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caelum-in-the-avatarverse · 4 months

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Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.

So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.

Lurkers really are great, tho

I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.

Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.

The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.

Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.

There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.

I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available.

I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.

I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.

So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.

But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.

I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.

Should we gatekeep fandom?

I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--

A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.

That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.

See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.

So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.

The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.

And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”

Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.

Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.

And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.

However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community.

I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.

And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company?

And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)

But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.

Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.

Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.

Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists.

While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:

[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom

OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]

“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.

I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.

It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits.

So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.

And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.

So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.

Think of it like a garden gate

When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.

The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people.

Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it.

Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.

My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.

But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.

I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.

Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.

And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.

Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.

There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.

#ao3 #lore.fm #fanfiction #fandom history #gift economy #caelum rambles

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tteokdoroki · 8 months

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THIRD TIME'S A CHARM - kento nanami.

✩ — about. “my coworker is a wonderful person. they’re kind and sweet. they care a lot about others. recently, i’ve been having some…less than platonic feelings for them and i don’t know how to handle it." kento nanami never cared for workplace shenanigans. he never took his mind off of work. and he never thought he would develop feelings for his coworker, nor expect for them to feel the same way about him. what happens when he misses your three attempts to ask him out? perhaps reddit will know... ( 5.5K )

✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, angst, happy ending - video banner ! AITA-verse!au, office romance!au, mutual pinining, cluelessness, misunderstandings, christmas time, mentions of alcohol, office worker!nanami, afab!reader.

✩ — things to note. happy monday everyone, i have for you yet another fic to go with my gojo one! this story was written as a gift for @antizenin bc i love her so bad !! can be read as a stand-alone but does make refrences to my AITA gojo fic !! thank you to @todorosie for beta reading! hope you enjoy beloveds <3 - series m.list ⋆ m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

my coworker is a wonderful person. they’re kind and sweet. they care a lot about others. recently, i’ve been having some…less than platonic feelings for them and i don’t know how to handle it. my chest feels tight when they’re away and whenever they’re nearby my heart beats so fast i feel like i might pass. it would be a pleasure to date them or to just stand by them… there’s only one problem. i’m not usually the type of guy who engages in workplace shenanigans, i hardly know how to interact with people outside of the confines of my work. my coworker has made a few advances, at least i think they have. i don’t know how to respond or whether or not i’m over-thinking this. do they even like me? is it all in my head? i could really do with some advice… how should i go about this and telling them how i feel? TLDR: i have a crush on my coworker but i can’t, for the life of me, tell if they like me back.

you’ve always liked your co-worker, kento nanami.

to those who don’t know him, he appears quite stoic and blunt, cold even. like the crisp weather at the start of winter, air that’s sharp and bites unpleasantly at your nose. nanami tends to act the same towards those he holds no affections for, blocking them out as if he were a fortress made of stone.

one may even paint a picture of kento nanami as a lone wolf — callous and uninterested in the buzz of the office. he stays late, works long hours, never engages with the gossip on your floor after work.

that’s only the beginning of how the world sees your blonde co-worker.

but you have come to know nanami, in your short time working for Gojo Corporations. you’ve not been there very long, still adapting to the office culture and your brand new line of work, but in the few months that you have been finding your equilibrium in the office — you’ve gotten used to nanami’s demeanour, his ethic, his lifestyle. you’ve come to appreciate it, and him.

the man works hard, with a quiet confidence about him that puts your mind at ease — a quality you only wished that you had. it makes you curious, how little he seems to care about what it is Gojo Corp actually does but how much of his time he puts into it and how much he cares for the people around him too. you’ve learned, by taking the desk to nanami’s left, that he’d risen pretty quickly in the company, he begrudgingly seems to be gojo’s (your boss’) favourite employee and that he’s surprisingly good at what he does for someone who hates it so much.

he presents at meetings and debfriefs calmly, always gets through his tasks with an air of rationale and when you’d first started…nanami was kind, gently leading you through your own work as if he’d taken your hand in his and was guiding you to some place warmer — away from the chill of your nerves and self-doubt. in his own way, he cared. nanami was not as cold as one might think.

there’s so much more to him than what meets the average human eye. ever since joining the company — you found yourself curious, wanting to know everything about him. what drives him, what pisses him off, where he wants to go and who he wants to be. beneath his calm, collected and commanding aura there is a man whose heart holds many secrets. a man you want to know… and might even want to be with.

the very thought of being with nanami makes you shy where you wish that you weren’t. maybe then, you could tell the blonde office man how handsome you thought he looked while concentrating on filing reports and paperwork. perhaps you could then steel your nerves and stop the shake in your voice while telling him how much you like the low dip in his own when he explains KPIs and stock markets to you. not to mention how hard he works on keeping his patience with not just you… but the interns megumi, nobara and yuuji as well (yuuji was the brother of someone your boss new very well back in college, apparently). the ways in which he’s taken the young trio under your wing, it’s a wonder you haven’t had baby fever yet.

nanami even extends the same grace to your man-child of a boss, he wouldn’t have stayed working for Gojo Corp and for satoru gojo if he didn’t. in some ways, they were like a little family at the company, and nanami was the responsible one always picking up gojo’s messes and holding the others together.

especially on days when gojo came into work emotional over developments in his ex’s new life.

still, nanami stayed.

and your crush on him bloomed like a light frost spreading across the double-glazed glass of a window.

you felt your heartbeat speed up whenever nanami was close by and you could smell the ginger and cinnamon on him, not to mention, the hairs on the back of your neck would stand whenever your hands brushed over one another’s. nanami was warm on the inside, you knew that — he liked his interns, he cared for gojo especially when the days were tough (like when he holed himself up in his office after finding out his ex was getting engaged). he even brought lunch for the office floor. mostly soup for haibara whenever he got sick.

you knew deep down that nanami was soft and loving — you felt that he needed love too. you wanted to be the one to give it to him, even if it was the last thing you did.

ATTEMPT #ONE - THE CHRISTMAS PARTY.

satoru gojo’s office holiday parties were far from what was considered appropriate for the workplace.

with thousand dollar bottles of booze and jars of caviar dotted about the main conference room — it was hard for anyone not to be in high spirits. the notes of cheery christmas carols drift through your ears and the tinsel that your boss had thrown over your shoulders scratches at your neck uncomfortably. you’re not one for buzzing celebrations like this, they’re too noisy and loud, but gojo has made you promise to attend this year's party… and he was oddly convincing for a manager this unserious.

ultimately, you were glad that you’d decided to come because while being spoiled by your boss was all good and fun — it provided you with the perfect social setting and opportunity to speak to your longtime crush, nanami.

like you, he wasn’t a fan of forced mingling in the office, and had no interest in consoling his tipsy manager who was currently crying up a storm into one of his poor intern’s shoulders. the blonde office man kept to himself, tucked away by the bright lights of the christmas tree as he nursed a piping hot coffee — he wouldn’t be getting drunk on company time.

you manage to break away from conversing with shoko and make your way over to the latter co-worker, swallowing down your nerves with a swig of the moscato satoru had so generously picked out for you — knowing that you liked the sweeter stuff and that it would probably loosen your lips enough for you to get this over with (he and those interns were fully aware of how much you admired kento nanami). sliding up beside the man, your long, embroided skirts swish against his ankles — only serving to pull his attention away from his work phone and onto you.

taking a sip of your drink to warm yourself up with liquid courage and break the ice — you hum, quietly. “any plans for the holidays, kento?” you ask him simply, and though your deep and gorgeous brown eyes stay trained on the bubbles in your glass — you can feel kento’s own chocolatey pair land on the side of your face. whether they’re scrutinising you or admiring you, you can’t actually tell.

if you were looking, you’d be able to see the way that the sharp edges of kento’s usual expression soften across his face — the straight line of his lips are parted, his furrowed brows becomes relax and his posture no longer ridged, but instead, at ease. if you were looking you’d know that out of all of his co-workers (aside from the interns), kento is most comfortable around you. he find your meek and cautious demeanour adorable and the way that you sometimes awkwardly flutter around him in conversations is cute.

“not much, just working.” he responds quickly and shortly. to anyone else, they would have taken nanami’s reply as cold and callous, but you? you smile softly, glad that he’s even taking part in your small talk.

you’ve always been a little quieter than most colleagues at Gojo Corp, but you’ve always tried your hardest to make connections and bring the group together. you care for the interns so deeply, helping them to learn from your initial mistakes at the organisation and to do better. he likes that you’re good company, knowing just the right things to ask and when, allowing for comfortable silences when no one in the team feels like talking.

nanami likes you.

and perhaps that’s what makes him awkward around you as well, the very fact that he can’t find fault in you — that you’re too sweet and kind and gentle to complain about like he would with nagging gojo. what does he say to someone as wonderful as you?

he doesn’t want the moment to end, however. “how about you?”

the blonde says your name softly, as though he’s testing it out on his tongue — and you can’t help the warmth that blooms like a spring rose in your chest at the honeysuckle sound. you’re hot all over and you’re sure it’s not the alcohol.

“f-family!” you squeak shyly, voice high pitched as you fend off excitement — having nanami elaborate on your conversations isn’t a usual occurrence. coughing, you take a sip of your drink and knock it down a notch. not that kento would want you to, since he finds your enthusiasm to chat with him so endearing. “i have family…coming. o-over the break! flying in from abroad, so it’s going to be special.” the blonde’s brow raises with interest, and you latch onto the opportunity to speak with him further, basking in your quiet moment together. “i’m not usually one to cook, but my mother and i will be handling dinner together! so it’ll be a mix of all sorts of foods. traditional and from our home country too.”

nanami slips his work phone away in order to give you his full attention. “that sounds…wonderful,” he settles on saying. he wonders what your family is like, if they’re as shy and endearing as you or louder like that of the dynamics at the office. he imagines you surrounded by love, by laughter and warmth… and can’t help but yearn for the same. “i do miss home cooking, christmas in new york isn’t quite the same as japan.”

“t-then you’re welcome to spend christmas with us!” you blurt before your mind can even process what you’ve said. now you really must be drunk, or tipsy at the very least. who just invites their coworkers over to their house without getting to know them first. “we’ll have more than enough to fix you a plate…if you’d like,” despite your overexcited blunder, you remain hopeful that nanami will accept your invitation or at least get the hint. that you want to know him better and spend more time with him.

but nanami doesn’t take the hint, he can’t seem to figure out why you’d want to spend time with him outside of work, and so, puts up a respectful boundary. nanami smiles and puts down the coffee he’d been drinking. “i wouldn’t want to impose on your time with family.”

you frown, the stacked bricks of your excitement coming tumbling down. “kento that’s not what i meant—“

“look!” gojo cuts in, slurring from across the room as he points a shaky finger at the two of you by the tree. “they’re standin’ un’da the mistletoe!”

both yourself and nanami look up in disbelief to find yourselves standing under calculatedly placed mistletoe — no doubt due to the meddling of your boss. though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to kiss nanami, it was more of question as to whether or not he wanted to kiss you.

“gojo, you’re drunk. and i really should be getting back to work.” kento insists, clearing his throat and immediately looking away from you with a bashful blush. you’re perfect, and darling, and to kiss you really would make kento’s day…but he’d never want to make you uncomfortable or put you on the spot like this. “i have budget reports for your meeting in a few hours.”

“fuck the reports, don’t you wanna kiss the pretty lady?” nanami looks to you, shying away from the conversation and squirming under the sudden attention of the office party-goers. “i wouldn’t want to make her uncomfortable.”

“i-i wouldn’t be.” comes your hushed whisper.

nanami coughs to clear his throat, flustered by you. “are you sure?”

having had enough of your back and forth, dancing around one another like two teenagers confessing to each other on white day — gojo steps in, forcing his drunk yet authoritarian hand. “come on nanamin,” the white haired man drawls impatiently. “if you don’t kiss her! i will!”

“no!” you and nanami bark adamantly in unison — causing gojo to smirk and stagger happily while megumi and yuuji hold him up.

“then go ahead and kiss. or i’ll have to fire you.”

the idea of losing your job over a trivial christmas tradition is enough to spook you into agreeing. that and you couldn’t imagine kissing satoru gojo… the thought makes you gag to yourself. “fine,” nanami grunts before looking to and addressing you next, “do you mind?”

you nod once, breath shaky. “it’s okay.”

“where are you most comfortable being kissed?”

“um, i haven’t… i’ve not had my first yet so…”

“ah, i see. i won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable then.” hearing the news makes something weird… stir within the blonde’s firm chest. being your first kiss, his co-worker’s first kiss is an appealing thought — almost a little twisted and selfish for him. to have that honour, to be the one you would give it to, makes his head spin.

gojo cute through his train of thought, however. “god, would you too hurry it up!”

nanami rolls his eyes at his boss (which would have gotten anyone else fired.) but let’s the corners of his pink lips quirk up into a subtle smile directed at you, and only you. cautiously, he leans down as though not to spook you like a deer in the woods, and takes your hand in his larger and more calloused one. “sorry about this.” he hums quietly, the rough pad of his thumbs traversing through the ridges of your knuckles.

