#i’m a little hesitant on posting this but

[starmocha]

want me, need me, love me [Sylus/Reader ★ 1510 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] When you had made that plan to sell Sylus, you didn’t realize it would come back to (literally) bite you. A/N: This…was originally just a scenario, but I guess it turned into a ficlet in spite of my self-ban that I wasn’t going to write Sylus fics right now until I finish Bride of the Dragon King. In my defense, it’s only appropriate to post this during the cat banner and I always lie to myself <333 Snuck in some light breeding kink because @yourlocalcatscammer got into my brain and I fear I have already exposed myself enough with my last few fics so why bother hiding this anymore 🥹

It was pretend. Just a little ploy.

You knew it.

Sylus did too.

So how did it end up with you trapped underneath him on a couch, his face buried in the crook of your neck, his voice so hoarse and needy? He wouldn’t stop rubbing his cheek against you, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply.

“Sy-Sylus, what’s gotten into you?” You tried to push him off, but he was too heavy, too unwilling, too…gone. Was it because of the special gene product? It couldn’t have possibly rewired his whole demeanor, could it? You vaguely recalled him attempting to snatch a parrot earlier when, for a brief moment, the feline instinct in him was triggered. You continued to struggle. “Snap out of it!”

“Miss…you really are heartless,” he rasped, nibbling on your earlobe, “Letting another woman have me so casually?”

You flustered, confused. “What are you talking about?” You looked up at him wide-eyed, startled by the darkened gaze that peered down at you. You swallowed slowly, your words careful and measured, as if you were soothing an agitated wild animal, “Sylus…it wasn’t personal…”

He narrowed his eyes. “I know,” he said, his tone terse. His kissed along your shoulder, leaving little love bites along the way. You squirmed, feeling your body heating up under his feverish ministrations. He sighed and grunted softly, his touches growing bolder.

“Say I’m yours,” he mumbled into your neck, desperation laced his deep voice. He nuzzled his cheek against you over and over again, behaving just like a frustrated cat. The warmth of his breath ghosted over your skin, making you shivered as he husked, “Let me be yours.”

Want me.

“Sy-Sylus, snap out of it! What are you—ah…” Your words died at your lips, a gasp escaped. He had pushed your shirt up, your bra unhooked and tossed to the side without a care. Without hesitation, the Onychinus leader took your sweet little nipple into his warm mouth, his tongue swirling leisurely around the sensitive nub, making you arched up, gasping and crying from the sudden electrifying stimulation.

He grinded languidly against you, and as he suckled greedily, he murmured, “…touch me…my…my ears…”

Your mind was hazy, teetering between rationality and the growing lust that was clouding your judgement. You looked down at the head of silvery-white hair against you and the pair of cat ears twitching restlessly atop Sylus’ head. Nimbly, your fingers stroked the sensitive feline ear, feeling the soft tufts of fur between your fingers. He hummed happily, and he sucked harder.

“Ah—!”

His hands reached down to grab your hips, keeping you grounded against the couch. He brushed against you, and you trembled, feeling his bulge over your skirt.

“Sy-Sylus…”

He looked up, the normally haughty expression that graced the feared and notorious Onychinus leader’s face was gone. Right now, he wore a different expression, one that only you were allowed to see. He looked at you lust-filled and wanting, his lips slightly parted, soft sighs escaping. His eyes softened a little, enough for you to notice.

Need me.

You felt a burning ache inside you, one that he had started, and one that you knew only he could quell. Those soft crimson eyes of his beckoned you closer, silently urging you to let go, to submit to the growing heat between the two of you.

Hesitantly, you leaned up, taking his lips for yourself, long and slow. Sylus stilled, surprised, seemingly taking his time to register the moment. When he realized you were answering his silent pleas, he smiled against your lips. His ears flattened back as he kissed you deeper, his hands fumbled with both your clothes.

Your panties slipped off, his pants unzipped, and his hardened member freed from its confines. He nudged his hip forward, the head of his cock pressed against your slick folds. You gasped and gripped his jacket.

“…Take me…” he mumbled lazily, his mouth finding your nipple again. Your other breast was massaged, caressed and shamelessly groped, your sweet, irresistible moans lured out, answered by his own deep, sultry groans as he suckled hungrily.

You whimpered helplessly, giving up on your attempt to resist him. You were aching so much right now, wanting and needing him in a way you had never felt before. Your fingers found their way into his hair, getting lost in the silky strands. “…Y-yes…”

He moved forward and you arched up, crying out. More and more of him eased in, his deep groans were intoxicating, your own desires igniting as he filled you, your walls stretching wonderfully around the massive intrusion. You buried your face into his neck when he bottomed out, gasping into his shoulder as his arm wrapped around you securely. He guided you away from his shoulder and you lay beneath him nearly sobbing in frustration. He looked down at you, flushed cheeks and vulnerable. Again, his warm breath fanned against your mouth as he asked softly, “…Can I…”

“Yes!” You interrupted, your moans tumbling out as he started to move, slowly at first before he built a faster rhythm. Again, you vaguely wondered if he was still lost, still submissive to his feline instincts, because the way he was moving was much more animalistic than you would have expected. It was hurried, graceless, feral, but it was filling you just the way you wanted, the way you needed right now.

Every delicious stroke of his length had you mumbling deliriously, lost in this moment of heavenly pleasure. “Mm…ah…ah…Sy…Sylus…”

His lips found yours again, taking your moans selfishly. He groaned as you clenched around him. “…fuck…Miss…”

You cried out as he spread you more, pushing your legs back, taking you even deeper. “Oh god, oh god…!”

“Mm…breed you…need to breed you…make you mine…m…yours…yours…” He was moving more erratic, his words so frenzied and incoherent, you weren’t sure if he was even registering what he was saying. He was driven purely by a natural need, an instinct so feral, he seemed more animal than man in this moment.

You felt infected by him, by his words, your own traitorous body craving what he was saying. “Ah…yes…yes…ah…breed me…breed me, Sylus…” You weren’t thinking clearly anymore. There wasn’t a single rational thought left in your little head. The only thing you could focus on was his powerful thrusts, reaching you deep where you needed.

“O-oh, Sylus…”

So close. So close, you could feel yourself peaking. Just a little more, almost, almost—

“Mm…Miss…inside…?”

“Yes!” You cried out, your pitch higher than normal, so desperate and needy. He thrusted forward, pushing in even deeper with a heavy groan. His eyes met yours for a moment before you closed yours, screaming out your climax as he coated your walls with his seeds, filling you fuller than you thought was possible.

Distantly, you could hear Sylus mumbling in between his moans.

Love me.

“…mine…yours…yours…”

You panted softly, hearing his own breathing matching your own. You moaned, whimpering as he pulled out, feeling his seed dripping out of your cunt. Slowly, you opened your eyes, seeing Sylus’ flushed face close to yours. He still appeared to be under his feline influence, looking dazed and lost.

Your eyes traveled all over, taking in his satiated expression, seeing the sweats on his glistened skin.

“Ah…oh, I have my lipstick on you.” You touched his lips, seeing red lipstick smeared across. You rubbed your thumb against his mouth, trying to wipe it clean. He stopped you.

He smiled, almost delirious with joy. “Good,” Sylus husked, “You should cover me all over. Mark me as yours.”

Before you could respond, his face was buried in your chest again, his arms tightening around your waist. He nuzzled against you, behaving much more docile now. You rubbed the back of his head for a bit, the soothing act calming him even more. It didn’t take long before you realized he had fallen asleep on top of you. His breathing had slowed, the rhythm steady. He seemed much more relaxed than he was earlier.

You scratched the feline ear atop his head, smiling softly when it twitched in response to your light touch. Sylus instinctively hummed softly in his sleep, pleased.

When he would wake up later, you wondered would he even have remembered what had happened? Would he remember how he had behaved, the words he had spoken? Would he deny it? Make excuses?

You smiled.

You didn’t particularly care. You saw the real him. He would always lower his guard around you, always be transparent about how he felt about you, and now tonight, you realized it wasn’t just that he desired you, but he wanted you to reciprocate as well. Wanted you to be possessive of him, to want and need him in the same way that he felt for you.

To be equally possessive of one another, a mutual obsession with one another.

You almost laughed aloud. Why, what an exquisite idea, you thought to yourself.

You kissed your fingers before pressing them along Sylus’ cheek. He purred softly.

How cute.

[oneluckydumbass]

Sabotage || chapter one

pairing: Charles x reader x Max (based on votes, but I might post another poll to confirm after a few chapters)

summary: You have a new boyfriend, and after it becomes clear attending race weekends isn’t so important to you anymore, your best friend and your “it’s complicated” person join forces to sabotage your relationship.

…

Rolling your eyes, you pick up a pillow and try to playfully hit your friend with it, but your effort is futile, because he catches it with ease, then tosses it on the floor next to the bed. He’s shamelessly laughing at you, but then he turns on his stomach and buries his face into the space between your shoulder and his pillow.

You’ve been stuck together like glue for over a decade, spending an unhealthy amount of time together, so the fact you’re lying in bed next to each other doesn’t mean much to either of you. He’s your best friend and nothing more, no matter what the press and fans say.

Just when you think he drifted back to sleep, a muffled voice cuts through the silence of the room. “Did you say something?” you ask with a laugh as you tussle his already messy hair.

A groan follows your words, and he lifts his head a little. “I said, I’m starving,” he repeats, this time letting you hear him loud and clear.

A small smile creeps on your lips as you watch him, taking a good look at those green eyes that are blinking drowsily at you. He’s hungover, so this means he needs his usual breakfast to get through the morning, and you’re more than happy to make it for him as usual. When the roles are reversed and it’s you who needs it, he does the same for you, so you don’t hesitate to push the blanket to the side and slip out of bed.

Well, you try to get out of bed, because Charles quickly wraps an arm around you to keep you in place. He digs his thumb into the plush flesh of your hips as his hand moves a little lower on your body. The look he gives you makes it clear he’s not gonna let you get away from him anytime soon despite the hunger that makes his stomach growl.

As soon as you cover yourself again with the blanket, he lets his head fall back on the pillow, being close enough to place a kiss on your shoulder before letting out a soft sigh of relief. Winning his home grand prix must have been one hell of a high, coming down from that and trying to sober up after the party the night before must be quite a challenge for today.

His breathing soon changes, it becomes slower, more even, and you think it might be time to go back to sleep yourself to recharge your batteries enough to function today. Just when you reach the edge of sleep, though, you hear your friend mutter something again, and he only repeats it a little louder when you let out a questioning hum.

“I’m gonna ask Arthur to bring us breakfast. He has nothing better to do today and he has a key,” he tells you the plan, earning a disapproving sigh from you. “What? He’s my little brother, this is the least he can do.”

