#in my opinion...BUT ALSO. Even STILL. Not even a goddamn DAY went by.

[bumblingbabooshka]

-Remembers how T’Pring looked as she watched Spock & Chapel vanish into the bathroom together after seeing them kiss on the bridge (which she knew was for a mission and didn’t hold against them but perhaps she could sense something there since they do have feelings for one another), maybe attempting to calm herself and her suspicions as she’s left alone again (and later finds she’s been left out entirely this whole time) and how she doesn’t know that Spock almost told Chapel he loved her then and there, with T’Pring in the other room waiting, and how Amanda and Sevet both think she could have more confidence in herself and how T’Pring thought that she and Spock were in this together (her holding his hand, subtly letting him know to pour slower so the tea flowers would bloom correctly, a whispered ‘well done’, the ritual is over mother) and how mere hours after she expresses to Spock how she feels: Like he doesn’t trust her, like he doesn’t care to include her in his life, how she’s trying her best to show him that she will accept him wholly, how she wants to be his partner instead of an adversary or an obstacle, after all this he’s found Chapel within the hour and is kissing her.-

[qiu-yan]

Do you have any feelings opinions or analysis of the golden core reveal or just how the scene in the ancestral hall went down?? Because I have a lot of feelings about it but I can't quite put them together into words and I love your analysis of the story and jiang cheng

thank you for the ask!!!! and thank you for your kind comments!!

god i have so many opinions about the golden core reveal, and the ancestral hall scene that precedes it. i don't quite have all my thoughts in proper essay order right now, but i will probably write another long-ass post about my Hot Takes some day soon.

unorganized thoughts as of right now:

for the ancestral hall scene, i am almost purely on jiang cheng's side. jiang cheng was rude as hell and he did verbally escalate instead of peacefully allowing wangxian to leave, yes. however, they are in his house. they are in front of his ancestors. they are in his ancestral hall, which they entered without permission. to me, it seems like wei wuxian wants to have his cake and eat it too: he wants to avoid jiang cheng and all the anger the jiang cheng of the present has at his (very real and rather devastating) mistakes, but he also wants to freely come and go in jiang cheng's own goddamn house, like he used to be able to when he still had a positive relationship with jiang cheng. if wei wuxian is going to act like jiang cheng and yunmeng jiang are nothing to him anymore, then he should properly commit to being a full outsider.

it's also interesting how wei wuxian focuses his retorts in his argument with jiang cheng on "how dare you be cruel to lan zhan!!! i'm protecting lan zhan!!!!" when in my view the vast majority of jiang cheng's verbal abuse was directed towards wei wuxian himself. jiang cheng calls lan wangji "riffraff" and "an outsider," but that...is incredibly mild language to me. jiang cheng is ruder to wen ning (by calling him a "wen dog") for heaven's sake. instead, jiang cheng is much nastier towards wei wuxian himself: wei wuxian is shameless, wei wuxian's idiotic hero complex got all his family members killed, wei wuxian is why jin ling is an orphan, wei wuxian is a heartless ingrate, etc etc.

wei wuxian, defend YOURSELF! jiang cheng is barely being nasty at all to lan wangji, but he IS being nasty to YOU! compared to all the horrid shit he yells at you, he barely even brings up lan wangji at all! at the very least, tell jiang cheng not to call wen ning a "wen dog"!

i haven't fully thought this out yet so i'm not sure how fully i stand by it, but the fact that wei wuxian gets that heated "defending lan wangji" when jiang cheng barely even insulted lan wangji that much, is very interesting. it implies to me that, while wei wuxian thinks he does not have the right to properly rebut jiang cheng's criticisms of himself, that he truly is guilty and therefore should just take jiang cheng's verbal abuse of him lying down - deep down, he is still upset about jiang cheng blaming him specifically. when jiang cheng calls wei wuxian an ingrate who got all of jiang cheng's family members killed, wei wuxian is in fact upset and does in fact want to protest. however, he is unable to openly do so because he also feels incredibly guilty himself about the role he played in jin zixuan and jiang yanli's deaths, and therefore thinks he does not have the right to defend himself against jiang cheng's rage on the same issue.

but wei wuxian is still upset and still wishes to rebut jiang cheng's fury. therefore, "defending lan wangji" becomes an excuse for wei wuxian, a pretext to find issue with jiang cheng's arguments and therefore fight back. it's somewhat similar to when someone writes an incredibly effective counterargument to your post, so you hyperfocus on mocking them for a spelling error instead: you can't think of a way to properly rebut their rebuttal, so you jump on the first thing that gives you an excuse to disagree with them and poke holes in their argument. wei wuxian believes (accurately or not) that he does not have the right to defend himself against jiang cheng; however, he is fully justified in defending lan wangji from jiang cheng, which gives him an excuse to argue back when jiang cheng insults wei wuxian.

this is evidenced by the fact that, in the ancestral hall scene, wei wuxian does not defend wen ning from jiang cheng at all. jiang cheng also gives wei wuxian shit for "let[ting] the Wen dog wander around in front of our gates," but wei wuxian just fully lets that comment slide in favor of defending only lan wangji. while this could be because lan wangji is present to hear jiang cheng say this while wen ning is not, for me, another reason comes to mind as well: in wei wuxian's mind, wen ning is also involved, however tangentially, in the deaths of jin zixuan and jiang yanli. wei wuxian's guilt extends to encompass wei ning as well. therefore, wei wuxian feels that he also does not have the right to defend wen ning from jiang cheng. it is only lan wangji out of the three people jiang cheng insults that wei wuxian has the right to defend, because lan wangji alone was not involved in the jiang family tragedy of wei wuxian's first life.

also, it was wei wuxian who first escalated a verbal confrontation into a physical one.

regarding the golden core transfer scene.....first, i find it absolutely hilarious that wen ning of all people spilled the beans to jiang cheng, and got so mad about it to boot. king, you helped operate on him. king, you helped lie to him about it. king, there is no shortage of things you have the full right to be angry with sect leader jiang about, but him believing the lies you actively chose to tell him and not figuring out that you were lying is not one of them. as someone else put it, one person between wen ning and jiang cheng had a free and active hand in removing wei wuxian's core and putting it into jiang cheng, and that person was not jiang cheng. wen ning helping violate jiang cheng's bodily autonomy and then weaponizing said nonconsensual surgery later in an argument against the same jiang cheng is kind of crazy to me, honestly.

imo (and i'm stealing from an analysis i read somewhere), wen ning was this harsh about the golden core reveal despite being one of the surgeons who nonconsensually operated on jiang cheng and then lied to him about it for similar reasons as i described for wei wuxian above. wen ning is also deeply angry with jiang cheng for a lot of things: jiang cheng repeatedly calls him a "thing" and kicks him around like he isn't a human being; jiang cheng also led the first siege of the burial mounds, which killed all save one of wen ning's family members. that is a completely reasonable thing to be mad about. but wen ning, having seen firsthand the wrongdoings of qishan wen, probably has a guilt complex of sorts about being a wen; more importantly, he feels incredibly guilty about his "role" in killing jin ling's father. therefore, wen ning probably does not feel he has the right to defend himself from jiang cheng.

but deep down wen ning is still angry. he is still incredibly angry with jiang cheng for the things jiang cheng did to wen ning. and, while wen ning may not feel like he has the right to defend himself from jiang cheng, defending wei wuxian from jiang cheng is a different matter. in wen ning's eyes, wei wuxian did no major wrong and always had good intentions. therefore, jiang cheng has no right to be angry with wei wuxian. therefore, if wen ning absolutely wrecks jiang cheng's shit defending wei wuxian (and not wen ning himself), then wen ning would be entirely justified.

second - and my thoughts on this haven't fully baked yet - there's this undercurrent in both the golden core transfer scene and the guanyin temple scene that, because wei wuxian gave jiang cheng his core, jiang cheng does not have the right to be angry with wei wuxian for the pain wei wuxian's actions caused jiang cheng. that jiang cheng is now permanently indebted to wei wuxian, which therefore voids all of jiang cheng's right to say that wei wuxian hurt him.

i don't like this undercurrent. i don't like this idea at all. if someone - even accidentally - caused you a lot of pain, the fact that they also once sacrificed themself for you does not negate the pain they caused you. you should be grateful for what they did for you, but that doesn't mean you no longer have a right to your pain.

to flip the script, jiang cheng in reality also sacrificed himself for wei wuxian: he only lost his golden core to begin with because he drew that wen patrol away from wei wuxian. it is factually correct to say that, were it not for jiang cheng, wei wuxian would very likely be dead. but if anyone were to say: "jiang cheng once sacrificed himself for wei wuxian, meaning that wei wuxian owes his life to jiang cheng; therefore, wei wuxian does not have the right to be angry with jiang cheng for the first siege of the burial mounds," that would be fucking stupid. because that's not how it works.

i hold this to be true even though there is a cause-and-effect relationship between each person's sacrifice and their later actions. wei wuxian not having a golden core explains a lot of his later lying and other behavior, and jiang cheng having been tortured because he saved wei wuxian in turn explains a lot of his later resentment and other behavior as well. but neither of their fates were set in stone. both of them still had free will and still could have made different decisions afterwards.

the above is all a lot of blaming, refutation of blaming, and morality wank, so here are some assorted non-morality opinions:

the gift of the magi esque dual-sacrifice wei wuxian and jiang cheng pulled for each other is my favorite part of the story. like holy shit.

wen ning did phrase the golden core reveal to be as hurtful as possible. i find the idea of a sacrifice performed out of love and care for the recipient later being weaponized against that same recipient to be a very interesting idea.

wei wuxian absolutely did not give up his golden core out of only a sense of duty. there was quite a lot of duty, obligation, and guilt (spurred on by jiang fengmian and yu ziyuan's last words to him) mixed into his reasons, but i think wei wuxian gave his golden core to jiang cheng because he loved jiang cheng and didn't want to watch jiang cheng suffer.

jiang cheng, meanwhile, led the wen patrol away and thus got captured in place of wei wuxian purely because he loved wei wuxian. in doing so, he specifically failed his duty to his dead parents, his ancestors, and his sect.

wei wuxian's internal narration about how he later conceptualized the golden core transfer as "his duty to the jiang" is interesting because it is written to be a post-hoc justification. as in, he came up with those reasons and that line of thinking after he already gave up his golden core, and was trying to make the outcome acceptable to himself.

jiang cheng postcanon is in a position to start healing. this take is also stolen from an analysis i read somewhere else, but the one question that's been cooking jiang cheng for the past 13 years is Why. why did wei wuxian do all that? did wei wuxian ever truly care about him, about his family, or was wei wuxian lying from the start? wei wuxian consistently accomplishes the impossible, so how could wei wuxian allow this to happen? but now that jiang cheng knows wei wuxian gave his golden core to him, suddenly all these questions have answers. the cause and effect relationship between A and B makes sense now. and now that jiang cheng has answers, he can let the questions stop cooking his brain and begin to heal and move on.

thank you again for the ask and the kind comments!

[deanssluvr]

JOOST WITH A GIRLY!READER HCS

pairing: joost klein x fem!reader

content: RPF. sfw + nsfw. pre-established relationship.

a/n: randomly felt the urge to write this at 3am.

SFW

- your style was the first thing he noticed about you when you met. you were a pink floral dress and heels with ribbons that decorated your hair. he thought you were beautiful. you took his staring as something negative at first, but was relieved when he complimented your outfit.

- you were nervous to bring him over to your place, but he was absolutely mesmerized by the way it was decorated.

- one of his favorite dates with you was when you both went to build a bear. you had asked him to get matching bears with you to which he happily agreed. you both settled on getting frogs. his green and yours pink. you dressed yours like a princess and he dressed his like spider-man. at the end you both exchanged them, so you kept his and vice versa.

- you both send pictures of each other doing things with said stuffed animals. like he’d send a pic of him out shopping with it or you’d send a pic cooking with it.

- he noticed your love of decorating so he goes out of way to buy you things that reminds him of you. whether it be little trinkets, a stuffed animal, or a record that he thinks you’d like.

- you have heavily influenced his style since he’s been with you.

- he always handles your stuffed animals with care. talks to them as well.

“how do you think she looks?” he looks down at the stuffed bunny in his hand and nods as if listening to a second opinion. “me too. i think she looks beautiful.”

- he enjoys sitting and watching you do your makeup and skin care routine. likes seeing how much care you put into it. there are a few times where he asked you to do his makeup. sometimes it was just simple eyeliner, but he loved it.

- on that same note you asked if he wanted to do a face mask with you one night and his face lit up immediately. now every once in a while you include him in your skincare routine.

- he lets you paint his nails a new color almost every week and always lets you pick the color. sometimes he just matches with whatever color your nail set is at the time.

- ties your shoes and buckles your heels for you without asking.

- you never pay for anything while he’s around because he never gives you the chance. dinner? new clothes? a piece of jewelry you looked at for only a few seconds? he’s already got his card out for you.

- he sleeps better at your place. it’s mostly because of you, but also because of how goddamn comfortable your bed is. the thick soft comforter? the many fluffy pillows? the pink sheets? he’d always fall asleep quickly in your bed.

- enjoys taking baths over showers with you. loves the scent of your soap you use and the bubbles you put in it. loves the way your hands gently wash him.

