#i'm just excluding it from this for two reasons

[osterby]

A lot of people in the comments seem to be interpreting zero comments as uninterested silence, but a single kudos means that someone out there liked your fic enough to press a button about it.

Zero comments is common, but zero kudos is pretty rare

(same buckets as OTNF's comments graph for ease of comparison [and because I'm doing this real quick while waiting for queues in FFXIV rather than making a proper project of it], but kudos are so plentiful that these are not meaningful buckets for the larger end of things)

But there are other factors to consider, as well.

If we search AO3 for works with no comments, no kudos, no bookmarks (bookmarks are less common but they are meaningful interaction), and posted before January 9th (I think two weeks is pretty reasonable for those the first interactions to come in), we get 305,951, or 2.14% of the archive

If we exclude backdated works from that (backdating shoves the fic out of the front page of the default sort and is sometimes done deliberately to reduce interactions), we're left with only 245,280, 1.73% of the archive.

So yes, the most common number of comments to get on a fic is zero, but it is highly unusual for a fic to actually be met with uninterested silence.

And it'd be interesting to dig deeper and figure out what fics actually do get uninterested silence. A glance at the fics in those search results shows a lot of tiny fandoms, minimal tagging, and sparse and uninformative summaries. I'm not sure a fic like this actually wants to be found.

Perhaps the moral of the story is that if you want people to interact with your work on AO3, tag your fic accurately, don't backdate it, and copypasta a few lines from the fic into the summary.

And my queue just popped, so if you want to dig into those nothing fics (or go throw some kudos at some lonely authors under those links), it's all yours.

I got curious a minute ago and pulled some AO3 numbers.

I'm too lazy to fiddle with the bucket sizes to make this look better.

[radio-ghost-cooks]

hi tumblr, your friendly neighborhood culinary student here! the inaugruation luncheon menu is perhaps the single most politically-charged menu i've ever laid eyes on, and i want to deconstruct it. so without further ado:

a culinary student's analysis of the 2025 Inaugural Luncheon Menu

First course: Chesapeake Crab Cake with tomato tartar[e], bay sauce, pickled vegetables, romanesco, dill, and chive oil

right off the bat, we're presented with a single-option menu, which from an event planning (and thus business, which i'm majoring in) standpoint is already a horrible choice. it's also very indicative of Trump's view on choice. my way or the high way, even if its impossible for you. it's immediately alienating people with a shellfish/seafood allergy. this is going to be a common trend here. (also, note the misspelling of "tartare." tartar is a mayo-based sauce. tartare is a finely chopped vegetable dish, which the tomato element is far more likely to be.)

Second course: Greater Omaha Angus Ribeye Steak with Thumbelina carrots, broccoli rabe, carrot top herb sauce, red wine truffle jus, and potato gratin

this course is the most obvious display of values. we start with the omaha steak. statistically, men (however my professor is defining "men") are more likely to prefer steak to other meats, while women (however my professor is defining "women") are more likely to prefer lighter proteins like chicken or fish. it's very in-line with actions taken against women's rights and reproductive health, like the removal of resources.

similarly, this also declares a support of the beef livestock industry, which is the most negatively-impactful sector of the food and beverage industry on the climate. for years, there's been a push to promote alternative meats or make more plant-forward dishes to reduce the impact of beef farming. this is the exact opposite of that. the meat draws the attention in this menu.

this also excludes anyone who cannot eat red meat, or follow diets that exclude it for health, environmental, or political reasons.

then we move to the jus, which is a sauce made primarily using the juice lost in the pan during the cooking process of a meat, normally beef or veal. in this instance, it's combined with red wine and truffles, both viewed as luxurious foodstuffs by most. the dish radiates the vibe of a classic steakhouse dish. very "i'm so high-class, look at me! i'm protein-heavy and full of fancy things!" a very plain meal under a veneer of costly ingredients and percieved value.

Third course: Minnesota Apple Ice Box Terrine with sour cream ice cream and salted caramel

my immediate question, as someone who grew up in NY, is why they went with Minnesota apples as opposed to NY apples when NY is far more known for the fruit. the answer is quite simple. Trump doesn't like NY. NY voted against him, so they chose another state's apples. (this isn't to say that Minnesota apples are lesser than NY ones at all. it's simply a matter of expectation when NYC is the Big Apple and cideries litter the local landscape.)

and again we see the exclusion of those with dietary restrictions with the sour cream ice cream. good luck to anyone in attendance with a dairy allergy or lactose intolerance.

and lastly, a note on the wines. all four were from the USA. not a French or Italian or just generally foreign one in sight. two of the four were California wines, likely as a nod to his Silicon Valley friends. the other two were Virginia and New Mexico.

the menu overall reinforces what we've already seen: a highlight on the rich, the exclusion of anyone who isn't a cishet white man, and even then alienation of anyone who isn't physically flawless. this is fascism in a menu.

[the--highlanders]

for real though jamie so rarely properly breaks down. the vast majority of times we see him in real distress are when his friends are threatened (most often the doctor, but also notably victoria), but he never loses it completely. his hatred of bennik in enemy of the world is seething and repulsed but /controlled/. his monologue in the glorious revolution is full of hurt and anger but still clear and thought-out. the deleted scene in evil of the daleks where he thinks the doctor has been converted into a dalek is basically the only time we see him truly shut down and give up, and even that is just listless resignation, not an explosion of emotion.

all of which is interesting as a character beat!! he doesn't come across as the type of person who doesn't feel things deeply, so it seems more likely that he just keeps himself very tightly controlled. takes his grief and hurt and turns it into something useful, to keep other people moving forward. shoves his anger down until he can see past the red in his eyes to /talk/, to spit out thought-through insults, to lose his temper without losing himself. anything uglier and messier is deeply /private/. there's so much to that.

but god, i just think we're long past due for something where it does all explode out of him and that facade properly falls away.

[in-tua-deep]

wait i just remembered. on friday we has a "awesome committee" staff meeting which is apparently just a meeting for staff to like. bring food. play games. and bond with each other? and this week we played two truths and a lie

mine were i have only broken one bone and it wasn't even my fault (lie), i'm the youngest of five children (true), and i dislocated my arm six times before the age of seven (also true)

so many people picked the youngest of five children as the lie. one person commented that they thought i might have four sibling but i don't give off youngest child energy or something

what does that mean

what. what energy do i give off. what birth order vibe do i have. i just remember this happened and it has been haunting me ever since

[britishaccentcharacterpoll]

Ok imma be real it's getting to the point where I hope Demoman goes out (I love him) just so I never have to read another tag comment about how he's not British ever again

[demaparbat-hp]

Re: your comment about having a lot to say about your most recent Tales From The Couch comic: I, at least, would love to hear all of it and more, if and when you feel like sharing.

Your aus, while I'm here, are fantastic. Tales From The Couch is always a good laugh, Kintsugi is viscerally touching(compliment), and while I can't recall your others at the moment, I can recall that I've universally enjoyed them.

Omg thank you so much! It makes me so happy that you enjoy my AUs and ideas! It's truly motivating ❤️

As for the latest Tales from the Couch comic, I realize I never did reblog my crazy ramblings like I promised I would. Oops.

It's mostly thoughts about their group dynamics. Like how Sokka likes to brag about his almighty strategic abilities and superior intellect, only to then be thoroughly obliterated at Monopoly. Or how Toph somehow ends in jail at every single turn, and uses her time-out wisely—laughing at Sokka, mainly.

Suki is just that great at (almost) everything (singing being excluded from the things-Suki-is-awesome-at list for survival reasons). Meanwhile, absolutely everyone owns Aang a debt or two. Or three.

Katara is an absolute menace who takes the game way too seriously despite claiming that she isn't too interested in it. Zuko has been permanently banned from ever playing Monopoly again after the Great Ashrain Bankruptcy of '22.

[loveandleases]

gonna send in another "Make Chris suffer" ask, with regards to the pregnancy I sent about MC starting a family with an RO, and ask what Jade and Chris would think of this scenario? You said once that Chris desperately wanted a family, so I can only imagine that seeing MC have one with the ROs would be...well. You know. Would the flavor of that change with regards to the RO? (This might have been answered last year? Not sure. Sending it anyway because why not. If so, apologies!)

Jade doesn't want a family, but that doesn't mean she won't be jealous because MC is doing it first. Just the idea that MC is doing something before Jade, well it annoys her. Especially since she knows how badly her father had always wanted another child after MC. Three was the perfect number for him, so she could just imagine how happy he would be to be a grandfather (that's if MC would even allow it considering.)

Chris still desperately wants their own family. The flavor changes a little bit. Either way Chris isn't happy when they hear MC is going to have a family.

(The rest is below the cut.)

❤️ Cam - This one hurts the most, for obvious reasons. There's an undeniable competition between the two of them, there always has been, and there always will be.

Chris can't stand the thought of MC with Cam, the thought of MC raising a family with him. It sets their blood to boil. To Chris, it feels like a slap in the face. Because in their eyes, in their twisted view, they should be the ones doing that with MC. (Chris conveniently forgets they put themselves in this situation.) It makes Chris' skin crawl. Makes them think of all the times they saw the two of you interact and those little moments they always felt excluded from.

To think MC picked the weakest Clarke to be a father to their children, it's pathetic..laughable…infuriating. But most of all, it hurts. Enough to the point they feel like they could cry. Is it anger, longing, or regret? Only Chris knows.

💙 G - Doesn't hurt as much as it does with Cam, but it still rubs them the wrong way. In Chris' mind, they stole MC from G, for themselves. They were the better choice. So, why G? If you cared so much about them, why weren't you with them then or why didn't you stay with them? (Chris of course excuses themself of the blame from that situation.) They could see G being a better parent than Cam, so there's that. G at least has a real job, a real degree. So in that regard, they'd be a good parent.

💚 Kara - Chris won't be happy about it, not at first. But, if they could learn to be happy about anyone having a family with MC, it would be Kara. Because in their way, they do love their sister, and want her to be happy. There would be moments of envy, that Kara gets to see that side of MC, and have those experiences they longed for. Some part of Chris hopes that one day MC would even let them be apart of the kid's life…if even just for a moment. To see that side of MC, and learn to see why they chose Kara.

💛 M - So..I mean this might be a spoiler. But Chris is very much a fan of M's. I'm talking about having multiple signed copies of M's books, different collections. Chris is a simp for author M. So, imagine their surprise when they find out that the author they love and adore is having a family with their ex. It's...mind blowing. Because, who saw that coming? Chris isn't sure who to be more envious of, M for being with MC - I mean starting a family. Or you, for being with the one author they actually enjoy. They would be more confused than anything, but they could get behind this duo.

💜 Isaac - So Chris and Isaac have a history since Kara is best friends with I. This means Chris knows more than players do about Isaac and what they've been through. They were never a fan, but when is Chris ever a fan of people that isn't themself? They always thought Kara could do better than Isaac, and that sentiment stands for MC. They don't think Isaac could be a good parent or role model in general. Just cut your loses while you still can.

🖤 Ardent - Why? In their eyes Ardent isn't worse than Cam…but really? The landlord? Granted most of Chris' ire comes from the fact that Ardent won't let them near you. At. All. Not around his partner, not around his child. Chris isn't a fan of that, especially since Chris is so used to getting what they want. The last thing they want is MC having a family with someone else…with Ardent. In Chris' eyes, Ardent is a meathead. They don't see how caring Ardent can be around his niece, or how much he softens around MC. How much he is willing to do for other people.big bad softie right here. Which is fine, because as long as MC is happy, that's all Ardent cares about. And Cupid of course.

[brekkie-e]

Thinking a lot about how the devs basically said there is no conflict in the team or between historically opposed people in Thedas in this game because "the stakes are too high, everyone has to work together." When the stakes are very very similar to Inquisitions?? Albeit we as a player know it's "real" this time. The big one.

But correct me if I'm wrong here (I'm not) the previous antagonist was a blighted OP mage with a knock off Archdemon trying to tear down the veil and ascend to godhood? And we are currently trying to *checks notes* defeat a blighted OP mage with an Archdemon trying to fuck up the veil and ascend to godhood? Oh sorry. Two.

Yes, the Blight. But it's hardly as though there weren't Blight concerns in Inquisition. Adamant, anyone?

Anyways, my point being is that the characters of Inquisition have no reason to see the stakes of that story as any less dire than the characters of Veilgaurd. And bless their hearts, those kids have Issues™️. They're all in on petty conflict. That was part of the genius, that the stakes were so high these deeply different people had to find a way to work together despite butting heads.

And the rest of the world didn't suddenly forget it's drama as well? Halamshiral's underlying elven rebellion. Orlesian civil war. The Mages vs the Templars. Chantry infighting. Seeker infighting. Tranquility. They didn't all go, "wait! there's a hole in the sky! we should put aside hundreds of years of systemic issues in the name of togetherness." Excluding the Inquisition that is.

Okay, Blight. Let's talk about the Blight. The Fifth one. You have the most rag tag group thrown together to stop the spread. This is literally the game that founded the series. Its defining features were political conflict. The king was betrayed! In a battle against Darkspawn! During a Blight! What a time to not stand as a united front, Loghain. In your own party, you're trying desperately to prevent Morrigan from emotionally assasinating Alistair. Oh! More conflict. While we are here, let's murder her mom real quick because *checks notes* Blights are when we all come together to hold hands.

If you play as an elf, you're putting up with human nonsense. If you play as a mage, you put up with mage nonsense. If you play as a woman- oh boy. I would make the argument that the realness of that setting, the way it highlighted human nature's best and worst qualities- is why it sunk it's claws into so many fans hearts.

It just.... whatever they've got going in Veilgaurd on only works for a YA novel. Which Dragon Age has never tried to be before. And, frankly, is a weird thing for it to aim for.

[pushingdaisies1]

hihi I am not sure how to submit a request because I have never really done one before but isit possible if u could do a myunggi x female reader fic😓😓🙏🙏 I haven't really seen much ffs about him and I really want to see his protective side being portrayed🙌

➜ ౨ৎ Paz Con Usted.

― ꒰ PAIRING: Lee Myung-gi x Reader! ꒱ ― ꒰SUMMARY: Your last relationship wasn't left on the best of terms. It was a small little fling, only lasting for five months. But the way he left was sudden and abrupt. He told you flat out that he wanted to end things, and that was that. Didn't give you any time to ask why, was it your fault? He had mentioned once or twice about his ex-girlfriend. But after making up this grand charade to your face you didn't expect to be the rebound. But in hindsight... you were. Now you are here, being told that you have an opportunity to abolish your debts. A hefty prize, an amount of money you've never seen in your entire life. This was the worst time to run into your jaded ex-boyfriend. But maybe he still had some room in his heart left for you. You weren't so gullible, fool me twice and whatnot. But him swooping in to stand up for you definitely made you feel those same old butterflies rise in your gut.꒱ ― ꒰WARNINGS: Honestly the biggest one I can think of is you and Myung-gi being messy. Like within the context of your prior relationship.. if that makes sense... yk? Start is kinda angsty!! Woops!! There's no violence (excluding regular squid game violence mentioned) but Thanos is Thanos!! No Jun-hee slander here folks. Mentions of Abortion (Jun-hee.) Consequences of Myung-gis actions with a somewhat happy ending!! yay!!! Like you two don't like reforge a whole relationship but no bad blood by the end of this..... wooo!!! Use of She/her pronouns once for reader. Also this is a tad bit long n may have spelling mistakes , woopsie...꒱ ― ꒰AUTHORS NOTE: Ohh no dw!! Yes ofc , here you go!! I really do hope you liked this!! I tried to stay as in character for Myung-gi as possible. He's very much a 50/50 character amongst fans. His actor's so funny and I honestly like his character. Like you envy him but you cant help but feel sympathy for him in moments. Crypto bro who I wanna dissect/look at under a microscope!! Also like... look at him... he's a cutiepatootie. He has his moments but like bro Jun-hee defender forever lmao. Also, I got this title from a beautiful song. It's by the band Ataquemos!! It's just so sweet and a generally warm song. I think it fits Myung-gis's motivations at heart. I tried to deliver on this as hard as I could, enjoy!!<3꒱

☓﹕You never thought you would see Myung-gi again. After your breakup, it all seemed a done deal. He hadn't truly explained his reasonings to you. About... splitting ties with you. I mean it was utterly absurd? Throughout your entire relationship, you always tried to do and be better than before. ☓﹕Always listening to his woes even if they were a little bit baffling for your tastes. What was his problem? You could tell he wasn't being entirely honest with you about everything. His past relationships, his history. But that was his business and not yours. But your breakup definitely surprised you out of left field.

☓﹕He wasn't answering your calls for a good week leading up to it. You were worried sick about him. Thinking that something terrible must've happened. You were so naive to his true intentions. When he finally answered your multiple texts and missed calls, he only followed with, "I'm sorry but I can't do this anymore. I loved you I really did. But I'm not in a well enough place to continue with this relationship. I hope you can understand. I'm breaking up with you and blocking this number. I'm sorry." ☓﹕The familiar sensation of your chest winding tight took over your entire body. Your hands began to tremble as you held your phone. No tears at the sight. But you were practically blown away. Ghosts you for a week and then break up with you over TEXT?! ☓﹕This was jarring beyond the humiliation and general grief you felt swelling inside of you. Did you mean that little to him? What was his fucking deal? He'd even met with your parents on a couple occasions. You at least thought you were serious enough for him to at least break up with you face to face.

☓﹕You didn't even bat an eye about the fact that he was a crypto-bro! Or, that he never truly got over his last relationship. I mean you at least never thought he did. Throughout your past committed relationships, you valued the honesty in partners about what their dating life had been like before meeting you. ☓﹕ It felt like their openness was full transparency, you know? Even if the relationships they had before meeting you were full-blown train wrecks. But Myung-gi was a whole different story from other previous partners. It was odd but again you never tried to pry at him. Were you truly in love or just blind with infatuation?