There’s an edge to his rough, raspy voice that gives the statement the kind of finality you just can’t fight against. So you nod and close your eyes again, focusing on the sounds of him moving to get his phone and type a message to his brother. Once he’s done, he lies on his back and lets out a long sigh.

“I asked him to go to that little bistro where we eat and told him to ask for our usual, if that’s okay,” he says.

You open your eyes a little to look at him, a smile already playing on your lips as you turn on your side. “That’s quite a detour for him,” you note.

Charles lets out a huff. “I told him to bring himself something too so we can eat together,” he tells you, then he turns to you with that usual, boyish smile of his. “I transferred more than enough money, so yeah, he gets a little extra for the delivery and a hefty tip.”

After a nod, you prop on your elbow and watch him without saying a word. He hums to urge you to speak up, but before you could talk, your phone on the nightstand starts to ring. When you look at the screen, you can’t fight back the wide grin that wants to creep on your face, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by your friend.

“I need to take this,” you tell him, sort of as an apology for crawling out of bed to leave the room.

To be honest, you didn’t expect him to call. The whole time you thought the buzzing environment of the paddock made him say those things, but here you are, seeing his name flash on the screen so soon after race day. Shane is handsome, and nice, and he’s as far from the world of motorsports as possible.

A breath of fresh air, really.

He’s a fashion photographer, and he only attended the grand prix because he had to take some photos of Lewis and George, so the team thought it would be nice to give him a pass for the weekend. There he bumped into you, started a conversation, sat down for lunch with you, then asked for your number before going home. And now he wants a date, much to your surprise.

When he suggests meeting in New Zealand, you begin to talk about his new gig there, and you get so lost in the conversation that you only notice Arthur when he puts the boxes next to you in the kitchen with a wide grin on his face. It doesn’t seem to bother him that you’re on the phone with someone, because he kisses you on the cheek, then waits for you to tell him where his brother can be found.

Several minutes later you hear Charles ask “what” in the other room, which is followed by the sound of someone running towards you. You watch as he skids into the kitchen, then he takes the phone from your hand and holds up a finger to stop you from talking. Arthur massages the bridge of his nose in the background, while you’re trying to process what just happened.

“Are you really ditching her for some model? Come on, dude, I thought we—” Suddenly he stops talking and his eyes widen from surprise. “Oh, who am I speaking to?”

You watch as he tries to explain himself, looking embarrassed as he should be, and you occasionally glance over at Arthur who can barely hold back his emotions. Once your friend hands you the phone with a guilty expression on his face, you can’t help but feel sorry for him, especially after his little brother starts to point a finger at him as he erupts in laughter.

After saying goodbye to Shane, you end the call and watch as Charles gives his brother a disapproving look before playfully slapping his arm. “That’s not funny, I thought she was talking to Max again,” he says.

Here you go again. “Even if I was talking to him, it would be none of your business,” you warn him with an angry look in your eyes.

You’ve been over this so many times during your entire friendship, but he still feels like he has to protect you from him, as if Max is some vicious predator that wants to eat you alive. The two of you occasionally try to make this work between you, but more often than not it remains a friends with benefits setup. It seems like neither of you is ready to be in a committed relationship.

Your brother once hinted at the Dutchman’s annoyance whenever it came to your close friendship with his rival. For some reason he sees Charles as a threat, not only on the track, but in your relationship too. And given his friendship with your brother, you get these comments about your friend from two people, which makes it even more annoying.

And now you have to deal with the Monegasque’s overprotective personality too, which tells you this breakfast won’t be accompanied by carefree conversations between the three of you. You know you have to tell him that there is someone new in your life, and can only hope he will be a little relieved that it’s not who he thought it was.

While Arthur sits on a barstool next to the kitchen island, you and Charles bring some plates and silverware for the food, and you three dig in without hesitation. Even though your focus is on Arthur who’s talking about the party the night before, you can still feel your best friend’s eyes on you, burning a hole into your skull as he watches you.

“So who’s the guy?” he suddenly asks. You turn to him with a raised eyebrow. “You never told me you’re seeing someone.”

Letting out a sigh, you put down the fork and lean back a little. “I only met him on Saturday. This was the first time he called, there’s nothing to tell yet,” you reply, giving him a look that says enough of the questions.

“Yet? You mean you’ll meet him?” he wonders, completely ignoring your silent request.

“And what if I will?”

Out of the corner of your eye you can see the way Arthur winces and slips off the chair with his orange juice in hand, then moves to the living room to give you some space to talk. You and Charles only stare at each other for a while, both of you waiting for the other to say something, but deep down you know it’s him who has some explaining to do.

Since he doesn’t speak up, you return your attention to your breakfast and take a bite with your eyes still fixed on your friend. In the end, he lets out a sigh and reaches out to put a hand on your wrist. “Look, I’m just worried, okay? You barely know the guy,” he tells you.

Rolling your eyes at him, you end up shaking your head. “Meeting him will help me get to know him. In case you’ve forgotten, this is how dating works.” He licks his lips, a nervous expression visible on his face as he picks at his own food with the fork. You have no idea what could possibly be wrong with him, but you feel like telling him the facts and nothing more could be helpful. “We’ll have a few days for that next weekend in New Zealand.”

This catches his attention, because he looks back up at you. “But that’s the next race weekend,” he says, sounding surprised that you dared to plan something for the same time. When you give him a questioning look, he takes a deep breath. “You’ve never missed a race, I just… I don’t know. It would be weird to be there without you,” he replies.

“You can’t expect me to put my life on hold because you want me to be there at every race weekend. I gave up enough already, I’m not gonna waste more chances. I like this guy.”

“Does he have a name?”

Your eyes narrow because you know exactly what this is about. “You want to do some research,” you state with an annoyed sigh.

Charles shrugs, and you can’t help but roll your eyes before giving him the guy’s name, although he doesn’t seem to recognize it, so you explain what he does for a living. Those mesmerizing green eyes of his are mirroring the concentration he needs to remember every detail, and you can’t help but wonder why he finds this so interesting.

After all, you never say a word about his girlfriends, you never pry for more information, you just go with the flow and let him have his fun. It’s usually Max who’s more interested in who you’re dating, but even he restrains himself before he would interfere. At least the two of you have history, there’s a logical explanation for his reaction.

But this? Now, this you can’t put a finger on.

“Guys, we have a problem,” you hear Arthur’s voice before he appears in the kitchen, his phone held up. You exchange a confused look with Charles, then your eyes move to his little brother. “Mom wants me to have dinner with her.”

“Why’s that a problem?” Charles asks.

After a gulp, Arthur clears his throat and sits back on the barstool he previously occupied. “Um, well, she might have found out about my girlfriend, and now she wants to meet her,” he replies with an awkward smile.

His brother flashes a wide grin at him. “Why didn’t you tell me about her? What is she like? And what’s her name? Where did you even meet her?”

Shaking your head with a laugh, you reach out to take his hand and squeeze it gently. “I guess this is exactly why he didn’t say a word. No one needs the Spanish Inquisition.” When Charles opens his mouth to protest, you give him a warning look. “This is exactly what you did with me just a few minutes ago. Give him the chance to decide when he’s ready to talk about her.”

Arthur flashes a thankful smile at you, then takes a deep breath and begins to tell you about the girl. He really likes her, and this big, stupid smile on his face tells you that he really just wanted to protect her from this madness. When you look over at Charles, you notice how his expression softened, and in the end he assures his brother that he will talk to their mother and ask her to be patient.

Maybe there’s still hope for him after all.

[scary-grace]

if my heart was a house - a shigaraki x f!reader fic

It's been nineteen years since Tomura was sentenced to death, and you've built a life in the space he left behind, braced each day for the worst. You're prepared for everything - the questions your daughter asks, the memories that sting a little more in the winter, the specter of the news you've been afraid of for years. But of all the things life's thrown your way, it's the one you haven't dared to hope for might be the one thing you can't handle. (cross-posted to Ao3) written for @pixelcafe-network's Challenge Friday event! Banner/divider by @cafekitsune

You know even before you open your eyes that it’s snowed overnight. The world always sounds too quiet afterwards, and you used to have so many words to describe it – almost comforting, almost eerie, almost serene. But that was when you were young. Now you’d replace all those words with a different one: Empty. You used to love the winter, the first snowfall of the year, and you still do. But it always reminds you of him. And he’s gone.

He’s been gone for years now. The length of time you spent with him has been swallowed six times over by the time you’ve spent alone, and you’d like to think that even in the beginning, you wore your sadness well. Now, nineteen years in, it barely shows. You keep it buried through spring, summer, autumn – until the first frost, the first freezing rain, the first icicles on the eaves and the first drifts of snow on the ground, when it crawls free of the grave and sprawls on top of you at night. You met Tomura in the winter. Fell in love with him by spring. You got two more winters with him after that, and then he was gone, and nothing can fill the space he left behind.

But even if one chamber of your heart is frozen open for good, the rest is still alive. And there’s room for a different kind of love, a way for you to translate your grief rather than buckle beneath its weight. There’s a knock at the door to your room, and your daughter’s voice slips cautiously in. “Mom? Are you awake?”

“I’m awake,” you say, and you blink away the tears. “Come in.”

Even at eighteen, Chihiro still hesitates before she steps across the threshold, but once she’s made the choice, she throws herself onto the bed with abandon. “We got half a meter. That’s even more than the forecast said.”

“And we’ve still got power. Lucky us.” You wipe your eyes, just in case, and turn to face her. “Good morning, kiddo.”

“How long do I have to be kiddo? I’m almost done with high school.”

“Okay, you’re right,” you compromise, even as your throat tightens. She’s never met her father, never will, but the tone in her voice when she’s putting her foot down reminds you painfully of him. “What should I call you instead?”

“My name. You’re the one who picked it out.” Chihiro’s dressed in her pajamas with a hoodie thrown over them, and you can see her phone lighting up through the front pocket. “Don’t you like it anymore?”

“I love it,” you say, “Chihiro. Did you sleep okay?”

She nods. There’s something on her mind. You can tell by the way her brow furrows, and the way her mouth thins tells you that she’s planning to keep it quiet. Or that she’ll try. Chihiro has a hard time keeping her feelings inside. She and Tomura have that in common, but while you always gave Tomura space to figure out how to say what he needed to, you always let Chihiro know you’re aware, and listening. “What’s going on up there, Chihiro, my daughter who’s almost done with high school?”

She rolls her eyes, but a smile is pulling up the corner of her mouth. Her smile’s always been a little lopsided, but so has yours. “There’s only one morning of the year you ever sleep in,” she says. “The first time it snows. And then you’re different all day – not mad or depressed or anything. Just different. I was wondering why.”