- learns how to do your hair. watches so many videos and asked you one day if he could do it. you spent the day doing your hair with him. he looked so concentrated and you found it so sweet.

NSFW

- he is obsessed with how you look in your lingerie sets. he loves the way the delicate lace and satin looks on you. he’s always hesitant to take it off of you.

- although he loved everything you wore, he had to admit that you in skirts were always his favorite. maybe it’s because your legs just look so good in them, or it’s actually because he loves thinking about how pretty they are pushed up your hips while he fucks you from behind. who knows?

- he turns your stuffed animals around whenever you both fuck. he told you it’s because he doesn’t want them to watch.

- he actually prefers having sex at your place though he never tells you. your bed is just so comfy with all the pillows and soft blankets that you layer on it.

- nothing but praise. even when he’s pounding into you harshly or fucking himself further into your throat, he’s still whispering sweet praises into your ear.

“so pretty taking my cock like this.”

“fuck, you’re so perfect”

“you’re doing so good for me schat.”

- loves the way you say his name. you could just be trying to get his attention and he’d melt at how his name sounds on your tongue. but he especially loves hearing you moan his name when your fucking. how desperate you sound for him almost brings him over the edge every time.

- won’t admit it, but the way you smell turns him on. when you hug him or simply just sit next to him and he could smell that perfume that he loves, he’s already getting hard.

- eats you out like you’re his last meal. would do it for hours if he could. prefers giving you head over anything. just loves the way you taste and even more so the sounds you make.

[hp-hcs]

mattheo riddle if you beat the shit out of him in a fistfight <3 — mattheo riddle x gn! reader

Requests open

implied Slytherin (non-pureblood reader)

tws: violence… duh

OOC. LIKE AS OOC AS IS POSSIBLE. i am so sorry for whatever this is 💀 i’m like, borderline delirious kind of sick, so that’s my excuse ig 😌

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

homeboy is not doing fine

his bruised ego 😔

he’d been teasing you for years with his group of lackeys, and you just snapped

he made a comment that went too far about your blood status, talking shit about your family

you just dropped your shit, spun around, and decked that mf

obviously he wasn’t fuckin expecting that, so he just kinda froze like 👊💥😳🧍‍♂️

he has no idea what to do

((he’s also just a little bit turned on bc manwhore duh))

everybody in the hallway freezes too like,

“you dumb bitch the fuck are you doing??”

his friends are jeering, and he just kind of shakes his head like a goddamn etch-a-sketch and like, gently shoves you back by your shoulders (cause you cute bae 🩷 he don’t wanna ruin that pretty face of urs <3)

you, on the other hand, are just ready to FUCK someone UP

and if that someone turns out to be the dark lord’s son, c’est la vie

he makes one more lame attempt at a scathing comment and you just fucking TACKLE him

you’re on top of him (not like that you silly little sluts get your mind outta the gutter) in the middle of the hallway just beating the s h i t out of him

homeboy has no idea what to do lmfao

lowkey he’s falling in love just from your knuckles smashing his face in (masochist manwhore)

he def thinks it’s hot as fuck

one of the professors comes to separate yinz, (probably hooch, cause there ain’t no way she puts up with any shit) and has to fucking DRAG YOU OFF of him

he's got like, a broken nose, a busted lip, a probably-going-to-become-a-black eye, and yk, decimated ego

but he’s just looking at you with those fuckin PUPPY DOG eyes

🥺

congrats, he’s obsessed

he won’t shut up about you for the rest of the day, to his friends, his enemies, madam pomfrey when he’s in the hospital wing…

they're all like “ah. i see the mommy and daddy issues are making an appearance”

when you get out of detention and go back to the common room, he LEAPS off of the couch and over to you

you’re standing there with still-bloody knuckles and a try me, i dare you face

he apologizes profusely, like, to a kind of pathetic extent

you’re like “dude, you’re not pureblood either, dipshit”

he got called out 😔

you apologize for OvErReAcTiNg (you had to apologize as part of your detention & punishment lmfao) and getting ‘unnecessarily violent’

and cause manwhore he’s just like “oh no it’s fine that was hot”

y/n: 😶🤨🫠

he’s got a lil giggle ✨

literal heart eyes for you

so ur like “yeah i gotta mess with this guy even more”

you kiss his cheek and make his brain stop working

baby is bluescreening rn

he then ends up shadowing you for the rest of the week, following a half-step behind you wherever you go like a lil puppy

(i’m of the opinion that he’s just a slightly more violent golden retriever white boy)

((i’m not saying himbo but himbo))

walk him like a dog, sis

alexa, play lovefool by the cardigans

he’s ur bitch now, enjoy <3

[beepboopkek]

— Hidden Surprises (F!Reader)

Including: Kamisato Ayato x AFAB!Reader amab version has been posted on both tumblr and ao3 cw: !! NSFW !!, afab!reader, established relationship, bottom!sub!reader, top!dom!ayato, fluff and smut, pwp but barely, smacking (paddle), lots of teasing/flirting/kissing, mirror s3x, cursing, d1rty talk, like one sentence of n1pple play, cl1t smacks (only a few), slight dom/sub undertones, implied dom drop from ayato, mayb a little unrealistic s3x idk, AFTERCARE!!!! w/c: approx 2.8k words, might change since i make edits while posting a/n: after 8 goddamn drafts of this fic i managed to finally finish it,, im like at a 50/50 opinion on this but honestly i jsu wanted to get the brainrot out of my system... sorry for the long absence :sob:.. also i tried changing up my writing style a little, id love any form of feedback so feel free to leave a comment :D NSFW BELOW THE CUT

The evening air was crisp as you gently swirled the Sake in your cup, eyeing your husband over the rim as he sat beside you. The Yashiro Commissioner was poised and perfect as always— his hair neatly tied over his shoulder with a ribbon that matched his usual outfit. Your gaze travelled the expanse of his torso, unconsciously lingering on his hands as he kept them folded on the table. “You've been staring for a while.” Ayato’s voice broke you out of your thoughts as your eyes met his violet ones and you smiled.

“Oh, don't mind me. I’m simply admiring the view.” Your voice had a teasing lilt as you replied, still boring your eyes into his as you took another sip of your drink.

Ayato simply raised a brow at you, before moving his curious gaze to the half-empty bottle of Sake left beside you— immediately bringing out a hand to drag the bottle away from your reach.

“Hey! I was drinking that—!” You tried to snatch back the bottle like a cat that got its toy taken away but unfortunately for you, Ayato was too fast.

“Oh, I know.” Your husband only infuriatingly smiled back at you, relishing in the adorable pout on your face as you folded your arms in annoyance.

“I apologise, I want you to be somewhat sober tonight.” 

You gasped, placing a hand on your chest, and giving him an offended look.

“I am sober! I only had two glasses.”

“Mhmm. Whatever you say.” 

“Why do you need me to be sober anyway?”

Ayato leaned towards you, resting his hand on a closed palm. He tilted his head and looked at you with nothing short of pure adoration before saying, “I have a surprise for you.”

This time, it was your turn to raise an eyebrow at him. You mimicked his position (albeit with less elegance) as you tried to make the mental calculations to discern what this “surprise” could be.

Ayato and the word “surprise” never really mixed well for you. The last time he had a "surprise," it involved a strange hotpot that left you feeling queasy for days.

Ah.

Bingo.

“If it's another one of your horrible food concoctions, count me out.”

Ayato chuckled, a wide smile spreading across his face as he shook his head lightly. “Hehe, not to worry, dear. It's something you'll like.”

You would never admit it, but the two glasses of Sake did, in fact, put your mind in a pleasant buzz. You were never a good drinker to begin with so maybe it was good that your husband had confiscated your wine before you went overboard.

Well, that certainly wasn't going to stop you from teasing him, though.

You gave Ayato a languid gaze as you reached out a hand to twirl soft baby blue strands between your fingers, feeling his eyes on you as you brought his hair towards your lips, leaning in to give the strands a chaste kiss. You could feel Ayato’s breath hitch at the blatant display of public affection, which you didn't do very often.

“ … Tell me what it is then.”

Ayato recovered quickly, pulling back his face of smug satisfaction as he smiled.

“Well, it wouldn't be much of a surprise then, would it?”

You pouted at him again and he only chuckled in response, giving you a coy smile.

Two can play that game.

You surveyed your surroundings before deducing that no one would catch you and a mischievous smile coiled on your face as you observed your husband suddenly stuck in conversation with someone seated in front of the two of you.

You quietly praised each archon for giving you this golden opportunity as the perfect distraction appeared without any effort on your part. 

You reached out to place your hand on his knee under the table, pretending to swirl the non-existent wine in your cup with the other so that no one would suspect a thing.

Ayato's eyes flickered to yours for a split second before continuing the conversation as if nothing had happened.

You smiled to yourself as you began to stroke the inside of his thigh with your thumb, inching your hand higher and higher.

He'd never admit it, but you could feel the way his leg shook ever so slightly at the intimate contact.

You kept your hand stationed there for the short duration of the commissioner’s conversation, cheekily observing the light dust of red that had covered the high rise of his cheeks (which he would later blame on the alcohol).

You're broken out of your giddy stupor when you feel a larger hand on yours, stopping all motion as he gripped your hand tightly before passing you a faux smile and turning back to excuse the two of you.

Rascal.

“I apologise, my wife seems to be getting tired.”

You looked at the guest and gave him an apologetic smile although you were anything but that.

The both of you quickly bid your goodbyes to more guests as you made your way out, your husband almost dragging you by the hand.

While the Yashiro Commissioner looked just about normal to everyone, you could see the impatient jitter in his steps, the flush down his neck and the slightly hurried hush in his voice as he navigated the two of you through the crowd.

Right as you were about to board the carriage to make your way back up to the Kamisato estate, Ayato pulled you against his chest to whisper into your ear—

“I'm going to ruin you tonight.”

…

Ayato kept a firm hand on your thigh the entire ride back, occasionally squeezing it while conversing with you as if nothing was happening.

As if he didn't make your entire body shudder with just a sentence.

As soon as the two of you entered the privacy of your shared room, Ayato covered your eyes with his hands and instructed you to keep them closed until he asked you to open them again while he helped you out of your outfit, both of you giggling at your unstable movements from being temporarily blinded.

Which landed you here, stark naked and seated on the edge of the bed waiting for your husband late into the night. Your eyes were screwed shut as he shuffled around the room before quietly helping you up and settling you on his lap— his slender hands squeezing around your body as he leaned in to nibble the shell of your ear. He moved his hands to your belly before dipping his hands in between and prying your legs apart with a gentle insistence that had you murmuring his name in half-hearted protest.

“Open your eyes.”

You did just that, adjusting to the sudden brightness as you took in the sight before you.

A large rectangular mirror with an ornate gold frame with the Kamisato crest on the top, set on the wall in front of your bed. 

You observed your reflection in the mirror with shallow breaths, the golden lamps doused the room in a soft glow as you shivered, your husband's hands still placed between your thighs, keeping them apart.

Archons.

Your eyes met Ayato's observant gaze in the mirror as he spoke again, "Well, what do you think?"

“ … It's beautiful.”

Ayato smiled against your ear, kissing the side of your head affectionately.

“I knew you would like it.” Your breath hitched in embarrassment as your gaze travelled the entire expanse of the mirror, your ears burning with the overwhelming urge to hide. You could see every inch of your exposed body reflected at you, making your heart race.

“But, why—”

His hands remained steady on your thighs, grounding you as he squeezed them again and cut you off with a kiss to the side of your neck as he looked at you through the mirror. “I want you to see how mesmerising you look.”

His hands travelled along the outline of your torso as you waited for him to continue, “I want you to see what I see.” That's when his left hand reached back onto the bed, fumbling momentarily before he brought something forward. You glanced down, curiosity piqued, and saw that he held a— Oh.“I thought you’d be more romantic with your surprise.” A paddle. With a tiny heart cut out in the middle of it. “Well, I’ve always believed in doing things in a more unorthodox way.” The mischievous glint in his eye told you there was more to this. Ayato’s hand, which was still on your thigh, pulled it back a little further. He gently swept the paddle against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, the polished wood providing a smooth glide. “The rules are simple,”

You tore your eyes from the mirror to glance to your side when he raised the paddle a little, striking down on your thigh. You jolted in surprise as you immediately felt his hand rub the irritated skin softly. “One, do not look away from the mirror.” Ayato’s finger traced the heart imprint left on your thigh as he continued, “— and two, do not close your eyes.” Ayato’s hands traced the outline of your body as he silently awaited your consent. The silence was that of comfort, you felt relaxed knowing you could opt out of this at any moment and your husband wouldn’t hold it against you. You smirked. “… Ruin me, Commissioner.” You felt a sharp exhale on your shoulder as Ayato’s hands moved with renewed purpose all over your body. You felt his hand creep towards your chest, fondling one side as he tweaked the nipple between his fingers, your low moans now filling the room. He latched his lips onto the column of your neck as he begrudgingly left your chest to trail his hand towards your clit. His other hand was still holding onto the paddle that rested against your thigh, unmoving and unfaltering in making its presence known. A wave of relief washed over you as his fingers made contact with your clit, your eyes closed in pure bliss as you moaned in pleasure, locking your hands behind his neck and— A smack to the inside of your thigh snapped your eyes right back open in shock. Oh. Right.“Eyes on the mirror.” You nodded fervently as Ayato went back to toying with your clit, drawing sticky sweet circles as his sharp gaze stayed glued to your body through the mirror. You glanced down to your thighs in the mirror to see a red imprint of the paddle on your skin and looked back up to meet Ayato’s heated gaze, a coy smirk playing into his voice as he spoke again. “Enjoy the show, dear.” Ayato slid his now wet middle and ring finger down, dipping the tips inside you as you shook in anticipation. His hand flexed as he moved his fingers deeper, lightly thrusting them in and out as he searched for your sensitive spots with experienced precision.