☓﹕It had been a month since he had cut you off from his life. It had been a month full of bitter spite and just... sorrow. The amount of loans you had taken out definitely started to pile up. You had teetered on the line too many times at work. Eventually losing your position after you accidentally blew up at a coworker. It didn't take you long for your debt to increase even more after that. ☓﹕With how bad the job market was you stayed unemployed for too long according to the bank. Job interviews weren't pulling through. You were practically drowning in unpaid loans and growing unpaid rent bills. Never were you a person to take handouts from friends or family. You were too stubborn for your own good. It was so isolating as your landlord continued to threaten to kick you out if you didn't have all that money in a week. If he was nice enough, he'd outstretch it to two.

☓﹕It was one humid evening when you were waiting for a train. That a man approached you. He looks clean-cut, a businessman-looking briefcase held in one hand. His faint eery smile didn't falter at all as he slid down right next to you. You had spent the afternoon visiting friends for once and running errands with what little you had. One headphone is looped and tucked around the left ear. Of course, you noticed him. He stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the middle-men office workers office workers, or the families trying to get home and escape from the summer heat.

☓﹕You kept your eyes straight ahead. "Pleasedon'ttrytoconvertme..." you repeated over and over again in your head. All you wanted to do was just rinse and repeat the same routine you had accumulated. The same pathetic routine you lived with ever since Myung-gi broke things off with you. But you were totally moved on now! It's been a month... that's a lot of time... right? ☓﹕ The sharply dressed man beside you broke your train of thought. Addressing you very formally, he offered you the opportunity to play a game. What game? , ddakji - for a cash prize every time you flipped his card to the opposite side. By the time you finally gave him an ounce of acknowledgment, most people had already gotten on their designated train. The station was empty and you still had awhile so why not? ☓﹕Shockingly you had won a majority of the rounds. Your arms shot up as soon as you saw his card flip over. He may have gotten one or two slaps in after you flat-out told him you had no more money on you to pay for your losses. "That's okay, you'll pay with your body.", excuse me? ☓﹕By the time he handed you the money he now owed you, he quickly started to latch up his briefcase. Trying to bring levity to the situation, he stopped you before you could get any other words in. From his pocket, he slipped out a card. A circle, triangle, and square on the front of it. Flipping it over it looked to be a phone number. Examining it with keen eyes you heard him mutter "Have a great rest of your evening." under his breath. Before you could thank him or do such a thing he was already gone. ☓﹕Vanished right before your eyes. Your head spun around, eyes landing on the now arriving train. Time to think about this and more once you finish your trek home.

☓﹕If it was only a little game, how hard could it be? You needed the help desperately. No matter how pathetic it was you called the number. Giving the unknown voice on the other end your name and birthday. Quickly and precisely they explained where and when you would be picked up. ☓﹕Seemed easy enough from your point of view. The place they referred you to was one of the largest shopping centers in Seoul. The time was way after the park's hours. It was odd but guaranteed a spacious and empty environment for the pickup to happen. As you listened you couldn't help but feel a low twisting in your gut. This felt wrong, not right at all. You were too far gone now. So you agreed to the terms and hung up the phone.

☓﹕The day finally arrived. You tried to get your assets in order. Told ones closest to you that you'd be busy due to a "new job offer." It was shocking how they all bought the lie. You just wanted to make a quick buck to lessen your debt, that's all. Your eyes flicked down to your phone as you clicked it on. The breeze rustled your hair. The home screen of your phone reads that it is finally midnight. You had gotten there earlier than told on the phone. ☓﹕Just to shake the impending nerves away. It felt like a bust because right on schedule, a van arrived. A masked man rolled down the window and stated your name. Your eyes widened as that pit feeling got deeper and deeper. The door of the van slid open and you slid inside the vehicle. Getting a feel for the van you right saw the slumped-down bodies beside you. Your throat tightened as you tried to find answers to your questions. Before you knew it heavy gas started to fill the backseat. The car whirred to life as you slowly collapsed, finally unconscious.

☓﹕By the time you awoke, you were met with the sounds of classical music and a bed. The metal squeaked gently as you sat up in the bunk bed where you lay. People who were dressed in similar attire as you, with numbers on their chests and backs littered the beds around you. Some were already starting to climb down and stand around on the main floor of the dormitory. Standing back, you were puzzled by where you now were. You were practically whisked away from your life on the outside. This wasn't disclosed in the phone call.

☓﹕Murmurs could be heard in the wide crowd of participants forming in the middle of the room. Others were scared of what this might entail, while some were dumbfounded by the swift change in scenery. The same masked men with different variations of their masks walked out, one outwardly greeting the bewildered players. Immediately as soon as they started taking questions, people kept on giving and giving. By now you had joined the crowd, standing more by the back wall of beds.

☓﹕All of a sudden your ears get all warm and irritated as soon as you hear a specific voice. The same voice of the guy who ripped your heart out and left it beating on the cold floor. Asking for his phone and wallet for market checking of all things? You were staring directly at the back of his head as he whined in annoyance. If it was anyone else, you would've been remorseful. These "guards", had stripped everyone of their personal belongings and usual clothes. But hearing that prick made your head get all hot and all rationality gets just as fuzzy.

☓﹕On the screen they displayed multiple of the players. Their individual names, and the debt amount they had to their name. Myung-gi's face flashed on screen with his hair mostly hidden with a bucket hat. Playing the same game you had when the recruiter found you in that subway. His face getting slapped, holding his cheek. You especially heard ringing in his ears when you heard he had CHARGES against him?

☓﹕During the time you had spent with him, he never once brought that up. Nor the crypto coin scam he ran on multiple people. Other player's faces followed after his. One person's debt reaching into the billions. But your head was spinning at the fact that maybe you didn't know your ex-boyfriend that well. You weren't judgemental of the fact that he dealt with cryptocurrency. Which was probably your biggest mistake. The rose-colored glasses were even more damaged now. Who really had you been dating for those five months?

☓﹕After the square guards' passionate but monotone speech, consent forms were immediately dished out. Four guards stood at each individual post. Handing participants pens to sign the contracts, the rules all in bold. Your number was somewhere in the middle of the large range of game participants. So let's just say you stood around in that line for a while. You didn't really take the time to strike up a conversation with anyone.

☓﹕An older woman, the same one who was arguing with her son earlier was behind you. She was kind enough to take the initiative. She seemed like a nurturing sweetheart. Her words were kind to you as she asked you why you were here and other small talk. It was the most sympathy you had heard from someone in a while. Finding the time to crack a grin of three as she commented "You look like a respectful kid." It was the most conversation you had... since you had gotten here.

☓﹕You two both discussed how this may work. The entire you mostly listened as she talked about how this all seemed "too bizarre for her tastes." You chuckled, cluelessly shrugging with a "We'll find out soon enough." Her son the entire time was trying to get his mom's attention. But she was determined to keep on talking to you. Until it was your turn to sign your signature. ☓﹕Glancing over the rules your head cocked to the side a little. Already here, it felt useless to back out. Leaving with nothing is worse than leaving with something. Readjusting your hold on the pen you quickly signed the contract. Gently placing the pen back down where it sat before, your mind now clear, you started to walk out and away from the four single-file lines. ☓﹕Until you heard a scuffle at the other side of the room. Chu Su-bong and another player were towering over another player. You don't realize who the victim was until you hear the purple-haired one rather loudly announce the name "MG Coin." You wanted to scoff at the cheesy name. Clearly, if those guys were picking a fight with Myung-gi they must've been the people who invested in the coin. ☓﹕You know what? , serves him right. Facing his comeuppance face-on and head-on. But you couldn't help but feel some odd form of pity as you watched Su-bong almost swing on "MG Coin." Thankfully the other player riled him down. The two walked off and the air in the room stayed as stale as it was before. Something inside of you was eager to approach Myung-gi. Before you could stop yourself your feet were already walking to where he was sitting.

☓﹕He looked so small and so pitiful. His head was in his hands as he rubbed his face. Your steps were precise as you walked towards him. Your arms were crossed as you looked him up and down. "Was I just some joke to you?" You sneered. As soon as he heard you his head shot up. Eyebrows creased and mouth agape. The last time he had spoken to you, he didn't expect you to be here of the sort at all.

☓﹕"What are you even doing here?" He whispered, trying to keep his volume to a low. Not to make another fool of himself again. "I should be asking what you're doing here? Oh wait, never mind, I know. Guess I was dating a criminal. I wasted a lot on you. Supporting you, listening to you, being an above-average decent human being for you? And you repay me by keeping me in the dark about something as big as this?" You snapped back at him. Not holding back any resentment that grew towards him during your mutual time apart.

☓﹕"It's not like that-" Your eyes went wide and your jaw fully dropped. "No, I think it is like that. You don't hide stuff like this from someone Myung-gi! What was I even to you? And by your actions.. clearly nothing." He couldn't stop the scoff escaping him, which just pissed you off even more. "Do you ever stop talking? Everything was always my fault when it came to you. But when I tried to explain myself you'd immediately patronize me." ☓﹕"Patrionize you?! You didn't tell me you were wanted by the authorities! For five months, I thought you were just struggling. That's why I helped you so much. That's why I practically let you live with me after a while-" The realization came to you. Was he just using you to hide from the cops? He put his hands up in between the two of you. "When I met you I was in a rock and an even harder place. I-I was trying to turn a new leaf... I had hurt so many people. But you took me in and I..." ☓﹕"And you what? Found an easy cash grab to live off of until you felt guilty enough in that bitter heart of yours?" Your words pierced every muscle in his body. "I loved you, you piece of shit. I loved you a lot. You met my parents! You saw the best of me. You are acting like our time together was nothing. I for sure thought it was something and guess you didn't feel the same." A sigh left you as you got everything out. Everything that started to slowly form after you got that text.

☓﹕"... Are you only here to scream at me? Right now, here? Gotten it out of your system?" His words were like an even deeper twist of the knife. He clearly could see on your face that his response was the incorrect thing to say. He tried to stammer out an apology but you were already backing away. "I'm here to revel in your misery. I've seen enough... good luck." ☓﹕Turning around you noticed a specific player in the sea of people looking at you. She was sitting by one of the bunks. A hand gently cradled her stomach. Her eyes looked glazed over with unshed tears. Her stare was icy and almost demeaning as you looked back at her. They told a story that you didn't quite understand, at least not now. Shrugging it off you went to go find a place to cool down before the first game.

☓﹕It was comical hearing what the first game was. A children's game you used to play with your classmates when you were young. Shouldn't be that off-putting on the outside. Definitely was more with the larger-than-life doll staring all four hundred and fifty-six players down from the finish line. An older man, the 456th player, immediately ran up before the games even started. Yelling that this wasn't just any ordinary game. That lives were at stake and the doll had motion sensor eyes?

☓﹕You definitely started to believe him along with many others once the first player died. One by one gunshots rang out. Bodies were either piled up at the entrances or littered across the sandy ground. People immediately changed their tune and began to run in a lot more of an ordered fashion. Because the doll would only pick up the first person's motions. In following the orders this stranger shouted you actually made it to the finish line. You shockingly made it out alive... only after the first game. ☓﹕After a good chunk of the players were left, everyone was escorted through that colorful maze of stairs back to the dormitory. People were practically cowering in fear and begging for mercy from the guards. The same stranger who had practically saved the lives of every remaining player urged for a vote to take place. Since it was in the forms and already promised, it had to be done. ☓﹕The bloodshed you saw was terrifying. People dropped like flies even if their hands were trembling. It was mortifying to see so up close. By the time your number was called you immediately felt a sense of determination. You weren't desperate enough to watch others lose their lives while participating in gruesome children's games. Nor did you want to die here and have no one you knew realize you died. You'd rather get your body stripped for parts.

☓﹕It wasn't shocking that Myung-gi went for the opposite side as you. You clearly barely knew the man, so anything made sense at this point. It was neck and neck, practically so close to having your side win. But one person broke that, and the opposing side ended up winning. Their cheers were met with broken hearts and people who had just lost a fraction of their hope. ☓﹕The air in the room was building with tension. As players were given food one by one by the circle guards, the entire time in line you could only think about one thing. The girl who was staring daggers into your soul. You didn't know if it truly was something to worry about. But hell you had a ton of time to kill. So you thought the best thing to do was to try and ask the million-dollar question.

☓﹕You slinked back to the side. Your eyes scan around the spacious area to look for her. You recognized the same head of the older woman you had conversed with. During the first game, you noticed that in a fleeting second, the two had conversed. It must've been something to do with that. Right away you started walking over. Her son giving you the perfect moment to approach player 222.

☓﹕She was eating her food, not noticing your steps. At least that's what it looked like. You gripped the water bottle in your hand. Clearing your throat, you two made eye contact. Her gaze was less hurtful. More hollow, as if she was yearning for something. But you had no idea what. Words were stuck in your throat, you were at a loss. ☓﹕"Can I help you...?" Her tone was cautious as she let her tin of food rest in her lap. Her arms were more closed, resting towards her side. You stammered out a "Here." Your hand offered up the water bottle. Her eyes looked at the hand, and then back to you. Almost as if she was waiting for you to finish your sentence.

☓﹕"I-I saw you earlier in the game ... I know it's impolite but it was all just me guessing I didn't mean to offend you-" You were surprised you weren't cartoonishly slipping on a banana peel here. Expecting her to cut you off, she still kept on staring back at you. "Thank you." She whispered as the palm of her hand opened. You immediately handed her the water bottle.

☓﹕The quiet was suffocating. Everyone's conversation and consumption drowned out your subconscious. "Are you Jun-hee?" You abruptly questioned her. She lost all the color in her face. Instead of responding to you verbally, she nodded her head as she stared down into her lap.

☓﹕You could easily connect the dots. Myung-gi had mentioned her by name once when you asked him about his previous partner. She was here, trying to win to make money for Myung-gis unborn child. You had lived five months blissfully unaware of this, of any of this. "Is that why you were watching me earlier?" You asked with a tremble of your lip. Repeating her prior action, she nodded her head. ☓﹕"Oh my god... I... I'm so sorry." Your words were a mess as your past relationship with this perfect guy broke apart. You had fit each other so perfectly. You didn't expect this behavior from him, how could you? Jun-hee was clearly holding in a lot. But she couldn't muster any anger. You clearly were clueless about his lies. By the way, your eyes went wide and your mouth parted, she couldn't stop herself from feeling pity for you. ☓﹕"When I told him, he originally wanted me to get rid of it. Said that we'd handle it." She spoke up as her tone of voice wavered. "I had already invested into that Dalmation coin and he was being hounded by the cops. By then I found out about its failure, he already left my life without another word. I decided that our child didn't have a father anymore and kept it. It's been six months."

☓﹕Anger burned in your chest. Jun-hee looked like a sweet girl. She was so beautiful, like a little button. You felt wronged and betrayed but also vengeful? She stopped you from thinking any harder. "I don't need him. So please do not feel bad for me. When he left he lost his chance. I tried too many times to be there for him, but he didn't try once for me. He's not a good guy."

☓﹕Your head lulled in recognition as you listened intently. "I-I seriously had no idea. He told me a whole other story." She simply shrugged at your response. "That sounds like Myung-gi." She remarked in a reserved way of speech. You couldn't help but crack a small laugh in defeat because it sure was him. ☓﹕You felt pure remorse running through your veins. You extended a vine of friendship to the poor girl. "I know we know each other for the worst of reasons. But... I hold only anger for that man. If you need anything or anyone, you have a friend in me Jun-hee." You lamented as your shoulders lost some of the tension they held before. ☓﹕She plastered a small but noticeable smile on her face. Either real or fake, you took it as a win either way. "I appreciate your kindness." She politely remarked as her head bowed at you, you did the same. "You are a good person. I hope we make it out together and can form a real friendship." That seemed to lighten her spirits. "I hope so as well." Her words were direct but her tone was soft and gentle. ☓﹕You were already bothering her enough. With a small wave of your hand to bid her farewell, you began to walk away. Opening up your tin of food you spent the next couple of hours picking at the once-enclosed meal. You were too stuck in the past. Every sweet moment you had with Myung-gi rotted and turned sour. The only things that gave you any ease at night were thinking back to your exchange with Jun-hee and the warm glow of all the prize money in the middle of the ceiling.

☓﹕The next morning came as a definite wake-up call. The same classical elegant tune blared over the speakers. You wished you could curl back into bed with the pillow muffling the repentant noise. But thanks to the system in place you were stuck here. People were quickly rising out of beds, no one really stopping to sit.

☓﹕Walking down to stand at your bed post you noticed two familiar figures conversing. Myung-gis bruised face and Jun-hees stern brow. You could remember the fight that broke out in the middle of the room, and the reason why he looked so beat up. The same purple-haired guy, Su-Bong beating down on him with the help of what looked to be his sort of right-hand man. Only until the same player who broke the vote count tie stepped in. Myung-gis and Jun-hees exchange didn't look pleasant but no time to focus on that. Guards were already walking in, ready to escort every current participant through the game hall.

☓﹕After making it through the long and winding staircases, you were brought into a large room. It almost resembled an elementary playground. With the bright colors and two rainbow roads, as well as the back walls resembling a sort of school structure. You were set to make teams of five with ten minutes on the clock. Nobody wasted any time in finding teammates. You were having a hard time locating one to join.

☓﹕Time was ticking down bit by bit. It felt more like five minutes to decide who to team with as you saw people right away strategizing. Your fingers danced at your sides as you cautiously walked around. You had gotten rejected from two groups. One because they were already full, with wishes of good luck as you walked away. The other one was because they were also full and you didn't have "the look." ☓﹕Suddenly you heard someone trying to get another person's attention. When you looked back you saw that someone was trying to get your attention. The same guy who was ready to beat Myung-gi to a pulp if he had the chance. The same guy who was pushing people over in the first game as if they were only dominos. He walked with pride as two men followed behind him, one of them the same person who was also beating up on Myung-gi. ☓﹕"Owww Senorita... you're too cute to be alone. Let's play this game together." He purred as he approached you. His arms were crossed and his chest was clearly puffed up. Player 124 clearly didn't look happy about this. Chewing at his inner cheek with an unpleased look on his face. Player 256 was clearly awe-struck with the guy, practically ready to kiss the ground he walked on. ☓﹕You would rather get gunned down than be stuck with this guy and his lackeys. It was a hefty gamble... that's why you never participated in the act. Besides he may get you killed in the next game, if not in this one. So you flashed on a polite but guarded expression. "Sorry but, I'm alright over here." Player 124 scoffed in relief as Su-Bongs head turned back, almost as if sending him a long and lengthy message only with a glare.

