#it doesn't look like this is showing up in the tags

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty-two —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 5.2k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: I'm sorry lmaooo nine months... hopefully we can finish this thing!

B

"Hold him close to your chest, or he'll jump out of your arms. Here—like this."

Blue gently cradles the rabbit, then carefully tucks him into Ari's arms, guiding his hands to scoop under Grim's fluffy rear. She can't help but find it amusing that the boy who had taken her riding on such a large animal yesterday looks so wary holding a harmless bunny. A giggle bubbles up, and she bites her lip to keep it in.

"He's so... squirmy."

Blue keeps her hand on Grim, reassuring both the rabbit and him. "He's just ready for his breakfast. Want to help me feed him?"

"Sure."

Blue leads Ari to the hutch where the other rabbits are. She explains her morning routine, showing him how to supply the rabbits with enough grass, leaves, and berries to keep them healthy and plump. Not long ago, she was explaining this to Twix—the very person she forgot to say good morning to in a rush to find Ari outside. This time around, she wonders if Ari is genuinely interested or just being polite. She finds herself stealing glances at his face, studying his expressions perhaps longer than she should. His almond-shaped eyes and dark pink lips catch her attention.

He's cute.

It's not the first time the thought has crossed her mind since these strangers appeared. Cute like the men in her magazines, though he's not quite a man. Not in the way Ghost is. But he's taller than her by a head and two years older, evident in the notch on his throat and the deeper timbre of his voice.

But it doesn't matter. They are only here for a few days.

Blue closes the hutch and rocks on the soles of her boots. "Well, that was probably boring, huh? We could, um, go hunting if you want. Or to the pond. It's fun to swim there. Or maybe—" She pauses, mentally sifting through the limited activities available, frustration creeping in as none of them seem particularly impressive.

"This wasn't boring. Now I know rabbits are just as friendly as horses." He smiles.

"They are... except when Grim gets mad. Then he can be a bit of a jerk. Like if you accidentally step on his tail."

"I'd be pretty pissed if someone stepped on my tail, too."

"You don't have a tail."

"It's just a joke."

"Oh..." she fidgets with a strand of hair. "Right."

"The pond sounds good. It is fucking hot." Ari blows out a breath and swipes at the back of his neck.

"I know. So hot. Hot as balls."

Ari raises an amused brow. "Yeah, uh, hot as balls. Are you allowed to go by yourself, or do we need to ask your dad?"

"I get to do what I want," she lies easily with a shrug. "Buuuuut, we can ask Twix to go with us."

As long as Twix is with her, she suspects she can get away with not asking Ghost, who luckily is hunting with his old captain. It's not that he seems distrusting with these people as he did those first few months with Twix. Rather—she isn't thrilled about him knowing every little thing she does. She's never had anything just to herself. 

Twix is sitting on the porch, looking rather deep in thought as she skins a squirrel. Her hair is long, curtaining her face. When Blue asks if she wants to go to the pond, she agrees easily, claiming she has been meaning to cut her hair anyway with the encroaching warmth of summer. Nereida joins, too. 

Even early, the air is sticky, and the pond is cool and inviting. Ari rips his shirt off and jumps in without even a second to waste. Blue usually swims in her underwear and shirt, but she hesitates with her thumb in the belt loops of her jeans. She didn't consider that he would see her in her underwear. 

A soft touch to her shoulder. It's Twix. "Want me to grab you shorts real quick?"

"Um... yes. Yes please."

She changes into the shorts behind a tree. There is an odd pit in her stomach when she gets in the water. She doesn't quite know what it is, but it's similar to how she feels when she's scared sometimes. Ghost always tells her fear is a useless thing. It doesn't keep you alive. So she ignores it, shoves it down deep, and swims over to Ari with a purposeful splash that even wets Twix, who sits at the edge sharpening her knife.

"Damn. That's gonna cost you."

A splash is given in return, and then they are playing. High noon bounces shimmering light off the water as she tries to keep up with him, but at one point he sneaks up on her and she ends up with a mouthful. Nereida spends her time picking at some bunches of rosemary and Twix cuts her hair. But Blue doesn't notice any of that too much. When the water stills and they pause to catch their breath, Ari climbs onto a rock and shakes out his wet hair. She is quick to find a perch beside him. Absentmindedly, she pinches the bottom of her wet shirt to keep it from sticking to her chest.

"It's nice to have some place to swim so close by. Back at our old camp, there was lake but it was a few miles away, so my mom rarely let me go."

"I'm sorry, you know. About your mom. Mine is dead, too."

He half-smiles. "Thanks. I don't think about it too much anymore. My uncle and I have always been close so it helped to have him there." He nudges her shoulder. "You're damn lucky to have such a cool dad, huh?"

"Ghost?"

"Yeah, that guy is a beast. My uncle says they called him Ghost because no one could ever see him coming before suddenly, they were dead." 

"Oh, yeah, he is super cool," she quickly agrees. "He has taught me a lot."

"Shit, really?"

Nibbling the inside of her cheek, she shrugs to feign indifference. "I know how to throw knives pretty well."

"I gotta see that." His smirk etches a light dimple into his cheek. Then, his eyes flash behind her. "So what's up with his girlfriend?"

"Huh?" A divot forms between her brows before she follows his gaze, landing on Twix, whose hair is now just past her shoulders. She is wetting it, running her fingers through the newly cut strands. "Oh—Twix. That is not his girlfriend. She is my friend."

"You mean they don't sleep together?"

"Like in the same bed?"

"That's usually where people fuck, yeah."

He seems ready to laugh. She frowns, head tilting as confusion hums in her chest. "You mean like sex?"

He nods. "You know what that is, right?"

"Yeah, of course. I know all about it."

"You know they're probably doing it, right?"

"Ghost and Twix? No—no," she forces a laugh. "I mean, sometimes I catch him staring at her all weird. But I don't think—I mean, they hardly like each other and she is my friend, really, not his. He used to make me stay away from her, even. But I mean, they do spend a lot of time together now. It's usually to practice fighting and defense. Not to have...sex."

"Don't they share a room?"

"Just right now, because you guys are here."

Ari chuckles. "You really think they aren't fucking in there? She's really pretty. There's no way they aren't."

Blue looks back at Twix. Blue's fingers curl into the soaked fabric of her top. Her eyes flick back to him. "She would've told me if they were."

"If you say so."

---

T

Your thumb throbs in rhythm with the steady pump of Kyle's arms. Despite pressing it into your palm to dull the pain, the ache persists. You had nicked it while sawing off your hair, and now the taste of blood lingers in your mouth. You were still lapping at the painful pulse when the three men arrived to the pond, carrying a neon orange inflatable raft. They want to test it out on the water before embarking on the 35-kilometer journey across the channel. 

It is the third day of their presence and you can honestly say you've grown more comfortable, given that Kyle has gone hunting with you a few times now. He is easy to talk to, along with Nereida. Price—however—doesn't seem intrigued by you, or maybe you are insignificant in comparison to the rest that is on his mind. That's fair. You don't all need to be friends.

They've been spending most of their time gathering food. Ghost has been helping Price hunt deer to skin and dry into jerky they can take with them. Nereida showed you a patch of wild strawberries she found yesterday, boiling them down into jams before canning them. By having food with them, they will save time from having to hunt along the way. In perfect conditions, it would be a straight path, and they could make it to the Swiss mountains within a month or two. But it won't be a straight path, and obstacles are bound to hinder them.

Kyle audibly growls and straightens, wiping at his percolated brow. "This chamber just isn't inflating."

"It must have a hole somewhere. Check the seams," Price says.

Ghost flips the half-filled raft over with ease, running his fingers along the PVC. "Here." He taps what must be a minuscule puncture because you can't see it from where you sit. 

They patch it up with the little adhesive they have. The unease is noticeable as Kyle keeps pumping in air; they only have enough to cover a few holes, if they come across more. Finally, the six-person raft is full and they toss it onto the pond. Just the sight gets you thinking of all the variables they have to think of on the open water: the weather, currents, temperature. You had a friend in high school who swam across it once. She didn't get even halfway but having to pulled out, vomiting, and near-hypothermia. Open seawater is different than a pool. Unpredictable and quick to change.

"It seems sturdy." Nereida winds an arm around her husband's waist, pressing a chaste kiss to the underside of his jaw. "Don't worry about it."

"As long as it stays sturdy."

"It will," she assures him.

The cut has crusted over by the time evening settles and you have to will yourself not to pick at it. You find yourself alone with the horse, watching the sun set behind the trees, as everyone else eats. 

"You probably don't like being tied up here, huh? You'd rather be running around." The coarse mane engrosses your fingers. Cherry bobs her head and a wet muzzle brushes your elbow. It tickles and you smile softly. "I wonder what will happen to you once they leave," you whisper. "Horses can't fit in a raft, huh?"

"No, they can't."

A hand presses into her neck beside yours, the person's arm extending over your shoulder. You crane your neck at Kyle but his eyes are on the animal, thoughtful, brows lowered. You wet your lips and step to the side to bring more space between your bodies. 

"Not hungry either?" you ask.

Finally he looks at you, lips quirked at the side. "Nah. I had a big lunch." He stops petting her and crosses his arms, chin tilting. "Ever ridden a horse before?"

"Once or twice. As a kid."

His eyes almost lean dark green in the cast of orange light, but it must be a mere illusion. "Care to go for a ride?"

His eyebrow rises expectantly. You glance back at the cabin and then at Cherry. "Why not?"

He instructs you how to get on. You grip the knob of the saddle and flex your core, hoisting yourself with more strength than you've had to use in a few days. Kyle sits behind you and grips the reins after untying her. The last time you were on a horse was for a friend's birthday party; you trekked through a ranch on a white pony. Cherry is much taller than that one was, or maybe you're not fond of being so high up. You thread your fingers through her mane.

It is a silent ride at first as you try to ignore the sting on your butt, unused to firm leather seat. He must notice your discomfort because he tells you to relax and lean back. You do, until your spine brushes against his chest. It helps a little.

Cherry trots calmly through the trees, towards the circle of stumps that marks the east. 

"Do you think she will be able to take care of herself?" you break the quiet. 

"I'm sure she will be fine. Smart girl, huh, Cherry?"

The sun has disappeared but it isn't quite dark yet. "Are you scared?"

A breathy chuckle emits from behind you. He must realize what you are referring to—scared for the journey. "Yeah, always. I mean—I'm scared about Ari. He's the last family I got, and as old as he thinks he is, he's still young and naive. I still have to make choices for him."

"I was terrified of losing Joseph," you admit, and swallow. "He was so young and fragile. It felt like...like trying to keep an egg from cracking when your hands are made of stone. But at least I never had to take him to another country."

"That was your nephew? Joseph?"

You nod. 

"Tell me about him."

You rack your brain. "Well, he was seven. And he..." You smile to yourself. "He was the pickiest eater in the world, even when we were all starving. I could not get him to eat meat unless I practically burned it. And he liked to look at bugs. I did, too, when I was young. I used to dig up worms when it rained to show him." He hums a gentle laugh behind you. You find yourself lost in the thought of it for a second. "Sometimes I...I think about how once I die, there will be no one left to remember those little things about him. Then, he will be completely gone, you know?"

You don't know why you're telling him this. You shake your head. "Sorry."

"Don't be. We gotta talk about shit like that or else we'll go crazy."

"I'm pretty sure I'm already crazy."

"Probably." A deer passes to the left and Cherry startles, but he is quick to soothe her with a flick of the reins and a stern—easy. She settles. "Are you scared?" he asks after a moment.

"Of what?"

"Of traveling so far."

"Well, I don't know if Ghost..." you trail off, absorbing the tone of his voice. You stiffen. "Wait, what do you mean?"

"I mean how we're all leaving in a month."

"Wait—stop." You grip his hand over the rein with more force than necessary, urging him to bring Cherry to a halt. You twist your spine and gape at him. "What are you talking about?"

He eyes you with a frown, and rubs his neck. "Shit. I thought he already told you."

"No, he didn't. Tell me," you demand.

He clears his throat. "He, uh, agreed to come this morning, but only if we take another month to prepare and shit. Get his daughter ready, sort things out."

You try not tremble in anger as his words sink in, clenching your hands as your breath picks up. "Take me back," you breathe out, brain racing. "I want to go back now."

The ride back is silent. You feel shaken. Your nail digs deep into the nick on your thumb unthinkingly until there is a smear of blood over your fingers. The others are getting ready for bed when the two of you return, moon bright. You bite your tongue until Ghost leaves to his room, then you follow him, closing the door as gently as you can behind you.

He is halfway through peeling off his socks and stuffing them in his boots when you approach. "What happened to being a man of your word?" 

He looks up, resting his palms on his parted knees, looking far too relaxed for your liking. 

When he doesn't respond, you add, "You were supposed to tell me. You said you fucking would."

Your voice is low but harsh.

He stands, a calm understanding washing through his eyes. "I was about to tell you."

You throw up your arms but try to stay quiet. "Bullshit. You're just saying that now. You've had all day to tell me."

"I was waiting for the right time."

"You think I can't handle it," you accuse, an ugly snarl on your face. "That I don't deserve to be apart of these conversations even after everything I have done for you, and for her. I saved her life! You get pissed at me for not telling you about stupid things, meanwhile you don't communicate something so important like we are leaving with them in a month to fucking Switzerland. Does Blue know? Or do you keep your own blood in the dark, too?"

He growls quietly and takes hold of your chin, tilting your gaze to his. His touch is firm but far from bruising. "I am not lying to you. I wanted to have a conversation right now, where it could just be us. And no—I haven't told her. How I explain this to my child is not your concern." There is a command in his voice that forces you to calm down some, but your breath is still warm through your nose. He moves his hand to gently thumb a strand of shortened hair off your forehead, staring at it for a second, before gripping your chin again. "There is nothing I think you cannot handle. Now, who told you about this?"

Blotches of red crawl over your cheeks. "It doesn't...it doesn't matter."

He is visibly unsatisfied. He taps his thumb against your chin. "Tell me."

"It was...Kyle," you concede in an exhale. "He assumed I already knew."

His eyes darken. "It wasn't his place to assume."

"He didn't mean to." You reach up to pry his hand off, and he relents, leaving your jaw feeling sore. You rub it. "Why a month?" You try to change the topic.

He takes a deep, steadying breath and looks away, jaw flexing. "She needs time. I want to prepare her for all possible outcomes. I still don't think she is ready, but that doesn't matter. There won't be another opportunity like this in the future. I have to make her ready." He sits down on the edge of the bed and sits his elbows on his thighs, collecting his thoughts before adding, "And the weather is a big factor. Just because we have means to get across the water doesn't mean it will happen safely. The current is most predictable in July and August. We will wait until then."

You mentally sort through everything he is saying, willing yourself not to linger on the fact that you are beyond scared. Scared to leave the place you have finally felt safe in. Scared to clearly be the odd one out again. A tag-along. Everyone else in this group has a loved one looking out for them. You have yourself. You don't know if you have Ghost, really—not when Blue is the one he loves. His allegiance can only go so far.

"Okay," you whisper, more to yourself than to him. "A month, then. What about shelter? The nights will be our most vulnerable."

"We'll look for the safest places for the night. There'd be seven of us, so plenty of eyes to keep watch."

"And what if we run into a horde?"

"Well, we have plenty of ammo now for that." He flicks his eyes up to yours. "Thanks to you."

You nibble your cheek, palming your chest as if to calm your heart. 

"A month," he reminds you. "We will account for everything."

"Okay," you say again. There is a tinge of embarrassment over your outburst, but he doesn't seem fazed, as if you hadn't just barged in the room yelling at him. "Okay."

A click of his tongue. "Any more questions?"

"Not...not for now, I guess."

A few silent beats pass. The tension has left the room, leaving you with a wave of fatigue. Ghost must notice because he rises, gesturing to the bed. "Go on, then." 

The bed is yours again. Too exhausted to question it, you slip under the quilt, curling into a fetal position by the slanted ceiling. It's best to enjoy the warmth before you're back on the move. A week journeying through the woods was the worst you'd ever endured, barely surviving. Now, it'll be months, or however long it takes to reach the goddamn Swiss mountains.