“i-it’s fine.” you repeat your earlier sentiment, holding your burning breath as kento drags the back of your hand up to his lips. dark brown eyes meet even darker ones — your gentle gazes meeting in the middle as the tensions rise within the conference room. your entire body melts like butter in a pan and your heart bursts out your chest with the crescendo of the christmas music in the background when kento nanami presses a soft chaste kiss to the back of your hand.

your kiss under the mistletoe.

once he breaks eye contact and snaps out of it — nanami is quick to announce is departure, covering up his flustered expression. “now, i really must be getting back to work. thank you for the party gojo, kids,” he nods at you softly with an utterance of your name and leaves not long after, leaving you with a flurry of butterflies in your tummy.

leaving you a sheepish, warm mess because while you had intended to ask nanami out and failed, you still managed to get somewhat of a kiss.

you press your hand to your lips, feeling the warmth of kento’s lips embedded into the skin there. somehow, you find it within yourself to ignore gojo's whine for a proper mistletoe liplock in the background — choosing to focus on the lingering touch left by your crush.

“how about the receptionist, she’s into you!” you hear yuuji suggest, earning a cheer from your stupid silver haired boss.

the three interns plus gojo disappear from the party after that, while you remain stuck in place like a statue made of stones— repeating the kiss in your head over and over again, in your thoughts drowning in images of kento nanami.

ATTEMPT #TWO - THE SECRET SANTA.

“good morning, kento!”

“good morning to you too,”

bristling from nanami’s warm greeting (as well as him calling you by your first name), you shuffle into the seat beside him with cold cheeks and bright eyes — doing your best to quietly shift out of your winter attire to make sure you don’t disturb the rest of the conference room. you’ve just snuck into the team meeting for Gojo Corp’s annual secret santa. this year would be your first time taking part and it took a hell of a lot of bribing (not really, just some locally made daifuku and the number of the receptionist gojo might be crushing on) to convince your boss to give you nanami for the special festive event.

picking out a gift for your blonde haired and stoic presenting crush proved difficult at first. you already knew that kento spent a lot of time at the office, working hard and dedicating himself to hours of paperwork — but that wasn’t exactly useful to know when it came to gift giving. however, after weeks of gathering intel by tapping into whatever office buzz nanami was involved in and sharing short exchanges with him by the coffee cart outside of Gojo Corp, you’ve managed to learn two things about kento nanami.

one, his appreciation for something homemade or cooked — like the quaint family owned bakery not too far from the office.

and two, his dream destination. the one place that he’s always wanted to vacation to — Kuantan, Malaysia.

now you couldn’t exactly afford to just splurge and buy him a ticket over there, not to mention there was a considerate budget placed on gifts…but what you could do is bring nanami’s favourite things to the office. while gojo sets out the rules for staff, you gently place your carefully wrapped presents on the table before you, again, trying to avoid making a ruckus with the crinkling wrapping paper.

“you’re a little later than usual.” nanami comments to you in a low tone, having been watching you this entire time.

he would feel weird saying it out loud, but he notices that you’re always early into the office — clicking in around twenty minutes to nine every day and that you take your time in setting up your desk for the day. as though you have a routine to calm your anxieties.

“i had to stop by somewhere for a last minute gift.” you grin after a hushed quip. and nanami can’t help but find it contagious. you’re a warm ray of sunshine to him — one that he can’t help but want to bask under and be near, especially during this winter cold. you make kento feel at peace with your calm aura. the way you speak so tenderly and kindly. as he turns his attention back to a blabbering gojo, he finds himself growing jealous of whoever received your gift. whoever it is, he hopes that they appreciate your thoughtfulness.

after the rules are done, everything is exchanged between assigned pairs as gojo calls up who was responsible form who.

elation courses through nanami’s veins once he learns that his secret santa was you — happy to know that he is about to be on the receiving end of your perfectly wrapped presents.

“i hope you like them,” you bleat shyly, passing him the leopard print-covered gifts. the very sight makes him grin, since the paper matches his usual work tie.

the blonde takes his time unwrapping each layer of paper — as if he doesn’t want to ruin all the hard work you put into presenting this perfectly for him. a strong wave of fondness crashes over your co-worker once the first present is revealed. nanami’s favourite, freshly baked sandwich from the japanese bakery downtown. the one he visits every day, and the same sandwich he orders every time. the one that fills him with nostalgia and reminds him of home.

the next gift is even more thoughtful, and he fights off the urge to clutch his chest — as if cupid has shot an arrow right through his heart and made it yearn for you and your kindness. it’s a crocheted water lily, like those found in the Taman Gelora park in Malaysia. the same park that nanami has always wanted to go to.

there’s a little postcard of the location too — with a note scribbled in your precise handwriting, wishing nanami a happy christmas. he tries not to dwell on the heart signed next to your name.

your saccharine voice slices through kento’s wild and appreciative thoughts delicately and he spares you a glance, watching your features as they illuminate with happiness from his reaction. you can tell that he likes your gift, and that fills you both with joy. “i heard from a little bird that you’ve always wanted to take a trip to Kuantan. and while i couldn’t get you a ticket myself, i figured these would be the next best thing. plus some food for your flight.” you joke while nanami thumbs the ridges of the yarn making up his water lily gift.

he laughs then, remembering how yuuji had grilled him about his dream vacation weeks back. it must have been for you.

you’re so selfless and thoughtful, it still blows the blonde office man’s mind that you would have gone through the trouble of getting him such a gift. most times, colleagues at Gojo Corp settle for fancy chocolates or snooty vouchers for department stores… but you used so much of your own time and effort to create something that kento nanami would truly appreciate. it drives him mad that he can’t seem to figure out why. why would you do something so nice for him?

“i wish i could have gotten you something in return.” he mumbles fondly.

“i don’t need anything from you kento,” you say sweetly, making his heart race as you put your hand over his. “i appreciate you and you’re my friend. i don’t need anything more.” you figure now is a bad time to confess to him, in front of everyone. though you might have chosen the wrong words — because while you do want more from nanami, he now thinks that you don’t, pulling away from you slightly. “i… i appreciate everything you do for the company. a-and i like spending time with you. being your friend.”

you facepalm internally, knowing you could have worded yourself better — but the realisation comes a little too late, for nanami is already pulling away from you, his once soft smile falling into place with the harsh lines of a frown. “thank you for the gifts,” he says, a little colder. now that he’s figured out why you truly made him those gifts. you see nanami as a friend, a good one. nothing more, like he had secretly hoped. “i must be getting back to work.”

“o-oh but kento—“ he looks down at you icily, you have no idea why he’s being so cold. he hasn’t a clue either, it’s not like you know of his affections or fondness towards you. you thought that calling yourselves friends would be just fine… at least until you found the confidence to confess properly. “nanami…did i offend you? i didn’t mean to pry with your gifts! i just wanted them to be perfect—“

“—you’re fine. just… duty calls. paperwork.”

“oh, right.” you reply, weak and defeated, thinking that he’s mad at you. rejecting you again. “good luck nanami…”

“thanks,” he mumbles. “for this, and the gift.”

“you’re welcome,” you say, mostly to yourself but before you can say more he’s disappeared from the conference room and gone back to his cubicle.

ATTEMPT #THREE - THE EVE OF CHRISTMAS.

as mentioned before, your boss isn’t exactly the serious type.

satoru gojo is silly and often irresponsible in regards to work. he’s had a lot to deal with and a lot to learn, he covers his mistakes with charms and smiles, but he’s learning. and when it comes down to it, satoru cares for the company, the office and most importantly — his staff.

which is why he makes it a rule that no one in his main team should work over the christmas period — with no exceptions.

of course, the ever-dedicated kento nanami has always found a loop-hole in avoiding the festive rule and his manager’s simple christmas wish. which is why, much to your chargin, satoru has meddled a little bit and sent you into the office to send nanami home. usually you wouldn’t mind the opportunity to speak with your crush, but after your second rejection from him in such a short space of time, you’re not so sure your little heart can take seeing the man before the holidays.

you’d agreed to satoru’s request nonetheless, your family didn't arrive until tomorrow and you couldn’t live with yourself if you let kento work through the night. you still had feelings for him after all.

when you arrive at your office, it’s dark and dim — matching the evening and it’s weather outside. you assume that any cleaning staff have already gone home, instructed by nanami who would also hate to keep people behind on Christmas Eve. it seems like him to offer to clean up after himself.

rounding the corner, you spot him in the conference room, tucked away by the tree from your christmas party as he taps away at his work laptop — no doubt finishing the Q3 report. you push past the glass door and make your way inside, tugging your scarf, hat and coat off while you watch nanami work. you hang them all up on a nearby coat rack.

“i know you’re there,” he speaks into the dark silence. “is that you, satoru? i’m not going home.”

“actually, satoru sent me in here to make sure you weren’t working on Christmas Eve.” you respond in an even tone, ignoring the slash of hurt over your heart when nanami fails to even spare you so much as a glance upon hearing your dulcet voice.

he instead scoffs, returning to his work. “tell him that i’m fine. i don’t need to be babysat. i know when to take a break.” kento doesn’t why he’s being so harsh with you, it’s not like you knew of his feelings. calling him your friend had been a token of kindness, but he let his rationality slip away and acted out because… what? he was afraid of your rejection?

despite his mean words, you stand your ground and refuse to leave kento alone. “i figured you might say that, so i bought you some food. these are cookies from the bakery that you like and they should keep you going,” you rummage in your tote for a small of cookies — pushing them across the large conference table for your stubborn blond co-worker. “the girl that works there is sweet. maybe we should go sometime, we can take a break from your work and have some cold turkey sandwiches ahead of Christmas Day—“

“if i wanted sweets i would have called up that meddling boss of ours, satoru,” nanami seethes, losing his patience. the more he looks at you, those big brown eyes and your soft, beautiful face, the more hurt he feels, the more nauseated he feels knowing that you might not like him the way he likes you. as just friends, instead of something more. “why are you here?”

you blink back your suprise. “w-what?”

“don’t you have family to be spending the night with?”

“i do it’s just… i worry about you, nanami. you work too hard, it’s christmas.”

“i really, really would like to finish the report so i can go home.”

your face scrunches up with rage and using that same fury, you march over the blonde man in three short strides — grabbing his chair and whirling him around to face you. you slam his laptop closed with enough power to shatter the damn thing, fixing nanami to look at you. ”what is wrong with you?”

“pardon?”

“i’ve… i’ve been trying all month to show you how much..how much i care about you and how much i like you. but it’s like you don’t even see me.” your voice warbles despite how angry you are, tears threatening to spill over the edge of your lashes. everything hurts, you don’t know what you’ve done to make nanami resent you in the way that he does now. perhaps if you were different, more confident and self assured maybe he would notice your gestures and implications. maybe he would like you back.

you wish for the darkness of the office to swallow you whole and make you disappear as you and nanami do nothing but stare blankly at each other. however, the lights on the obnoxious christmas tree continue to flash in the corner — illuminating the crystal tears clumped in your lashes and the slope of your features with a perfect golden glow. nanami sees you, he always has…but what good would a man like him be to a girl like you? sure, he wants to settle down, wants christmas with someone he loves, somewhere comfortable where he doesn’t have to worry about a thing — let alone money.

…but nanami is a tough nut to crack, he keeps to himself so much that even now you’re struggling hard to get him to speak his truth, and his feelings. he wouldn’t want you to give up trying even while he struggles to open up.

“i see you.” finally, kento finds his confidence and admits his truth to you. “i always have.”

he stands from his seat, towering over you and you stumble back. “do you? i’ve tried so hard… to tell you…”

the blonde leans down to your height and your words trail off, overwhelmed by him. “to tell me what?”

he prays that you can’t hear the pound of his heart against his ribcage or the blood rushing through his ears… but nanami has never stepped out of line or taken a risk and if he doesn’t, break the rules, he could risk losing the one good thing at this god forsaken place. “that i… that i like you. kento. i-i’m fond of you.” you exhale through your words, succumbing to everything that makes up kento nanami. his scent, gingerbread and fresh mint, makes you dizzy, his proximity makes your world tilt on its axis and you’re so nervous that you latch onto the collar of his dark blue dress shirt to keep yourself steady.

nanami seizes the opportunity to pour into you every emotion that he can’t bring himself to say. his large hands settle gingerly on the small of your back and his warm breath coasts over your fleshly lower lip, as if to ask for permission to kiss you properly. “may i?” comes his timbre voice, equality as shaky as yours had been earlier. you shake your head ‘yes’, giving nanami your consent to press his lips against your own in a life changing kiss. the action is tender, guiding you in all of the right places where you lack experience. the fists you'd formed in the collar of his shirt loosen the more that nanami works your lips in his gentle kiss — warming the frost over your little heart.