☓﹕"It's only you over here though. Come onnn... I'll protect you the whole game. You don't have to worry about anything when you are in the Thanos world. It's a pretty perfect deal." He smirked with confidence. On accident you let a sheepish laugh slip out. He took that as the initiative to push even harder on your buttons.

☓﹕"Whatever the game is I'll destroy anything that tries to tear us apart." He hummed with a boyishly sinister way of speech. You've denied him multiple times by now. Before another polite "no" could be added to that list, you looked up to notice Myung-gi. He was standing in between you and Thanos. His feet are firmly planted in the ground. The clock just now ticked past four minutes.

☓﹕"Ahhh MG Coin, I'm a little busy over here." Thanos snarked as he took a step back. Myung-gi huffed out a reply, "She said no man. So listen to that and go find two other people." By the way, Thanos's expression appeared; he thought this was humorful. "Are you looking to continue where we last left off, MG Coin? I think your purple and new red would look nice together." He replied with promise laced around every word. ☓﹕Myung-gi wasn't backing down and you were taken aback. His body guards Thanos from approaching close to you a step further. Why was he doing this? The clock on the wall took no pause for this. Clearly, this little confrontation was only wasting time. Thanos backed down but "took it to heart." He placed his hands on his chest in a quick heart rate motion. "You hurt my feelings MG Coin. Thanos never forgets." He emphasized his statement as he and the two other players walked away in the opposite direction.

☓﹕As as the three men leave out of sight he's already turning around to face you. "Are you okay?" His voice was signaturely dry but almost sweet. Outwardly trying to sound as apologetic as possible without saying it. You hadn't seen Myung-gi act like that in a while. It definitely made something in you stir. But you weren't going to say anything of that. He was met with a similar closed-off attitude he was met with by Jun-hee. This time with anger simmering beneath the surface. ☓﹕"Is that your way of apologizing?" You remarked with no remorse. "I-I do feel terrible about what I said. Please... I'll explain it to you after you join me." Your eyebrows creased, your expression reading like he had just dropped a bomb of news onto you. "You don't have a team and the people I partnered with - we need one more person... I'm begging you." His voice was finally filled with genuine emotion and emotion that wasn't him whining about problems he caused. ☓﹕"Fine." Your response was one note but that's all that he needed. He led you over to the group of older men. They were much more friendly faces than some of the participants you had to interact with. The game was finally introduced, more like the game and minigames were introduced. Right away, as soon as the monotone voice on the speakers was done explaining the ins and outs, you all started talking about what games would be your biggest strengths. ☓﹕Watching each team go up was like a game of chance. Either both teams would cross the finish line with triumph and hurrahs of joy and relief. One would have their moment in the spotlight of victory while the other would be mercilessly gunned down. Teams who didn't even make it past the second or third game would be shot without notice by the time the timer was done. You tried to stay as focused as you could, examining the surviving team's strategies for your group's potential success.

☓﹕By the time yours and Myung-gis's team went up, there was still a pretty size-able audience left of players. You kept your hands gripped into fists as a circle guard locked your ankles together. The previous rounds of gunfire from the guards still rang in your ears. But your top priority was to survive all five games and make it out of this one alive. You weren't going to die running around a rainbow road playing some small little minigames anytime soon, that was below you. The five of you felt that same momentum coursing through your veins , and then you were off.

☓﹕The sportsmanship that coursed through the crowd with previous teams was already heavy. But experiencing that yourself felt electrifying. Like the only time players who wanted to leave and those who wanted to stay felt truly equal. It was another asset that pushed you and your fellow teammates to finish every game with perfect precision. Your mind wasn’t focused on your potential demise when your turn arrived. The cheers made you focus on the task in front of you.

☓﹕It was with Myung-gis's final kick that your team made it. You made it with time to spare! Arms quickly locked together, each final step you and your teammates made was quick and firm. Everyone erupted with applause and cheers as your team jumped around with utter relief and joy. You had the freedom to walk out with your spirits still held, being led back to the dormitory by a couple of the guards. ☓﹕Making it back, there were only a few teams in there. You had recognized the same familiar face of the older woman. The same woman who was conversing with Jun-hee and one of the winning teams. Other groups of players were littered around in tight units. Only some looked back to the door to see who arrived back. ☓﹕ It was a lot more quieter now compared to before the second game began. This made sense since more five-player teams still had to compete and make it out alive. The door unlatched open and you were absorbed in the ambiance of whispers and emptiness. You gave gentle nods of recognition as your older teammates boasted about your combined success. You noticed how sullen Myung-gi was. ☓﹕Your stomach contorted as a deep sigh left you. "Hey." He heard you call out to him. You were walking directly behind him. He slowly spun around to face you. His eyes bore into the ground under the two of you. "I-I know I... I know I messed up. Especially with you and I am sorry." He looked up to face you. But you were trying to guide him away to a more secluded area of the multiple bunks. He followed you like a lost puppy. ☓﹕You sat down on the edge of a random bunk, the metal under you squeaking at the sudden pressure. He sat down right beside you, arms hanging low in his lap. You looked to him as to give him the room to speak, to "explain himself." You could hear how tight his chest was while he spoke. Bursts of air left his upper frame at every grating word that left his mouth. ☓﹕"When I met you... I was a mess." Your head lulled in a nod as a sign for him to continue. "I had hurt so many people, so many people I once held close to me. But you didn't know who I was. You looked at me like... no one else had. You were someone who still thought of me with some respect. I-I didn't want to ruin the image you had of me so I was a coward and hid that from you." A shaky chuckle left him. His words were so warm, they reminded you of the good times you two shared together. But you were past feeling pity for him, it was more so guilt now. Guilt for a relationship built on falsities that you participated in. ☓﹕Your head turned in his general direction. But your eyes didn't meet him. "Were you using me?", you bluntly asked. "No... I took the help you offered me. I was happy with you-" Your eyes began to water. "I know about Jun-hee." He almost looked surprised as the two of you locked eyes. "... I didn't know about it. I didn't know she kept it." A sheepish chuckle left you as you wiped away falling tears from your eyes. Dribbling down your cheeks, staining them with your constant reminder of turmoil. You didn't want to cry in front of him, but he noticed. ☓﹕"My life was falling apart. I had people out there who wanted to see me hang for what I had done. Which ... wasn't entirely my fault if you think about it. I met you and you closed up all my wounds. You didn't look at me with shame so many others did. I finally felt good about myself for once in a very long time. But then my feelings just grew too complicated. I didn't want to pop our little bubble.. so... I ran away." ☓﹕"You're an asshole." Your words had so much emotion in them. But he couldn't help himself. "I know I am. I regret the times I could have been better... for you." A long and lengthy pause for silence grew in between the two of you. You rubbed your eyes as you thought of whatever you could say next. You were too tired to argue with him. "Do you promise me that if you make it out of this alive, with her, you'll be a better man..?" It was a dumb question to ask of him. Could men like Myung-gi ever change?

☓﹕"Yes. One hundred times yes." He nodded his head adamantly. Your expression was bittersweet. Your head lulled in a nod one more time before you just sat there with him. He turned his head away from your direction. Staring down into the floor, the silence shared between the two of you was almost comforting. It was a familiar sort of ember that burned in the coldness that was your entire relationship. -> "I hate your guts." He smiled, hearing an emotion that wasn't resentment in your voice. "You have every right to."

― ꒰AUTHORS NOTE: Aghhh I know this one was really angsty I'm sorry!! Guys, I love angst can you tell? The idea seemed so somber like u 2 r so tragic it’s aghhhhhh. I really hope this was an enjoyable read. If you’re interested in sending me a request , check out my currently pinned post<3 Ly all , byeee!!! ( ^ . . ^ )

[millieisawriter]

okay guys <33 requests keep coming in (just got one for arthur/dutch x brothel worker reader,) and i love that but for some reason (i'm still a lil sick, woke up with a terrible headache) writing has been going slow :( so! not wanting to leave y'all dry i've prepared something like this :)

headcannons: RDR2 men as dads

including: arthur, javier, charles, sean, lenny

Arthur Morgan

considering his past experiences, he'd feel so grateful to have another chance at having family

this time he would leave the outlaw life for his family, now he knows being two things at once, a criminal and a good father, doesn't work

tries to watch his language around the kid, and succeeds most of the time

the most protective dad ever, like he'd fr team up with the kid against you even if you're trying to scold the kid for something she/he did

when i say protective i mean it – if the kid coughs he's rushing her/him to the nearest doctor

he sucks at fishing, but he would take the kid fishing if she/he likes it

if the kid wants a dog, arthur is getting a dog for her/him immediately

would let the kid doodle in his journal

bedtime stories for the kid that are literally about the gang's past, excluding the darker parts of the story

Javier Escuella

writes his own lullabies for the kid

encourages any form of creativity like playing an instrument, singing, dancing

his kid would be the best dressed kid around, he's always getting the prettiest clothes for her/him and teaching about the importance of a clean appearance

but the kid would think it's extremely funny to run from him whenever he's trying to get them to wear a new shiny pair of boots, they just love to rebel against him

tries to watch his language around the kid, nearly failing often like "mierrrr–coles"

the kid would think spanish is harder than english, so whenever javier tried to teach her/him his language, the kid would get frustrated at some point and just scream gibberish

then javier would pick random days where he speaks only spanish to the kid. she/he might be reluctant to answer in spanish, but she/he understands the language well. however, javier will NOT reply until the kid speaks spanish

Charles Smith

teaching the kid about how important it is to respect the nature and the land

would make any toy the kid asks for by hand

i think that's obvious, but he would take the kid hunting when they're old enough

teaching the kid to take care of injured animals, that's how a rabbit ended up living in the house ("temporarily" at first)

would be so happy to let the kid braid his hair or put flowers in it, or if the kid made a flowercrown for him

most calm dad ever, he never gets angry at his kid. he doesn't even need to yell, one look is enough for the kid to stop whatever nonsense they're doing

doesn't panic as long as the kid isn't in a lot of pain. like maybe the kid will fall or get a scrape or a little cut, and charles would be just like "you're fine, walk it off" but he'd say it gently

good at playing hide and seek, many times the kid would just give up searching for him or throw a tantrum because charles found her/him so quick

Sean MacGuire

terrible influence, you couldn't have picked a worse father for your kids

doesn't bother to watch his language around the kid at all, so even if the kid doesn't pick up his accent, they would swear in sean's irish accent

allows his kid to stay up late, eat sweets instead of a normal meal, encourages mischevious behavior

would teach the kid to gamble

his kid is literally his partner in crime, sean would teach her/him how to silently steal from people's pockets or how to pick a lock

getting a mannequin, putting a jacket with many pockets on it, wrapping it in things that make noise like little bells on a string, and telling the kid to pickpocket it without making any noise

the kind of dad that will purposely do something to embarrass his kid in public, but would also brag about his kid

would offer a sip of beer to his kid a few times because "that's not even real alcohol!" but you quickly smack the idea out of his head

neither sean nor his kid are allowed around matches after a small incident that involved matches and hay

Lenny Summers

would make sure his kid is well-spoken and understands the importance of education

takes the kid for trips to a nearby bookstore

at first the kid didn't like reading much, feeling like lenny pressures them too much into it, but eventually they started enjoying books

would raise the kindest, gentlest, most obedient kid ever, the kind of kid that never talks back to the parents

yet still he'd also teach the kid to stand up for themselves when someone would try to push them around

IF the kid did something wrong, lenny would pull up with "I'm not mad, I'm disappointed"

would never fall into the loop of "why" questions, because his answers would be so long and detailed the kid would just give up

[bugsbenefit]

who's getting books and who isn't?

tells you a lot actually

in lieu of us getting a Dustin companion book soon i'm doubling down on my point about how insanely telling these books are about where the story is going. especially if you look as who is getting books. and i'm saying this both about El and Will (where it's already kind of obvious why s5 is important for them) as well as Mike (where it's also kind of obvious why s5 is important for his character but it hasn't reached mainstream awareness yet apparently lmao)

as of now Lucas, Max, and Dustin (about to come out), as well as Robin and Eddie, and even Hopper and Terry have one. and they all explore things outside of the main canon by doubling down on what filmed canon already established and adding a bit more layers since they have the time to focus on a single character (like exploring racism and how Lucas deals with it in his book, something the show doesn't dwell on, or exploring Robin's queerness, taking place before the events of s3)

and the focus these books have makes sense since they're mostly written by commissioned writers. so obviously they want to skirt any topics that delve too much into plot heavy areas where the writers a) wouldn't know where the story is going or b) even if they got notes, you don't want important lore drops that impact the later story dropped in companion books

in short we're getting extra story's about no spoilery topics the main story doesn't have time to/want to explore

which makes it all the more interesting we're already getting books about someone like Robin when you know if you asked fans what povs they'd like to see someone like El would rank significantly higher if you trust favourite character rankings. but for some reason El, Mike, and Will have never gotten one

and some of these reasons are just really obvious, especially when it comes to El and Will

1) they obviously can't just drop a book on El yet. on one hand, because her backstory with the lab is a major plot point of the show and they can't spoil it in a book (even if they tried excluding it, writing 200ish pages for a character who can't remember what happened before they turned like 8 is one of those things that would be kind of hard to avoid coming up). even post s4 there's still so many questions about her past and time at the lab, they just shouldn't give unlimited access to her inner monologue about it yet. and on the other hand, El finding her place in the world is quite literally one of her characters main recurring motives, even a companion book as innocuous as "El tries out hobbies" would be exploring something we'd kind of want to see on screen since it'd be a resolution to her character growth and not a fun side quest

2) they also just can't drop a book on Will. the fact that we never found out what actually happened to Will in the UD is already reason enough, the show clearly wants to explore it on screen later on. (now even more obvious since there's already confirmed s1 UD Will in the s5 official teasers). you really can't write a book from someone's pov who's main trauma and life changing moment is something you don't want to get into yet. just doesn't work

there's plot points the show obviously saved for later so both Will and El are pretty unfit as book topics

but with Mike that doesn't actually apply in the same obvious way. Mike not getting a book despite being the leader of the party, having the most on screen defined dynamics with the other kids, and being part of the shows "main" ship would be really odd. like. Really odd. on paper he'd probably be one of the first choices for an easy book protagonist for a fun party side quest. of course unless one of the two book deal breaker reasons applies also:

they can't give his pov because giving his unfiltered inner monologue would spoil s5

they want to explore something relevant to his character themselves on screen and it's not fit for a companion book

but again, in comparison to Will and El where the why is really obvious Mike sticks out because we don't officially know what he's got going on yet. he has no mysterious absence where we don't know what happened to him like with Will and no open ended origin story like with El

it just makes it a bit funnier to me how many people are still fundamentally unconvinced Mike has something going on that's important for the outcome of s5. post s2 the show tries to get some distance from Mike's head and he's joined the club of main characters who don't get books alongside major canon event magnets El and Will. and yeah, obviously you wouldn't want a book from the characters pov who's feelings and sexuality you're actively hiding. it's also a bit of a no brainer you don't want a companion work going into how he's not been doing so great over the past few years because the reasons for that are kind of relevant to the main story. Mike feeling guilty for El dying all the way in s1 is something that might be more fit to bring up in show when their relationship is being addressed instead of in side material

but all in all? the fact that out of all the kids El, Mike, and Will are the only ones who don't get secondary material yet is probably the biggest give away that the three of them are who s5 is planning to give the most insight on even all the in show build up aside. they're being skipped as book povs despite existing public interest and seeming like conventionally easy picks for book side stories

in the current economy around shows franchises, going against what'd be a good marketing decision is always a dead giveaway something is going on

[halfvalid]

Hey! I was wondering if you could do a live action Zoro smut where it's enemies to lovers (boy X girl). I don't mind how hardcore smut (18+?) but I would love if there was some tension (argument or fight!) 😁

speak teeth

ABOUT

| 18+ | smut | explicit |

alternate title: i need the lord

rating: explicit

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.9k

description: you and zoro have never gotten along. after a incident in town escaping from marines, you resolve to sort out your issues with unconventional means. (aka sex.)

tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, enemies to lovers, except it's more like frenemies to frenemies with benefits, kissing, kiss to distract trope, no use of “y/n��, reader calls zoro "roronoa", penis in vagina sex, creampie, pwp, cowgirl position

author’s note: thanks for the request! i kind of lost the plot on this one because i'm terrible at writing enemies-to-lovers and there's not much 'lovers' involved in this since i couldn't exactly fit that into a oneshot. hopefully you still like it anyway? i tried my best.

tags make it seem so much worse than it actually is.

Roronoa Zoro did not like you. 

The feeling was mutual, so you didn’t mind the fact, really. Zoro was annoying, with his three swords, and that stupid low voice, and how he never seemed interested in conversation unless it was either about alcohol or beating someone up. You were undoubtedly annoying to him for various reasons not so different in number to your own grievances of his personality. You two didn’t like each other. It was fine. It was normal. 

It was pissing off the rest of the Straw Hat crew. 

In your defense, you were never outwardly aggressive towards the man. You didn’t purposely exclude him from conversations or avoid looking at him if he dared haunt a room you were in with his presence. You just… didn’t speak to him unless spoken to. And maybe you had a tendency to roll your eyes or mutter some insults when he was talking, but it wasn’t that big of an issue. 

Zoro, on the other hand, was a master of discord. He’d killed and hunted so many people it only made sense for him to be, but it seemed he hadn’t skipped his lessons in petty fights either. Because he was bullheaded and a buzzkill and always opened his big mouth when you were around. Those sarcastic remarks of his were common, sure, but when you were in the room they were tenfold and laced with genuine venom. 

You weren’t sure who’d even started the strife between you two. It had been so long that you’d forgotten. While everyone else had seemingly bonded after your journey together, you and Zoro remained firmly in the stage you’d been while trapped in Buggy’s green room—antagonistic. Obviously you didn’t hate each other—when Zoro had nearly died to Mihawk, you hadn’t been happy—but you didn’t get along, and both of you were just fine with that arrangement. 

Nobody else was, though.