“I’m sorry,” you say at once. “I’m not upset with you. It’s not anything you did. You could never do anything that would –”

“I know, Mom.” Chihiro’s crimson eyes are intent on your face. “It’s one day. You get to be weird if you need to. I just wanted to know – is it because of him? My dad?”

When she was little, you’d lie, and tell her the snow is so pretty that you can’t help but get emotional about it. There was a while where she didn’t ask. But she’s old enough now that you can admit it. You think. “Yeah,” you say. Your voice is steady. You’re proud of that. “This is around the time of year when I first met him. It brings back memories.”

“Good ones?” Chihiro settles into the pillows the way she used to when she wanted a bedtime story. “Tell me.”

You hesitate. “Not the gross stuff,” Chihiro clarifies. “I don’t want to know about that. Kaori’s mom tells her all about that stuff. And she bought her a vibrator for her birthday.”

“Huh,” you say after a second. “That’s sex-positive of her.”

“You’re being nice. What do you really think?”

You think she reminds you of Tomura. He never let you duck behind the niceties; he always wanted to know your real reaction. “I think it’s weird. Especially if Kaori didn’t ask.”

“She definitely didn’t. She’s really shy.” Chihiro grimaces. “I’m glad you’re not weird like that.”

Not weird is a good thing. Maybe. “You know I’m here if you need to talk about –”

“No, Mom. Gross.” Chihiro buries her face in the pillow. “Tell me about my dad.”

“Okay,” you say. “Your dad. He, um – there was something about him. I never met someone like him before, and I haven’t since. He told the truth about stuff, even if it wasn’t pretty, and he said what he thought even if it was a bad time. One time we went on a double date with one of his friends and their new boyfriend, and the first question out of your dad’s mouth was whether the boyfriend had drawn his facial hair on.”

Chihiro wheezes. “That’s awful,” she says, but she’s laughing – just like you were. “Had he, though?”

“We never got an answer,” you say, and Chihiro laughs harder. “Your dad could be a jackass sometimes, even to people he liked, but when it really mattered, he’d –”

Kill for them. You swallow the words. “He was there for people when they needed him,” you say instead. “He was always there for me. Even if he didn’t know the right thing to say, I could count on him to listen. And he never gave me a hard time for standing up for myself. Not even when we argued about things.”

You were sort of a pushover early on. You were worried that saying no would make you difficult, and being difficult would make him want to leave. It wasn’t how you were most of the time, or how you’d been before you and Tomura got together, and he wasn’t scared to call you out. You remember the grin on his face the first time you really put your foot down about something, set a boundary and held it. I knew you were in there somewhere, he said. This is how I like you.

That was something you loved about being with Tomura: You were good for each other. You made each other better. “It sounds like you were happy,” Chihiro ventures, and you nod. “Do you think you’d have gotten married sometime? Did you guys want kids?”

Married, maybe. Your friends and his all used to joke that the two of you were the old married couple of the group, but while you talked about the future, you almost never talked about marriage to go with it. Not until it was almost the end, and you never made it to the discussion, any discussion, about having kids. Your pregnancy was catastrophic because of what happened before it, but even if it hadn’t been, it would have raised a lot of questions that neither you nor Tomura knew how to answer. “We were really young,” you say. “I was only twenty-two. We hadn’t had that talk yet. But I think we’d have talked about it if –”

“Yeah.” Chihiro’s voice is muffled by the pillows. “Did he know about me? Before he died?”

Your stomach clenches in a tight, guilty cramp, one that’s been getting steadily worse over the years. “I didn’t find out until after he was gone.”

“Oh.” Chihiro’s voice goes small and wavering. “Do you think – um – do you think he would have liked me?”

There’s no way to know. That means what you say next isn’t technically a lie. “He would have loved you,” you say. Her shoulders shake, and you rest your hand on her back to settle her, the same as you’ve done since she was a baby. “Just like I do.”

Chihiro turns her head to look at you, her eyes glassy with tears. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. Everything’s okay.” You rub her back in slow circles. “Ask about him whenever you want. I’ll always try to answer.”

“Do you miss him?”

Other than your daughter’s ragged breathing and your own steady, shallow sips of air, there’s no sound in the world. When you open up the blinds, you’ll see an empty snowfield, unmarked by human footprints for a little while longer. Footprints in the snow will be filled in by the next storm or melted away in the thaw, but the marks Tomura left on you are indelible. There will never be room for someone else where he stood, because he’s still standing there, somewhere you can’t reach.

Sometimes you’ve thought, selfishly, that it would be easier if he really was dead, just so you wouldn’t have to cope with knowing that he’s still out there, knowing exactly where he is with no way to get to him. You’ve let Chihiro think he’s dead. You tell yourself it’s easier for her this way. It’s better that she doesn’t know what really happened to Tomura. The fact that you know is bad enough.

“Mom?” Chihiro asks, and you realize you never answered her question. “Do you still miss my dad?”

You still love him. That’s the same thing. “I do,” you say. “Every day.”

Chihiro cries herself out, and then it’s time to get moving. Her school has a late start, not a snow day, and you still have to go to work. You make a special breakfast anyway, play the music you and she used to dance to when she was little, and soon your daughter’s smiling again. Chihiro doesn’t have trouble being happy, not like you and Tomura both did. Still do, probably. Your depression was just that, but the sheer weight of Tomura’s past regularly threatened to crush him, and you doubt the nineteen years he’s already spent in prison have done anything to improve things.

But Chihiro knows how to be happy, and you know, because she tells you when she’s not. You’re not naive enough to think your teenager tells you everything, but she knows she can talk to you. And she does talk to you, getting steadily back to herself as you eat breakfast and clean up and get ready, her for school, you for work. Then the two of you crunch your way to the car and start digging it out of the snow. The snowplows must have been out last night and early this morning, because the road doesn’t have much in the way of accumulation. You’ll have to be careful of ice.

You’re both a little sweaty under your winter coats when you get in the car at last. “I’m already gross,” Chihiro complains. “Why can’t we get a garage or something?”

“Where would we put it?”

“In your room,” Chihiro says. You snort. “Or in mine. Since I’m going to uni soon.”

Your heart sinks whenever she says that, but you’ll be damned before you let it show. “You’ll still need somewhere to stay when you come back,” you say. “Maybe we don’t really need a kitchen.”

Chihiro rolls her eyes. “What? You’re not planning to turn my room into, like, a sewing room or something once I go to school?”

"No," you say. "My parents did that when I went away. I hated it."

Looking back, you took it way too personally. They weren’t saying they were done with you, or that the place you’d grown up wasn’t home anymore. You were just hurting, and looking desperately for a reason why. Coming back on school break to find your room cleaned out was a good one. “I’m not going to do that,” you say to Chihiro.“Even when you live somewhere else, you’ll always have a place with me.”

Chihiro glances sideways at you. “Kaori’s mom is freaking about her moving away.”

“Kaori’s mom freaks out a lot,” you say. You and she should have bonded, because you’re the only single moms in this small town, but Kaori’s mom makes you nervous. “How does Kaori feel about it?”

“Her mom will be fine. She’s not worried.” Chihiro pauses for a long moment. “I am, though.”

Your grip on the steering wheel goes white-knuckled. “About Kaori’s mom?”

“About you,” Chihiro says. You reach a stop sign, come to a full stop, and turn to look at her. There’s a stubborn set to her jaw that’s all too familiar. “Kaori’s mom is crazy. But Kaori’s mom has a life. She goes out some nights and her friends come to visit and she has parties and hobbies —“

“I have hobbies,” you protest.

“Yeah. Your hobby means you hang out in the house all day,” Chihiro says. “You can't carry your sewing machine and all your fabric to a craft party. Maybe if you learned to knit or something —“

“I’m not going to knit.”

“Something,” Chihiro says firmly. “Something that means you’re not alone all the time. I’m excited to go to uni. I’m worried about what’s going to happen to you when I leave.”

You’ve fucked up, big-time. “Chihiro, I understand why you —“ No, you don’t. All you understand is that you were stupid to think your damage didn’t show, awful for making Chihiro think she has any responsibility for your mess of an internal life at all. “It’s not your job to make sure I’m okay. I can take care of myself.”

“It’s not about taking care of yourself,” Chihiro fires back. “It’s about being happy. You want me to be happy, right?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “I love you.”

“I love you, Mom.” Chihiro says it bluntly, unashamedly. “So I want you to be happy, too.”

You don’t know what to say. It’s quiet, and it keeps being quiet, until a car pulls up behind you and honks its horn. You refocus on driving in a hurry. With you distracted, Chihiro pushes the point. “You barely even talk to people, Mom. Kaori’s mom thinks you hate her because you never say yes when she asks to hang out.”

“I don’t hate her,” you say. Chihiro’s skeptical look skewers you to the seat. “Look, she’s just not — it’s complicated.”

“No it’s not,” Chihiro says. “Next time she asks to hang out, say yes.”

No. “What if I sign up for an art class at the community center instead?”

“Do that, too,” Chihiro says. You grimace. “You want me to be happy. I’ll be happy if I know you’re talking to other people and doing stuff that’s not in the house. I don’t want to come back on a school break and find out you’ve only been talking to the trees or something.”

She pauses. “I guess you can talk to them a little. As long as you don’t start thinking they talk back.”

“Got it.”

You drop Chihiro off at school less than a minute before the bell rings, but she still makes you get out of the car and hug her. She hugs really tight. She got that from you. Tomura used to complain jokingly that you were a boa constrictor in a girlfriend suit. You kiss her forehead and send her on her way, then get back in the car and drive to work, feeling even worse than you did when you opened your eyes to a snowy silence this morning.

Chihiro’s wrong about Kaori’s mom. It is complicated — not because you hate her, but because she’s the nosiest person in town, and because you’ve got a lot to hide. You didn’t mean to have a lot to hide. It was just something that happened, and as the years since Tomura’s conviction have unfolded, you’ve gotten steadily more attached to the lie. It’s not about you. It’s about Chihiro, who shouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that her father’s a convicted murderer awaiting execution in supermax prison, who shouldn’t have to deal with people looking at her differently. It’s about Chihiro. It’s not about you.

Or so you tell yourself. But there’s a reason you fled from Tokyo in the aftermath of Tomura’s sentencing, why you cut off contact with his friends and yours, why you dyed your hair and changed your phone number and nuked your social media along with every email address you ever had. People hated Tomura. And because you were with him, they hated you, too. It didn’t matter that you knew nothing. That the murders he was accused of committing took place before you met him. Even if you’d dumped him the second he was arrested, you’d have been called stupid for not seeing it all along. You couldn’t hack it. You were headed for a breakdown at high speed. But you would have stayed, if Tomura hadn’t told you to go.