The light flicks off. There is a groan in the mattress and heady warmth spills over you. Your eyes fly open. "What are you doing?"

"Getting some sleep."

You turn around to see him lying beside you, flat on his back, with his arms crossed behind his head. "Together?"

"Clearly neither of us fancies the floor."

You flush, feeling his firm thigh brush against yours. "Just... keep to your side."

"I'll be a gentleman, if you're worried."

"I'm not," you mumble. "How do you even sleep in that thing, by the way?"

"Like a baby."

"Don't you think it's weird that Kyle has seen you without it and I haven't?"

"Jealousy doesn't suit you, Twix."

"And mental sanity doesn't suit you, Simon."

"Don't recall giving you permission to use that name."

"What, only your old captain gets to use it? How close were the two of you, exactly?"

Teasing him feels better than you're willing to admit.

He grunts. A pillow is thrashed against the side of your face. "Go to sleep."

"Yes, sir," you bite into the pillow.

Your instinct is to flinch closer to the edge, though it is difficult given the small size of the bed and the unnatural size of him. Your knees float off the mattress. Still, his sprawled-out position leaves points of connection. The bastard. Your back, his elbow. Your feet, his calf. Small touches that do a surprisingly good job at soothing the mess in your brain.

---

You awake. Warm and rested.

Safe.

Morning light streams in, turning the backs of your eyelids red. Your face nudges forward until your nose brushes against fabric—a shirt. Awareness settles in slowly. Your toes stretch and brush against another set of toes. You realize you’re curled close against someone.

He’s still on his back, his right arm draped across your waist, fingertips resting on your exposed hip. Your breath hitches, and you do your best not to flinch. Your face is nuzzled into his chest, close enough to discern ribs from muscle. His steady breathing and gentle rumbles indicate he’s still asleep. You’re ready to peel yourself away when you notice your leg is on top of his, practically trapping him.

Fuck.

You stay still, devising a plan to extricate yourself without him noticing the position you're in. Then, in one swift motion, you leap up, removing all contact, and breathe hard as if ripped from a nightmare.

His eyes open and he swears. "Jesus. What was that?"

"Just a dream," you lie. "Sorry for waking you."

You jump out of the bed and practically run out before he can say anything; before he can realize how odd it'd be for you to have a dream when you haven't had one since... since staying in his room.

You lock yourself in the bathroom and grip the counter, knuckles whitening in the attempt to erode the feel of his warmth that seems to linger. A lump is forced down your throat as you lean back against the wall and close your eyes for a moment. When they reopen, you look down and lift your shirt, only to find the indent of strong fingertips brandishing your plush hip. Jesus. Your stomach knots and unknots. 

"You didn't like that," you whisper to yourself. You brush your thumb over the marks, gently at first, then palming them hard as if to erase them. You drop your shirt and look at the mirror. "You did not like that."

Before someone can stumble upon you talking to yourself, you comb your fingers through tousled strands and slip out. It seems most others are awake. How could you and Ghost have slept so long? Usually, the two of you are up with the sun. 

"Hey. Morning," you greet when you spot Blue on the porch, belly down, as she plays checkers with Kyle's nephew. She glances over her shoulder. Something in her bright eyes seems...off, but you can't put your finger on it.

"Hi. Is Ghost up yet?"

"Hm? Oh, uh—not sure. I didn't check, really."

"Okay." She looks back at the game and says nothing else. You feel as though she saw right through you. Or maybe that boy has told her everything. Surely he knows about Ghost's plans? Kyle had to have told him. Maybe that is why Blue seems upset, but like he said, it isn't your place to say anything. 

You are itching for a hunt. 

It feels urgent, for some reason. Like you want to get out of here before Ghost can be up, too. You find Kyle and he suggests that the two of you take Cherry so you can get go further south where he claims there is a meadow to look for deer. It is difficult to ride with him behind you and a bow on your back, so he wears it for you. You can feel his eyes on the back of your head.

"Awfully quiet this morning. Penny for your thoughts?"

"I talked to him," is what you give. "Last night."

"Ah. How'd that go?"

"It was fine. I mean, I am getting used to the idea."

"That's good. It'll be worth it, you know. Once we get there. Finally get to have a semblance of a normal life."

A normal life. You almost snort at the thought. 

The morning grows longer, and not even the haircut can save you from the sweat that gathers. You make it to the meadow after an hour of horseback that leaves your thighs bristling. He helps you down and ties Cherry to a tree. You wade through tall, bright grasses that sway in the humid breeze. It looks vaguely familiar, stirring something in your gut that has your boots frozen for a moment. 

Kyle looks back at you, noticing that you've stopped following. "Good?"

"I just—I think I've been here once before. When I was on my own. I came this way." Your eyes scan the surrounding trees, where the meadow feeds into the forest, and an a gnarly oak with distinctive branches catches your eye. "I definitely have been here. I slept in that tree."

You push into the meadow, shaking off the memory. Staying close to Kyle, you listen as he lightly shares memories from the military, careful not to startle any potential deer. He talks about his time in Afghanistan, mentioning that his brother was also there, but at a different base. Kyle didn't even know his brother had died until weeks later because he was out in the field.

"After Afghanistan is when I met Ghost the first time."

"Oh?"

He nods. "He was my lieutenant when I went to Russia. I was scared shitless of him at first. I mean, he had a bit of a reputation and I was only 22."

"He was good at what he did," you say.

"More than that. People said he was up to some shit outside of what he did, but that was just rumors."

You think you spot a streak of gold through the grass, but it is just a stalk of wild wheat. You look back at him. "What do you mean?"

"May have heard a thing or two about him killing a guy off-duty. Of course, unconfirmed, otherwise he wouldn't have been enlisted again."

He killed someone? Like actual murder? You're about to ask more, your mind flashing back to your face pressed against him an hour earlier. Then you spot a deer. Kyle sees it too and motions for you to stay quiet. Your boots are nearly silent as you draw an arrow, squinting to see clearer. There are three deer: an adult female and two fawns. You draw the string and aim for the adult, the easier target.

"I'll get the doe," you whisper.

"Gotcha."

The beady black eyes turn your way, and you hesitate for a moment. There's movement, a flash of grey, and the doe snaps her eyes in another direction. What is she looking at? Your brows furrow, arrow following her gaze, when the answer appears: a Grey launching toward the deer. The three deer run off, and you release the arrow, aiming for the Grey's head instead.

"Motherfucker. Ruined the kill," Kyle mutters.

You weave toward the corpse, surprised to see such a fast one alone, indicating a new infection. The stench is pungent, enveloping you in a thick cloud. You shudder. The Grey writhes, your arrow lodged in its neck instead of its brain. You draw another arrow and aim when a hand suddenly grips your shoulder.

"Twix," Kyle breathes in your ear.

"What?" 

You look away from the Grey and follow Kyle's gaze, your eyes widening in horror as you realize the terrible smell isn't from this single creature. It's hundreds. A dark, grey mist that unfurls through the trees. A growing chorus of agony as their tattered bodies collide—some limping, others hurtling forward in a grotesque dance, but all converging on the meadow.

[sirhamburrger]

havin' deep and uncomfortable conversations around the christmas tree (rin itoshi x gn!reader)

(a continuation of this more ryusae-centric drabble) being unexpectedly vulnerable with you wasn't really on rin itoshi's christmas wishlist. but he does want to ask you something else, and it would really make his christmas if you said yes. you will get a sentimental feelin' when you hear voices singin', "let's be jolly, deck the halls with boughs of holly" || wc: 861 || tags/cw: hurt/comfort, background ryusae, itoshi brother drama (but they're working on it), rin is bad at telling people how he feels (he's working on that too) series m.list

you watch the video ryusei just sent you. it��s... of him slapping sae’s ass really hard, but after months of being stuck with them as your roommates, your humor is broken. you whip your head around, giggling, ready to show it to rin, but your smile fades when you see the crease between his eyebrows. that only happens when he realises he's forgotten to buy groceries, or…

or when sae texts him.

you set down the box of baubles tucked under your arm and take his hands in yours, brushing his hair out of his eyes so you can look at him properly. even so, he doesn't look you in the eye.

“everything okay?” you ask softly.

he blinks. you feel his hands clench into fists within yours. 

“yeah. everything's fine.”

“what did he say?”

"he wants to have lunch with me tomorrow.”

you furrow your brows slightly. “well, then you should go. i know we have plans, but we could always go another day.”

he nods, but he's got his brooding face on, still. there's something he's not telling you, and you're determined to get it out of him on this not-very-eventful saturday afternoon.

so you flop onto the ground by the christmas tree - the christmas tree the two of you are in the midst of decorating. wiggling your way into the shade of the lower leaves, you tug on his pant leg.

“well? join me!”

looking slightly bemused, he lays down on the floor and positions himself opposite you. admiring his beautiful eyelashes up close, you twirl a lock of his hair around your finger. he smiles at this, his breath fanning over your face.

you ask him point-blank, then, when he might least expect it.

“what are you afraid of?”

“nothing.”

“liar.”

you stare at him as seriously as you can, and he stares back with double the intensity. you’re locked in, you could say - it’s a shared tradition of yours that whenever you have a staring contest, winner takes all. the last cookie. choice of date location. or something you want to know.

seconds creep by. thirty. forty-five. a minute. a minute and fifteen. tears start to pool in your dehydrated eyes.

rin's gaze softens some.

"are we about to kiss?" you mutter weakly.

"give up, darling," he advises gently.

a tear runs down your cheek. "no."

he makes a tsking noise at your stubbornness, and slowly - very, very slowly - he closes his eyes.

"i'm scared that sae is going to treat me differently now that we're both grown up and he knows we can't ever go back to what we were before."

you blink.

damn, that's...

he opens his eyes. "happy?"

it’s like a punch to the gut when he says it like that.

"of course not," you mumble. "i'm sorry. i shouldn't have pressured you to say anything at all."

rin sighs heavily. "i think a part of me kind of wanted to tell you anyway, so."

"do you want to tell me more?"

he nods.

"when we were kids, it was all so easy. i looked up to him - i still do. we were together 24/7. we did everything together. and then he left for spain. came back a changed person. and okay, i get that he wants to reconcile and all, but it's just weird. he's really trying his best, and i am too. but we'll never be how we were in the past. it's too late for that."

"oh, honey..."

you want to reach over and hug him until he can't breathe, but then you remember you're lying on the floor. you scoot over to lie by his side.

"the important thing is that you're both trying really hard. you're talking to him more often, meeting him for meals - and sae really does want to make things right. i literally live with the man! he lets ryusei check his spelling in the texts he sends you."

"really?"

"yes, really. so you don't have to be worried. not at all."

“okay.”

you see the crease between his eyebrows has disappeared, and peck him on the nose. his lips twitch, and you see him open his mouth –

“move in with me.”

what?

“i want you in my life,” rin murmurs, abrupt, blunt, but that's how he does things, after all. “because i love you, and i want to be with you all the time.”

you're temporarily frozen in place, utterly surprised. but that quickly gives way to a rush of affection for your boyfriend, and you pepper his face with little kisses as he chuckles.

“i'll take that as a yes, then,” he says dryly, and you give him another kiss for his troubles.

you think of sae and ryusei, and pout. “i'm going to miss having them as roommates, though.”

“but would they make you breakfast pancakes every day?”

you pretend to collapse in his arms. “i’m going to wife you up one day, itoshi.”

he reaches for the switch on the christmas lights strung along the tree branches, and you look up, and your vision is filled with sparks of colour.

and in your little world, all is perfect.

this is what's happening btw (it probably wasn't very clear)

a/n: i never thought i would write for rin because for some weird reason i didn't like him when i watched his anime debut but like?? is he not so much like todoroki? (if todoroki was more edgy ig) but yeah i was prepared to write him as a sweetheart in this one

taglist: @anglefish3008, @standcom (open, leave a comment on any post in this series to be added!)

bllk masterlist || general masterlist

© sirhamburrger 2024

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

Gossip Is Currency

Prompt Day 21: Formal | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Canon Background Stancy | Tags: Missing Scene from S2's The Pollywog, Post-Halloween "Bullshit" Scene, Pre-Steddie, Platonic Hellcheer, School Sucks, Eddie Knows

This is cruel and unusual punishment. 

Eddie sits on the stupid folding chair, behind the stupid folding table, with a stack of tickets to sell to the winter formal. It was this or another suspension, and it was only because he was sure Wayne would not appreciate not having to talk to the principal again anytime soon, that Eddie chose this option.

They've got bubbly cheerleader Chrissy Cunningham sitting next to him controlling the money box that they definitely didn't trust him to be anywhere near, as they try to sell tickets to the kids still roaming around during extracurriculars.

Chrissy hasn't said anything to him after greeting him, and he hasn't said anything in return. They hung out once before, during a middle school talent show, but he doesn't expect that she remembers that.

Another shitty jock walks up.

"Two?" Chrissy asks.

"Yeah," the kid answers, and she takes the money, makes the change, and all Eddie has to do is hand over the two ticket stubs.

He resents it. 

It's stupid, it's–

"It's bullshit," he hears from down the hall.

Yeah, it's exactly that.

And hell's frozen over, if he agrees with King Steve.

Harrington's in some sort of heated debate with Wheeler as they stomp down the hallway, bickering back and forth. She's a fucking firebrand, that one. Everyone thinks she's a priss, but oh no, Eddie's studied this whole school long enough to know that's not even remotely true.

Harrington's gonna get knocked down a peg or two under her, and deservedly so.

Seeing them coming in his direction is at least interesting. Eddie tears off the two tickets and hands them over to Tweedle Dumb, and keeps watching the free show heading his way.

"Winter formal tickets?" Chrissy asks Harrington, and Jesus H. Christ, does she have no observation skills? Now is not the time. This is the time to blend into the wall so they can get the dirty fucking details on this fight. Gossip is currency.

Harrington turns to look at them, and shakes his head no. He looks more sad than mad, and that isn't near as fun. 

"Steve," Wheeler says, and she looks annoyed.

Harrington runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the ends, and then they're gone. 

Well, that was uneventful in the end. He didn't learn anything worth repeating.

Eddie had heard rumors of a Halloween night blow-up, but wasn't there to see it with his own eyes. Apparently they're still in a tiff today.

He can still hear the echo of them around the corner and down the hall, and well, he's nosey. It pays to know everything that's going on in this school.

"Be right back," Eddie says, and follows them down the hall, with the excuse that he's heading to the pop machine.

He digs four quarters out of his pocket, and pretends it's hard to make a decision, before hitting the Mellow Yellow button. The machine whirrs to life, and the can drops down. He feeds the other two quarters in, still trying to listen to Harrington and Wheeler fussing by the double-doors.

Eddie can't really decipher much besides hissing mumbles. Damn.

He presses another button without even really paying attention.

Welch's Grape Soda.

He might actually pick that over the Mellow Yellow he thought he originally wanted.

Harrington and Wheeler leave, so Eddie takes both cans back towards the table, holding them up, an offer, "You want?"

Chrissy smiles, "Really?"

Eddie nods, "You choose," he says, and she falters, just a bit, looking up at him like there might be a wrong answer.

There's no wrong answer here. No trick. He puts them both down on the table, "Totally fine either way."

She reaches for the grape, and is still looking his way. He nods, "Excellent choice," as he picks up the Mellow Yellow, and cracks open the can.

"Thanks, Eddie," she says, like he's given her something more than a can of pop. Carver's a bigger dick than he'd realized, apparently. 

They sit in silence, waiting for more kids to finish up with their stupid clubs and practices. 

The door clangs closed on the other end of the school, and they wait. It's Harrington again. He crosses the hall intersection in his little shorts, and Eddie can see that he's pinching his nose as he darts out of their line of sight as quickly as he entered.

Then it's just them, alone in the hallway again.

"She called him bullshit," Chrissy whispers.

Eddie turns and looks at her, waiting for her to elaborate.

She does.

"On Halloween. At Tina's party. She called him and his love bullshit. I heard it myself, waiting for the bathroom. She was drunk, not making sense about Barb Holland. It was pretty mean."