And so obviously you didn’t like it when Luffy announced, as you were docked, that you were assigned to scout the surrounding village together. Your lips twisted, but you refrained from saying anything up until Luffy finished his speech with: “And that’s the plan! Any objections?” 

There were head shakes from all around the deck of the Going Merry. You eyed Zoro in the very corner—his arms were crossed, and carefully he raised a hand, just barely lifting it into the air as he motioned. “Why is she coming with me?” 

You bit your tongue, suppressing the irritated sigh that threatened to escape. “Because,” Luffy said, bright as ever, “You two need to learn how to be friends. Think of it as a bonding activity!” 

“I’d really rather go with Sanji,” you optioned, trying to be more civil than Zoro at least. “He could use a hand carrying the stock barrels.” 

“Nope,” Luffy chirped. “It makes most sense for the two of you to be the one to buy the weapons, anyway.” 

“He’s right. You both are the most knowledgeable on the subject,” Nami whispered, though she gave you an apologetic look. You sighed. Zoro opted to say nothing. 

“Fine. Let’s go, Roronoa,” you said, getting up off the Going Merry’s railing to start walking off the ship. You heard Zoro grumble from behind you, but he soon caught up. You said absolutely nothing to each other for the first few minutes of walking, keeping to yourselves until you eventually reached the market. 

“What kind of weapons are we looking for?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at the man who trailed just barely behind you. “I know Luffy wants backups, but did he say specifically what?” 

“Probably a few guns, maybe some swords,” Zoro replied. “A katana for me. Extra staff for Nami, in case hers breaks.” 

“Right. Nami gave me five-hundred thousand berry. Let’s spend it wisely. No pit stops.” 

Zoro gave you a look. “It’s not like I’m going to slip into the nearest tavern and abandon you. Luffy said we go together, so we go together.” 

“Right.” You turned away so you could roll your eyes in private. You had to appreciate that, at least; Zoro’s loyalty to Luffy at least meant he wouldn’t be a bitch to you if Luffy told him not to, and Nami kept you more or less under wraps too. “Pistols first. Let’s just get two, and save the rest for a sword because those are more pricey.” 

Focusing on business was fine. You could be a responsible adult and not be petty. And it really did go okay for the first half-hour, wherein you bartered one of the weapons sellers down to a reasonable price for two pistols and also picked up a bo staff on the way.

You were just heading towards another district of the town when Zoro slowed to a stop. You glanced over to see what he was looking at—a wall pasted with bounty posters, various pirates plastered on paper with big numbers shouting out their worth. 

“Look, it’s Luffy,” you said, eyes catching a bundle of posters near the top. Sure enough, all six members of the Straw Hat crew were there. You noticed with distaste that Zoro’s bounty was higher than yours.

Zoro tore all of the posters off, and you were almost surprised when he took yours off too. He crumpled them up into balls, about to toss them behind his shoulder before you grabbed them, carefully tucking them away in your bag. “What’s that for?” he asked. 

“So I can shoot darts at your face,” you replied. “Come on. Should finish and get back to the ship before anyone recognizes us.” 

Zoro shrugged, but followed you as you led him to the closest armory you could find. The shop was small and rickety, and a silver bell announced your presence as you entered the building. There were blades of every kind in the shop; you could see a table of knives and daggers, along with a stand full of long swords by the front. Near the back, you glimpsed some hanging rapiers, and—

“Katanas,” Zoro muttered, pushing past you to slip to the back of the store. You sighed, but followed, glancing over the array of jians instead. Zoro was already picking one up and pulling it out of its sheath, checking the quality of the blade. 

“Don’t—” you hissed, and he glanced up at you, brow raised in question as he spun the blade around in his hand. “You’re going to knock something over.” 

Zoro sheathed the sword, a satisfying click filling the room with the motion. “Calm down.” 

“I am calm,” you snapped. “If you’d just stop stomping around with those big boots of yours, though—” 

Zoro looked far less affected by the entire ordeal than you did, and that pissed you off even more. Logically, you knew he didn’t show much emotion in general, and even his annoyances tended to be deep and quiet—but still. He strung the katana back up where it belonged. “I am not stomping.” 

“Yes, you are—” You cut yourself off as the bell of the store rang again, announcing the arrival of more patrons. These two were whispering to each other, gruff voices that sounded almost scared. “He came in here, right?” One of them asked the other. “Are you sure it’s him?” 

“He tore down his own wanted poster!” The other hissed back. 

You caught onto what was happening quickly, letting a sigh out from between your teeth and grabbing onto Zoro’s arm to yank him further back into the store. You turned a corner, where a narrow hall cut off at a dead end, a wardrobe of swords blocking off the area to any prying eyes. “Now look at what you did,” you grumbled, before you could stop yourself. “You’ve got fucking bounty hunters after us.” You glanced through the stands of swords for a double take—the pair were standing at the front, outfitted in familiar white-and-blue uniforms. “Scratch that, even worse. Marines.” 

“I can take them in a fight,” Zoro muttered, hand going to his swords. You grabbed his wrist and gave him a look. 

“No. We’re not due to leave the docks for another two days,” you snapped. “Can you figure out a way to get out of a situation without stabbing someone?” 

“How can you be sure it was him, though? The Demon?” The more timid marine asked. They’d started moving, and you shoved Zoro into the corner, attempting to hide his ridiculously broad figure with an armoire of weapons. He scoffed, but made no move to adjust, back flat against the wall.

“He had the three swords. And the three earrings, too. Of course it was him,” the other one replied. You rolled your eyes. 

“Ever try being a little less obvious, Roronoa?” you muttered, shooting another glare in Zoro’s direction. “You’re like a flashing red light for every marine within a two-mile radius with your stupid swords. I’m Roronoa Zoro, the pirate hunter!” 

“I don’t hear you yelling at Luffy to take his hat off,” Zoro hissed back. 

“They’re coming this way,” you answered, entirely ignoring his retort. “Hide your stupid swords. Shove them behind a stand or something.” 

“I don’t see why we can’t just—” 

“No fighting.” You swiveled around, tugging his holsters off his belt and tossing the swords behind him with a graceless clatter. Zoro just sighed. “Shit,” you muttered as the marines turned at the noise, starting to move towards the back of the store.

“Now look at what you did,” Zoro mumbled, mocking your words straight back at you. You glared at him. 

“Shut up and stay put,” you snapped. “Let me think of something.” The marines were coming closer, and you huffed out a nervous breath. Zoro watched you from his position. 

“They know your face, too,” he said carefully. Almost derisively, like he was looking down on your idea; making you seem stupid. “Just let me fight them. It makes the most sense.” The footsteps grew louder, then, the marines moving towards the back of the store. 

“I think I heard voices,” one of them muttered to the other. You shushed Zoro, unconsciously moving closer to him until your arm bumped into his. You startled, and then looked up, finding Zoro’s chest just inches away from your face. 

“Is this some new sort of hiding tactic?” Zoro asked, voice dry as a desert. “Are you trying to melt us into the wall—” 

The voices tapered off as the marines moved closer. Your hand shot up to cradle Zoro’s face, covering his dangling gold earrings with your fingers to hide them away. “Fuck this,” Zoro muttered, leaning back to pick up his swords. You shushed him, and he stopped, bent halfway over you so your faces were just inches apart. 

“Just trust me,” you snapped. Zoro opened his mouth to argue, but then the marines’ footsteps got louder—they’d turn the corner any moment now. 

“Fine,” he breathed. “But if it doesn’t work, I’m taking out my swords.” 

Your mind ran a million miles a minute trying to figure out what to do. The marines were just around the corner now, and your breath caught, eyes meeting Zoro’s as you wracked your brain for something, anything that might distract the marines away from the two of you. Zoro’s lips parted, a split-second away from undoubtedly whispering some grand insult when the marines finally turned the corner.

You were kissing Zoro before you could even think. 

“Oh,” one of the marines said, as your fingers nearly pinched Zoro’s earlobe, still covering his earrings. Zoro was frozen for a moment, but the marines behind you seemed startled enough that he realized it was working. A rush of satisfaction filled you for a moment—see, Roronoa, you don’t have to stab shit all the time—before Zoro was kissing you back.

And. Well. You’d started it, but you had not anticipated this. 

Zoro was almost rough, his hand curling around the nape of your neck and tugging you down closer to him. His other hand came to rest on your waist, so impossibly big around your torso that you shivered. What had started out as a simple kiss slipped into one all messy, your breaths coming out in sharp gasps as Zoro barely gave you a moment to breathe. 

His teeth dug into your lip, and you groaned into his mouth, tongue darting along his gums with the motion. He snickered at that, and you felt a little bundle of vexation starting at the pit of stomach at the sound. You ran your tongue into the crevices of his mouth, licking into him with ease. Another rush of satisfaction filled you as Zoro’s grip tightened on your waist. You were winning.

He fought back just as hard, practically merciless as his tongue slid against yours, prying into your mouth like he was trying to bare you empty of secrets. You felt stripped raw like this, but it wasn’t a terrible feeling—the opposite, actually, soft whimpers leaving your lungs as he dug more fiercely into you. Zoro sucked on your lower lip with teeth, and you barely managed to suppress the stuttered sound it tugged out from the back of your throat. 

There were hasty footsteps receding somewhere behind you, which was the only sound that snapped you out of your motions. You were the first to break away—another score gained there—glancing over your shoulder to ensure the marines had really left before fully detaching yourself from Zoro. The silver bell rung again, signaling the marines had made their exit, and you let out a relieved sigh. 

Zoro glanced over your shoulder, straightening his clothes as his tongue ran along his top teeth. The top teeth you’d had your tongue on just seconds ago. “If you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just said so.” 

“I did not—” You sucked in a breath, all your general irritated feelings towards the man coming back at full force with just that one sentence. “Shut the fuck up. I got us out of the situation, didn’t I?” 

“You have questionable methods,” Zoro replied, leaning over to pick up his abandoned swords and strap them back along his hip. “Don’t think about that all night.” 

“You were not that good of a kisser,” you snapped, though you could feel your face getting hot. Your mouth tingled, like you could still taste him on your tongue; on your teeth; in your gums. There was a vaguely empty sensation at the curve of your waist you tried your best to ignore. “Don’t be so full of yourself. Roronoa. Now pick a sword to buy so we can leave already.”

Zoro seemed irritated, but he complied, brushing past you to inspect a few more of the swords before picking out one. You paid for it as quickly as possible, in a rush to get back to the ship; not even trying to talk the salesman down from his price like you usually would. 

Zoro followed you languidly, absolutely nothing urgent about his motions as you trailed after you back through the village. You wanted to uppercut him so badly. 

“Oh, there you guys are,” Usopp said upon stepping foot back onto the Going Merry. You shot him an apologetic smile before breezing past, beelining for your bedroom without a second thought. “Uh—okay! You good?” he called after you, but you were too far away to respond at this point. 

You slammed the door of your room shut upon entering, heaving out a breath of jumbled emotion all in one go. Fuck Roronoa Zoro and his three stupid swords and his three stupid earrings. He was the most lumbering, bullheaded oaf you’d ever had the displeasure of engaging with. 

He’d been a ridiculously good kisser. Now you hated him even more. 

You locked yourself in your room for the next four hours, busying yourself with various tasks whilst simultaneously seething over Zoro. It wasn’t even that he’d done anything specifically to you in the past. You just—didn’t get along, really. He was irritating, and stupid, and always tried to solve his problems with a blade rather than attempting to use his wits. Not that he had any wits of any kind. He was—

He was, as you were starting to find out, kind of attractive. Which. Okay. You’d known his face was at least easy on the eyes, despite his personality and general attitude not retaining the same qualities. But this was an entirely unappreciated development. 

Someone knocked on your door, snapping you out of your irritated haze. The sun had nearly set, a kiss of dusk coming in from outside as you shuffled over to the door. You yanked it open. “What—”

Zoro was standing in the doorway, arm propped against the side and keeping your door open even as you attempted to close it on him. “Roronoa.” 

“You’re hiding,” Zoro said, a tinge of mirth just barely visible in his eyes. You glared at him. 

“I am not.” 

“Do you have to disagree with everything I say?” Zoro asked. He was still wearing his swords even now, though he’d dressed down as the hour grew late. “You skipped dinner.” 

“Leave me alone,” you muttered. 

Zoro took that as an invitation to step fully into the room. “I told the rest of the crew about the marines,” he said, and you flinched. “Not about that. Just that we got away. Nami wants to leave tomorrow evening now, so we’ll be busy.” 

You stared at him, suspicious right from the start. “And you care enough to tell me? Did someone put you up to this?” 

Zoro stiffened. “I just thought you might want to know.” 

Your eyes narrowed. He looked as normal as ever—face blank, leaving no expression to be seen. But his muscles were tenser than usual, and the veins running up his arm were prominent, like his hand was tightened into a fist where it hid away in his pocket. “You have ulterior motives.”

“You’re so annoying,” Zoro muttered, but he didn’t budge. You scoffed. 

“What, are you here to admit that you were wrong and my plan really did get us away from the marines?” you asked, voice sugary sweet as you riled him up. His jaw clenched, a vein tracing up his neck bulging with the pressure. “You don’t need to inflate my ego—”

Zoro moved across the room swiftly, and you stumbled back in surprise as he pinned you to the wall, hand tight around your arm. Your words died in your throat as his lips sealed over yours with a bruising kiss. His fingers dug into the skin of your bicep—tight, but not tight enough to hurt. 

“I don’t need to inflate your ego,” Zoro snapped, finishing your sentence from where it’d died on your lips. “You do that enough yourself.” 

You stared at him, the tingle of his lips still left as an afterthought on your mouth. “If you’re going to make out with me, take your fucking swords off.” 

Zoro barely suppressed an eye roll, hands working at his belt to slide his holsters off from his hip. “What’s your problem with them?” 

“I think your emotional dependency on a bunch of oversized butter knifes—”

Zoro’s head jerked up, eyes dark when they met yours. “Don’t call them that.” 

You couldn’t resist the quip off your tongue. “You asked.” 

Zoro slowly made his way across the room again, steps careful and languid as he moved closer. “I take it back,” he said, voice a near whisper, every word crisp on his tongue. You shivered. 

This time, you expected it when he kissed you. He wasn’t careful with it, and you didn’t want it any other way—your arms wrapped around the back of his neck, tugging him down closer to you. It got aggressive quick, his fingers coming down to clutch your waist, one of your hands tight around the locks of his hair as you pried open his mouth with your tongue. 

Neither of you complied easily, both trying to get the better of the other. Zoro’s tongue forced itself into your mouth before you tugged on his lower lip with teeth. Both his hands came to wrap around your waist, now, hoisting you up and onto your hanging bed in the center of the room. His fingers dug in hard enough to leave bruises. 

Zoro abandoned your mouth in favor of your neck, biting open-mouthed kisses into your jawline before moving down your jugular. Each one was more hasty than the last, wet and warm with licks of tongue and scrapes of teeth. You didn’t bother moving to give him better access—he had to do that himself, a large hand coming to rest on the back of your skull and pulling your head back to bare the rest of your neck to him. You heard him mutter something in Japanese—probably some obscenity, which pleased you more than you’d like to admit. 

His kisses stopped at the hinge of your neck and shoulder, Zoro pausing to lean over and work his fingers up your spine. They danced over the clasp of your shirt, and you had to choke back a wry laugh, surprised. “I thought the Demon just took what he wanted,” you murmured. 

Zoro didn’t seem to like that. He started unfastening the buttons going down the back of your top. “At least I was polite enough to ask,” he muttered. 

“Just take my clothes off already,” you said, and he stopped his work, leaning back to glare into your eyes. You let out an annoyed sigh, and he rolled his eyes, going back to what he’d been doing. “Are we going to talk about it?” you asked, eyeing Zoro’s chest in front of you. 

You pressed a kiss to his neck, sucking at the skin before grazing it ever-so-slightly with your teeth. His throat hitched under your mouth. 

“Nope,” he grunted, finally unclasping the last button and pulling your top over your head. Since you didn’t have an issue with that arrangement, you didn’t say anything, even as Zoro practically shoved you flat on your back. 

“Rude,” you muttered. Zoro didn’t bother apologizing; he just leaned down to take your breast in his mouth, tongue circling around your nipple. You weren’t fast enough to suppress your gasp this time—a point in Zoro’s favor then, one you allowed with a bitter taste on your tongue. Zoro’s mouth formed a smile against your skin. You brought your knee up between his legs, shoving into his crotch in retaliation. 

“Stop,” Zoro hissed, the consonants of the words brushing across your skin when he spoke. You ignored him, and he let out a groan, hand clamping around your thigh to keep you from moving. “Do you have to be such a brat?” 

“I am not a brat.” You hooked your ankle around his, causing him to slip from where he lay suspended above you, mouths mashing in another too-aggressive facsimile of a kiss. “You’re just a gigantic manwhore with an overinflated ego.” 

“You did not just call me—” You shut him up with another kiss, teeth digging deep into the inner gums of his lip. You ran your hands up the sides of Zoro’s figure, trying your hardest to ignore the stiff muscles of his ribcage. He wasn’t that well-built. He wasn’t even that attractive, you tried to convince yourself. Still, you found the buttons of his shirt, trying to unfasten them quicker than Zoro had with yours. 

One of them caught, and Zoro had the audacity to laugh. You grumbled something incoherent under your breath, tugging his shirt off all the way and tossing it somewhere behind you. “Shut up.” 

“You’ve been the one complaining this entire time,” Zoro replied easily. He leaned down, tugging at your trousers to pull them off, pressing sloppy kisses down your torso now. You resisted the urge to say something in response, knowing it would just give him the satisfaction of being right. Were your points tied now? You couldn’t remember. 

Zoro had pulled your pants down to your knees by now, and you kicked them off all the way, watching as he pushed them off the bed and leaned down to work at the inward slope of your hip. You shivered, legs trembling as you felt your core grow tight, the cloth of your underwear already wet with anticipation. Seeing the ever-steadying tent in Zoro’s pants made you feel just a little bit better, and you were nice enough to let a stuttering moan out as his tongue licked down to the band of your panties. 

He pulled your underwear all the way off, then, but to your distaste completely ignored your fully exposed core to unbutton his own pants instead. “I hate you,” you muttered. 

