#in reality i'm not doing that out of respect of my mutual

[spinebuster]

mentally i'm making yuta getting choked as my pfp on every platform

[harmonysanreads]

I KNOW WE HAVEN’T KNOWN ANYTHING ABOUT PHAINON YET (except for that cute face and yummy booba) AND I ALREADY HAVE SOME THOUGHTS ABOUT HIM.

Okay okay imagine Yandere! Phainon who loves you and cherishes your existence too much to the brink of obsession (can you blame him?). Him, being a perfect man himself still thinks that he lacks something, and that something is your devotion, your unyielding love because he deserves it, right? He deserves to have your attention and your affection after everything he has done for you.

Oh no, dear Phainon is definitely not a selfish man, he just needs your love to complete himself, to have someone that he could return to after a hard day.

That’s why I think this man will definitely love bombing you. Gifts, kisses, cuddles? Everything you want, everything you ask for. And even if you don’t even need it, he still offers it to you like the desperate puppy he is. He will spoil you rotten, and I mean it in the most respectful way. He found your smallest quirks adorable even if it’s not that special in your eyes. He reminds you to stay dehydrated and go to sleep early, he even tells you to eat healthy. That’s why after knowing him, you have never skipped another meal. And he will definitely coo softly to you whenever you feel insecure about yourself. That’s why you need him, that’s why you should rely on him. And the only thing Phainon ask for as a payback is your love, love him like the way he does to you. Please please because you’re his pretty girl and he loves you too much to even think that this is not a mutual feeling.

Can you really say no to him? To that adorable face and those sparkling blue eyes that seem to go lovesick everytime they catch a glimpse of you?

It was the fifth time this month, or was it the sixth? You couldn't be bothered to keep count anymore, the absurdity of the situation pushing you closer to questioning reality.

“You do know that it's illegal to break into a person's house?” you manage to croak out, senses strained by sickness.

“Break into your house?” he pulls out a chair to sit, the bowl of whatever he'd brought with him finding its place on the table beside your bed.

The near-dumbfounded edge to his question makes you deadpan, “You're so humorous, even when you're sick. How is it trespassing when we're in love with each other?”

You feel your fingers clutching onto your bedsheets, did he even hear you? Can he hear himself? To that, your conscience answers with a firm no. He'll only acknowledge what will suit his fancy, anything else is but you being in a ‘phase of denial’.

“I am not in love with you, how many times do I need to reiterate?” you stress, watching the twirl of the spoon as he stirs the contents in the bowl.

“Hush, I know you're just moody I didn't arrive sooner. I read it on that book you had on you on last Saturday. This is the part where I'm supposed to apologize and hold my ears, right—”

You release a heavy sigh.

You could not decide what begged the most concern : the fact that he doesn't see the problem in his behavior or how accustomed to it that you're getting.

A warm touch on your forehead startles you, another firmer grip on your arm stops you from moving away, “How are you still so energetic with this high a fever?” the candle atop the table flickers, a frown blemishes his face.

He leans in, you respond by increasing the distance. “I took medicine earlier.” you mutter, suddenly feeling like a guilty child.

“Did you? Good girl.” you don't need to look at him to picture the shine clinging at the corners of his lips. You shouldn't look at him for it'll reveal the barely held back cringe spreading across your face.

You're about to protest but a wave of dizziness halts you. Phainon notices the change, you find yourself wishing he wasn't so observant.

“But you haven't eaten, have you?” his hands act too familiar, too comfortable in touching you. You're forced to inhale as he cups your face in inspection, pretending it's for work — but you know, his greed extends too far for it to be anything but an excuse.

“I did eat.” you try to assert, he remains unconvinced.

“Are you still mad at me? If so, say it, I can apologize however you'd prefer. But please don't lie to me about matters that concern your health.” a squeeze to your cheeks, shadows fall on him.

You almost want to laugh at the worry in his eyes, at the way he behaves so much like a perfect lover. If you hadn't known better, the haze clouding your sense would've made you believe him, buy that he's being sincere.

Unfortunately for him and fortunately for you, you're just a bit more distrustful than others, just a bit more cautious than he's giving you credit for — a bit too lucid to have faith in his ‘love’ narrative.

You purse your lips, you are mad at him ; just not in the way he's deluding himself to be. As you contemplate whether to snap at him or not, he releases his grip on you in favor of scooping a spoon of the contents in the bowl, ending his path before your lips.

You turn you head away, a clear rejection. You expect him to probe again but his sigh catches you off-guard.

His finger wraps around a lock of your hair, yearning stains his eyes. “This would've never happened if you just accepted to be mine.”

You soak in his words for a second. Your left eye twitches as you realize, he completely ignored every previous piece of dialogue for his agenda.

“In your dreams.” petulance coats the statement.

To your horror, Phainon easily brings the lock of your hair to his lips, his smile widening as if he's got you exactly where he desires.

“How did you know? I do dream of you, everyday.” sparkles float around the air of his face.

You find yourself grasping at straws, how does one wake up a man who pretends to sleep? A voice in your head interjects, perhaps it is for the best you cease these attempts altogether?

“Now, won't you continue to be a sweet girl and eat up?” his words are honey, his smile is blinding and oh so dreadfully, there is adoration in his face, in his every step.

It has alarm bells ringing in your head, because it doesn't make sense.

“No.” you sharply deny, pushing the spoon away again.

“Why not?” you notice just at the nick of time, there is an edge to his voice this time. A crack forming in that perfect face.

“Because I don't trust you. What if you mixed something weird in it?” that is an understatement, your distrust for the man stretches further than the food he offers.

The elders always say, if something is too good to be true, it is too good to be true. ‘Love’ is not reason enough for you to believe Phainon's apparent devotion, his benevolence. No man would squander his time and resources only to back it up with such an easy reasoning — at least, not a man like him. Even if he says it till your ears bleed — you will not believe him.

The Chrysos Heir's hum interrupts the silence, “Then, if I do this...”

Your quizzical gaze falls on him, he holds your stare and you feel a kick at your ribcage. Struggling is useless, but you try anyway ; if just to be petty, if just to drive your point across, if just to survive. He squashes your attempt with an insultingly easy grip, showing you exactly how futile it is.

His thumb parts your lips with an insistent press, joining his pointer finger in holding your mouth open next. Your nails scratch at his glove in a pitiful attempt at getting him away, his free hand holds them both captive.

His parted lips shrinking the distance is the last thing you see, before you close your eyes shut. You would breathe if your lungs hadn't given up, the increase of strength in Phainon's grip seizes you with fear, makes it feel as though your blood froze with dread. Your instincts stop kicking, accepting its place in the serpent's jaw.

You feel a sharp kick of spice on your tongue, washing through your parched throat. A force has you closing your mouth, holding it in place until the content has been swallowed.

You heave as if you reached the surface from an arduous dive at last, mind working overtime, trying to process what just took place.

A clink of the spoon as it's placed on the bowl startles you, Phainon closes his eyes, a smile nearly splits his face in two.

“That's more like it. See, it was delicious and perfectly free of questionable substances, no?”

Phainon's smile breaks into a chuckle at the astonished look on your face, you feel a twist somewhere inside at the way derision drips from its tune. But before you can observe further, you feel a swipe of his finger on your lower lip. You make the mistake of glancing at him and he utilizes your mishap to make a show of licking the residue from your lips clean.

If you were skeptical about it before, you are certain now — this man will be your doom.

SIKE.

[seethesin]

multitasking

pairing: Shane McCutcheon x F!Reader

tags/warnings: sexual content, facesitting, cunnilingus (mdni, 18+)

a/n: based on this prompt. enjoy :)

The dinner party invitation from Bette & Tina came as a surprise to you. You accepted, of course, wanting nothing more than to spend quality time with Shane's loved ones. However, a part of you couldn't understand why you were added to the guest list. What you and Shane had was—for lack of better words—a situationship. Neither of you expected more out of the other than incredible sex, mutual respect for boundaries, and someone who was always down to have fun. Something as intimate as attending a dinner party together screamed commitment. Regardless, the two of you agreed to go together. Shane insisted on picking you up by 7:00 to be there for 7:30.

"It makes it easier," you remember Shane justifying over the phone. She babbled on about something regarding limited parking space; in hindsight, it was a lame excuse just to spend more time with you.

As promised, Shane was punctual. She was at your home by 6:30 sharp for a pickup. However, you were nowhere near ready. Thankfully, you showered, dried, and styled your hair already. But, you still needed to pick your outfit and put makeup on. You were going to need at least a half hour.

Shane blaring her car horn while parked in your driveway brought you back into reality.

"Oh my god," you mutter to yourself, searching your bedroom for your phone. Finding it underneath the dresses splayed over your bed, you smash the call button by Shane's contact and wait. Her car horn finally stops and your favorite husky voice answers on the other line.

"I'm here, [Y/N]."

"Yes, I know Shane. As does the rest of my neighborhood."

She chuckles, tickled by your tone.

"Are you ready?"

"Not yet, I still have to do a few things."

"Do you know what you're wearing yet?"

Silence. Shane's laughing now.

"Should I come in and wait?"

You sigh, defeated. "I'll unlock the door."

You end the call and hustle over to the front door. You unlock it and hold it open for Shane as she makes her way towards you, a smug smile glued onto her face.

She looks good. She always does. But there was something about the tailored suit jacket, dress shirt, and trouser combination she donned that made her look even sexier than usual. You shake that thought out of your head; you need to get ready.

"Hey, [Y/N]," she greets you, stepping into your home as you shut and lock the door behind her. You turn to face her and she's already leering at you. Her smirk does not falter.

"You sure you don't want to wear that tonight?"

Glancing down at yourself, you blink back your shock. Since you couldn't decide on what to wear, you kept your bra and underwear on but threw a robe over yourself for modesty's sake. If you weren't crunched for time, you would have taken it to throw a smart comment back at Shane. Instead, you playfully punch her in the shoulder, unable to stop yourself from grinning back. She holds up her hands in mock surrender.

"Do you want anything?" you ask, getting ready to step into the kitchen. Shane shakes her head, settling down on your couch instead.

"I'm going to finish getting ready. If you need me, I'm in my room, okay?" Shane salutes you like a soldier, snatching up the TV remote before turning it on. Half seriously, you roll your eyes before slipping down the hallway.

Your brain kicks into overdrive as you check the time. 6:34. Okay, you have some time.

Exhaling slowly, you look at the three dresses spread on your bed. Childishly, you close your eyes and whisper out the eenie meenie miney mo spiel to yourself. Once you finish, you open your eyes and take in your randomized decision. It was a batwing, beige a-line dress with a white floral pattern. Good enough.

Shedding your robe off, you slip into the dress before smoothing it out. You check yourself in the mirror and, once content with how you look, put the other dresses away. You then pull the chair out to your vanity and take a seat.

You’ve just finished applying a layer of foundation when you see Shane enter your bedroom from the corner of the mirror.

“Hey,” you offer, looking back at yourself and you start blending blush into your cheeks. She nods in reply.

“I got bored.” she finally admits, settling down on your bed. It sounds like Shane wants to add something to her statement, but she ends it curtly. She's fiddling with her rings, looking around your bedroom as if it's the first time she's been inside. If you didn't know any better, you would think something was making her nervous.

“So you’ve come to bother me?” you question teasingly, your tone light as you move onto bronzer.

Shane flashes a boyish grin at you, watching as you paint across your hairline with great interest. “Absolutely.”

“Lucky me.” It’s hard not to smile back at her, so you don’t bother to hide it.

Shane lays back on your bed, her legs draped over the foot of it while her head hits just under your pillows. She's staring at the ceiling, eyes wandering until she notes the windowsill above your headboard. Her brows furrow and then, a wicked thought crosses her mind.

"[Y/N]?" Shane's sitting up now, watching as you finish your highlight.

"Yes?"

"How much more do you need to do?"

"Just my eyes and lips, why?"

Shane beams.

"How good are you at multitasking?"

You don't follow. Your interest, however, is piqued.

"Pretty good. Why?"

Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips as she stares at you. You know that look all too well.

"Set your stuff up on the windowsill and c'mere."

You watch her incredulously through the mirror before turning around to look at her directly. She's serious; she's waiting for you expectantly as she drums her fingernails on her thighs. You glance at the clock. 6:45. Fine, you'll humor her.

Gathering the rest of your makeup and a desk mirror, you walk towards your bed before putting everything down on the windowsill. You take a moment to set up the mirror before you look down at Shane.

"I'm here, Shane," you mimic her from earlier, watching as she lays back down on your bed. Raising her hands toward you, she wiggles her fingers in a come hither motion.

"Take a seat."

"Shane—"

"Multitask," she chides, one hand dropping to the hem of your dress. "Unless you really don't want to."

Truthfully, the idea of grinding your cunt into Shane's mouth sounded heavenly. Receiving an orgasm or two out of it sounded even better. So you relent, hooking your thumbs under the waistband of your underwear before sliding them off. Scooping up the skirt of your dress, you climb onto your bed and kneel over Shane's face.

"You ready?" you ask, watching Shane nod eagerly before seating yourself on her face. She grips your thighs, readjusting you so you're positioned comfortably on top of her. You reach for a makeup brush and shudder once you feel Shane lick a stripe from your slit to clit. Fifteen minutes you remind yourself as you start with your eyeshadow.

Shane, meanwhile, does not feel the same time crunch. She's consuming your cunt with open-mouthed kisses, pivoting to kitten licks to get a feel of what you like in this position. Her blunt fingernails dig into your thighs, grounding you as her mouth continues to work. A devious suck to your clit makes you whine and her smirk sears into your skin.

Meanwhile, you've managed to complete your eyeshadow for one eye and have moved on to the other. Shane is insatiable though; she rips another moan from your throat as her tongue rubs tight circles around your clit.

"Fuck," you whisper, trying to compose yourself before starting the other eye. Shane hums in pleasure underneath you; the vibration against your pussy makes you squirm. The coil in your stomach is beginning to tighten and desperately, you try to control your panting. You instead focus on breathing through your nose as you blend the powder into your lid. Shane keeps you on edge, her tongue flickering against your clit before sliding down to your slit.

It's when she slips her tongue inside your pussy that your resolve falters. You finished with the eyeshadow, but you didn't trust yourself enough to put eyeliner on. Or mascara for that matter. One hand sinks into Shane's hair, grabbing tightly as you lurch forward. You choke on a groan as your hips teeter, enjoying the feeling of her tongue pistoning inside you.

It's garbled, but Shane is snickering beneath you.

"Shane." It comes out as a pitiful rasp while you shake like a leaf. Maybe no eyeliner tonight. She pinches your thighs playfully to retort, making you swivel around her tongue. You opt instead to put your lipstick on. You remove your hand from Shane's hair to grab the tube in front of you. Popping the cap off, you twist before applying a quick swipe on your bottom lip. Another whimper peels from your throat as you feel the flat of Shane's tongue stroke against your clit. The tip pumps into you, maintaining the same rhythm as before.

The sensations are starting to overstimulate you. Quiveringly, you swipe your upper lip before mashing them together, rubbing the lipstick in. You snap the cap back and nearly toss it onto the windowsill, in favor of grabbing the edge of it for purchase. Your thighs keep Shane's head vised in place as your orgasm washes over you. You're gasping and panting as you cum, eyes screwed shut as your body goes rigid. Shane's pace slows, opting instead to let you rut into her tongue to ride out the remainder of your orgasm. A few moments later, you slump forward.

You feel her tap on your thigh gently and taking the hint, you scramble off her face. Shane takes a few seconds to rest before sitting back up. Her chin is shining with your slick and she rubs it off with the palm of her hand, throwing a half-lidded gaze in your direction.

"You look good," she slurs huskily, taking the time to drag her eyes down your face. You're not sure if you're flushing from her compliment or if it's just the afterglow.

"Thank you." You glance at the clock and your eyes go wide. "Fuck!"

7:05.

You spring back up to the windowsill, swiftly grabbing the tube of mascara before twisting it open and brushing it through your lashes.

"We're gonna be late!" you hiss, scanning through the rest of the products spread out in front of you. There was no time for anything else and you instead take a moment to look over yourself in the mirror. Hopping off the bed, you swipe up your underwear and pull them up, smoothing down the skirt of your dress.

Suddenly, Shane's hands are on your hips and she yanks you into her chest. You stop moving and peer up at Shane through your lashes. Your heart flips in your chest as she flashes you a rare, genuine smile.

"You know, there's a thing called being fashionably late, [Y/N]." She winks and you can't help but mirror her grin. You press a kiss on her cheek, almost upset that the lipstick didn't transfer.

"Doesn't mean we have to keep everyone waiting." You got her there. Nodding, she released your hips before motioning to your bedroom door.

"After you, sugar."

[flightlessangelwings]

My Knight in White

Marc Spector x fem!reader

Word count- 4.3k

Dialogue prompt- “ that was for saving my life. “ Action prompt- [ KISS ]: after having been saved from immediate danger by the receiver, the sender, in a state of intense emotion and relief, kisses them to express these feelings.