“i’m quite fond of you too,” he says your name after finally giving you the room that you need to breathe and kento brushes a thumb over your the swell bottom lip before he kisses you gently again. “i’m sorry i didn’t say so earlier.”

still holding onto him, a breathy chuckle escapes you as if you’re in shock. “w-what…what changed your mind? i thought you didn’t like me like that…”

“it wasn’t my mind that needed changing. it was the way i saw how you felt about me… i should have asked instead of assuming you only saw me as a friend. that was my mistake,” nanami explains carefully, choosing his words wisely. “you’ve been fair and kind to me, and i failed to give you the same grace due to my own doubts. i admire you, and should have confessed to you sooner but i—“

“but you wanted to finish working first, i get it.” you giggle and lean up to peck kento on the lips, stealing the words right out of his mouth. “just… please talk to me next time. i thought you were mad at me.”

your blonde co-worker, crush and now.. partner? (that was to be decided) gives your waist an apologetic squeeze — acknowledging his mistakes. “i owe you that much,” he replies warmly, “now how about those turkey sandwiches you were talking about?” nanami questions you awkwardly, in his own charming way of asking you out for a date on christmas eve.

after packing up and like a gentleman, he retrieves your scarf, hat and coat from the nearby coat rack by the door and gently pulls them over you one by one. like he cares, like he might even love you. he even zips you up to protect your cheeks from the bitter cold. nanami folds his own coat over the bend of his and grasps your hand firmly in his — keeping you close as you walk out of the office, a newly formed christmas couple.

somewhere off in the distance, the boss of the Gojo Corp office watches with a sly grin. while satoru might not have gotten his holiday romance, he’s glad his little plan was enough to get yourself and nanami together.

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embersofhope-if · 6 months

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What interactive fiction would you recommend (besides this one)?

oh anon i follow over 150 if blogs let me get you some of my favorites😊 This is very long so all of them are under the cut🫶

some of these you'll probably already have heard of bc of how popular they are, but trust me, they're popular for a reason, lmao

these ones all have demos (if i messed up and some dont uh ignore that)

@infamous-if - "You're going to be a superstar, no matter what it takes." genuinely one of my favorites ifs (seven lawless my beloved please come back home the kids are asking whats taking so long)

@coeluvr - "You play as the only remaining member of the royal family of Vesphire; living in the home of the man who took away everything from you." another ive been obsessed with recently. i will forever love revenge stories (and my pookie helios)

@merrycrisis-if - "As a late 20-something year-old fresh from a recent break-up and struggling to pay rent in New York, life throws up more questions than answers."

@ramonag-if - "When your village is razed to the ground, you're left fleeing with an exiled prince. You can trust no one but each other. Your father's dying wish was to protect the prince, but can you really trust a man who was exiled from his kingdom?"

@nyehilismwriting / Project Hadea - "Set in a distant future, you play the role of an elite operative of Scytha Industries, a private contracting firm. ‘Contracting’, in this case, refers to anything from political assassinations, to private security, to bodyguard services."

@vapolis - "You’re a mercenary, gun for hire, assassin, information extractor, delivery person – call it what you want, because the people that hire you for your services don’t give much of a shit what you call yourself as long as you actually get them what they want."

@godsandvillains-if - "As the only metahuman with the ability to wield the powerful Chaos Magic, your very blood holds the answers to unlocking the secrets behind the control of time and space, but it has the drawback of being almost completely volatile."

@hvllowheart - "LAMB TO THE SLAUGHTER is a spy game where you take on the role of an agent under the codename Wraith, who up until two years ago was one of the best agents TERRA has ever made. now the agency returns into your life and pulls you back into the field as agents go missing by the dozens."

@eyesofshan-if - "Years ago, you were uprooted from the only home you had ever known and captured to be sold as a slave. Now, war is at your doorstep once more while you are left in a delicate position — as a commander of the country that invaded your homeland. While investigating a case of illegal human trafficking, you come across a plot that threatens to rip this tentative peace apart."

@apt502-if - "Moving from your small home to New York City was supposed to be a dream. You were supposed to start your new life with your long-distance partner and dive headfirst into full-on adulthood. Everything was supposed to be perfect. How can you not love being in your mid-twenties in the Big Apple?That is until your put-together, white collar partner dumps you the same day you arrive. Fun."

@acourtofserpents - "As the only human in the Kingdom of Faerie, you're no stranger to shining eyes that hold looks filled with hatred, lips painted in the color of forest fruits whispering your name, heads with pointed ears turning at your every step. Though you long for their approval, for a place amongst the wicked immortals, they remind you with every breath you take that as you came from dirt, to dirt you will return."

@softlyopulent-if - "All of King Adder’s children are a mystery to the common folk, but you—you are nothing but a ghost. A ghost, that spends eighteen years locked away in the deepest part of the palace, so that no eyes may lay upon you.And those that do—they do not treat you kindly.And when you are finally of age, at last, you are betrothed to the child of the King of a far away kingdom, to secure an alliance that your father has been seeking for years.And you are swept away to a place even more foreign than your own land, to be wed to a stranger that looks at you with contempt. To live in a kingdom of citizens that despise you. And perhaps, just perhaps, fight a war."

@heromaker-if - "Stories of heroes, legends and chosen ones are commonplace. But you'd never thought it was your child who would have to save the world from the Demon Lord's clutches."

@theabyssal - "In The Abyssal, you assume the control of a powerful deity that was betrayed by their fellow gods. Imprisoned against your will for all eternity, you had a long time to plan your revenge."

@milaswriting - "By birth, and association, you are one of the most famous people in the big city of Lehsa. Your father's the mayor, and you're from a bright, vibrant, bustling city... and yet, until recently, you didn't realise all the secrets yourself and the city held."

@zico-if - "You were supposed to be a sacrifice in order to bring an eldritch god to your realm, a sacrifice that was never supposed to live. Instead of dying and summoning the god intended, you find yourself face to face with an ancient being that was chained and locked away for the horrors they once committed."

@collegetennisoriginstory - "Experience the ups-and-downs of life as a freshman on the Cargill University varsity tennis team amongst a colorful cast of characters."

@disenchantedif - "You used to be a beacon of hope. Now they only know you as the failure, the Unchosen. Will you rise above them? Will you become better or far worse than they could ever imagine?"

@bouncyballcitadel - "Play as a first-year surgery intern at Citadel Health. Will you become the star intern and curry the favor of the chief? Or will you uncover Citadel Health’s secrets and break a story or two? This will be the best and worst year of your life. Don’t forget to save lives and break some hearts along the way."

@leoneliterary - "You play as a thief pressed into the employ of a mysterious nobleman. With the your life, the fate of your guild, and your honor on the line, you'll have to navigate the perils of the royal court and combat a more mystical threat. The story is set in Cusmo, the naturally fortified, desert capital of Hashind, and will showcase the much praised Upper Cusmo, the crime ridden Lower Cusmo, and much more."

@doriana-gray-games - "Play as your version of Sherlock Holmes in this romance detective game!"

@fallenlightsif - "You are the half-sibling of High General Ezrah Rhys and have lived the past twelve years of your life in Kesdon, the capital of Ebia. You've spent most of your time training and honing your skills for the future that awaits you. A future that is entirely your own."

@shai-manahan - "They call you Ripper. It’s a horrendous name to give to a detective like you, and definitely not one you chose for yourself, but you suppose it’s to be expected given your reputation for putting powerful people behind bars. Businesses feared you. The other cops hated you. Local gangs despised your entire existence. Yet, despite all of that, you remained untouched. Until that day, when all the lies and the deception and the foolish mistakes turned your life upside down."

@larkingame - "someone is after you. for over a decade and a half now, you’ve traveled up, down and across the country--running schemes and hunting fiends with your mentor, con-man-by-day, vampire-hunter-by-night, Wyatt Abrams--the prolific vampire slayer and the living descendant of Gregory Abrams, founder and prophet of the Abrams Family, the nomadic vampire-hunting cult that raised you--and was wiped out years ago. carrying the abrams name means also means carrying on it's enemies--but that isn't to say you haven't forged a couple of your own along the way. now, it seems someone is trying to make good on old threats and promises. they've placed a bounty on your head. so you and wyatt do what you do best: you run away. to some little town, out nevada ways, where the title of town preacher is unexpectedly thrust upon you--bringing back years of trauma you thought long tucked away."

@evertidings - "you are a bounty hunter. responsible for taking in rogue supernaturals, you work for IAOS—the international agency of supernaturals—where, alongside your best friend and partner, you two have quickly become the best hunting duo of the branch. after a particularly tricky hunt, you brief your boss, Caine Atheron, and come back to work the next day to find that he has mysteriously disappeared overnight, the company is now in the hands of his best friend, Sebastian Mai. and though no one else seems to question it, something tells you that there's more to the story."

@rotten-games - Regrets Of The Traitor: "You are the Ruler of Hadaria after killing the previous Queens and betraying all who once trusted you. Sat upon the throne with all the power available to you, one would be forgiven for believing you finished with your quest. With a strange figure in your dreams speaking vague prophecies of magical artifacts, a mysterious cult moving into the city, and a group intent on unseating you from your place, perhaps you’re way in over your head for a farmer’s kid. City of Immortals: "You follow a pair of siblings worlds apart as they get accustomed to their new realities in two very different worlds. One trapped in an unnatural desert wasteland where every resource has a scarcity, not knowing if they’ll be the only one left when everything turns to dust, the other working as a private investigator in a sprawling underground metropolis of the undying. Each not knowing the other is alive, will they unravel the mysteries that somehow connect their two new homes?"

@shepherds-of-haven - "Shepherds of Haven is a dark fantasy interactive fiction game. In it, you play as a Mage living in a world where magic is outlawed and your people—those possessing supernatural powers—are oppressed and reviled. The world is ruled by humans who believe in science, technology, and industry: at best, you and your kind are nothing more than a fairytale, and at worst you are the state’s greatest threat."

@someoneverypretty-world - "As a child, growing up in the slums of Hvinir without any guardians, you believed you would not live to see 30. Until Haven, a thief guild, took you in and taught you how to survive. Facing hardships, the guild leader tasks you to sneak into the castle with the mission to take."

@northern-passage - "The Northern Passage is an 18+ horror fantasy CYOA, where you play as a hunter sent up north to investigate a series of missing people along the border of your home country and in the port cities of the Blackwater. Working with your handler, Lea, you will travel north and discover that things are far worse than you ever could have imagined, and that there is something powerful lurking out in the deep, dark sea…"

@thedecoy-if - "♔ The Decoy is a dark fantasy that follows you, a 21st century normal human, kidnapped to an alternate magical universe to play the part of the missing heir to a powerful throne...who also happens to be your doppelgänger. ♔"

@ripperplague - "You are a doctor, a prodigy in hiding. Deep in the underbelly of Valeris, you hide among the shadows. You work hard to wring the blood stains off your palms, your face...your soul. Redemption and revenge are parallel goals, the flames of rage and disgust mingling. How could anyone ever love you?"

These ones dont have a demo yet, but im still absolutely obsessed

@pavedinashes-if - "You're only 20 when suddenly your life goes bam! Throwing you into a whole new city, a different country even. Wasn't part of the plan, but you know how life loves to mess with plans. People happened, stuff happened, and suddenly you're on the move. The new chapter ahead? Buckle up, 'cause it's not gonna be all sunshine and rainbows. And guess what? Your step-mom? Yeah, she's right there in the same city. She's always had this knack for trying to steer your ship, like every decision's a GPS checkpoint. But hey, there's this one thing that's never let you down—your skateboard. It's like the buddy that's been with you through thick and thin, the one that never bails. Among all this craziness it's like your anchor. So, the big question is—can you break out of the loop you got in? Find your place in the world and restart or lose yourself in temptation? Time to find out."

@riptide-if - "Your dad has always said you swim as if your were born to be in the water; the rest of your family has always said that he is the whole reason you turned out like that. So, it's not really a surprise when you had used all the money you got for your 7th birthday to buy a surfboard. And even less of a surprise when you started joining small surf competitions by the time you were 10, later followed by bigger competitions. It seems you are the only one surprised when it turns out you're able to compete in the World Surfer's League's Ultimate Tournament Tour*. Thrown into a mix of fellow surfing prodigies, rookies, and pros, do you really have what it takes to win?"

@weepinwriter - "You are inmate No. 1441, incarcerated in Tartarus, the most notorious prison on the continent. You find yourself imprisoned for a crime that you do not remember committing, leaving you in a state of uncertainty about your own identity and purpose. The first memory you have is awakening to the sensation of a gun being shoved into your mouth."

@whatawaitsus - "Despite being one of the most expensive schools in the nation, nothing particularly interesting has happened at the school in the nine years you've been here— aside from the occasional accidental possession caused by a ghost or the common room getting flooded after a nixie gets too frustrated over their homework. That is until students start to go missing."

@evermount - "Blue-suited guards stand in every corner, but they're no threat—you're under threat. And this is how you keep safe. It's necessary; the council said so themselves. Under no circumstances shall Evermount be left, ever. So, no one has, and no one intends to. Why would you? It's peaceful—you're at peace. You have your spouse, and you have your house; everyone's happy. This is all you've ever known."

@forsakensword-if - "When the Deathless, an Ancient Evil that hasn’t been seen in over two million years, returns to Earth, it threatens the extremely precarious peace that has settled between the warring factions of Heaven and Hell. God, in an effort to protect Humanity from the consequences of a war between the Angels and Demons, sends Heaven’s best warriors to banish the Deathless once more. When that ultimately fails, it is declared that God’s Sworn Sword and Heaven’s Chief Angel will be charged with finding a way to destroy the Deathless once and for all. That Angel is you. The Archangel Michael."