Zoro stopped in the middle of what he was doing, pants halfway down his thighs and length already out. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, voice careful—you could still hear the mocking tone beyond the coolness of his voice, though, and your jaw clenched in irritation. “Did you want something?” 

“Yeah, for you to shut the fuck up.” You pushed yourself up by the elbows, grabbing one of Zoro’s arms and yanking him down onto the mattress. You used both hands to strip him of the last of his clothes—God, his legs were long—before returning to press your own open-mouthed bruises along his neck. His hips bucked up against yours, insistently chasing any friction, but you tightened a grip on his thigh to get him to stop. “Give me a second.” 

“I don’t like that I’m suddenly under you,” Zoro said drily, and you could feel the words as they formed in his throat, still biting hickeys into his skin. You rolled your eyes, lips disconnecting from skin with a dull pop.

“Deal with it, Roronoa. I’m not moving.” With that, you finally reached down to coax his legs apart, hovering your core over his hips as you lined your entrance up with his length. 

There was an audible hitch of breath on Zoro’s part as you sunk onto him. Point. 

One of his hands tangled in your hair when you started moving, the other coming to press on the small of your back as you worked yourself up and down around him. For the complaining he’d done about the position, he didn’t seem so bothered about it, pulling you into a rough kiss. 

You bit back with force, breath escaping you as your hips bucked against Zoro’s. The wet pool in your lower belly only grew stronger with every thrust, pressure building up inside of you as Zoro’s tongue ran across your teeth. You moaned freely now, too lost in the daze of your pleasure to remember to be annoying. Evidently Zoro felt the same way—he swallowed every one of your gasps up, grunting as you pulsed around him.

Your hips stuttered, thigh muscles contracting with the effort as you clenched down on Zoro. Still, you pushed through even as your muscles started to tire, encouraged by the deep, throaty sounds that escaped Zoro's lips between each kiss. He was big, filling you up damn near wholeheartedly, the crevices inside of you seeming to mould to his skin as you worked yourself on him.

Zoro started moving against you, and you gasped as his angle changed, somehow reaching farther in your body and causing tingles to erupt all along your skin. Your mind buzzed as he thrust into you with renewed vigor, core pulsing as you felt yourself come closer and closer to the edge. 

You came all at once, teeth biting down in Zoro’s mouth before you parted from him. You let out a gasping moan, attempting to toss your head back as stars burst across your vision. Zoro’s hand in your hair dragged you back into a kiss, though; this one was slower, less teeth this time, like him coming had lessened the urge to bite. 

Your movements slowed, coming to rest against Zoro’s skin, warm and—although you wouldn’t say so out loud—almost comfortable. His hand hadn’t budged from where it was pressed against your lower back, holding you tight to him. 

There was a sticky wetness spreading fast by your thighs, and you grimaced, lifting yourself off of Zoro and rolling beside him on your back in one fluid motion. He stifled a groan at the movement, clearly irritated at the fact you hadn’t given any warning. 

You lay there, breath heaving, rising out your high and making no move to touch the man laying by your side. 

After you’d regained some of your dignity, you sat up, eyes narrowing at Zoro. “Get off my bed.” 

Zoro gave you an exasperated look, but he didn’t argue; he just climbed off your bed, retrieving his clothes from where you’d tossed them about the room. He donned them slowly, like he had all the time in the world. Your eyes traced along his figure while he did, and you only felt sort of annoyed by it. 

“I still hate you,” you snapped, after he’d finished changing. Zoro just scoffed, picking up his swords and slinging them across one shoulder. You could see a bruise purpling by his neck. At least you’d done damage. 

“Fine by me,” he replied, straightening his shirt and giving you a look—not quite irritated, not quite sarcastic. “Dinner’s still waiting for you.” 

You glared at his back as he opened the door to your bedroom. “Get lost, Roronoa,” you said, and that was that. 

© halfvalid 2023

[amurotoorudesu]

just a sagau genshin abt the newest banner (geo & hydro dragon my love) (the creator is self insert) LOTS OF OOC

a/n : written in rush cuz i randomly think abt this after knewing next phase banner and i hope i got both of them, i was gonna added about how i forgot ayato & childe exist when i planning on which dps from each vision should i pull, but they make no sense so i didnt include it.

"I didnt mean to look down on your choice, Your Grace. But, didnt your cousin says itll be better just to pull me...?"

You look at Zhongli with the most unserious, more like silly face, thinking about hes actually jealous of your choice on pulling for Neuvillette.

While it's true you need his shield and he would be the first Geo 5 star you have, but who wouldnt want a hydro dragon pure water tester PLUS a water machine gun to pew pew those enemies!

And more better? You have an unbuild Furina too!

"But my cousin also says he would comeback to genshin to pull for Nupi!"

If Zhongli able to curse, he will.

when will you also gave him a cute, silly lil nickname to him too?

"But like, Your Grace—"

"Shhsshhh"

You quickly shut him, putting your own finger on his lips, making a small blush creep onto the Geo Archon.

Zhongli can feel the side eye Neuvillette gave him as the Hydro dragon sips on his pure water.

"But, Your—"

Seriously, you never saw this version of him thats cant control his own usual calm demeanor, but the version you see is the impatient and insists that his opinion is the best.

Not like he's wrong though.

You put your own finger on you lips now and did a mewing pose, kinda making those two old dragon sigh.

whats wrong with this generation...

"Zhongli, hear me out. Nupi is a nuke, or else should i say Nukelet? Thats suit you isnt it?"

Neuvillette sighed again, but he didnt hide his chuckle about his Creator giving him more silly nickname.

"Pardon me, Your Grace. While it doesn't matter to me that you call me that, but I'm a dragon, not a nuke. I dont boom myself"

"But youre a boomer."

"Was that supposed to be a joke?"

"No."

Back to Zhongli. Hes still thinking countless reason about why you should pull for him.

I mean, his material is easier to get (even if youre the Creator and couldve just easily get everything you want), his talent is useful (SHIELD??? BIG PILLARS???? THROWING BIG ROCKS TO THE ENEMIES?????), he got many fans (BUT ITLL BE USELESS IF HIS CREATOR DIDNT WANT TO PULL HIM), he got many fanfics (HE KNEW YOU LIKE TO READ THEM AND HE WILL HACK THE TUMBLR TO SHOWS UP MANY FANFICS ABOUT HIM ON YOUR DASHBOARD BUT EXCLUDING THE HURT/NO COMFORT BCS HE KNEW YOU DESPISE THEM)

But then he come to a conclusion, as he clapped his hand.

"Your Grace, if Sir Neuvillette have Furina on your team, what about Xiao?"

Fuck he was right. WHAT ABOUT YOUR XIAO????? HE NEED HIS FATHER FIGURE!!!!

"Youve got a point..." you pose like the trade offer meme.

"So, who should i choose now? is it you, Sir Zhongli, or is it you, Monsieur Neuvillette?"

"Uhm, pardon me but, why dont you just get us?" ask Neuvillette, putting his cup on the table.

"Dont you think itll be better, Your Grace? You get two dragons and you also have their companions on your team."

"Monsieur, i dont have that kind of money. Im still in high school, heck, a boarding school! Even if i have guaranteed now, i dont think i can."

"But our banner started on your holidays..."

"Ok now you got another point"

"So, what you gonna do?"

"I'll take two dragon, please"

Perhaps Zhongli should thank Neuvillette for his suggestion.

------------------------------------------------------

another a/n : i post this cuz im at my home, suffering from another sudden sickness (i keep getting nauseous and vomiting plus a bad fever & headache but idk what causes them can anyone tell me 😭) also i have a tooth extraction scheduled on Monday so yeah... wished my future self a good luck

[fandomapocalypse]

Love and relationships in Hazbin Hotel

Episode 7 has something interesting and in the song that is called "Out for love" is sung by a character that is referring to a type of love different from a romantic or sexual one, Carmilla is openly talking about familial love. Vaggie of course relates this to her romantic feelings towards Charlie and how she wants to help her. But something else interesting happens in episode 7, Rosie is properly introduced as Alastor's bestie. This leads to showing another type of love: platonic love.

Now to the main point of this post: Alastor. It's canon that he is aroace and as an ace myself (I'm still questioning whether I'm aromantic or demiromantic but this post isn't about me lol) I'm extremely happy to see myself through him. Plus, the fact that the perfect Tumblr sexyman is aroace is genius and hilarious, you can't possibly top this type of humor.

Alastor for me has been a great ace representation and I've seen myself mainly in how he acts around his friends or other people.

When it comes to Niffty it looks more like a relationship between someone with their feral cat or their crazy little sister. But it's still a genuine connection and a fun chaotic one at that, he even lets her touch his hair and climb on him. In regards to Mimzy, he has shown he cares about her and welcomes her with open arms. He openly hugs her, which shocks everyone in the cast. This is extremely important because Alastor usually only starts physical contact to mock others or to pretend physical closeness as a manipulation tactic (like he often does with Charlie). When it comes to people he hates Alastor may touch them but will quickly wipe his hand on his clothes, like what he did with Lucifer. Personally, I don't like personal contact and only accept it if I start it and usually I use it as a way to show affection with close friends. Also, they have known each other since they were alive, so Mimzy probably knows a lot about Alastor that the rest of the cast doesn't. Mimzy also says that they used to dance together. But that doesn't exclude the fact that she uses Alastor's friendship and affection to save her own ass and taking into account how Husk reacted to Mimzy, this isn't the first time she does this. Also, the relationship between the two starts to crumble after what happened in episode 6 and Mimzy seems to be the kind of friend who will pretend that they are still on good terms and still ask Alastor for favors in the future.

Now jumping back to Alastor's true bestie: Rosie. They probably bonded at first over their cannibalistic natures but it's clear that it evolved beyond that. Personally, I don't ship Alastor with anyone, but when it comes to Rosie I headcanon they are in a QPR.

There are various reasons why this relationship is so great and wholesome, the first one being that there is no power imbalance, they are equals. Both are cannibalistic overlords and are on equal footing in terms of power. When Rosie first sees Alastor she is genuinely happy which is something new because most people react badly to him out of fear or hatred.

Alastor respects Rosie, he even compliments her, in her introduction he says she is "the most darling, delightful, and dangerous Overlord of this side of the pentagram". Considering how self-centered and narcissistic he can be, it means a lot. Alastor would rather die again than compliment another Overlord who isn't Zestial, which he respects but out of fear. Alastor respects Rosie as his close friend. When they stand next to each other they give an air of equals, something that never happens thanks to Alastor's ego and sadism towering over everyone else. With Rosie it's different and Rosie can openly tease Alastor with the "Look at you, so polite! Alastor you can learn a thing or two" when comparing him to Charlie when meeting her, or "I'm just kidding, I know you're an ace in the hole" to tease him about his asexuality. This is something that not a lot of people can do because Alastor is obsessed with control and respect. After all, we see how badly he reacted when Husk insulted him.

He also harmonizes with her, he willingly makes a duet with her in "Ready for this". He isn't interrupting her, instead, he agrees with her and they sing together in unison. This is the first time he doesn't openly hijack a song or fight for control over it, like he did with Vox and Lucifer (although this also happened because this is Charlie's song, but who cares the point still stands). Also, this is the first time we see him dance with someone, instead of forcing them to join his musical number (like he does with Charlie on various occasions). Alastor and Rosie are in perfect sync and it's so wholesome and precious to see him being so openly happy with her. Many have pointed out that the only times Alastor is genuinely smiling is when he is with Rosie and it shows by his expression in his eyes.

Finally, Rosie is the only one capable of bringing the most human emotions out of him, the most obvious one being confusion. In the scene of "ace in the hole" Rosie manages to confuse and surprise Alastor for a solid second, which is a huge change of his persona around everyone else of control and manipulation. Also, it's hilarious that Alastor doesn't know what being aroace is, he probably thinks he is above all that.

He is openly relaxed around Rosie and lets her touch him in an affectionate way, something that not even Mimzy can do. It may be because of the height difference but Mimzy only touches Alastor to hug him and to emphasize he is a "heartless son of a bitch" and Alastor clearly gets irritated by her touching him that way and even moves her finger away from him. This never happens with Rosie and he even welcomes her touching him by not having any walls with her. It's Rosie the one starting the physical contact and Alastor doesn't seem to mind and he never tries to use physical contact to take advantage of her like he does with other characters. Rosie is one of the few people who can touch Alastor without losing an arm and instead have a positive reaction out of him.

The most genuine relationship Alastor has is with Rosie, he even has the confidence and comfort to stop his elegant and reserved persona of not swearing. Which he only does when he is truly angry, like what happened with Lucifer. Or when he is threatening someone like he did with Adam. Or when he is shocked when his microphone breaks. He swears to insult Susan, which is someone they both despise equally. Something that you would only do with your closest bestie.

Finally, let's talk about Alastor's breakdown in the last episode. We've already seen that Alastor is capable of having friendships that aren't based on an end goal. Alastor knows this but he rejects it because he is at the hotel originally for selfish goals and doesn't want his emotions to get in the way. He is terrified of ruining his reputation as a sadistic killer and becoming an altruistic who cares about his friends. Alastor wants to stop himself from starting to care about the crew the same way he cares about Rosie, Mimzy, or Nifty to some degree. This is confirmed by his conversation with Niffty, where he admits he has grown accustomed to the main crew and perhaps he is growing feelings of affection towards them in his own way.

In regards to shipping him with Rosie, I see it as a platonic ship or a QPR. Some people have a headcanon that if they had known each other when they were alive they would have married for tax benefits and to avoid the social stigma, which is the only right answer. When they first met in hell they probably had dates in cannibal town where they ate human flesh while gossiping and trash-talked about the other overlords. Which is exactly what an ace person like myself wants from a close friendship.

As an ace, I really like Alastor not because he is the ultimate Tumblr sexyman or see him as hot but because he is an extremely fun character that I can relate to. I'm grateful for the crew and VA that take into account he is aroace and take seriously that aspect of his character. I don't mind that the aroace representation in Hazbn Hotel is a narcissistic psychopath, if you want a more wholesome ace representation you can check Todd in Bojack Horseman or Saiki in The Disastrous Life of Saiki K.

I don't mind people shipping Alastor, after all, it's just people having fun, but you can't ignore that he is aroace and how this affects his relationships. So yeah have fun and respect and aroace community :)

ok thanks for hearing my rant bye

[nicksolemnlyswears]

DUDDDDE!!

I am in LOVE with your writing. I have been craving some good Han Lue works and you're filling the hole!

Everywhere is extremely lacking in quality Han Lue content bro 😭😭

But any whosies.

I was wondering if it were at all possible to request a Han work from you (from what I've seen you still have requests open so if you don't im sorry)

Specifically something about a reader who's fucking amazing at driving, and has been crushing on Han for a while, and the two decode to race (set in Tokyo) and whoever wins gets the loser to do what they want. Y'know classic setup.

You could choose where this leads to. Idc if we win or loose. All I want is a little bit of fluff sprinkled amongst some smut mayhaps. You could do this in headcannon format btw don't feel obligated to write the whole thing.

I'm just thirsting for any thing I can take 💀🙏🏼

Take your time! <3

pairing: han lue x racer!reader

words: 11.4k

warnings: some cursing and smut (pls wrap it before you tap it) don't judge my smut too much, it's been a while since i've written one

notes: hi anon! thank you for all your sweet, sweet words 🥺 i hope this is somewhere along the lines of what you were thinking of. as soon as i saw your request i was ✨inspired✨ it's been a long time since i've been so hooked by a oneshot. i have worked on it almost everyday since i received it so thank you! i changed the request just a little bit, i hope you don't mind.

trust me i know there is a ridiculous lack in han content! it's the reason i'm here writing over this man! there is not enough content for the speed i consume it, lol. i've read my own headcanons like 10 times already, excluding the times i was working on it.

anyways! might have gotten a little carried away but i enjoyed writing it so much! here you go! enjoy!

i really really hope you like it!!

Tokyo was the city where you learned how to street race. Weaving through the cars on the highway became second nature the harder you pressed the gas pedal. The neon lights turned into blurs as you sped down traffic, whether it was in search of a prize or a thrill.

You were meant to meet Han Lue. His presence became known as soon as he stepped foot in the parking complexes that serve as makeshift race tracks. He quickly became popular with the crowd, especially when he joined DK's crew.

His races were seen as exclusive, known to happen once in a blue moon. He was totally opposite to you. You took the opportunity to race any moment you could. It's what lead you to become a good racer. Practice makes perfect, after all.

'Good racer' is a bit of an understatement. You're one of the best right after DK. There's a debate about whether the second best is you or Han. Each person can take their pick. Many have suggested the idea for the both of you to race, but Han has shot down each and every one. He doesn't need to prove himself to anyone. Besides, he hasn't had anything to gain from racing you.

People like to call you 'Angel' because when you started participating in the races, you looked like an absolute angel, but soon after, they discovered you raced like the devil. You fool everyone around you, even with the way you drive. Whenever someone has to go against you, they think they have your strategy down, yet you switch it up every time.

The distinctive revving of your car alerts Han of your presence. He glances to his left, where you've parked right beside him. As you open the door and step out of your car, he opens a bag of chips, depositing one into his mouth.

You walk over to him, leaning against his car like he is. The bare skin of your back arching slightly as it touches the cool metal. "Have I missed anything?"

Han shakes his head cooly, watching his surroundings. He spares you a glance, taking in what you're wearing. A short, shimmery dress with an open back and high heels. Seems like you don't plan on racing tonight. You refuse to race in high heels. You've tried before and failed. You didn't lose, but you did break off both heels.

You feel his eyes trailing over your body, and you don't mind it. You like that you can catch his attention that way. Having a crush on a guy like Han takes work. He has every woman's attention in the racing underground. They often cling to his arms and bat their eyelashes his way, and he has gladly taken a few of them home.

"You done judging my outfit?" You say, looking at him.

"Not judging, admiring," he promptly replies with a small shrug.

That right there is what feeds into your silly little crush. Han isn't afraid of your comments or banter. If you look good, he'll say it. It's the way he says it that irks you, though. He is so nonchalant and aloof like he's commenting on the weather.

It doesn't help that he's never truly made a move on you. He considers you his friend and acts that way (most of the time, at least). You hate every moment because being his friend is the last thing you want.