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), protective!Marc, mutual pining, minor violence, minor character death, harassment of reader (not Marc), damsel in distress, unprotected piv, no use of y/n

About this reader- she is smart but not physically badass, works with Egyptian artifacts but I left it vague so you can fill in for yourself exactly what she does, no specific city where they are is stated either so it's open for you to imagine wherever, no physical descriptions other than body parts

Notes- Posting my October Year of Protectiveness @yearofcreation2023 a little late because of kinktober but I'm so excited to share this! This is expanding on an idea that @melodygatesauthor had months ago who wanted to see a damsel in distress reader and Marc saving her!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifications to stay up to date on when I post!

~

“You’re here late,” Marc’s voice broke you out of your thoughts.

You blinked, refocusing your eyes to the world around you. Looking around, you didn’t even realize how long you had been hunched over your desk, studying and cleaning the artifact that had recently been brought in. “Marc…” you breathed as you stretched, your back aching as you became aware of reality again.

He smiled softly as he uncrossed his arms, “You work too much, you know that,” he leaned against the doorway as he watched you. 

Marc loved to watch you work. He loved to watch you do anything really, but when you worked, you became so focused, lost in concentration. You handled the old artifacts with such care and respect, he couldn’t help but linger his gaze on your hands. He had never met anyone smarter than you, and he loved to listen to you go on and on about any topic you found interesting. Marc took it upon himself to watch over you, making sure you were always safe even if you never truly knew just how much he looked over you.

“I lost track of time,” you replied as you gathered yourself and packed everything away, “I didn’t realize it’s after dark.”

“And the fact that everyone else left hours ago didn’t clue you in,” Marc smirked.

“Hey,” you playfully chastised him, “I can’t help it, I just got in the zone, you know. Besides, these new artifacts are so fascinating I just can’t tear myself away from them!”

It suddenly occurred to you that you and Marc were completely alone. He was right- everyone else left hours ago. As you stood up and made your way over to him, you took in his handsome features once more. And the way he leaned against the door made your thoughts run wild. The two of you had known each other for some time now, but you kept your true feelings to yourself, afraid of damaging your friendship or losing him.

Marc looked you up and down, “Want me to walk you home?” he offered as he followed behind you, watching you flip the lights off and lock everything up.

“I’m alright,” you suddenly felt nervous. Marc has been to your place many times, but the shiver that ran up your spine made your heart race, “I don’t live that far.”

He furrowed his brow, “You sure?”

“Yeah,” you replied with a soft smile, “Thanks, though,” you stepped in front of him before you turned back, “Good night.”

Marc watched you walk away before he whispered a hushed, “Good night.”

He watched you as you made your way down the street in the darkness until he couldn’t see you anymore. Marc had already decided he was going to follow you anyway, watching over you from afar, but when he saw a group of sketchy-looking men with wicked grins sneer and tail behind you, he knew he had to do more to keep you safe.

You wrapped your arms around yourself as you made your way down the street. You didn’t make it far from Marc when you noticed that a group of men started to follow behind you, and though you couldn’t make out their exact words, you knew they were talking about you. In that moment, you wished you took Marc up on his offer to walk you home, but you couldn’t turn around now. All you could do was hope you got inside fast before they caught up to you.

“Hey sweet cheeks,” one of them called out to you.

Too late.

You glanced over your shoulder and found that they were even closer to you than you thought, and you quickly bolted down the street without a word. That only egged them on more, however, and you heard them laughing behind you as they sped up as well.

“Oh come on, sweetheart,” they sneered, “We just want to talk to you.”

A gasp escaped your lips as you turned down a street, hoping to lose them. But, your plan immediately backfired as you found yourself trapped in an alleyway at a dead end. And you failed to shake them off your tail.

“Please,” you breathed as fear pulsed through your veins, “I’m just trying to get home.”

The men surrounded you, darkness shading their features, “We’ll get you home, sweet girl.”

The others chuckled as they started to reach for you.

“Please leave me alone,” you tried to sound more assertive, but you knew you didn’t intimate them at all. They were all very muscular and taller than you, and you knew you didn’t stand a chance even if you tried to fight back. But that didn’t mean you were going to go down without a fight.

You screamed when one of them grabbed your arm, and you swung your fist into him as hard as you could while digging your feet into the ground. Gritting your teeth, you tried your best to yank yourself from his grip, but tears of frustration filled your eyes when you realized it was useless.

“No!” you cried out as you tried again, your pleas drowned out by their cackling laughter.

Suddenly, your luck changed.

Out of nowhere, something yanked the man who helped you back and he yelped as he found himself flung against the wall of the alleyway. The other men all looked up as a hooded figure in all white descended down and immediately went on the attack against them.

You gasped as you scurried back out of the scuffle, pressing yourself against the opposite wall as much as you could as if you tried to phase through the wall and disappear. Your eyes went wide as you watched the mysterious hero fight off the men who attacked you, beating and punching them down until none of them moved.

The figure then turned to you, and time froze for several moments.

He raised his hands in surrender, “I’m not going to hurt you,” the voice from under the mask said.

You couldn’t help but feel like the voice was familiar. But, you stayed silent.

“Are you ok? Are you hurt?” your rescuer asked as he stepped closer to you, looking you over.

Your hands trembled, but not from fear this time. Taking a deep breath in for the first time in what felt like forever, you finally replied in a hushed voice, “No,” you whispered, “I’m alright.”

As he stepped close enough so you could reach for him if you wanted, you studied his outfit more. He wore all white, but as he got closer, you noticed it looked like linen wrappings, almost like a mummy. A crescent moon symbol adorned his chest and a white cloak covered his head. You could see the muscle definition even through the thick wrappings, and it made you swallow hard.

You had no idea what came over you at that moment- perhaps it was the adrenaline- but without a word, you reached out for him, grabbed him and pulled your bodies closer as you laid a kiss on his mask where his mouth would be.

It caught him off guard, but he didn’t push you away. Instead, he cradled you close, holding onto your waist with one hand and your arm with the other. It felt warm, comfortable, right.

“What was that for?” he asked with a smirk in his voice.

You smiled at him, “That was for saving my life,” your voice was still hushed, your breath taken away, “Thank you.”

He cupped your chin affectionately. Through the mask, he studied you up close. Everything in Marc screamed to take it off and tell you who he was, but he also knew that knowing his secret would put you in danger. And Marc would not allow that. For now, he would be satisfied knowing you were safe, and that he was just in time. He only nodded, not saying anything else before he broke away from you and leapt up into the air, disappearing into the night just as mysteriously as he appeared. 

You watched in bewilderment as it took your brain several moments to process what just happened. You touched your lips as you realized that you kissed a total stranger, and one who you didn’t even see his face too. But, as you looked around and saw the men laying on the ground, the adrenaline ran through your veins once more and you ran out of the alleyway and quickly made your way home.

The whole time, Marc watched from the rooftops until you were safely inside.

*

In the following weeks, you threw yourself completely into your work to cope with what happened that night. A mix of emotions constantly filled your head, and you found that pushing them away with the distraction of work was the easiest way to deal with them. There were days where you hardly looked up from your desk, so deep in concentration that the rest of the world was a blur around you.

Marc kept a watchful eye over you the entire time. He knew why you were like this, but when others asked he feigned ignorance. No one had to know what happened to you, and it wasn’t up to him to tell anyway. Instead, he chose to keep an eye on you from afar, like he always did. 

Vaguely, you were aware of Marc’s presence in the shadows… and it felt familiar to you somehow. He always kept an eye on you, but after that night it somehow felt different. But, having him close was one of the few comforts you had after your attack. Yet, your mind also wandered toward the mysterious hooded figure who rescued you… 

“Hey,” Marc’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. 

You looked up with a startled gasp, not realizing how late it got. Again. “Marc,” you breathed. 

He looked worried, “Everything alright?” Marc asked, “You’ve seemed… off lately.”

Your eyes darted from his face to your desk a few times as you felt nervous suddenly, “I’m fine,” you knew you didn’t convince him, you didn’t even convince yourself.

Marc sighed your name as he settled down next to you, “You know you can tell me anything, right? I’m here for you.”

Heat rose in your face, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” you exhaled deeply, “Besides, you’d just make fun of me.”

“Never!” he exclaimed, acting playfully offended before he turned serious, “What’s on your mind?”

The comforting tone in his voice and the warmth of his presence allowed you to let your guard down, “Ok…” you took a breath, “The night I was here late a few weeks ago,” you started, “A group of guys tried to jump me,” your voice quivered and you felt Marc’s hand over yours, “But I was saved by…” you paused as you looked at him sheepishly, “A guy in a hood and something that looked like mummy wrappings.”

Marc’s face lit up as he grinned knowingly at you.

You nudged him playfully as you erupted into a fit of giggles out of pure embarrassment, “See I knew you were going to laugh at me!”

“No, sweetheart I’m not laughing at you,” Marc raised his hands defensively, “I swear!”

Something changed in the air between you as you stared at each other. The light atmosphere shifted and it felt like something heavy lingered between the two of you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you realized just how close Marc sat to you, and your breath caught in your throat as you studied his features. Not to mention that was the first time he called you anything affectionate like that…

“Marc…”

“Listen, I…,” he started, interrupting you.  

Leaning in, you were entranced by him and you hung on his every word. Just being near him and laughing like this made all your troubles melt away. You felt safe here, with him. 

But, before Marc could continue, a loud crash cut him off. 

Both of you jumped up, and you let out a soft shriek. Marc immediately went into defense mode and every muscle in his body tensed. It was late, and the two of you were the only ones in the building. He made sure the doors were locked too, so he knew whoever broke in meant trouble.

“Marc?” your voice shook.

“Listen to me,” he turned to you and placed his hands on your shoulders, “I need you to sneak out of here. Take the back exit and hide somewhere. I’m going to distract them and get a path for you to get out.”

“But the artifacts,” you whispered as you glanced over at the old objects on your desk that you spent weeks cleaning and studying. The first thought in your mind was that these are robbers looking to steal and sell them, and you didn’t want that to happen.

“Things can be replaced,” Marc sounded urgent, “We can get them back. I’m more worried about getting you safe right now.”

Your eyes went wide as you looked at him, stunned. Just as you were about to reply, though, another crash made you jump and Marc pulled you in close to keep you calm.

“It's gonna be alright,” he murmured to you, “Just trust me. Ok?”

You pulled back to look into his eyes again, “I trust you.”

He nodded as he pressed his lips together, “Ok,” how Marc sounded nervous, “Stay low. Stay in the shadows. And just get out. You hear me?”

Swallowing hard, you nodded. Then your brain caught up with you, “What about you?”

Marc smirked, “I’ll be alright. Just trust me.”

There was no time for explanations as another crash echoed in the room- they were getting closer. Marc ushered you out of the door and down the hall before he ran in the opposite direction towards the intruders. You glanced over your shoulder at his retreating figure before you made your way down the hall, crouching low and out of sight as you did so. 

As you made your way to the back door, however, you noticed that it was blocked- one of them already made his way there.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath as you changed direction. Instead, you went up to the roof in hopes of finding a place to hide until Marc did… whatever he was planning to do. 

But that plan also quickly backfired. 

You ran up to the roof and into the open area there, but you were met with yet another thug who blocked the opposite entrance from where you were.

“Well look what we have here,” he said with a dark grin on his face.

Letting out a gasp, you tried to run back where you came from, but another sinister shadowy man blocked that path. “Where do you think you’re going?” he growled.

“Please,” was all you could whimper as you felt them close in on you. 

The men just laughed as they stepped closer, reaching for their guns as they did so. But, before they reached you, one of them was yanked back, slamming into the wall. You looked up and saw the same hooded figure that saved you before swooping down from seemingly nowhere.

More of the thugs appeared from the doorway and they yelled as they pulled out their guns and started to fire on both of you. The hooded figure rushed over to you and wrapped his cloak over both your bodies, shielding you.

You covered your head out of instinct, but as you felt a warm presence, you looked up and found yourself face to face with your linen wrapped savior once more.

“It’s you,” you gasped in relief. The ringing of the guns suddenly sounded distant.

The mask started to peel away on its own, revealing none other than Marc. He breathed your name, “Are you alright?” 

“It’s you!” you sounded stronger that time, in total shock that it was Marc the whole time.

“I told you I wasn’t making fun of you,” he flashed a quick smile before he turned serious again, “I don’t have time to explain now,” he said, “I’m going to fight these guys off. You need to hide somewhere until they’re dealt with. I’ll come find you when it’s safe, I promise.”

The intruders and the guns were more pressing at the moment, so you swallowed and nodded. 

When Marc found an opening, he pushed you towards the door, “Go!” he shouted as he turned back to the intruders and fought them off.

You ran. 

Running on pure instinct, you bolted down the hall and turned a corner into a closet. Luckily, no one was around and you hid yourself well. You crouched in the corner as you listened to the grunts and gunshots in the distance. At one point, you covered your mouth to stifle a scream, suddenly scared for Marc. You fought back tears, swearing to yourself that you wouldn’t cry. 

Just as you squeezed your eyes shut and held your breath, the fighting stopped. Silence filled your ears but you didn’t dare move. Your hands trembled slightly against your face as you strained to hear the one voice that would bring you comfort.

And then you heard it.

Marc called out your name as he stood in the hall, frantically looking for you, “Baby it’s alright. You can come out.”

You let out the breath you held, all your fear escaping with it as you leapt up and out of your hiding spot. Down the hall, you saw Marc standing there, his knighty suit still adorning his body but his face exposed. “Marc,” you breathed in relief as you ran towards him.

“Sweetheart,” he sounded just as relieved as he ran towards you with open arms. 

The two of you crashed together in a messy embrace, emotions getting the better of both of you. He rested a hand on the back of your head while the other pulled you in as close as he possibly could. Tears flowed from your eyes as relief washed over you, yet the pulse of fear still ran through you after everything that happened. Vaguely, you heard Marc whispering soft words of encouragement and reassurance in your ear. 

“Come on,” Marc said, “I’m getting you out of here,” he slid his hand in yours.

“But…” you tried to protest, not wanting to leave any of the artifacts alone.

“It’s ok,” he gave you a soft smile, “They’re dealt with. Right now I want to make sure you’re safe.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to process everything. So much happened in such a short time, and you weren’t sure how to react to it. Time passed in a daze as you found yourself at Marc’s place, settled comfortably on his couch with a mug of tea in your hands. You felt safe with him, of course, but you felt like you were outside your body.

The two of you talked for what felt like hours. Marc told you everything- all of his secrets that he kept hidden for so long. He promised you that he would always protect you, and he explained why he didn’t tell you before. As he talked, the sound of his voice calmed you, like an embrace of your heart. Your eyes moved from where they stared at the mug to meet his gaze.

“I promise you, baby,” Marc cupped your face, “Nothing’s ever going to happen to you. I’ll keep you safe no matter what.”

Heat rose in your face, and you were sure Marc felt how warm you were. But, as you stared into his eyes, you felt your heart flutter and his charming gleam sent a rush of fresh emotions through you. Without a word, you closed the gap between your bodies, crashing your lips together. Muffled groans echoed between you as you climbed into his lap and Marc instantly helped you closer. Deepening the kiss, you felt a tingle on your skin as you tasted him, and you felt the reverberation of his moan against your body.

“What was that for?” he asked in a whisper, “Not that I’m complaining.”

You smirked against Marc, “I wanted to thank you properly,” you breathed, “With a real kiss this time.”

Marc cupped your face as he gazed into your soul through your eyes, “Baby…” he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for another kiss.

This time, it felt different. It was desperate and heated, but there was also the warmth and passion behind it. You moaned into Marc’s lips as you rocked your hips against his. He tightened his grip on you as a rush of need pulsed through his veins, and he couldn’t help the way his cock twitched underneath you.

Breaking away for air, Marc saw the look of wanton need in your eyes, and he knew exactly what you were thinking, “Are you sure about this, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

You cupped his face, brushed your fingers along his dark curls, “I’m sure,” you whispered as you kissed him again, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” you paused before you sheepishly added, “I’ve wanted this so so long…”

Marc grinned, his face lighting up, “Then let’s do this right.”

Shifting your bodies, Marc stood up and extended his hand. You eagerly took it and allowed him to lead you over to his bed. Excitement bloomed between you and before you even made it to the bed, your hands were all over each other. Kisses decorated your steps as you each tugged at the other’s clothing until you were bare.

You and Marc crashed into his bed, and he quickly laid overtop of you. He paused for a moment, breathless as he took in the sight of you bare underneath him, “Fuck you are beautiful,” he breathed.

“So are you,” you sighed in pure admiration as you grabbed his face and yanked him in for another kiss, “We can take our time later,” you murmured between kisses, “I need you too bad right now.”

“Fuck,” he groaned as he rocked his length along your folds. It didn’t go unnoticed that you mentioned a next time either… But your moan broke Marc out of that thought, and a shiver ran up his spine as he felt his cock against your pussy, “Wet already,” he smirked.

“Please Marc,” you pleaded. 

“I’ve got you, baby,” he moaned as he lined himself up with your entrance.