The last time you spoke to him was after his sentencing, as they were taking him away. You seized his hands, already cuffed, his wrists chafed raw, and for a split second, he held on so tightly that one of your fingers broke. Then he looked up, hopeless fury in his eyes. Get out of here. Don’t come back. I don’t want you to watch.

You thought he meant he didn’t want you to watch him being shoved into an armored truck for transport, but when your letters came back unopened, when he refused to let you visit or even call him, you realized the truth. He wanted you gone, just as completely as he was gone from you. That moment in the courtroom was the last one you’d ever have with him. And that was what tripped the breakdown at last. You were throwing up too much to overdose and you were too chicken to try another way, so you went to the doctor to figure it out so you could kill yourself with your chosen method. You just wanted anti-nausea pills. The doctor did bloodwork, made you give a urine sample, and gave you a diagnosis.

“Hyperemesis gravidarum,” he said, and you looked at him blankly. “You’re pregnant.”

He expected you to get an abortion. Everybody and their mother probably expected you to get an abortion. If Tomura had been there, if your accidental pregnancy had been something the two of you were dealing with together, it probably wouldn’t have even been a question. And for any other pregnancy, it would have been the only viable option in your mind. But when you thought about it, about this pregnancy, your mind rejected the idea so violently that you threw up again. You couldn’t get rid of this baby. You needed it. Looking back, you know your reasons were terrible. You had a kid so you wouldn’t be alone. So you’d keep some memory of Tomura close to you always. So you’d have a reason to keep getting up in the morning, a reason to eat and sleep and exercise, a reason to find a new job in your new town and work hard at it. So someone would need you. So you could do something with your agony at losing Tomura, grab it with both hands and twist it back into love. Deciding to have the baby was the most selfish thing you’ve ever done. And raising Chihiro, loving her, is the most important thing you’ll ever do.

She’s right about you. You do live for her. And if that means signing up for a pottery class at the community center and agreeing to grab tea with Kaori’s crazy mom so she won’t worry, that’s what you’ll do.

You work in the combined billing/records/HR department at your town’s medical clinic, with occasional ventures to the front desk when a receptionist is out sick. You spend a lot of time staring at the computer, a lot of time on the phone, and very little time talking to your coworkers — but you’ve been here for seventeen years, longer than almost anyone else. You were working here before some of your coworkers were out of primary school.

Dr. Kawada is your age, though. He greets you as you walk in. “Glad you made it. Anybody who lives past the town limits is staying home.”

“They should. The roads are terrible even with the plows out.” You hang up your coat, then sit down and power up your computer. “How many patients do you think we’ll get?”

“We have a ton of cancelations already,” Keiko, the nurse-practitioner, reports. She would be the one to make it in — Kawada would crawl here with his teeth if he had to, and she’s his wife, so of course she tagged along. “And there was a call for you, bright and early.”

“For billing? Somebody must have been losing sleep.”

“Not for billing. For you,” Keiko admonishes. “I forwarded it to your phone. It seemed kind of urgent.”

You log into your computer, then decide to check the message while you’re waiting for it to perk up. The voice on the other end of the line is completely unfamiliar. “Hi there. My name is Midoriya Izuku, and I’m a lawyer with the —" There’s a really loud sound on the other end of the line, completely obliterating whatever he was about to tell you about the organization he’s part of. “Due to confidentiality I can’t share much over the phone, but it’s really important that I get in touch with you! Please call me back to arrange a meeting —“

You hang up and delete the message. You don’t like lawyers, and this guy sounds like he has prosecutor written all over him. Or else he’s a reporter lying to you about his credentials to trick you into giving him a quote. The twenty-year anniversary of Tomura’s conviction is coming up, and there were articles at the ten-year mark, too. You’re more concerned about how this Midoriya Izuku got your number in the first place. You’re not easy to find. You made yourself tough to find on purpose.

It’s a quiet day at the office. Almost all the appointments are canceled, which means that the walk-ins get seen almost immediately, and you have time to start on your end-of-the-year reports. And time to talk, because Keiko and Dr. Kawada are in talkative moods, and you’re the best and only target. “How’s Chihiro?” Keiko asks. “Has she picked a school?”

“Not yet. Still weighing her options,” you say. And then, because you’re tired: “She’s worried about what will happen to me once she leaves.”

“Tell her not to worry. We’ll take care of you!” Dr. Kawada says with a grin. “What’s she worried about, anyway? You seem fine.”

“I am fine. But I’m signing up for an art class so she’ll stop worrying that I’m going to wither away alone,” you say. Dr. Kawada snorts. “How I’m doing isn’t her responsibility. She didn’t ask to be born and I didn’t have her so she could take care of me.”

“Nobody thinks that,” Keiko says. She gives you a weird look, but then she changes the subject. “Hey, but even once she moves out, you don’t have to be alone! Me and Shogo know lots of people we want to set you up with!”

You’re pretty sure your face goes dead white. “What?”

“I mean, I know you haven’t been seeing anyone since you moved here —"

“Because it’s not about me anymore. It’s about Chihiro.”

“Yeah, but if it’s about Chihiro, shouldn’t you want her not to worry?” Kawada’s not helping. You feel like you might be sick. “I moved here right around when you did and I’ve never seen you date anybody. Things must have gone down real bad with your ex —"

“Shogo!” Keiko swats him, mortified, then looks at you. “Sorry. He should know better.”

“Chihiro’s dad isn’t my ex,” you say. “He’s — gone.”

It’s the same trick you’ve been pulling on Chihiro since she was old enough to ask, and it works on adults, too. Kawada backs off, chagrined. “Sorry,” he says. There’s an awkward silence. “I’ve known you for seventeen years. How did I miss that?”

“I don’t like to talk about it.” You don’t even like thinking about Tomura, but every winter, it’s unavoidable. Every winter the sadness curls up around you, and although time is supposed to heal things, it’s never gotten any easier to throw off come spring. “I wouldn’t wish it on anybody.”

“Yeah,” Keiko agrees. Her eyes are sad. “Still. Tell Chihiro not to worry. We’ll keep an eye on you.”

You force a smile, force your eyes to brighten. “Thank you.”

It’s the clinic’s slowest day in a while, and you spend a lot of it screwing around on the computer. You sign up for an art class, one that meets the same night as Chihiro’s choir practice, so you can pick her up on the way home. You google therapists, too — maybe she’ll feel better if she knows you have one. And maybe you need one. Chihiro’s your daughter, the most important person in the world, the one you’d sacrifice everything to care for. Caring for her takes up most of your thoughts, distracts you from the pain of losing Tomura. Once Chihiro goes away for school, there won’t be anything left to keep your sadness at bay.

Tomura’s been on death row for nineteen years. They could execute him at any time, and you’d never know until his name was released by the government. During his trial, when you realized the death penalty was on the table, you looked up how it would happen. It still haunts you sometimes. You don’t want to think of Tomura with his neck broken, his eyes open and staring, dying with feet chained together and his hands bound behind his back. You want to remember him before it all went wrong. Back when you still believed he was the best thing that ever happened to you.

You met him at university, on a day when the campus was iced over. Your on-campus job started early, which meant you had to make your way to the library on paths that wouldn’t be de-iced for another hour. Tomura had an early class. He was headed the opposite way from you, and you were both so focused on not slipping and falling that you walked headlong into each other and fell on your asses anyway.

Your backpack slid from your shoulders, and the papers Tomura was carrying scattered across the path. Fuck, Tomura said, with feeling, and you laughed. What’s so funny? You fell down, too.

I know, but — An image popped into your head and set you off all over again. We look like we’re in a cartoon. Except without the stars and planets around our heads.

No stars and planets? I want a refund, Tomura said, and cracked a smile that opened up a split in his lower lip. Damn it —

Here. You retrieved your fallen backpack and a packet of tissues, then started gathering the papers Tomura had dropped. Sorry. It looked like you were in a hurry to go somewhere.

Comp-Sci building. I’m never signing up for a 7am again. Tomura’s phone buzzed, and he yanked it out of his pocket. And now it’s canceled. Motherfucker. I have to walk all the way back —

Maybe not all the way, you said, and he looked at you. I work at the library. It’s definitely open. You can hang out there until they get the paths salted.

Tomura looked at you, the tissue still pressed to his bloody lip. You didn’t know his name yet, didn’t know anything about him, but there was something you liked about his face. Something you liked about how he still got in on your joke, even though he was pissed about the fall. Something about the fact that he hadn’t gotten up yet, even though you’d gathered all his papers and were holding them out for him to take. I’ll level with you, he said after a second. I’ve never been to the library.

I get that a lot, you said, and you stood up. The plan was to hold out your hand to help him up, but you moved too fast, and your feet slid out from under you again. You managed to hang on to Tomura’s papers, but you went down hard. Fuck!

Tomura didn’t ask if you were okay. He just lifted the papers out of your hands, set them aside, and helped you sit up with hands that shook ever so slightly. I’m surprised you swore, he said, and you raised an eyebrow. You look like the type who says fiddlesticks instead.

Fuck off, you said, and he laughed. Making him laugh felt like an achievement, one you were proud to win. Looking back, that was when you knew you were in trouble. Maybe we should just crawl to the library.

It’s cold. Walking’s faster. Tomura got shakily to his knees, then his feet, and you copied him. I bet we can make it.

He stumbled twice on the way there, and you stumbled once, but neither of you fell again. You were leaning on each other to balance, more contact than you ever made with guys you weren’t dating, and nothing about it felt tense or awkward. It was just the only thing that made sense to do.

And that’s how everything was with Tomura. It just made sense, and you were so happy — and you think Tomura was, too. You fought sometimes, sure, but everyone does. Sometimes you didn’t know the right thing to say, but neither did he. He had a rough past, and you didn’t push him to talk about it. You just let him share what he wanted to, when he wanted to, and towards the end you had something close to the whole picture. It just didn’t have the murders in it.

No. You don’t want to think about this. You know what you believe about this, and going in a circle won’t help solve anything. You decide to redirect your feelings of frustration by looking up the lawyer who called you. Sure enough, he’s a prosecutor— or he was. Looking at the profile on his law firm’s website, you’re not sure what he does. He was in the news a year or so ago. Some case involving the yakuza.

The bell rings, and since Keiko’s on break and the receptionist got snowed in, you hurry up to the front to check the new patient in. It’s a good distraction. It helps to stay busy. When you’re busy, you don’t have to think about any of it — not Tomura, not the fact that he’s gone, not the fact that your daughter is leaving soon, too. And you don’t have to think about how it won’t be long before all your distractions run out.

[fanbasetwo]

Hii love! I couldn’t tell if your asks are open or not but I wanted to request reader having their first kiss with hao </3☹️

I love your writing so much btw! 🤍

NOTE : my asks are always open but you can still check it out on the pinned post where I do mention the ask status (if it's closed or not) this is my first hao ask btw + tysm for the compliment, I'm glad you enjoy my works 💕 MASTERLIST!!