"No shit?" he asks, leaning closer. 

She nods, giving him a rundown of the whole party. She's got all the good gossip, not just about Harrington and Wheeler's dust up. Eddie feels a twinge of something. 

He's well acquainted with being shit on publicly.

Nobody's around this school, and Eddie gets up to go take a piss. He can't sit still. Hates it. And doing it for this is a special version of hell.

He walks down the hall, to the bathroom. He stands in front of the urinal, unzips and is pissing when he hears the stifled cough from behind him.

Eddie turns to look and sees familiar shoes under the stall door.

Tucking himself back in, re-zipping, he reaches over and flushes the urinal.

"Harrington," Eddie says. 

He waits and there's no response. 

"Harrington," he tries again.

"Go away, Munson," Harrington says, and then mumbles under his breath, "It's bullshit. I'm bullshit."

Eddie takes three steps towards the door, then impulsively turns back.

"She's wrong, you know? You're not bullshit."

And then Eddie waits a beat before adding, "You're just an asshole."

Steve chuckles, and Eddie smiles to himself as he turns and heads out the door.

Timing is everything. 

Mission accomplished.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

[atenea585]

A Car For Christmas

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: Dean doesn't seem to want to be there for Christmas, but it seems that it was quite the opposite

Word Count: 984

A/N: Merry Christmas and Merry Holydays, everyone! This is my @spnfanficpond Secret Santa gift for @spnbabe67! I hope you like it and let me know!

Tags/Warnings: 18+, smut, angst, sex in a car, Christmas is here, established relationship

“I just don’t understand why you don’t want to celebrate Christmas. You’ve always wanted to.”

“We have a hunt, I’ve told you.” He said as he packed his things into his bag.

“I know, but… Dean,” You held his arm. “It’s Christmas…”

He sighed and turned to look at you.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You shook your head.

“No, you’re not.”

He frowned and turned his body towards you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What you heard. It seems like you’d rather hunt a creature that any other lone hunter could than spend Christmas with your brother and me.”

He stared at you and you noticed his jaw tense.

“That’s not true.” He murmured.

“Then prove it.” You looked at him pleadingly in the eyes. “Stay.”

He sighed and shook his head. He wasn’t going to stay.

“I’m sorry, really.”

He walked past you, leaving a kiss on your head before leaving.

A week had already passed, today was Christmas, and you were alone in the bunker. The tree you had decorated with the boys seemed dull, lifeless from the absence of the place.

You had been stirring the coffee in front of you for about twenty minutes. The energy you had been saving for this day was nowhere to be found. But a noise made you raise your head.

Maybe it had just been a normal noise in a bunker that was years old, but you got up anyway and followed the noise.

“Damn… Thing...” You heard a growl coming from the room you shared with Dean.

You peeked through the door and looked in confusion at the back of a man as he fixed something on the bed.

“Dean?”

He turned around in surprise and ran a hand through his hair.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You raised an eyebrow and tried to look behind him.

“What are you doing here? And the hunt?” You asked as you walked towards him.

But he stood in your way, his hands on your arms.

“Well, you said it yourself, sweetheart. It’s Christmas.”

“What’s that back there?” You tried to look behind his shoulder again.

“Hey, hey.” He laughed nervously. “It’s nothing. Why don’t you go to the library for a while?”

“What’s that back there?” You repeated.

“Nothing, nothing.”

Dean tried to move you back, but you managed to get out of his grip and walk past him, seeing what was behind him.

It was a half wrapped box.

You heard him sigh behind you.

“It was supposed to be your Christmas present. But I realized I’m really bad at wrapping these things.”

You turned to look at him slowly, a smile making its way onto your face. Suddenly, you jumped on him, Dean immediately holding you up as you placed kisses all over his face.

“Whoa, hey, hey!” He looked surprised. “You haven’t even opened your present yet.”

You got off of him as you laughed.

“Okay, okay.” You said as you turned around and began to open the box.

When you opened it, you noticed a video tape. You took it and read what was written on it. The Best Lana Del Rey Songs.

You shook your head in amusement.

“Now I can listen to Lana del Rey in your car.”

“Or yours.”

You turned to look at him and he was holding up car keys.

“No… You didn’t.”

“Oh, yes, I did.” He nodded. “I built you a car.”

“Oh, my God…” You slowly placed the tape on the bed. “I can’t believe it.”

“I can show you, doll.”

He took your hand and grabbed the tape before leaving the room. He led you through the bunker until you reached the garage.

You let out a gasp of amazement as you saw a red car next to his Impala.

“Oh, my God, Dean.” You jumped up and down in joy as you walked over to your new car. “You did it? By yourself?”

“Of course I did.” He walked over to stand beside you. “You like it?”

“Do I? It’s the best Christmas present anyone’s ever given me.”

Dean obviously liked that comment. A smile appeared on his face. He really had tried hard to give you a good present.

“You know?” You bit your bottom lip, running a finger down your car before looking at Dean. “I think we should get it new.”

Dean’s mind was working in such a way that he understood your double meaning.

“Oh, I think so too, sweetheart.” He said as he left the tape on top of the car.

He didn’t even wait two seconds as he held you. You wrapped your legs around his hips and he opened the back door of the car, climbing in with you and leaving you on the seat face up. Your clothes quickly came off of your bodies.

“Baby, we'll get this car dirty before you even drive it.”

He entered you and you moaned loudly, your nails digging into his back and earning a growl from him as he started a steady pace, gaining satisfaction from checking out your expressions of pleasure. He buried his head in your neck and began nibbling on your skin.

“God, Dean, harder.”

He picked up speed, the car windows thickening as it swayed in rhythm with Dean’s thrusts.

“Merry fucking Christmas to me.” He mumbled as he pushed you deeper into the seat.

The car seats were starting to get damp beneath you in a mix of sweat and cum.

“You feel so good, Dean.” You sighed.

“Yeah? You like my cock in your pussy, baby?”

“Yes, I do.” You whimpered.

Your eyes rolled and you clenched around him as you came, sending him straight into his own orgasm and leaving his seed inside you, which slowly began to leak out and spread across the seats.

“God…” He huffed. “Merry Christmas, baby.” Dean whispered in your ear before placing a kiss there.

“Merry Christmas…”

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[felassan]

Some more DA:TV and related snippets from Sylvia Feketekuty, Part 2. rest of post under a cut due to length and spoilers. [Post One, Post Three]

The dev team really wanted to deliver on Emmrich's romance [source]

Sylvia Feketekuty has now left BioWare so there are likely some things she can't answer now "just because I can't look them up with certainty anymore" [source]

When Emmrich is first introduced, he has a skull helmet. Why does it never ever appear for the next 40-100 hours? "The helmet does indeed look wicked! I believe it actually shows up on his shelf in the Lighthouse eventually. (If I had been a smarter writer I would've asked if we could have it appear again, that one's on me.)" [source]

User: "In another post you mentioned shops in Nevarra City near the Necropolis. How far IS Nevarra City itself is from the Necropolis? Do only senior MWs get to go?" / Sylvia: "I'm reluctant to say what the distance is since I never defined it in game so it's Unknown™. But I imagine they can either walk or take a carriage, depending. Also I never imagined junior MWers are forbidden from going into town or such. It could be they have set hours and times where they're allowed. But got to get all those chores done first..." [source, two]

On the DA:I goat scene ([link]) - "The GOAT! God bless them, that was a delight." [source]

Brian J. Audette, on [this thread] - ""Better late than never" addendum to this thread. I just noticed that Isle of the Gods' writer Sylvia is on here now and I'd be remiss not to tag her in this thread. I can't say enough wonderful things about having worked with Sylvia on this mission." [source] / Sylvia: "Thanks Brian! You tackled an absolutely jam-packed mission with aplomb." [source]

Jo Berry: "Thank you for everything and everything else, on both Veilguard and Inquisition. Sunlight on your road, wherever it goes." [source] / Sylvia: "Thank YOU for all your writing Jo. Seriously, you were a godsend on Veilguard and DAI both." [source]

Trick Weekes: "It's been fantastic working with you, Sylvia, and I know you're going to crush it with whatever you do next. Thank you for finally letting me make you "the person who has to do journals so Trick doesn't" on one of our projects." [source] / Sylvia: "Thank you Trick! I'll miss working with you. It was an honour to finally be given the awesome responsibility of the journal system that still haunts my dreams." [source]

John Epler: "sylvia did you see i told the world Emmrich sleeps standing up like a horse" [source] / Sylvia: "It's days later but: yes. Yes I did." [source]

User: "As someone who also has a truly debilitating fear of death, Emmrich is so special to me. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen it represented in such a clear and concise way." / Sylvia: "Thanks, definitely felt that fear myself. I really wanted to express it clearly and was hoping would resonate with others." [source]

User: "Do you have any thoughts or opinions on what nickname Emmrich might have gotten from Varric if he'd ever gotten one?" / Sylvia: "Oh man that's a good question, but ultimately since I didn't write Varric, that must remain a mystery. Nicknames can only be bestowed. ("Bones" like someone suggested below is funny though.)" [source]

User: "If Emmrich's hobby is alchemy/plants, Vorgoth's is art, and Audric's is architecture... what's Myrna's? (Next to Emmrich, she's my favorite Watcher - sorry Vorgoth!)" / Sylvia: "Myrna has a one off line, you may not have heard it yet, where she talks to Vorgoth about getting tickets to the Sword of Drakon.* She enjoys a night out at the theater, whether it's a play or an opera. *(I think that's the play I named, I hope I'm recalling my own line haha.) It's a bit indulgent of me, but I chose Sword of Drakon because it was one of the plays I made up for a series of codices in DAI about Orlesian theater. I had a lot of fun with these and wanted to give them life once more. [link]" [source, two]

User: "During Rook’s disappearance in the prison, how did Emmrich react? Considering their intense romance, did he fall into depression, or did he show a more vulnerable side? Could his fear of death have influenced the situation? In the immortal romance💀, Emmrich promises that nothing will separate them, not in this world or any other. How likely is that? Would he go to great lengths for Rook, even crossing boundaries? Or, at some point, would he accept Rook's death?" / Sylvia: "1) Very strongly! I think it's a bit more interesting if I leave details to your imaginations, but Emmrich feels things deeply and probably had some sleepless nights. 2) So this I can't say much on even though it's a juicy topic. The truth is, I wouldn't even know unless I was actually sitting down to write it. Again, Emmrich feels things very passionately, but this is the kind of scenario where I might want the player's choices to have an effect." [source, two]

User: "Any chance that color scheme [of Emmrich's coat] was based off the corpse flower?" / Sylvia: "I couldn't find anything on the colour scheme and the corpse flower. Afraid this one's a mystery to me." [source]

User: "I'm really curious if there's a Nevarrese language? We have Orlesian, Antivan, Tevene, Qunlat..." / Sylvia: "I wondered that myself, especially given its ancient ties with Tevinter and also Orlais which would certainly have affected the languages of power and influence. Could also have roots with the Planasene. We never talked about one though, as far as I know, so the answer remains...unknown. 💀 (I did introduce tomb-script, the language you see etched into stone in the Necropolis, but I thought of it as more of a specialist's language for occult and magical things specifically.) (If we did define a Nevarran language in some corner of the lore, now I'm going to feel embarrassed, but I don't BELIEVE we did.)" [source, two, three]

User: "I wanted to ask if you have anything you can share about MW grave dowry jewellery - is it the sort of thing they keep on at all times? Also, would Emmrich like jewellery gifts or give them to Rook?" / Sylvia: "I figured it would be something they wear most of the time, or at least in public. You don't want to be without your grave-gold if you pass away! Emmrich would love to get jewellery, especially if it marked a special occasion like his other pieces do! He'd also probably like to gift Rook a piece of grave gold himself, though he knows a non-MW Rook might look at that part askance." [source, two]

User: "Question: how much if anything can you tell us about the circumstances surrounding the emergence of Emmrich's magic and him going to the Mourn Watch? In my mind, his parents' death could certainly be a catalyst for the emergence of mage powers, but I'm so curious why the butcher's boy goes to what seems the equivalent of Nevarran Harvard instead of a regular Circle unless he immediately demonstrated outstanding ability?" / Sylvia: So timeline wise, I think his magic manifested after he was taken in. This part isn't canon, so much as a background thought I had that maybe the spirits of the Necropolis nudged the MW to scoop up this future corpse-whisperer. It seems like a kind of place ripe for that sort of omen. That said, it could've also been a kindhearted Watcher who saw how shattered and alone this young boy was, and thought an upbringing in the Grand Necropolis would be the better place to deal with his grief. It's the kind of thing I want to leave open unless someone goes back one day to fill it out!" [source, two]

User: "what’s the overall Mourn Watch opinion on the whole Weekend at King Markus’s the other Mortalitasi are pulling? I can’t blame Emmrich for not wanting to be involved with that political mess!" / Sylvia: "No clue what you're talking about. King Markus is in the finest of health!!!!! ahahahahaha (To my mind Emmrich's response indicates a tension between the orders, but that they're going along with the polite fiction to avoid a mess. I can't say what the future holds though.)" [source]

User: "Ah, one last note: whoever decided “DA liches are immortal protectors and not always evil?” Chef’s kiss. It’s all I’ve ever wanted!" / Sylvia: "Thanks again! It was in Emmrich's first draft. The other writers and editors gave me good feeback on lichdom and the philosophy behind it especially" [source]

User: "I'm an ICU nurse, and that is imagined to confer a comfort with mortality. Suffice to say Emmrich has been a huge comfort to see." / Sylvia: "Thanks so much. I really wanted him to struggle with it while also engaging with it, because it's something I find hard as well. And I hoped it would find purchase with players." [source]

User: "If you’re willing, can you share a bit about the other orders within the Mortalitasi? Is there a rivalry with the Tevinter Imperium?" / Sylvia: I'm afraid I don't have much, sorry. I left the other Mortalitasi orders a big open canvas in case we wanted to invent more some day. (We've mentioned the palace Mortalitasi are separate from the Mourn Watch, so there's one. As you probably caught, Emmrich's not a fan of theirs.) Is there a rivalry with the Tevinter Imperium? I can't really point to anything in the game talking about that, so I hesitate to call it canon. But to my mind it would be very natural and also very funny. So if that ever manifests, I approve." [source, two]

User: "was any of Emmrich's design or personality modeled on British actor David Niven? I think there is resemblance just wondering if that was intentional." / Sylvia: "Oh I love David Niven. But the more direct actor influence for me was Peter Cushing in a few old Hammer Horror films." [source]

User: "just wanted to say thank you for creating the character of Josephine in Inq!! Helped me learn some stuff about myself when I was younger and meant a lot." / Sylvia: "Thank you so much on all counts! I'm glad the lovely Lady Montilyet was there for you (and enormous credit to her actor, Allegra Clark. She absolutely nailed Josephine, straight away.)" [source]

User, on Emmrich: "He mentions he thought he would marry - is that permitted for Mortalitasi when it wasn't for regular Circle mages? Can they now raise their own children?" / Sylvia: Mortalitasi have a lot of power. I imagine the Nevarran Chantry might grant them permission to marry outside the Circle more regularly than in places where mages are given less respect. (Mages can also marry within Circles, so no permission needed in those cases.) The same might be true for mages raising mage-born children in Nevarra, but I say that with less certainty. I think that's a topic I would've wanted to discuss with the rest of the narrative team." [source, two]

User: "is there a particular reason why emmrich is always wearing a glove on one hand?" / Sylvia: "I like to think it's mostly because he works a lot with his hands. The glove seems useful if he has to, say, grip a rough outcrop of rock when traversing the Necropolis, or deal with a bitey corpse." [source]

User, on Emmrich: "On my 1st run I played a trans Rook and romanced him. It felt incredible how he was so accepting of Rook's identity, and in return she could support him as he did a transition of his own as well. Beautiful mirroring!" / Sylvia: "Thanks very much! If those scenes worked, it's thanks to some people at work who kindly gave feedback that helped get the tone right." [source]