Slowly, carefully, Marc pushed himself into you, causing you both to gasp at the same time. You clawed at his arms, holding on for dear life as the slight burn of his cock stretching you out went jolts of pleasure through your body. Fresh tears filled your eyes at the sensation, and you never felt more alive, more pleasure than ever before.

“Marc…”

He groaned your name as he bottomed out inside you, “Fuck,” he breathed. Marc cradled your face as he rocked in and out of you, slowly at first, but the more you moaned the faster he moved, “You’re perfect,” he moaned, “Shit…”

“Fuck… Marc… You feel so good,” you moaned as you saw stars every time his cock slammed into you.

It didn’t take long for you to feel the tingles of your approaching climax. Your legs trembled on either side of Marc’s body as he thrust into you over and over again and you dug your nails into his soft skin as you clung to him. Incoherent praises flowed from his lips as both your moans grew louder and louder as you lost yourselves in each other.

“Marc… I’m…”

“I’ve got you, baby,” Marc repeated his words from earlier.

Skin slapped against skin as Marc felt his own climax apparach. But, he was determined to send you over the edge first, and with just a few more thrusts of his hips, he got what he wanted. With a loud scream, you came hard, crying out his name as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you. And fuck you had never looked more beautiful to Marc.

He kept up his pace as long as he could, watching the show you put on just for him and savoring every second of it. But, Marc’s eyes started to roll back as he felt his orgasm quickly build, egged on by the way you clenched your inner muscles around his cock. And with a groan of your name, he came right after you, spilling himself into you as he did so.

Marc collapsed on top of you, completely spent. But, after just a few breaths, he shifted himself, pulling out of you with a hiss before he laid next to you. You let out a whine at the loss, but quickly curled yourself up in his embrace as Marc held you close. You closed your eyes as you rested your head on his chest, listening to the pounding of his heartbeat against your ear.

“Marc, I…”

“Shhh,” he gently hushed you, “Just rest now baby,” Marc cradled your head as he placed a soft kiss, “I’ve got you.”

You hummed contently as sleep quickly took you over. Between the excitement, the danger and the rush of emotions, you suddenly found yourself exhausted and in no time you feel sound asleep in Marc’s arms.

Marc stayed awake for some time, listening to the sound of your heavy breaths. He knew exactly what you wanted to say, and as much as he wanted to hear you say those words, he knew it was better to wait. He gave your body one extra squeeze before he whispered to your sleeping form, “You’re safe with me, sweetheart… I love you.” 

[porkcutletbowl44]

Tags!: MDNI🔞, mutual voyeurism, comfort

(my smut skills are rusty, it's been some time, mostly just practice)

Another note, this is unrelated to Far From Perfect, I just need an outlet because I'm ovulating

Keegan P. Russ x reader

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

Everything might have just changed permanently, he fears.

Not even 15 minutes ago there was fire and passion, lips and teeth, the taste of skin and leftover sweets from lunch, months of contained lust spilling out in messy bursts, eager touches and labored breathing.

And now? Silence.

You are curled up on the other side of the couch in the corner in a tight ball, wearing one of his shirts and your panties, your eyes cast downward.

Fear? Embarrassment? Anxious? maybe all.

Keegan glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, trying and failing to act as if he wasn't paying attention, how can he not pay attention to you?

He's smoked his cigarette and was halfway through a second one now. The silence is deafening, but the TV in front of you both was on for white noise; a reality TV show running about the lives of rich people, who are now bickering over something stupid like what brand new car to buy and add to the collection.

He tried to pretend like he didn’t notice your hesitance, but that's asking a starving man to not eat. Every movement, every shiver of your body. He noticed it all, refusing to push you further past the limit you've reached.

He didn't want to scare you, or make you feel bad.

He also didn’t know why you backed out.

Keegan let out a sigh, placing the half-smoked cigarette in the overfilling ash tray, as he leaned back into the couch, running a hand through his hair to get it back into place, something you passionately ruffled into a mess.

"Baby," he muttered, turning his head to look at you.

Meekly, your eyes meet his.

Keegan’s heart almost breaks. He hated this. Hated seeing you like this, nervous and unsure, wary and skittish.

Usually you were strong, confident, and outgoing— but right now, you're none of those. He swallows the lump in his throat, slowly sitting up and placing a careful hand on your knee.

"Are you okay…?"

Keegan's frown matches your own as you worry your lip, still swollen from the usual make out session, you avoid eye contact. He lightly squeezes your knee, silently coaxing you to say something, when you won't under these circumstances.

"Listen."

Keegan slowly scoots closer, moving to press his hip against yours, looking down at you as you sit like a curled up, nervous animal.

"Did I pressure you?"

You shake your head, exhaling nervously.

"No, I'm sorry..."

Keegan scoffs. "Don't be sorry. If you didn't wanna, you didn't have to."

Despite his words, his stomach twisted. What if you were lying? He knew sometimes you did that to try and avoid upsetting him, or worrying him. What if you were playing two roles here, unwilling to face his concerns?

He could feel a sickening, cold chill of guilt settle deep into his bone marrow, wondering if he did push you. Did he do something wrong? Is there something you don't like?

His mind begins to whirl with thoughts like a storm: Was I too pushy? Did I go too fast? Did I say something wrong? Was I too rough? Did I hurt you?

Keegan thought he had been respectful, waiting patiently while you were comfortable.

He hadn't tried to push you, pressure you. But now he was worried that maybe he had. He had hoped you wanted this. That you'd be ready, as he was. After months of secret, testing the water touches, sneaking off like teenagers to get a taste of lips, he thought that now would be perfect.

He wanted this. To be physically intimate with you, to seal the deal into something more after months of slowly waiting.

But now?

Now he wasn't sure, and he felt like a fool.

"Promise to not be mad?" You whispered.

Keegan's jaw tenses, his nerves on full alert.

Oh, god. I did something. I pushed her, now it's all over.

Without a second thought, he quickly nodded. You uncomfortably shift in place, fingers wringing together. Immediately, Keegan's mind thinks of a million different reasons why you would be nervous.

Did you have a bad experience? Did something happen before you met him? Was it something he had done? Was it something he will do?

As you finally look at him, you're pumping with anxiety. "I have trouble,"

Keegan’s brows furrow together, head canting to the side like a confused puppy. What could you possibly ‘have trouble’ with?

"Trouble with what?"

You sigh, shoulders slumping in what he assumes to be reluctance.

"I don't have much... experience. And, I had to stop, because I can't... Finish,"

Oh.

Keegan’s mind instantly settles of all the worrisome thoughts, his shoulders sagging as relief washes over his body like a tidal wave. While he isn't the problem in this equation, you have worries of your own that dwarf his.

He wasn't the problem, thank god.

"Hey," he soothes, scooting a little closer. "It's alright. That's alright, baby."

"It's not," you almost cry, turning your head away.

"Yes it is," Keegan counters quickly.

He reaches out to gently grip your chin, coaxing your face to look at him. "You didn't do anything wrong, you don't have experience, that's okay. It's not a bad thing." he explains, leaning in to brush his lips against your temple.

Keegan hates everything about this— the embarrassment, the hesitation and anxiety you feel. How you must feel like something's wrong with you, is fucking jarring.

There's nothing wrong with you.

"I swear, it's okay." he softly reiterates, releasing your chin and wrapping an arm around your waist to scoot you on his lap.

"I disappointed you..." You mumbled, face planting into his shoulder in a lazy slump.

He'd never be, at all, disappointed in you.

For this? For something you can't even control, especially for your lack of experience? Not at all.

"No, no, you didn't." he immediately reassures, pressing a firm warm kiss onto the crown of your head, squeezing you tightly. He tucks his face down into the crook of your neck, gently nuzzling against your skin.

"Never. You could never disappoint me, baby."

He leans back into the couch, fingers pressed into the soft flesh of your hip, his chin resting on your shoulder giving side of your neck a trail of warm kisses.

"I don't care if you have experience or not. I don't care if we don't have sex," he murmurs beside your ear.

It was half true for the most part; he'd been dreaming of finally getting you in his bed, waking up to you, taking the next step in a relationship he was taking seriously for once. And if you didn't want that, or you still weren't ready, then no harm.

"As long as you're comfortable, I don't care. That's all I want.”

"But you will care,"

"No, I won't."

He gently grips your jaw to turn your face and face his, pushing your hair away from your face with his knuckles.

"As long as you don’t care, I won't care. I don't need sex. I just need you."

You pout, he sighs, his shoulders slumping, you're not letting this go or being reassured. He can't blame you, men are known for being needy, needing something tight and warm to dump their cum in and expect enthusiastic moaning in response.

"You're not thinking properly," he murmurs, "You're makin' a problem in your head when you're not thinking logically. Do you honestly believe I'd be mad at you because you don't have experience? Really?"

"I'm mad at myself, I do want to, but it's going to be the same thing every time..."

Keegan groans.

He knew it.

He knew you were thinking something you shouldn't have been.

"Don't blame yourself. You can't help it, and I'm not blaming you. It happens. I understand that. We'll figure it out. Baby, it doesn't bother me."

"It bothers me!" You correct frustratedly, "I want to have a sex life, I want to enjoy it like you can, I want... I want what I can't have,"

Keegan's chest twists into a knot of pain, your confession is raw and honest.

It's insane hearing you speak like this, how you're getting down on yourself, thinking you can't do something or that something isn't right with you.

The first step is making you feel better.

The second is helping you feel good.

And maybe, some wisdom can help.

"Hey, look at me," he whispers, gently tipping your chin up. "It's not just about gettin' off."

Your eyebrows knit tightly, "what?"

He gives a slight scoff, gently rubbing the nape of your neck.

"It’s not about the end. It’s not about gettin' off. That's just the bonus. It’s not the main goal." he states matter-of-factly, lightly squeezing your hip. "You think that you're not satisfying my needs by not having an orgasm, but you are. You're pleasing me. You're makin' me feel closer to you."

"But that's..." You faulter, confused.

You must think it's supposed to be like porn or some shit. Like you're supposed to feel what they are acting, what isn't real. Shame on the ones who didn't treat you fairly, shame on them.

"But what? But how? Don't tell me no one's taken the time to do what you like." he echoes, lightly rubbing your hip.

What you need to understand, is to get out of your own head for a while. That's one of the problems, you're thinking too much about it. You are too caught up in your head, the what if's, the how's, all of that needs to leave you conscious.

"Do you want to know what actually does get me going?" he murmurs, leaning in to brush his nose against yours.

"It's how you smile at me," he confesses, his fingers tracing over your spine, rubbing small circles, "The way your laugh makes me laugh. The way you look, the way you talk," his voice drops an octave lower, the words coming out like a grumble. "That's what makes me want you, and those small things are better than an orgasm."

"So you just pop a boner every second I'm here?"

The bark of laughter that escapes is true and gravelly, a slight chuckle bubbling in your own throat. And, yes, you are correct.

"You make it sound so crude," he retorts, "but I ain't gonna lie. I do get hard for you. Lots. Especially with the way you dress, and the things you do, even if you're just going about your day."

His fingers trail up and down your spine, tracing the outline of your shoulder blades. He nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, enjoying the intimacy of just holding you.

"Being hard is just a little reaction, baby," he murmurs, lips lightly brushing against your neck. "It doesn't mean it has to lead to something."

"I want something like that with you, though,"

Keegan frowns.

"You already have something like that with me," he soothes, placing kisses down your neck, lips pressing against your racing pulse. His hand slides up under your– his –shirt to rest against the small of your back.

"I told you, you're already pleasing me. I get like this without you trying to do anything." he murmurs in your ear, gently nipping your earlobe. "It just happens, baby."

You let out a ragged sigh in frustration, and this time you are trying to focus to his satisfaction. "No, Keegan, I want to sleep with you,"

You want him.

It awakens something in the deep, dark recess of his mind. A low growl echoing in his ribcage, ricocheting off the columns of bones, a beast coming out of a deep hibernation with an insatiable hunger shows it's ugly head.

"Yeah," he exhales, shifting in his seat, trying to ignore the way your words and bluntness are stirring something in his gut.

"That's obvious." he breathes.

"And it makes me think I'm selfish to say that I won't get anything out of it, because my body doesn't want to cooperate."

Keegan's eyes soften, the sight of you being like this cutting through his feels like a knife. He looks at you for a moment, silently trying to think of what to say. To reassure you, to comfort you.

To whoever hurt you like this, death is too kind of a sentence.

Then he lifts his hand, gently running his knuckles down your jaw, "You aren't selfish for wanting something. Nothin's wrong with you— there ain't a person alive who works perfectly."

You're going to keep blaming yourself, he knows it.

He knows you’re going to continue to tell yourself that there’s something wrong with you, that you won’t satisfy him, that you’re a disappointing partner and will continue to feel this way until you snap.

You won't break while he's around.

He won't let you be like this.

He has an idea.

"Listen to me, angel." he rasps.

He cups your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. His thumbs gently graze your cheeks, forcing you to pay attention to him.

"You're gonna do it."

Do what? The question sits on your tongue before it's squashed out of existence as he lays you against the arm of the couch, his legs prying yours apart to lay opposite of you.

"I'm going to teach you something," he grunts, settling on his back while you're splayed out half on his lap like a silver platter.

"Show me what you like."

"Like...?" You prompt tensely, fingers curling into the hem of his tee sprawled on the top of your thighs.

"I'm serious," he responds, his hands slowly trailing up your leg, fingertips brushing over the outside of your thighs. He gently pushes up the fabric of his shirt that you're wearing, your pretty panties on full view for him to see again.

"I'm completely serious. I wanna know what you like, baby. This," he grabs the inside of your thigh, giving it a squeeze, "—its all about connection. Not the sex itself. It's trust,"

You squirm under his gaze, your skin painting with color, teeth capturing your swollen lips- oh, Keegan's always had a thing for the shy ones.

"You want me to—"

"Touch yourself."

He slowly drags his hand down to your knee, pushing it further away, tucking the bend over a thick thigh. His touch is careful, and his words come out low and quiet. Hungry.

"I want you to show me. I want you to trust me enough to show me what you like. Tell me. Guide me."

For a moment, you just blink and stare in shock. He just rubs his hand up and down your calf, trying to bring you out of your stupor. This, the problem, is that you think too much. You're over complicating something that is meant to be fun, something that can be amazing.

"Hey, hey." he calls, giving your calf a small squeeze. "Don't get lost in your head, baby. Come back here. Just nod and then tell me. I won't even touch you,"

The trepidation in your eyes holds you back, the cogs churn in your head, a dozen thoughts flashing through. You need to trust him with this, but he also understands that he shouldn't push you. He can't push you and he won't.

"It's just me here, baby. Just wanna watch, that's all I'll do." he reassures, "Nobody else. It's just us."

Your skin is silk under rough callouses, like a calm night in the ocean pushing against the barnacle riddled hull cutting through in a choppy push and turn.

"Don't think, just follow what feels right. I won't pressure you or touch you unless you want me to. It's all up to you. Can you do that for me, baby?"

And then the moment of truth, you nod.

"Good girl." 

Keegan gives a slight nod, his expression struggling to hide his excitement, the curiosity for something new. He gently grabs both of your thighs, coaxing you to bring your legs up until your feet lay next to his ribs. From his angle he can see between your legs, that small wet spot at your slit already forming, he's becoming hot and heavy at the mere sight.

"Just relax," he mutters, "Just relax, baby. I just want you to feel comfortable."

You hum quietly, moving with his guidance to situate yourself.

"That's it," he whispers, his breath coming out in a deep exhale.

His hands slide down your soft thighs, watching intently as you make yourself comfortable, your body open and exposed to him. You squirm your back around, elbowing the pillow behind you to lay comfortably on a even surface. Your hips wiggle down, accommodating for his wide man spread.

God, this: seeing you like this, the way you trust him, the way you listen to him. It makes his heart race to no end.

"Alright," he murmurs. "You're all done? You're comfortable?"

You nod again, your face tucked down as it turns a warm, deep red color from the exposure and sheer shyness of the exposure.

"Look at me," he quietly reminds you. "Stay here, don't get lost in your head. You're doing good, baby."

You exhale softly and nod, limbs going lax over his legs.

Keegan's eyes rake over you, taking in the sight of your bare legs opened for him, your thighs trembling softly around firm muscle prying them open. His hands glide over your calves, fingers tracing along the soft flesh.

"Fucking beautiful like this," he murmurs, the comment slipping from his lips before he can even realize it.

He bites the inside of his cheek, silently scolding himself for his outburst. He not trying to scare you, doesn’t want you to think he’s some perverted freak. He might be, with you. He just thinks you look amazing like this.

He rubs his hand up and down the inside of your calf, hoping to distract you so he can get his bearings.

"So smooth," he comments, shifting his hips, "No razor burn."

He watches as your hand drifts down the front of the shirt you’re wearing, tracing down your stomach to the waistband of your panties. He swallows hard, thoughts becoming dirtier by the second.

"I want you to take the shirt off," he instructs rough and deep, a way to gather himself before the show starts, "I want to see you."