You and Zhang Hao had been together since high school. When it was time to grow up and explore job opportunities, the two of you managed to make long-distance work, though you’d always joked about who’d be the one to kiss first once you reunited. When Hao finally moved back to your city after landing a job, things shifted—not in a bad way, but definitely in a new direction. You both decided to live together because, honestly, after five years of dating, it didn’t feel like a big leap.

Still, there were moments of awkwardness, like when you’d share the same bed at night. Sure, you’d cuddle, but neither of you ever took it further—not because you didn’t want to, but because you were both too shy to take the first step. Every touch felt hesitant, every glance carrying the weight of unspoken feelings.

“Hao?” you whispered, nudging him gently. He was sprawled on the bed after a long day at work, clearly exhausted. You both split rent evenly, and lately, you’d noticed how much effort he put into his job. He hummed softly, his body shifting as he turned on his side to face you. Without a word, he pulled you closer, his arm draped around your waist.

“Did you have a hard time at work?” you asked, your voice barely above a murmur as your sleepy eyes met his. He blinked at you, his gaze warm yet hesitant, before one hand reached up to cup your cheek.

“It’s not work,” he said quietly, shaking his head slightly.

“Then what is it?” you pressed, your curiosity piqued.

He hesitated for a moment, his thumb gently brushing against your skin. “It’s about us,” he admitted, his voice soft but tinged with uncertainty. “Are you... not attracted to me anymore?” The question caught you off guard, and you frowned, trying to piece together why he’d think that. “Of course I’m attracted to you,” you replied quickly, your tone laced with confusion. “Why would you feel otherwise?”

He let out a small sigh, looking almost embarrassed. “Because... you never, you know... take any hints. And you don’t really drop any hints either. About wanting... my kisses.”

His words trailed off, his cheeks dusted with a faint pink as he avoided your gaze. You stared at him for a moment before giggling softly, the nervousness between you both dissolving just a little. “Is it because I smell?” he asked suddenly, his tone half-serious, making you laugh even harder.

“Hao, no!” you managed to say through your giggles, shaking your head. “I’m just... nervous.”

“Then... can we do it now?” Hao's voice was barely a whisper, his nose brushing against yours as his hand rested gently on your cheek.

“Right now?” you echoed, your heart racing at his sudden question. His shy yet eager nod made your cheeks flush, and though you wanted to take the lead, the thought itself made you feel timid.

“Okay,” you murmured, giving a small nod of your own.

Neither of you moved at first, the shyness between you lingering in the space where your breaths mingled. It was as though a silent agreement passed between you: close your eyes and let it happen naturally. You squeezed your eyes shut, nerves buzzing through your entire body. And then, it happened—a soft, fleeting brush of his lips against yours. The touch sent a jolt down your spine, warm and electric, leaving you breathless even in its gentleness.

Both of you were lying on your sides, facing each other, and though the moment was slightly awkward, it was perfect in its own way. You tried to remember the romantic scenes you'd seen in dramas and movies, hesitantly capturing his upper lip between your own. Hao followed suit, tentatively suckling on your bottom lip, his movements clumsy yet tender. The kiss was inexperienced, both of you unsure of what to do next, but that only made it more endearing.

Your lips moved together in a rhythm that was anything but polished, yet the emotions behind it made your chest feel tight in the best way. With every soft press, every subtle tilt of your heads, you felt your connection deepen.

It wasn’t perfect or seamless, but it was real, filled with the quiet love and nervous excitement you’d built over the years.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, faces mere inches apart as you opened your eyes. Hao’s lips were slightly parted, his cheeks glowing with a faint blush as he grinned at you.

“That was...” he began, trailing off as he searched for the right word.

You giggled, touching your lips lightly. “Messy?”

“Perfect,” he corrected, his gaze soft and adoring.

[skzhocomments]

hiii! so i saw your post about the prompts so a random number i would say 81 with hyunjin

thank you 🫶🏻

General Masterlist

Request me a story

Thank you for your request ♥

---

Writing Prompt 81 - A prince sleeps with the pirate captain to get them out of the city AU - Hyunjin

Word count: 4.7k words

Wattpad | AO3

~

Writing Prompt 81: A prince sleeps with the pirate captain to get them out of the city AU – Hyunjin

~

“So, how much longer until we’d get to the Capital?” Seraphine asks, her eyes burning with excitement, auburn as her hair.

“We’re almost there, Captain. Should be getting there in about 3 days’ time. If not for this storm…” One of her subordinates – Felix – answers, briefly glancing outside through the small round window in Seraphine’s cabin.

“It’s fine. We’ve sailed on rougher waters. Ah, I can’t wait to see the Capital. They say it’s the most beautiful city in the continent. I can already picture us roaming around and taking everything we deserve. Do you think ships can sink from too much gold on board?” She chuckles with amusement.

“I doubt it, Miss.” Felix chuckles.

“I’ve heard the Capital is famous for their rare spices. Saffron and anise are native to this part of the continent, after all. We need to make sure to get our hands on them to get even richer once we live this place.” Seraphine contemplates out loud.

“We’re not even there yet and you’re already thinking of what to do when we leave.”

“Why, of course! I need to know what our next move is, always.”

“That’s why we’ve chosen you to be Captain, Miss.”

“Anyway.” She waves her hand around dismissively. “Any news on the imperial navy? I hope those plans still stand and we’d be able to get to the port without any fights.”

“I hope so too.” He chuckles. “They shouldn’t be stationed near the port unless they’ve discovered it. It’s quite stressful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. But we need to do this, Lix.”

“I know…” Felix looks away briefly. “We’ll take our revenge, don’t worry. Those bastards will pay for what they did to our families.”

“We’ll make sure of that.” Seraphine nods.

“I’m afraid we’re biting off more than we can chew, though…” He hesitates.

“I’m not. This is what we’ve prepared for our whole lives, Felix.” She reassures him, and both of them stay in silence as the ship goes through the large waves, passing through the thunderstorm.

~

Fortunately, the pirate ships arrived at the secret port safely, and all the plans Seraphine’s father made were still actual.

It’s the perfect moment to strike, when news of the King falling ill started spreading throughout the continent. Seraphine knows this is the best time to cause havoc and steal to her heart’s content, to take back just a little bit of what the Kingdom took away from her family.

Her father used to be a simple man, working on fishing boats to bring in the Capital’s largest supply of fresh seafood, and, if lucky, of oysters and pearls. He was an honest, respectable worker, always on time to deliver the goods no matter the season, but although he was respected throughout the Capital, he was still just that. A regular man.

His demise was falling in love with a woman. Seraphine’s mother was part of one of the most elite families of the Kingdom, who, of course, would’ve never accepted a poor man dating, let alone marrying one of their daughters.

Her father fought tooth and nail for their love, and so did Seraphine’s mother, but when she fell pregnant out of wedlock, her family turned their backs on her and started interfering with his work. He got fired in no time, and no matter where he’d try to find a job to feed his pregnant girlfriend, he would get rejected.

Her mother was faced with two choices: give birth to the baby and give it away in order to be allowed back into her family – although her chances of marrying a reputable man were non-existent to say the least, considering her past history – or give up on her life as nobility and struggle. She chose the latter.

With no job in sight and a family to feed, Seraphine’s father had to resort to critical measures. He began working off the books on a couple of smaller ships, and when even that failed to bring in enough gold, he had to do something else. He found a band of pirates willing to take him in due to his experience on the sea.

He became part of their crew in no time and things were good for a while. Despite fighting his principles of being honest, he embraced his new lifestyle of stealing and smuggling goods in and out of the Capital. The happiness didn’t last much, though, because when the King found out of all the misdemeanours caused by the pirates, he banished them all from the Capital. He was forced to run away with Seraphine’s mother, who was 8 months pregnant at the time.

Times were rough, and the seas were even rougher. With no proper care and no possibility to access any type of healthcare on land, Seraphine’s mother died giving birth to her, and her father, blinded by grief, swore on his life that he will take revenge on everyone who turned their backs on them: the nobility, the Kingdom… he swore to come back one day and wreck as much of the Capital as he could.

Grief is a way too profound emotion… it wraps time. Her father got stuck in this never-ending circle of hatred, his life ambition becoming solely taking revenge. He ended up becoming Captain of the pirates and grew their riches as much as he could, in order to ensure having a formidable fleet to return secretly to the Capital.

He planned and planned for years, each crew member aware of his schemes and totally on board, as all of them held a grudge against the nobility. They all shared similar stories, similar fates.

However, life is sometimes way too short to fulfil all your plans, and Seraphine’s father ended up losing his after an on-going battle with a mysterious sickness that rendered him bed-ridden in the last years of his life.

Even after he was gone, the pirates’ hatred still remained, and his ambitions lived on. Seraphine ended up following in her father’s steps, becoming the youngest Captain this band of pirates has ever had, and ever since, they’ve began crafting their plan together, building from where her father left off.

They would start slow, a couple of petty thefts here and there, until they’d make their way to the larger businesses and burn them to the ground.

The plan was almost flawless, and with the pirates finally back in the Capital after more than 20 years away, they were ready to execute it. It’d be the biggest they’d ever strike.

~

“Feels good to step on land after so many months.” Seraphine exclaims, stretching her limbs.

“Right? Ahh, I missed it.” Felix smiles sincerely. “I can’t believe we’re finally here.”

“Don’t go too far, Lix. You and I need to stay near the ships, alright?”

“Got it, Miss!” Felix reassures, but still ends up disappearing after a while.

He’s always been a curious child, Seraphine knows, and even if he is already 24, he still acts childish, unfit for his age.

She could never blame him for it, though. The only thing they've ever known was how to live on a ship, so the Capital is bound to be interesting enough and make him want to explore to his heart's content.

~

Thanks to the secret port her father informed them of, all their ships were safely anchored, giving the pirates the opportunity to go in the Capital as they pleased.

And so, they did. In just a few weeks, they stole goods and food, jewellery, and so much gold, they could simply go back to the seas and starts anew in another Kingdom. Seraphine’s eyes sparkle at the thought of all the gold they’ve taken, and she is truly impressed with her people.

However, she is quite surprised that the imperial army is finding it so hard to find the culprits and the reason of their economy plummeting, and she vaguely remembers her father’s warnings that the King is truly sharp, and he’d figure out quickly. With them still able to be in the Capital almost a month after they arrived, she realises that the rumours must be true. He must’ve truly fallen sick.

~

“Miss, the imperial army has discovered the port.” Felix rushes in her cabin as Seraphine is admiring the jewels they’ve managed to steal so far.

“Took them long enough.” She chuckles.