@velena-if - "You wake up in a dark, cold place with no memories of yourself, save for one: the memory of your death. It becomes clear soon enough that you are in the Nav, the domain of the goddess of death, Morana, and the sanctuary of all the evil spirits and monsters. For you, Nav will be the place where your life changes forever."

@countdown-if - "Three months ago, life took a sharp turn. Your mother found herself entangled in a situation so bad, she couldn't dig her way out of it, like usual. This time, the hole was way too deep. She needed help, and the only people capable of aiding her were the same ones she had vowed never to allow back into her life, let alone introduce to you and your younger sibling. Who were they? Your grandparents—a powerful and well-established duo. In short, they did manage to help your mother back on her feet, but not without strings attached—never without strings. Now, you're facing a senior year in a private school, fully funded by none other than grandma and grandpa, dearest. The only task at hand: do what your mother couldn't—graduate."

@dropout-if - "This is your first summer home since you began studying in Stanford. That is what everyone thinks. This is your first summer home since you dropped out of college, thus becoming the biggest disappointment in your neighborhood. That is what only you know. "

@stonewall-if - "Stonewall Military Academy: the most brutal, merciless, and unforgiving boarding school in the country. Most recruits either desert or die by the end of their first year. It is where the fiercest and deadliest killers are trained and molded to be the military's steel fist. And it is not for the faint of heart."

@viperdove-if - "You are the Dove, the heir to one of the most powerful crime families in your country. The grip your family--your father--has on their side of the land is tight, and now that you've reached adulthood it's time for you to be fully absorbed into the machinations of gang warfare. That means opium, mercenaries, assassinations. In this ancient world, blood moves people just as much as money does."

@fallen-if - "You are an individual that has been known by many aliases over the years. Child of the dawn, the original sinner, star of the morning. But no matter the name, your identity remains the same. You are the one that defied the heavens, the one that cast aside the shackles of tradition and broke free from the constraints of the divine. You are Lucifer Morningstar - The Fallen Angel. "

@maboroshi-if - "Maboroshi is an Interactive Fiction Game based in the world of Naruto, however, all events within the story span during the end of the First Shinobi War and the beginning of the Second Shinobi War."

@greatprotector-if - "Forced out of your family's farm against your will, you are now an ocean away from home, and you have somehow been chosen to be the main protector of the heir to some kingdom you’ve hardly even heard of. The spot's only open because the former protector died of old age, so that's probably a good indicator that it won't be as strenuous as it sounds. But despite that, you pour yourself into your work. You can't help it. You feel safer decked out in armour, and you like having something you're trusted to look after. Protect some royalty, cover all your blind spots, and try not to worry about all you've left behind."

@retribution-if - "Retribution, He Cries is a revenge story set in the Dark Ages of the fictional world of [REDACTED] and other realms."

@thescarsilivewith-if - "You were a kind monarch once. After your mother’s brutal reign, you thought your people needed respite. Evidently, they didn’t think the same since their bloodthirst only increased. Three years after your coronation, your mother’s favourite consort dethroned you with the army and the clergy’s support. As you fled from the palace together with your spouse, from an arranged marriage celebrated only three months earlier, you were found by slavers. You managed to save your spouse but not yourself. Four years later, your spouse finds you, though you’re not the same person they knew. You are not changed in spirit alone, however, for your magic grew in your captivity and now you’re unbound. When the crown chose you as its owner, you wanted peace for your kingdom. Now the only thing you crave is revenge."

#thanks anon!#this took me way too long lmao #i was gonna add more but u can only @ 50 blogs in one post🙁#anyways! enjoy🫶#rec list #other ifs.

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ahotmesswithprivilege · 11 days

Text

Aphrodite

paring: Jake Seresin x female!air-traffic controller!reader

wordcount: ca. 5500

synopsis: When Jake hears the voice of the new air-traffic controller he's a goner. If anyone were to ask him what the goddess of love and beauty would sound like, he'd play them a recording of your voice. And when he's finally brave enough to ask you out you turn him down. Little does he know that even with you refusing to meet him at the Hard Deck his life is still changing tonight.

note: Will I ever write something short? Nope, I don't think so. Will I ever write something with a reader who hasn't been body-shamed for her size? Kinda unlikely, though I am trying. I promise. This was inspired by a very specific line in the OS that came to me on a walk with my floof and I was like yeah. Let's turn that into a cute little drabble. What could go wrong? After over 5000 words and three different attempts at an ending I am sitting here and say, I hope you enjoy. I got to make my joke, that's all I asked for. And for those who find the Criminal Minds quote I stole. I see you, I love you. It's just too fucking good not to use and I will be forever bitter that those two never got their HEA.

Trigger Warning(If I forgot something or you want me to add to the list, my inbox is wide open. You are responsible for your media consumption, so proceed with caution, you know the drill): plus-size!reader, body shaming, cursing, kinda descriptive violence (if you took the poll, you know), attempted SA/non-consensual touch, military/navy inaccuracies, non-canon (not even sure if this is canon compliant so, take that as you will), written by a non-native speaker, probably classifies as soft!Jake Seresin but you'll be the judge of that, the end is cheesy AF,

Masterlist

banner by @firefly-graphics divider by @sweetmelodygraphics gif by @galactic-marvelettes

!!!Minors do not interact! I block blank blogs/without age/Minors!!!

“Aphrodite. I need to ask you a question” “Yes, Hangman?” “You got time tonight? 7 pm at the Hard Deck. I’d love to finally meet my beautiful guardian angel and buy her a drink as thanks for keeping me safe”, he knew he made himself vulnerable with this. But after weeks of hinting, he was no longer ready to wait until maybe one day you got it. He needed an answer, no matter what that might be. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Hangman” “Why?” “Because I could never live up to the image you painted of me in your head” There was a long silence. “Fine. Let’s forget I ever asked. But for the record, you are the most beautiful woman I know, no matter what you look like. Hangman over and out”

He knew he had a reputation on base and he was pretty sure that you had heard it too, but to think that you could believe that his infatuation with you would change one bit only because he knew your face hurt more than he’d ever like to admit. He wasn’t that shallow a man.

You are hidden away in a booth at the Hard Deck, sitting around a table while your friends are chatting about their day. Your table was the one furthest away from the pool tables and dart boards and you were thanking the heavens for this. At least that way you had a chance to not accidentally bump into him.

With you are Carla who works as AM, Meredith from Archives and of course Lisa from accounting. You all met on your first day on base during orientation and as the only women starting that day, you stuck together. It's good to have some people around you that are familiar, that you feel actually comfortable around. It's the only reason why they managed to talk you into going to a bar even if your mind was still at the tower, the disappointed tone of his voice echoing in your ear. They all know of your crush and they had attempted to talk you into just going over and introducing yourself to him more often than you can count. Damn if they got wind of what happened today you knew for a fact Carla would drag you to the bar to get him a drink and then shove you into him to apologise. But since they are oblivious you can take over the role that you usually play for them. Designated driver and drinks watchdog while they were dancing. It’s not like they asked you to do it or expected you to, but it was a role you naturally fell into. You had so few people who gave a damn about you that you had become fiercely protective of the ones who did and your girls are pretty close to the top of that list.

"Isn't that your flirty aviator?", Lisa asks you, pointing to the pool tables where your eyes fall on the dagger squad and him. Jake Hangman Seresin, Adonis incarnate. You cannot help but stare at him and lord almighty, even here in the bar he looked like a marble statue and you knew that he had the hottest voice on planet Earth on top of that.

"How much more obvious do you wanna do that?", you take her hand and put it back on the table. You didn't need any more attention on your table than four women on their own in a bar full of navy guys already got. The moment he would hear your voice he'd know and after everything you said to him today, you couldn't stomach the idea of the expression of disdain and betrayal on his beautiful features. "Would it be so bad if he came over?", Carla asks and you shoot her a deadly look. She’s the one who’s the most vocal about you just taking that leap and talking to him and has been from day one. Carla had a front-row seat to the effect you had on Hangman, heard the way he talked about you to his squad mates, the affection in his eyes and the soft smile that played on his lips included. It's why she’s trying so hard to convince you to give this a chance because she knew that this would be absolutely magical. "I mean he is a charming guy and he absolutely has his sweet moments..." "That's because his survival is dependent on you, Carla. I too would worship the ground you walk on if your hands were the difference between coming home in a jet or an iron coffin", Meredith retorts. "Nothing compared to what he'd do for her. She's his everything. Without her he's practically blind", she points at you and you know that this is her way of nudging you, but you only stare at the bottle in front of you. "True. But that would mean she'd have to come out of her ivory tower and actually show her face for once", you kick Meredith under the table for the comment.

You know that she's not saying this in malice, but until Jake had weaselled his way into your heart you had loved how things were going. The anonymity gave you a certain freedom to move on base and it meant that your relationship with the aviators was not clouded by their perception of you. You had seen how that ended once and you didn't need a repeat of the clusterfuck that had turned into. "I don't need another multimillion-dollar asset on the list of things that went up in flames because of me" "Don't be ridiculous doll", Carla shook her head and took your hand between hers, "That was not on you and you know it. You were right and he was ignoring that because he was an asshole" "Still got him almost killed", you close your eyes for a moment and hear the cursing, the desperation in his voice before he ejected and then the crash. "I don't need a repeat"

There is a moment of silence at your table that is filled with the bar chatter and the song that came from the music box. "Come on girls. Let's dance", Lisa decides and you smile at her. This is her way of looking out for you. She knows you need some space right now so you can sort out your brain and wrangle those memories back into the box where they belonged. Reaching out her hands to both Meredith and Carla she pulls them both up. When Carla tries to pull you up too, you only shake your head and point at the glasses on the table. "I'll look out for your drinks", you explain and she nods. As much as they’d love to have you there with them, just enjoying the music and having fun, they knew that here in the Hard Deck, you would never be able to have fun while dancing. When you met at Meredith’s place they could easily rope you into it, but here with all the eyes that would be watching, whether they wanted it or not you felt vulnerable and naked.

Hangman was in a mood and the entire dagger squad could practically feel it. From the moment he left his jet today, he had his mask in place, hiding behind his cockiness and bravado far more than he usually did. He had perfected this over the years to make sure people stayed away from him so he wouldn't be vulnerable. All he ever dreamed of was being an aviator and he worked so goddamn hard for it. And now he had everything. He had the job he loved, a nice house near the beach and yet. He had built walls so high that no one dared to even attempt to enter and that meant at the end of the day he was alone.

And then came your voice into his life and god he hated the cliché of love at first sight but he was a goner when you introduced yourself to him. Calling you Aphrodite was the most natural thing in the world. You were funny and charming and if he ever imagined a voice for the goddess of love and beauty then it was yours. But you had turned him down because you thought him to be shallow and vain and not even winning all the money of the dagger squad can chase away the pain that causes.

You are watching the girls dancing, a soft smile on your lips when you see how much fun they had out there. This is why you had dragged yourself up and out of the pitty party on your couch to come with them. Their smiles are worth the heartache you feel whenever your eyes wander to the pool tables and you see him, doing his thing and obviously grilling whoever is brave enough to pick up a cue and challenge him.

It's one of the major reasons why you are so terrified of talking to him. Lieutenant Jake Seresin was not just good at what he did, he excelled. Whether in the jet or here in the bar and then you saw the woman sauntering over to him, chatting him up with a beer for him in hand. And it seems like a switch flipped and he gave her the brightest smile and started charming her out of her pants. It hurts to think that even for the shortest moment in time there had been something like a chance for you to be her. And then you look down on your reflection in your phone and a sad smile grows on your lips while you shake your head. That’s daydreaming. You are leaps and bounds away from a man like Hangman. To believe any different is just a childish dream.

When the woman saunters over with a bottle of his favourite beer his heart rate picks up for a moment. He had never seen that face before so maybe his Aphrodite had changed her mind. Maybe you’d give him a chance. And then she opens her mouth and he realises how stupid this was. You had taken over his brain to a degree that was completely unhealthy. So maybe it was about time for an exorcism and even if she wasn’t close to having your charm and voice, she was easy enough on the eye for him to at least give it a try.

When the girls come back to the table you see their happy but exhausted expressions as they sit down. “Your bottle is empty. I’ll go and get you a new drink”, Lisa shoots back up from her seat and is gone before you can even say something. It was their way to thank you for looking out for them. Almost like a little tradition of your own. You came with them and got them home safe and sound and they kept your drinks coming.

It was a Friday evening, so the Hard Deck was packed with Navy, tag chasers and the occasional visitor that stumbled across the bar from the beach. Your eyes follow her as she weaves through the crowd and you know you are not the only one watching. There were men in different states of drunkenness who couldn’t keep their gaze off of her, practically undressing her with their eyes. It’s why you preferred the much more quiet meetings with your girls at someone’s home. You could have the drinks you wanted, play the music you enjoyed all the time and you didn’t have to deal with men who thought their mere existence warranted applause. Not that this is a battle that you ever had to fight, but for your friends, there is never a night without someone attempting to put their hands where they didn’t belong.