User: "I've been wanting to thank you for writing Luck in the Gardens for 4 years. Hollix was the first time I ever saw a non-binary character given a real voice." / Sylvia: "I loved writing Hollix in that story, they were a treat, and I'm glad they meant a lot to you. (And a shout out to a nb friend who gave me some good feedback on the character, I don't think the story would've been as clear without their help.)" [source]

User: "I was curious about Audric from TN, and if he originally was planned to have an appearance in veilguard, and what he's up to now" / Sylvia: "Love Audric, but I never planned to bring him into VG. I'm not AGAINST it, but I didn't want the short stories to feel like required reading for the game, and I liked where his arc ended in DatDM. That said, I dropped in a few references to Audric to let people know he's around and well. And I imagine he's doing what he loves: being a force of order, in the library. (And reading books during the more quiet hours below.)" [source, two]

User: "As a consumer of (and probably future creator of) so called "erotic" fanficfion, I'm wondering how you feel about the fact that fans make it about a character you created?" / Sylvia: "No issues with it whatsoever. We put sex and romance into the game itself, after all. I think people use fan art and fanfiction to extend their time with a story they've grown fond of, or to figure things out. So it feels like a natural extension of that." [source]

User: "Maybe one day my rook will join the mw!" / Sylvia: "Well, the Grand Necropolis is always eager for more company...🪦👻" [source]

User: "did the flame eternal (short story) come first or the flame eternal (quest)? i’ve been wondering if the quest was named after the story or vice versa" / Sylvia: "I wrote the scene first, the short story came after. But I named the quest AFTER the short story had come out, so I'd say the quest is named for the story because I liked the callback." [source]

User: "1.I know John answered already that Emmrich sleeps like a horse but is there really no bed for this man? 2.How would he react to a bouquet made for him?" / Sylvia: "1. Unknown. Perhaps he brings out pillows and a blanket for the slab in his room (after scrubbing it, of course!) Perhaps he goes home to an elaborate silk-covered bed in his Necropolis apartments. Or the horse thing. (TBH: I never decided myself, so I've leaned into impish mystery). 2. Emmrich would be absolutely delighted and flattered by being presented with a flower bouquet." [source, two]

User: "I hope it's okay to pop here but it might interest you to know a lot of us have been headcanoning that he has a secret bedroom behind one of his bookshelves! It seemed to line up with his sensibilities somewhat." / Sylvia: "That would honestly be great. Pull out the right book and snooze time." [source]

User, on the cemetery date: "This makes me feel like Mourn Watchers include the dead in important personal milestones/events and, if so, I love that so much. Like they want to share these events and the joy/love/excitement/etc. with those who have passed (and perhaps linger.)" / Sylvia: "That's absolutely how I thought of it too." [source]

User: "was there any game/book/show/film that inspired the Mourn Watch and Emmrich? When I saw them in the preview content, I got reminded of the Locked Tomb series by Tamsyn Muir and playing through the game cemented those vibes." / Sylvia: "I hadn't read any Locked Tomb when writing Emmrich, I think we must both just have impeccable taste. (I actually tried to stay away from contemporary stuff on necromancy when writing him, out of a superstitious fear I'd be unduly influenced. I do want to talk about influences later though!)" [source]

User, on Josie: "Do you think she’s open to having kids/adopting with the Inquisitor? Lord Ontranto and Yvette are so ahead!" / Sylvia: "I think that falls firmly within the category of what you imagine she and your Inquisitor's romance looks like, which means: absolutely, if that's where you imagine life would take them." [source]

User: "Emmrich, his story & everything surrounding him absolutely played a huge part in helping to lift me up & connecting me with new friends online" / Sylvia: "Thank you! And I'm very glad to hear Emmrich and his fellow Watchers helped you out when you needed it. He'd be pleased to know so himself." [source]

User: "Was it ever considered for him to appear in the game?" / Sylvia: "(short answer is no, but I wanted to let people know Audric's doing well.)" [source]

User: "I enjoyed your short stories in Tevinter Nights. Emmrich mentioned working out in the morning. What does his morning routine look like, and what kind of exercise does he do?" / Sylvia: "Thanks so much! Those stories have a special place in my heart, so that's especially nice to hear. On exercise: He likes a brisk stroll, and does morning stretches, and for something more strenuous, he likes to go swimming. Why? It's a workout where you don't have to worry about sweating. That just seemed to align with his fastidiousness in a funny way to me. (I also imagine exploring the Necropolis keeps him active, climbing all those stairs and crumbling ledges and the outsized walls of hallowed tombs, etc.)" [source, two]

User: "Harding will turn to a MW Rook who's been talking nerdy necro shop with Emmrich, and goes (paraphrasing), "You're so different when you're talking about this stuff than you are when you hang out with us!" and I loved that" / Sylvia: "Yes indeed! And thanks. I really wanted a beat where you realize MW Rook has learned to swap between being a fancy nerd and talking a bit more like "regular" people in Thedas. It seemed like a fun trait for that background." [source]

Sylvia, on how she came to BioWare: "No formal training. The closest to practice I had was running tabletop RPGs for friends, which actually helped me a lot with understanding the different kind of RPG players out there and what people want out of a story. And honestly: I just kept applying, over and over. That was my main virtue. I was rejected the first couple times I applied to BW. And rightly, I think, I wasn't ready and practicing in between really helped me become a stronger writer." [source, two]

Some more on this topic ^ from Sylvia: "To be honest: mostly luck, some perseverance, and then writing skills, in that order. I was rejected at least twice from BW before I got in, and I think they were right to do so. I wasn't ready yet. The third round someone I knew passed on my sample to a writer there, I did two more rounds of samples while taking feedback and revising over the next month. And then I was lucky enough they liked it enough to interview me. I wish I had better advice than perseverance. I think having a small, completed game, even something text based or a mod, isn't bad either. Even if it's short, it shows you finished it. But: my entry was over 15 years ago now, and to be honest I'm not sure what BW's applicant process are anymore. I don't want to be discouraging though. I would say keep applying, and make friends with like minded people who also want to make games, and best of luck." [source, two, three, four]

User: "I've been wondering something about Mourn Watch Rook's background - their bio says they were found as a baby + raised by the MW, and they reference it in-game, but then they also say they were a street kid and left their old life behind to join the MW to Taash. I'm just curious how one - being raised by the MW - lead to the other - street kid era. I just hc'd it as a euphemism for my Rook's party girl phase lol but it did leave me a little confused." / Sylvia: "This is a case of the background changing slightly over time, and me not squaring it in time with dialogue. In my mind: MW IS found by the Mourn Watch, raised by them, and work for them. But MW Rook also had period(s?) growing up where they explored Nevarra city, to explain why they're more. street savvy and worldly than your typical Watchers who never leave the city. I've seen people noting some discrepancies, and in a perfect world I would've caught those lines in time to smooth them out to encompass the whole story. But perhaps your Rook gives slightly different answers to different people for their own, mysterious reasons! (Or, in reality, it's writer error.)" [source, two, three] "Anyhow, I encourage any head canons that help square these discrepancies" [source]

User: "I romanced him on a Rook that I perceived as about 42ish and my running interpretation of the lines acknowledging her being young were either Emmrich not realizing how old she is, a running bit between them, or some cute form of flattery to not remind her of her own age haha" / Sylvia: "That's adorable, I love it" [source]

User: "1. What would Josie's ideal date be? 2. Could adopted kids be heir of the Montilyet estate or would it go to Yvette? 3. What does Josie think of the Crows?" / Sylvia: "1. I think she'd try to structure something, but the Inquisitor taking her away from her strictly scheduled routine to relax would actually be better for her. A picnic in a garden, a stroll around a lake followed by a meal in a quiet little restaurant. Something with a soft evening. 2. I don't think I ever said so in the game, but to my mind Josephine had some nieces and nephews in line to be heir. If she adopted a child and thought they'd be a better candidate, they could absolutely inherit the estate. (And of course, she could bequeath money or personal effects as she liked.) 3. She thinks of them as a necessity in Antiva, and that it's important to appease them. There's probably highly placed Crows she would get along with. But she'd never be comfortable with them. At the end of the day they're contract killers, and she's no lover of violence. (If I actually DID mention who Josephine had lined up to inherit the estate after her, but just forgot, I will ask for mercy because the game came out over 10 years ago.)" [source, two, three, four]

User: "Would you ever consider making a playlist on spotify of the sort of music you could picture Emmerich listening to? Or perhaps sharing any of the music you listened to while writing Emmrich?" / Sylvia: "I actually have an itunes playlist of what I listened to when writing Emmrich on my old computer. If I dig it out, I'll post a screenshot! (A lot of ambient stuff, probably unsurprisingly)" [source]

User: "I utterly, completely adore the way Josephine was written, she's such a wonderful and complex character. Her history as a bard, her ruthlessness, her kindness and sweet nature and how CUTE her romance is." / Sylvia: "Lady Montilyet herself would be flattered to hear you liked it." [source]

User, on Sylvia's comment about Peter Cushing being a go-to for what Emmrich would be like: "This makes me so unbelievably happy given my love for Peter Cushing 😭 my love for Emmrich was inevitable." / Sylvia: "I want to talk a little more about it later but Cushing was such a wonderful actor. Wish we'd had him around even longer." [source]

User, on death and working in death care: "In the end, it’s always about memory." / Sylvia: "That's so true. We want to be remembered, or to have something that lets people know even a little about who we are. (It's why I'm glad newspapers still print obituaries, you can read about the most amazing lives.)" [source]

User: "I was starting to think the game was reading my mind and tailoring to me once he said his favorite color was lilac, and I was given the option to say darker purple." / Sylvia: "I'm glad you enjoyed Emmrich and his romance. And that the bit about colours worked for you, I was trying to think of what would be something fun there, and purple is one of my favorites too. (Fine taste!)" [source]

User: "“Down Among the Dead Men” is one of my favorite chapters from Tevinter Nights. I loved Audric and I was so happy when Myrna mentioned him in Veilguard! Was there any chance he might’ve appeared in game?" / Sylvia: "basically I didn't plan it, but I wanted to let TN readers know Audric is living well" [source]

User: "If Hezenkoss was also you ALL of that was a sheer stroke of brilliance!" / Sylvia: "Thank you! Hezenkoss was me, so glad you liked her. She was a blast to write. Oh my god, I meant to write Hezenkoss was one of my favorites not "me". (I think I snipped out something and consequentially sound like a maniac in that post above. SORRY. She is not me, I wish I had that kind of confidence.)" [source, two]

User, on behalf of their friend: "Well, spontaneously I'd be interested if she can say any more about Emmrich's past romances. Was there someone really serious among them, or all just fun and casual? I'm also curious how the whole mage training works in Nevarra. Are some trained from the start by the Mourn Watch or does everyone go to the Mortalitasi equivalent of a Circle first?" / Sylvia: "1. I think there was probably a mix of more serious romances and more casual ones over Emmrich's life. The serious ones just never panned out. (Until Rook, if you're romancing him.) 2. I pictured the MW taking in promising members from other circles, but I left their selection criteria vague on purpose, in case we needed to define it later. Of course, there's also exceptions. We've seen they take in some orphans or foundlings (MW Rook and Emmrich, for example) when fate, chance, or pity allows it. (I had an idea spirits might sometimes nudge MWers to take in someone, but that's not in the game, so it remains, I suppose now, my own head canon.)" [source, two, three, four]

User: "Emmrich is every bit the warm and kind academic that I looked up to in my undergrad/postgrad days, and I have taken time in the game just to wander the Grand Necropolis and take everything in." / Sylvia: "My pleasure, and thanks very much for saying so. (Props to all my teammates, it took a lot of people to bring those characters and places to life, and they were all so enthusiastic about our weird gothy corner of Thedas.)" [source]

User, on Emmrich's dream: "One of few cases where writers don't go for "actually immortality is lame" lesson to appease the audience for whom immortality is unattainable. Refreshing to have a character who wants to live forever, can do it, and it isn't treated as a mistake. One of the boldest bits of writing in the game." / Sylvia: "Thanks Mary - that was one of my aims, because so many times in stories, immortality is a fool's errand. I wanted it to have its rules, and its price, but not something disastrous or out of reach." [source]

User: "The MW as a whole was beautifully done and the way they handle life and death was deeply healing and aided tremendously in my own personal journey with grief." / Sylvia: "I'm very glad meeting Emmrich and the Watchers helped even a little, that means a lot to hear." [source]

User: "Amazing work in veilguard and inquisition honestly and the flame eternal was such a fun read! Unless it’s been answered before my query is where do the Mourn watchers live/sleep? Is it a case of they live in the higher parts of the Necropolis or do they live in the city and commute?" / Sylvia: "Flame Eternal was a fun one, hadn't written a story that short before but I enjoyed introducing Johanna and Emmrich's dynamic back in their good old days... As to your question, there's one line of banter between Emmrich and Neve that talks about this (so, very easy to miss.) The Mourn Watchers live and sleep in the upper (safer) levels of the Necropolis." [source, two]

User: "does mortal!Emmrich return to the Necropolis or spend more time in the world first? He plays detective with Neve & camps in Ferelden with Harding feels like he’d want to experience more of the world before returning home." / Sylvia: "Impossible for me to say what the future will hold with certainty, but I think Emmrich's enjoying exploring the world too much to go back to living in the Necropolis full time just yet. He'd certainly want to keep visiting regularly, but there's so much more to see." [source]

Sylvia: "The Watchers have a special place in my heart." [source]

User: "I just wanted to say how much I love Emmrich" / Sylvia: "Thank you very much! I'm so glad to hear you enjoyed getting to know him." [source]

at this point tumblr stopped letting me add to this post !

[ethereal-blossom]

Ikevil in an amusement park!

Includes general headcanons and romantic ones at the end.

General headcanons:

- Victor is the parent. He carries the heaviest and biggest backpack which is truly the emergency kit. Harry is showing withdrawal symptoms due to lack of sugar? Elbert forgot to put on sunscreen and is now at risk of looking like a walking lobster? You forgot your water bottle? No worries, Victor anticipated everything! He knows his beloved children so well.

- He walks with the map as well and if you split into groups, he becomes the one who you need to call if something happens. Also the one who plans where and when to meet, mostly at eating places so you can refill your stomaches together.

- William is the backup parent. He enjoys to mostly silently observe and is quick to notice the things like Harry being low on sugar and Elbert having forgotten to put on sunscreen. If you split up and it's time to meet but a group isn't back yet, his guesses of why are extremely accurate. Like hm, the ride Elbert and Alfons went to is fairly popular so the line must have been long, and isn't there a souvenir shop on its way here? Elbie must have gotten distracted by it.

- Elbert refuses to go in the big roller-coasters. He goes into visual focused rides and will often be seen in the souvenir stores. Does not care about the ridiculously expensive price tags and tires himself out by carrying so much bought stuff. If you happen to be someone who doesn't like roller coasters that much, Elbert is the one to hang around with and he'll surely buy you any souvenir you want.

- Alfons is everywhere and nowhere. One moment he is with Elbie telling him that the mouse ears aren't beautiful but overrated money grabbers, then he is joining Liam in thrilling roller coasters, and at times even Will shrugs when asked where he thinks Al is. Seriously, he has Victor panicking when it's time to go home and Al is nowhere to be found.

- Victor will bother/manipulate/pester/whatever works/does it really matter when you're that attractive Roger into using his ability to see if he can hear his beloved boys and robin from time to time.

- If you like to ride the wildest roller coasters, Liam is your guy. This man has no fear; only curiosity begged to be satisfied. Might actually get high on it and is tempted to use his ability to cut the line. It's his mission to ride the fastest and highest roller coasters this park has to offer.

- Some of the crown members are great at making friends in lines! Liam's enthusiasm is contagious and he's so easy to love. With his charisma and excitement, he easily starts a conversation which is needed with such long lines. Ellis is very gentle and caring, so when he sees someone needs help in the line or appears nervous he does what he can. Victor is a social butterfly with a joyful grin so that man will definitely start small talk. All three would entertain the kids who are in front or behind them if it's a long line, especially when the kids are getting annoying and the parents look tired. Victor is immediately in his element by performing magic tricks, Ellis would play with them, and Liam would start making the kids laugh with his acting. But this makes them immediately beloved by the people around them.