“All that bravado in the evening, where is it now?” 

He ground his palm into your clit as he pushed his fingers to the knuckle— Your moans mingling with his heavy breaths. You pushed yourself back against his chest in hopes of alleviating some of the tension in his pants.

His voice was breathless as he spoke in your ear, 

“Do you like it when I do this?” and he curled his fingers inside you, making you moan again.

Maybe it was the whole evening of teasing that got you to the cusp of an orgasm so soon but, it was quickly becoming too much. Ayato's skilled hands proved to be too deadly for you— making you close your eyes and lean your head back onto his shoulder as you moaned.

Smack!

Eyes opened wide, you jolted back up and your orgasm washed over you immediately as Ayato continued to pump his fingers in and out to help you ride it out.

“Fuck—”

You panted, struggling to keep your eyes open. Ayato stilled as his left hand let go of the paddle to grab your chin, forcing you to look sideways as he kissed you deeply.

Your lips parted with his as you both caught your breath— your husband gently removing his fingers from you and wiping them onto the cloth laid next to him.

Ayato moved you a little forward as he unzipped his pants, pulling his cock from underneath you so that it poked out between your soft thighs.

Archons, he could get used to this view.

He wanted to make you wait, wanted to edge you until you were begging for him, tears sticking to your clumped lashes as you pouted at him, whining and writhing in his hold as he kept your pleasure from you. 

But he couldn't.

He wanted you just as bad as you wanted him.

He aligned himself with you, slowly pushing in as you both moaned in relief.

Ayato curled a hand around your waist to hold you in place as he set a rhythm of short and quick thrusts, latching his mouth onto your neck again as he bit down to stifle his moans.

“Ayato, please-” 

A resonant smack to your sensitive nipple is all that you get in response as you immediately plaster your eyes back on the mirror.

— and archons was it a sight, your bodies were covered in a thin sheen of sweat as red-purple imprints of the paddle were littered across the expanse of your soft skin, little bruises blossoming on both sides of your neck, your hair stuck to your forehead as you writhed in your spot, aching to find release again.

The hand curled around your waist twisted downwards to play with your clit as you sighed in pure bliss before you abruptly felt his hand moving away and a series of smacks on your sensitive nerves.

Fuck. You didn't even notice you stopped looking at the mirror.

He unlatched himself from your neck, leaving deep imprints of his teeth as he raised his head to pull at your earlobe with his teeth.

“You know I don't like repeating myself.”

Tears clung to your eyes as your body buzzed through the different sensations of pain and pleasure, the thought of disappointing your husband sitting heavy in your throat as you swallowed down your complaints.

His pace grew erratic as you held onto him, heavy moans mingling with his silent ones as tears slipped from your eyes.

“Come with me.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as Ayato spoke into your ear. You barely registered the tip of the paddle hitting your clit again or how your husband pulled out just in time to finish on your lower back— your legs trembling as you clenched around nothing.

Holy shit.

Ayato detached himself from you, flipping you over so that you were laid flat on the bed on your stomach as you caught your breath. He took the washcloth he had set up earlier to clean you off a little before helping you up and lifting you to prepare a bath.

You were floating, you weren't sure how much time had passed when you came to but you were (yet again) seated in your husband’s lap as he gently massaged your stiff shoulders, waiting for you to regain your senses. “ … Hi.” You spoke as you turned your head to meet his lips in a soft kiss. “Hello.” You got up on shaking limbs, turning your body over so that you were straddling his legs. Ayato looked at you questioningly, tilting his head. You simply kissed the mole under his lip as you replied, “I wanted to see your face.”

“Oh? Did you miss me?”

You kissed the tip of his nose this time, “Yes.” 

He smiled, the edges of his eyes crinkling as his gaze lingered on all the hickeys he had left, his face dropping a little.

“How are you feeling?”

“Great. A little sore but I'll be fine.”

You leaned down to kiss the mole on his collarbone, lingering there to leave a love bite of your own.

There was a pause, you knew this was when he would start questioning himself.

“Was I—?”

Before he could finish his question, you captured his lips in a soft kiss, caressing the back of his head with your hands as you gently massage it.

“No. It was perfect. In every sense of the word, I enjoyed it.”

Ayato smiled at you again.

There was a comfortable silence after that, the both of you taking turns to wash out each other's hair and backs, sneaking small kisses in between as you giggled.

You dried each other off before your husband laid you down on the bed, procuring an ointment seemingly out of nowhere as he applied it to the bruises on your thighs.

You laid down on the soft sheets and felt the energy drain from your bones, giving Ayato one last peck on the lips before you drifted off to sleep.

“I love you.”

He kissed the top of your head lovingly, and if you were any more tired, you would've missed his response.

“I find myself falling for you more and more every single day. Goodnight, dear.”

[apuckishwit]

With a Capital P

Saw this post about Stobin having no boundaries, by @grimmfitzz and oops, my hand slipped.

By all rights, there should be some awkwardness. A little lingering strangeness, an adjustment period, if you will. After all, only a few days ago, he fully thought he had feelings for Robin. Well, obviously he does have feelings for her...but he'd thought they were entirely different than the ones he has.

He's maybe a little more concussed than he'd convinced the paramedics he was. To be fair, they had a lot going on.

The point is, he feels like there should be more weirdness. A time period in which he awkwardly shuffles Robin from a box marked 'possible girlfriend?' to the one marked just 'friend'--the one Tommy and Carol used to occupy before things went so sideways (though he's still too afraid to really examine the spaces those two left, too afraid it'll just confirm that he wasted so much time with people who were never his friends at all). Maybe even slot her into the box he's slowly constructing for the kids...something not quite labeled 'friend' and not quite labeled 'family' and quickly coming to take up the biggest chunk of his battered, lonely heart (oh, wow, yeah...definitely more concussed than he let on).

Turns out, though, that being drugged and tortured together, and then launching an assault on a gigantic flesh beast from another dimension with nothing but fireworks and nerve lets you skip over a lot of the beginning phases of a relationship (romantic or otherwise). Also turns out there's a secret, fourth box he didn't even know about. One that's just marked 'Robin' that he has apparently been just waiting for her to come along and fill.

Robin ends up spending most of the rest of the summer at Steve's house, more often than not. He doesn't know what she tells her parents. Doesn't particularly care. He's always had a weird relationship with parental care and authority, so he's not sure he's really in a position to have an opinion about if Robin is lying to her parents about where she is, or if they don't care that she's hanging out at his place so much.

They spend days abusing the central air, or watching movies they swipe from Family Video, or eating snacks out by the pool (he tells her she's welcome to swim, she notes that he never gets in the water himself and doesn't ask questions...but also doesn't move from his side). At first, he makes up a guest room for her when she spends the night, but after the fourth or fifth time one (or both) of them wake up screaming (goddamn, goddamn, goddamn it, he'd just gotten a handle on the nightmares about impossible creatures bursting from the wall, now he gets new material to deal with?) Robin just groans and collapses onto Steve's bed, burrowing under his blankets with him.

"Your room is hideous," she grumbles, grabbing one of his hands and bringing their joined fingers to rest in the small space between their bodies.

"I know," he shrugs. He squeezes her hand. She squeezes back. He listens to her breaths in the dark, feels the warmth radiating off of her. It's comforting. Grounding. He's not alone. Whatever terrors the night brings for them, they'll face it together.

He wakes up hours later, sunlight streaming into his room and the beautiful girl he'd thought he was falling for snuggled right up against his side, the two of them having moved in the night. It should be the stuff of adolescent fantasies but all he feels is a distant sort of confusion that they actually slept so long. Robin's face is smashed into his shoulder and he realizes he's been drooling into her hair, and the first thing she does when she wakes up is shriek about it.

"Ewww, gross! Seriously?!"

"I didn't do it on purpose!"

"Spit, Steve! My hair is covered in your spit!"

"Well I'm pretty sure this giant booger on my shirt isn't mine, Buckley!"

"Are you accusing me of--oh, wow that is big." Robin starts rubbing at her nose as she stalks into the bathroom and the shower starts running a moment later. He opens the door long enough to toss a clean towel onto the sink and then wanders down to the kitchen to start coffee.

She makes fun of his bedhead when she comes down the stairs, he goggles at the amount of milk and sugar she puts in her coffee. And he never makes up the guest room for her again.

*

"I am telling you, Johnson is trying to kill us with his exams! It's barely October and we've already had three!" Robin stabs angrily at the chicken cutlets in the pan with her fork, holding one up so Steve can see how brown it is on one side. At his nod, she starts flipping them over. She ducks her head without looking when he reaches over her to snag the basil out of the spice cabinet, still stirring the tomato sauce with his free hand.

"Yeah, Johnson's a dick. Glad I'm done with his class for good." He dips the spoon out of the sauce and blows on it for a moment before tasting, then holds the spoon out for Robin to lick the rest of it off.

"Mmm, more red pepper. And I know! You're so lucky. How did you even pass? Cheryl Mackey was crying in the band room after she got her test back, and she's like, straight a student all the way." Robin finishes flipping the chicken and goes back to chopping carrots for their salad.

"Oh, Robert O'Connell--the guy that works down at the Snack n' Go?--he saved all his tests from when he had Johnson a few years ago. Johnson never writes new ones. You give Robert 20 bucks, you can get any of the answer keys."

Robin sets the knife down and reaches into Steve's back pocket, pulling his wallet out. "Couldn't have told me this earlier?" she grouses, yanking two tens out and shoving the wallet back in his pocket.

"Hey, that's my gas money for the week!" He grabs the pot with the noodles off the stove and takes it to the colander waiting in the sink, sticking his ass out expectantly.

"You look like a hooker trying to pick up johns."

"Well give me at least half my gas money back so I don't have to sell my body to drive you and Henderson to school this week."

"Ugh, fine." She grabs his wallet again and stuffs one of the tens back into it. Then winds up one of his dish towels and smacks his rear end hard enough that he jumps about a foot in the air.

He dumps the drained noodles back into the pot and turns around to bring it back to the stove only to find that Robin is right behind him with the pot of sauce, apparently having been bringing it over to the sink. They collide, hard, and Robin screams bloody murder as hot spaghetti sauce gets dumped all down her front.

"Hot, hot, hot, fuck, hot!"

"Shit, hold on!" He all but tosses the pot of noodles back into the sink and snatches the sauce pot out of her hands. As soon as he does she's whipping off her shirt and grabbing the dish towel she hit him with, wiping off the smears of sauce that got onto her arms. "Did it burn you?" he asks, searching her torso for blisters, even though he knows at the back of his mind that the sauce was only on a simmer.

"No...no, I think I'm good. Damn, I liked that shirt, though." She straightens, glaring down at the sauce pot he slammed onto the counter.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

He holds his tongue for approximately zero point three seconds.

"Okay, then can we talk about this whole situation, cause I feel like I just got a major piece of the puzzle of why you don't have a girlfriend, yet. What the hell are you wearing?"

Robin's bra is so faded it's unclear what color it was originally, two large tears right above the elastic band.

Robin looks almost comically offended. "Excuse me? I'm sorry, are you commenting on my very comfortable and perfectly functional underwear?"

"Functional, yeah, if the function is 'never get laid ever'."

Robin crosses over to the doorway that leads to the laundry room. "We can't all exclusively wear Calvin Klein, Harrington!"

"How do you know what underwear I wear?"

"Am I wrong? Also, Jesus Christ do you own any normal shirts?"

"What's wrong with my shirts now? Hey, I'm not taking fashion advice from a girl in a, a grandma bra!"

"Hey!" She steps back out of the laundry room, wearing one of his old basketball team shirts.

They keep bickering back and forth as Steve tries to salvage dinner, eventually ending up just sitting on his kitchen counter dipping pieces of breaded chicken into the remains of the pasta sauce in the pot, having decided they really didn't want to eat spaghetti that had to be fished out of the sink.

"I'm not buying a bunch of frilly, sparkly lace just to wear under my clothes," Robin informs him. "That shit itches."

"Not saying you have to, but at least get something that doesn't look like it came out of the bottom of my gym bag."

"Eww, don't talk about your gym bag while I'm eating!"

*

It is a slow day in Family Video, and Robin has been casting him strangely intense looks since she came on shift. He restocks the shelves, picks through the candy to take home the almost expired shit to give to the kids, and is halfway through the rewinding before it finally gets to him.

"What?!" he demands. Robin blinks at him, immediately shrugging. A little too fast, actually.