A low growl vibrates in his throat as you pull off his shirt, tossing it to the floor. His eyes rake over every exposed inch of skin for the second time, drinking in the sight of you like a starving man.

It's just as good as 20 minutes ago, seeing you shirtless for the first time and this is just as good.

He lets out a shaky pant, his hand gripping the edge of the couch cushion as he forces himself to stay still.

"God, look at you." he whispers, his eyes roaming over your breasts heaving with your breathing.

Keegan's eyes are snap to your hands as they go to your panties, watching as your fingers lightly dip beneath the edge of the lacy waistband.

He keeps his lips pressed tight together, forcing himself to remain still and quiet. A quick rush of excitement and anticipation swirls inside of him, stirring up his insides.

"Slide them down." he instructs in a rough and gravelly strain, "Slowly, take them off, baby."

Your fingers push them down over each swell of your hips, hooking off your ankle for his greedy hand to snatch them away from you, stuffing them unceremoniously into his pocket.

He returns his hands to rubbing your legs, trying to soothe and distract you so you’re not so shy and uncomfortable.

"So good to me," he murmurs, shifting in excitement. "You’re doing so good."

You shiver under his hot touch, the gentle brush of his fingers sending tremors through you.

"So goddamn sexy, baby," he whispers, squeezing your thighs. His gaze rakes down your now-naked body, his dark eyes drinking in your glistening pussy.

He knows he's losing control. He's slowly becoming more impatient. He wants to touch you, to take you, but he has to remain vigilant. Has to do this for you.

He has to hold back his base primal instincts. He can’t remember the last time he was this excited, this turned on.

You look so goddamn beautiful.

Your fingers shyly touch, aware that there is an audience as you play with your slippery folds.

Keegan has almost turned into a statue, his body unmoving save for the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He watches intently, his hands clawing into his thighs to keep himself under control.

You're so unbelievably wet, and he promised to not touch you and he hasn't, and you're wet.

He’s almost aching to, so tempted to take over, to bring you the pleasure he knows you want, what he knows he can bring.

For now he can imagine your hand has his.

"Go on." he murmurs, his voice thick, "just go slow for me, baby. I'm right here."

Your fingers push your folds apart for him, your hood pulling back to expose that oh so sensitive clit poking out. Your labia slumps to the side, your drooling hole leaking everywhere—

Keegan purrs in need, at least he gets to see your bare cunt like this for the first time. Every tease, every ghosting touch, he imagined as his own.

You let out a shuttering breath as you circle your clit slowly,

"Y-You're just gonna... Sit there?"

He wants to touch you, to replace your own fingers with his, that is something he will confidently admit.

A low guttural growl rumbles deep in his throat, his breathing becoming more and more ragged. This was a bad idea. He should've just picked you up and brought you to the bedroom, took it much slower, gave you all the attention you need, not done this.

He didn't realize how torturous and good this would be.

"Yes," he grits out, his eyes glued to your fingers. "Just watching you."

Your fingers trace down to your hole, curling in only to cover it from his eyes.

He tears his gaze up to you like a heavy weight with a heated look, "Unless you want me to do something?"

He does want to do something, to touch you and give you the sex you deserve, but this is for you. This is to see what you like, how you react to things, how you want it.

He's doing this for you.

He's doing it to please you.

"Relax. Do what you'd normally do. What you like, feels good doesn't it, baby?" he rumbles. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, trying to ease the dryness in his mouth.

Your hips jerk up softly, the length of your finger grinding up and down, up and down, slow and rhythmic, every pass of your second knuckle brings a twitch to your thighs.

"Can you... Do it too?" You breathe, forcing your eyes to stay open as your fingers work.

A small smile stretches across his features, a thrill of excitement running through him at your request.

"I'm gonna need a little more than that, baby," he growls, his eyes struggling to decide looking at you, your hand, and your absolutely soaked pussy, "Say exactly what you want me to do."

You whine, "Touch yourself too,"

A shudder runs down his spine at your words. This…this is not how he thought this would go. He didn't expect the roles to be reversed, to be the one being put on the spot like this.

The thought of you watching him as he touched himself…

"Fuck," he grunts gruffly, his cock twitching against the inside of his waistband.

He palms himself as his head dips back, growling lowly. He just needs a moment to collect himself. He just needs one moment of clarity.

Finally, after a few tense seconds, he looks up at you, undoing the button and fly to tug himself out. He definitely didn't think this would be how you see him for the first time, but fuck it there's a first time for everything tonight now.

He's unbelievably hard. Tip tacky with smears of pre cum that's still drying on his hip, flushed red and angry, veins popping on the underside of his shaft.

You whimper softly, fingers slipping down to collect slick and rotating back.

He lets out a harsh breath, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head. He'd just need a little bit of stimulation, just something to match you.

"Give me some," he orders.

Your fingers delve into your folds, gathering what you can and coyly reaching for him, lathering his base up to the ridge of skin on the underside of his cock.

Keegan lets out a hiss, his eyes fluttering shut. The muscles in his abdomen flex hard as you touch carefully, a shudder running through his body at the contact.

He feels like he's going to bust any second.

Your touch was heavenly. He was aching and now your touch was just teasing him.

A low guttural growl emits from him, a deep rumble in his chest.

"Don't look away." he demands, his eyes locked on you like a predator and it's prey.

His hand closes around your wrist, stilling your movement for a moment.

"See how bad you've made me want you?" He rasps darkly.

He releases you, purring in satisfaction as your fingers work desperately on yourself, chasing that lightning bolt feeling deep inside your aching cunt.

"Do what you'd normally do," he instructs in a low rumble, his hand stroking in time with you. "I won’t move."

You've done a number on him, making him so hard he's almost about to cum at just the sight.

He wants to break.

He's just about reached his limit.

His muscles are tense and his blood is pumping, and it's taking every ounce of his restraint to not pounce and devour you.

He's in too deep now. He can't back out.

He's just got to see it through.

This is about trust and about letting you take control.

It's not unwelcome, but it is certainly different.

"I like watching this. Seeing you like this," he pants, his hand squeezing as he downstrokes hard, "So damn sexy, knowing you're all mine, huh?"

"Yours," you mewl, your hips straining up against your fingers.

Keegan's other hand is curled into a fist so tight he feels as if he might break it. He strokes himself tighter, ruddy tip peeking with every pass.

The sight of him makes you writhe in place, your fingers almost slipping off yourself with every frantic motion.

"Yeah, that's right," he grunts, shifting himself so he has a better view. "All mine. This is mine. Show me. Show me what mine looks like."

One dainty finger sinks into your far to empty hole, your slit stretching around the thicker base of your finger.

Every muscle in his body tightens, his eyes rolling almost to the back of his head. His hand speeds up as he watches it live, his breath turning into hot pants.

"Holy shit," he rasps, unable to look away how your finger tells him how tight you are.

His hips roll upward, aching for pressure, for someone to touch him. He's dying to be in you, to feel that tight heat.

"Yeah?" he breathes huskily, "Feels good? You like that angel?"

"So good, especially right here—" you whimper, palm angling down on hyper sensitive nerves.

He looks wrecked, he is wrecked, his mouth open and panting, his eyes locked on your body like a starving man.

"Show me, let me see more,"

"I-Its inside," you murmur meekly, your pupils blown wide, showing the pretty glimmer of tiny tears.

"Yeah?" he purrs hoarsely.

He shifts his legs wider and dips his chin down to watch you fuck yourself to him fucking himself. His brain is overloaded, completely overwhelmed. He's not sure how much more he can handle, how much more he can watch.

"How deep?" he growls, flaring tip coming into view as each tug pulls foreskin away.

Your thighs twitch, toes curling next to his waist.

"I can barely reach," you whimper.

A guttural sound emanates from his chest, his body almost trembling from the effort of staying still.

"Show me, baby," he instructs, "Show me how far you can reach."

His eyes are glued to your glistening finger as you lay it on your pussy, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, He's never seen someone like this wet before, this needy, for him. He's going to lose it, the control he's kept so closely being ripped from his grasp.

This was too much.

Having you so willing, so open. It's almost too much

All from him.

"Shit, I'd do anything to taste you. C'mon, don't stop now," he begs breathlessly.

This, you were driving him crazy, making him want to do things, say things.

He's never like this, normally in control of himself, but there is something about you that just makes his head spin, makes his control slip.

You're an image of pure lust and ecstasy, something for him to relish and drink in, and that's all he can do.

"Good girl," he croons roughly, "so pretty when you do what you're told."

He’s completely lost in the moment, his breathing heavy and ragged, the wet sound of your slick as lube for his cock, the soft feminine pants coming from you, this is the best he's had and he's not even fucking you.

"So good, aren't you?" he rumbles, his eyes locked on you like a hawk. "You like this, huh? Tell me how it feels."

The sounds coming out of you have him absolutely weak he hasn't done anything to you, his head is almost spinning from lack of blood.

"S'good," you slur, the pads of your fingers pressing into your bud harder.

He pants and grits his teeth at the sight, resisting the urge to move closer to you, fuck you with his fingers, his cock. His eyes are hooded, his gaze dark and heated as he watches you, a low guttural growl purring in his chest.

"Yeah?" he grunts, his body trembling with the effort to remain still and not cum. "Keep going, you gotta tell me more than that."

Keegan is a man of straight to the point. Always has been, needing direct and clear.

You gasp softly, your hips canting against your fingers, "Feels s'good I wanna... Put your cock in my mouth and.. play with myself,"

His body jerks and trembles when your words ring in his ears.

"Oh fuck." he hisses, his head tossing back.

He loves watching this, seeing you tease and play like he's not there.

He's never heard you this vulgar before, this crude, he's pushed you so much to this point.

He doesn't mind it though, in fact he thinks it’s beyond hot.

"You want that? You gotta come first," his hand pumps faster.

You whine, "yes,"

His hand is almost a blur, his eyes glued to you. His head struggling to not roll back.

"You're so damn close baby," he croons. "I can see it. You just gotta let go." He pants, swallowing hard.

The pressure is building, rapidly, unstoppable.

"Stay with me, alright? Keep going, just focus, you're doing so good,"

Two of your fingers rub furiously at your clit, moaning and watching his fist tug himself off to you.

"Don't look away," he warns, his voice gruff and thick. "Keep those eyes on me."

He's barely holding it together, barely holding himself back as he watches you. He's completely captivated, unable to look away.

"Just a little more," he rumbles, his hand working in time with your own, "You close?" He almost mocks.

"Yes," you whimper, legs shaking and flexing.

"That's it, baby, I can see it," he groans, his hand pumping faster. "You're almost there."

He's almost delirious, so lost in the moment he's not even caring that he's dry jerking.

Your fingers circle twice more, a breath stuttering in your lungs, eyebrows scrunching, and oh— there it is.

It's pure, raw bliss on your face. Your eyes screw shut, your thighs shake on top of his, your hole fluttering around nothing—

That does it for him.

With a throaty groan he creates a tight fist over his cock head, cumming messily and seeping out through his fingers on his stomach and soft patch of hair below his navel.

“Goddamn," he murmurs roughly, watching as your body quakes and trembles with pleasure. "Good girl, good girl," he praises with heavy grit in his voice, his hand slowing with every pulse of his cock.

The look on your face is one of pure bliss, of pleasure. He's absolutely enamored by it.

"Come here," he rumbles, reaching out for you. He pulls you to him effortlessly, placing you between his legs.

His skin is burning, his drive to show you how good you are, how good you did overpowering all logic. He grips the back of your neck, fiercely kissing you with fervour.

"Did so fucking good, angel."

You melt against him, ass perched in the air chest to chest and kissing him back. He grabs a handful of your hair, tilting your head to kiss you deeper and knead one of your ass cheeks.

"How'd you like that?" he rasps as he continues to kiss you, nipping softly along your jaw.

He can't stop his hands, they're roaming and touching you everywhere they can, pushing your tits up to sit in his palms, finger dimpling into your soft waist, his tongue licking into your empty maw.

"Believe me now? How perfect you are?"

You moan brokenly against his lips, and just like that he's hard again.

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

June 30th

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1. Ok this might be a shot in the dark. But do you know of a fic where basically it’s an arranged marriage (kind of) between lan zhan and trans (ftm) wei ying. It believe it is based on a reddit thread of a gay guy who got into an arranged marriage with a woman, but they actually are a trans man. Anyways…the reddit posts are deleted by now. But I remember reading this fic a couple years back and I can’t find it anywhere. Either it’s been deleted or hopefully someone else is able to find it 😭

FOUND? Lift Us Where Suffering Cannot Reach by Khashana (T, 8k, WangXian, Modern, Arranged Marriage, Marriage of Convenience, fake married, Sort Of, Rule 63, Trans Woman WWX, Partial Cisswap, implied background/societal homo/transphobia, But nothing overt, background LXC/Qin Su also in a marriage of convenience way, gender euphoria, the mortifying ordeal of falling in love with your spouse, based on that one reddit post, Light Angst, Light Pining, this fic is soft mostly) I think #1 might be this one, although wwx is a trans woman in it (it's a wlw wangxian AU) rather than a trans man

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2. Hi!! I cant remember if I already sent this or just thought really hard about it 😪 Im looking for a modern AU fic where WWX is dx'd ADHD and he and LWJ slowly start a relationship. The scene I remember most clearly is there being fireworks and it send LWJ into a meltdown. Ether just before or after the meltdown he found out LXC and LQR have been trying to get him diagnosed with Autism.

Xiao Xingchen is an adult psych who specalizes in neurodivergence iirc, and WWX helps make LWJ feel more okay w possibly being neurodiverse by talking about his experience w ADHD and Xiao Xingchen.

🙇‍♀️ thank you! @la-voce-to-me

FOUND! together, we're just enough by lulu_kitty (E, 134k, WangXian, Modern AU, Bartender LWJ, single dad wwx, Kid fic (sort of), Excessive Fluff, Yearning, neurodivergent wangxian, canonical parental issues, lwj in jewelry, accidental sugar gege wwx, Bottom LWJ, Service Top WWX, Bisexual WWX, Rich WWX, a-yuan is a wei but still also a wen, wwx is a-yuan's biological baba, Older WWX, Younger LWJ, Slow-ish burn, Light Dom/sub, Brief LWJ/Others, Past WWX/Other(s)) sounds a lot like the happenings in chapter 8!

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3. hey admins! i'm looking for a fic where wwx is from the modern world back and somehow goes back in time to the cloud recesses and spends some time there, and towards the end of the fic lwj goes back to the modern with wwx. (i also remember that wwx and lwj goes back and forth often visiting each others home) thanks! <3

FOUND? Wrong Turn, Right Place by diamondbruise (E, 71k, WangXian, Time Travel, kind of, it’s more reality travel but there’s modern wwx and cultivator lwj, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Jealousy, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Cultural Differences)

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4. This for fic finder. Its an old fic. Modern au focused on junior quartet. I dont know if the fic is several fic or in one fic. Junior quartet is in a club where they make a magazine (sorry i forgot the word both in my language and in english). They have an access to a school forum. LJY found an old forum talking about wangxian. Like the people in that forum failed to make wangxian happen in the past. If i remember correctly, they tried to matchmake wangxian. They ask LWJ to accompany them to yunmeng. In yunmeng, there are big festival happened there and they meet the jiang family in second floor of the restaurant to watch the festival from there. I think the jiangs is a respectable family that many people know them. So long story short, they manage to matchmake wangxian. I dont know if LJY release the news to that old forum or someone did. Just that LJY have an inkling the account that helped them is NHS. I dont know if this is important but LJY username has connection to chicken. I think thats all. Thank you @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

FOUND! Operation Old Men by Chiharu (Not Rated, 37k, WangXIan, JL & LSZ & LJY, JYL/JZX, Modern, Boarding School, Single Parents, Everyone Is Alive, Matchmaking, Family Dynamics, Hospitals, Meet the Family, Family Vacation, Weddings, School Reunion, Happy Ending)

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5. this for ficfinder! i need help looking for a time travel fic wherein established wangxian travel back to their teen years. iirc wwx and lwj writes to each other in secret and wwx invents talismans to give to the jiang sect so that he can repay his debts and leave the clan when he is at a certain age. lwj also leaves (??). i think they become rogue cultivators tgt. im pretty sure i have this downloaded but i cant find it from hundreds of fics bc i cant rmbr the name 😭

FOUND! Trials of Time by Muggle_Diary (E, 32k, wangxian, major character death, underage, time travel, not jiang friendly, not YZY friendly, not JC friendly, butterfly effect)

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6. Hello!! So i think the fic got deleted but all i can remember was wangxian had mythical creature eggs? Like they had a dragon,tiger,snake&turqoise and phoenix and they can talk telepathically at first then they can shift to humans later on!Thank you again so much!!!!

FOUND? For #6 with telepathic creatures, I haven't read the fic, but could it be that magical marriage ribbons series?

FOUND? #6 is My Immortal. I can't do the link on I'm my phone. It has the mythical beasts.