- Imagine Jude in the line with annoying kids who are bumping into him... The only reason he's there is because Victor promised him a good sum of money and he's either getting convinced by Ellis or you to go into rides or it was part of the deal with Victor, and then these kids keep bumping into his back. Doesn't yell at the children but sends a few nasty glances and let out some damn loud tch's directed to the parents who are too busy with their phones before he snaps. Will demand payment from the parents as compensation for this public disturbance.

- William will randomly walk up to people he sees are surpressing their desires to try a ride. Free Willam therapy sessions don't pause for no amusement park.

- Roger isn't interested in the visual rides; he doesn't find them exciting so you'll find him in roller coasters a lot. But also is a little bit like Victor and makes sure everyone stays hydrated and gets to rest when they need to. Like oh I see, the lil' lady wants to go to the next roller coaster even though her legs hurt from standing too long. He threatens to throw you over his shoulder if you don't comply, which he actually does and then sits you on a bench to treat you with a snack despite being a disobedient girl.

- Ellis, Victor, and William are everywhere too. They are in for every ride!

- Harry is the chillest. He mostly follows Liam and makes sure the curious cat takes a break every now and then. He doesn't join Liam in the extreme rides but will grab his Sherlock book and read while waiting. Will ask for a lot of sit breaks.

Romantical headcanons:

- William could not care less what rides you two are riding as long as you want to be in them. He has a fantastic time discovering which rides you prefer and will absolutely convince you to go into ones you want to but are also scared of. Same with finding snacks and good places to eat. It's a wonderful experience where you get to know each other even better, making this amusement trip feel weirdly intimate. I can see Will having a content and happy smile on for the entire day, and when you walk through the park together, I don't think he has his arm wrapped around you but he does have his hand on your farthest shoulder in a way that feels loving, supportive, and encouraging. When buying matching accessories, you both choose each an item after a minute of "What do you want, my little robin?" "I want what you want! " "Oh, what a coincidence. I want what you want" "... Well, I want what you want me to want-"

- It's so chill being with Harry. There are some rides that secretly excite him but he got to say, this amusement park is more amusing with you next to him. He'll complain sometimes about how you're dragging him through the park, but when you ask if that's really how he feels he'll say he doesn't mind (translation: he enjoys it). Whenever you see a food place and it sells something sweet, you two are on it! "Let's get matching accessoires!" "Whatever, if that's what you want" (translation: he's flustered). Harry would like to simply hold your hand and stroll through the park, talking about everything and nothing. So simple but so serene. On the way home you'll ask him how it was to explore the amusement park together to which he answers, "not bad." (translation: he ducking loved it.)

- It really doesn't matter how curious about a roller coaster Liam is, if you don't join him this clingy cat will not go in it either. Being around you calms down his curiosity for thrill a lot. So don't worry if you're not into thrill because there is still so much to be curious about! You'll not be bored for a single second and because of that, his touches are very versatile. One time he'll hold your hand to excitedly lead you to a cool souvenir shop, then he'll wrap his arm around your shoulders as you walk through the park, your waist when it's crowded, your arm during rides... Almost the entirety of your upper body will have been touched by him. Very much in a similar boat as Will when getting matches accessoires so you both choose an item each :)

- Nobody takes matching accessoires as seriously as Elbert. You'll have visited every. single. accessoire store at the end of the day. Your eyes could have lingered on a wristband for one second and your man goes "Do you think that's beautiful? It'll look beautiful on you. I will buy it-" It's so much worse when Alfons makes his cameo cause he'll point at anything and be like "now this, my dear Elbie, this is beautiful" all to tease you. Elbert enjoys going into the visual rides with you! And I bet you could convince him to go into the tamer roller coasters. Has a hand on your lower back the entire time (at one point you guys had too many bags and Elbert was ready to leave three behind purely so he could keep touching you).

- Now Alfons is turning this into a freaking game. He makes you chase him through the entire park, slightly out of your reach but you know he's there. Why he enjoys you stubbornly following him throughout the park? He doesn't even have a clear answer himself... or so he likes to think. But, Al leads you to all places he thinks you will enjoy and he always stay at a place long enough for you to find him and enjoy the ride, shop, café, or whatever he thought you'd like together. During the times Alfons and you walk side by side he'll place his hand on your back which will slowly move lower and lower. Another man who pretents like he doesn't care about matching accesoires but once he wears it he'll randomly touch it with a hard-to-read expression (cat pretending like he's not THAT attached to his owner). Guys I swear this is not me but I'm 99,9% Al will try to finger you in a ride at least once even if it's only to get a reaction out of you no but if a ride scares you he'll definitely try to distract you in whatever way works.

- "Is this ride going to be scary?" "I promise it's not, Lil lady." Spoiler alert: it was scary and now Roger is saying how cute you look with teary eyes. He's not a fan of visual rides but will go into them for you and you know what, turns out he quite likes them because of your reactions and how easy it is to touch your thighs. The type to put his arm around or behind you in roller coasters! He definitely checks up on your heartbeat regularly to see how nervous you are for a roller coaster. If he thinks you got peer pressured into riding a roller coaster he'll get you out of there. Now, Roger's hand is either in your back pocket, on your ass, your hips, or your lower back. Roger didn't think he'd be into matching accessoires but again finds himself quite liking something because it's you. Love makes things glitter.

- Jude will be like "tch, look at how these people are bunched up together and... Lil' birdie where do ya think ya standin'?" *Proceeds to wrap an arm around your hips to pull you into him*. Jude only goes into a ride when you go into it. Literally, he doesn't leave you alone and will follow you everywhere except the bathrooms. You're the only who makes this trip bearable. If another crown member tries to sit next to you in a ride, let alone a stranger, Jude is like I ain't on this ride for nothing except my woman. Move or give me everythin' that's on ya bank account. Especially if it's Victor that bill will be through the roof. Also another man who pretends to not care about matching accessoires but funny how you'd have to rip it off of his dead body. Jude would walk with his hand on your lower back and maybe on your hips or waist.

- Ellis will let you take the lead and often ask what you want to do next. As long as he gets to hold your hand, he's happy. Really, Ellis is going to hold your hand the entire time. Especially when it gets crowded you feel his grip tighten. You two have the biggest fun trying all of the food and you immediately make recommendations for the other guys. "I want what you want" (matching accessories version part 3). Please he'd look so cute in matching accessoires, having a mischievous smile on his face cause he definitely sees this as a way for other people to see you belong together. He feels slightly bad for letting his selfishness get the better of him but that melts like snow in the sun when he sees how happy you are. Also secretly enjoys when you get scared in a ride because he loves it makes you clingy and depending on him, and it's an excuse to hold you tight in his arms.

- If Victor doesn't have an arm around your shoulders he's holding your hand and you'll be skipping to the next ride. He's also very flexible in what you'll be doing but he does like the occasional thrill of a roller coaster! But your comfort is his number one priority. Victor loves to see you so carefree with a child-like spark in your eyes as you explore the park together and he'll do anything to protect it. One time you accidentally bumped into someone and when they turned around annoyed and ready to shoot with words, Victor went "whoopsie daisy! I am so clumsy. Please forgive me." And when you want to tell him he shouldn't have, Victor picks you up and twirls you around, kissing you on the nose and ask what you should do next, unless you have something naughty in mind...? What a dirty mind his darling has, he's obviously talking about eating snacks that'll make your teeth rot with the amount of sugar that's in it. Loves the idea of matching accesoires so much that he can't choose and approaches you with 12 different items; it's a live-or-die situation for him. He dealt with loneliness before he met you and so wearing matching accesoires is a physical sign you're connected. Plus, he loves giving and could not care less about the price tag.

[animasola86]

F o r g e t f u l 🎀 2 / 4

Mistress takes you to a very special night out, reminding you of your place in your unique relationship as she pushes you right into the center of attention.

a dominant woman X a submissive girl with a memory problem

WARNINGS: F!Reader-insert! NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Mistress/pet. Domme/sub. Manipulation. Gaslighting. Praise kink. Dubcon elements. Humiliation. Exhibition(ism). Bondage. Dildo gag. Blindfold. Public groping. Forced orgasm. (More tags on AO3.) WORDS: 5.5k

1 🎀 2 🎀 3 🎀 4

The ride in the back of the car is a blur. You sit next to Mistress, her hand between your thighs as she fingers you lazily, her eyes fixed through the window, away from you, and you're just a toy to play with, to pass the time as the car weaves through the busy streets, the driver not saying a word, oblivious or used to whatever happens behind him.

She makes you clean her fingers afterward, after edging and teasing you, and you seem to know the drill. You can't come unless she tells you to. It's a heavy thing in the back of your mind, engraved in your brain, and while you bite the inside of your cheek to suppress the urge to let go, you let her handle you like that, because it's her right, isn't it?

Your mind is still hazy, filled with a strange kind of cotton that pushes on any thought that may come in the way, of protest, of confusion, of fear and shame. Those flicker up, occasionally, like fireflies, only to be squashed by something else, by the dizzy spell making your head spin, the throbbing heat in your stomach, the tension in your muscles, whenever she touches you. It doesn't matter then, it's only her fingers under your coat, on the little sliver of skin as she guides you through a crowd of people, the warmth of her body next to yours, her dominating presence as she meets strangers and talks to them, smiling, all professional, and you're just a girl beside her, small and unassuming, or so you think.

The lights are bright as you enter the building, warm air hits your face, makes you blink. Someone takes your coat, her hand is around yours as she pulls you along, the sound of your heels echoing through the vast room. Confusion fights through the fog in your head as you turn your gaze this way and that, finding strangely familiar sights in front of your hazy eyes.

You're in a gallery of some sort, a giant room sectioned off into smaller rooms, high ceilings vanishing into darkness, low hanging lights getting dimmer the further you go. There are large prints on the walls, but you can't quite make out what they portray yet. People wearing elegant dresses and expensive looking suits stand in clusters in front of them, holding champagne flutes, talking amongst themselves. Some turn their heads to you when you pass, a strange expression on their blurry faces.

You follow Mistress, her hand tight around yours, your heart beating faster. She guides you through various rooms, all filled with large photographs spanning the walls and people in front of them, and it's when you reach the last room, where the lights are slightly different, that you notice what they show.

It's you.

Similar motifs like you've found in your roommate's desk, pictures of your body, your holes, your glassy eyes, your lips strained around a gag, your hands bound behind your back, your skin marked by intricate rope patterns. You feel the heat rushing into your cheeks, your ears, your entire head flares up in shame as you realize that you're not just her muse (for her to take pictures of she can enjoy on her own, hidden away in her room), but a canvas for every single person in this city and beyond to marvel at.

You feel sick, your stomach cramping up badly as you squeeze her hand, your own shock fighting to get past the cotton in your head. This can't be happening. Your eyes flicker over the groups of people standing in front of blown up pictures of your cunt, stuffed with various toys and items, a whole wall full of unflattering close-ups that lead into a full body shot of you tied to a bed, wrists and ankles held by cuffs, arms and legs spread, as thin metal chains hang from the ceiling, attached to the little clamps that are holding your nipples and your pussy lips.

You ache just looking at it, your breasts tensing up. Your gaze wanders further, to the next wall, this one dedicated to your ass and various things being shoved into it. You feel like crying, and it gets only worse when you realize there are TV screens mounted between the pictures. While the photos show a moment captured in time, the screens show videos of how those moments came to be: you see the white-gloved hand and how it moves various objects in and out of your holes, a sickening motion, in and out, and you notice there's even sound, overlapping moans and whines and lewd squelching noises, echoing from a total of six TVs arranged around the room.

Your stomach drops, your throat tensing up, you can barely breathe. And the people in the room seem to realize that it's you who is being portrayed like this, and they stare at you, some with neutral looks, some leering and excited, some with disapproving or arrogant scowls. You press closer to Mistress as she stops in the middle of the room. She looks at you then, a soft smile on her face. You feel like fainting, it's all too much, but then she reaches her free hand up to caress your warm cheek, and you freeze, staring at her, the panic in your head pausing under the touch.

“What's the matter, pet?” she whispers. “Don't be shy now, you're a star, my dear,” she adds, leaning down to brush her lips against your ear. “They are all here for you. Just for you...”

You frown slightly, trying to focus on her instead of the noises around you, the sounds coming from the TVs, the chatter and laughter and hushed whispers. Your heart is beating in your throat, right against the tight collar, your muscles clenching around the plug and around nothing, your body seemingly adjusting to your surroundings while your mind still fights whatever is going on here. You cling to the tall woman in front of you, your eyes pleading her to take you back, take you away, stop this humiliation.

But she only tilts her head, her thumb moving along your bottom lip, before she says something that makes you freeze, both in shock and in the strangely familiar urge to please.

“On your knees.”

And you do as you're told. Of course you do. You go down, perched on the balls of your feet with your heels pressing into your rear, and you square your shoulders and fold your arms behind your back, pushing your chest out, looking up at her with your eyes glazing over and your mind going empty.

“Ladies and gentlemen, my dear guests,” Mistress then raises her voice, her gaze still fixed on you as she addresses the people around you. “Welcome to another night of sinful sensations, tantalizing touches, unknown urges and frivolous fun. Please gather around, don't be shy,” she adds, finally looking away from you and around the room, beckoning the strangers closer, her arms spread wide as she smiles her beautiful smile. “The show will begin shortly. My assistants will bring you an assortment of objects, and I ask you to choose one each, and wait your turn. Oh and don't forget to take a pair of gloves, we don't want to leave any compromising evidence, now do we?”

She laughs, and several people join in, while you kneel before her, focusing on her, trying to ignore the shuffle around you. Your heart is thundering in your chest, your head spinning out of control. And despite the humiliating nature of whatever is happening, you feel your arousal drenching your underwear, a sticky slick that rivals the hot tears burning in your eyes. Your chest rises and falls as you breathe rapidly through your nose, your lips pressed into a thin line to keep them from trembling.

The hand on your elbow startles you, but it's only Mistress as she urges you into a standing position again. She gives you a gentle nod, and you follow on shaking legs as she walks to a strange contraption in the middle of the room, some sort of bench in an X-shape, right in the center, surrounded by the pictures of you, by the videos of an anonymous hand shoving phallic objects into your holes, the sounds that echo from the screens pointed directly at you, a weird garbling of moans and helpless cries, overlapping in a disorienting fashion.

A horrible vertigo grips you as you stumble forward, gently pushed by the woman behind you, and before you know it, you end up lying on your back, a soft cushion beneath you, your head hanging off the edge while your legs are raised up, your limbs fitted perfectly into the shape of the bench-like thing. As you look up, you realize there's a large mirror right above you, and you meet your own frightened gaze, eyes wide, pupils dilated, a strange gloss in them that could either be tears or something else entirely. While your legs are spread (and tied at the ankles by a pair of unknown women) and your arms are arranged in a T-pose (with your wrists being tied down as well), the rest of your body is secured by a large leather strap spanning over your stomach.

You struggle slightly, testing your restraints, but nothing budges. Though instead of fueling the panic settling in your belly, you feel weirdly relaxed, soothed by the way you cannot move, knowing you can't escape. And in the back of your cloudy mind you also know: you don't want to anyway. Your gaze wanders to the tall woman standing next to you, smiling down, a camera in her hands.

“You're doing great,” she says softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “My good girl.” Her praise burns through the uneasiness, silences the distress to some extent. Her hand moves around your head, lifting it slightly as her eyes move away from you to something you can't see from your position. And you don't have to, you can feel it.

It's a gag, and as soon as it comes into your view, you feel your heart accelerating. There are two dildos attached to it, one pointing inwards and the other pointing outwards, and the mere idea of having that thing in your mouth and down your throat makes you tense up badly. A whine escapes you before a sigh sounds from beside you. Mistress puts her camera down and steps closer, taking the gag from whoever wanted to shove it into you. She meets your eyes, and even though she's upside down, you calm a little when you look at her.

“You can do this, pet,” she says as she moves the tip of one dildo against your lips. “You've done this before. Many times. You like having things down your throat, remember?”