"What, what?" she asks. He narrows his eyes at her and she ducks her head, pretending to find her biology textbook extremely interesting. He knows she's pretending because she hates biology. They're making her dissect a frog this quarter. After a few seconds, she slams the book shut and straightens up, determined look settling on her face.

Steve has just enough time to get a little nervous before she says, "How do you do the tongue thing?"

He blinks at her. "Uh...can you be more specific?"

She rolls her eyes. "You know...the thing! The thing with your tongue."

"I promise you, I do not know. What're you talking about?"

She looks around the store, as if some customers that they somehow haven't noticed in the last three hours might suddenly appear. Then she lowers her voice. "Like, sex things. With your tongue." She huffs a frustrated sigh. "They had to combine gym periods today 'cause Mrs. Hornby had to sub for Janson's history class, and Maryanne Greene was talking about how her boyfriend wouldn't go down on her and then Sue Rennet--you remember Sue? Apparently you dated her for, like, two weeks at the end of her Sophomore year--started talking about you and how you used to do that to her and it's the best sex she's ever had."

And oh...okay, he remembers Sue. Nice girl, a little ditzy, but she hadn't wanted to get more serious, and then Nancy had caught his eye. He can't help but puff up a little. Sure, Hawkins isn't exactly a big city overrun with choices, and judging by the talk he remembers from his own locker room days, he's a little bit of an outlier as far as being concerned with making sure his partners are having as good a time as he is...but to be called the best someone has ever had is nice.

"Don't let it go to your head," Robin says, because she can read his mind quite a lot of the time. "Just...tongue thing. You know, in case I ever do get a shot with, literally anyone."

He softens at that, reaches across the counter to ruffle her hair because it annoys her as much as it annoys him when someone does that. "You will," he says softly, and thinks that he would give almost anything, would probably happily trade any shot at happiness for himself if he could make sure Robin had someone to love her the way she deserves to be loved. He grabs one of her school notebooks and tears a sheet out, grabbing a pen out of the cup beside the computer.

"Okay, so, first things first, you can't just dive right in--gotta get the motor warmed up a little first--"

"Please don't talk in car analogies the whole time," Robin says, leaning in as he draws a crude (heh, see what he did there?) sketch of what he's going to be talking about.

"Noted. So what you're gonna do is start with a little massage around this area," he points with the end of the pen, "really take your time, get things nice and slick..."

He talks, Robin listening intently and occasionally asking questions.

"No you don't--flutter your tongue, flutter it. Here, like this..."

"Okay, vibration is good, but you're not, like, trying to blow a raspberry on her clit--"

"I said flutter!"

And that is how Lucas and Dustin find them about forty minutes later: Steve with his mouth held open wide, demonstrating what he means by fluttering his tongue while Robin stares at it like it holds the secrets of the universe, pen in hand as she takes furious notes.

In retrospect, he supposes he should be grateful that Lucas didn't immediately join Dustin on the 'Steve and Robin are totally dating' train.

*

"Shit! Steve! Wake up, it's Wednesday!"

Steve's eyes shoot open and he's vertical before he's fully awake, reaching for the nailbat propped up by his bedside table, but it's not there. It's...his bedside table isn't there either.

What the fuck, where's his bed?

"Steve!" Robin shouts, and he blinks rapidly, his surroundings resolving themselves into his...living room?

"What...Rob, what the hell? You're on winter break! You don't have school today?"

Ugh, why does his mouth taste like something died? He looks around the room, at the piles of dusty boxes that look like they came from...

Oh.

Oh yeah.

He and Robin had spent yesterday dragging the Harrington family Christmas decorations down from the attic because Robin said his house looked like a sad capitalism museum and she refused to spend the holidays in a place that didn't have a single Christmas light up. And then they'd found Steve's grandmother's recipe for homemade eggnog. And he'd maybe experimented a little bit with the liquor ratios...they must have fallen asleep on the couch.

"We don't have school but we both promised Keith we'd open all this week!" Robin shouts.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

They're still dressed in their clothes from yesterday. And they smell like a goddamn distillery. Without thinking about it, he grabs her hand and starts hauling her upstairs. "Shit, shit, shit."

"Fuck, shit, fuck!" she agrees as they rocket into the bathroom. Steve starts the water while Robin yanks clean towels out of the linen closet. "Do you have pants I can wear?" she asks, tossing the towels onto the sink and stripping out of her shirt.

"Yeah, I've got those jeans from, like, three years ago. Those fit you pretty well, right?" He tosses his own jeans and boxers towards the laundry hamper, followed by his shirt, and jumps into the shower, adjusting the temperature hotter than he likes it, because Robin's a weirdo who likes to boil herself in the mornings.

"Good enough!" Robin leaps in after him and they squeeze under the spray just long enough to get hair and body wet before separating somewhat so Robin can start scrubbing herself and he can get started on his hair. "Why didn't you set an alarm?"

"Me? Why didn't you set an alarm? You're the one who wanted to take the shifts!"

"Like you're gonna turn down holiday pay."

"It's Keith! Holiday pay probably means a buy one get one coupon to Pizza World up the highway!" He sticks his head under the water again to rinse his hair out and they switch places.

"Are you saying you wouldn't take a buy one get one coupon to Pizza World?"

"I mean...no?"

They switch places again so that Steve can rinse the soap off his body and then it's a race to get dried off, teeth brushed, dressed, and out to the car so they can get to the store in time. It's only as they are piling out of the BMW in front of Family Video that it seems to occur to them both at the same time what they just did. They both pause, mid-step and turn to each other wide-eyed.

"Huh," Steve says quietly.

"Yeah," Robin answers.

Then they shrug and continue towards the store entrance, making it in with exactly three and a half minutes to spare.

*

"Steve I really think if you're worried about this, you should be talking to a doctor, not me," Robin says, peering at a medical journal she checked out from the library spread out over her lap. "Has it changed color or shape recently?"

"I don't know, maybe? I've got so many moles, it's hard to keep track."

"Any pain or tenderness?" She reaches out and taps his hip so that he turns a little more towards the light cast by her desk lamp.

"No, definitely not. I was just having, you know, private time in the shower and it looked weird to me when I looked down."

Robin hums thoughtfully and pokes at the weird-looking mole on Steve's groin. "I mean, it doesn't look like any of these pictures of bad moles, but if you think it looks different to how it used to, you should probably get it check out regardless."

"Damn it, I was afraid you'd say that," he sighs. She shuts the medical journal and props her chin on one hand as he pulls his pants back up.

"Should I call and make the appointment?"

He huffs and flops back down onto her bed. "Yes please," he grumbles. He never remembers to write down all the appointment details.

"You want me to book something over spring break so I can go with you?"

"Nah, just whatever's available soonest. I'd rather not sit around and stress about it."

It turns out to be nothing to worry about. But three weeks later, Dustin and Max come bursting into Family Video while he and Robin are watching a new report about a brutal murder, and Steve is wishing all he had to stress about was a maybe-weird mole on his dick.

*

It's not like no one was aware that Steve and Robin were...perhaps unusually close friends. It was just never much of an issue (except to Dustin, who was obsessed with the idea of the two of them getting together) before the events of the spring of '86 and after...

Well.

Who cared how weirdly codependent Steve and Robin were when Max and Eddie had nearly died and the Upside Down was bursting up into the real Hawkins? Honestly, if that was the weirdest thing about them after all they've been through, he'd count that pretty lucky.

After everything, though--after they put Vecna/Henry Creel/One/Whatever in the fucking ground, after they do what Steve was beginning to think was impossible and seal the Upside Down away from them forever, after Max is as recovered as she's ever going to be (she's probably never going to be able to get a driver's license even with glasses, and her doctors tell them the leg braces and crutches might have to be permanent, but she's alive...she's alive, she's alive, she's alive), after Robin finally feels safe enough to come out to the group at large, after Steve spends an entire week holed up in his room screaming into his pillow while Robin patted his back consolingly before marching down to Eddie's new (government-funded) trailer and announcing that it turns out he likes both and would Eddie please go on a date with him...

He thinks maybe Eddie didn't quite understand what he was getting into when he agreed almost before Steve was done asking him out.

"Uh...hey guys," Eddie says slowly, taking in the picture he and Robin present in Steve's kitchen. There's a bag of cucumbers, a few eggplants, and several bananas spread out on the island in front of them. Robin has a tape measure and a homemade pamphlet acquired from a very exclusive shop they traveled to Indianapolis to visit last weekend. Steve is holding up two of the cucumbers for comparison. "What's, uh, what's going on here?"

Steve and Robin exchange a look. Then Steve jumps up and snatches the tape measure out of her hands. "Perfect! Here, Eds, lemme measure you." He reaches for Eddie's belt, only to freeze with a look of annoyance when his boyfriend jumps back with a yelp.

"Whoa! Whoa, hey, baby, I have no idea what you're talking about and also Robbie's right there!"

"What? Oh it's fine, Rob and I have seen each other naked plenty of times."

"Ask me about the time we accidentally showered together," Robin pipes up with a grin.

"Wait, no...wait, what? How do you accidentally shower together?" Eddie asks incredulously. Then he shakes his head. "Wait, no! No, not important. Robin has never seen me naked, and I am not whipping my dick out in front of your best friend so you can measure it! And why do you want to measure it?"

"Well I was trying to just guesstimate how big you are," Steve says, gesturing to the array of produce on the island, "but it'll be easier if I can just get the numbers from the source."

"Why do you need exact measurements of my dick?!" Eddie's eyes have gone wide as dinner plates, his voice reaching an octave usually reserved for his female NPC's in his nerd game. Steve huffs.

"Babe, you said you want to fuck me, but like, all these guides say we should work up to it." He jerks a thumb back over his shoulder at the pamphlet that Robin is now helpfully holding up. "So I'm gonna figure out exactly how big you are, and then Rob and I are gonna go up to this shop we found in Indy and get some of these toys. It's supposed to help me get used to things being, you know, up there."

Robin nods seriously.

Eddie looks at him. Looks at Robin. Looks back at him.

Steve has never seen someone look touched and horrified at the same time. Eddie rakes a hand back through his hair and sighs.

"What...what measurements do you need, exactly?"

[katyawriteswhump]

Freestyle love (Steddie holiday drabble)

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 22 prompt, Sports AU.

Nobody ever wanted Eddie Munson on their swim squad, and uni competition was no different. Until Steve Harrington decided to play by the rules.

WC: 966. Rating: T.

CW: none really. Tags: Enemies to lovers, whump, university/college AU.

***

"Munson's freestyle times smash half the teams.'" Steve pushed his wet hair from his eyes, double-checked the stopwatch. “He’s in."

"That science geek pond-scum?” asked Steve's swim co-captain, standing with him beside the pool. "No way. You read the numbers backwards again, Harrington?"

"Shut up. I’m calling this one."

When Steve broke the news, Munson pulled off his swim-cap and a mass of dark, damp hair tumbled out. “One of your teammates said my tats automatically disqualify me,” said Munson.

“That’s bullshit.” Steve actually found Munson’s freaky tattoos bizarrely compelling. Oh, and the body beneath—all lean rope-like muscle, not massive shoulders, but a decent swimmer’s physique. “We need you. You beat most of the sports scholarship guys.”

“I know.” Munson shrugged. “And you can take my place on your dumb squad and stuff it up their buttholes.”

“What the heck, man? Why did you trial, if you don’t want in?”

“To show you over-privileged frat-house dicks you ain’t special. I qualify every year—you’re just the first knucklehead to notice. Anyhooo.” He poked his tongue out stupidly. Steve planted his hands on his hips and couldn’t glare harder. “I’m off to Who Soc.”

“What Soc?”

Munson’s shoulder clipped Steve’s as he passed—possibly an accident, but he nearly toppled Steve into the pool.

“Screw you, man! Crawl back to your den of Satanist freaks, like I care.”

“Yeah?” Munson poked out his tongue again, wiggled his fingers. “Hexing you, Harrington. Oooooh, bet you’re pissing yourself.”

***

Eddie had simply been getting one back for the little guys, against all those over-pumped numbskulls. 

He still felt bad when he heard what happened at the inter-state semis—some moron dived into the pool on top of Harrington in the shallow end, breaking his leg.

It bugged Eddie. So much he wound up visiting Steve at the hospital.

When Eddie sidled into Steve’s room, Steve’s pale face—peeking from behind his plastered leg in traction—said it all: What the heck?

“Hey,” mumbled Eddie. “Guess I’m the last person you expected.”

“On my list of expected visitors, you were somewhere below Elvis.” Harrington seemed pissed. Also genuinely bewildered.

He was still sexy as hell.

Especially now Eddie couldn’t find it in his cold, metal-loving heart to hate the guy. Mmmm, and was it kinda wrong to wanna lick those well-muscled arms, and picture him shirtless… even when Harrington glowered at him from a hospital bed?

Eddie raised his palms in half-hearted surrender. “I owe you an explanation. I’ve been doing swim trials since Middle School. My time is always good—the place I grew up in was right by a lake—yet nobody ever gave me my place on the squad before. This face never fits.” He gurned a silly grin. “Then you went and flew in the face of all the laws in the universe and offered me ‘in.’ I guess it... blew me away.”