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7. Hii, I'm looking for a fic in which lan zhan goes to a party with lan xichen and then keeps going to the same house where the party is at many times and hangs out with wei ying on the basement sofa

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8. hii!! i recently read a fanfic where wei wuxian can't sleep because he gets horrible nightmares, there's one particular scene where the juniors are practically dragging him into cloud recesses, and he's falling asleep whilst walking and they meet with Lan wangji. if you could help me find it, that would be super great !! @spaaarkie

FOUND? hunters seeking solid ground by Attila (E, 23k, wangxian, Canon Compliant, discussion of canon character death, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, bed sharing, Getting Together, Yearning, Literal Sleeping Together, Really Excessive Amounts of Hurt/Comfort)

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9. I thought I had subscribed to this fic but I guess not... Looking for a WIP in which WWX is ambushed in Yiling, but he has A-Yuan with him so he's extra desperate in trying to fight the attackers off. There might be fire involved? Either the title, the description or the tags have some reference to "hysterical strength" (maybe! not 100% sure about that one!). Thank you. 🖤❤️ @linderel

FOUND! Hysterical Strength by covalentbonds (Not rated, 3k, WangXian, WIP, Canon Divergence, Inspired by a Bollywood movie scene, Everyone Lives/Nobody dies, Parent WWX)

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10. hi!! i'm looking for a fic i read about a year ago(?) on ao3, where during the cloud recesses study arc (i think?) lqr and the other teachers notice that wwx's basic education is lacking and wwx says it's because yzy doesn't let him join jc's lessons because wwx is supposed to be a right hand man and his education is therefore less important, so the lan elders and scholars all team up to give him remedial lessons; i think there's also a part where they build a case against the jiang sect because the sect scholars failed their responsibility to teach their disciples equally. the fic holding shreds by barisan reminds me of it a little bit, but instead of yzy's physical abuse of wwx the one i'm looking for is all about the emotional abuse and education inequality

FOUND?🔒💖 Hoards and treasures by apathyinreverie (T, 21k, WangXian, Siblings, Family, not particularly Jiang friendly, YZY Bashing, slightly darker Gusu Lans, LXC being the best brother, Some manipulation, But with the best of intentions, and not between wangxian, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Smitten LWJ, Fluff, perfect happiness, adorable WWX, Romance, Some worldbuilding, courting) in this one, Xichen is speculating that WWXs education was stunted, especially in sect etiquette, deliberately by mme yu.

FOUND?🔒 in the shadow of moonlit flowers by Reverie (cl410) (T, 56k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, cloud recesses, NHS & LWJ friendship, developing relationship, LWJ pov, minor injuries, autistic LWJ, implied/referenced child abuse, aka YZY warning, genius WWX, light angst, hurt/comfort, WWX protection squad) in this one the lan sect does the scholar case thing where they accuse jiang sect of failing their duties by neglecting to educate wei ying.

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11. hi, i'm looking for a fic which i found on twitter but im sure links to AO3 — basically everyone in the universe is some sort of animal (wwx is a fox, lwj is a dragon?) and they're classified by their mating cycles (whether they mate for life or seasonally). wwx and lwj gets engaged but lwj calls it off as wwx is a fox and therefore mates seasonally vs his for-life situation. wwx gets sad about it and then they find out wwx actually can mate for life! i used to find it easily before but for some reason no matter what i search, it just won't come up and i don't think i was logged into ao3 at the time i read it either. hope someone remembers it as well, thanks!

FOUND? what you have tamed by lianhua_lianzi, Senforza (E, 94k, WangXian, Animal Traits, misunderstandings, Courting Rituals, Pining, Lan family dynamics, Drama, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Arranged Marriage, Wangxian break up but get back together, Eventual Happy Ending, Implied Mpreg, Unresolved Sexual Tension, unintentional and eventually resolved “gaslighting”, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX)

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12. Hi I’m trying to find a fic where jiang Cheng is being forced to get married/find an heir. I remember that a member of YunmengJiang approached him with a list of members of the sect that would leave if he didn’t get an heir. I think it was mentioned that people were okay with him not having getting married since they assumed Jin Ling would inherit and Jin Guangyao would have another child but once his crimes were revealed they started to pressure him.

I know it wasn’t a Jiang cheng/lan Xichen or jiang cheng/nie Huaisang

FOUND? Karma by such_stuff_as_dreams_are_made_on (Not Rated, 2k, JC & OCs, Post-Canon, Arranged Marriage, Light Angst, Minor WangXian, Not JC Friendly)

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13. I’m trying to find this fic where Wei Ying is looking for spouse for some reason and he starts asking everyone in Cloud Recesses but Lan Zhan even ask LXC to be his partner right in front of LWJ

If you have an idea about what I’m talking about thank you!!

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14. so theres this fic in which jiang cheng and wei wuxian sit in a boat in jiang cheng's memories and wei wuxian sings a song that he altered slightly. im pretty sure it was a reconcilliation fic but im not sure but jc was a bit emotional. i can't find it, please help!

related to the previous ask, what i described is also only a scene from that fic and probably not what the entire fic is about. i only remember that one scene. @theartisticdoofus

FOUND? sing to the clouds in summerby stiltonbasket (G, 28k, JC & WWX, JC & JL, wangxian, JL & LSZ & LJY & OYZZ, 13k words of JC figuring out that LSZ is his nephew, ft. LXC and NHS the overprotective uncles, and LWJ giving JC death glares, Family Secrets, Reconciliation, Sad JC, Uncle-Nephew Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Podfic Available) the song is in chapter 4

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15. Dear FicFinder Team, here I am again with only vibes and one scene. It was a WIP CQL post-canon fic, set during WWX's wanderings. At some point he exorcises a ghost in a tower (not one of the watchtower fics tho) and the last scene was WWX on his way back, kneeling in the grass to make offerings to his shijie and finally letting himself cry about her death. Maybe there were food descriptions too, I read this very early on and cannot find it in my history. It was exquisitely written too. @kinoumenthe

FOUND! the earth remembered me by remux (T, 30k, WIP, WangXian, POV WWX, Post-Canon, Emotional Edging, Letters, emotional support strangers, Original Character(s), lwj's quiet devotion)

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16. Do you know the name for a fic where WWX is invisible (for some reason) and is in LWJ room (for some reason) and WWX watches LWJ hump a pillow but then LWJ notices that someone is in the room with him yada yada they have sex i forget when it gets revealed that it’s WWX

NOT FOUND! Mak Siccar by therealandraste (E, 20k, WangXian, Case Fic, Post-Canon, Misunderstandings, Pining, Happy Ending, Paperman smut - only god can judge me, Original Character Death(s)) the details don't exactly fit but

FOUND! Clinomania by malkinmalkout (E, 6k, WangXian, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Somnophilia, misuse of talismans, PWP, Riding, Oral Sex, binding, Happy Ending, canon typical non-con)

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17. hello I'm looking for this twitter threadfic written by cerbykerby where wwx is a mermaid captured and brought in for studying by scientist lwj and others, and they eventually become mates. i've tried looking through their account for it but the fic is old and the search is way too far down, and i can't find the full fic. pls help out thanks!

FOUND? this is the unrolled threadfic by cerbykerby, I think

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18. Hi! First time requesting something like this, but I really need help finding this one fanfic. It’s a incomplete wangxian fanfic and the summary of what I remember was that when WWX wakes up in MXY’s body after thirteen years, people are actually praising YL WWX because somehow (I cant remember how) the truth behind his actions and why he did what he did in the first place. JC faces some hate from the cultivation world, JL doesn’t hate WWX, and LWJ is extremely protective of WWX. Hope all this information helps!!! @nikki-g-m

Could #18 be that fic where a painter/theater guy did an interview with drunk wwx during the burial mounds arc and then it got published after his death so that when he resurrects its's all settled already (?). I dont remember the name either but maybe someone else will

FOUND? 💖 The Ballad of Hanguang-Jun and The Yiling Patriarch by Theladyofravenclaw (T, 40k, WangXian, ChengQing, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Burial Mounds Arc, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Humor, musical theater?, Misunderstandings, POV Outsider, Crack treated seriously) The commenter on 18 was thinking of The ballad of Hanguang-jun and the Yiling Patriarch, though idk if this is the fic OP wants

FOUND? i think its deleted? Have You Heard Of The Yiling Patriach by R_PONTS

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19. literally just reading a random wangxian fic when I I remembered this one fic I read a while ago. I can’t really remember a lot of details but from what I remember Wei ying is the cloud recess for whatever reason and he get the silencing spell out on him and he panicked and starts scratching and clawing at his throat and everybody’s watching horrified like please y’all help me remember 😭 @saintzx

FOUND?🔒 The Second Hand Unwinds by trulywicked (E, 56k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, WIP, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Time Travel Fix-It, Not JC Friendly, Not Yunmeng Jiang Sect Friendly, Not Jiāng Family Friendly, Not YZY Friendly, Time Travelling LWJ, Protective LWJ, Fluff, Minor Angst, Minor Character Death, JGS is his own warning, Wooing, LWJ is romantic af, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Protective Gusu Lan Sect, Supportive LXC, Good Uncle LQR, WWX Protection Squad) The clawing is because he's desperate to defend JC against LQR's (rightful) admonishing, after JYL told him he should've tried harder after being silenced on a previous occasion defending JC

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20. Hello

Love your blog!

A) I'm looking for a fic where wwx was raised by WRH, but it is introduced with him being the one to raze Cloud Recess and starting ti flirt with a prisoner LWJ who's very much " bro, wtf" in his inner monologue.

He's bff w Xye Yang and at one point thinks of doing lwj favors

B) Modern au where wwx and lwj had been married, adopted LSZ and then divorced due to someone either framing wwx or LWJs fam pressuring him to it. Wwx still has visitation rights and all, and at one point lwj buys them a house as an apology, but wwx is less than cash money above it, bcs lwj didn't truly fix the mistrust or whatever the reason for their breakup was @midnightlighthowlite

20B)

FOUND? 🔒 Life as a House by Terri Botta (Isilwath) (T, 55k, WangXian, Modern AU, Corporate Espionage, Post-Divorce, Father-Son Relationship, Reconciliation, Therapy)

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21. Hello there, I’m not sure if this is a fic finder or an in the mood for, because I’m looking for a fic and more like that.

So you know how theres this TikTok Sound of someone called Nick who asks for the WLAN Password and its I Love You Nick and Nick is in a lot of denial about being lovers even though their anniversary is coming up?

I found a fic that was basically WY and LZ in a relationship, and WY/LZ (but more likely WY) didn’t realise that they were anything more than friends, and it was very funny.

More comedic than anything else. But I cannot for the life of me find it, and everytime I try and search for it, only the sad version shows up.

Please send help, I need to read this fluff….I crave it. @desperation-is-my-middle-name

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[annafayeink]

Canvas of Lies

summary: Cate’s life is a careful balance of paint-splattered sweaters, rejection emails, and dreams too big to fit in her tiny apartment. Lu’s life is all charm, designer sneakers, and family obligations that come with impossible expectations. They’re best friends, polar opposites—and suddenly fake dating to help Lu survive a high-stakes family dinner. What starts as an improvised act becomes a whirlwind of tangled stories, unspoken truths, and moments that blur the line between pretend and reality. In the chaos of lies they craft together, Cate and Lu might just uncover the truths they’ve been avoiding all along.

warnings & tags: best friends to lovers; fake dating; mutual pining; slow burn; emotional hurt/comfort; fluff, angst & humor; eventual romance & smut;

Chapter Two

Lu leaned against the counter, absently playing with a baguette like a philosopher pondering the mysteries of life. “You know, the key to a convincing lie is to anchor it in truth.”

“Is that so?” I lifted an eyebrow at him, crossing my arms.

“Absolutely,” he replied, unflinching, dipping into the professorial voice he reserved for when he was lecturing someone. “It's basic psychology. People are more likely to believe a lie if it's anchored in something real. That's why we should stick to things we know—places we visit often, mutual friends, things we've both experienced in some way. It makes the story feel lived-in. Plausible.”

“I'll take your word for it, Professor Mangione.” I bit back a grin. “You seem disturbingly good at lying. Should I be worried?”

“I've read my fair share of books on human behaviour.” Lu smirked, picking up the baguette before resuming his pacing like a man on a mission.

“Remind me never to play poker with you.”

He chuckled. “Truth is, lying is not much different from storytelling. The same principles apply. Every great story needs a consistent internal logic. If we’re going to make this convincing, we need to think like writers.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t deny that his point made sense. “Fine, O Wise One. How do we make our fake relationship Pulitzer-worthy?”

“Glad you asked.” Suddenly animated, he gestured wildly with the baguette as he spoke. “People believe what feels authentic. If our story has details that are too perfect or too rehearsed, it'll fall apart. People will start picking at them—”

“Like a loose thread on a sweater, yeah.”

“But if it's imperfect, unpredictable, and grounded in who we are… then it works.”

“I can do imperfect,” I say. “My life is one big ball of entropy.”

“Exactly,” Lu grinned like I'd just proven his point. “If we lean into that, sprinkle in a few real moments—your terrible dancing, my savior complex—we’ll be untouchable.”

“Terrible dancing?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“You're right,” he replied with mock seriousness. “That was unfair. ‘’Terrible’ doesn't quite capture it.”

I threw a balled-up napkin at him, laughing despite myself.

“We will need to set some rules,” he declared, jabbing the bread in my direction for emphasis. “Without rules, things get messy.”

“Messy? Like crumbs on my floor?” I flicked a stray flake from the croissant he’d brought over earlier, trying to keep a straight face.

Lu shot me a sharp look and placed the baguette on the counter again. “I’m serious. If we're not convincing enough, my mother will sniff out the truth faster than you can say ‘respectable’.”

I couldn't imagine what his mother would do if she found out we were faking it. I'm guessing it would probably involve shame, a string of painfully awkward family dinners for him and absolute social suicide for me.

“And what happens if she does?” I asked, arching a brow. “What’s the worst-case scenario here, Lu? You get disowned and have to slum it with the rest of us peasants?”

His smile faltered, just for a fraction of a second, but long enough for me to notice the way his shoulders stiffened. A tiny pang of guilt pierced my heart. I’d only meant to tease, but something about his expression made me wonder if there was more truth to my words than I realized. The smirk that followed was smooth, almost too smooth, like a patch slapped over something cracked.

“Actually, worst-case scenario, she tries to set me up with someone like…” He grimaced comically. “Anastasia Ricci.”

That made me wince instinctively. Everyone knew about Anastasia Ricci. From what I’d heard, she collected red flags like they were limited-edition handbags. “Fair point. Let’s avoid that.”

“So,” he clapped his hands, the motion as confident as if he were running a boardroom meeting instead of scheming in my tiny apartment. “Shall we build our magnum opus of fake love?”

I snorted, grabbing a notebook from my desk. I couldn't decide if his ability to spin convincing lies so effortlessly was impressive or just a little unnerving. I decided I wasn't ready to find out, so I leaned into humor instead. “If this ends up being more work than my actual relationships, I’m charging you for my time.”

While I wrote Fake-relationship Commandments in all captions at the top of the page, Lu plopped down on the couch next to me.

When he took a peak at the notebook, he laughed that easy, confident laugh of his. “Okay.” Rule number one: no going off-script.”

First commandment: thou shalt not improvise, I wrote.

“If the details don't align, people start asking questions,” he continued. “Questions lead to scrutiny. Scrutiny leads to exposure. We have to commit to it completely, because it is confidence that sells the story. Act like you belong in the lie, and most people won't even think to question it.”

“The more real it feels to us, the harder it is for anyone else to see through,” I agreed. “So, what's the timeline here?”

He thought for a moment. “If anyone asks, we’ve been dating for six months.”

“Six months?” I frowned. “Why not three? It’s more believable.”

“I think three is too short. Six gives us enough time to seem serious but not so long that people wonder why they haven’t met you before.”

I sighed, conceding with a small shrug. “Fine. Six months. How did we meet?”

He grinned with a familiar mischievous glint in his eye. “Obviously, I saw you painting one of your masterpieces in the park and was so captivated I tripped over a bench trying to talk to you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please. If anyone was tripping, it’d be me. Over my own feet.”

“Okay, fine.” He laughed again, the sound warm and unguarded. “How about we met through a mutual friend? Chelsea, maybe? She’s always dragging people to those weird wine-and-paint nights.”

“That works,” I said, nodding and scribbling.

“We also need specific touchpoints—milestones,” Lu said, his tone growing more thoughtful. “A first date, for example. Something cute and memorable we can refer to in conversation. Something that sounds like… us.”

I tapped my pen against the notebook, thinking. “Obviously, I dragged you with me to my favorite art gallery.”

“Yeah,” he said immediately, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “The one on Main.”

I froze, my pen hovering just above the page. “You… you remember that?” I asked, looking up at him, thinking about the dozens of galleries I hauled him through over the years and wondering how on Earth he remembered which one I preferred.

His gaze was steady, the kind of look that felt like it could see right through me. “I actually listen when you talk, Cate.”

The way he said it—so matter-of-fact yet filled with a quiet sincerity—caught me off guard. Warmth spread through my chest, rising to my cheeks as if the room had suddenly been plunged into a furnace. My throat felt tight, and I forced my focus back to the notebook, pretending to be absorbed in jotting down the details.