Her words sink into your muddy mind, burning through the doubts, and even though it feels like an impossible thing to do, you part your lips and allow the object into your mouth. She smiles at you, slowly pushing the silicone toy deeper, it teases the back of your throat, and to your own surprise slips right past your gag reflex, stretching your throat, bulging your neck, sitting tight against the collar. You stare up at her, tears burning in your eyes as she fastens the leather strap around your head, keeping the gag in place.

“Good girl,” she coos, caressing your warm cheeks. “You didn't even gag. I'm so proud of you.”

A weird warmth settles in your stomach, as you watch her, the other dildo attached to the gag slightly obscuring your view. Its sight should disturb you, knowing what it is for, but you're eerily calm, focused on breathing through your nose as the object in your throat just sits there, pressing on your tongue, with saliva already dripping past your lips (the wide leather band of the gag sits loosely against your mouth, allowing you to part your lips and let it drip), and you know you'd only make it worse if you panicked now.

And somehow the image of her riding your face like this gives you a strange kind of comfort, definitely distracting you enough to ignore whatever happens around you. Subdued voices echo through the room, it's eerily quiet, apart from the continuous moans and whines coming from the TVs, sounds you made before, apparently, and you realize you won't be able to make them tonight. Closing your eyes for a moment, letting the tears press past your lashes, you focus on them, trying to imagine (remember) the scenarios that caused you to sound like this.

You've only seen the pictures, you have no memories of doing any of those things, so you can only assume what it must feel like to be stuffed and used like this. Your body, however, seems to remember it just fine. Arousal pools in your core, drenching your thong, perking up your nipples that strain against the fabric of your bra and top, while goosebumps ripple over your bare arms.

There's more shuffling around you, but you don't want to open your eyes. You can't. It doesn't feel real if you keep them closed, not as intimidating, and it's easier to handle, or so you tell yourself. It's actually strange just how calm you are, strapped to this weird table/bench with your arms and legs spread and tied to individual parts of it, allowing people to stand between them and right next to you, and you can feel them, their warmth and presence, anticipation in the air. Your heart beats faster.

Suddenly you flinch, eyes flying open, a muffled groan escaping you that almost makes you gag around the dildo in your throat, as you feel hands stroking along your arms, in an almost sensual way, synchronized left and right, and the touches end when they shove an object into each hand. You don't dare to turn your head so you look up at the mirrored ceiling, and you realize they've put a pair of thick black dildos into your hands. With how your wrists are tied, you cannot move them, only open and close your fingers around the toys.

You frown slightly, and your confusion is answered when Mistress' velvety voice echoes through the room. “Ladies, some of you are in for a surprise tonight. There are numbers on the base of your selected toys, and if these range from 1 to 5, you are invited to have a special seat on our special Toy. Yes, only the ladies, sorry gentlemen, you can still watch, and if you grabbed one of the special toys, I ask you to give it to a woman of your choice, if they're willing, of course. This is a night of sinful sensations, but consent is of utmost importance.”

Her words sit heavy in your stomach, and you wonder if you really consented to this as well. You can't remember. But then again, there's nothing you can do about it now.

She continues, her voice louder as chatter and shuffling fill the room. “Ladies, if you like, come closer and assume your positions. Dim the lights, please.”

Around you the bright lights turn down, but there are still two spots directed right at the center, illuminating your body and enough of your limbs, but when a bunch of women approach the table, you can barely see their faces. They are guided to your hands and feet, and while the dildos in your clammy hands make sense, you wonder what's the special seat by your feet, until you realize they're probably supposed to sit on the pointy tips of your high heels.

A strange heat crashes through you. It's one thing to imagine Mistress using you, but complete strangers, getting off by humping your shoes of all things and riding the toys you're holding for them? But then nothing seems to surprise you anymore after walking into a gallery filled with pictures of your body, where a willing audience waits for a night of debauchery (and willing and eager they seem with how packed the place is). You're still glad when you see a familiar face looking down at you (upside down again) as Mistress approaches your head.

She caresses your cheeks and wipes a bit of drool off your chin as she smiles down at you. Her hand then moves to the dildo attached to your gag, and the sudden touch moves the one in your throat, pushing it a little deeper. Tears burn under your lashes, but you force yourself to remain calm, breathe through your nose, ignore the obstructing object stuck in your mouth. You see her gliding her fist over the phallic toy, the motion somewhat soothing as you focus on it.

“My dear guests, you came here for a special adventure,” her voice fills the quiet room as she starts talking to the people gathered around the table. You keep your eyes on her as she speaks. “This is art, my friends. Art found in devotion, in submission, in using a canvas of flesh and bones, using it, expanding it, stretching the limits of what's possible, of what's right, of what's conventional. I invite you to explore your own limits tonight, find pleasure in using this devoted pet of mine.”

You blink slowly, mesmerized by her words, but they still poke at the buried confusion and doubts in your mind. That little voice of protest, though, is quickly squashed again by the overwhelming cotton filling your head, a strange sort of excitement mixed with fear and uncertainty, held together by a warm feeling like a caress, a praising word, a soft smile, a gentle touch. It's enough to ignore the meaning behind her words, as straight-forward as they may be.

“You may use her in any way you want, within the confines of the scene. Use your toys, arrange her however you like – ask for assistance if necessary, this table can be moved, allowing you access to both of her holes. After the first round, we will turn her around, so make use of her perky little breasts while you can. Oh, and if you'd like to cut off her clothes, my assistants will provide you with the necessary tools. But enough instructions. I invite you to enjoy yourself. This is art, my friends,” she repeats, her voice rising. “Use it!”

The air changes around you, allowing those doubts to come back after all. More tears gather in your eyes. You feel strangely heavy, pushed into the soft cushions, your restraints cutting into your skin, the dildo in your throat pressing against your airways, making it even harder to breathe. Panic settles hot in your stomach, while cold sweat covers your skin. And no matter how woozy and dizzy you feel, you can't completely ignore the fear crashing through you. But it's not only fear, it's bated anticipation. What will happen next? What will these people do to you?

Of course the pictures and videos all around you give you enough hints, but you felt weirdly disconnected from those. This, however, is real. The gloved hands touching your body are real, the dildos between your fingers are real, the warmth of people standing close but in the shadows is real. Hushed voices fill the room, so many strangers, and you can only hear them, see their hands and the objects they chose in the reflection above you (and some of them make you really anxious).

You want to swallow, but you can't, your saliva running mercilessly past your lips and over your cheeks, and with how your head is angled back, it gathers warm and hot in the shell of your ears and in your hairline. Your fingers twitch around the hard silicone in your grasp, your hips jerking slightly when you feel hands rubbing along your inner thighs.

You know you should be freaking out, but again, you can't. You are so calm it scares you, only letting your body react to what's happening, while your mind has become silent, shut up by whatever is swirling through your system, numbed by whatever was in your water. You blink slowly, focusing your eyes on the dildo protruding from the gag, wondering what it will be like to have someone ride this thing when it's attached to your face like that.

You don't seem to have to wait long when someone steps up to your head, but before you can take a closer look, you feel something soft being put over your eyes, taking another sense from you, a blindfold, and you'd sigh if you could, both slightly relieved you don't have to look up a stranger's crotch as they ride you, but also weirdly disappointed that you cannot look up a stranger's crotch as they ride you. With the room plunged into darkness, all you can do now is listen, listen and feel.

For now they all just seem to explore your body, hands sliding along your sides, up and down your legs, over your clothed chest, some are tickling you, or trying to, as you find yourself unable to react to those teases in your armpits or against your ribs. You're glad you're too far gone to care, because you just know it'd be torture otherwise.

It's almost relaxing, in a way, to be stroked like that, caressed and touched, but as it happens all over your body, all at once, you find yourself quickly overwhelmed by it too. Not being able to see who touches you and where makes it all the more intense. Breathing harder through your nose, your throat working around the dildo stuck in it, you try to focus on the steady beat of your heart, slightly erratic, but not as panicked as it should be.

It almost lulls you for a moment, drowning out the hushed voices around you, the noises of past-you being stuffed full and moaning about it, but when you feel something cold dragging between your breasts, you flinch nonetheless, this time straining your neck, triggering your gag reflex. Your body jerks, your throat clenching around the toy, spit and bile shooting up your esophagus, filling your already filled mouth. You gag again, and panic crashes through you as you can't seem to get rid of all that saliva.

Luckily you feel a pair of hands on your head, turning it so it can drip past your trembling lips, easing the pressure in your throat. Tears burn in your eyes, soaked up by the blindfold. Something like a wet cloth wipes over your cheek, and you relax slowly.

“Easy, pet, everything's alright,” you hear Mistress' soft voice close to you, calming you instantly. “You're doing great. No need to panic.” Her hand moves along your neck, teasing the collar, pressing slightly onto the object in your throat. “Just breathe, it's fine... you can do this. Like you always did, okay? You love this, remember?”

You don't, but you feel too dizzy to fight that sentiment. Your head feels lighter, breathing works, but it's a struggle nonetheless. It helps to be praised and reassured, though, and you focus on the fact that Mistress is right there, looking out for you, making sure you're doing okay. It's a warming sensation in your belly – that almost distracts you from the colder sensation of something gliding under your top and bra.

It feels like metal, and when you hear a quiet snip-snap sound, you know it's a pair of scissors, cutting away your clothes to expose you to your surroundings. As if being strapped to a table and wearing a dildo gag isn't humiliating enough, you realize you are now naked in front of a bunch of strangers whose hands don't miss a beat before they grope at your freed breasts, squeezing and kneading, palms pressing down, fingers pinching your nipples until they hurt.

You let out a muffled whine, squirming against the onslaught of touches, but they keep going, pulling and poking, the squeaky surface of their latex gloves rubbing harshly against your skin. As they do, the scissors move lower, and the same snip-snap sound comes to your ears when your panties fall away. At least they leave your garter belt and stockings, giving you the illusion of still wearing something. But now your cunt is out in the open, and the first hands seem very eager to explore it properly.

Suddenly the table beneath you moves, and you feel your blood shooting into your head as your hips are being lifted while your head is lowered even more. Vertigo grabs you, sending shivers down your limbs, increasing the head spinning and stomach clenching. In this new position, your rear hangs off the edge of the cushion, allowing the bystanders to grab your ass and grope more of your soft flesh. Most of them do, but some go straight to the exposed base of the butt plug, pulling and poking it mercilessly.

You keep squirming, the strap around your stomach holding you down but not enough, allowing you to circle your hips in a grinding motion that seems to entertain the people around you. While the voices have been hushed before, you can now hear snippets of what they're saying – and you somehow wished you wouldn't.

“Look at her, so eager.”

“Can't wait to be stuffed, huh, little slut?”

“Wonder how many she can take. Did they say there was a limit?”

Your breathing quickens, rapid puffs through your nose, chest rising and falling faster against all the hands gripping at you. Your stomach flutters against the tight leather strap, your thighs trembling slightly, toes curling in your shoes. Between all the comments, laughter and other noises, you suddenly hear the faint clicking of a camera, and you just know that Mistress is in the midst of producing a new line of degrading pictures of you.

Somehow, you couldn't care less about that. Being exposed to a room full of strangers, groped and touched and poked at, feels much worse than having aesthetically pleasing pictures taken of your body, though to have lasting evidence of this experience isn't too nice either. But there's nothing you can do anyway, so you focus back on trying to get enough oxygen into your burning lungs, trying to fight the vertigo making your head swirl, just trying to live through it all.

While your nipples are being pinched, your boobs pulled into two different directions, sending sparks down your body, you feel a gloved hand on your throbbing clit, poking and prodding, giving enough pressure to make your thighs twitch, but not enough to ease the tension in your lower stomach. You try to move your hips, find at least a bit of relief, but instead of allowing you the motion, you feel a stinging slap on your mound, then three more in rapid succession, causing you to gasp and ultimately gag around the dildo in your throat as various pains crash through your body, making it jolt against your restraints.

Your head is being supported again, turned to the side to allow the spit to drain from your mouth, as you hear a low voice above you. “Gentlemen, if I may remind you, impact play is not on the agenda until round three. Please be patient.”

You hear hushed voices in response, shuffling noises growing louder before they disappear. You vehemently ignore her mentioning something about 'round three'. A new hand comes to your cunt, much gentler, a soft stroking rhythm of gloved fingers that ease your rapidly beating heart. You relax again, leaning into the hands holding your head before they leave you too. You hear the shutter of the camera again, much closer, while the hand on your center starts parting your labia, slowly rubbing up and down, and you can't help the muffled moans slipping past your gag.

Your hips undulate against the stroking fingers, and this time, they allow it, leaning into it, letting you decide how you want to be touched, at least to an extent. Your hands claw at the dildos you're supposed to hold, the special seats that have yet to be claimed, as you feel your stomach tensing up, the friction of the fingers against your clit the relief you have been looking for all night.

They move with you now, slipping between your slick, poking at the sensitive bud, and you feel your heart accelerating, your breath stuck in your throat, your muscles tightening, your back arching against the leather strap, you're so close, so close, and you almost expect to be left hanging again as it drags on and on, but then... finally... the fingers pinch your clit so hard you can't even handle all of your body's reactions.

First you inhale sharply, on the verge of screaming, tilting your neck in a way that makes you gag, and as your stomach jerks, your hips buck up, your legs kicking in their restraints, toes curling painfully, your muscles contract, clenching hard around nothing and around the plug in your butt, and you come, violently at first, convulsing uncontrollably, before you're swept away by a wave of pleasure that crashes through your body gently, a reverberating tingling from the top of your head all the way down to your cramping toes.

“Well done,” coos a voice in your ear, a hand stroking your sweat-slick face. “And congratulations to the lady who was the first to make her come. If you like her to return the favor, you may choose a special seat now.”

Your breaths are still labored through your nose, but barely any oxygen seems to make it into your lungs with how the gag sits in your throat and how your heartbeat throbs in your jugular, right against the collar, further tightening your neck. Your head is really spinning now, as does the room, seemingly. You're almost glad you're bound the way you are.

But despite the warming feeling of your orgasm, there's something cold sitting deep in your guts. Did you even have permission to come? You can't remember Mistress mentioning anything like that. But then again, she did just praise you for it, didn't she? It's a strange fear that overcomes you, it doesn't really make sense, it's just a feeling, a distant memory of... pain? Of disappointment and shame? Whatever it is, it makes you furrow your brows under the blindfold as new tears seep into the fabric.

Suddenly you feel a pair of hands on your head, someone unfastens the blindfold, and as soon as it's gone, you blink helplessly into the light projected at you. Another light flashes next to you, and you realize you've been photographed. The thought makes it all worse, causing you to really start crying now. A vulnerable moment like this, forever captured and burned onto whatever medium she is using tonight.

You sniffle pathetically, and as you do, you realize that your nose starts stuffing up. Your eyes widen, your breaths hectic as panic grips your limbs. Not good. You look around, trying to find Mistress, but she's moved on to stand by your side focused on the fluttering of your stomach and the way your cunt glistens, her camera clicking away furiously. You see shadows all around you, and white-gloved hands reaching for you, still groping your soft flesh wherever they can.

You try to speak through your gag, but not even the muffled noises you create are loud enough to get through the hushed chatter around you. You struggle on the table, trying to get anyone's attention, while you get dizzier and dizzier, less and less oxygen making it through your nose. Your last resort is to make yourself gag, hoping that someone would notice and help you in your predicament.

Lightheaded as you are, you turn your head, try to strain your neck, force the dildo deeper into your constricted throat, but your muscles seem too lax to react, your gag reflex silenced like the rest of your body. You can barely move, you feel so weak.

Something moves against your twitching fingers, something warm and solid and slightly wet, and you see the shape of someone straddling your bound wrist, skin and soft fabric brushing your cold hand that's tight around the base of the dildo you're supposed to hold. You try to move it, but whoever assumes their special seat right now is more focused on their own enjoyment than your growing distress.

Tears burn in your eyes, saliva coats your cold skin, you feel heavy. The noises around you grow quieter until everything is just gone. No more lights, no more hands, no more lewd sounds echoing through the room. Just darkness. And no air.