“What will we do?” He is anxiously pacing back and forth. “They brought this letter-”

“Let me see.” She snatches it from his hand and notices the imperial seal.

Opening it hastily, she lets out a laugh.

“What?” Felix asks with a chuckle.

“They apparently don’t want to fight us. They must be afraid we’d make a fool out of them. They proposed a treaty.”

“Really?!” He gasps.

“Let me write a reply and invite the King here.” She laughs again and begins drafting a reply. “If they want to talk us out of the Capital so badly, let’s meet them.”

She writes a list of demands for the King that she doubts would be met. 5000 gold coins – enough money to last them for generations – a couple of jewels, permits to enter the Capital whenever they pleased and the opportunity to trade honestly, without stealing, and most importantly an apology. She feels like everything they’ve caused so far throughout the Capital is enough, but she doubts the pirates’ negative feelings are settled.

An apology from the King would suffice, maybe.

She hands Felix the envelope, and to her surprise, another letter comes the very next day, with the royals accepting a negotiation.

~

“Miss, the King is not here. His son is.” Felix informs her, making her raise an eyebrow.

“The prince?" She asks, and Felix nods. "Alright. Let’s do this.” She stands up. “Guide him here. No guards.”

She is once again surprised that they accepted this rule when she sees the Prince step inside her chambers. He is either a fool or willing to grant her everything she’s asked for. She shall see.

“Hello.” He smiles shortly as he enters, and the first thing Seraphine notices about him is his beauty. He looks elegant and proud, and she’s never seen anyone look this good before.

She’s used to people looking rough. This man, however, is the exact opposite. He looks like the prince you’d read about in fairytales, his black hair styled to perfection, his clothes immaculately white and gold, and his crown steadily on top of his head.

Truly a sight to behold that takes her breath away momentarily. However, she must represent her people, so she won’t stray away, no matter how handsome this man looks like.

“Good day.” Seraphine smiles as well, showing him to a chair. Of course, she doesn’t bow. He might be a royal, but he is on her ship, so she holds the most power.

She almost wants to ask him to bow to her instead, but this thought brings a chuckle to her lips, so she refrains from making such demands.

“I’m a busy man, so I’ll get straight to the point.”

“Not so fast.” She laughs. “What’s your name? I must know who I’m speaking to.”

“Hwang Hyunjin.” The Prince speaks. “To whom do I owe the pleasure?”

“So proper.” She chuckles yet again. “Name’s Seraphine. Now that we got acquainted, please, go ahead. I’m all ears.”

“We’ve analysed your… proposal. And we’re willing to meet some of them, to a certain point.”

“Which is?”

“2000 gold instead of 5000. You’re asking for an absurd sum. Besides, I’m quite certain you’ve already gotten more than enough jewels to sell abroad, considering by what you’re currently wearing.” Hyunjin points to her neck and arms, adorned with multiple necklaces with various precious gems that sparkle brightly even in the dim light of her cabin.

She intentionally decided to dress up for this meeting: a short skirt and a ruffled white blouse with a generous neckline, jewels all over her body – not only around her neck, but also on her thighs, ankles and wrists – just to show him how much they’ve taken, and to send the message that they could take so much more.

“Hmm…” She contemplates. “I shall think about it. What else?”

“The passes for the Capital… I am unable to grant you that. A pass means freedom to conduct business, as you are aware, but a bunch of thieves shouldn’t have that.” He replies with a fake smile, his words spitting poison.

“Thieves?” Seraphine laughs once more. “Hyunjin, darling, almost every person on board my ship used to be an honest working member of your Kingdom. But your father, who, as I can see, hasn’t bothered to grace us with his presence today, made sure that none of them can call this place home anymore. I am simply asking you for the rights you’ve taken away from us. Some of my people still have families they’ve been unable to meet due to this… ostracising by your father.”

“My dear,” he counters, “as you might be aware since you’ve struck at the perfect time, the King is gravely ill. Our Kingdom needs stability, which is why I’ve even considered some of your ridiculous demands. I’d say you should accept them. We’re giving you much more than you deserve, anyway.”

“Hyunjin, let’s not be rash.” She smiles. “It’s clear to me that we are in a very interesting power imbalance here. You’ve come here to ask for my help, to leave your city alone. I am willing to do just that. I don’t want anything to do with your rotten Capital. However, for my crew, I am willing to turn a blind eye from everything you’ve done, as long as you give them the opportunity to come back here if they wish.”

“Seraphine, don’t fool yourself, please. My army could defeat all of you in just a couple of days. Do you really want a blood bath? I am willing to apologise to your crew on behalf of my father. This is why I decided to come here unguarded in the first place. However, be rational. We can’t possibly give you that sum of money, jewels, and on top of that, passes to the Capital. You can pick those that are the most valuable to you and your crew, and I shall promise you in return that no blood will be shed unnecessarily.”

“Who knew such a pretty mouth could spew so much bullshit?” She stands up and walks towards him. “Hyunjin, darling, you’re the soon-to-be king of this Kingdom. You can give me anything, can’t you?” She asks cunningly, a smirk adorning her lips.

“As long as you keep things rational, I could. But just so you know, the fact that I came here in the first place goes against everything I’ve been advised. I want to rule differently, not through war and endless battles. Let us not fight, dear. Leave my city quietly, won’t you?”

He doesn’t move at all in his chair as she approaches him, his confidence quite alluring.

“Let’s do it a bit differently, then. You will give my people passes to the Capital, and instead of giving me gold and jewels, how about…”

Seraphine raises her hand and touches his crown, slowly taking it off Hyunjin’s head.

To her surprise, he lets her do whatever she pleases, so she doesn’t hesitate to put it on her own head.

“This should sell for a pretty penny somewhere.” She finishes, leaning back and supporting her weight against her desk.

Hyunjin stands up and grabs her hand, looking into her eyes, and she feels a rush travel throughout her body at the sudden touch.

“My crown?” He laughs.

She straightens her back and faces him properly, their bodies so close, she can feel his breath on her lips.

“Mhm. I’ve always liked gold and beautiful jewels, and your crown has just that. It’s so pretty, darling.”

Hyunjin smirks and leans in closer, whispering in her ear.

“As long as you give me your word that you’d stop terrorizing my people, I could give you so much, dear. Even if you are a thief, I’m certain your word weighs something.”

She looks up and meets his eyes once more, placing her hands on his collar and holding tightly.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He warns.

“Hyunjin, you might be a prince, but your rules don’t apply on my ship.” She smirks. “I have more power than you in this very moment, you should know.”

Touching royals is prohibited, but she couldn’t care less about their meaningless rules that only work in their favour. She dislikes inequality. Even if she is the Captain of her ships, they’ve always treated each other as equals, and everyone is deserving of respect no matter their status.

“You’re quite outspoken. As expected of a pirate.” Hyunjin replies, smirking himself.

“And you’re quite confident, as expect of a royal.” She scoffs.

“You know, if the crown wouldn’t suit you that well, I would’ve been quite upset by this blatant disrespect. However, I can’t help but notice your beauty, dear Seraphine.”

“Oh, my. I’m flattered.” She jokes. “You don’t look so bad yourself, prince.”

“So, what will it take after all to get you out of my Kingdom, sweetheart?”

“Are you trying to flirt with me to get me to leave?” She lets out a chuckle. “It’s not gonna work, sweetheart. I’ve told you my updated terms. Passes and an official apology for my people and this crown. You can keep your gold and jewellery. See? I’m willing to negotiate with you.”

“Is that so?” He chuckles. “Does it give you a rush of power to wear my crown? I bet it feels really good.” As he says this in a menacing tone, he brings his face even closer, making a jolt travel through Seraphine’s body.

He is way too close, intoxicatingly close, and despite the fact that they are enemies, she can’t deny the effect he apparently has on her body. But still, she didn’t come here to play, and besides hatred and possible desire, there’s no other feelings between them.

“It does, I won’t lie. Is this how you feel when you wake up in the morning and put it on your pretty head? Do you spend a lot of time in front of the mirror admiring yourself?” She mocks, making sure to use the same condescending tone he’s been using by calling her pet names.

Hyunjin doesn’t move away. On the contrary, he stays close, putting his hands on top of hers that are still on his collar, forcing her to let go of his clothes. He guides her hands down and keeps holding onto her fists as he looks her in the eyes with the same determination she’s showing him.

“Why, is this what you’re going to do every day if I give you my crown?” He chuckles. “And here I thought you wanted to sell it, beautiful.”

“I don’t know, Hyunjin. It might give me a rush, but do you know what truly makes me delighted? The thought of all the money I’ll make once I sell these jewels I’ve stolen.”

As she says this, she snatches her hand away from his and brings it to her neck, making sure to drag her fingers deliberately slowly over the golden necklace right on top of her décolletage.

Hyunjin’s eyes follow her movements closely, as the hand that previously rested on top of hers finds its way to her waist.

“Passes for a handful of your people – not all of them – and my apology.” He speaks, his eyes darting back to hers.

“A handful of them?”

“The ones that directly attacked the Capital won’t be allowed to stay here. I hope you understand my reasoning, but no one would feel comfortable knowing that they’re trading with a bunch of pirates that previously stole their goods.”

Seraphine thinks long and hard for a few moments. Despite having an advantage over Hyunjin, she knows that this wouldn’t last much longer. She is still facing the most powerful army of the continent, and it’s a surprise that Hyunjin wanted to talk in the first place.

If they were to fight the imperial army, they might win a few battles, but at what cost? They would eventually end up losing everything they worked for, and God knows they’ve already caused a lot of damage, even more than they were initially expected.

Being a leader is tough, and although Seraphine wants to believe in her people’s victory over everything else, she must be realistic. They’ve already gotten way more than they hoped for.

Being a leader means knowing when to back down.

“… Fine.” She says after a while. “Passes for some of my people and an apology sounds reasonable enough.”

“I knew we would eventually see eye to eye.” He smiles.

“And your crown.” Seraphine adds, Hyunjin’s expression becoming more amused.

“No.” He shakes his head. “A kiss.”

“A kiss?” She laughs in disbelief. “I don’t want that from you, Hyunjin.”

“Seraphine, with how you’ve been looking at me for the past thirty minutes, I’d say you’re right. You’d like way more than that, wouldn’t you?”

He moves the hand from her waist up, until he cups her right breast, and with his other hand still holding onto her fist, he raises her arm and guides it around his neck.

“Says you, who’s been invading my personal space for the past 10 minutes.” She laughs.

“You don’t seem to mind.” Hyunjin counters.

“It seems to me you’re the one who’s hoping for that kiss.” Seraphine smirks cunningly. “And with how comfortable you seem to be touching me, tell me, prince, should I give it to you?”

Hyunjin chuckles, and everything happens swiftly. His mouth falls on Seraphine’s, who’s kissing him back and bringing him closer, her fingernails digging in the skin of his nape.