“I was only following the goddamn rules.” Steve grumpily puffed his flatter-than-usual hair from his eyes.

“Yeah, and I was a dick, and the Hex thing was dumb. I didn’t really… you know…”

“I don’t blame you for my stupid accident.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Contrary to popular opinion, I'm not a complete moron. I'm scraping a pass in English Lit, okay?” As the atmosphere softened, Eddie shuffled nearer Steve’s bed. “Good job. Who's gonna keep me here on a sports scholarship now?”

“Sorry, man.”

“Jesus, it’s not your fault!” Up close, Harrington looked exhausted, possibly even in pain, with dark smudgy shadows around his eyes. “You know, you can do something to make this less shit.”

Eddie’s heart squeezed oddly—gratefully? “What?”

“Take my place in the squad.” Steve mumbled toward hands clasped in his lap. “I recorded your times, made it official. The place is yours to claim. I'd tell the team myself… if any of them came to visit.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Nobody’s got time for a swim co-captain who’ll never swim competitively again.” 

A lump clogged Eddie’s throat. Harrington’s face worked strangely, too… Shit, shit, shit! Eddie reached out, tentatively squeezed Steve’s shoulder. Steve looked up sharply, eyes large and liquid. Damn, the boy was tense.

“That stinks,” said Eddie.

“Yeeeah.” Steve’s laugh was shaky, while Eddie’s mind raced: 

“Dude, I’m in a ton of non-sports societies. D & D, model-making, Who Soc… Uh, maybe not that one for you. I can bring a few of the guys and gals here, see if you get into anything.”

“I don’t need YOU to find me friends.” Harrington’s spikiness proved short-lived. He unleashed a resigned sigh: “Look, man, I’m not exactly in the mood for parties, but… If you wanna come back… that would be cool.”

Suddenly, neither of them could look at each other. Eddie’s face was burning. Could he actually be into me?

“Tho’ if you’re not fresh from swim practice when you arrive, I’m not interested, Munson.”

Eddie hooted: “You blackmailing me?”

“I can play dirty, ya know, buck expectations, too.” Steve went in for the kill. He smiled up at Eddie, a proper, hot-as-hell smile, which reached his too-pretty brown eyes. 

Is he hitting on me?!? Eddie gawked like a goldfish.

“See you tomorrow?”

***

On the day of the national finals, Steve watched from the stands. When Eddie slammed home for victory on the final leg of the freestyle relay, Steve was on his feet—okay, propped by his crutches—cheering his head off.

As soon as Eddie could get away, he clambered, wet and dripping, through to the rear of the stands and planted an even wetter kiss on Steve's lips. Steve threw his arms around his boyfriend. It was great to finally be with somebody to whom only the real things in life mattered. 

"Love you, Champ," he whispered in Eddie’s ear.

"Love you, too." Eddie kissed him again.

Victory had never felt so hot.

***

Thanks for reading :) Also part of my steve whump fic series (mainly steddie) on ao3

[takerfoxx]

Okay.

I don't often gush about movies on this blog. Hell, I don't often go to the movies anymore. I just don't have the attention span for it. And I honestly was going to give this one a miss until someone who's opinion I trust was adamant that I needed to see this film right now on the biggest screen possible while I still had the chance. So, FOMO out won over, and I went to go see Godzilla Minus One in Imax.

...

Look, I've been a Godzilla fan practically all my life. My family used to rent those old english dubs of the films on VHS from Blockbuster in the early nineties. I grew up with these monsters. But I have to admit, I've never seen the original, nor have I seen Shin Godzilla. To me, Godzilla is about one thing and one thing only.

Fuck.

Yeah.

Gimme the big monsters just going HAM on each other. Rubber suits, CGI, I don't care! I want the big boys with beef to beef with a large side of cheese!

I guess that's why Godzilla 2014 ultimately left me feeling kind of cold while I absolutely loved KOTM despite how stupid a lot of it was. I just want my big monsters absolutely wrecking shit.

This was different. I knew it was going to be different. A remake of the original Godzilla, this time from the viewpoint of the common citizens still trying to get their lives together after WW2? I knew I was in for some heavy drama.

What I didn't expect was one of the most amazing theater experience I have ever had.

And I'm not just saying that because the movie is good, even though it is.

I'm not just saying that because the movie is great, even though it is.

I'm not just saying that because it's a goddamn masterpiece, even though it is.

I'm saying that because it's about as close to perfect of a film as you can get, and not just of a Godzilla movie, but just as a movie!

Like, it's a running joke that you can cut the human characters out of any Godzilla movie. Here, you could cut Godzilla out and still have a great movie. That's how good the human side of things was.

Like, you really grow attached to these people who have literally lost everything. You grow invested in their struggles, in their relationships, in their baggage, in their love for one another. You come to care about them and are genuinely happy as they eke out a new life after having their homes literally blown to bits. You just want to see them succeed and be happy together.

And that's when Godzilla shows up.

This movie is called Godzilla Minus One in reference to how post-war Japan was basically a Zero Society, left devastated by the conflict. And these people who literally were left with nothing suddenly find even that ripped away as an enormous monster just starts rampaging through the recovering cities.

And this time, Godzilla isn't an avenging hero. He's not a destructive anti-hero. He's not a fun mascot. He's not even a poor, suffering monster unaware of the destruction that he's wreaking. This Godzilla is goddamn menace, an outright monster that is absolutely terrifying. He wants to crush, kill, and destroy. This is Godzilla at his most actively malicious, and all you can do is gape up in horror with these people that you've come to care so much about, wondering how in the hell are they supposed to deal with this!

I won't give away how the day is eventually saved, only to say that it is a masterclass of character-driven suspense and emotion. You honestly come to root for the humans for once. You want to see them succeed, and are genuinely in fear for their lives. No exaggeration, I had my heart in my throat and tears in my eyes all throughout the climax. I don't cry during movies, and this movie made me sob like a baby. It was that good.

And it also had so much to say! Not only about Japan's collective trauma following the nuclear bombs or the other bombing raids like the original, but also about how the Japanese government dehumanized its own people during the war, treating them as expendable resources to fuel the war machine. The main character is a freaking kamikaze pilot who lost his nerve and abandoned his mission, and that plus another act of what he saw as cowardice haunts him throughout the movie, and while it realistically shows how such a person would be treated like a pariah by his former friends and neighbors, it is nothing but sympathetic toward him. He blames himself constantly, but the narrative never seems to.

And there's just this wonderful moment near the end, when it's clear that the government isn't coming to the rescue, so it's up to the common man to band together and find a solution, when a few men leave the mission for fear of their lives and that of their families, and are not condemned for it. And the scientist spearheading the whole thing gives this lovely little speech about how carelessly life has been treated during the war, from the kamikazes to the poorly maintained supply chains to how the common folk were left to fend for themselves, and he hopes to just once be able to secure a win that doesn't sacrifice any more lives. Wow.

I know it's probably too late for anyone else to see it, because I'm pretty sure it's theatrical run ends today. I just wanted to get this review off my chest, because wow, this was the best movie I've seen all year. What a goddamn masterpiece.

[miraclewoozi]

(TEASER) HIGH FIDELITY. - c.hs

getting back on the horse is hard, and failing to hit it off with the cute gamer guy you went for a drink with last night has the potential to be your love life’s last straw. but when up and coming rockstar VERNON unexpectedly canters into your life, you find yourself asking very important question: do you have it in you to saddle up, one more time?

pair ; vernon x fem reader. ( also starring: besties!seungkwan + chan. ) content ; strangers to lovers. up-and-coming musician!vernon x record store owner!reader.  fluff, angst, smut. (MINORS DNI). slow burn.  warnings ; drinking + alcohol is a theme throughout. mentions of a past relationship breakdown. reader experiences a lot of stress, anxiety and feelings of doubt. reader is the monarch of self sabotage. wc ; teaser, 1.5k. full fic, est. 40k. note ; if you saw any of my posts about the show high fidelity… you’ll know where this came from. ( it doesn't stick to rob + liam's plot too closely with the exception of the first few encounters. )

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

“It’s just my opinion!” 

From your perch on top of the store’s counter, you raise both of your palms in a display of your innocence. Chan stands in the middle of the R&B aisle, looking personally offended, fingers curled around the top of one of the wooden crates holding your stock. 

“Me saying ‘I don’t think Welcome to the Black Parade is the best track on that album’ is not me saying that it’s a bad song.”

“But how can you say that?” Chan groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Who’s hearing the opening note to Famous Last Words and feeling the same way as they do with the Black Parade?”

“Most iconic doesn’t mean the best,” you counter. “Besides – I never said you weren’t allowed to have it as your favourite. It’d be a boring game if we all had the same answer.”

“I cannot cope with you anymore,” Chan whines. “You know what? No. I don’t even believe you. You’re just being a contrarian.”

“Why would I do that?” you ask. 

“Because it’s the best song on the goddamn albu–”

The bell above the door chimes loud and clear through the store and both of your squabbling voices fall silent. Your head turns in the direction of the entrance, an autopilot greeting already forming on your lips, but you feel them fall slack the moment you realise who it is that’s just walked in.

It’s been five days. Though it would be a mistruth to claim you hadn’t thought about the singer since the night of his gig, it’s not one to say you didn’t think he would ever actually come into your place of work. 

Much less at 3 o’clock in the afternoon. On a Thursday.

He pops his wrists as he walks a little further into the store, glancing around. Barring one of your regulars who walks about with his earphones in all the time, the store is completely empty; an adrenaline spike prickles the hairs on your arms, all the tiny muscles beneath your skin pulling them to stand upright. 

“Hi,” he says once he deems himself to be close enough, stopping in his tracks and bumping the toe of his shoe against the floor.

“Hey,” you greet him in return. 

“I’m-... Vernon. We met at the show, the other night?” 

“Yeah — yeah, I remember you,” you smile. “I’m-... well. I’m still y/n.”

“Still y/n,” he says on a relieved exhale, grinning and glancing away from you. “I uh… I just had some free time. Thought I’d swing by and see what you guys had going on here.” Vernon adjusts the collar of his t-shirt, the silver of his rings glinting under the flickering yellow light overhead.

(It was definitely somewhere on your list of things to get fixed. Honest.)

“Sure, yeah,” you nod, swallowing hard and trying your best not to stare at him. It’s hard, though – in broad daylight, the way the flannel tied around his waist floats down over his hips and the way his jeans hug at his thighs is… you don't even have the words. “Let me know if you need help finding anything, okay?” 

“I will.” He starts to thumb through one of the wooden boxes, offering a small smile your way. “Thank you.”

You’re holding your breath a little as he pulls a few 80’s rock albums out, his lips downturned in surprised approval at some of the records you carry. He holds onto a couple as he moves around the store and the entire time, you can feel Chan and Seungkwan staring at you. If there wasn’t a very real danger of Vernon looking your way again at a moment’s notice, you know you would be showing them your middle finger.

Really, they come away lucky.

“You don’t even know how long I’ve been trying to find some of these,” Vernon says after a few minutes, sauntering toward the desk – you’re still sitting on top of it, your legs swinging in the air beneath you. “Might have to make this my new stop.”

And displayed beside you on the counter – right by the cash register – are a few of his albums. The ones Seungkwan picked up after the show; until about two seconds ago, you had forgotten they were even there.

Vernon’s face lights up when he notices, turning to Seungkwan. “Come on, no way. Dude, I thought you were kidding.”

“We love our locals in here, man,” Chan chimes quickly, seeing you start to freeze up. You nod to agree, biting on the inside of your cheek. “It was on the speakers yesterday. Four people asked us about you.”

“For real?” Vernon asks, but when all three of you nod your heads, you see the beginnings of a blush start to creep up his neck. “Wow. Thank you – um. That’s really cool of you guys.”

“It’s good music,” Seungkwan shrugs. “You’re super talented.”

Vernon doesn’t seem to know what to do with all the compliments he’s receiving. Even so, he thanks your friends again with a stomach-twisting sincerity before he turns back to you. 

“I’ll take these,” he says a little breathlessly. You find yourself a tiny bit lost in the warmth of his eyes and it takes you a moment to remember to swivel around and slip off the other side of the countertop. You do, though. Eventually. 

“Nice,” you say softly as you shuffle through them, ringing each one through. He’s got pretty decent taste, even if less than a week ago you were actively cringing at his choice of cover song. (It’s okay. That was before you knew better.) “Do you– need sleeves, or…?”

“I’m good. Thank you, though.” Vernon rests his hands against the edge of the counter and drums a quiet rhythm out with his thumbs as you tap away at the register. “Are-... you guys busy tonight, by the way?”

You look up from placing the records into a paper bag, glancing over to your colleagues who both rush to shake their heads. Vernon looks from them, to you, and you mirror their motions. Even if I was, you start to think wistfully. I’d make time.

“I’m down at the Velvet Lounge later on. Across town? It starts at eight thirty; I could get you guys on the list, if-... um…”

“That’d be awesome,” Chan says, nodding so hard you’re surprised his head doesn’t roll off his shoulders and start bouncing across the floor. 

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Seungkwan adds. 

Vernon grins at them both, humming softly, before turning back to you and fumbling with his wallet to take out his card to pay for his purchases. You turn the machine around to face him; he hovers with his hand just above it. 