You cannot listen to what Carla and Meredith are chatting about because your focus is all on Lisa, waiting patiently until Jimmy can take her order and when she finally gets his attention you see how a guy walks closer to her. He had been one of those who had attempted to dance with her but Lisa was much more interested in having fun with her friends so she ignored him. Something that he hadn't taken too well, considering that this would be attempt number two of convincing her to give him the time of day.

There is a war waging in your chest when you see him get even more into her personal space. A part of you wanted to go over to chase him away hoping he was the kind of guy who'd turn around with a tucked tail if he had to face two women at once and the other part of you worried that this would only make it worse considering some men took that as a two-for-one deal offer. And even though you don't want to admit it, there is also a part of you that's scared that if you were to make a scene it would turn you into the focal point and if you knew anything about Hangman and his squad, then that they'd be the very first to come to your rescue. Even if he had the woman who brought him the beer caged between himself and the wall, arm resting above her head as they talk, he would not stand for such behaviour and if he'd hear your voice... The thought alone makes your stomach churn.

Once Lisa has the bottle with your coke in hand she makes her way straight back to your table. You had hoped that this would be enough to deter him and even his friends attempted to hold him back as he walked past their table but no. Whoever he was, he was so full of himself that he believed every woman should be thankful that he gave them the time of day. If it weren't your booth he was walking towards, you would have thought that it looked utterly hilarious how he was swaying side to side, like someone who’s on a ship for the first time and needs to find his footing. Pretty embarrassing considering he's an officer in bloody service khakis. And the way he fought his way through the crowd gave away something else. He was one of the really annoying ones. Those who lacked the word no in their vocabulary and the thought alone made your blood boil.

“Come on darling. We both know you are just acting coy”, are the first words you hear and that makes you stand up and offer Lisa the backseat in the booth. She gives you a thankful smile and hands you the glass bottle of coke before she scoots in and you take the seat at the front. And yet, even with her decidedly choosing to put a living and breathing body between them, he was not getting the hint. “One dance and you’ll never want to let me go again”, he adds, stopping in front of your table. “You’ll have the time of your life princess”, the words come out slurred and drawn together. You don’t need to get any closer to him to know he’s completely wasted.

Since the guy wouldn't let up you stood up again, using your body in an attempt to push him away from your table. There were few advantages to your size but being a great blocking wall was one of them. "Why don't you go and look for someone else to pester?", your tone is calm and measured but authoritative. It’s one of those moments when you thank the heavens for your training, both vocally and for the stress resistance you have built over the years. "That's none of your business", he growls, trying to make his way past you but whenever he tries to sidestep you, your body is already there to block him. It’s not difficult considering how inebriated he is, but it morphs the look of lust in his eyes into fury. "You made it my business, the moment you started harassing my friend", your voice turns cutting. You had a very low bullshit tolerance as is, but men like him never failed to rub you the wrong way. "Just because no one would touch you with a ten-foot pole, doesn't mean you have to ruin it for everyone else, hippo", he slurs. It’s not the first time someone compares you to an animal and hippo is by far the least creative animal he could have gone for, but it didn’t matter to you. That is until he dares to put his hands on you.

“Fucking shit”, Rooster growls as he watches Mark Weller follow a pretty girl from the bar back to her table. Phoenix who had been hunched over the table for a shot follows his eyes and heaves a sigh. Fucking shit indeed.

Weller was a cocky as fuck asshole, nothing unusual for a navy pilot in training, but he couldn’t back anything up with actual skills. How he made the cut for Top Gun has been a mystery to everyone who’d ever seen him fly a jet, but nevertheless, he existed, annoying the shit out of everyone who had the displeasure of working with him. They know that chances are that this is gonna go bad, so they put their cues down and walk over to the rest of the squad. “Looks like we’ll have to throw someone overboard”, Rooster tells them as Coyote's and Bob's gazes follow his eyes and they nod. Whenever one of their own made a scene they felt like they had to at least attempt to right that asshole's wrong. And Hangman who for the better part of 30 minutes attempted to convince himself that fucking the tag chaser in one of the bathrooms was a smart idea to get you out of his system sees how his squad starts moving and takes it his chance to get out of this situation, reputation intact. “Sorry, sweetness. But it seems like I am needed”, he says without looking back as he follows the others who try to get through the crowd as quickly as possible and then there is a loud thud, the cracking of glass and the chatter and noise in the bar suddenly dies down.

When the dagger squad finally pushed themselves through the crowd they saw the scene before them. Weller curled up on the floor, temple bleeding and whimpering while you stood over him looking like a fucking fury. Dr Martens, high-waisted jeans shorts and white top with full sleeves, the neck of a shattered bottle still in hand, chest heaving as you attempt to catch your own breath. "For the record, the Hippopotamus amphibius is the wild mammal with the highest kill count on planet earth, asshole"

The moment he hears you speak Jake Hangman Seresin is a goner. He knew that whatever you'd look like, he'd be infatuated with you but right now as you stood there looking like a fucking goddess, he knew he'd never come back from this. A smirk grows on his lips as the words sink in. You were probably the only person on earth to drop such a line after knocking out a guy cold with a bottle and it made that fondness for you grow even more in his heart.

"Get that asshole out of my bar boys", the words come from Penny who had climbed onto the bartop to see what the fuck was going on and as much as she hated violence, right now she was happy that the fucker had gotten a lesson. Rooster only nods her way as he and Coyote pick him up from the floor, manoeuvring the dead weight through the crowd and out the door. "And if you feel generous, call him an ambulance"

You barely register what followed your words, still trying to calm your beating heart. You had no idea that everyone was staring at you and you especially had no clue that your favourite aviator walked over to you, calm and careful not to startle. "Aphrodite...", the word pulls you back to reality and the first thing you see are green eyes that steal your breath away and then you feel his hand on your cheek and he tilts your head up to kiss you. For a moment you give in, adrenalin still pumping through your veins. Then you hear the loud thud of the bottleneck hitting the floor and that's when you suddenly sober up. You are kissing fucking Hangman. So you push him back and he's off you in an instant but it's obvious on his face that doesn't like it one bit. "What's wrong...?", that fucking voice and those green eyes... they make you do very stupid things and so you did the only thing you could right about now. You run, ignoring his voice and Carla's, you just made your way through the crowd, the feeling of his lips still on yours as tears streamed down your face.

When Jake got close to you he saw the determination in your eyes, the way you were willing to do whatever it took to protect your friends and it made his heart skip another beat and in a tiny part of his heart, he might even dream of belonging to those you'd love so much you would smash a bottle over someone's head to protect them. "Aphrodite...", the word fell from his lips like a desperate prayer and when your eyes flittered up from the piece of trash on the floor to his he felt like lighting hit him. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and if he were a betting man, he'd say that he'd never meet anyone who could rival you.

Placing his hand on your cheek is pure instinct and pulling you into him for a kiss is everything he wanted to do from that morning you introduced yourself to him over coms. The moment your lips touched his he forgot everything else. The woman who brought him the beer and was probably fuming right about now, the words you said to him this morning, how much you hurt him when you turned him down. It was all gone and replaced with that deeply rooted feeling of being home and all he wants to do is bottle up that feeling and never let it go. And then he feels your hand on his chest and the push and he stumbles back. There is something hiding in those beautiful eyes he never wanted to illicit in you. Panic.

"What's wrong...?", he tried to reach out again, not understanding the issue. You had leaned into him, had kissed him back. Everything had been fine until... and then he had to watch you turn around and before he could hold on to you, you ran away. "Fuck", he's running his hands over his face as the realisation settles in that he probably just lost the one chance he had to convince you that he was not just a vain playboy and he fucked up. Royally so. "Hangman", he turns to the side and there is his Carla, sitting in your booth, her arms wrapped around another woman who was sobbing into her shoulder. "Go get your girl", at first he's not quite getting what she means before she gives him a pointer with her head. And that's when things fall into place. She knows that he is utterly infatuated with you, fuck everyone in the squad does, but she knew you too and maybe...

He didn't look back as he made his way through the crowd, ignoring everyone else around him. He had to go and find you. Once he opens the door of the Hard Deck the chilly night air hits him. Or as chilly as a San Diego summer night can get. His eyes wandered over the parking lot, hoping that you hadn't already left when he saw a figure standing at the beach.

You had kissed Hangman. Or well he kissed you but you kissed him back. God, you were so fucking stupid. It's not like you've been right here before and the last time... "Aphrodite!" You turn around and there he is, hurrying down the steps to the beach and you know that you cannot outrun him, especially not in the sand. God, why did you forget your keys and phone at the table?

"What?", you knew he didn't deserve the snappyness. He didn't do anything wrong. This was a you problem not a him one and still you hated it. The fact that he just came into your life and made you break all the rules you set for yourself, all the safety measures you put in place to not have history repeat itself. "Why are you so scared of me?" You are shaking your head no as you stare up in the night sky, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. "Please...", he takes another step closer, eyes searching your features for anything he could have missed. Anything that would at least give him a clue why you were so adamant about the distance. "I cannot do that again" "Do what not again?" Your pain-filled eyes look at him and it feels like a dagger straight into his heart. "I cannot fall for an aviator only to get him almost killed"

There is a heavy silence between you. From the first day you had Hangman in your ear you knew it was bound to happen. The flirting, the teasing and the fallout. It felt like a really fucked up version of deja-vu but still. You couldn't stop yourself. He was far too charming for his own good and you were weak.

Hangman is taken aback by your words. He has no fucking clue what you are talking about but he can see how much it hurts and all he wants is to kiss the furrow of your brow away and pull you into his arms. To give you a space where you are safe from whatever ails you. "You don't get me killed, sweetheart. You get me back home", he reminded you, knowing that there had been situations aplenty where it had been your voice that led him away from chaos and catastrophe.

You shake your head again, eyes trying to find anything but those green eyes to focus on because fucking god you wanted to believe him so bad.

He takes another step closer before he places his hands back on your cheeks, stopping your shaking head before his eyes find yours. "You are my heaven-sent solace", he reiterates with so much conviction that you cannot escape the feeling any longer, surging forward to press your lips onto his and god did it make his heart soar to have you right here in his arms, the warmth of your skin under his fingertips and your soft lips pressed against his. He doesn't know how long he's kissing you but when you pull back he rests his forehead on yours and closes his eyes, revelling in the feeling of having you this close. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this...", he whispers, his warm breath fanning over your skin while you try to get your erratic heartbeat back under control. "Who hurt you so bad you thought you had to run away?"

The question is surprising you, making you pull back as much the hands on your cheeks will allow while your panic-filled eyes wander over his face. Your mouth opens and closes a few times before you take a deep breath. "I'm sure you heard of the crash of the jet in Norfolk 6 months ago?" Of course, he had. Everyone and their mother had heard about it. The first squad to be issued a brand new jet model and on day one a pilot had to eject and the thing went up in flames, but what... "I was the air-traffic controller...", there is such a sombreness to the tone in your voice that he didn't dare to speak. "Bond, the guy who was flying it had been flirting with me for months at that point and the day before he got to fly his first mission training he asked me out and I said yes...", you closed your eyes trying to push back the memories of that night in the bar. The laughter, the humiliation. "Should have known the moment I heard the fucking callsign that he was bad news but I was young and dumb and I have a thing for a southern drawl so...", you catch yourself before you reveal even more. "He told me that he'd be stupid not to ask out a woman with a voice like mine and when he saw me. Well let's say he was everything but enthused", you open your eyes to focus back on his, trying to make out even the smallest detail in the moonlight. "He'd have to gauge out his eyes to fuck me was the most memorable one though", the sadness that washes over your features is something that pains his heart beyond words. Of course, you'd push him away after something like this, especially with a guy of his reputation, but you weren't done yet.

"I was hurt, yes and I felt really stupid for thinking that he could you know, care about me and not only be interested in my level of 'fuckability', but when I saw him on my schedule the next day I just thought fine, this is my job, I'm gonna do this and I tried. Fucking god I really tried but he... he brushed off every warning I gave and then there was this storm cell and he kept going on about how I was just bitter because he didn't wanna fuck me and now I do everything to ruin his first flight in the new machine..." "The cell caught up to him" "Of bloody fucking course it did", you burst out and then look at him, the guilt of lashing out at him written all over your face but all Jake did was brush away your tears. "As soon as he was conscious he tried to pin it on me but they checked the tape so he was demoted and they gave me a free pick of what base I'd like to work on, so I chose the one furthest away from Norfolk and here I am"

His eyes wandered over your features and when he saw the angry furrow of your brow he leaned forward to kiss it away.

"When I first heard your voice I knew I was in fucking trouble", you whisper, feeling how his lips on your forehead make you relax in his arms, hands placed on his chest and abs. "It felt like fucking deja-vu on that first day but I couldn't help myself. You were charming and kind and when Carla pointed you out to me I knew I was so goddamn fucked", you place a hand on his cheek now, to pull him down so your lips could hover over his. "When you asked me out I panicked because hearing those words from him was rough but from you... I...", Jake leaned in to kiss your worries away.