He lets out a soft moan as she bites his bottom lip, his hands moving to her waist to raise her on the desk. It’s not the most comfortable place to make out on, but it provides enough comfort to allow Hyunjin to press his upper body against her even closer as their kiss deepens.

He places one of his hands firmly against her thigh, right on top of her jewellery, and squeezes tightly.

Seraphine gets slightly frustrated with how difficult it is to take the Prince’s clothes off – the million buttons she has to undone, which she feels are so unnecessary. Why does the nobility want to dress up so proper, she wonders?

In contrast, her ruffled blouse is quick to fly off her body, leaving her naked and exposed, if not for the many necklaces and jewels adorning her chest.

“My darling, you are indeed a beautiful pirate princess.” Hyunjin breaks the kiss to admire her as she leans back on the desk.

“Oh, yeah?” She chuckles. “Why don’t you do your duty and kneel in front of this princess, then?”

The power dynamics strikes her once more, giving her another rush as Hyunjin kneels down in front of her, raising her skirt and removing her panties slowly.

He begins kissing his way up her thighs, spreading her legs apart and connecting his mouth to her core, licking stripes skilfully as she rolls her head back and moans.

“My fucking God, you’re sweet.” He compliments, revelling in her taste, his tongue drawing circles on her bundle of nerves, listening to her hurried breaths and making sure to give her pleasure.

“You’re quite good with words, who knew you’d be so good with your tongue, too?” She compliments back, when his tongue moves inside her opening, preparing her for what’s to come.

“Do you like my tongue that much, pirate? Will you let go for me?”

“It takes more than that to make me come, Prince.” She chuckles lowly. “Why don’t you come over here and show me what else you’re capable of?”

“So demanding.” He laughs. “I shall.”

He stands straight and unbuckles his belt, removing his white trousers and taking out his hardened dick. He doesn’t hesitate to press it against her pussy, making her lick her lips in anticipation, and with a swift motion, he bottoms out into her.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He groans. “You take me so well though.”

“Come on, Hyunjin, don’t stall.” She commands, and with another chuckle, Hyunjin listens and begins setting a steady pace, moving his hips perfectly to graze her sweet spot with each push of his cock inside of her.

“Shouldn’t feel this good.” Hyunjin closes his eyes shut, trying his hardest not to cum first, but Seraphine is sure making it difficult with her nails scratching his arms softly.

“It does, though.” She affirms, letting out a moan as she feels herself getting closer. “Keep that up, will you? I’m almost- oh, God!” She exclaims letting her head fall back once more, welcoming the bliss of orgasm.

Seeing this beautiful sight, Hyunjin can’t hold back any longer, and he ends up releasing himself with a final push and a loud groan.

As he separates himself from her, he pulls her up to kiss her one last time before both of them start getting dressed.

“I think it’s time to sign on your promises, Prince.” Seraphine says, her breath still hurried and her cheeks slightly flushed.

She stands up and grabs a piece of paper, beginning to draft a contract between her and the Prince. She makes sure to include every term they’ve spoken about – except for the crown, which she realises was a way too big power play – and when both parties seem satisfied, Hyunjin signs and stamps his seal.

“I believe an apology is due. Bring out your crew on the deck.”

They both exit the room together, moment when Hyunjin’s guards and Felix run to them.

“Negotiations took longer than expected. I was almost about to barge in.” Felix says, his face worried, but noticing Seraphine’s mild expression, he grows calm.

“Felix, please bring out everyone, the Prince has an announcement to make.”

~

Keeping true to his word, Hyunjin apologizes in front of everyone on behalf of his father, and informs Seraphine’s crew that they are welcome in the Kingdom, as long as they give their word to stop causing havoc.

To her surprise, her people’s hearts are settled with this, and most of her crew decides to reject the offer of staying in the Kingdom for good. However, knowing that they are welcomed back whenever, they thank the Prince for his consideration and bow to their Captain, pledging loyalty and thanking her for making this possible.

“So, I guess this is it.” Hyunjin turns to Seraphine. He wants to grab her hand and touch her one last time, however, with so many eyes on them, he refrains to do so, but she is able to read some sort of longing in his eyes that she can’t quite put her finger on.

“Let us never see each other again, then.” She nods with a sweet smile, grateful that she finally completed her father’s mission.

She is finally a free woman, devoid of any obligations.

She is free.

“Will you ever come back?” Hyunjin asks, his tone slightly hopeful.

“Why, do you think you’ll miss me?” She chuckles. “I thought you said I should leave this city and never return.”

“Well… I did say that. However, in case you decide to visit the Capital again… you know where to find me.”

“Should I request an audience to meet His Highness, then?” She smirks.

“No.” He shakes his head. “This shall suffice.”

With these words, he takes off his crown and places it on top of her head, leaving her speechless.

“If you don’t sell this, showing it to my guards should be enough. They’ll know you’re not a foe.”

“Thank you, Prince. I shall think about not selling it, then.”

They smile briefly before they both nod at each other, and with this, Hyunjin takes his leave.

Seraphine turns to her crew with a genuine smile adorning her lips, and addresses them warmly. These people decided to follow her, to trust her, and to stay by her side even if the Prince offered them a place in the Kingdom, which she couldn’t be more grateful for.

“It’s time for us to go. Our job here is done.”

~

As her crew prepares for departure, Seraphine rests her hands on her ship’s railing, watching the vast sea that awaits them with awe.

She wonders if she will ever come back, if she will ever see Hyunjin again, and she thinks about the crown resting in her treasures chest where she locked it securely.

She doesn’t think she will have the heart to sell it, after all.

~The End~

[dissapointu]

hey! Thank you for sharing your writing process and advice, I'm sure it will help me improve?

Also, you mentioned in that post that "English isn't your strongest suit", and it made me curious to know what your native tongue is (if you're comfortable sharing that information) since I really couldn't tell English is not your first language!

As for the request: could you write a short drabble or headcanons (whichever you prefer) about Ekko with a s/o who's not used to receiving physical affection?

(omg this turned out too long i'm so sorry)

-🫧

Bubbles!!

Ah, Im not fond of sharing that much information, but I will def do your Drabble and headcanons for you!

————————————————————————

Drabble:

Ekko noticed the way you stiffened every time he leaned in for a quick side hug or brushed his fingers against yours when handing you something. You always tried to play it off, but he wasn’t dumb—he saw the way you glanced away, the little jolt in your shoulders, like you were half bracing for something bad to happen. It wasn’t rejection; you let him touch you, but it was obvious you weren’t used to it.

One evening, you sat together at the Firelights’ hideout, the glow of his hoverboard casting faint neon shadows across the walls. You were fiddling with something he couldn’t see, pretending to be way too focused on it. Ekko, lounging back against some cushions, gave you a soft smirk.

“You know,” he started, voice easy and teasing, “I’m not a mind reader, but I feel like hugs shouldn’t make you look like I just asked you to fight Sevika in the pits.”

Your head snapped up, wide-eyed. “What? I don’t—”

“You do,” he interrupted, sitting forward now, resting his elbows on his knees. “Not saying it’s bad or anything. Just… What’s up with that?”

You hesitated. You wanted to say something. Wanted to explain. But the words got tangled in your throat, knotted with embarrassment and a lifetime of just… not being held.

Ekko caught your pause and his grin softened. “Hey, it’s cool. No pressure.” He reached out, palm up, halfway between you. “But, like… if you ever want me to hold your hand or whatever? I’m here. No weirdness, no judgment.”

You stared at his hand for what felt like an eternity, heart thudding in your chest like the hoverboard’s engine. Finally, carefully, you set your hand in his, your fingers trembling slightly.

Ekko’s thumb brushed over your knuckles, slow and steady, like he was anchoring you. “See?” he said quietly. “No explosions. You’re safe with me.”

And for the first time, you believed it.

Headcanons:

1. Ekko is observant as hell – He picks up on your body language way before you ever say anything about it. The stiff posture, the way you hesitate before returning a hug, the awkwardness when he casually ruffles your hair—it’s all logged in his brain.

2. Slow, steady affection is his strategy – Ekko doesn’t push you into big gestures. He starts small: a fist bump, a quick shoulder pat, maybe even offering you his jacket when it’s cold. He lets you get comfortable at your own pace.

3. Physical affection turns into a shared language – Once you start easing into it, Ekko makes physical affection feel natural and safe. He’ll rest his arm along the back of your chair when you’re sitting together or pull you into his side during Firelight meetings when you’re tired.

4. Words first, touch later – He’s great at offering verbal reassurance before anything physical. “You good with this?” “Can I hug you?” He makes sure you feel in control of the moment.

5. He loves the progress you make – That first time you initiate something? Like leaning into his side or grabbing his wrist to pull him closer? He melts. He tries to act chill about it, but his smile is so big it’s embarrassing.

6. Turns it into an inside joke – If you ever freeze up after he hugs you, he’ll jokingly hold his hands up like, “Alright, my bad, didn’t mean to spook you!” It’s lighthearted, but he’s serious about never crossing your boundaries.

7. Big on protective touch – Even if you’re still getting used to casual affection, Ekko’s hand instinctively finds the small of your back when you’re weaving through crowds or sitting close during tense situations. He’s subtly saying, I got you.

8. Once you’re comfortable, he’s touchy as hell – Once you give the green light, it’s over. He’s playfully tapping your nose, looping an arm around your shoulders, or tugging you into his lap like it’s second nature. He thrives on showing you how much he cares, and now he doesn’t have to hold back.

[absolutebl]

Given the wide range of BL you've consumed and analyzed. I am curious at your perspective when comparing BLs made/written by men and those that were written by women, in a different direction, comparing BLs directed by men in comparison to women.

If you could have the time and give your perspective in this two sources of BL , that would be great.

Hum, I'm not sure how to answer this. Except in a kind of avoidance way because I question the premise.

I think, in general, in most of the film industry, the original writing has very little to do with the final result, because so many new voices and povs are imposed on it the moment it begins to be adapted. After a BL leaves its author (predominantly female) it goes to script, a writers room, and eventually into the hands of director and team. All those people are different genders (predominantly male). And all of them have a significant impact on the end result.

Sometimes the author has unprecedented influence (mame for example) but that's pretty unusual.

Statistically speaking, the origin IP (whether novel or graphic) is most likely written by a female and the resulting BL most likely directed by a male.

There are always exceptions, of course.

Even putting aside all the other people, mostly script writers, in between the two primaries (which I just don't think you can) it would be statistically challenging to draw any commonalities amongst female directors (since there are so few) or amongst male writers (for the same reason). In other words, we have many many examples of really only 1 of the 4 possible combinations, and all those examples are muddied by the nature of the filming process (not to mention the nature of gender).