“Okay,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended, betraying the flutter in my chest. “What’s the next rule?”

Lu leaned back against the couch cushions, crossing his arms as he considered. “Rule number two: no overcomplicating things. The simpler the story, the easier it is to stick to. If we try to make it too elaborate, we’ll trip ourselves up.”

I raised an eyebrow, still jotting notes. Second commandment: keep it stupid simple. “That’s ironic coming from you. Your entire life is one big overcomplication.”

“Fair,” he admitted with a smirk. “But this is different. We’re not building a soap opera here, we’re creating a believable romance. Keep it straightforward—dates, conversations, little quirks about each other. No crazy exes, no dramatic love triangles.”

“Sounds good,” I said. “What about PDA?”

He tilted his head, thoughtful. “Hmm. Let’s keep it natural. Enough to sell the story, but nothing over the top. We’re supposed to look comfortable, not like we’re trying out for a rom-com.”

“So no making out in front of your mom,” I deadpanned.

Lu barked a laugh, the sound sharp and carefree, but then something shifted. “Definitely no making out in front of my mom. But…” His voice dipped just slightly, quieter now, and his gaze flicked to my lips, lingering there for a breath longer than necessary. When his eyes met mine again, the teasing glint was gone. “There has to be chemistry. That’s non-negotiable.”

I froze, caught in the weight of his words—and the weight of his gaze. For a second, I couldn’t tell if he was still talking about the plan or if we’d wandered into something else entirely.

“Obviously,” I managed, my throat dry. I forced a small laugh that didn’t quite land. “If we don’t look convincing, we might as well call the whole thing off now.”

The air between us shifted, thickening like a storm cloud waiting to break. My pen hovered over the notebook, but I couldn’t make myself look away. Did he feel it too? Or was I just making things weird, overthinking the logistics of playing pretend? Maybe it was just the idea of kissing my best friend that had me spiraling.

“Holding hands? Sure,” he said finally, breaking the spell as he leaned back against the couch, his tone lighter now. “An arm around your shoulders? No problem. But…” He shrugged, an easy smile creeping back onto his face. “Anything beyond that, and we’re venturing into uncomfortable territory—for both of us.”

My chest tightened at his words, an ache I couldn’t quite name settling in. “Yeah,” I said lightly, nodding as I wrote it down. “We don’t want that.”

Third commandment: Minimal touchy-feely.

When I glanced up again, he was grinning at me, his usual charm back in full force, the moment slipping away like sand through my fingers. I let it go, choosing to believe the slight tremble in my hand was from the coffee I hadn’t had that morning.

“Any other rules?”

“Yeah,” he said, his expression more serious now. “We need to keep this between us. No one else can know it’s fake—not Chelsea, not your nosy neighbour, not even the barista at that coffee shop you love. The fewer people who know, the lower the risk of it getting back to my family.”

“Agreed,” I said, writing it down. Fourth commandment: Loose lips sink fake ships.

He leaned forward again and reached out to touch my shoulder. “Just… trust me, okay? If things get weird or someone starts digging too deep, I’ll handle it. You just have to trust that I’ve got your back.”

The sincerity in his tone caught me off guard. He made it all sound so simple, but I couldn't shake the feeling that pretending to be his girlfriend might be the most dangerous thing I'd ever agreed to. I hesitated, but eventually nodded. “Okay. I trust you.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Alright! What’s missing? Oh—how about our favorite shared memory? You know someone’s going to ask about that.”

I snorted. “I don’t know, Lu. Do you have a favorite memory of me?”

He thought for a moment. “Yeah, I’ve got one. Remember that time we went to the beach and a seagull stole my sandwich? You nearly died laughing.”

I burst out laughing at the memory. The smell of salt and sunscreen was still as sharp as if it had been yesterday; Lu glaring at the seagull with the sandwich dangling from its beak and me laughing so hard I could barely breathe. “That’s actually perfect. Let’s go with that.”

He grinned. “See? We’re naturals at this.”

“Don’t get cocky,” I warned, though I couldn’t help smiling as I wrote it down. “Okay, last thing: our couple’s song. Suggestions?”

He groaned. “Ugh. Can’t we skip that? It feels so fake.”

“Everything about this is fake, genius. Just pick something.”

We spent the next fifteen minutes arguing over options, vetoing anything too obvious or cliché. Finally, we settled on a random indie song he’d shown me once and neither of us could stop humming for the next seven to ten business days.

“Alright,” I said, closing the notebook with a flourish. “Fake-relationship Commandments complete. Is there anything else you need to cover?”

Lu leaned back, a satisfied grin on his face. “Nope. We’re ready to moonlight as con artists.”

He made it all sound so easy, like slipping into a role was second nature to him. But something about the way he looked at me—so steady, so sure—made me feel like maybe I could pull it off without actually tripping over my own feet.

I rolled my eyes, but the warmth of his smile was contagious. “Let’s just hope this doesn’t end in disaster.”

“It won’t,” he said confidently. “Trust me, Cate. We’ve got this.”

___

For the tag list, click here ✨

@mrsmangione286 | @nosebeers

[marsprincess889]

Me getting political

🇬🇪🇪🇺

So, I know I mostly only really talk about vedic astrology here, but I'd like to speak to the very same audience who found and followed me because of that about what's going on in my country. So, followers, dear mutuals, those couple of ppl I know irl who are on here, or someone who randomly found this_please, read and interact. (!!!please)

For context, the vast majority Georgia, mainly gen z, has been protesting a "foreign agents law", which is almost identical to the law that russia passed in 2012 and that has resulted in significant restriction of the freedom of its citizens. So, eurovision, met gala, whatever.... this is the reality my country lives in.

I had no idea so many people from other countries were this misinformed about georgia(in general)? People thinking photos from our massive protests were not from here because we have "police" written in english and not "policija"(which is not a fcking georgian word??????)?

People thinking america funded, I repeat, MASSIVE protests that have been going on for a month(and have also taken place in the march of last year for the same reason), just because some of the protestors wrote signs in english? Like, the sheer idea of that is honestly infuriating.

I don't think anyone who has not lived in Georgia will understand the situation clearly. The government is ordering to beat up peaceful protestors, is using pepper spray on them.... and most of the protestors are teens and young adults, trying to make a better future for themselves and for generations to come, tired of fighting the same fight that their parents and grandparents have fought.

When you are born georgian, patriotism is instilled in you like vow. I was born in 2002, a decade after my country exited the soviet union, fresh out of the notoriously hard and dark 90s(full of poverty and crime), six years before I started school and russia invaded the city of Gori. We learned all the poems and novels of our great writers, learned the stories of them fighting for freedom of speech, for the freedom of our country, our teachers would explain every detail of their astristry and their importance. At some point I think we all got tired of it, no matter how loving and full of care they were, but then I remember the presentation my class did in sixth grade about february of 1921, how Georgia exited the russian empire in 1918 and how the brand new(at the time) constitution was implemented just a few days before the red army came in 1921... MY PARENTS were born when Georgia was in ussr, my mother had to spend her years as a young student in the 90s in constant fear of danger on the streets, our parents saw the worst of it and did everything in their power for us to live in a better environment. But we're first generation in georgia who grew up with internet, who is fluent in internet slang and is way more informed, with a completely different mentality, for whom the decades of oppression is more distant. We know russia is an enemy, we know what our country has gone through, but we are the first gen with the freedom to speak up when yet another attemp to control is made.

We have a very long and rich history and one thing that is clear from it is that we are supernaturally resilient, and our refusal to be subdued has protected not only ourselves, but countries that lie west from us, the countries that make Europe, that we consider ourselves a part of.

My friends know I'm the quickest to say that I feel like I don't belong here(georgia), that I never really connected to what I saw, generally, in my country, but maybe there are thousands like me here. Maybe(100%) the men in power haven't been paying their due respect to my generation and how persistent we have been in our actions and convictions. And maybe, the rest of the world(western countries) have significantly undervalued our importance. We deserve our due, and to me, the least that others can do, is to educate themselves before typing or speaking about us.

We are not a "former soviet country", we are an ancient civilization with an extremely unique culture that has survived to this day, that has protected its customs, identity and the right for freedom, and has been under almost constant threat for losing them. And, once again, if there was any doubt, we are not our government.

I sincerely hope for this to get as many notes or possible, or at least, to reach the right people.

[definitelynotvi]

Rules-

Put your age in your bio or I will block you!

Do not send me unsolicited nudes.

Cis men and minors dni.

New to Tumblr so figuring out how it all works

Thank you to everyone messaging me, I'm sorry I don't have time to respond to everyone. Only talking to people 21 up.

About me,

I'm taken.

This blog is for me to explore my desires and get thoughts out of my head in a queer, woman centered space.

It's often going to be nsfw, so 18+, but there is a lot of other stuff I like to post or reblog, so this is not just a horny blog. I'm too lazy to make another one 🤣

I completely separate kink and reality. I want a relationship built on mutual respect, equality, and wholesomeness. And this kinky stuff is to slut my girl out, and it stops there.

Kinks -

I'm like 10% sub 90% dom depending on my menstrual phase and the moons orientation with earth. 🌙

I'm a soft dom, I like giving praise, degrading, orgasm control, embarrassment, patriarchy role play, choking, biting/hickies, throat fucking, puppy play, restriction, objectification, mouth spitting, breeding, and lots and lots of teasing 😉

I like being called Daddy

Maybe interested-

Cnc

Hard No -

Inflicting severe pain, scat, omo, anal, r*pe, incest, feeder, dd/lg

That's all for now

💪🏻💪🏻💪🏻💪🏻

[stagefoureddiediaz]

honestly maybe it's just me but buck is literally repeating the same steps as with natalia and taylor as with tommy. they meet, he has a crush, go on a date, it's awful and the date leaves, they then come back, then try for real. Like it sounds like even though Buck is off the hamster wheel in regards to his sexuality he very much is still on the hamster wheel when it comes to repetitive mistakes when it comes to his relationships.

Hey Nonnie

I woudn't say that at all. Yes of course there are some similarities - there always will be - between Buck dating Tommy and the Buck who dated Taylor or Natalia. But the reality is they are worlds apart.

For starters Tommy didn't leave because the date was awful, he left to give Buck some space to do a bit more figuring out - he said so himself that his what he was doing. He chose to leave the ball in Bucks court, understanding this was a big new thing for him and that it wouldn't be right to continue anything until Buck was ready. Buck then contacted him when he was and they met up and decided mutually to give things ago.

This is very different to both Taylor and Natalia - both of whom left after something big had happened in Bucks life (Eddie being shot and Kameron popping up out of seemingly nowhere) and then they were the ones to come back - to chase after Buck.

Look we can have whole conversations about the chasing being chased aspect of things but the long and short of it is That both Taylor and (to a lesser extent) Natalia, Ali and Abby chased Buck in one way or another and when it suited them. Tommy has never chased Buck - he shot his shot, sure, made his interest known, but he hasn't once chased Buck. Buck has always mistaken things for him doing the chasing (he is an very unreliable narrator) becuse he gets invested fast and so pursues things. His mistake is moving to fast - falling to quickly for people.

This is the major fundamental difference with Tommy, who is older and wiser and settled with who he is and what he wants. He also has the understanding of being queer and coming out later in life - of discovering that part of yourself that has been hidden and the fact it might take Buck a minute to figure out things.

The other big thing for me is the level of honest Buck is being here - this isn't something we've seen before in this way. He has been completely up front with Tommy when it has been important for him to be so (I would argue he did do the same for Natalia but that he was more forced into it by circumstance). That coffee they had was a very very clear example of that, he sat down, appologised and laid his cards out on the table. He's told the two most important people in his life that he's bi and interested in Tommy and yes maybe going to a wedding is a bit fast, but he also knows most of the people there so he's not walking in to a big unknown in t hat respect and he has a lot of goodwill with the firefam at this moment after flying them to the curise ship so they could rescue Athena and Bobby.

In all honesty I'm far more circumspect about Natalias behaviour as well - far more than a large portion of fandom was towards her. Did I like her as a character or for Buck, No I didn't, but she also didn't do all that much wrong in my eyes, her wanting to take a minute when presented with all that Bucks life is, to think things through before jumping into something is perfectly acceptable and healthy behaviour. The reality is that she was more interested in Bucks death than she was in his life and thats probably what brought her back - that itching need to know more about his death and what it was like.

But she came into his life when he was in a rough place mentally and it was never going to go well for that reason alone. All of Bucks girlfriends have that in common - they met him on the job and then come inot his life when he is having some form of internal crisis. Abby when he had just lost his first person on the job - making him emotionally vulnerable. Ali when he's accepted his relationship with Abby wasn't going anywhere a new guy had just started at work (yes they were getting on by this point but it is still new and an unknown) and his sister had just come back into his life after having had no contact for several years - and he knows she's in a fragile place. Taylor messes hm around but when she comes back into his life and wants to date him - Eddie has just been shot and he's looking after Christopher - he's massively emotionally compromised. None of these are good times to start a romantic relationship.

That isn't the case with Tommy - Bucks actually in a pretty decent place - yes the whole discovering he's queer could be argued as making him emotionally compromised, but he's being given the grace to do things at his own pace - in a healthy way - Tommy is letting Buck dictate the pace they go at.

We also have to remember that we are in a tv show - every single character who isn't a main (or to a certain extent a recurring) is there to act as a storytelling vehicle for one of the mains - their character traits are always going to be those which help get a main character from A to B, to move the story along and to make sure our mains learn something about themselves and their fellow mains along the way.

Abby was about getting Buck from being a bit of a clueless player into a long term (ish) relationship - about growing him out of his jock ways and getting him (and us) to recognise that he isn't a player that he wants real love and a long term relationship. Ali was about him getting over his first big disappointment - about getting hm to move on and about getting him his own place to exist. Taylor was about learning what love didn't look like, about how to treat others and showing him what he wasn't looking for and teaching him not to compromise on his morals. Natalia was all about Buck reconciling himself with his death and rebirth and as soon as he had done that, she was gone.

Tommy is about Buck discovering his queer identity, having a safe space to explore that and about getting him ready for Eddie - its why Tommy is soooo similar to Eddie - Buck will come out of this relationship (whatever form it takes) understanding who he is, and recognising what he wants is what he already almost has - Eddie.

Tommy is also about helping manoeuvre Eddie into questioning himself - another reason why he is so similar to Eddie - Eddie needed to see a gay version of himself - and with Buck to actually start thinking about himself and who he is and what he wants.

So all this to say that Nonnie - Buck has very much got off that hamster wheel and he is very much not making the same mistakes over again. I'm very excited to see how it continues to play out and I'm overjoyed with how the show is handling telling this story.

[heian-era-housewife]

Going North

This is not a fic. But it is a story. My story. Or at least, part of it.

When I started this blog I wanted to maintain as much anonymity as possible. Six months in and here I find myself publicly journaling my most guarded secrets. Funny how things change.

Warnings: ⚠️⚠️⚠️ Please proceed with caution. I have done my best to put the appropriate tw/cw tags in place, but be aware this post mentions nonconsensual sex, SA, suicide, mental health, mental illness, grief, and loss.

I'm writing to you from the depths of a very severe depressive episode and hoping that, in doing so, I may start to find my way out.

So...where do I begin?

For those who don't know I am, regrettably, American. This election has affected me more profoundly than I could ever have imagined.

I recently discovered that my entire family, including my parents- who have always been my best friends, voted for the man who represents everything I reject. Everything I despise.

This comes during a time I find myself exploring and redefining my gender identity. During a time where the healthcare system has repeatedly failed me in treatment and diagnosis of a reproductive condition. During a time when I am learning that ectopic pregnancy is a potentially fatal reality for me. While living in a state where abortion and life-saving reproductive care have been made illegal.

I was 13 the first time I was raped. With 8 months of continuous and repeated rape and sexual assault to follow. The only person I told was my family doctor. A Christian. Who told me sexual activity was an act against God. I never spoke of it again.

Not until I was 18 and had my first "real boyfriend". In explaining why I wanted to wait to be intimate, I told him my story, unaware he would weaponize it. Once again I found myself an unwilling participant in an act called "love". Only this time it was years, not months. The day I escaped I was punched in the face and thrown down the stairs. I still have a scar on my leg from fleeing my boyfriend assailant.

I ran to the safest person I knew. A friend from high school. A kind and gentle person. Someone who, in time, would show me that love and intimacy can exist in a non-toxic capacity. And though our eventual relationship would come to end in mutual respect as he came to explore his own sexuality and gender identity, I still credit him with playing a role in saving me.

Unfortunately, I was unable to return the favor when, just two months ago, he took his own life on the eve of his 30th birthday. I can't say for certain why he chose to end his journey, but I can only imagine that his race as a POC and sexuality were attributing factors as we stare down a future of continued systemic hate and bigotry.

In some ways, I still consider myself lucky. I never became pregnant. I never lost hope in finding love. I am married to a wonderful man who supports my every endeavor. His kindness is unrivaled, and his empathy knows no bounds. He meets me in my darkest places. He reminds me why I must continue to fight- to live. Even on the days I no longer want to...