1 🎀 2 🎀 3 🎀 4

End notes: So, uh, sorry? I don't know where this vision came from. My mind is deep and dirty, as you know. I hope the night of sinful sensations, tantalizing touches, unknown urges and frivolous fun (aka STUF²... I feel so clever XD) didn't traumatize you too much, because, uh, the next chapter may be even worse. And don't worry, we're getting to the wlw smut soon enough, I promise! (Oh, and Reader is fine, of course!)

Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Saturday!

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

[lexkent]

clex fic rec part 2:

The Season by Lenore (2,741 words) summary: Clark runs into Lex at a charity event, and it’s the season of forgiveness.

words with friends by spqr (6,811 words) summary: Lex, the letter begins. I’m sorry, but if you’re reading this, it means I’m dead.

Day of the Crockpot by sabershadowkat (912 words) summary: A moment of surreal clarity.

Complicity by rivkat (4,815 words) summary: Who are you going to believe--me or your own eyes?

In Another Life by Bitsie38 (2,189 words) summary: Years ago, Clark Kent and Lex Luthor were best friends. Now, they are the bitterest of enemies. During yet another Justice League event involving parallel universes, Clark meets a very different Lex Luthor.

The Color of Accord by Lenore (1,499 words) summary: Clark loses his powers and finds Lex.

Golden Rule by rivkat (13,204 words) summary: Clark doesn't make the same mistake twice.

Red String by thehoyden (1,031 words) summary: Dish gloves, destiny, and weird answering machine messages: one of these is not like the others.

Making Things Right by Tallihensia (5,475 words) summary: After Lex comes back from Belle Reve, Clark can't forget. Lex has forgotten, but Clark remembers and it's tearing him apart.

The Plan by Lenore (1,368 words) summary: The rift isn’t exactly what it seems.

A Handful of Dust by seperis (47,059 words) summary: At the end of the world, Lex can't stop running.

Secrets, Lies, and Misunderstandings by mahaliem summary: "In the hall outside Clark's dorm room, Lex slowly backed away without knocking, his mind awhirl with what he'd just heard. Clark Kent was gay."

Red Tape by Lenore (16,262 words) summary: Clark’s illegal, and Lex makes him a green card proposal.

Kryptonite Suit by cecilylee (3,000 words) summary: Even when he's a lying son of a bitch, Clark is a hero.

The Journey Back by Tallihensia (15,555 words) summary: Lex wakes up to a future that is very different from the one he thought he would have. Why is he fighting Superman, and who is Lex Luthor?

Second Chances by Dolimir (4,958 words) summary: Written for the Harlequin Week Challenge. Prompt chosen: The Greek Tycoon's Unwilling Wife: Recuperating on his private Greek island after a car crash, Andreas Petrakos had no memory of the previous year. The last thing he remembered was his passionate affair with beautiful Rebecca Ainsworth...when, actually, she was his wife! 

Long Time Coming by BewareTheIdes15 (14,685 words) summary: “Yes, I’m in love with you,” Lex says, like he’s explaining that the Earth is round; like this is some baseline, inalienable fact that’s not irretrievably reorganizing Clark’s existence. “I’ve never seen any reason for that to be an impediment to our friendship.”

Red Sky at Night by Tallihensia (5,347 words) summary: Clark goes looking for Lex. He finds him in the heart of Kal's former territory, and old instincts rule for both of them.

Therefore I Am by PL Nunn summary: Lex Luthor wakes up with a few holes in his memory and a very disconcerting discovery.

I Can't Believe It's Not Butter by laceymcbain (8,849 words) summary: "Lex, how exactly did you get your head stuck in the banister?"

Stranded by PL Nunn summary: Takes up where season 7 left off, with the sky falling down on Lex and Clark after the final confrontation at the Fortress of Solitude. (WIP. leaves off on a cliffhanger. worth it.)

You Can Call Me Al by Lenore (56,578 words) summary: Lex gets lost, and Clark claims him. An AU a la the movie “Overboard.”

Twilight's Secrets by Tallihensia (8,677 words) summary: Lex is getting divorced again. Superman stops by and the two have a long overdue conversation.

Smallville Throupleverse by CarpeDiemForLife (22,088 words) summary: A series of episode tags that weave a slowburn Clark/Lana/Lex relationship into the background of the show. 

While They Do Dream Things True by thirteenthmoon (6,610 words) summary: Lex falls under the effects of the Black Mercy plant, and dreams up a reality where he and Clark are married. Clark has to travel into his dreams to break him out of it.

May Day by Tallihensia (9,388 words) summary: For fifteen years, Lex has sent Clark flowers on May 1, even when they've been enemies. This year, though, was different. What happened to Lex, and why didn't Clark get any flowers this year?

Reciprocation, Give and Take, Quality Time, and Emergence by PL Nunn summary: When Lex inadvertently discovers Clark's powers a great deal of buried emotion bubbles to the surface on both their parts. Trust issues abound.

Switch: A Comedy of Terrors by rivkat (35,185 words) summary: Plot rocks lead Mind to forget where it put Brain. Wackiness ensues.

Unshatter by Lenore (5,856 words) summary: Rescue. Finally.

Eavesdropping by LadyRa (7,460 words) summary: Jonathan gets a wake-up call about Lex.

Once again, please feel welcome to message me if you’d like content warnings on any specific fic. There's some dark content here and not everything is tagged.

clex fic part 1

[exitvelocities]

2023-2024 cdramas year in review

i'm borrowing this idea from thai bl tumblr, but with less fun categories because i'm tired. i'm including shows from this year and last year since i mainly watched a mixture of the two in 2024.

tagging whoever wants to do it!

overall favorite show (2024): fangs of fortune it's gorgeous, i love the characters, and it's got one of the most shippable poly casts i've seen in basically ever.

overall favorite show (2023): mysterious lotus casebook i actually did watch this one last year and i liked it, but it wasn't until i rewatched it again in 2024 that i lost my mind over it.

favorite character: di feisheng from mysterious lotus casebook my love my darling my heart. i adore him with every fiber of my being. i honestly never really noticed xiao shunyao too much before this but he's sure got my attention now.

favorite character runner up: pei sijing from fangs of fortune sorry, you can't give me a badass kuudere archer and expect me to NOT be absolutely nuts about her. cheng xiao has also improved SO much from her early days acting and i think it's super neat that they incorporated her dancing background into her fight scenes.

favorite ship: dihua from mysterious lotus casebook see above about losing my mind. it's got everything i love in a ship: history, tension, longing, being totally obsessed with one another. i've written so much this year and most of it is for them.

favorite ship runner up: jingxiao from fangs of fortune GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS i love them and they love each other. i love how flirty wx is with psj and how sincere and open psj is with wx.

favorite canon ship: song mo/dou zhao in blossom this is still airing so i hope they don't fuck it up, but it's such a refreshing dynamic. they're really partners, and he's so gone of her.

favorite canon ship runner up: gu jiusi/li yunrui in destined i'm not really a fan of straight romance dramas but the strongest arc of this show is undoubtedly the first one, where they unwillingly get married and slowly fall in love. bjt is particularly charming in this role and song yi is lovely per usual.

favorite fl: dou zhao in blossom i love that she's careful and meticulous but not omnipotent. she's working at changing what she can but she's not a miracle worker. she feels warm and human and fallible in the best way. also mzy is gorgeous and i love her, fuck the haters.

favorite fl runner up: xue fangfei in the double she's batshit overpowered and it's still contrived in some instances but wu jinyan sells it enough that i just eat it up hahah.

favorite ml: li lianhua in mysterious lotus casebook his burnt out gifted kid ass is captivating. he has so many complex layers; it's a role that really gives cheng yi a chance to stretch his muscles and i think he did a great job.

favorite ml runner up: pu yiyong in oh no! here comes trouble he's a dumbass delinquent with a hereditary power to see spirits and release them, what's not to love.

favorite female supporting role: yang ying in a journey to love one of the best character arcs i've seen in a long, long time. i love her journey and where she ends up and i hope she gets everything she ever wants. iconic role for helan dou imo.

favorite female supporting role runner up: feng baobao in am nobody she doesn't understand human interaction and she loves knives and is good at them. she was made for me.

favorite male supporting role: yu shishan in journey to love breakout role for fang yilun, suave playboy with a heart of gold, faithful brother in arms. i adore him.

favorite male supporting role runner up: wang ye in i am nobody lazy, lowkey, and the best in the world. a good look for hmh also.

favorite antagonist: shen yurong from the double what a thoroughly unhinged man. i particularly loved the middle section of the show and the back and forth between him and xff. i wanted him to take a different path, but he couldn't.

favorite antagonist runner up: li lun from fangs of fortune oh my beautiful, bitter, lovelorn tree demon. he's like catnip for me.

favorite antagonist honorable mention: gong shangjue from my journey to you so intense, so brooding, so murderous.

bonus 2023 thai show section

favorite overall show: moonlight chicken i just really loved this show. i like both gemfourth and earthmix and while i did not enjoy the bit of firstkhao pandering at the end, i thought it was a generally thoughtful exploration of human foibles.

favorite cast: my school president they're adorable and i love them. this is overall such a fun, feel good show with great music. tinngun are wonderful and so are the secondary couples. special shoutout to babygirl por's outfits.

most ridiculous sex scene: bed friend you know the one.

biggest disappointment: only friends i still haven't finished it. i'm just not invested in anything or anyone. i think part of it is that i don't really love the cast, out side of neo and mark. i do like first and khao but not really together, sadly.

[bbybhr]

What i enjoy

Summary:just old man logan finding comfort in an ordinary day with you and Laura...simply enjoying loving you

Warning: none really,

Tag: angst , comfort , domestic life

Oldman!logan who came home after a normal day at work, nothing out of ordinary the only remarkable thing about today was the cold weather but he got used to that so there's no mentioning it...after all he was two hundred years old and he learned what to expect from winter when he was a little boy,he's not thrilled about it though,he despise cold like a lot of other things

He puts the key into the keyhole and the click sound echoes in his heart...he loves to return home, one of the few things that he enjoys

He knocks of his dirty shoes and leans to pickup his "slippers" which you bought for him and Laura to match yours, of course he showed his protest by grunting and telling you "his way too old for this" or "what even is the purpose of this things?" But he secretly loves them...the feeling of having something on him that belongs to your soft little world, the feeling of reassurance that if someone sees you and him together it wouldn't be like he's some horror movies character that got into a frame of an animation about sugar and honey and bunny and yada yada...but it would be like a happy little family,so slippers also are some of the few things he enjoys

As he slowly approaches the living room he hears you and Laura giggling, he stops at the foyer looking at you two and the thick blanket you got on yourselves, he can not wait to get under that too, to hold you both close to him,to feels his two heart that aren't inside of his body but are far more important, he rather claw at his own chest and take that clock machine out than seeing you two sad or even at the very least a little discomfort, and yes he loves to be a part of that cuddle blanket city of his two princess but he also loves watching you laughing and stuffing your faces with popcorn...so he waits, waiting between two of his favourite activities is also one of the few things he enjoys

He takes the warm air of the house in his lounges with a deep breath,there's a delicious smell of food that you made and you and Laura agreed to don't touch it until logan comes home from work,he can feel his stomach turn in hunger for something other than his cheap liquor,for something that doesn't burn his throat but nourishes his stomach and heart at the same time...coming home to a warm meal is again one of the few thing he enjoys

He feels the warmth of the house cuddle his weary bones and body...His shoulders slowly tens down and he can feel a small smile on his face before pushing himself from the foyer and making his way towards the couch

"I'm watching you two for at least thirty minutes now, what if I was an intruder?do you have any survival sense?"

You and Laura jump from the surprise...it's the safety that a home and family brings after all,that's the reason Laura isn't as alert as she used to and logan doesn't feel upset about this, it brings out the fact that you two (and anyone else in the area) are sure that no one dares to disturb the safety and stillness of THE WOLVERINE'S House and he enjoys the reminder of the safety that his protection brings

It's after the dinner when Laura and you fell asleep in his arms while watching a fairytale bullshit, he closes his eyes and the golden light of the house shuts up before them,he can stay like this forever,he thinks...having his whole beautiful family is another thing he absolutely enjoys

but he knows you'll feel sore tomorrow you don't have the strong regenerate power as him and Laura, so he slowly gets up,with a delicacy and thoughtfulness he never thought he had in him so he wouldn't wake you two up,he turned off the TV before scooping up Laura and carrying her to her room and laying the puffy blanket on her (being a father is one of the things he never thought he would enjoy but now he can not figure out that how would life be without laura) than he makes his way to the living room again, he kneels beside the couch like a surrounded soldier and slowly Brings his hand to your face and brushes a strand of your hair with the tip of his finger like he's touching something sacred,he won't move his hand afterwards from your face just caressing your cheek at a gradual peace, how delicate, he thinks, how could you trust him with yourself, how could someone this fragile trust herself with a war machine...with a weapon...touching you with his blood stained hand is also one of his favourite thing to do

He picks you up in his arms without moving his gaze from your face like not looking at you even for a second it's a waste of time,beside he memorised the path to your room a long time ago so there's no point to look away anyway,

To know every path that ends to you is also one of the things he enjoy

He lays you on your bed with so much care like you would break if he doesn't treat you like a butterfly with fractured wings,he climbs on and lay behind you,one hand under his head so he could look at all of you with one glance,like a hunter looking at it's prey like he's sizing you up for his next meal,after a moment he wrap his other hand around your waist to pull you closer as if you're not close enough, never close enough actually, he wanted you under his skin if he could! he takes a deep breath in your hair and felt that familiar rush in his veins (that got to him since he got home) grow stronger,one more breath and his breath became shaky and his vision of the top of your hair became blurry,another inhale and he's taking shallow and rapid breath yet he's trying for dear life to be quiet, taking your scents one more time and he felt his cheeks became wet and something in his throat brook...that wall that he felt stronger in the moment of weakness,that brick fucking wall that made his breath hitch when he was alone when he didn't have you nor Laura, that very same wall that he tried every day to drink away...Well how do you know...looks like his chatter box doll with those beautiful eyes was the cure all the time...

"Where were you..."

He said under his breath more like how breeze whispers in the ear of a petal while passing by and he closed his eyes to surprisingly no nightmare...no feeling trapped...just the scent of your hair and your quiet little breath

There's few things that he finds interesting...lesser things he finds enjoyable...but they're all about you!

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

A Wish His Heart Made (Or Some Shit)

Prompt Day 20: Alone | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Escaping Hawkins, Starting a Whole Life on His Own

It's fucking cold. The asshole landlord never turns up the boiler enough to heat the entire building. Eddie bangs on the metal, the sound reverberating around the room, probably not doing anything other than fooling Eddie into feeling like he's doing something proactive to warm the place up.

The heat ain't coming upwards, not tonight, and Eddie knows he shouldn't have to wear gloves inside his own apartment, but that's where he's at presently.

Alone, on Christmas Eve. 

He had to work today, and so did Wayne, and it wasn't feasible for either of them to travel. It sucks. He got out of Hawkins, but there was a cost, and sometimes it feels pretty goddamn steep.

It's a shitty studio, in a shitty neighborhood, but it's his. He can afford it, barely, but that means he can stay away from Hawkins, and the townsfolk that nearly put his head on a pike. 

He's making coffee in an old, dirty maker he found at the thrift store that looks like shit but still works, when he hears pounding at the door. His rent is paid up, so either the landlord is pissed off about him banging on the radiator, or he's about to be murdered. 

Either way, both deadbolts are fastened, and he's not talking to anyone tonight. He's not in the mood. But the banging doesn't let up.

He approaches the door, gives it a thump with his fist, and yells, "What?!"

There's silence, then:

"Eddie? It's me. Us."

Eddie stills, "Steve?"

"And Robin," comes her voice, and his fingers barely work through the gloves and the cold, as he tries to twist the locks open.

It is Steve and Robin. 

Bags at their feet. 

"Merry Christmas," she says, and he nearly knocks her to the ground as he flies into her arms. She complains, but Steve doesn't, as he hugs him next.