"Shhh. It's ok", he wants to comfort you, to make you forget you've ever done as much as set foot on the base in Norfolk so he leans in and steals another kiss from your lips and then another. "And just for the record. The first thought I had when I saw you standing there with that bottle in your hand as you looked down on that pathetic little dipshit after dropping what I'd dub the most iconic line ever uttered in that bar was 'She's a fucking goddess'"

And then he sees a smile grow on your lips and it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, especially when it reaches your eyes. "I am not sure if I should be flattered or concerned considering the display of violence...", you say and he leans in for yet another kiss. "It wasn't the violence, Aphrodite. When I saw you, I saw a woman who is strong and protective. A woman I'd give the world to be loved by" This time it's you who pulls him into the kiss, wrapping your arm around his neck before you pull back a bit, smiling at the way he's chasing your lips for another kiss, but the fingers that are tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck hold him back. "Be careful what you wish for, Hangman. It might come true..."

likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated as always

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman x reader #jake seresin x you #top gun fanfiction #jake seresin fic #my writing

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liyawritesss · 11 months

Note

YOUR EARTH 42 MILES FIC WAS SO FUCKING GOOD OMFG👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾 of your taking requests can you write about how prowler miles met his girl and how he rizzed her up please? Only if you want to of course and again I only read one thing by you but your writing got me hooked!!!!

ᴀʟʟ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪꜱ ɪ ʙᴇ ʟᴏᴠɪɴ' ʏᴏᴜ

Characters: Spiderverse!Earth-42!Miles Morales x Black!Fem!Reader

Type: Fic

Word Count: 3.7k

Synopsis: The sequel to i really like what you’ve done to me, Miles reflects on his first encounter with you, and how he immediately made it his mission to make you his.

Warnings: Cursing….thats about it, I think

A/N: This was a long one in the making and I think I actually like my characterization of 42!miles here. I didn’t wanna make him overly edgy or overly hood or anything, and I hope that you guys will appreciate the subtlety of his personality here. Hope you all enjoy!

Tags: @6-noir @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @jacuzziwaters @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @niyahwrites @marsfunzon22 @briology @honeybleed @romiantic @queenofthespiderverse @onlyperc @starsoirees @yasminisbroke @asensitivecookie @kdyance @sussybaka10 @famedrs-blog @milesismyhubby @foreclosure--of--a--dream

Miles remembers the day he first talked to you so clearly. It was almost as if it were yesterday.

The middle of the semester had always been prime time for teachers to start assigning end of semester projects, and while Miles was lucky enough for majority of his classes to have only assigned him individual projects, there was always one class that such a fortune was never the case in.

When the teacher was calling out pairs there was a part of Miles that dreaded who his partner would be. He hoped it wasn't a slacker - he'd had his fair share of irritation and headache from those types of students who never took their schooling seriously. Then again, he didn't necessarily have to, either, considering his uncensored brilliance already, but at least he still made an effort to look like he made an effort. Others didn't have the same sentiment.

He didn't know most of his classmates personally, but knew the ones he needed to know by name and face; due to previous instances of being paired with them for projects in this same fashion. The fact that most of his old project partners were consistently placed in the same classes as him reinforced the begrudging familiarity that came with them. Though there were a few select people out of that circle that he'd found himself knowing of due to other circumstances - clumsiness in the halls, points of contact for school activities, etc.

So when the teacher called Miles' name and the name of his partner, it wasn't a surprise to himself when his head turned to the side to look for them. What did surprise him, however, was when he turned to the seat next to him, only to have found it empty.

He can't recall if he's ever seen the seat empty since he's been in this class, missing the presence of the person who he deemed to be a good student. Always on time, always exact; work turned in, always complete, and always paying attention to the lectures. Their own interactions were limited to the passing of worksheets, exchanges of pencils and the occasional conversations of how irritating the teacher was being.

Miles wouldn't consider the shared interactions to be that one friendship - it was more akin to general acquaintanceship. Though, deciphering her character from said limited interactions, he knew that this was not in normal behavior for the girl. Eyebrows furrowed at the lack of her presence, questioning where she could have been.

Since his partner wasn't there, Miles had been left with a brainstorming worksheet to fill out on his own, but his mind was not on the project. He found himself still wondering about his partner's whereabouts. He could have sworn he'd seen her that day, walking the halls with the same two girls she'd been friends with since the school year started. While the same two girls were in class, having been paired together for the project, the missing girl wasn't. So, when the ring of the bell sounded, signaling the end of the day, Miles knew what his first course of action was to be.

"Aye, yo," his voice carries over to the two girls who'd been packing their supplies up, ready to begin their after school activities of sneaking off campus to go to the mall, "where yo' friend at?"

The first girl, with soft locs pulls into a high pony and shiny lip gloss adorning her lips, who he knew by the name of Key, scrunched her face in a grimace

"What's it to you, boy?" She says chastely, giving him a quick once over.

"C'mon, nah," Miles presses, "y'all know she my partner for this stupid project. I'm just tryna get this shit over with, a'ight?"

The other friend answers next - one of his ex-project partners Taji - her chin resting in her hand, fingers decorated with matte brown coffin shaped nails resting against her cheek. "We ain't seen her since lunch. Said she was gon' go to her locker for sumn' but ain't never come back to the table."

Miles' brow arches, as if quizzing her answer, trying to determine the validity of it. Taji catches onto this, and shoots a similar expression back to him.

"What, you thinkin' I'm lyin' to you, nigga?"

"Are you, Taj?"

"Boy, what I got to lie to you for?"

Taji and Miles had a similar acquaintanceship to that of him and (Y/N), with the former being his partner for a project for their shared arts class in their sophomore year. She was a talented artist, not to mention the one person able to reawaken his love for art, even if it was to a small degree.

"A'ight, whatever, y'all ain't no help."

He let out a sigh, dismissing the girls’ seemingly secretive antics with a wave of his hand, before tucking the same one in his pocket, preparing to leave the classroom. He didn’t have time to entertain the two girls before him, and believed it best to leave them be and return to his dorm room to figure out the project on his own.

“Check the rooftops,” Miles heard Taji say as half of his body begins to cross the threshold of the classroom door. It makes the boy stop in his tracks, turning his head back to see the two girls as they stand as well, gathering their belongings to leave for the day as well, “or somewhere around there.”

“The rooftops are locked, dummy,” Miles corrects, “janitors here ain’t that lazy and ignorant.”

“Oh, so you weren’t just up there a week ago?” Taji replies back, a tinge of tease in her voice, knowing she’s caught him red handed when a small bulge forms on his cheek.

“Yeah, nigga, tighten up, cuz you lackin’.”

“Shut up, big head.”

The faint echo of snickering lingers as Miles leaves the classroom, heavy footsteps carrying him down the hall to the maintenance door that leads to the rooftops.

It’s a routine he’s done many times before, the muscle memory set into motion the second he sees the custodian cart next to the doorway, with the clip of keys attached to the lanyard hanging off the side handle. Expert fingers grab hold of the clip and slide off the first bronze colored key distinguishable for all the maintenance doors in the building - including the rooftop door. Before the custodian exits the bathroom situated next to the maintenance door, Miles is long gone and heads up the next three flights of stairs to reach the navy blue metal door to the school's rooftop.

Miles had become well acquainted with the rooftop of Visions Academy. After the death of his father, he found solace in solitude. He couldn’t skip school and stay in his dorm or return to his apartment, because both would result in his mother worrying and stressing over him and his uncle getting on his ass about the importance of school and sending his mother into more distress than what she was already enduring. He’d come across the remote haven on accident; one morning when he arrived at school earlier than anyone else, he’d made a wrong turn into what he thought was his homeroom, but upon recognizing the darker and tinier corridor he had entered, realized he had in fact entered one of the maintenance hallways. Curiosity got the better of the dark skinned boy, and upon climbing the three flights of stairs, came across an unlocked metal door that lead to the school's rooftop.

For months, that would be his routine. Arriving a couple of hours before classes began to spend time by himself upon the school’s rooftop. He’d watch the sunrise above the Brooklyn skyline, allowing the heat to melt the cold exterior of his skin, shaking off the bitterness that came from lack of sleep and a racing mind from the night before. Miles and the morning sun became good acquaintances that way, greeting each other at each sunrise; it became one of very few things he looked forward to in those days, and continued to be his secret motivation to peel himself from his bed in the morning to attend the school his mother and father worked hard to put him in.

His hand grasps onto the door hand and twists, pushing the door outward and Miles is immediately washed in the evening sun. He steps onto the concrete ground, scanning the area in front of him for the presence of another. The corner in which he usually occupies is empty, and there’s nothing much to see at the moment but scattered leaves on top of firm grayness.

Black and white Jordan turn and trail around the side of the rooftop doorway, still searching for any sign of another's presence. Taji’s tip is proven correct when his eyes land upon a feminine figure, and there’s a slight wave of relief crosses his face upon finally finding the girl who’d been missing from class two hours before.

“Yo.” Miles calls out to her, and yet there is no reaction. With his eyebrows furrowed, he calls out again, but there is no response once again. He begins to walk further towards her, confusion beginning to settle in, but is then relieved when he notices a book in her lap; as well as earbuds that become visible the closer Miles steps towards her.

There’s a peaceful air that surrounds the girl, and there’s a part of Miles that doesn’t want to disturb her, but as much respect as he has for the other, he’ll be damned if he has to wait until next week to explain this project to her. So, with a short sigh, Miles reaches his hand out to touch her shoulder, calling out to the girl for the third time.

“Aye-” he begins, and all it takes is a touch on her shoulder for the girl to jump away from his touch in shock. A short yelp - more like a squeak, if anything - erupted from her mouth, which made Miles purse his lips tight to keep the snort he wanted to release at bay.

“Jesus, fuck-” you curse, shoulders dropping and a sigh leaving your lips the moment you realized who it was.

“You know that’s dangerous, right?” Miles asks, raising a finger to create circular motions towards his own ear before gesturing to you. “Having those things in on max; what if you was out on the street?”

A scowl forms on your lips as you take out one of your earbuds, stopping the music you had filtering into your ears as you were deep into your reading. You held the book by the spine, thumb placed in between the pages and forefinger on the hardcover spine. “I know not to do that on the street,” you reply, “I was just tryna read my book, before you decided to scare the living shit out of me.”

The boy rolls his eyes at your words, then follows your form as you take to sitting on the concrete ground, using the side of the ventilation bed to lean against. A second of silence passes between the two of you, before Miles finds himself sitting in the spot you once occupied, with wiring fans sounding behind him softly.

“You ain’t come to class today,” Miles voices, hands tucked into the pockets of his black and white Brooklyn letterman jacket as he focuses his gaze onto you. The soft click of you closing your earbud case sounds as you pocket them into your jacket to give the other male your attention, “what was that about?”

It takes you a minute to respond, and Miles isn’t sure if it was because you were coming up with an excuse that would satisfy him, or if you were buying your time for the question to be unanswered. “You know we got them projects assigned today, right?”

“That’s exactly why I ain’t go,” you answer, finally, “there’s an odd number in that class. Was hoping that I’d just be able to do somethin’ by myself instead of being partnered with some lazy ass who don’t be doin’ shit for real.”

“Damn,” the boy breathes with a chuckle, amused by her colorful choice of words, “ain’t even give me a chance and I’m already being called lazy, that’s crazy.”

It takes you a moment to catch on to his tease, at first furrowing your brows as you deciphered what his words meant. As realization dawned on you, your brows rose apologetically, having now realized the possible severity of your words.

“No, wait- shit, I didn’t mean like that-”

“You cool, chill,” the dark skinned boy reassures, “I know what you mean.”

He watches as another sigh leaves your lips, in relief that your words were not misunderstood, but also in response to his little joke, and he can’t help but to chuckle again. “You right, though. Don’t nobody in that class do shit for real.”

That little jest did garner a laugh from you, and Miles can tell it’s one of comfort and ease. It’s the kind of laugh his mother would share with him after a long shift at the hospital where she’d have to put up a professional front, and she finally is able to shed the protective exterior and be her cheeky self. It’s the kind of laugh that signifies the forming of bond between people; the development of a relationship; the start of something new.

“A’ight, here’s the deal,” says Miles, his hand coming from the pocket of his jacket, rubbing his nose out of habit, then leaning on his knee to grow closer to you, “we both don’t wanna do this project ‘cus it’s a waste of time-”

“A huge waste of time-”

“-but if we do this project, I can prove to you I’m not a lazy ass.”

He watches as you feign a look of thought, eyes casted upward, lips pursed together with a little hum rumbling from your throat. After a moment, your eyes geared over towards Miles, a teasing smile gracing your lips, before finally answering him; “A’ight, sure.”

You start to rise, and Miles does as well, outstretching a hand to help you up from your seating position. As you dust off the bottom of your skirt from the debris on the ground, Miles picks up your bookbag from the ground and hands it to you once you’ve adjusted yourself appropriately.

If Miles would have been told that he would be dating the girl who was partnered with him for their end of year project, he’d look at you as if you just called him out of his name. And yet, as he glances down at his phone, eyes scanning over your good morning messages together, he finds himself secretly thanking that teacher for pairing them up; he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“Hey, Unc?” says the younger, breaking the comfortable silence shared between the two, the ambiance of the morning radio the only sound echoing throughout the car.