“Maybe… I’ll see you tonight, too?” He says.

You can’t help the delight that rises inside you, as if it’s been injected straight into your bloodstream. It’s everywhere, all of a sudden. In your brain and your heart and your bones and in your lungs.

Yet, you somehow manage to keep your composure when you say, “yeah. Maybe you will.”

The payment goes through and you slide the bag over towards Vernon, your eyes never leaving his and his eyes never leaving yours. His fingers brush over yours as he takes it from you, the bite of the cold ring on his index finger a shocking contrast to the warmth the rest of his hand radiates. You hope your little gasp isn’t too audible, but… the way Chan whirls around to face away from the scene in front of him (presumably to poorly conceal his laughter), you know you haven’t gotten away with it.

“Cool,” he says, hesitating another second before finally pulling himself away. He bows his head in the direction of your friends, sending another of those irresistibly sweet smiles at you, and then he starts off towards the door. “See you, then.”

You feel your pulse finally start to slow as you grip the counter for dear life, setting out a long, drawn-out breath. What just happened? Why do you feel all… fuzzy?

“Maybe… I’ll see you tonight, too?” Chan asks in the deepest voice he can muster, snapping you out of your own head none too pleasantly. You turn in their direction as your other favourite moron feigns tucking hair behind his ear and flutters his eyelashes across at Chan.

“Yeah… Maybe you will.” And Seungkwan’s imitation of you is a little too accurate. Creepily so, and you want to curse him out for it. Instead, you scrunch up a bag to throw towards the pair of them, grinning despite yourself as they both swerve to dodge it.

“Oh my God, shut up,” you chastise them. You don’t have any bite, though, your brain still tingly and positively reeling and seeing Vernon’s dazzling smile every time you so much as blink.  And when Seungkwan takes a running start and launches himself, full-force, into Chan’s unsuspecting arms? When Chan lifts him up and spins him around, and when they start making kissy-noises at each other between unearthly cackles? 

You know that the next few hours are going to be the longest of your entire life.

thank u for reading!! i hope you liked this lil snippet!! i got kind of impatient with myself and needed to post something about this, so if you're interested in the full fic please feel free to drop a like, an ask, a reblog or a comment to tell me your thoughts! this piece has become sort of my passion project the last six months or so and i'm really excited to share the whole thing with you guys when it's done.<3

[poisoned-pearls]

I have a list of "straight people I respect" and I think I should add momo and okarun

editors note: the list is more of a joke as I have not actually made the list yet. But it exists in my mind

YES ABSOLUTELY. Dude they’re so good

okarun consistently respects momo’s privacy and never sexualizes her. Their first ever real encounter she was stuck in her underwear and was almost assaulted and not only does he tweak the fuck out to protect her (a stranger that was nice to him) he then immediately hands her his own clothes to help her not be basically naked. he also refers to her SOLELY as miss ayase, or Ayase-San, as respect. When he transforms his personality changes a bit, but he is STILL more respectful to her then anyone else, calling her momo-Chan while everybody else just is their first name. The most DEROGATORY thing he’s ever called her is BABE and that was more of a “ur a babe” thing, rather then as like. Baby. ITS ALSO NOT JUST MOMO. HE RESPECTS EVERY WOMAN HE COMES ACROSS. That man has never ONCE looked at any woman inappropriately and it SHOWS

he ALWAYS makes an effort to communicate (they both do) and there’s this one scene-

and while it’s a little bit of that “misunderstanding happens and one won’t talk” it’s also REASONABLE AND RESOLVED LIKE A DAY LATER. Aira WAS trying to kiss him when she saw them.

He then IMMEDIATELY apologizes for touching her

Jumps in front of her to save her from a shot and then IMMEDIATELY pulls back and apologizes again. It’s this man’s first instinct to keep her safe AGAIN and AGAIN. He’s so sweet dude I love okarun #1 okarun defender

also- momo is gyaru! She is feisty and an ACTUAL character with depth and they have a great dynamic. AND okarun gets along with her friends. Her friends think of him as her bf. They’ve jumped in multiple times to be like “NU UH SHES GOT OKARUN-“

And hes tbe first person to defend her, EVERY time

HE WAS SO EXCITED TO HAVE A FRIEND HE DIDNT EVEN CONSIDER ROMANTIC ATTRACTION. HE DOESNT EVEN LOOK AT OTHER GIRLS THIS MAN IS HER GUARD DOG. AND HES WILLING TO SCRAP UP FOR SOMEONE CALLING HER A SLUT

Momos got such a good heart for him too. Like one of their first moments apart she’s just ITCHING to talk to him abt HIS interests. They’ve spent an entire lunch period looking for the other. They’ve been tossed into a bad situation and they’ve been locked in since. She’s helping him find his goddamn balls and it’s so funny bc she acts like a friend would first

These guys are weirdos and it’s great. They’re friends first and like. Actual real people. It’s great

(Also fair warning for anyone interested in the show, first ep has some near sexual assault that can be a lot for some people, which is reasonable. And overall has themes around consent and compassion, but overall in my opinion does a good enough job in the story of desexualizing bodies that when characters end up like. In their underwear it’s either a moment to show someone caring, not an issue, or used for comedy)

Also manga spoilers of more things I like under the cut

This is one of my favorite moments. That man’s abt to go crazy. He was gonna tweak out on him but he immediately went to covering momo and making sure she’s okay…. Whahhh

Grabs and protects her again. This whole arc has moments where the ONLY thing he cares abt is her

I love momo too she’s hilarious. “Gimme a proper confession and also don’t cheat on me before I can get back to normal size. THEN we can kiss”

ARAUAAAAGHH

This whole fight this man is protecting her first and willingly being her shield. This man met one woman who was nice to him (he chose right) and has been defending her like his life depends on it since

[ashiyn]

okay so you love last life. it's personally my least favourite season of the life series so NOT YUCKING YOUR YUM I'd really like to know what about it you love. because me and my sister have been trying to work out why so many people really like it. if that's cool with you :)

okay okay so my brain is slightly messy and foggy due to a flare and new meds situation so bear with me and my rambles possibly not making any sense!

so going into this, i am aware that i do possibly have the sentimental value of last life being the first life series season that i watched live and the excitement it gave me waiting each week for a new episode. i was not however in the fandom space at the time!

so first of all martyn is my all time favorite life series pov, i love his bad jokes, the bits he plays, his video editing, the way he socializes and the sneakiness he manages to pull off. i also do like his lore quite a bit! i personally feel like martyns last life has a bit of the perfect combo of all this combined! (and unpopular opinion but i also really like martyns face cam, i miss it dearly). so his last life pov is one i've rewatched the most out of any life series ever, i just keep coming back to it!

i really loved the concepts of last life with the boggieman, being able to give a life away and the randomized amount of lives in the beginning. the boogieman gave the series so much more drama and there was no "we're all green so its safe and calm" feeling to it. everyone was kinda constantly on edge or suspicious of each other, which i know not everyone was a fan of, but i thought it was fun to watch and made me seek out other povs to see how each team handled the situation of the boogie each week. i liked having a life as a currency cause it felt more valuable than some object in the game, and it again gave the season more suspense in a way.

the teamups!!! gosh i loved the teams. so much spanned from last life that still gets referenced in newer seasons. the southlanders was such a mess. the bad puns never failed to make me laugh. jimmys whole arc of getting cast out and then being put on trial to join again. they never really trusted each other. the bit of always getting rid of jimmys spyglasses. "do u wanna kiss" mumbo jumbo. "we can still be friends mumbo" after grian went red moment. the "yeah well my diamonds are RIGHT HERE!!" moment. (just grumbo in general i mean what can i say. im their biggest fan). the goddamn breakup and remarriage of etho and bdubs every single episode in that goddamn snow fort had me in shambles i tell you. they made me go insane. "he loves me! he cares! he does!" bdubs about etho. like ok. ok ok ok. cool. sick even. team best with their stupid tnt canon that didn't do shit. incredible work. the birth (i THINK) of the codeword banana that gets used to this day by these clowns. the fairyfort and ren's awkward roleplaying with bigb and lizzie. BIGBS BETRAYAL TO CLEO. HELLOOO. PEAK CINEMA. cleo's "do me a favor. die for me." i-fucking-conic. the origin of gaslight gatekeep girlboss teamup of scott pearl and cleo. incredibly fun to watch. (pearls boogie trap with the dancefloor was so good. kept me on the edge of my seat). THE WIZARDS!!! loved ever pathetic attempt joel made at making traps. and that one time he screamed to the point of getting lightheaded once a trap actually worked. every joel and lizzie interaction was GOLDEN. "ive always liked red names... bad boys." "that's awkward." crying. scar's wizard arc was amazing, such a fun pov to watch. everyone being silly and not following the rules while using scar's enchanting service.

i loved the map seed and the bases this season as well! loved scar's wizards hat on the magical mountain, the ugly but charming southlander towers, the fairy fort, the shadow tower, the snow fortress, the bridge house, jimmys stupid exile shack and the scottage. a lot of circular walls surrounding their bases! i liked the "aesthetic" it made, the dark oak forest, utilizing the mountain, the paths between the bases. i feel like it created an amazing vibe!

the use of end crystals (mumbos boogie kill!!), the wither skill gathering and then the actual wither fight, the wizard theme.. its all so purple coded and ive loved seeing it in fanart and animatics. not to mention that my favorite animatics are of last life in general and i still gush over a lot of them! the ethubs last life fanfics are either pure "i gotta book a therapy appointment due to this angst" or pure crackfics and no in-between. incredible work really.

i don't know, i love the charm of last life, every single pov is great and its such a gem to me! i think it just hit with my personal favorite things that i always enjoy in any other show or move that i watch.

[tbhimnoteasyonmyself]

THEORY TIME: KENG IS DEAD AND H(A)UNTING

So: this week's episode was a big load of

But, in the famous words of MCR: we all carry on~~

Jin saw Keng in the temple, right? We all remember that. But Phee did NOT (or so he claims). And that's not because Phee didn't know him, because he absolutely did. So what does that mean?

For once, I am a "there's a paranormal something going on in here" so Imma get right on and say that is a ghost. And they're being haunted. So why would the ghost not appear to Phee?

Well, we ALL (enphasizing this for the people claiming Non is a cheater and fundamentally misunderstanding power dynamics and minor abuse) know Keng gets to abuse Non because he's extremely vulnerable. Phee, by removing himself from the equation, and thus taking away the only voice of reason Non actually made an effort to try and listen to, he's making him all the more vulnerable. Hence, enabling Keng's abuse even further. So, seemingly, from what we know until now, Keng has no reason to dislike Phee.

On the other hand, Jin recorded him and Non (even if he did not publish it and it was Tee [as some speculate due to the accusation that Fluke makes back in the present] or someone else). That was an act against him. (and we can all hate him for it, after all, he was an asshole for doing it, but the truth is that boy was living in his BL bubble and his entire world fucking shattered in that moment and I can't think that must be easy)

If we take that, we can justify Jin's guilt in the present and how he's always going on about "being a coward" and "dead weight". But also possibly speculate about his guilt in the past.

If you did nothing to help when he was bullied and then recorded your friend (and crush) in that kind of situation, wouldn't you feel guilty?? And if you knew Non was dating Phee and they broke up because of that asshole Keng, wouldn't you be raging and boiling?? I would.

Honestly, I think we can consider murder here, tbh. So much cowardice is returned in bravery the day Jin loses his goddamn mind and kills Keng to try and defend Non. Obviously though, if that happened, we can assume it went wrong (they couldn't hide the body, Non was framed for the murder, Jin ran away and left him to take the blame, Non ended up killing himself because he was attached to his groomer whom he now saw as his lifeline, etc... idk, there's a number of possibilities). Point is: Keng is probably dead, in my opinion. And he's on the h(a)unt.

This would also explain the hand on Tee during ep.1: Keng is a known perv. He's fucking weird. Sure, he seems to be more of a pedo and all, but young adults (as they are in the present) are still considerably younger than he would be. Plus, they were his students and I feel like that matters to him as well (because again: fucking creep).

So what about Non?

Tbh, I don't know. He could be alive (as the killer or not), he could be institutionalized (as @fracturediron suggests in this post), he could be dead... Idk. We'll have to wait and see what this bs happening to him all leads to. Idk. I seriously don't know. It's a mystery to me and if y'all are more capable than me, pls go ahead and speculate, bc I can't.

Either way: great episode this week. Can't wait to see where this series is going.

[pardonmydelays]

There hasn't been much news about him [LMM] lately for a while now until this month, so it's understandable to lose interest (I guess is the right term) in him and his projects. Warriors is definitely a huge step back for him! If he really is collaborating with Taylor Swift on this like we all began to speculate in April, then I would have rather it been some extended version of her song from TTPD featuring him. He is extremely capable of writing songs and creating characters for original musicals (even if they are based on a film or novel), and it just disappoints me that he went this route instead of spend his time and energy on a new original musical. Give me a reason to go to New York! I'm still going to to try and go next year anyway because there's a musical I really want to see (and because I am in dire need of going back), but I'm trying to get into musicals more and Lin just kinda ✨ threw away his shot ✨ with this one. As for Disney, yeah, I'm not entirely excited about that too, especially seeing that he probably chose Mufasa: The Lion King over Moana 2. I love "We Know the Way" and "An Innocent Warrior" the most! And "You're Welcome" and "How Far I'll Go". Bro really could've given us more songs like those in Moana 2... I'm sure the music will be good regardless, but it just lowkey sucks that he didn't write any of them.