And now, with the recent election, and the terrifying days ahead, I can't help but feel sometimes that it really is me and him against the world.

My family has chosen to stand behind a man who promised to lower the price of eggs, while creating a country wherein my life and those of countless other are at risk. Where it seems our validity as human beings is in question.

I am not even sure how I am supposed to continue a normal job, when every waking moment I am revisited by the traumas of my past with people shouting "Your body, my choice". Or fearing that another friend may take their life in the wake of the hatred that is blooming here.

I miss my parents. I used to call them every day. Now I am unsure how to even speak with them.

I am unsure of a lot of things.

In large part thanks to friends I have made here, I have begun the process of seeking further psychological support and evaluation.

Moving forward, I also plan to put more time and energy into my art. I am currently seeking ways to support myself financially in a work-from-home capacity as my deteriorating mental health is making working a regular job nearly impossible at the moment.

I'd like to remain active on this blog and continue building friendships over the love of JJK- something that, as silly as it is, brings me so much joy.

I hope that, if you've read this far, you'll continue this journey with me. And if you have read this far, thank you so much for being part of my life, sharing in my memories, my grief, my struggles. Thank you for listening to this story. Hopefully the next few I post will be more cheerful, and fictional, of course.

Thank you also to my international friends who have shown so much incredible love and support. You have no idea how much it means to be extended a friendly hand in a time where the world is justifiably furious with and untrusting of Americans.

I want to fight for a brighter future. I want to see what happens if we don't give up. I am determined to find peace and to one day look back on this post and be glad I chose to go North.

With love and gratitude,

Yuri 🩷

[funkycrabturtle]

funkycrabturtle's infographics

» Konichiwaaaa.. anyone can tell i'm not human but secretly a horrific monster with multiple arms, an unhinged jaw and loaded with 200,000 knife-sharp teeth (from specific calculations)

» welcome to this non-extraordinary blog, filled to the brim with original art, other types of fanart & perhaps several more that's undiscovered!

» ART REQUESTS ARE CLOSED! REFRAIN FROM SENDING IN ANY... ⇠ 7/12/24

there's my two other little gals, totally nasty not evil business lady Jennifer & notorious reality Jennifer!

↡ σтнєя ѕσ¢ιαℓѕ ↡ 🖨️

» ꜱᴛʀᴀᴡᴘᴀɢᴇ » ᴛᴡɪᴛᴛᴇʀ (yes i'm still gonna call it that)

here's one of my main OC's references! Meet Mintee Schoony! massive creds to @cozmic-wyatt for the bonus reference below. bonus outfit encyclopedia & an extra reference.. (both are kinda outdated?? idk)

» tottmnt oc (might remake it sometime idk..)

» swbg oc (the game's kinda dead on updates??)

» regretevator oc (super duper kawaii sugoi desu!!1!!)

↡ʙᴀꜱɪᴄ ᴛᴇʀᴍꜱ & ᴄᴏɴᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴꜱ (DEFINITELY) ᴀᴘᴘʟʏ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ↡

⇢ Please be kind & respectful! Consider the stuff you say before you type it (is it hurtful, is this gonna make me mad/upset, is this gonna make me block you?).

⇢ Copying/stealing/tracing my art is strictly against everything! Call you out twice & you're blocked for eternity! There's a reason why people use watermarks..

⇢ Strictly a NON-NSFW blog! Please do not sexualise me or my OCs, I would not like to see anything about that. EVER!

↡ вєℓσνє∂ мσσтѕ/вєѕтιєѕ ↡ 📺 [⩇⩇:⩇⩇] ✮⋆˙

➠ @3m0n3rd (twinning for lifers/pos 📌)

➠ @cozmic-wyatt (MM YUMMY YUMMY ART IN MY TUMMY 🍊)

➠ @bubblegum-flavored-timemachine (never forgetting abt the comic bro (o_o)7 🍀)

➠ @ammythewanderingartist (irl bestie uno 🌐)

➠ @untitledmichuu (irl bestie due ☔️)

➠ @florramor (irl bestie tres 🍬)

➠ @masawaffles (doesn't upload often but that's okay! 🌷)

➠ @blackk-c0ffee (makes the most awesome ROTTMNT fanart ever!! 🌹)

➠ @redlotuz (super cool moot with their own TMNT au!! 🎃)

➠ @le01zk00l (AARRGGHHHHH YUM YUM GRAAAGHH 🦖)

➠ @ghosty-0w0 (you're a super awesome person!! you have my utmost respect 🐳)

ɾҽαԃ αʅʅ ყσυ ɯαɳƚ, ƚԋҽɾҽ αɾҽ ρɾσႦαႦʅყ α ƚԋσυʂαɳԃ σƚԋҽɾ ҽყҽʂ ʂҽҽιɳɠ ƚԋιʂ αʂ ɯҽʅʅ..

➠ i'm still in school, so yeah I may not upload as often but more is posted during the holidays

➠ send me tons of asks!! i don't get a lot in my inbox, but I'm always there to answer them since I'm often online lol

➠ & most importantly, you may make fanart of me, Mintee or my other ocs!! it always makes my day a whole lot better and makes me smile. :)

↡ϝαɳƈყ ʅαԃ ϝυɳƙҽɾ'ʂ ƚαɠʂ↡

⇢ #it's your local funker here 📟 ┈ aka. funkycrabturtle!! main tag i guess.

⇢ #a word from your sponsor 📇 ┈ fanart from anyone, everyone & my mutuals! even you!

⇢ #you got mail! 📬 ┈ mainly asks.

⇢ #jennifer's yipper yapper tales 💿 ┈ based on true stories & rarely traumatic experiences!

⇢ #submit to reality 📹 ┈ 4K HD real life photos snapped by yours truly!

⇢ #regretevator miku ┈ what a classic! i'm not adding anything else to this.

⇢ #select your file 🗃️ ┈ any sorts of OC art, mintee, miko, ayame & miku 4 ever broski

⇢ #what else do i add to the list LOL?? 📋 ┈ a fancy way of saying "idk what else to tag here LOL"

ɯԋσ ƙɳσɯʂ ԋσɯ ɱαɳყ ɱσɾҽ I'ʅʅ ɱαƙҽ.. Ⴆυƚ ƚԋҽɾҽ'ʅʅ Ⴆҽ ɾҽɠυʅαɾ υρԃαƚҽʂ?

ɳҽҽԃ ƚσ ƙɳσɯ ɱσɾҽ? ɳσ ɯσɾɾιҽʂ! ԃσ ʂσɱҽƚԋιɳɠ α ɳσɾɱαʅ ρҽɾʂσɳ ɯσυʅԃ ԃσ - αʂƙ αɳყƚԋιɳɠ.

[brokenbecquerel]

it is an insane and oppressive moral standard to ask that all childhood sexual abuse victims conform to the normal and tame bounds of sexuality, venturing (maybe!) only into the safe limits of mainstream fifty-shades-style bdsm.

if you know what i mean, you know what i mean. it's obvious to so many people with hybristophilia for example that the issue of attraction began in childhood. so many paraphilias are so harmful to act on. normal people don't really get that. it is a constantly unfilled desire that carries from birth to death. plenty of people can live out their sexual fantasies free of moral darkness, and they don't even know they're privileged.

it's really not on anyone from the outside to police internal thoughts or fantasies spoke aloud. i'm well aware that many of the things i enjoy are disturbing, and i respect other people not wanting to be involved. but that respect is not mutual. non-hybristophiles purposefully insert themselves into our spaces to make fun of us for a condition we can't control, nor do they care to empathize or understand.

there is nothing wrong with a fantasy, but not every fantasy can be made into reality ethically, safely, and without moral decay. that's something normal people will simply never have to deal with. and the standard i am held to by virtue of my unchosen attraction is impossibly high to meet in the modern age.

a victim who you don't get along with is still a victim. if i am repulsive to you, i am still a victim. a victim, but also a survivor. i will do whatever it takes to survive, regardless of societal outcry at my methods.

[batsplat]

after 2015 until 2018 it seemed that things had calmed down a bit between valentino and marc, in the sense that they had started to be polite between them again and valentino no longer seemed to be on a war footing. then after argentina obviously the situation worsened again. in the podcast where valentino spoke in 2021 if I'm not mistaken, when he talks about marc,however, he only refers to the events of sepang and not to what happened in argentina which instead seemed to have been the final “divorce”. so my question is, during 2016 and 2017 did valentino just pretend to put up with marc? because in that podcast you can feel valentino's resentment is still a lot even after many years, so I imagine it must have been even greater in the two years immediately following sepang, even if it didn't seem if you see how he behaved

well. look. it was reflected in how valentino behaved... I think sometimes if you see isolated photos and gifsets, you can maybe be left with a bit of a mistaken impression of what that dynamic actually looked like for those two years. they got to a point post-catalunya where they were civil to each other, and maybe they'd exchange two lines in greeting, at podium celebrations, when somebody in a presser made a joke... and maybe marc at the very least was sincerely hoping they could get back to something like what they had before 2015. in reality, though, it was still very very far away. it wasn't open hostilities... at some point in 2016, valentino realised he simply couldn't go on like this. I talked about it a bit here:

you get this discrepancy in his 2016 output, actually. if you compare what he's saying that autumn for written press interviews vs what he's saying with marc right next to him... he'd clearly decided there was zero point in directly fanning the flames. at the sepang 2016 presser when marc and him are quizzed on what had happened the previous year, he just goes with marc's response and decides against reopening the controversy by adding anything from his side. but he still made it clear he hadn't changed his mind in interviews from the exact same time period! at times, he tolerates marc's tentative advances - at other times, he's almost accidentally sucked in, like he can't quite help himself from laughing at something marc has said. but there was never a period where he forgave marc for what he'd done... for various reasons he just decided he wasn't going to harp on about it too much. he did basically say as much post-argentina 2018:

but yeah, argentina 2018. it's an interesting one, isn't it? the stuff that valentino says there doesn't actually feel... quite in line with anything else he's said about marc. typically, when valentino criticises marc, it really is all about sepang 2015 - it's very focused, very specific, he's talking about being unable to forgive marc on a personal level for something marc had done to valentino... but it's not like he's really coming at marc for anything else... when other riders have gotten into spats with marc, he's stayed out of it - and generally he remains pretty neutral when he talks about everything else concerning marc. so, for example, there's a world where the moment alex rins is saying marc doesn't respect other riders in 2019, valentino immediately jumps at the opportunity to offer his hot take... but he doesn't do that. and yes, he had criticised marc's riding before, in particular in marc's moto2 days, but obviously those criticisms were considerably more restrained and sounded at times quite worried for marc's sake. (he also got close to that in silverstone 2016 when he remarked marc had 'something special' for their battles, but a) he's not wrong, except insofar as it's clearly mutual, and b) he explicitly said he didn't have a problem with that fight and considered it hard but fair). in 2017, when valentino was criticising other riders for being too aggressive... well, he wasn't doing so with marc, and he even conceded the point to marc in subsequent races after marc had obliquely criticised valentino at cota for his rhetoric not matching up to his own riding. when valentino's young riders have gotten into their own spats with marc, he's not waded in either, at most saying stuff about marc's fight with pecco that from his lips sounds almost like something akin to praise. radio silence after bez's run in with marc at the end of last year... argentina 2018 is the exception not the rule

and you know... at the end of the day, that was an emotional reaction. valentino might be wearing the habitual smile on his face during the media debrief and sound reasonably calm and composed, but he was furious. which, it's always worth remembering, isn't an entirely unreasonable reaction to that specific situation. yes, valentino doesn't have a clean track record either, but you're going to struggle to find such a... weaponised carelessness, a blatant disinterest in his fellow riders while shoving them aside, in the way marc was exhibiting that day - and indeed that whole weekend. looking back, of course argentina 2018 ended up being an isolated blot on marc's track record that he's not come close to repeating since (yes, he's made high profile errors that took out other riders, but it's different)... but we didn't know that at the time. also, I doubt valentino much appreciated being treated just like an obstacle in marc's path! the fact that valentino wasn't the only marc victim that weekend kind of has an interesting effect, because you have to doubt whether it would have helped if valentino felt like he was being targeted specifically by marc, but on the other hand... well, it's almost disrespectful, isn't it... being singled out is in a way still better than being brushed aside like any other rider

still, valentino's pushing it with his criticisms, he's out of line, and he clearly did lash out in the heat of the moment - which was of course largely a product of the resentment he'd been holding onto those past two years. calling marc's behaviour that day dangerous? sure, you'd find a lot of agreement for that. saying that marc was ruining the sport? that he was intentionally causing other riders to crash? ... well, hold on one moment. I reckon the simplest explanation is the best one here: valentino was angry and said stuff he wouldn't otherwise say, which we know because he's not done so before or since. of course, he was never going to retract what he said about marc that day - he wasn't ever going to apologise for it. not with their history, not when there was still just enough about those argentina comments that he meant... so he wasn't going to feel too much regret about the bits he wouldn't have said under any other circumstance. the problem post-2015 for valentino is that constantly signalling his fury to the world wasn't doing him much good... but pretending like everything was just fine clearly also took a bit of a toll. argentina 2018 wiped the slate clean - even though they gradually crept back towards basic civility after that. and valentino really didn't continue with that line of critique... since then he's basically completely reverted back to a sepang 2015-centric approach. maybe a few hints at it... in 2021, he said something along the lines of how he doesn't feel good when he's on-track with marc, but that's pretty generic while also crucially being personal - he's not saying marc is a problem for the series, he's saying it's them specifically that have an issue with each other

which doesn't mean he didn't believe what he said in argentina 2018 in the moment... when they reconvened in cota and had marc and valentino do separate media debriefs from the main presser, valentino said he stood by his comments - but also didn't actually repeat them or elaborate on them or anything. he's back to terse short responses to the press' questions, saying he wants to focus on the race ahead: kind of the go-to approach when it comes to marc post-sepang (with notable exceptions). he's walked his strongest comments back as much as he was probably ever going to - by simple virtue of the fact that he's left it at that. and you know, he's a complicated guy... 2016-17 was both pretending and it also wasn't. he didn't act like everything was forgotten, but he certainly was willing to let people believe that this relationship might end up being mended - which quite frankly was probably never going to happen. mostly, he was just sort of sick of the whole thing, struggling to enjoy himself in what had become such a charged, hostile environment for all the riders involved. at the same time, look - fundamentally, the interpersonal chemistry with marc was always fine. they click as people! they click as riders! marc makes valentino laugh! sometimes, that line between 'pretending' and 'letting yourself pretend' and 'actually not pretending at all' can be quite thin. when valentino talks in that time period about how much he enjoyed a battle with marc, of course he isn't lying - because he really does enjoy those fights! that's what racing is all about for him, and that's something him and marc still share! as long as marc isn't barging him aside and causing him to crash, that is. maybe it'd be easier if it were all a pretence, but it wasn't... sometimes, when you say you thought a race was hard and fair, you really do mean it and you really did have a lot of fun. sometimes, the struggle isn't actually acting nice for the cameras, it's trying to bite down the temptation to laugh alongside your sworn enemy

see also assen 2016... like, isn't this kinda wild? you've just had catalunya the race before, you've just had the mere semblance of a tentative start to a possible reconciliation - then they return to the place that was really the beginning of the end for them. they go on a few track familiarisation laps, including to check out the resurfaced final chicane (aka the scene of the crime). they race each other on said track familiarisation laps. then marc brings it up in the presser, giggling about the whole thing, and apparently valentino also finds it pretty funny - before he visibly swallows up his grin. later that weekend, marc pointedly decides to try out valentino's final chicane move himself during the warm up session. this is all obviously deranged, but it's a type of deranged where they are fundamentally on the same wavelength. it's the kind of ridiculous behaviour they're both incredibly fond of... you see it in how valentino shrugs off the towing at catalunya 2019, and thinks it speaks to marc's smarts and wiliness - unsurprising, really, because they're so similar in that regard, and valentino has never shaken his admiration for marc as a competitor

valentino can clamp down on his animosity towards a rival during his direct interactions with them... lord knows if you watch a few of the casey and valentino face-to-face interactions over the years, you really wouldn't match that up with the sheer vitriol of some of the stuff they were concurrently saying about each other in the press. that rivalry was never really personal (on valentino's end), it was never fraught in the same way (for valentino anyway) - still, it shows he's theoretically capable of separating this stuff out when he needs to... and he just about managed with marc for two years. if he had just been waiting for an excuse, surely you would have heard at least a hint of that when him and marc swapped paint in 2017. you never quite knew how he was going to answer the inevitable questions about marc's riding, but no direct criticism was forthcoming at any stage. the post-argentina 2018 rhetoric wasn't in any way premeditated from valentino's side, and personally I don't think he was just waiting for an excuse either. it was the result of a constant internal conflict between knowing that engaging in any more active beef with marc wouldn't do anyone any good, and the fact that he still hadn't forgiven marc... and then a race came along that simply pissed him off enough to push him over the edge

from 2016 onwards, valentino both very much wanted and very much did not want further conflict with marc, and neither of those impulses ever quite go away. usually, he's disciplined enough to avoid stoking the flames any further... potshots to the press outside of the paddock are essentially a free and harmless outlet in that regard, and even there you can tell he was trying to scale it back in the years where he was being forced to directly interact with marc. he was pretending and not pretending and sometimes pretending like he wasn't pretending and sometimes pretending like he was pretending. maybe it would have always just taken one major on-track confrontation for things to fall apart between them again... but you do kinda have to acknowledge the whole thing was really unfortunate. I've long thought that something like sepang 2015 was pretty inevitable as long as valentino managed to put himself in title contention once marc had joined the premier class, but I don't actually feel the same way about argentina 2018. an awful marriage of circumstance and coincidence and bad choices caused the relationship to fall apart again this badly. valentino might have had some more or less sincere misgivings about marc's riding, but at the end of the day he wasn't going to ever express them unless it got personal - because all of these people are incredibly self-centred and valentino wouldn't have felt like it was worth it. he lost his temper, he said some stuff he might partly but not fully believe, he's not inclined to bring it up again. that's that

[mr-nauseam]

Capitol Hierarchy

I was inspired by this post and my need to have order on my ideas. This valid for all my lore I do for the Families I have interest in (Snow, Harrington,etc) and the ones I made up like The Dorrance 💖

Fair warning this just a ramble that I did out of nowhere. I know absolute almost nothing abt Antique Rome and I have a very basic knowlodge of USA, this only for fun so feel free to disagree or ignore if u dont like my headcanons☝️

1. Patricians

This one is subdivided in 3 subclasses (that are manifestations of power, not categories of its own that exist in Capitol).