"I take it you're not gonna race tonight?" He asks, already knowing the answer. He just needed an excuse to talk to you. Digging into his bag of chips, he grabbed another one to pop into his mouth.

"Not unless it's against you," you respond cheekily.

Han chuckles, "Not you too."

"Are you afraid of losing, Han?" You ask him, keeping your eyes on the race about to start. Why else would he avoid racing you?

Han props one arm on the roof of his car, facing you and saying, "If you're into racing, you can't be afraid to lose, Angel."

"Then why don't you spoil me a little and race me?" You hum, turning your head to face him. He's much closer than you anticipated, but you resist the urge to pull back despite the reddening of your cheeks. You want Han to know you like him even if you refuse to say it out loud.

"Maybe one day when I have something to race for," he responds simply, kissing your cheek and turning back to watch the race.

You release a shaky sigh and try to calm your pounding heart. Extending a hand, you dip your fingers into Han's nearly empty bag of chips and steal one for yourself. Han doesn't mind lowering the bag to make it easier for you. There's a smirk on his face as he fully well knows what he did. It's fun to make you flustered.

Han is out on the streets of Tokyo doing business or collecting his money from the greedy hands of wanna be gangsters. It's entertaining, to say the least, although sometimes it gets tedious. It's only fun when they get rowdy and want to intimidate him. They should know better than to judge Han by his calm exterior.

He's walking by the busy streets of Shibuya, the shopping district of Tokyo, minding his business. Han avoids the masses of people until he looks into a store and sees you. You're by the checkout desk, ringing out a client.

Han can't help it; he's drawn to you. Forgetting the wad money he has to collect, he enters the store. The bell on top of it chimes, prompting you to greet the customer in an abnormally cheery tone.

"Hello, welcome to-Han?" You stutter over the greeting, seeing his slightly mocking grin.

Han walks over to you and leans on the counter, there was barely anyone in the store now. Perfect timing. He assesses you and your overly pink clothes, bedazzled name tag, and glossy pink lips. It's unlike you to be so pink. He recalls you telling him you hate the wretched color.

"So this is where you work, Angel," he hums, toying with the trinkets on the checkout counter.

"Not everyone can survive with racing and sketchy side deals," You mutter. One hand on your tilted hip as you shoot him an annoyed look.

If racing made you enough money, you certainly would not be working in a store that makes you wear pink on every single shift. You could get more involved in the sketchy part of racing, but things are alright for now.

"True," Han stifles a laugh. He grabs a lollipop from the big jar filled with sweets for the paying customers and pops it into his mouth.

You extend a hand to throw away the colorful wrapping, and he places it gently on your hand, fingertips grazing your palm. You're not a teenager to be reacting over such minuscule actions, yet you do.

"What are you doing here, Han?" Han adores it when you say his name that way, pretending to be annoyed by his presence when in reality, you love having him around.

"Wanted to visit my favorite girl," he responds aloofly, carefully gauging your reaction. As he expected, your cheeks redden, and you try to hide it.

"Did you know lying makes your nose grow long," you scoff, rolling your eyes.

"Could be useful," Han says cheekily, causing your blush to deepen.

"If you're not going to buy anything, you can't be here," you shoot with a pout.

You weren't prepared to face Han this afternoon. You didn't get to repeat your affirmation as you do every night you encounter him. His constant playfulness throws you off, not giving you the opportunity to compose yourself.

"Oh no, consumerism got its claws on you," he jokes sarcastically. You glare at him and cross your arms over your chest, which only emphasizes the size of your chest. "Fine, help me find a new jacket?"

You round the counter and motion for Han to follow you toward the men's section. Your coworker will have no problem taking over the checkout counter.

You shoot Han question after question in search of the perfect jacket for him: colors, textures, durability, versatility, sizing, and so on. He responds just as quickly, propping an arm up and leaning against a rack of clothes as he watches you storm all over the store in search of the item that screams Han. He had no intentions of buying anything today but seeing how invested you got it leaves him no choice.

"I quite like this one," you beam, standing Han in front of a full-length mirror. You slide off the jacket he's wearing and replace it with the nice black leather jacket you found for him. Dusting him off, you look into the mirror seeing how perfectly it fits his broad shoulders.

"Why do I feel like you're giving me the most expensive one?" Han asks, looking at himself in the mirror.

He had to admit you picked well. He looks great in the black leather jacket. It didn't have too many buckles to make him uncomfortable, and it wasn't too warm either. The material felt nice and luxurious hence his comment.

"You asked for my help," you shrug, "It's not my fault I have expensive taste. Besides, you look hot in it." You wink at Han through the mirror.

Han tries to hide the smile forming on his lips. You were getting bolder and bolder. He knows about your crush on him; you're terrible at hiding it. Truthfully, he's felt the same from the moment he saw you race. You're oblivious, though, so he likes to tease you.

"I'll take it," Han sighs, refusing to look at the price tag. "Might even wear it on a date."

"Oh, you've got a date?" Your smile falters, quickly regretting picking such a nice outfit that makes him look so handsome. You'd definitely put out if a man wore that to a date and was as lovely as Han. All of your hard work just for another girl to enjoy it. If you catch one of Han's little friends wrapped around the jacket...you will burn it.

"Not yet," he says mysteriously, taking off the jacket and returning to the checkout counter. Han has to get going. He does have to collect his money. Especially now that you've convinced him to buy the expensive leather jacket. 'It's an investment,' he tells himself.

"She'll be one lucky girl," you huff, scanning the tag, carefully folding it, and placing it on a bag. "Don't worry, I'll apply the friends and family discount."

You watch Han go through the display window and hope he was just fucking with you on the whole date thing. You can live with your crush and have him as just a friend, but if he gets a girlfriend, you will not be able to manage it. You scold yourself silently for acting like a lovesick teenager. You're better than that. Right?

Taking the party to Han's club after a race is a must, especially after winning six thousand dollars. You won't have to worry about rent for at least six months, which is something to celebrate.

You park next to Han's car, and he waits for you to enter the plain-looking building. People greet him left and right as they go through the door that pours music and lights each time it's opened.

"You sure are popular," you tease him, leisurely walking towards him.

"Comes with the territory," Han responds without missing a beat. "Ready?" He asks, motioning for you to walk ahead of him.

"Always," you chirp. You purposefully accentuate the sway of your hips, giving Han something to look at.

Being a Friday night, the inside is filled to the brim, there isn't any space for more drunken people. Using your short height to your advantage, you easily find a way to the connecting hallway between this part of the club and the more exclusive one.

Han isn't as lucky constantly losing you from his sight. He's conscious that you are a grown woman capable of making your own decisions and caring for yourself, but he'd feel better being with you.

When he catches up to you at a point, he grabs your hips, pressing you against him, preventing you from getting lost again. You look back, startled, expecting to see a stranger rubbing against you. Noticing this, Han quickly calms you, "It's just me, Angel."

'It's just Han,' you repeat to yourself. You grab onto one of his hands, holding onto your hip, taking full advantage of the situation. Having Han wrapped around you feels like being on cloud nine. If this wasn't his club, you'd be going in circles, so he never pulls away.

With Han holding onto you, the way to the 'not-so-secret' hallway takes longer than usual. Not that you're complaining, though! Han's firm grip makes you fall harder for him. It fuels your imagination on how it would feel in other situations.

Han enjoys this position just as much as you do. He can pretend it's a safety thing as he steers you away from the sweaty bodies of drunks dancing, but it's for his selfish gain.

Having your body close to him reminds him of what he's missing and desperately desires. It started as a little innocent game for Han, knowing you had a crush on him, but then it turned into something more. He likes that you have feelings for him and wants it to stay that way. Han wants your attention on him all the time. His games are over; he wants you.

To your surprise, Han doesn't let go of your waist when you enter the hallway. Instead, he slings one arm around it as he walks beside you. "Maybe we should've taken the other entrance," he smirks.

"And miss the show?" You chuckle, finding a couple making out in the deserted hallway. Neither is willing to admit it's not about the show but about Han's proximity.

Unlike all the other times in the past you've partied with Han, he doesn't let go of you for more than two minutes. You dance all night together, just the two of you, no girls coming up to Han and no guys coming up to you. There simply wasn't a window of opportunity.

"You enjoying yourself?" He says in your ear over the loud music. Your back is against his front as your sway and roll your body to the beat. One of his hands is nursing a drink, and the other is right where it should be, on you.

"I won 6k and have a cute guy buying me drinks and dancing with me. What do you think?" You giggle, turning in his arms to face him instead. The drinks stop you from overthinking and let you wrap your arms around his neck. Faces close. You want to kiss him so bad you're not drunk enough, though, and it's not the way you'd like to do it, either.

"Just making sure," he smiles down at you, hand on your lower back.

The night is long, yet with Han, it goes by so fast. Sooner than you'd prefer, he walks you to your car, no longer holding onto your waist but your hand. There are only a few stragglers left behind who refuse to acknowledge the night is over. You and Han are two of them.

Reaching your white and red, modified skyline Han opens the door for you. With one arm propped against the open door and the other extended onto the roof, Han cages you against your car. Before you get in, you turn to face him, finding the bravery to do something you've been thinking about all night.

"Thanks for tonight, Han. I had fun," you say softly, suddenly feeling shy.

"Anytime, Angel," he responds smoothly, brushing his fingers on your naked shoulder. The jacket you wore earlier was discarded somewhere in the bar. An excuse for Han to see you outside the races.

"Well, goodnight." Gathering every particle of bravery, you stand on your toes and peck his lips softly.

It's only a tiny, innocent kiss, yet it makes Han close his eyes. It happens too quickly for his liking. You have been growing bolder, bold enough to kiss him. He needs to step up his game.

Taking advantage of his distracted state, you close your car door and rev the engine. On the drive to your apartment, you squeal in excitement. Fingers ghost over your lips, replaying the small kiss over and over again.

Another chance at a race becomes available only days after your win. Men love to challenge women, especially those who are winning, much like you are.

They hate seeing you be successful, but it doesn't bother you in the least. It's another opportunity to win cash or a car, which you can use for parts and sell what you don't need.

As you roll up to the starting line, Han approaches your window, leaning down to duck his head in.

"Come to give me a good luck kiss?" You speak playfully, lips turned up into a smile.

You two haven't talked about what happened at the club and have continued to act as you usually do. He's been more touchy with you, though, often trying to find a way to be close to you. Being the lovestruck fool you are, you've encouraged it, finding those ways to let him be close.

"We both know you don't need luck. You've got this in the bag, Angel." Han speaks encouragingly, "Tell you what, though. You win, and it's yours."

"Making me earn it, I see," you laugh, shaking your head. "Alright, you've got a deal. See you on the other side."

Han is confident you'll win. With a last reassuring tap on your door, he steps back, finding his place in the crowd.

Your opponent finally drives up to the starting line, sending you an unnecessary nasty look you laugh at. The flag girl stands between the two cars, her dress leaving nothing to the imagination. You respect it. They are a lot more confident than you are in that department.

You are off when the word 'go' falls from her lips. You knew this track by heart, having raced it so many times. You knew exactly when to hit the gas and when to press the brake to get the car to swerve. Han's full attention is on your race, and when your car disappears to another level, he takes the elevator up to the top floor, where the finish line is. Watching you race is interesting. You always come up with ways to confuse your opponents.

With a bag of chips, he anxiously waits for your victory. Regardless of your ability to race and win, your races make him nervous. He cares about you, and so many things can go wrong.

The noisy crowd gets louder as the sound of tires screeching gets closer. In seconds, your car swerves onto the top floor, again marking you as the victor. There's not a scratch or bump in your car. Your opponent arrives shortly after with dents and long scratches in his paint.

The crowd cheers loudly for you, coming up to you to congratulate you and tell you how cool you looked. Your opponent comes up to you and hands you his keys with a scowl. You shrug it off. A deal is a deal.

Winning leaves you on a high, a feeling of invincibility wrapping around you. You've learned to control it because that feeling caused a big loss years ago. You get distracted by the people around you and forget Han's promise. It's funny because it was the only thing running through your head while you raced.

"Good job out there," Han says, catching up to you later in the night once the hype died down.

"Why, thank you!" You chirp, closing the hood of your car and leaning back to sit on it.

"I believe I made a promise," Han mentions, stepping close to you until you're face to face, only a few inches between the two of you. "You did," you nod, biting your lip.

Han notices this, bringing a hand up to cup your face, his thumb tugging your lip loose from the tight hold of your teeth. The other wraps around your waist, pulling you close. You slide on the warm metal of your car, placing a hand on his chest to brace yourself as Han settles between your legs.

"I'm a man of my word," he whispers, finally leaning down to press his eager lips against yours. Han is greedy for many things, and your lips are one of them. Ever since that night at the club, he's wanted to smash his lips against yours, to feel you close, taste you.

Your eyes instantly flutter close, fisting Han's shirt in your hand as if afraid he'll pull away too quickly. The kiss starts slowly as you both test the waters, but it soon becomes not enough. Han tilts his head, deepening the kiss.

It's an electric shock that consumes him and doesn't let him go. This is the result of Han holding himself back, and you made it worse when you gave him a taste the other night.

Han slips a hand under your shirt, feeling the warmth of your skin. You gasp against his lips, arching your back as his cold fingers catch you by surprise. It serves as an opportunity for Han, his tongue pushing past your pouty lips, savoring the moment.

You gave into him, offering everything you have in exchange for this moment. His warmth wraps around you, burning you from the inside out. The need to breathe makes itself present too soon and becomes far more demanding than the need for each other's lips.

Han pulls away, your bottom lip between his teeth. You're breathless, as if you ran a marathon. You feel lightheaded, intoxicated by Han, who continues to peck your lips softly. He might be addicted already. The tips of his fingers draw soothing circles on your lower back, grounding you in the moment.

"So this is what winning feels like," you breathe out, smoothing Han's shirt with your palms. A futile way to hide their shakiness.

Han laughs, pressing his face against your neck and leaving a fleeting kiss behind. "Appears so, Angel."

A perk of being Han's friend is using his garage whenever you want. The days of paying for a spot to fix your car in a stranger's garage are far in the past. At the moment, you've spent the most part of the afternoon upgrading your car. The car you won on your last race sits beside yours with the hood popped open as you switched around pieces. He had quality parts, and his driving still sucked.

Twinkie, Earl, and the others are scattered around the large garage, working on different things and chattering. You had purposefully picked a spot away from them so you wouldn't get distracted. With work, your time is limited.

Han is on the second floor, leaning against the railing and pretending to watch the first floor and what they are doing. In reality, he is watching you closely.

You're bent over the hood of the car, working on unscrewing a tight bolt, cursing at the man who installed it initially. It's a sight straight out of his dreams. Your Nike sweatpants hung low on your hips, framing your ass perfectly. If he focused, he'd see the dimples on your lower back. His mind ran wild at the thought of pressing his thumbs against them while taking you from behind.

It's been a while since he's slept around. He cut himself off when he realized his feelings for you. What was the point of sleeping around if he wouldn't be satisfied? Those girls weren't you. They were temporary relief. Now, his pants tighten at anything you do. It's like he's seventeen again and unable to keep it in his pants.

He followed the curve of your ass to your arched back and the cropped shirt you wore. The matching crew neck sweater you arrived in is discarded in your car due to the heat. The revealing shirt rose with each of your movements, revealing the band of your baby blue bra. You tug on it for the millionth time today, annoyed.

The strands of hair you curled to frame your face stick uncomfortably to your sweaty forehead. You regret not putting them back into the two braids that fell over your shoulders.

Han needed to rip his eyes away from you before the others noticed. He's been staring for too long, fantasizing about everything he could do to you. To Han, you looked even more beautiful than you did that night with your sparkly dress and makeup. A woman who knows her way around a car is instantly a hundred times more attractive in his eyes.

As he accidentally visualizes you taking his cock from that same exact position, car included, you groan and straighten up. "I need help," you whine to no one in particular. The bolt is not budging, no matter how hard you try.

Han snaps out of his fantasy and springs into action, quickly appearing by your side. You've bent over again, wrench in hand, to give it one more try before giving up. He leans beside you, a hand on your lower back for faux support.

"What's the matter, Angel?" He says softly, one hand propping him up as he looks at the machinery under the hood. It's better if he helps you. He can't continue listening to your whines and groans.

"I need to unscrew those," you point at the bolts giving you a hard time.

Han asks for the wrench in your hands, and you place it in his hand, annoyed. You don't need the help of a man to do this, but it's Han, so you'll take it. You watch him as he places the wrench around the bolt, his arm tenses, emphasizing his muscles hidden by the short-sleeved button-up he wore over a white wife-beater tank.

His hair fell around his eyes as he successfully unscrewed the bolts. Feminism died as you lustfully took in Han, biting your lip. 'What a man,' you thought. You would've instantly refused the help if he had been any other guy.

"There you go," Han says, handing you the wrench. When he spares you a glance, he laughs softly. Good to know he has the same effect you have on him.

"Whatever would I do without you," you purr, shooting him a mischievous smile, "You deserve a reward." That's what it has come to, silly excuses to kiss Han because you're just friends. Nothing more.

Han looks at your lips briefly before snapping back to your eyes. You grin at him, leaning closer to kiss him for his 'hard work.' You know that he's been watching you all this time; you saw it from the reflective surface of the toolbox. Seeing his quickness to help you makes you believe he enjoyed the show.

Your lips brush teasingly against his, and just before Han can grab the back of your neck to stop the teasing, a loud bang tears through the room. Both you and Han pull away to see where the sound comes from, but Han bangs his head on the car's hood in the process.

"What the hell was that?" Han yells, rubbing the back of his head. He's annoyed that he's been interrupted.

"Sorry! The motor I was working on fell!" Earl exclaims from the other side of the garage, unaware of the daggers Han is throwing him.

"Best I get back to work," you quietly say with a chuckle, taking the piece you needed out of the car to bring it to yours.

"Yeah," Han says simply, reluctantly leaving to do his own thing.

Each and everyone that's in Han's garage returns to their business after the noisy interruption. Twinkie turns on a radio, blasting music to drown out the silence and clanking of tools. You work without interruption for the next three hours, giving your car all the love it deserves.