I hope he has more, EXCITING projects coming up that he's been keeping a secret...

literally all of this - i agree with every single one of your words and i'm glad someone who's also a fan of his work has pretty much the same opinion about all of this (the warriors, collab with taylor, moana 2). there's really nothing more to say about this. we just have to wait and see what happens.

i don't think losing interest would be the right term in my case tho... it's actually more than that and i don't even know if i want to talk about it, but maybe i should. this fandom fucking destroyed my mental health to the point i don't want to be a member of this community anymore. i'm still a fan. i still follow him and i still love his work. i'm trying to keep up with all the updates. i know everyone here probably thinks i just found myself a new obsession and this is the reason i don't talk about lin anymore. trust me, i listened to in the heights the other day and i started sobbing like a goddamn clown. i still love him and i always will. i think it all went down when i created my musical theatre instagram account and started being more active in the fandom... the energy there is slightly different than here. people are actually fighting for his attention. his birthday was like a fucking shit show of who would do more just to be noticed by him. i kinda started feeling like maybe i am worth nothing because i've never met him, never been to new york (simply because i cannot afford it at the moment) or never been noticed, or maybe i haven't been here long enough, well, i also don't have a motherfucking role in this fandom - i'm not a writer, i don't make art, no talents at all, i'm just here to admire and enjoy his work. it all went too far and i was even too fucking tired to keep answering all the asks i was getting about him (and there was a lot of them at some point, probably because i was the most active member of this community on tumblr and someone who was always defending him and people started treating me like a person who knows fucking everything about him and that's just not true). i enjoyed it for a while. then i stopped. who the fuck even am i to be treated like a goddamn leader of the fandom or whatever the case was. i don't know. all i know is that it was just too much. i appreciate the fact that i was getting so many nice messages from all those people but ugh... i was once asked about discord server for his fans and i decided to create one with a huge help of my mutuals. then i fucking left. my own discord server. i don't even think anyone noticed. lmao. nobody actually asked me why, so that's what i assume. i was exhausted and drained. i just think people are taking all of it too seriously??? it was actually my mistake that i ever let myself think i was worth less than others because of all those stupid things. anyway. i don't want any of this. i hope no one in this fandom even remembers me now, maybe except those people i still talk to. the rest is history.

you may think i am making the same mistake now, but no. it's different. i am just here to have a good time, reblog silly pictures with my silly little tags and maybe make some of my mutuals laugh. i also want the new members of the fandom to feel loved and safe and to know that they are all equally important, doesn't matter if they were here years ago or joined last week. it's all just so fucking stupid. i don't have a role and i don't want one. i'm just here to enjoy it, it's way more fun this way - tumblr is actually great for me again.

i have no idea why i decided to use your ask as an opportunity to tell all of this. i don't know. i'm sorry. it just had to be said i fear.

one last thing, if you really want to get into musicals more, i can recommend you some of my favourites. i have a good taste actually!

[thepunkmuppet]

sorry for saying i was going to live blog my reactions to the show, i over-estimated my attention span and under-estimated my excitement lmao

anyway so um What The Ever-Loving Fuck

ineffable bureaucracy is… real?? like really actually real?? what the fuck?!?!! i thought it was just a crack ship but i guess neil saw it and went huh that’s pretty nice actually because THEYRE REALLY ACTUALLY REAL OH MY GOD. i will say despite being really cute, i thought they were a bit cringe at the end, it could’ve been less lovey dovey because those characters just… aren’t? like that?? but the buildup with them meeting up was absolutely GORGEOUS and so cute and so romantic and just… yeah i love them. i think they probably would have been a bit more awkward / reluctant to admit feelings rather than “baby i love you so much you are my heaven you are my hell my darling sweet beloved” but hey. they were cute. NEW SHIP LET’S GO

nina and maggie were really really cute because of the actresses’ chemistry but pretty underdeveloped in my opinion. still i really enjoyed when they were on screen together, i just had different expectations (i was expecting like a romcom, azriaphale and crowley trying to put them together throughout the season, which was eluded to but then just… didn’t happen i guess). still they were very sweet and i really really liked them

saraquel is great, michael’s hair was terrible, uriel is the hottest character, beelzebub’s new look was cool as fuck, i love the repeated gag of that one demon who just seems to have infinite versions of himself and REECE SHEARSMITH DEMON CHARACTER LET’S GO!?!?!! i was not expecting him to have a significant role again and he was so good, furfur is literally amazing and as an inside no 9 fan seeing him and steve pemberton was soooo much fun

we’re all agreeing that the flashbacks were the best part right?? because they were the best part

shax is my silly little pathetic little skrunkly who talks like a constipated snake and looks like a milf wearing leather that squeaks when she moves. truly a blorbo to behold

crowley’s confession was the most perfect in-character thing i have ever seen and i am SO happy with the way it was written and performed, him almost crying and then grunting in frustration i just i can’t i w AAAAAAAAA IT WAS PERFECT

aziraphale’s realisation was also perfect. sheen is so freaking good at being adorable and smitten

the plot was… odd. every actor was amazing, the visuals were amazing, the jokes were hilarious, every episode was extremely enjoyable to watch… but it just felt a little half-baked to me. every scene was tight and again, really fun, but the overarching plot was kind of…??? i’m not a professional writer by any stretch of the imagination but i’m allowed to have an opinion, and my opinion is pretty damn mixed when it comes to the season arc. there’s obviously going to be a season 3 (i say, literally begging neil gaiman on my knees while screaming and sobbing) and so i think season 2 felt so slow and uneventful because it’s supposed to be a kind of bridge between big plotlines. because so much interesting stuff was picked up and then simply put down again. or kind of just… left to float aimlessly in the air and make me confused as to why and how some of it even happened. but honestly i trust neil and the other writers and creatives so… season 3 here we come! overall i really enjoyed it a lot, but the (modern day) plot was just a bit of a weird one for me

AND FINALLY TO ADDRESS THE FUCKING ENORMOUS ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM. IF I HAD A GODDAMN NICKEL-

[ravencromwell]

Every time I want to talk about @starsailores Life is Equal to Dust in the Balancer's eye, I'm confronted with an unsolvable conundrum: how do you rec a story of this caliber without descending into jibbering incoherence as you scream at the rest of the fandom they _must IMMEDIATELY go read and descend into the unbearable, beautiful katabasis with you? Particularly when you've known from the second it got vaguely posted about it was going to be rare and special? Not simply because Lucas has phenomenal control of voice, dough he does. But because the whole premise: love taken to the extremes of madness, is tailored exquisitely to your id. Particularly when it was special in all the ways advertised on the tin—hopeless, hopeful journeys; grief; love; the eeriness of death in all its incomprehensible strangeness. And yet was also special in ways you could never have anticipated. It would have been so easy for a tale like this to be unremitting, hopeless bleakness. We know, after all, how it is bound to end. But for all this is an ostensible tale of trying and failing at the impossible, Lucas makes it as much or more a paean to memory: as blessing, consolation, way to ensure a legacy lingers in the world. For Vortalis, who "spoke with the rasping cough of a lifelong smoker, had the scarred and calloused hands of a violent youth, and held the brutally honest opinions of a politician" fairly leaps off the page. The most vivid, visceral moments of this piece are in the land of the living, whether they're bantering over philosophy or the absence of wine and cheese. It's in passages like: "Ros Vortalis had left a mark everywhere he went, be it handful of coins dropped into a beggar's outstretched palm or an impassioned speech to spark a revolution, and he should have had decades more to make those marks into the grand picture he had always envisioned." (I fucking told you Lucas's voice was sublime.) Or in the way that, even in the bleakest of moments, he's trying to make one Holland Vosijk laugh * eyes Lucas balefully over a line I will not spoil and that is still making me a goddamn weeping mess seventy-fucking-two hours later*

And there's a necessary, vital hope in that: for all the reckless deals Holland has made, for everything that can and will be lost, the way the dead leave a mark in how much they have shaped the living is something that can never be taken away.

Vor's influence is braided throughout this piece, in ways one rarely gets with the Eurydice of myth: the line which shall live rent-free just beneath my breastbone is: "There was always that dark voice in the back of his mind, the one that whispered sweet promises of release to him in the worse moments, but Vor had painstakingly taught him to ignore those bitter temptations, and Holland refused to let one terrible night undo those years of teaching."

I think all of us who have lost someone know those memories never fade, the way one might expect. They lie quiescent, sometimes, for days, weeks. But they come back vividly over the smallest things: a smell, the lilting up of a stranger's voice. They're not always bad; far from it, they're often funny, comforting, what have you. This story is inflected with those rhythms, whether it's the teaching line quoted above, or musing over a keepsake, or stepping into Vor's shoes to solve an intractable conundrum. It feels. like the catharsis Schwab didn't have canonical room to give us. From a Doylist lens, we know how powerful Holland's grief must be because of the vividness of Vortalis in flashback, far more present than even Alox or Talya, who often feel more like character sketches. But that did not entirely make up for, save in very specific instances may we all remember being slain by Rosenal, the way that memory, grief, what have you didn't particularly _inflect Holland's present. It's something I've been craving from Holland-centric pieces, without quite having the capacity to articulate, until I saw how seamlessly it appeared here.

And my GOD, speaking of canon, the fucking transpositions! Thing I did not know I needed until December thirty-first and now _desperately need more of: poet Holland Vosijk as the main speechwriter/propagandist/what have you for Grey London revolutionary Ros Vortalis. Lucas over here making me want to dig up all the chartist poetry I discovered in one of the best history projects of the last semester, from Joseph Skipsey to Ellen Johston.

The way the goddamn knife!!!!!!! becomes an integral element, not so much as weapon in this magicless world, but as "Unique reassurance of what he meant to another person available whenever he felt himself faltering." What a flawless way to get at the heart of a thing's value, even as its ostensible use is stripped away.

Or, the small, oh-so-carefully considered homages to canon: Barron guarding the underworld from the unwary, just as he guards the remnants of Grey's magic holy fucking hell _inspired. The Barron characterization is just SUBLIME, with him fairly leaping off the page in lines like: "Best they spend the night here, where someone can keep an eye out for them, and stay out of trouble." of those exhausted, embittered patrons who find their way to a tavern on death's door. How empathy wars with hard-nosed pragmatism: "Just don't come crying to me when that self-sacrificial determination of yours burns you."

This is a world deeply lived in, with innumerable asides not crucial to this particular tale that have me as invested in who Holland was before this moment as whom he shall be after. The mentions of laying both his lover and brother to rest; the meditations on how revenge never truly sates grief, as though this is a man who has shed a fair amount of blood once upon a time. Revelations all the more tantalizing given that the heart of this tale is a rapid-fire philosophical repartee between Holland and the Shadow King on whether there is indeed a shred of kindness within humanity.

I've deliberately erred on the side of sparseness when discussing the transposition of Black London as the underworld, because the layers of it should be discovered on one's own. It is a tour de force, with its "Slick black streets almost familiar enough to give him déjà vu, but [with] a thrum of cold energy that lent a dark undercurrent to the empty buildings and starless sky." It is a tale I will be pondering for a long time to come, and I cannot believe we were fannishly fortunate enough for Lucas to present it as capstone to this exhausting, often bleak year.

[Also, while Lucas's soundtrack is already excellent, may I rec a curated list of selections from the incomparable OBC of Anais Mitchell's Hadestown, since they're what I've had on repeat for oh y'know the last three days as I've written snatches of this rec and reread the fic.

"Any Way the Wind Blows" feels like such! a goddamn Holland Vosijk song, both before he meets Vor and in the month over which this fic takes place.

"All I've Ever Known" FUCK. Just the encapsulation of the Holland/Vor relationship.

"If It's True" is Holland fucking Vosijk of this verse to a goddamn tee.

And "Promises" is just. everything he wants. Everything he's lost.]

[beepboopkek]

— Hidden Surprises (M!Reader)

Including: Kamisato Ayato x AMAB!Reader afab version has been posted on both tumblr and ao3 cw: !! NSFW !!, amab!reader, established relationship, bottom!sub!reader, top!dom!ayato, fluff and smut, pwp but barely, smacking (paddle), lots of teasing/flirting/kissing, mirror s3x, cursing, d1rty talk, n1pple play, slight dom/sub undertones, implied dom drop from ayato, mayb a little unrealistic s3x idk, AFTERCARE!!!! w/c: approx 2.9k words, might change since i make edits while posting a/n: after 8 goddamn drafts of this fic i managed to finally finish it,, im like at a 50/50 opinion on this but honestly i jsu wanted to get the brainrot out of my system... sorry for the long absence :sob:.. also i tried changing up my writing style a little, id love any form of feedback so feel free to leave a comment :D NSFW BELOW THE CUT

“You've been staring for a while.” Ayato’s voice broke you out of your thoughts as your eyes met his violet ones and you smiled.