I. Politics. I believe the founder families are usually engaged in this aspect. Especially when talking of positions that are relevant inside the goverment and more permanent than for example Senators (where is common some members of lowers Families can be.) Families that I include in this: Phipps. Dovecote. Not a rule but usually the people here shouldn't be able to own or participe directly in Business, because they are already participating of Politics (ofc no one fucking respect this, yet they try hard to be discreet about it).

II. Military Class. Considering how much it depend Panem all its History from Militar power. I don't believe is a reach say this a very influent root in Society. However the families here can't go into Politics. Not directly at least, is not a law but most of some mutual agreeing, to avoid internal conflict. Clearly this something that people ignore many times. Also this an area that as time pass Post Tbosas Era, only gain more influence. Family I include in this: Snow (Yes, Coriolanus do explicit gonna break the mutual agreement). Harrington* (Explainning this later).

Relevant point I'm picturing here people trying to do monopoly shit in that sector. Is not like they are forbbide of get into other business of other kind but not so common that happen.

III. Economy Class. Now the order I put, is simply to give an order, not a real indicative of which subclass is in reality more powerful. I mention this because I feel many of the families that own or hold some big economical power by own business of diverse kind could influence in a direct and indirect way politics, even more than Military one or the older families. Also this a nice moment to explain that the Patricians in general are identified because this people that in Politics are involved in it. Even if Patricians from Military Class im theory shouldn't go after Politicial positions, still this the type of people that you as a politician should care to be in good terms with. Hope this make sense.

Family I include in this: Cardew. And of course shot out to the Heavesbean cult. Too not surprises if I dont mention certain families, I mention the ones that I have headcanons and these aren't many. 😔😔

2. Equestrians

Similar it will have a subdivision internal that Im using to explain but that dont exist within the universe, sorry for any confusion.

I. Militar Force. In Patricians Militar Class like I say, I picture mostly owners of the Military Complex that supply the forces and even go futher steps. These families could or no belong for real to the Army. Now here we talk of "minor" owners of that Industry that for general belong to Army. Mostly the two particular roots of Army: Air Force and Navy. You may think, they would get along but that's not the case. Especially I would say Air Force and Navy are always in conflict with Army (you know. The ones in combat on earth and in charge of Police duties). Here is too were Im gonna explain Harrington Family. Because I believe they gain the Patrician title after the service of Commander Pliny Father during the war, this not add nothing except when we remember my complot of Harrington and Plinth. The worst families dinner happen for this.

II. Business Force. Again. Here go all these companies and business. Like my inspiration post, its very possible its people doing products of not first neccesity but I would say the big distintion here is mostly this people still not have such a big influence in Politics like the Patricians babes. Like, they CAN BE THERE, mostly they end up as senators but they are far yet of have their voices hear in these type of matters, but the ascent social for them is a big yes, it would just need some effort extra but its a thing that happen a lit. Here go my delulu ass: The Dorrance with actives in D3.

III. Intellectual Force. I was thinking of Education and Institutions, the type of circles that influence in the ideological aspect of society, even if not in a noticeable way but this have a lot to do with Culture, but like the so bad called "high culture" thats basically patriotism. Also like the Patricians nepotism is always the best buddy of this people, in general of this category but the buddies here yeah. Kinda take it faaar. Here go the best fam: Highbottom.

IV. Communication and entertainment. In development. The more louder from here. Always surronder to Patricians interest. Its influence in the Districts its almost non existing. It will be developed more power and impact later on.

3. Plebeians

Normal citizens from Capitol. Subdivided in three:

I. Celebs. Famous people with ties to War or to Communication and Entertainment industriesUsually they are rich (but they can be too at best middle class) and deepy admired by people.

II. High Plebeians. People that can pay a departament. Have high qualificate jobs. They managed to study or small business owners. They tend to have big debts. Our fav old gay uncle: Pluribus Bell.

III. Low Plebeians. They have servant jobs or informal ones. Drawn in debts. The one that probably end up in high risky jobs or doing unhealthy practices. A not so small part of the population.

4. The Plinth Case: Libertini

This is my favorite part, literally this whole post was born because I wanted to answer the Plinth thing, and I was like, “oh shit I guess I should have an idea more or less how the other layers of society work in the Capitol.” So answering the million dollar question: the Plinth are citizens of the Capitol with what all that means? I think they are, but with their particularities, they are a “yes but…”

The Plinth (marriage) exist as their own category within the Capitol. Their papers say Libertinus (Sejanus will be clarified later). And there are several conditions, first I don't think any of them could have any criminal record, as sad enough Strabo can't shoot it dumb people, but yes, I think if their record is tainted, there will be no choice but to send them back to Two,,,,but punished obviously.

I was also thinking about whether there would be some kind of restriction on travel, and after consideration I think it's possible. As obviously Strabo can travel between districts in case he has to do business, but it's a Strabo only thing, no taking his family on vacation (something in theory a Plebeian could do, though most of them could never dream of vacationing in the districts, not after the war tho lmao), and again, if the rule is broken, you're screwed.

Likewise I suspect Strabo wouldn't be able to own much property within the Capitol. He could not have 5 apartments if he wanted to (the number needed to maybe make a house/j). And the most important: Strabo Plinth nor his wife could ever attempt to run for political office. It's not all bad, I think these 3 points could be negotiated years later, fixed and adjusted, if they can be persuasive enough, perhaps. And since they can have cards, bank accounts, be super rich, and even vote, is all good, they would just have to do it, consciously, if you know what I mean.

They shoudn't forget who was the great president that let them move in, and it would be nice if they would show how grateful they are, by making donations, to repair what their people broke, to help the city that has received them with open arms. Also they are not forbidden to study, as of course they can, just find someone who wants to have you in their school, and of course they could get a nice apartment, in a neighborhood where no one would make a fuss over a family from the district.

4.5 The promise. Sejanus Case

Sejanus came to the Capitol very young, but he was not a baby either, even so he was symbolically granted the status of a Plebeian. He keeps in fact the same restrictions as his parents, but his papers say Plebeian, which is a victory, but who knows. If Sejanus has children, they would be 100% Plebeians, and if in turn those children have their own children, they would be assured of their position, enough to work hard and maybe one day they will be Equestrians and in a few more generations, maybe one will be born, at last worthy of being a Patrician.

Something like that Ravinstill said to Strabo, which seems very reasonable doesn't it?

5. Avoxes

Finally. We are close to shutting me up, just an important reminder that the subdivisions I mentioned above are mostly explanatory, I think on paper there are only 3 statuses (+Plinth Case), and in reality the dynamics I wrote about obviously have had their exceptional cases, or fluctuate, also the internal order is not necessarily indicative of who status holds more power, because again, that kind of thing flow all the time, but is a well reference of how thing works. Tbh I think the only ones that are trapped in a rigid status are the Plinth, but well with them the Libertini thing dies so…

Now let's go with the Avoxes. I will talk not so much about subdivisions but about before the war and after the war. Something striking to me is that before and during the war we are mentioned servants, I hope it does not sound strange what I say, and I suspect they had tongues, along legs too, to eat.

I think the concept of Avox already existed before the dark days, only they were not so common, they were a less reduced number, and I think they were always forced to do jobs that no one wanted to do (that business underground) although perhaps they had companions with tongues even at that time, but mainly I see they were lab rats. Like that frog thing that television says people do in science class, just on a large scale to practice in certain fields, like Medicine, Biology, Pharmacists, etc.

If they were already used for domestic work - parties, I think that happened, with some rich families who indulged to it like a whim but after the war, there is an overproduction of avoxes. There are so many of them, what to do with them? I don't think that their use in the tasks I already mentioned is disappearing, but it is expanding, and eventually because they are cheap labor (free), they end up dominating little by little the domestic market, like, who better than a former traitor to help you make your bed.

I can see advertising like that, and then the avoxes start flooding the houses, although not all avoxes, there are from avoxes to avoxes you know? But that's a talk to another day.

Anyway, I say thank you to anybody who get there to read my rambles. <3

[avacoleman]

all i wanted (was you) || a firstprince fic

summary: It’s been nearly a decade since exes Henry and Alex have last seen or heard from each other. After one unexpected night of reuniting thanks to the meddling of their mutual friend, the pair find that neither time nor circumstance can stop their flame from rekindling. With the complications of Henry’s marriage to another man and his scheduled return to London looming, the two must navigate life’s difficulties as they grapple with what a possible future could mean for them.

chapter 4/9 || rated e || read on ao3 || listen to the playlist

Alex stares at his phone as if he can somehow will the device to flash with Henry’s name across the screen. He hasn’t heard a word from him since last night. He knows all too well how avoidant Henry can become when he feels too overwhelmed by life. As it stands now, Henry has essentially blown up his whole world. 

Alex tried to give Henry grace, allowing the morning and the early afternoon to go by. But Alex’s own insecurities have now begun to bubble up and take shape. He gives Henry two calls that go unanswered. It’s not surprising, but it stings nonetheless. 

He avoids his own bedroom all day. The memories are far too fresh. He feels as if he’s in limbo, suspended in some strange space where time and reality are meaningless. Without hearing from Henry, without knowing where they stand, he feels unmoored.

He tries to contact Henry again, firing off an embarrassing series of texts but he figures if he’s speaking into the void anyway, what difference does it make?

Alex are you ghosting me?

Alex so…we’re just gonna never talk again? we did that for 8 yrs remember? it sucked. would rather not go back to that if it’s all the same to you, thanks 

Alex im staying home this evening, just in case you change your mind and wanna come by or whatever 

Alex fuck, alright this is officially pathetic on my part so i’ll stop texting. just know i'm here if you want to talk

Alex i *really* hope you wanna at least talk. don't go dark on me yet. pls? talk to me first. you pinky promised that it wouldn’t be like the last time. is nothing sacred anymore? but seriously, hen, i want us to at least be okay. pls let me know if we’re alright

An hour later, there’s a knock at the door and Alex’s heart leaps to his throat. Two visits in as many days should be exciting, but Alex has no real clue what awaits him so he anticipates the worst.

He gets up and crosses the living room to answer the door, taking a second to brace himself.

He opens the door to find Henry on the other side, his eyes distant and red rimmed. This is the reaction Alex has been dreading most. He already knows where this is going to go.

He steps back, letting Henry in without either of them greeting each other. Alex suddenly feels itchy, dirty even. He takes a seat on the couch, hugging his knees to his chest.

“You regret last night,” Alex says, not as a question.

Henry runs a hand through his hair as he sits on the opposite end of the couch. He looks exhausted.

“No, I don’t. And that’s the problem.”

Alex perks up in spite of himself.

“But you didn’t do—“

“Anything wrong?” Henry concludes incredulously with a humorless laugh. He shakes his head and looks away, blinking twice as he takes a breath.

His shoulders are raised and Alex wants nothing more than to ease the tension out of him, to free him of the burden or at least carry some of the weight so Henry doesn’t have to suffer it alone.

Tentatively he shifts closer to sit beside Henry, keeping a respectable distance but settling close enough.

“We kissed. We had sex. That makes me a liar and a cheater. And worse yet, I’ve made you an accomplice in all of this and for what? My own selfishness and greed?”

“You can’t help how you feel.”

“That’s no excuse. I should be able to manage some shred of self-control, some modicum of restraint. I’m not a child who doesn’t know better. I’m a man who saw what he wanted and simply couldn’t have cared less about the consequences. And that? That makes me a monster.”

“Stop it. Don’t talk about yourself like that. I can’t stand it.”

Alex fiddles with his hands, his breathing heavy.

“If anything, I’m the monster here. I see what it’s doing to you and yet I can’t stop. I don’t want to.”

Henry’s eyes find his.

“This can’t be what you truly want.”

Alex bites his bottom lip.

“I just want you. In whatever way I can have you. The how doesn’t matter nearly as much as it probably should.”

Henry buries his face in his hands and he looks to Alex like Atlas carrying the weight of the world.

“Bloody hell, what are we doing? This is all so messed up. I’m sorry, Alex. I’m so unbelievably sorry.”

Alex’s face falls. He reaches out to touch him.

“Baby, don’t be. It’s okay.”

Henry’s jerks away and gets on his feet.

“It’s anything but okay. Don’t excuse me. My God, Alex. You should hate me, loathe me for what I’m putting you through.”

“Well, I don’t and I never have. So now what?” Alex challenges. “You’re always going to be it for me. I will never stop wanting you.”

Henry looks at him incredulously.

“How can you even say that? You’ve given me too much power here.”

“I love you. That’s all there is to it.”

Henry blinks back tears and shakes his head, taking another step backwards.

“I should go.”

The words are like a freight train through Alex’s heart, especially after his admission.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks, his voice suddenly small in his own ears.

Henry’s face softens at once.

“No,” Henry says gently. “Darling, no, you haven’t. I’m at fault here. I’ve made an absolute mess of everything. I’m hurting everyone and I just—,” he stops short, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment before lowering his hand.

“I don’t want to put you in this position. It isn’t fair. I am… clearly going through something right now and I will not drag you down further with me while I try to figure it out. You deserve so much better than this. You’re a good man. A good and truly decent person and I–.”

Henry swallows hard, his eyes welling with tears again.

“I do hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me for what I’ve done. I know I won’t ever deserve it after what I’ve put you through— not only once but twice. I can’t keep breaking your heart. I won’t.”

Fear seeps into every cell of Alex’s body.

“Stay. Please, Henry. Just stay the night.”

Henry frowns, looking deeply apologetic.

“I don’t think that’d be wise.”

“I promise nothing will happen. You are not okay right now. I don’t want you to be alone.” 

The other truth is that Alex doesn’t want to be by himself and Henry has been wandering dangerously close to a permanent goodbye.

Alex gets up and drifts towards him slowly.

“Stay. It’s okay.”

Henry looks so lost, it shatters Alex’s heart. He keeps coming toward Henry until he’s near enough that he can drape his arms over Henry’s shoulders. He pulls Henry in for a hug, his fingers combing through his golden blond hair.

He feels Henry sag against him, his body relaxing more the longer Alex coddles him. Alex leaves a barely-there kiss at Henry’s temple before he gently guides him to his bedroom.

It’s such a stark contrast to the day before. Where they’d been frenzied and hungry for each other yesterday, there’s a somber seriousness here today that makes Alex feel like crawling out of his skin to be free of it.

They both get into bed, Henry settling on one side, staying on his back. His voice is solemn as he speaks.

“Nothing can happen tonight.”

“I know. I promise,” Alex says quietly. “Can I at least hold you?” 

It feels like such a gamble to even ask, but if Alex can just have Henry in his arms, maybe it’ll reassure him that Henry won’t just up and disappear.

Henry turns his head slightly enough to look at Alex’s face as he nods.

“Yeah. That’d be alright.”

Henry turns on his side and Alex doesn’t hesitate. He wraps an arm around Henry and comes in closer, letting his chest press squarely against Henry’s back, his chin resting on the man’s shoulder. Henry breathes out softly through his nose and Alex can picture the contented look on his face. It no doubt matches the one on Alex’s as their bodies relax, their breathing falling into sync.

In all honesty, this moment now feels even more intimate than last night.

He burrows his face into the side of Henry’s neck, feeling Henry’s pulse quicken. Alex fights off the urge to kiss him in the spot behind his ear but it’s a near thing.

Instead he simply closes his eyes and softly breathes Henry in, holding on tight until sleep finds them both.