You clean your hands free of the motor oil and grease and search for Han. Your work for today was done. Now that you took anything valuable from the car you won, you had to sell it. You figured Han could do that for you.

"Hey, are you busy?" You ask him, seeing him working on a part by his desk.

"Nah, what's up, Angel?" He questions, dropping the screwdriver in his hand to focus all his attention on you.

Leaning on the desk casually, you begin speaking, "After I replace the bumper and give it a new paint job, can you sell that car for me?"

"Shouldn't be a problem," glancing at the car, Han agrees. It's a popular car in the racing world, and as soon as he gets the word out he's selling it, many offers will pop up.

"You're the best, Han!" You beam at him, pushing yourself off the desk to return downstairs.

"Angel, wait," he calls after you. Being your friend has been fun, yet he needs more. You shouldn't have to come up with excuses to kiss him; you should be able to do it freely whenever you want.

"Yes, Han," you ask softly, tilting your head in question.

Standing up from the rolling chair, he approaches you, "Do you want to go on a date?"

A grin sneaks past your lips before you even process what he said. Instantly, you nod your head, "I'd love to." You could combust at that moment. Finally, after months of pining, Han asked you out.

"Let's go," he smiles, grabbing your hand and guiding you to his car.

"Wait, now?" You furrow your eyebrows.

"Yes, unless you have something more important," he asks, teasing you.

"Nothing is more important, but I'm a mess," you shake your head hesitantly. You spent your afternoon working on cars, sweating, and getting covered in grease. You didn't think it would be in sweatpants when you pictured going on a date. Not to mention the state of your hair.

"No, you're not. If you must know, you've had me distracted all day," Han whispers the last part in your ear, trying to convince you even if it means giving himself away.

"Am I supposed to apologize?" You question, the corner of your lip curving into a sultry smile. You had been right all along.

"No, just agree to the date. Be spontaneous," Han bounces his eyebrows cutely.

"Let's do it," you sigh, hoping you won't regret it.

"Atta girl," Han smiles victoriously.

Han tries to remember the last time he had a proper date. Even with his ex, they just sort of happened. No date ever officially branded as such. It's why rather than asking you and waiting for the day to arrive, he decided to do it spontaneously. It leaves him no time to be nervous or to overthink things.

You slide your sweatshirt back on on the way out to shield yourself from the chilly Japanese night. Han opens the door to his car for you, shutting the door when you slip in. The drive is short as he takes you to a small family-owned sushi place he swears by.

"I'm surprised you eat more than chips and crackers," you joke with him as the food arrives, and he takes a bite.

"I definitely eat more than that," Han replies nonchalantly, referring to something else entirely. It's something you don't catch despite your dirty mind.

A discussion develops when you discover Han always orders the same thing in the restaurant. He's in Japan. He needs to throw himself into the culture and try new things.

Starting easy, you grab a piece of sushi from your plate, "You need to try this."

"I don't know," Han grimaces as he looks at the sushi held in your chopsticks.

"That's not an answer. Open your mouth," you groan, gently placing the sushi roll in his mouth.

You watch him chew slowly, getting a feel for the new food. "It's good," he agrees, liking whatever you had ordered. It was delicious, actually.

"Better than yours, right?" You ask him, knowingly, pointing your chopsticks at him.

"Yes," he rolls his eyes, refusing to give you the satisfaction.

"Told you," you sing, grabbing both plates and placing them in the middle of the table. Now you could each grab from both and share your meals.

The date goes smoothly. It's a wonder why the two of you hadn't gone to dinner before today. You already know Han is attentive and funny but his wisdom surprises you. He's already lived through so much, more than an average person. Despite being a couple years older than you, he retains his youth. That may be why he appeals to a younger crowd as well.

"What was your life like growing up?" You ask him, taking a drink from your Coke. Han ordered another plate of sushi to share, the one you chose earlier.

"My upbringing wasn't the best," he shrugs, remembering his life in California as a teen. "I was always in trouble."

"Why does something tell me that you were the one causing the trouble," you say, narrowing your eyes.

"I definitely was," he chuckles, "But in the end, it brought me here, and I'm happy."

Han believes in the timing of life. He's been after Tokyo for so long. Before stepping foot in Tokyo, he had to go through the Dominican Republic, Rio, Germany, Shanghai, London, and many more places. It was supposed to happen that way, or he wouldn't have met you.

"I knew it," you sigh dramatically, "I've always been into bad boys."

"What about you, Angel?" He returns the question, curious about your past.

"I grew up in a normal Japanese family. My dad's a mechanic, my mom a nurse, and my sister a pain in the ass. I went to school for engineering and graduated with top honors," you tell him, reminiscing on your not-as-impressive past.

"You say that as if it's easy to graduate with top honors," Han chides you, to which you roll your eyes. "Why work retail? Doesn't engineering make you a lot more money?"

"Don't laugh, okay?" You point at Han. When he agrees not to laugh, you continue, "I wanted to be a Formula 1 racer when I was younger. My dad signed me up to participate in smaller competitions, and I was pretty damn good. My mom was totally against it and forced my dad and me to quit.

Fast forward, I'm in college, and engineering seemed like the way to go. Learned about street racing and figured that could be a way back into my dream. It's a foolish thought. The professionals spend years in proper circuits practicing and competing. No one comes with a background of illegal racing."

Han wasn't expecting that answer. He assumed you hated engineering and did it to appease your parents. He wonders why you thought he would laugh. Your dream is nothing to laugh at. Having witnessed your racing, you undoubtedly had the innate talent. "So retail?" He prompts, realizing you didn't answer the first question.

Snapping your fingers, you say, "Right! I figured I'd always have my degree. I'd rather spend my time having fun now; when the time comes, I'll return to that. I do like it, but I'm not ready to commit to a life of 9 to 5's. I prefer spending my time in the wee hours of the night racing. Since I can't be a Formula 1 racer, I'll be a street racer. Much cooler, anyways."

"That takes guts," Han tells you, "I'm glad you're doing it."

You give him a little shrug and a smile because you were too. Despite your childish dream dying when your mom forced you to quit, you're still happy with your life. Especially if you end up with a guy like Han.

Han, being a gentleman, pays for dinner. Before returning to the car, you stop by a convenience store for dessert. Han follows you buying snacks for himself. In search of something sweet, you find a shelf filled with Pocky. You grab the chocolate-covered ones with a plan in mind.

You and Han sit at a table outside the convenience store. It was getting late, so only a few people were around. You open the packet of Pocky, taking out a chocolate-covered stick.

"Have you ever played the Pocky game?" You ask, taking a bite of the treat.

"No. What is it?" Han looks at you curiously.

"Essentially, you grab one end of the Pocky stick, and I grab the other. We have to eat it, but if one of us pulls away, they lose," you respond simply, hiding the game's purpose.

"That sounds awfully like Lady and the Tramp," Han mentions, catching onto your intentions.

Offering him a stick, you say, "Want to play?"

Han smiles at you and grabs the Pocky stick placing the biscuit end between his teeth. You hold the chocolate-covered end and tap his hand to start. You both take it slow, Han opting to stay still as you near his lips. You tilt your head when you're close to his lips, giving him the perfect opportunity to kiss you when only a small piece is left.

You smile into the chocolate-flavored kiss. If you wanted to kiss Han, you could've done it without so many sneaky plans or excuses, but it wouldn't be as fun.

"So, who won?" Han asks when you pull away.

"Does it matter?" You cheekily say, pulling him back in for another kiss.

There's no flaw in your reasoning. Han pulls you close, lifting your legs to lie in his lap. You spend more time than you care to admit making out outside the convenience store.

Han offers to drive you to your apartment since your car needs to be finished. Throughout the drive, his hand is laced with yours in your lap. Small talk flows between you as you continue to learn about each other.

Smoke coming from your apartment building cuts that conversation short. Firefighters stand outside the building, spraying water into the source of the fire. Han steps out of the car with you to ask anyone what is going on.

Noticing the building manager across the street, you approach him. He quickly blurts out all the information he knows. You're one of many of the tenants to approach him. "There's a fire on the sixth floor. We don't know the damage yet. I understand this is your residence, but you need somewhere else to say for the next few days while we asses the damage and inspect the building."

"What am I going to do?" You groan, covering your face with your hands. You worry about where you'll stay and your stuff in your apartment. You have important documents in there.

"You can stay with me," Han offers without a hint of hesitation.

"Are you sure? I don't want to impose." It's nice of Han to offer you a place to stay, but would it be too much at this stage of their situationship. Last thing you want is to push boundaries.

"You're not imposing. Let me help you," Han insists, grabbing your hand to rub soothing circles in it. It's a given he has feelings for you, but before that, you are his friend, and he's not going to leave you out on the streets or sleeping in your car.

Han offers you calming words on the way to his apartment. Your apartment is on the twelfth floor and the other side of the fire. Chances are that your stuff will probably be fine. Whether the building will close for renovations is another matter entirely.

His apartment is just another level to the building he owns. Its entrance is on a more private side. Inside, it's very clean and organized, a surprise since you expect most guys to be messy. Picture frames and knick knacks are scattered throughout the space, giving you more of a glimpse into Han's life.

It's quiet between the two of you but comfortable. Han is giving you time to process what you saw in your building. He offers you his shower if you'd like, and when you brought up you didn't have any clothes, he searched for a clean t-shirt and sweatpants you could borrow from him.

A shower is just what you need as you let the water cascade down your body. Fire aside, it has been a great day, even before Han asked you on a date. Hope fills your being at the prospect of soon beginning a relationship with Han. So far, everything points out it can happen. There haven't been any red flags or hesitation from him.

You change into the oversized t-shirt Han picked out for you and the spare pair of underwear you always carry in your bag. Smart girls know to carry a spare in case of emergencies. You debate about wearing the sweatpants he left for you but choose against it. The t-shirt covers enough.

You shyly make your way out of the bathroom in search of Han. You find him in the bedroom, grabbing an extra pillow and blanket. "The bed is yours," he mentions, eyes briefly trailing your naked legs.

"Where will you sleep?" You ask, furrowing your eyebrows. If anyone has to sleep on the couch, it should be you.

"I'll take the couch," he responds, as you expected.

"Han, stop being a gentleman and get in bed with me," you say, taking the pillow from his grasp and placing it back on the top of the bed.

He offers you an 'Are you sure?' look, and you nod confidently. He doesn't need to be told twice. Han steps out of the bedroom for a few minutes and grabs a shower. Taking that time, you get on the bed to get comfortable, it's soft, and you sink into it.

You're snoozing off when he returns to the room. Han carefully peels back the sheets and gets under them. Feeling the bed dip, you turn to the side to face him.

Your sleepy mood makes you cuddle up to him without much thought. The smell of his soap invades your senses. Han naturally accepts it, throwing an arm around your waist and hugging you closer, legs intertwined. He kisses the top of your head, finding comfort in the position.

Thankful doesn't begin to cover how you feel. There's this overwhelming sense of security that comes with Han. There is something about him that makes you trust him. Deep down, you know he wouldn't intentionally hurt you.

"How are you feeling?" Han checks up on you before you fall asleep.

"I'm okay. I hope none of my things got damaged," you mumble into his chest, pressing a kiss into it afterward. "Thank you for everything, Han. Your help with the car, the date, letting me invade your bed," you finish with a soft laugh.

"Anytime, Angel," he responds truthfully. If he can help you in any way, he will. Sleep consumes both quickly after, and it becomes the best night you've both had in a while.

The following day you're the first to wake. Han's arms are around your waist, and you feel his breath tickle the back of your neck. He's warm, and you just want to sink into it even more. Your need to pee pries you out of his embrace, though. 

As carefully as possible, you slip out of his loose grasp and head to the bathroom. Han had picked out a toothbrush for you the night before, which you're thankful for. Shuffling out of the bathroom, you cook breakfast for Han as a 'thank you' for his hospitality.

You pick the ingredients you need from his fridge, careful not to make too much noise. Your progress is slower than you prefer as you get used to the kitchen layout and localize everything you might need.

Soon enough, you drop pancake batter into the pan, and while that cooks, you scramble eggs with veggies. Since it's his kitchen, you assume he'll like what you make. It's his ingredients, after all.

Just after finishing the last batch of pancakes, you hear the patter of Han's feet entering the kitchen. You turn to glance at him quickly and greet him, "Good morning! I made you breakfast, sit!"

"You didn't have to do that," Han says, coming up behind you. He traps you between his body and the stove as if having you close last night wasn't enough.

"Yes, I did! You let me stay here, borrow clothes, sleep in your bed," you flip the pancakes as you count all the nice things he's done in less than 24 hours.

Humming, unconvinced, Han kisses your cheek and thanks you. It sends a tingle between your legs as his voice is raspy and deep from sleep. Your cheeks flare up, betraying you as always.

Han follows your orders and sits by the kitchen table, waiting till you're done to begin eating. With that time in his hands, he observes you. You're wearing the t-shirt he loaned you, which swallowed your frame. Each time you flipped a pancake, it rose slightly to reveal the light green fabric of your panties. Han soaked the sight in and wondered if this was what waited for him in the near future.

His eyes continue trailing down to your thick thighs. He wouldn't mind being trapped between them. Lower and lower, his gaze went from your pretty legs to your varnished toes. Back up, it went as you turned off the stove and approached the table. You weren't wearing a bra under the t-shirt, as your nipples poked through the thin fabric.

Han's glad he didn't notice these things last night, or he wouldn't have been able to sleep a wink. Spreading his legs, he tried to hide the hard-on he was sporting. None the wiser, you sit on the empty chair near him and tell him to eat up.

Shooing the dirty thoughts from his mind, Han thanks you one more time and digs in. It's a lovely morning, with light chatter bouncing between you. Han praises your cooking every chance he gets and even finishes the pancakes you left over but not before drenching them in more syrup. When both of you are done, you clear the plates and place them in the sink to wash.

"Angel, come 'ere," Han calls from behind you.

Mindlessly you walk over to him, wondering what he wants. Han grabs your waist, pulling you to his lap. "Han, what are you doing? I have to do the dishes!" You squeal, holding onto him, afraid he'd let you fall.

"No, you don't," he speaks softly, one hand cupping your cheek.

"I don't?" you prompt, leaning into his touch.

"Let me properly thank you," he offers, lips chasing yours. Han can't contain himself any longer. You've done a number on him, strutting around his kitchen in your underwear. He wants you. He needs you.

You lean into the kiss as you always do, pouring everything you have into it. Tasting the coffee on his tongue, you bring your hand around the back of his neck, softly tugging the long strands of hair. Han groans into the kiss, having missed that sensation.

Repositioning yourself, you straddle Han in the rickety kitchen chair. You feel his hands all over your body, trailing down your back to grasp your ass in his palms. Every so often, you'd resurface to breathe but dip down again and again to continue kissing him.

Han feels himself harden as you rub your center against him deliciously. It's clear as day you want him just as much as he wants you.

"Want to spoil me and fuck me?" You breathe heavily, kissing Han's neck.

"So bold," Han chuckles, his hands wandering under the t-shirt to feel your warm skin, his nails faintly scratching your back, sending shivers down your spine. "Six months ago, you would've been too scared to ask me that."

Six months ago, you would've been too scared to kiss him on the cheek, but you've come a long way. As time passes, you realize your feelings are not one-sided because Han means every word he speaks to you despite his taunting nature. Each and every complement is honest.

"I got tired of waiting around for you," you bite back, nipping his neck and sucking a pretty bruise on it.

Han hisses at the momentary sting, "I thought I was just a friend?"

You laugh sarcastically, picking your head up to stare at him, "I don't let friends kiss me or grope my ass."

"What does that make me then?" Han raises an eyebrow, cheekily squeezing your ass as a smirk forms on his lips.

"Special," you shrug, lips pouty and swollen.

"Because?" He wants to hear you say that you feel something for him. It's a last hurrah on giving you a hard time for fun.

You realize it's time to be honest and come out with it. You stopped hiding your feelings a while ago. Hell, you even asked Han to fuck you. All that's left is to admit your feeling out loud. "Because I have feelings for you, Han Lue," you whisper, brushing the hair that threatens to fall over his eyes.

"That's all you had to say," Han murmurs, catching your lips in a passionate kiss.

The heat rises with each passing moment. Your feelings have now come to a boil and bubbled over. Han picks you up easily and sits you on the kitchen table. He leaves his touch on your naked back to trace the outside of your thighs. It's time to give you precisely what you asked for and what he has been fantasizing about for far too long.

Grabbing the elastic band of your panties, Han slides them down the curve of your ass and your thighs until they are off. He throws them somewhere in the room, the information unimportant for now.

"Han, please," you whine, spreading your legs wider and giving him access to your most private part. You beg between kisses to feel his touch where you need it most.

"So impatient, Angel." Han jabs lightly as his right-hand touches the inside of your thigh. The pads of his fingers brush over your thighs repeatedly, nearing the apex more and more with each stroke.

You gasp as he finally dips a finger into your folds, gathering the slick that formed to spread it around your bundle of nerves. You gasp, breaking the kiss and throwing your head back.

Han sucks on your neck and collarbones as you moan into the air. Slipping a finger into your tight walls, he groans, thinking about how they'll feel around his hard cock.

"Fuck, Han, feels so good," you sigh when Han adds another digit into your soaking core and presses on your clit with his thumb.

"I didn't realize I made you this wet," he says into your neck as you grind your hips into his hand. You must've been wanting this for as long as he has.

"Liar," you respond, staring at him with hooded eyes. The nights you've touched yourself while thinking about him are many. The real thing is a million times better.

Han watches you intently, catching every little reaction you have to his touch. The moans and whines echo through the room and are music to his ears. Without a doubt, there's a wet patch in his boxers as his tip leaks precum from the erotic sight in front of him.

Your walls clenching around him alert him you're close, and promptly after you make it known as you beg him not to stop, except he doesn't listen and stops just as you're about to cum.

"Why did you stop?" You complain, eyes wide in desperate need.

"Want you to cum on my tongue," he responds, stealing a quick kiss before he kneels on the floor. Wrapping his strong arms around your thighs, he scoots you closer to the edge.

His words shoot another current down your legs, no doubt making more of a mess. You wait with bated breath as Han kisses the inside of your thighs, making eye contact with you as he delves into your pussy.