“Yeah?” For a second, Miles purses his lips together. He spends a few seconds looking down at the screen of his phone and at the road ahead, as if contemplating on his next words carefully. It doesn’t take much for Aaron to notice the shift in behavior. “What is it?”

The younger’s tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, creating an extrusion on the side of Miles’ face, before he speaks; “You hungry?”

It’s an odd question posed, Aaron thinks, as it’s one that’s honestly never been posed in this section of their shared routine. Once a job was finished, especially when it went well into the night, and cleanup and debriefing happened during the early morning hours, both were too exhausted to let the thought of hunger cross their minds. Aaron raises an eyebrow at the question, beckoning the younger to explain further, “Am I…hungry?”

“Yeah,” says Miles, “my girl, she uh, she made breakfast, and asked if I wanted a plate. So I was askin’ you if you wanted one too-”

The look on Aaron’s face turned from confusion to bewilderment, and the previous expression was mirrored onto Miles’ face the second his sentence finished. “Why you lookin’ like that?”

A moment passed. A smile cracks onto Aaron’s face, a chuckle falls from his thick lips, a teasing tone already etched into his voice as he begins to speak.

“Oh no-”

“Aww, shit-!”

“Please, tio, don’t-”

“She can cook, too?”

And for the next few second, Miles is sunken into the passenger seat as all he can do is allow the onslaught of teasing and pestering from his uncle to cause heat to rise up his neck at a staggering temperature. In between the questions of other endearing qualities his nephew’s girlfriend may have had, the GPS within the car directs the older to said girlfriend’s address, of which had been keyed in during Aaron’s banter. Amidst it all, the growling of their stomachs was undeniable.

After a series of turns, the pair eventually reached your block, the familiar brownstone buildings and plotted trees along the sidewalk illuminated beautifully by the morning sun. “Right here,” Miles says as he points to the specific brownstone with your address on it, the older easily slipping into the parking spot in front of the building.

The younger mumbles a ‘be right back’ before he slips from the car, leaving Aaron in his own solitude, finding amusement in the entire ordeal. Never had he thought he’d be offered a plate of food by his nephew’s girl, and yet, he finds himself reliving the almost identical situation to the time Jefferson wanted to pull up to Rio’s home for a warm plate of empanadas. It had been the first time he had met Rio, and if Miles was anything like his father, then this would be the first time he’d meet the girl that stole his nephew’s heart.

Thirty minutes pass before Miles emerges from the reddish-brown door, and Aaron would have told the boy off for having him wait for long for a plate he offered, if he hadn’t seen the young lady he’d assume to be his girlfriend trailing behind the dark skinned boy.

“Remember, the one on top is your uncles since he doesn’t like pork bacon. And be careful because the food is still hot, I don’t want y’all to burn your mouths-”

“Baby,” Miles says, his tone warm and comforting as his freehand comes to your waist, the other holding the white bag of styrofoam containers containing the breakfast you had prepared, “I know, it’s okay. I’m not gon’ steal his turkey bacon.”

“Yeah, you better not.” You mumble against the skin of his cheek before pressing your lips to the soft skin, pressing deep into the flesh as if to burn the imprint of your lips onto his skin. Once your lips parted from the first kiss, a series of pecks met Miles’ cheek, causing the boy to smile unconsciously by the softness of your touch.

Miles’ wandering eyes caught the sight of his uncle peering through the car window, snickering at the pair, but just as soon as he was caught, the older resumed his original position; though the attempt to restrain the tug on his lips proved to be a struggle. “Is that your uncle?” You ask, innocent but hesitant, not wanting to cross a boundary. Though the state of your relationship was healthy and stable, with lots of communication and expressions of love shared amongst the both of you, Miles had made it clear that easing you into meeting his mother and uncle would be something to take seriously. They were all he had left, and he wanted to make sure that what the two of you had, and were working to develop, was something long term and lasting. The last thing he wanted was for his relationship to crash and burn the second he wanted to connect the most significant people in his life together.

“Yeah, that’s him,” Miles replies, a slight tug on one side of his lips as he turns to glance at the car, then back towards you, “do you wanna say hi?”

You barely understood the words the other had asked you before nodding excitedly. Though as the two of you descended down the tan concrete stairs, across the sidewalk and to the side of the care, the revelation slowly dawned on you that you were meeting Miles’ uncle, and you had no idea why all of a sudden you felt conscious of the loungewear set you’d chosen to dawn that morning while you made breakfast, or the fact that if was through the window of his car - both being the exact opposite of how you wanted your first meeting with Miles’ family to go.

Aaron took the hint with both of you approaching the car, and rolled down the passenger window to speak to the two of you clearly.

“Unc,” Miles starts, taking his hand from your waist to gesture between you and Aaron, “this is (Y/N); and babe, this is my Uncle Aaron.”

There seemed to be a second of stalling on your end, before you took a step forward, bending at the knees slightly to meet Aaron’s eyes. His one hand rested on the steering wheel, his other arm leaning on the arm rest, propping him up.

“Hi, Mr. Davis,” you said, doing your bets to refrain from stuttering, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Hello to you, too, miss lady,” the older replies, “it’s nice to meet you, too. I heard you made breakfast for us?”

You nodded with a polite smile, “I was just in the mood to cook, and I figured Miles may be hungry; he said you were with him, so I only thought it right to make you a plate, too.”

Aaron purses his lips together in an expression of approval, eyes moving from yours to his nephews as his head bobbing in a slow motion. “Oh, yeah, she’s good, man.”

“Tio, please-” Miles whines, which garners a chuckle from his uncle and a giggle from you; and for a second, the feeling that formed in the pit of his stomach the first time he made you laugh returns. The kind of laughs that signifies the forming of a bond between people; the development of a relationship… the start of something new. It’s from that, that Miles knows that any worries of his family not liking you vanishes.

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shycloudkitty · 8 months

Text

His Sweetest Escape

Summary: Leon returned from a mission. Safe but exhausted and traumatized as hell. He doesn't want to drown in the suffocating thoughts of survivor's guilt. He wants an escape. And you were always his sweetest escape.

Pairing: RE6 Leon Kennedy! × Fem! Reader

Tags: (NSFW 18+), MDNI, FWB relationship, Angst at first, talking about Leon's trauma (necessary for the plot), Oral (f receiving!), Cunnilingus, fingering, sitting on Leon's face, nipple play, Leon being a tease. A bit ooc? Probably.

A/N: Hello Guys!!! My FIRST smut fic is here🤭. Yes I know…FWB again, but I just really wanted to write a smut fic with that trope😭. Also I am very serious about minors not interacting with this post. Please don't.

(Edit) : This can be considered a sort of rough prequel to Just a little touch. Cause for a prequel I have something else cooking up🤭

Hope you enjoy this and have a good day!! 😊😊

A huge thanks to @elfven-blog and @luniaxi for helping me a lot. A little birthday (belated) present to @nexysworld 🥰

Dividers by: @/cafekitsune

WC: 5.6K

Another mission. Another horde of zombies and tyrants. And dozens and dozens of lives that he wasn't able to save in time. But it was a successful mission or at least that's what he was told by his superiors.

Leon tiredly pushed open the door to his apartment and deeply sighed as he slowly entered and closed the door behind him.

It is said that a home perfectly reflects people's personalities. The things there give bits of how a person lives and wants to live, their likes and dislikes and much more.

And his cold and empty apartment gave a perfect reflection on who he was. The furniture was there, furnished of course. But that was it. No decorations or signs of someone living there. And that's how he felt he was. A person who had all the features of a normal person but cold and empty on the inside.

But then again he never found a home. This was just a place to live in.

Leon found a whiskey bottle from the liquor cabinet and dropped to the couch, groaning as he sat down after a long time feeling his injuries stretch uncomfortably making him wince. Leaning his head back and staring at the empty ceiling, flashbacks of the mission running wild in his mind. Taking a big swig of his whiskey to numb it. Trying to forget everything about that God forsaken assignment.

Leon kept drinking and drinking till he started to feel a bit numb to it and sighed tiredly to himself and pushed the bottle aside. Allowing himself to get a bit lost in his thoughts and closed his eyes.

He was so fucking tired of all this fighting, fighting it to no fucking end and never seeing the ray of hope that all of this shit would end one day. Instead it only got worse. And he fucking hated it.

His survivor's guilt continued to eat at him slowly and bit by bit on his consciousness, till he felt suffocated by it.

He opened his eyes, taking a deep breath and groaned in frustration. The fuck was wrong with him? Actually don't answer that, he already knows.

He took a deep breath to calm himself. Closing his eyes and taking small deep breaths.

Leon shook his head to himself and sighed again. This wasn't going to go away anytime soon. And he really didn't want to wallow and drown in the guilt or he was sure it would kill him more than it already had. He wanted an escape.

A sweet escape that always made him forget about the hellish missions and the guilt that comes with it.

He opened his phone and searched for your contact and pressed the call button. Bringing the phone to his ear as it rang.

For some reason he felt a bit guilty for only calling you for these things, which was weird because it has always been like this between you both… and neither of you minded it before.

Maybe he needs this more than he thought.

“Hey handsome” Your sweet voice rang in his ear from the other side of the call making his mood a bit better.

He cleared his throat and said “Hey… Doing anything right now?” Trying not to sound too desperate for her and playing it cool.

“Sort of… But… I can be free if you want~” trying to tease him a little bit.

A small smile bloomed on his face when he heard that and teasingly replied. “You will make time for me huh? That's sweet.”

You chuckle and tease him back. “Oh you know… I could never say no to you…or a good time.”

Your teasing words made Leon smile a bit more. Knowing you could always tease him a little and get away with it and he wouldn't mind it even once cause he loved the tease.

Leon then says. “Then be free and come here.”

“Uff… So bossy. Can't add a ‘please’ in your sentence?” You asked in a playful way.

“One more comment out of your smart mouth and I will come to your apartment to show you how bossy I can actually be.” Voice getting sultry as he teased you.

It's not like it will be the first time he bossed a sweet thing like you around… always so eager to please him, following the orders he used to give you while you were a moaning & whimpering mess but oh, so ready to do them… just for him.

How could he not feel like a God when you were always ready to be his devoted worshiper.

There was a beat of silence, and Leon smirked knowing that teasing worked perfectly in making you flustered.

He took the opportunity and said “Hmm… that's what I thought, now come here…please” emphasizing the word please more on purpose.

You lightly huff over the phone. “You know you are making a lot of promises.” your voice was clearly flustered even if you tried to hide it.

“Cause I can keep ‘em. I don't make empty promises and you know that…” His voice lowered. He knew how much he had an effect on you, and he couldn't help but use it to his advantage.

Leon waited for a response.

“...I do.” your voice came out more breathy than he expected.

“Good girl… now come soon. I am waiting.”

He cut the call and tossed his phone aside, taking a deep breath. He wasn't going to lie to himself, he got plenty worked up from just one call and it was probably less than a minute.

You were a damn vixen and he loved it.

Now that you were most certainly coming over, he could at least take a shower. He got up from the couch with a groan and stretched his arms a bit and made his way to his bathroom.

Removing his gear and soiled work clothes, he got in the shower and turned it on. Letting the water slowly wash the grime and dried blood away along with the horrible memories of the mission.

Instead he focused his thoughts on you. He let his mind slowly fill with the sweet memories of you. Your soft red lips against his… They tasted like candy, sometimes cherry but always something sweet.

And he especially loved when your pretty lips were wrapped around his cock…slowly taking him in and looking up at him with those greedy eyes all your senses focused on him to pleasure him.

How could he not want a sweet thing like you around forever?

But he wouldn't admit that out loud.

Leon could feel himself get more worked up as he felt more images fill up in his head and groaned quietly.

He huffed lightly, and quickly finished his shower and got out of it. Moving towards his wardrobe and wearing his sweatpants and one of his casual blue t-shirt. And decided to wait till you arrived.

15 mins later his doorbell rang and he grinned at the thought that it was you. And quickly walked towards the door and opened it.

And there you were, a smile on your face and a soft blush on your cheeks. Wearing a white crop top and blue jeans to pair it up with and he couldn't help but smirk at the sight. He bit his lip lightly and teasingly said. “You came huh?”

You rolled your eyes and smiled playfully at his words. “You called.” your voice being equally teasing.

He grinned and let you inside his apartment and closed the door behind you.

“When did you come back from your mission?” You asked as you went over and sat on the couch and looked at him.

“Today actually…” Leon said as he came over and sat beside you. You raised an eyebrow and said. “Today... Like..Just now?”

Leon nodded and shrugged lightly and looked at you. “Yeah. Why?”

Your eyes widened and said. “Wow… aren't you tired and sleepy as hell?”

Leon chuckled and shrugged. “No, not really.”

Well to be fair he was exhausted but that's why you were here… to take it all away.

You frowned slightly not believing his words. After all, he was gone for a considerably long time. You then slowly ask. “Are you sure?”

Leon just chuckled and teasingly replied with a smirk. “Don't worry your pretty little head about it… Although I am flattered that you care that much about my health.”

While he was grateful that you were concerned for him, he didn't want to talk about it. He would rather focus on you and get lost in you than talk about his awful work.

You roll your eyes and smirk at him and playfully reply. “Please… I am only asking because I don't think you will be able to last if you just came back home tired as hell.”