It's a Christmas miracle. A wish his heart made, or some shit. 

He was lonely, and he manifested them out of thin air.

So. Eddie lets them into his studio that barely had room for one, let alone three. But they can make it work for a few nights.

Only, what was at first a few nights, has turned into months. Now, it's summer in the city, and they're worried about the heat in the opposite way.

His bed is in a small room that's not private at all. The pass-through cut into the wall wasn't an issue when he lived alone, but now it shows that this is a fucking small apartment. His bed is butted up to the wall, and they've moved the couch that Robin sleeps on the other side, so there's just a framed hole separating them.

Eddie and Steve share custody of the bed, just usually not at the same time. Robin deemed them too gross, too boy, to share with, and they can't afford the extra laundry to change sheets every time one of them sleeps in it.

Eddie doesn't mind crawling into sheets that have the lingering smell of Steve clinging to them. His crush, something he's tried to tamp down deep, has only grown since they've moved in.

Robin's on the couch, and Steve's sitting on the inside edge of Eddie's bed, both of them hanging towards each other in the open frame, as if they haven't seen each other in a million years. It's cute. He likes them being around, he really does. They're hardly ever all here together, so they've made the tight quarters work. Sure, sometimes Steve shaves while Eddie showers to both be on time, but that's unusual. Tonight, however, they're all home at once, and Eddie is trying to fall asleep with the warmth of Steve Harrington far, far too close as they share the bed. 

Steve's hand is on Eddie's thigh, and it feels like he's being ignited.

Eddie wakes up sweaty. Steve's laying across him, leg pinning him to the mattress. This isn't okay. This is torture, having Steve's warm breath hitting his neck. Eddie has to wiggle loose, get out from under him, but Steve's heavier than he looks. Solid, as their bare skin is glued together by sweat. 

Jesus H. Christ.

He died in the Upside Down. He's sure of it now. This isn't real life. No way. Steve Harrington would never be plastered to him in bed in any other scenario.

"Steve," Eddie says, "it's too hot."

Not that there's any place for him to go, and the only place he moves is closer. Eddie rests his hand against Steve's back. 

Steve stirs, and sits up looking through the wall, "Robin's gone. I can move to the couch."

Robin will be pissed off, but Steve's already climbing through the hole in the wall, his ass in Eddie's face before falling onto her couch with a thud. 

He pops back up, and looks at Eddie, "So, this is what Robin sees."

Eddie laughs, and leans against his side of the wall, elbow propped up, "It's like visiting a foreign land, huh?"

"Little bit," Steve answers, and smiles. They're still close, even with half of a wall between them. 

Eddie wants to say something, do something, but he doesn't want Steve to leave. He doesn't want to be all alone again. 

"I'm happy we're here," Steve says, and Eddie smiles, leaning closer.

"I'm happy you're here, too."

Steve lays his hand on Eddie's arm, and Eddie looks down at it. Hoping it means something. 

Eddie covers Steve's hand, and Steve grins, leaning towards him. His lips barely grazing Eddie's, like he's giving him an out, an easy exit, if he wants one.  

Eddie doesn't want an out, but it seems ridiculous that they're doing this now, a wall between them, but it feels easier. 

Steve moves to his knees, is basically hanging through Eddie's side of the window, hand tangled in Eddie's hair, kissing him like he's wanted to do it for ages.

Maybe he has. That'd make two of 'em.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

Notes: I realized I wrote the radiator banging into two different prompts this year, lol, my brain must be calling out for me to watch Beaches, I guess.

[shepherds-of-haven]

Hi! I noticed you mentioning that tumblr sometimes doesn't show you the shepherd fan art, fics and all when you serach it. Idk if you know but you can follow tags, like shepherds of haven, shoh fanart, chase trinaeste and all the relevent ones. It should show you or at least increase the chances of showing them on your dashbord when they are posted. I hope this is helpful, if not, sorry! Please ignore! Love your work <3

Hi, thanks for the tip! I do follow all of the tags that you noted, but I'm either not on Tumblr enough to see them on my dash (I'm probably actively browsing for less than half an hour a day) or things get crowded out by other blogs/tags/posts, or both, which is why I try to use the search to make sure I'm not missing things every once in a while, when I can! Unfortunately many of those tags are then inundated with my own posts when using the site search function, lol, but even then, I've noticed that some posts don't show up for me at random times, especially if I'm using the new Patio feature. Hellsite hours! But I do my best every few weeks/once a month when I remember to! Thanks for looking out and for your kind words! :) <3

[chimggukchim]

https://www.tumblr.com/chimggukchim/770049627903901696/but-it-will-not-and-cannot-be-what-it-was-before?source=share

First thing first i saw another anon say this anon is a tkkr who's sneaking in jkk space when i can very well tell anon is just a jkkr who has seen difference in jikook over the chapt2 era. Just because one jkkr doesn't agree with another doesn't mean they HAVE to be from another ship. And Tkkrs don't talk about jkk the way anon talked because it's hard for Tkkrs to even address the things jkk did together Especially GCFT so anon is definitely not a tkkr.

Second idk in which spaces YOU were because the whole jikook tag was clogged with very much negativity during AYS Especially after 1st,2nd ep because everyone was Feeling the difference in the way jk talked to anon because we have never seen them bicker this much after their debut self. over these past few yrs we have seen them very much be sweet towards e/o and not really bicker atleast not to the level of AYS and it was maybe because we never had full hrs of just jkk only so we're seeing their raw self so maybe jkk have been this way towards e/o for long time but we just never got to witness it before and hence why it was kinda shocking for many jkkrs and yes there was very much negativity. talking about how jk said "Jimin is dead" and laughed when jm was sick because some jkkrs didn't like that because they haven't seen jk talk like that etc etc. If you need @ of the blogs who's seen this negativity ask me and I'll definitely provide it in next ask (I'm not doing in this one because I don't wanna disclose their @ to other anons who might attack them).

Yes the 1st ep looked awkward maybe because they haven't hangout together for some time and when they're doing they're in front of cam so they don't know how to act, It happens when you're meeting s/o after some time and haven't exactly planned things you're doing or you haven't thought it thoroughly. They Started loosening up at the end of 2nd ep. And if anyone talks about their physical closeness as why would they be close like that when they are awkward then ITS taekook is good example of that why or how.

anon didn't lie when they said that jk didn't bother showing up for jm anywhere because that's true. he was at hybe for CK most probably saw jm is practicing stopped there and went home exactly like how he showed up at one of hobi's filming during JITB because the set was in hybe. That time jm specifically asked jk to come to show support to him more and jungkook didn't come again. we saw jm's practice BB and jk wasn't there again and when jk asked when was jm's next music show jm also told him that jk has already seen his dance during practice so it's normal to assume the practice was last one. yes he might have came for another practice but given we haven't seen I'll chose not to make up that "he came to the practice again" because if everyone just start assuming things with nothing to back up there's no difference them and Tkkrs.You remembered what jm said what during serendipity recording then how did you forgot what jm said During festa 2022 when jk was whinning about jm not showing him his songs along with other members?? let me tell you jm said "Well i told you, asked you all to come and see me work" so didn't jm give open invitation here to ALL members including jk? so did he go or not? i guess not if we go by the whinning he was doing over jm not showing him his song, we have also seen jk watching jm doing filter practice so I'm sure coming again for jm's other practices or MV sets to "show support" shouldn't be so hard given jk went to dream movie premiere, and a musical of tae's frnds to show support or wtv it was. plus given how jk traveled to Hawaii when tae said he missed jk so the hybe building (hobi saw jm there working as well so the pdogg house wasn't the only place jm worked) and before you wonder how new i am it's my 5th year in the Fandom. not as old as you but old enough to have known all of their contents.

Jimin talked about him talking with jk about music for hrs and said that he'd tell jk what he learned so i think he was talking about the time AFTER they shot in NYC for AYS. jm talked about going to vocal lessons when he was working on muse(in his live) so I'm assuming he talked with jk about music after NYC trip where he also heard "Who" for the very first time. my personal assumption which I'm pretty sure of is that jk wasn't aware of what's going on with jm when he was working on FACE and the live jk did after face dropped was him just catching up with what's jm doing. I mean he didn't even know when jm was doing his music shows etc etc. my personal assumption tho.

There's no need for jkk to lie to us and say "you didn't call me when i was free and i didn't call you when u were free" because they simply could have not said anything rather than lying. I'm definitely not a tkkr who spin their words to fit my narative so I'll take things as it is said to us when I don't see any reason for them to lie to us.

Yes having e/o in military is a comfort for them but I'll ask u if u get an option of enlisting alone OR u can Enlist with ur friend whom you know for a decade now what option would u chose? won't u wanna go with ur frnd if U actually have an option? given the status they have it's obvious more comfort for them that they have their frnd with them so I believe any normal human would chose to go with their frnd than alone with given option. and jkk do have visible tattoes so they obviously have limited options that don't mean they have to go with e/o BUT why not go with ur frnd than go alone? it's very natural doens't have to be "they can't live w/o e/o".

And just like Taekook changed jikook changed as well. many have hard time beliveing it but that's what how atleast some of us see it. have some points to add for this topic as why but it's already too long so I'll stop.

Thank you, anon, for the oh so detailed read.

And for also proving my point that some people on here actually believe that the only times jikook have ever interacted in their entire lives is when they film content for us.

Bravo!

I was going to just leave it at that but I've got some time so why not write more?

Anon not being a tkkr? Yeah, okay. It is true that not all jikookers have the same opinion. Some support, some simply ship and can become very insecure because they don't actually see jikook as two actual people in an actual relationship. But I actually have working braincells and can very easily spot tkkr rhetoric as opposed to insecure jikooker rhetoric. Anon was a tkkr clearly trying to gaslight. I can actually point out very specific phrases used if you'd like.

Jikook have never bickered before AYS? Really?! REALLY?! You stated you're five years into this fandom so my assumption is your consumption of content begins at 2019. Because there is NO WAY that anyone could have seen jikook interactions since 2013, and claimed they have only ever been 'lovey-dovey'.

If there was any awkwardness at the very beginning of filming (which I still have yet to see), do you know why? It's because Jimin and Jungkook DIDN'T HAVE A CLUE WHAT THEY WERE FILMING! They didn't even have a frigging name for the show! To the point that they, along with the staff said on multiple occasions that they didn't even know if this even would be released. Not because they were awkward with each other but because they were just going with the flow for the first time. And as entertainers, they needed to feel out the situation to provide content for us. Guess what? That takes a bit of time.

And your whole essay on JK not being there for Jimin? I'm not even going to go into detail because clearly the only time Jimin and Jungkook interact is when a camera is rolling.

Finally the military thing. You know what would have been more comforting than each other? Being assigned to an area that wasn't the most dangerous and active. And visible tattoos have nothing to do with anything as a lot of persons have posted about. It may have barred them from a select few, but certainly not all other avenues. And Jungkook could have just as easily chosen Taehyung to enlist with. But he didn't. And I hardly think he tossed a coin or that Jimin was the second option. The apparently indigestible fact remains that jikook actively chose each other.

You claim that jikook changed, just like Taekook, and that's just how some of 'you' see it. Fine. Everyone's entitled to their opinion. And I would actually genuinely be interested in those 'whys' you mentioned.

But please, when you do, make sure you can clearly reference from the beginning.

Because I can also do that to show how jikook's relationship has changed over the years. Only, it's not going to be the change you see.

[starrieangel]

🧸🩷 Mouthwashing Age Regression Headcanons 🩷🧸

This is uber self induglent, but I also think it's really cute so I thought I'd post! ♡ Not proofread lol

Features: Curly x Reader, Anya x Reader, Daisuke x Reader, Jimmy x Reader

Tags: Fluff, Age Regressor Curly, Age Regressor Anya, Carer Daisuke, Carer Jimmy, Nice!Jimmy AU, Mini Fic

Rb's appreciated! ♡

Curly is a little ♡ He regresses to ages 5-12, so he is a kiddo or a middle depending on the day ♡ He only regresses when he needs to unwind, but I think he would really thrive from having the care and praise of a carer... and how can you not want to be his carer..?! He is literally the most perfect and cute and sweet little boy ever ♡♡♡ (My Curly bias is showing)

Anya is a flip, but she's a big carer lean. She likes being a carer because... well, she has a caring personality! I can see her as a regressor also because I think she actually had a good childhood and wants to relive that childlike wonder ♡ Being a grown up is depressing and disappointing at times, so it would be nice for her to have that space to regress and go to calmer and simpler times!

Daisuke is 100% a caregiver. I just feel like he desperately wants to be a big brother, or to have someone younger than him look up to him. (Even if he doesn't have the experience himself to teach them very many things XD) I just think he would thrive off of a little's love ♡ Like when you hug him tight and look up into his eyes like he hangs the stars in the sky, I just think he would melt ♡♡♡

Jimmy is also 100% a caregiver, though I can also see him as maybe a trauma regressor/involuntary regressor. (He definitely had a bad childhood..) I think he would like having a little because having someone to take care of would make him feel so important ♡ It also makes him feel better about himself as a person, because surely he's not so bad if a cute precious thing like you loves him and trusts him this much??

Bonus: Daisuke babysitting Anya is the cutest idea ever, I don't even care that it's OOC 😭

Thanks for reading! LMK what you think in the replies! I love reading people's comments hehe ♡♡

[killer-blowmybrain]

okay artists, I need your help RIGHT NOW !!!

okay so giving a little context, I have a friend and he has a creation, a sans. but for these days he's been a little sad because he thinks that his character is not good enough for people to like him.... SO

i decided to make something that at the same time can be fun for me and YOU ! :DD

so let's start with how he looks AND some informations!

Here we have clous sans, he's just a little (psychopath) guy and his weapon that's literally a chainsaw!

(NO! he doesn't have paws. he has hands it's just my art style that's fucked up.)

yes, you can put whatever you want on the chainsaw! you can put stickers, put paint on it, literally whatevr u want:PP

and as you can see, he has Anntenas, that shows his emotions with different colors

i made something to try to help y'all with this part:))

I hope this help you-

And of course, have fun! You can make everything with him, LIKE LITERALLY EVERYTHING-

you can make him hanging out with your oc, making some basic daily thing or whatever your brain tells you to do!!! be free:DD

idc if it's a meme, if it's a gore drawing, it stills something that I will appreciate with all my love<3

AND I BEG U TO TAG ME WHEN DRAWING HIM LIKE PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS PL-

i really hope to see your drawing, see ya!!

@karineverse I'm gonna tag u because you said you would do something like this lol-

[punctuated-equilibrium]

(Aw, thanks for the tag, friend. I hope I am doing this right...)

Last Song: "Stars Begin to Fall" by Jake Blount

Favorite Color: Sunflower Yellow

Last Book: "The Tainted Cup" by Robert Jackson Bennett (HIGHLY recommend if you like immersive gay fantasy)

Last Movie: "The Wild Robot"

Last TV Show: Queer Eye

Sweet/Savory/Spicy: YES!

Last Thing I Googled: 2012 TMNT episode guide, Season 5

Current Obsession: homemade fruit leather (I mean, other than TMNT... I don't think I can call TMNT a 'current' obsession since it doesn't feel at all temporary.

Things I'm Looking Forward To: Setting up the telescope I got for my nephews to try to see Saturn's rings

No pressure tag: @mathmusic8

Thanks for the tag @yellowhollyhock 💛

Last Song: "Grunky Scripples" by Jazz Emu and Stacy Ryan

Favorite Color: Hazel! Or any green really

Last Book: 100 Essential Things You Didn't Know You Didn't Know: Math Explains Your World by John D. Barrow

Last Movie: Pacific Rim

Last TV Show: Transformers: Rescue Bots

Sweet/Savory/Spicy: Sweet

Last Thing I Googled: shneeky phase lyrics

Current Obsession: Transformers

Things I’m Looking Forward To: My music students are presenting their Christmas songs this Sunday. I'm very excited for them!

no pressure tags

@languajix @cadoodledoodleydoo @belleyells @lycanthropiclesbians @pumpkinpie59