He licks up from your hole up to your clit. You grasp his hair with one hand, pulling the t-shirt up with the other to better look at him going down on you. Your eyes roll involuntarily when Han wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and flicking it with his tongue. His long fingers find your opening once more, sliding in effortlessly.

You try to maintain eye contact with Han through it all. If his hair fell on his eyes, you'd quickly brush it back, not wanting to miss his lustful gaze. It spurred Han on to see you crumbling over him, biting your lip as you tried to hide the pretty cries that wanted to fall from your lips.

Han stops licking your clit and slows his thrusting fingers each time you near your orgasm. Time and time again, he repeats this when you're near the edge. Only when your arousal coats his hand he keeps his pace, and as you whine out, 'gonna cum, don't stop,' he slips his tongue into your pussy, tasting your cum directly from the source.

He makes a great example of what his nose can do as it brushes over your clit while he tongue fucks you. You trap Han between your legs as your pussy clenches, your orgasm coming in waves. As you relax back onto the kitchen table, Han continues to lick your puffy center, being careful with your sensitive nub.

When he stands, you fist his t-shirt, smashing your lips together, tasting your essence. "Let's take this to the bedroom," Han pants. You nod eagerly and squeal when he picks you up, your legs wrapped around his waist.

You leave a trail of kisses on his neck as he makes his way to the bedroom. Once there, you both fall on the bed, Han hovering over you. He tugs on your t-shirt, "As much as I love seeing you in my clothes, this has to come off."

Without the shirt, he can admire your naked body. A lone finger slides down from your neck to your sternum. It slides to your side near the curve of your left breast, where a small sakura flower is tattooed.

"This is my new favorite thing about you," Han softly says, noticing you staring at him.

The tattoo was an impulsive thing to do. You had wanted a tattoo for years but never knew what to get. After your last breakup two years ago, you got the little flower instead of getting bangs and dying your hair. It has no real meaning to you. It's just a cute flower.

"You're the first to see it since I got it done," you tell him, a laugh bubbling from your lips as his touch on your ribs tickles.

"And I hope it stays that way," he responds. It's an unspoken promise. He wants you all to himself for the foreseeable future.

His finger continues the trajectory down your tummy, lightly going over your belly button before it traces over your mound and dips to touch your clit.

You gasp at the surge of pleasure as your clit remains sensitive from his previous actions. "Gotta say it's not fair that I'm the only one naked," you moan when Han continues to circle your nub.

"What are you gonna do about it?" Han incites you to see what you'll do.

Any remaining shyness you had is long gone as lust replaces it. You kneel in front of Han, who leans back to watch you. Your chest is close to his face, so when you lean closer to grab the hem of his shirt, he sucks one of your nipples. 

"Han," you whine, arching your back," "Stop distracting me."

Ignoring his mouth on you, you grab his shirt and pull it off. Successfully making him stop his attack on your breasts. You peck his lips and kiss down his jaw.

You take your time kissing his toned chest and stomach. You wish to memorize every part of him. "You're so handsome, Han," you purr, glancing up at him.

Those simple words that spilled from your mouth made his heart flutter. Han is used to being the one to dish out compliments and praise the women he's with. To have you say that is like a breath of fresh air, and he can't wait to have more.

"Fuck, Angel," he groans, grasping your chin. You kiss his palm with a smile that's equally angelic and devilish.

You want to peel two more layers off Han's body and decide to do it all at once. Grasping the band of his pants and boxers, you slowly pull them down, building anticipation.

His cock springs out of its confines, landing on Han's abdomen. You don't hide your curious gaze as you take in his cock. It's so big it makes you bite your lip in anticipation. The tip is a dark pink as it drips with precum.

After you remove his pants entirely, you grasp his cock, feeling the warmth and weight of it. Han breathes out through his nose, a futile attempt to keep his cool. A string of saliva drips from your lips, coating his hard length. Each stroke you made caused a bead of pre to spill from him.

You take it as an invitation to taste him, wrapping your lips around his head your tongue licks the beads of white. 

Han does the impossible not to push your head down to take all of him. The thought is present, though. You've barely teased him compared to how he teased you, but Han can no longer resist. 

"I need you," Han groans, calling out your name, not the nickname you've been donned for the past three years.

You don't take it for granted. Hearing your name sends you into overdrive. Han pulls you up to kiss you and lies you down on the top of the bed. He comfortably gets between your legs that hug his waist to bring him closer. His cock brushes your wet pussy, and you both hiss at the sensation. Your pussy clenches around nothing at the thought of having Han fill you entirely.

"You ready, Angel?" Han asks you. One arm holding him up and the other wrapped around your thigh, giving you a comforting squeeze. Time stops ticking at that moment. It's just you and Han wrapped in each other. 

"I've been ready for the past month, Han. Fuck me, please," you plead quietly, your fingertips running up and down his back. 

"Just because you said, please." Han lines his cock up to your entrance and pushes past your lips into your warm center. Relief floods through the both of you, but it soon dissipates, and it's replaced by waves of unfiltered lust.

Han starts fucking into you deep, at the perfect pace. Your eyes involuntarily close as you feel Han's cock stretching you open and filling you like never before. Han kisses your temple and releases sexy moans into your ear with words of encouragement.

'Such a tight pussy just for me.'

'Taking me so good, Angel.'

'Can't get enough of you.'

You echo his words, encouraging him to keep fucking you. Your nails dig into his back as you try to hold on to anything, and your heels dig into his lower back. The closeness between you is intoxicating, your scents mixing and becoming one, his hair ticking your face, his warm skin heating up yours. 

Han slows the pace momentarily, leaning back on his knees to see your pretty cunt taking his cock. He wants to commit to memory how your pussy spreads to make way for his cock, a white ring on the base of his cock, and how your little clit is exposed and vulnerable to his touch.

The other girls he's slept with only got part of his attention and dedication. He didn't mean to make a huge impression. He only did his job, often choosing to lie back and let them do as they pleased with him. 

With you, it's different. He wants to give you his all and leave a great impression. He'll do all the work; you can just take it if that's what you want. That's the difference between you and the other girls. He lived to spoil you.

Meanwhile, you fall apart under him, moaning incoherent phrases he can barely make out. He loves hearing them, though. You reach for Han's hand as he increases his pace and grips it tightly.

Han slips his cock out of you, wanting to make his fantasy a reality. You shudder at the empty feeling and whine, "No, don't stop." 

"Come on, Angel. Get on your knees," Han coo's at you, kissing your pouty lips. "Promise you'll cum soon."

Han positions you on your knees, your back arched as your tits rub against the bed sheets. You huff through it all, desperate to have him pounding into you again. He smacks your ass when you wiggle it to get him to do what you want.

Han enters you in one smooth motion, this position amplifying your pleasure as he hits the spongy spot inside of you more directly.

"Han!" You cry out, fisting the sheets underneath you. 

"I'm right here, Angel," Han breathes, snapping his hips rhythmically. 

Just as he visualized, he grabs your hips in his large hands and digs his thumbs into the dimples on your back. With a tight hold, he thrusts into you unrelentingly, and you push back onto him just as eagerly. Your cries are muffled by the pillow you're hugging to your face.

Your pussy swallows him with each thrust, even as it clenches to prepare for orgasm. He can't hold back any longer as his balls clench with each faltering thrust, and your walls squeeze him tighter than ever.

" 'm cumming," you squeal, your legs tense up and shake. Your walls contract and release in a rhythmic motion that sends Han over the edge, your name on the tip of his tongue.

Han pulls out of you, helping you get back onto a comfortable position, and lies beside you, catching his breath. He turns to look at you, and you do the same. You can't hold his gaze long as you furiously blush.

Han laughs, grabbing your hand to lace your fingers together. "You can't get shy now!"

"I can't control it!" You exclaim, hiding your face with the same pillow as earlier. 

The rest of the day is spent in bed. Han ignores his daily responsibilities and stays in, getting lost in your touch and making promises he hopes to keep.

One Year and a Half Later...

You drive up to the empty parking complex. It's similar to the one you spend your nights on. Driving up the floors, you find Han where he told you he'd be. He leans against the familiar orange car, a bag of chips in his hands. A nice lather jacket covers his arms, making you smile when you remember how he got it in the first place.

"Hey, you wanted to meet me here?" You question, getting out of your car.

Approaching him, you kiss his salty lips and wait for an explanation regarding the random meet-up spot. In the entire year and a half of you dating, he's never asked you such a weird request.

"You feeling up to race?" Han asks you, holding your hand in his.

It's been years since the two of you met, and for the same amount of time, people have been pining you two to race. He denied every request, including the ones you threw every once in a while.

"It's about time," you exclaim, excitement filling your body. "What's at stake?"

There is something up Han's sleeve. You know that much. There is something he wants from you if he suddenly wants to race you. He could just ask. You'll give him everything he desires. You play along, though.

"Winner gets the other's car," he offers, pushing himself off the car to wrap his arms around you to hug you, his thumb soothingly brushing over the spot where your tattoo is. He last saw you when you left for your new engineering job early in the morning.

"You're willing to sacrifice your car?" You chuckle, implying you are going to win.

"It's only fair," he shrugs, kissing your cheek.

With one last peck, he lets you go and gets in his car. You follow his lead, lining up your car to the imaginary starting line. Han sets up a timer, and once it went off, both cars lurched forward at high speeds. 

You focus on the race, forgetting it's Han you're competing with. You've been dying to go against him for so long, desperate to find out who was the better racer between the two. 

As expected, Han makes it hard for you. The race is neck and neck as you drift up the floors of the building. Whenever Han takes the lead, you find a way to get ahead. You see the end near, and Han threatens to surpass you, but with one last boost, you keep your position, winning the race.

You leap out of your car, feeling the high of the race. No one has kept you on your toes for so long. It's a satisfying win. Han walks out of his car more calmly, smiling, happy to see you celebrate. It didn't matter to him that you were better. You deserved it.

"I can't believe I won," you exclaim, jumping into his arms as he spins you around.

"I can, and I'm so proud," Han says, kissing all over your face.

The race's prize is forgotten as you celebrate, but Han reminds you by handing you his keys, "A deal is a deal." You take the keys from him as a mere formality. You're not taking Han's precious car. Racing him is enough for you.

The weight of the keys is strange to you. They tend to be much heavier. Opening your palm to inspect them, you see that his keychains and spare keys are missing. In their place is a diamond ring.

"Han, what-" you stutter, whipping up to look at him.

"My car is yours. I figured I could be yours too. Will you marry me?" Han takes the keys from you, getting down on one knee and removing the ring from the holder. 

From all the possible scenarios you had in mind from this clandestine meeting, Han's proposal was not one of them. Nevertheless, you have your answer instantly.

"Yes," you nod, choking back a sob.

Han grabs your hand and slides the ring onto your fourth finger. It's a perfect fit, just like Han. You drop down in front of Han, ignoring the dirty floor, to kiss and hug him.

Han kisses away your tears, a smile permanently etched on his face. He never thought he'd see the day he would settle down, but this past year has been near perfection with you, and he doesn't see himself with anyone else.

"Did you let me win to set this up?" You ask him later that night. His arms are wrapped tightly around you as you lie on his chest.

"No," he answers simply, kissing your head.

"You let me win," you then say assertively.

"No, I did not, Angel," he answers again, hiding his smile in your hair.

"I don't believe you. We have to race again," you tell him, lifting your head to glance at him.

"I don't have a reason to. I've got everything I want right here. Take the win, Angel," Han tells you sweetly, his fingers playing with your ring.

"For now," you huff, settling back down and cuddling up to him.

Fin. 

thank you for reading! i didn't mean for it to be this long although i'm sure you guys are not complaining!

this was so much fun to write. guys like i am in love with han lue, i've spent hours on tiktok watching han lue and sung kang edits. i need help! tell me i'm not the only one like this!

requests are still open ❤️

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Palantir’s NHS-stealing Big Lie

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in TUCSON (Mar 9-10), then SAN FRANCISCO (Mar 13), Anaheim, and more!

Capitalism's Big Lie in four words: "There is no alternative." Looters use this lie for cover, insisting that they're hard-nosed grownups living in the reality of human nature, incentives, and facts (which don't care about your feelings).

The point of "there is no alternative" is to extinguish the innovative imagination. "There is no alternative" is really "stop trying to think of alternatives, dammit." But there are always alternatives, and the only reason to demand that they be excluded from consideration is that these alternatives are manifestly superior to the looter's supposed inevitability.

Right now, there's an attempt underway to loot the NHS, the UK's single most beloved institution. The NHS has been under sustained assault for decades – budget cuts, overt and stealth privatisation, etc. But one of its crown jewels has been stubbournly resistant to being auctioned off: patient data. Not that HMG hasn't repeatedly tried to flog patient data – it's just that the public won't stand for it:

https://www.theguardian.com/society/2023/nov/21/nhs-data-platform-may-be-undermined-by-lack-of-public-trust-warn-campaigners

Patients – quite reasonably – do not trust the private sector to handle their sensitive medical records.

Now, this presents a real conundrum, because NHS patient data, taken as a whole, holds untold medical insights. The UK is a large and diverse country and those records in aggregate can help researchers understand the efficacy of various medicines and other interventions. Leaving that data inert and unanalysed will cost lives: in the UK, and all over the world.

For years, the stock answer to "how do we do science on NHS records without violating patient privacy?" has been "just anonymise the data." The claim is that if you replace patient names with random numbers, you can release the data to research partners without compromising patient privacy, because no one will be able to turn those numbers back into names.

It would be great if this were true, but it isn't. In theory and in practice, it is surprisingly easy to "re-identify" individuals in anonymous data-sets. To take an obvious example: we know which two dates former PM Tony Blair was given a specific treatment for a cardiac emergency, because this happened while he was in office. We also know Blair's date of birth. Check any trove of NHS data that records a person who matches those three facts and you've found Tony Blair – and all the private data contained alongside those public facts is now in the public domain, forever.

Not everyone has Tony Blair's reidentification hooks, but everyone has data in some kind of database, and those databases are continually being breached, leaked or intentionally released. A breach from a taxi service like Addison-Lee or Uber, or from Transport for London, will reveal the journeys that immediately preceded each prescription at each clinic or hospital in an "anonymous" NHS dataset, which can then be cross-referenced to databases of home addresses and workplaces. In an eyeblink, millions of Britons' records of receiving treatment for STIs or cancer can be connected with named individuals – again, forever.

Re-identification attacks are now considered inevitable; security researchers have made a sport out of seeing how little additional information they need to re-identify individuals in anonymised data-sets. A surprising number of people in any large data-set can be re-identified based on a single characteristic in the data-set.

Given all this, anonymous NHS data releases should have been ruled out years ago. Instead, NHS records are to be handed over to the US military surveillance company Palantir, a notorious human-rights abuser and supplier to the world's most disgusting authoritarian regimes. Palantir – founded by the far-right Trump bagman Peter Thiel – takes its name from the evil wizard Sauron's all-seeing orb in Lord of the Rings ("Sauron, are we the baddies?"):

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/01/the-palantir-will-see-you-now/#public-private-partnership

The argument for turning over Britons' most sensitive personal data to an offshore war-crimes company is "there is no alternative." The UK needs the medical insights in those NHS records, and this is the only way to get at them.

As with every instance of "there is no alternative," this turns out to be a lie. What's more, the alternative is vastly superior to this chumocratic sell-out, was Made in Britain, and is the envy of medical researchers the world 'round. That alternative is "trusted research environments." In a new article for the Good Law Project, I describe these nigh-miraculous tools for privacy-preserving, best-of-breed medical research:

https://goodlawproject.org/cory-doctorow-health-data-it-isnt-just-palantir-or-bust/

At the outset of the covid pandemic Oxford's Ben Goldacre and his colleagues set out to perform realtime analysis of the data flooding into NHS trusts up and down the country, in order to learn more about this new disease. To do so, they created Opensafely, an open-source database that was tied into each NHS trust's own patient record systems:

https://timharford.com/2022/07/how-to-save-more-lives-and-avoid-a-privacy-apocalypse/

Opensafely has its own database query language, built on SQL, but tailored to medical research. Researchers write programs in this language to extract aggregate data from each NHS trust's servers, posing medical questions of the data without ever directly touching it. These programs are published in advance on a git server, and are preflighted on synthetic NHS data on a test server. Once the program is approved, it is sent to the main Opensafely server, which then farms out parts of the query to each NHS trust, packages up the results, and publishes them to a public repository.

This is better than "the best of both worlds." This public scientific process, with peer review and disclosure built in, allows for frequent, complex analysis of NHS data without giving a single third party access to a a single patient record, ever. Opensafely was wildly successful: in just months, Opensafely collaborators published sixty blockbuster papers in Nature – science that shaped the world's response to the pandemic.

Opensafely was so successful that the Secretary of State for Health and Social Care commissioned a review of the programme with an eye to expanding it to serve as the nation's default way of conducting research on medical data:

https://www.gov.uk/government/publications/better-broader-safer-using-health-data-for-research-and-analysis/better-broader-safer-using-health-data-for-research-and-analysis

This approach is cheaper, safer, and more effective than handing hundreds of millions of pounds to Palantir and hoping they will manage the impossible: anonymising data well enough that it is never re-identified. Trusted Research Environments have been endorsed by national associations of doctors and researchers as the superior alternative to giving the NHS's data to Peter Thiel or any other sharp operator seeking a public contract.

As a lifelong privacy campaigner, I find this approach nothing short of inspiring. I would love for there to be a way for publishers and researchers to glean privacy-preserving insights from public library checkouts (such a system would prove an important counter to Amazon's proprietary god's-eye view of reading habits); or BBC podcasts or streaming video viewership.

You see, there is an alternative. We don't have to choose between science and privacy, or the public interest and private gain. There's always an alternative – if there wasn't, the other side wouldn't have to continuously repeat the lie that no alternative is possible.

Name your price for 18 of my DRM-free ebooks and support the Electronic Frontier Foundation with the Humble Cory Doctorow Bundle.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/08/the-fire-of-orodruin/#are-we-the-baddies

Image: Gage Skidmore (modified) https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Peter_Thiel_(51876933345).jpg

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en