In other words, it would be challenging for me to say things are generally preferable in any one version of the pairings.

I have liked BLs written and directed by women, written by a woman directed by a man, written by a man directed by a woman, or written and directed by men (although those last two I would struggle to name any BLs).

However, I have also liked and then disliked BLs from the same general team and combination of genders behind the creatives.

For me, at least, there doesn't seem to be a reliable team or a reliable writer or a reliable director whose BL product I will reliably love.

I would hesitate to place a predictor on my BL taste (or anyone else's) based on the gender of any part of the team behind a BL. That seems..... weird. Especially when queers and 3rd gender etc are involved (and we have always been involved in artistic spaces for as long as humans have existed, I suspect).

But then I feel that way about most entertainment, from music to books to plays to comedy to fashion. I can be a fan of a director's style but not like some of their shows, just as I can be a fan of an actor's performance but not the character they're playing, or a fan of a pair's chemistry but not in those roles, and so forth.

I think what youth and influencers and the internet age has forgotten is that it's okay to admire a creative individual and not slavishly adore everything that they produce. (For fuck's sake though, don't tell them that, you absolute troll.)

Creatives and creative teams also have their own taste, and that may conflict with yours. Especially with newer IP where you might want the same old same old and they need to evolved. Consumers of entertainment are remarkably resistant to creativity, innovation, and change (so oxymoronic) .

It's okay, maybe you'll like their next BL, song, book, painting, performance......

I have no idea how I got here but:

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

I do have some stuff on a queer lens here:

[lychee-drinks]

Can i request a scenario where

Vasco and jay's s/o take away cuddling access for a month? Like they're in a fight or something

Hope this wasn't too confusing!

Vasco and Jay’s reaction to their S/O taking away cuddling for a month after a fight

(a/n): don’t actually do this in real life

Vasco

So you and Vasco got into a fight over the fact that Vasco always chooses Burn Knuckles over you. You didn’t mind that he valued them a lot and part of the reason why you fell for him were his ideals in the gang. But more often than not, if he had the choice to go to the arcade with Burn Knuckles or to hang out with you, he’d choose Burn Knuckles.

This was a habit of his and it wasn’t the first time the two of you argued over this. Because sure, you understood the issues with gang violence going on and how he wanted to be a dedicated leader, but he was neglecting someone important in the process.

So in retaliation, you banned him from cuddling and a lot of affection from you.

Vasco didn’t know of course. You didn’t want to tell him.

Whenever you and Vasco met, Vasco was always affectionate and would hug you tight. But after your decision, you brushed him off.

“Sorry I’m not feeling it.”

And Vasco was dumbfounded, because you always hugged him back.

He thought nothing of it at first and eventually, he realized you weren’t being affectionate or even cuddling him whenever the two of you did hang out. If he was chilling at yours watching a movie, you would sit up the whole time.

It’s eating him up inside. It’s making him anxious and he’s asking Jace what’s up. He isn’t gonna hold himself back so he asks you what’s up and if there’s something wrong. He’s on his knees and everything.

“Hey, you’ve been really distant to me lately please tell me what’s wrong because it’s really eating me up inside.”

And then you feel bad. The look on Vasco’s face is that he was genuinely worried there was something you were hiding from him.

So you apologize to him, telling him that you just wanted to get some petty revenge, but he really needed to make a change. So he understood the message that he really needed to focus on you and you learned that you should never do something like this again.

Jay Hong

You and Jay got into a fight over Jay’s secretiveness. He’s always been the quiet type of guy, doesn’t really explain things and unintentionally leaves things out.

So then there’s a bad miscommunication between the two of you, not because you didn’t understand, but he didn’t explain something important to you. And it pisses you off because you just want to understand him better.

What’s the answer that you choose? To take away cuddling access for a month.

Jay is an affectionate person. He’s more hugging over talking much. So hearing this from you, it will sound like hell.

You’re upfront about it to Jay and he’s devastated. Jay is a person of few to no words at all and communicates through his affection.

Since you’re pissed at him, you turn down his advances and when you do so, he’s left standing there wondering why.

It’s a bit of a painful look he has that I don’t think you could continue doing that for a month.

So with Jay, don’t take away his cuddling access for a month over an argument because you will lose one of his main forms of communication and his hurt look will devastate you.

But once you really talk with him, he gets the message and really tries to make a change.

[doctorsiren]

I saw an interesting post a while back that said “Capcom made us [Miles and Diego/Godot] only have like two(?) interactions because they knew we would be unstoppable with a brother dynamic” and tbh it stuck with me bc it was intriguing.

So yeah that potential brotherhood, but that Godot/Diego AU I made (that I still need a name for)

Also I bet Gregory Edgeworth would have smelled like a bit like coffee, and so Diego just reminds Miles of that comforting presence 😭 (the von Karma estate was a tea household, so he didn’t smell much coffee after DL-6 and didn’t realize how much he missed it/reminded him of his father)

[hc-artz]

Redraws are all I seem to do anymore 😅

[necer0s]

If I had a nickel for every time that a main character from The Adventure Zone got put in a wooden puppet, I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice.

[oniii-fans]

SUN

[chopshajen]

Oooooh I have some art in my folders that I can post and I should do that

[myloveforhergoeson]

writing sooo much about brand new day between the new chapter and warped au… thinking lots about them + music i think they’d play/write/sound like and i’m putting together a playlist to share but! i’m also putting one together of songs i think roxy would write outside of bnd and btr :)

here’s one i think she’s written about her and mag circa the time she left the band <3

[pyroexcape]

misc kazuha design drafts

[sco07ut]

i’ve got like 20 mins until my bus shows up and i’m bored so, at risk of being mobbed by that specific brand of over-30-cishet-female-mat-baynton-stans, i would like to talk about why i think transfem thomas thorne could actually be a good route for his character growth !

(but it’s below the cut bc it’s long discussion </3)

so obviously being infatuated with alison is an integral part to thomas’ character, aside from being a terrible poet it’s one of his most identifying traits. even in episodes where he’s tried to ‘grow out of it’ (see: s4e2) he’s still back to his original state at the end of the episode (and while this could be chalked up to the fact that you stays how you dies and therefore can’t grow as a person i would like to raise you this: he obviously was not obsessed with alison when he died, therefore i think there’s still some hope for him yet) anyway ! got off track a bit there,

thomas can’t ‘grow out of’ loving alison until he recognises why he loves alison - or perhaps, the idea of alison (now this could lead onto a talk abt why i also think and hc that tom is aromantic but people have covered that before)

let’s backtrack for a moment and review what exactly we know and/or can infer about thomas: he’s unlike the other men we see in the thomas thorne affair, his interests, opinions on romance and accumulated skills aren’t particularly masculine.

he’s very creative (just because he’s bad at it doesn’t mean the drive isn’t there), adores the arts (written word, paintings, songs), he clearly values women for who they are as people (and to a degree, their looks) and bases his affections on that, as opposed to financial gain (squints at francis button), and he clearly hasn’t had any experience when it comes to duels or fights in general and his general ‘layabout’ personality would definitely reflect the fact that rich women in the 1800s had very few responsibilities and obviously weren’t expected to work.

now, all of these aren’t inherently feminine traits, this is obvious, we all know this, i’m not saying that men can’t do these things. kindly don’t take my words out of context, but in the case of a man who lived in the 1800s, they can be seen as pretty feminine. this also isn’t the basis for my argument, i just want to point out a few things before i get into the meat of it !

and slightly less solid reasoning: mat baynton just plays him really fruitily. if you asked me to explain it i don’t think i could, but cmon just look at him

anywa, it’s pretty much an accepted part of the fanbase by now that thomas is bad at recognising what sort of love he’s feeling, and i raise you this: what if the desire he’s feeling for alison isn’t romantic, but is instead, desiring to be her.

(if you’re a lesbian, this is a familiar concept: do i want to date her or be her?)

he could potentially see elements of himself in alison, her own appreciation for art, and maybe even traces of the physical self (slim, white, dark haired? - this could also support the reasons why he was such a strong interest in lucy, who also shares these features, but hasn’t expressed any canon interest in fanny or kitty. mary is a bit of an outlier here but it’s whatever, my hc just has pockets ig). and when we have a great appreciation for someone we can tend to idolise them a little. in thomas’ mind, alison could potentially just be an idealised version of who he wants to be, and in his own confusion when it comes to recognising that fact, he could be mistaking admiration for adoration.

thomas is very clearly an idiot, the entire series is proof of that, and generally unless the facts are laid out right in front of him he doesn’t Get things. when we consider the fact that transgenderism was extremely uncommon and likely incredibly underground, thomas probably doesn’t even know it’s an option outside of the way that literally everyone ponders what it would’ve been like to have been born the opposite sex at least once in their life.

so why do i think this would be an effective way to fix thomas’s weird infatuation with alison?

well, at this point in the series it’s obvious that thomas isn’t just going to stop ‘loving’ her, there needs to be some big wake-up call that makes him stop. however, i feel that the longer ThemThere keep dragging out this part of his character, the harder it’ll be to bounce back from it. right now we’re lucky that thomas is such an avidly romantic character, his obsession with alison is uncomfortable enough as it currently stands but at least we know it’s innocent and emotional. but as the series goes on i just worry that that line could start to blur.

at this point, thomas suddenly moving on from alison seems entirely unfeasible and he would definitely need to have some element of identity rocked to really consider what it is about alison that he’s obsessed with. of course i’d be completely happy if that happened to be the fact that he’s aromantic or aroace but i just think thomas ending up transfem would be an interesting route to go down as an alternative (bc i know some people are very much ride and die when it comes to certain ships. and i’ll admit, i do appreciate a bit of romance between tom n different characters)

i feel like it would also be a better justification for his infatuation with her aside from just ‘too much love’ (thomas thorne=ashfur.?), obviously all obsessions are a bit iffy but i feel like if it came from a place of ‘i really want to be her and don’t know how to express that’ instead of just ‘i want her’ it would be a bit less weird. less creepy i think? and it’s an issue that can actually be worked through and addressed properly with ways of helping thomas transition instead of telling him to simply stop loving alison.

plus it would make all their interactions just so much sweeter !! whenever they talk i’m always on the edge of my seat waiting for thomas to make some weird remark but augh!!!!! they could b girl best friends !!!!

and it’s not like the cast is adverse to playing trans women ! gabriel and ho-tan are such beloved characters, gabriel gets her happy ending and even though ho-tan’s wish is reversed it’s still very much implied that they respect her identity (i do wish they had explored or at least addressed this more though) (however, ho-tan’s femininity is never the subject of a joke like gabriel’s is, so i suppose they even each other out)

anyway my final reason for tom being transfem is that dear god i’m jsut a simple lesbian please please let me have this i won’t ask for anything else i swear