The evening air was crisp as you gently swirled the Sake in your cup, eyeing your husband over the rim as he sat beside you. The Yashiro Commissioner was poised and perfect as always— his hair neatly tied over his shoulder with a ribbon that matched his usual outfit. Your gaze travelled the expanse of his torso, unconsciously lingering on his hands as he kept them folded on the table.

“Oh, don't mind me. I’m simply admiring the view.” Your voice had a teasing lilt as you replied, still boring your eyes into his as you took another sip of your drink.

Ayato simply raised a brow at you, before moving his curious gaze to the half-empty bottle of Sake left beside you— immediately bringing out a hand to drag the bottle away from your reach.

“Hey! I was drinking that—!” You tried to snatch back the bottle like a cat that got its toy taken away but unfortunately for you, Ayato was too fast.

“Oh, I know.” Your husband only infuriatingly smiled back at you, relishing in the adorable pout on your face as you folded your arms in annoyance.

“I apologise, I want you to be somewhat sober tonight.” 

You gasped, placing a hand on your chest, and giving him an offended look.

“I am sober! I only had two glasses.”

“Mhmm. Whatever you say.” 

“Why do you need me to be sober anyway?”

Ayato leaned towards you, resting his hand on a closed palm. He tilted his head and looked at you with nothing short of pure adoration before saying, “I have a surprise for you.”

This time, it was your turn to raise an eyebrow at him. You mimicked his position (albeit with less elegance) as you tried to make the mental calculations to discern what this “surprise” could be.

Ayato and the word “surprise” never really mixed well for you. The last time he had a "surprise," it involved a strange hotpot that left you feeling queasy for days.

Ah.

Bingo.

“If it's another one of your horrible food concoctions, count me out.”

Ayato chuckled, a wide smile spreading across his face as he shook his head lightly. “Hehe, not to worry, dear. It's something you'll like.”

You would never admit it, but the two glasses of Sake did, in fact, put your mind in a pleasant buzz. You were never a good drinker to begin with so maybe it was good that your husband had confiscated your wine before you went overboard.

Well, that certainly wasn't going to stop you from teasing him, though.

You gave Ayato a languid gaze as you reached out a hand to twirl soft baby blue strands between your fingers, feeling his eyes on you as you brought his hair towards your lips, leaning in to give the strands a chaste kiss. You could feel Ayato’s breath hitch at the blatant display of public affection, which you didn't do very often.

Ayato recovered quickly, pulling back his face of smug satisfaction as he smiled.

“ … Tell me what it is then.”

“Well, it wouldn't be much of a surprise then, would it?”

You pouted at him again and he only chuckled in response, giving you a coy smile.

Two can play that game.

You surveyed your surroundings before deducing that no one would catch you and a mischievous smile coiled on your face as you observed your husband suddenly stuck in conversation with someone seated in front of the two of you.

You quietly praised each archon for giving you this golden opportunity as the perfect distraction appeared without any effort on your part. 

You reached out to place your hand on his knee under the table, pretending to swirl the non-existent wine in your cup with the other so that no one would suspect a thing.

Ayato's eyes flickered to yours for a split second before continuing the conversation as if nothing had happened.

You smiled to yourself as you began to stroke the inside of his thigh with your thumb, inching your hand higher and higher.

He'd never admit it, but you could feel the way his leg shook ever so slightly at the intimate contact.

You kept your hand stationed there for the short duration of the commissioner’s conversation, cheekily observing the light dust of red that had covered the high rise of his cheeks (which he would later blame on the alcohol).

You're broken out of your giddy stupor when you feel a larger hand on yours, stopping all motion as he gripped your hand tightly before passing you a faux smile and turning back to excuse the two of you.

Rascal.

“I apologise, my husband seems to be getting tired.”

You looked at the guest and gave him an apologetic smile although you were anything but that.

The both of you quickly bid your goodbyes to more guests as you made your way out, your husband almost dragging you by the hand.

While the Yashiro Commissioner looked just about normal to everyone, you could see the impatient jitter in his steps, the flush down his neck and the slightly hurried hush in his voice as he navigated the two of you through the crowd.

Right as you were about to board the carriage to make your way back up to the Kamisato estate, Ayato pulled you against his chest to whisper into your ear—

“I'm going to ruin you tonight.”

…

Ayato kept a firm hand on your thigh the entire ride back, occasionally squeezing it while conversing with you as if nothing was happening.

As if he didn't make your entire body shudder with just a sentence.

As soon as the two of you entered the privacy of your shared room, Ayato covered your eyes with his hands and instructed you to keep them closed until he asked you to open them again while he helped you out of your outfit, both of you giggling at your unstable movements from being temporarily blinded.

Which landed you here, stark naked and seated on the edge of the bed waiting for your husband late into the night. Your eyes were screwed shut as he shuffled around the room before quietly helping you up and settling you on his lap— his slender hands squeezing around your body as he leaned in to nibble the shell of your ear. He moved his hands to your belly before dipping his hands in between and prying your legs apart with a gentle insistence that had you murmuring his name in half-hearted protest.

“Open your eyes.”

You did just that, adjusting to the sudden brightness as you took in the sight before you.

A large rectangular mirror with an ornate gold frame with the Kamisato crest on the top, set on the wall in front of your bed. 

You observed your reflection in the mirror with shallow breaths, the golden lamps doused the room in a soft glow as you shivered, your husband's hands still placed between your thighs, keeping them apart.

Archons.

“ … It's beautiful.”

Your eyes met Ayato's observant gaze in the mirror as he spoke again, "Well, what do you think?"

Ayato smiled against your ear, kissing the side of your head affectionately.

“But, why—”

“I knew you would like it.”

Your breath hitched in embarrassment as your gaze travelled the entire expanse of the mirror, your ears burning with the overwhelming urge to hide. You could see every inch of your exposed body reflected at you, making your heart race.

His hands remained steady on your thighs, grounding you as he squeezed them again and cut you off with a kiss to the side of your neck as he looked at you through the mirror.

“I want you to see how mesmerising you look.”

His hands travelled along the outline of your torso as you waited for him to continue, “I want you to see what I see.”

That's when his left hand reached back onto the bed, fumbling momentarily before he brought something forward. You glanced down, curiosity piqued, and saw that he held a—

Oh.“I thought you’d be more romantic with your surprise.”

A paddle. With a tiny heart cut out in the middle of it.

“Well, I’ve always believed in doing things in a more unorthodox way.” The mischievous glint in his eye told you there was more to this.

Ayato’s hand, which was still on your thigh, pulled it back a little further. He gently swept the paddle against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, the polished wood providing a smooth glide.

“The rules are simple,”

“All that bravado in the evening, where is it now?” 

You tore your eyes from the mirror to glance to your side when he raised the paddle a little, striking down on your thigh. You jolted in surprise as you immediately felt his hand rub the irritated skin softly.

“One, do not look away from the mirror.”

Ayato’s finger traced the heart imprint left on your thigh as he continued,

“— and two, do not close your eyes.”

Ayato’s hands traced the outline of your body as he silently awaited your consent. The silence was that of comfort, you felt relaxed knowing you could opt out of this at any moment and your husband wouldn’t hold it against you.

You smirked.

“… Ruin me, Commissioner.”

You felt a sharp exhale on your shoulder as Ayato’s hands moved with renewed purpose all over your body. You felt his hand creep towards your chest, fondling one side as he tweaked the nipple between his fingers, your low moans now filling the room.

He latched his lips onto the column of your neck as he begrudgingly left your chest to trail his hand towards your cock. His other hand was still holding onto the paddle that rested against your thigh, unmoving and unfaltering in making its presence known.

A wave of relief washed over you as his fingers wrapped around you, your eyes closed in pure bliss as you moaned in pleasure, locking your hands behind his neck and—

A smack to the inside of your thigh snapped your eyes right back open in shock.

Oh. Right.“Eyes on the mirror.”

You nodded fervently as Ayato went back to drawing out lazy pumps, his thumb dipping into the slit of your head as his sharp gaze stayed glued to your body through the mirror.

You glanced down to your thighs in the mirror to see a red imprint of the paddle on your skin and looked back up to meet Ayato’s heated gaze, a coy smirk playing into his voice as he spoke again.

“Enjoy the show, dear.”

You watched in a daze as your husband coated his fingers with the lube, sliding his now wet middle and ring finger down, circling your entrance before dipping the tips inside you as you shook in anticipation. His hand flexed as he moved his fingers deeper, lightly thrusting them in and out as he searched for your sensitive spot with experienced precision.

He pushed his fingers to the knuckle— Your moans mingled with his heavy breaths. You pushed yourself back against his chest in hopes of alleviating some of the tension in his pants.

His voice was breathless as he spoke in your ear, 

“Do you like it when I do this?” and he curled his fingers inside you, making you moan again.

Maybe it was the whole evening of teasing that got you to the cusp of an orgasm so soon but, it was quickly becoming too much. Ayato's skilled hands proved to be too deadly for you— making you close your eyes and lean your head back onto his shoulder as you moaned.

Smack!

Eyes opened wide, you jolted back up and your orgasm washed over you immediately as Ayato continued to pump his fingers in and out to help you ride it out, his hand leaving the paddle in favour of stroking you as you twitched in his hold.

“Fuck—”

You panted, struggling to keep your eyes open. Ayato stilled as his left hand let go of your sensitive cock to grab your chin, forcing you to look sideways as he kissed you deeply.

Your lips parted with his as you both caught your breath— your husband gently removing his fingers from you and wiping them onto the cloth laid next to him.

Ayato moved you a little forward as he unzipped his pants, pulling his cock from underneath you so that it poked out between your soft thighs.

Archons, he could get used to this view.

He wanted to make you wait, wanted to edge you until you were begging for him, tears sticking to your clumped lashes as you pouted at him, whining and writhing in his hold as he kept your pleasure from you. 

But he couldn't.

He wanted you just as bad as you wanted him.

He was impatient, haphazardly stroking on more lube on his cock as he aligned himself with you, slowly pushing in as you both moaned in relief.

Ayato curled a hand around your waist to hold you in place as he set a rhythm of short and quick thrusts, latching his mouth onto your neck again as he bit down to stifle his moans.

“Ayato, please-” 

A resonant smack to your sensitive nipple is all that you get in response as you immediately plaster your eyes back on the mirror.

— and archons was it a sight, your bodies were covered in a thin sheen of sweat as red-purple imprints of the paddle were littered across the expanse of your soft skin, little bruises blossoming on both sides of your neck, your hair stuck to your forehead as you writhed in your spot, aching to find release again.

The hand curled around your waist twisted downwards to stroke you again, your thighs shaking at the rush of overstimulation. You sighed in pure bliss before you abruptly felt his hand moving away and a series of smacks on your sensitive nipples.

Fuck. You didn't even notice you stopped looking at the mirror.

He unlatched himself from your neck, leaving deep imprints of his teeth as he raised his head to pull at your earlobe with his teeth.

“You know I don't like repeating myself.”

Tears clung to your eyes as your body buzzed through the different sensations of pain and pleasure, the thought of disappointing your husband sitting heavy in your throat as you swallowed down your complaints.

His pace grew erratic as you held onto him, heavy moans mingling with his silent ones as tears slipped from your eyes.

“Come with me.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as Ayato spoke into your ear. You barely registered the tip of the paddle hitting your thigh again or how your husband pulled out just in time to finish on your lower back— your legs trembling as you clenched around nothing.

Holy shit.

Ayato detached himself from you, flipping you over so that you were laid flat on the bed on your stomach as you caught your breath. He took the washcloth he had set up earlier to clean you off a little before helping you up and lifting you to prepare a bath.

“Oh? Did you miss me?”

You were floating, you weren't sure how much time had passed when you came to but you were (yet again) seated in your husband’s lap as he gently massaged your stiff shoulders, waiting for you to regain your senses.

“ … Hi.”

You spoke as you turned your head to meet his lips in a soft kiss.

“Hello.”

You got up on shaking limbs, turning your body over so that you were straddling his legs.

Ayato looked at you questioningly, tilting his head. You simply kissed the mole under his lip as you replied, “I wanted to see your face.”

You kissed the tip of his nose this time, “Yes.” 

He smiled, the edges of his eyes crinkling as his gaze lingered on all the hickeys he had left, his face dropping a little.

“How are you feeling?”

“Great. A little sore but I'll be fine.”

You leaned down to kiss the mole on his collarbone, lingering there to leave a love bite of your own.

There was a pause, you knew this was when he would start questioning himself.

“Was I—?”

Before he could finish his question, you captured his lips in a soft kiss, caressing the back of his head with your hands as you gently massage it.

“No. It was perfect. In every sense of the word, I enjoyed it.”

Ayato smiled at you again.

There was a comfortable silence after that, the both of you taking turns to wash out each other's hair and backs, sneaking small kisses in between as you giggled.

You dried each other off before your husband laid you down on the bed, procuring an ointment seemingly out of nowhere as he applied it to the bruises on your thighs and chest.

You laid down on the soft sheets and felt the energy drain from your bones, giving Ayato one last peck on the lips before you drifted off to sleep.

“I love you.”

He kissed the top of your head lovingly, and if you were any more tired, you would've missed his response.

“I find myself falling for you more and more every single day. Goodnight, dear.”