You knew what you were doing, but again a little friendly fire never hurts anyone. And in this, you don't care if it hurts you.

Leon looks at you in amusement and scoffs lightly, shifting closer to you as his voice lowered. “You think I wouldn't be able to last long hmm?” Slowly bringing his hand to your thigh and caressing it gently while looking in your eyes.

You bite your lip and slowly say. “You heard what I said… Did I hit the nail with that?”

No, but you did hurt his ego. And he was going to prove exactly how wrong you are. All in the name of friendly fire.

Leon started to gently run his fingers to your inner thighs and rub teasing circles there. His hand inching closer and closer... but never touching you where you really wanted him to.

His lips curve in a smirk and biting his lip lightly. “You really think that huh...” his hot breath hitting your neck. His gaze falling on your lips, on how you are slowly biting them.

Your face grows flushed and goosebumps rise on your skin as he… slowly moves his free hand on your other thigh and does the same thing there. His smirk grows wider when he feels you squirming a bit.

Everything around you feels so much hotter now… his touch, his eyes shamelessly tracing every inch of your soft body.

Leon watched as you cleared your throat and looked away from him. “Not really… I was just joking, you know.”

Leon smirked some more and teasingly repeated your words. “Just joking hmm?”

Your breath hitches when Leon presses his lips on your neck and presses feather light kisses on it while gently nibbling on it too. You tilt your head back giving him better access, eyes fluttering shut as his teeth lightly scrape your skin.

Your perfume slowly fills his senses and makes his mind hazy with lust. You smelled so fucking good to him. All this teasing was doing a number on him. So much so that now all he wanted to do was to fuck you dumb against this couch and still keep going.

He gently bites your earlobe and mumbles. “Can't have you making jokes everywhere on serious matters baby…”

You gasp as he suddenly spreads your thighs apart, settling himself between them. His bites on your neck get a bit more harsher as his hands start sliding to your ass. Gripping them tightly and bringing you close, pressing you against the couch and him.

He then whispers. “Can't have a sweet thing like you leaving my bed thinking my cock wasn't good enough for your pussy…”

You squirmed in his grip as his words shoot straight at your core. His touch felt as if it was burning right through your skin. You opened your mouth to say something and a small whimper escaped your lips as he bit down on a much sensitive part of your neck.

“Oh Leon…” You mumbled and looked at him. And he quickly sealed your lips with a kiss and mumbles against your lips. “I know baby, You love that cock don't you? Love how good it feels when it ruins your little cunt.”

A small mewl left your mouth as two of his fingers reached your center, sliding them up and down on your clothed cunt giving you the stimulation you were craving.

Leon smirked at your little sounds and snakes his other hand under your crop top, slowly groping your right breast in his hand. And tauntingly says. “Yeah…Feels good when I give that cunt a bit of attention, Doesn't it? Already squirming under my fingers and I haven't even started.”

Your body grew hotter as his fingers started to rub small circles over your cunt and now groping your breasts a bit harshly now. You can feel your panties getting wet from his teasing and lean more into his fingers to search for that friction. You whine and pout at him. “Leon…Stop teasing.”

He bites your earlobe. “You try to tell me what I should…And teasing you will be all I do tonight.” You pouted him in response and he just gave you a teasing grin.

As he says that he pinches one of your nipples making you jolt in surprise. You whine as he continues to pinch and roll it teasingly between his fingers drawing a needy moan from you.

He then pulls away slightly and starts to unbutton your jeans and kisses you. He lightly tugs at your lower lip, giving you a pleasant shiver down your spine. Removing your jeans he cups your ass and drags it a bit closer for him to see. Smirking at the wet spot on your cute lacy panties.

Soft moans and whimpers fall off your lips as he presses his thumb on your clit over the thin layer of the fabric and rubs slow teasing circles.

His free hand makes its way to your chest and eagerly lifts your crop top and tugs your bra down to free your breasts. And latches his mouth to one of them and eagerly starts to suck on them, not even bothering to fully remove it.

He then starts to slowly suck on your nipples taking his sweet time with it while still paying attention to your cunt. His eyes are shut as if he was concentrating on the world's most important task ever. Your moans started to get louder and more whiny, and feel the flimsy fabric of your panties sticking to your folds by now.

He suddenly pinches your clit at the same time he gives a harsh tug at your nipple. Your body twitches from the sensation and you whine louder than before. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you gasped for breaths.

You looked down to see his face and whined to him. “Leon, I want more…please.” Your voice was more breathy than before. You gave him a pout and looked at him with those same needy eyes which he usually gave into.

He feels so proud for having you this way, seeing how quickly you used to melt for him and gave him the control he was so desperately craving without any resistance. And he loved it every single time. Seeing your red pouty lips, eyes filled with lust, messed up hair, flushed face, it made his heart skip a few beats every time… He could always get lost in your beauty and he wouldn't have it any other way.

Leon presses a kiss at your temple and drops another at your shoulder. And smirks and in a taunting tone whispers. “We just started baby, Already can't last hmm?”

Ass. That's what he was. An ass for using your words against you.

He then pulls back and you whine at the loss of his touch. Panting softly, your skin feeling as if it was burning under his hot gaze. You look up at him and he wasn't any better but he had a better control on it.

He grins and kisses you softly on the lips to make up for the teasing and softly asks “Want to move this to the bedroom?” You nod and kiss him back. Wrapping his arms around his neck and pulling him close.

You both kiss each other softly and he slowly removes the rest of your clothes and lifts you up in his arms and slowly stands up. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. Your hands gripping his shoulders and continue to kiss him softly while he makes his way to his bedroom.

He places his hands on your hips to hold you and never breaks the kiss even once. If anything he pulls you more close and deepens the kisses. He opens his bedroom door and slowly lays you down on bed and pulls away a bit and smiles at you and softly whispers. “Want more?”

You nod and he leans in close and deepens the kiss. Gently caressing your body all over, his hands kneading the soft plush fat of your thighs and hips. Tongue exploring your mouth sensually while kissing you. Both of your eyes closed while enjoying the sensual kisses and touches. This was much calmer than what you both were doing earlier but still very sensual to keep you both going.

“Feeling better?” He mumbles against your lips.

You chuckle softly and in a teasing tone reply. “I would feel much better when you actually start.”

You feel a deep rumble from his chest as he laughs softly at that and shakes his head lightly. His voice takes a quick change from soft to sweetly seductive and whispers. “Fucking insatiable…Love it. Who could tell that a cutie like you was such a slut inside. But you are not gonna hear any complaints from me.”

Your cheeks burn red from his words as he now starts to kiss your neck and collarbone. A moan slipped from your mouth when he pressed himself forward and his boner made contact with your sensitive clit, letting you feel how much he was turned on right now. The cloth of his sweatpants gave enough friction to feel amazing as you started to grind against him, wanting to continue where he left off.

Soft grunts slipped from his mouth as he felt you eagerly rub your pussy against him. A rough chuckle leaves his lips and he mumbles. “Patience baby…” and moves his hips away to stop it, pulling a whine from your mouth from frustration.

He brings your lips in a deep kiss which you were more than happy to respond to. His hands found their way back to your chest to your breasts. Groping and massaging them and giving light tugs at your nipple which made your body twitch in excitement.

He then tugged your lower lip, gave a harsh bite to it and tweaked your nipple lightly. He continues this motion of torturing you like this. While you lay there under him writhing and moaning for him. “Leon… I can't take it… please..”

The little piece of shit just laughs and tweaks your nipples once more making you whimper for him. And in a taunting tone says. “Oh yeah? You can't take it hmm? Too damn bad…”

You feel him rubbing those little buds under his thumb sometimes rolling it between his fingers while basically tongue fucking your mouth. You whimper, whine and even try to push him off but if anything that encourages him to do more of that.

Soon you feel that invisible band in your stomach stretching and stretching… just waiting to snap. And Leon notices it, the way your body starts shivering and your moans get louder. He then leans in to whisper. “Gonna cum baby?”

You nod and look at him with a pout. “Please…” He just smirks and keeps doing what he was doing. Your body twitches and holds onto his shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut. You are just so close… Right… there.

And he pulls away.

Your eyes immediately shoot open. “Nooo!” A loud whine leaves your lips and look up at him with a frustrated expression.

How could he do this to you? Such a fucking tease? And you were so fucking close and he just had to pull away and ruin it.

He had a big shit eating grin on his face but he wasn't faring any better than you were. His shirt was clinging to his body, face flushed red and his hair messed up. And the way you can see his dick bulging in his pants proved he was just as pent up as you.

He was just teasing both of you to hell. Asshole.

You gave a pout as the tears from frustration started to brim in your eyes. “You are so mean…”

Leon smiles as he leans down closer to you and softly coos to you. “Aww… is my baby angry at me?”

You nod and continue to pout at him. Leon smiles and takes your face in his hands. And kisses you gently on your soft lips. You don't kiss him back at first but you hear his soft whispers to forgive him for teasing you so much. “Please baby… forgive me? I swear I wouldn't tease you now… Kiss me back?”

And you really wanted to stay mad at him but… you couldn't do that for much long.

How could you when he looked at you with those blue lust blown eyes and gave you soft kisses across your face to make you forgive him?

You then slowly kissed him back and he was more than happy to oblige. Kissing you softly, taking his time to ease you and then he says. “Ride my face? I promise I will let you cum this time..”

Your face went red and your eyes widened and mumbled against his lips. “Really? Are you sure you want me to do that?”

You feel him nod, lightly tugging at your lower lip and say. “Of course…Want that pretty pussy of yours on my face.”

It's not like this was your first time riding his face either...

Your face goes red but you are more excited than embarrassed. You nod and kiss him back with more fervor. “Okay… I will.”

He pulls away and finally removes his clothes. Removing his sweatpants and freeing his cock from it. Groaning softly as his cock slaps against his stomach. Precum leaking from his cock. Spreading it with his thumb from his tip to the rest and lightly strokes himself. Hissing at how sensitive his cock was from all that teasing.

Your mouth waters at the sight of him naked. His body was littered with scars but that only made him more alluring at this moment. You just wanted to kiss and nibble on each scar till he was red from all the hickeys. It always took your breath away when you watched him like this.

You lick your lips and come closer to him and give him your most innocent doe eyes and make your voice as seductive as possible. “Can I taste you?”

Leon feels his cock twitch at the request and lightly bites his lips. He was really really tempted to take you up on that offer but he had other plans…

He tilts your chin up and says. “Look at you… so eager for this cock hmm? Already want to wrap your pretty lips on it.”

You feel yourself getting more slicked from his words and eagerly nod. “Yes…please, want to suck your cock so bad…”

Leon smirks and gives a teasing kiss on your lips. “Some other time baby, want you to ride my face today.”

Your face flushes deep red and nod. “Okay…”

He grins and lays back down on bed adjusting himself with pillows under his head and motions for you to come up.

You bite your lip and slowly crawl over to him. Slowly bringing your thighs on either side of his head, hands grasping at the headboard as you position yourself over his face.

A loud groan leaves his lips as his eyes locks down at your drenched cunt. He licks his lips and feels his mouth water, he immediately grasps your hips and thighs and positions your cunt in front of his hungry mouth.

You gasp softly as you feel him suddenly shift you more and look down at how hungrily he was looking at you.

Leon moves his hands to your ass and squeezes it gently. And looks at you. “Come on baby sit. And don't hover, don't want to waste a drop of you” His words make your stomach flip. Your heart thundering in your chest as you try to come up with something to say but feel your words stuck in your throat.

You bite your lips and follow his words. And slowly sit down on his face and the moan he let's out when his tongue makes contact with your clit was downright pathetic. He immediately tightens his grip around your thighs and your ass, closing his eyes and lapping at your cunt happily.

You moan softly as you feel his tongue give you lazy, slow licks from your labia to your clit. Taking his time with it, slowly tasting through your folds. Swirling his tongue around your already sensitive clit giving it occasional tugs with his teeth.

Your body twitches above him as your moans turn into cries of pleasure. Trying to move away from his face but he grunts and grabs your ass and pulls you back in. Giving your ass a light spank, “Don't move…”

You squeal and close your eyes as you focus on his tongue, trying not to move that much. Biting your lip, one of your hands makes into his hair. He groans at the feeling of your fingers lightly threading through his hair. And pushes his tongue inside your sopping hole, slowly fucking you with it.

He moans when he feels your juices on his tongue. You always tasted like a fucking heaven to him. He could stay between your thighs all day if he could. Drinking what you had to give to him while hearing sweet chorus of whines and moans as they left your mouth, his own favorite music to listen to when he came back home from those fucked up missions.

You were his personal haven, letting him have you like this, he felt the luckiest man in the world. Feeling you tug his hair, squirming on his mouth and still riding his mouth like it was your last day on earth. He fucking loved it. He could get off on having you just like this.

Your thighs squeeze around his head and tug at his hair a bit harder than necessary pulling a groan out of him. It only encouraged him to fuck his tongue into you faster. You squealed a bit as lifted you up a bit only to feel two of his fingers enter your cunt drawing a long moan out of you. Slowly sliding in and out of you, your wet walls eagerly sucking him back in.

A loud groan leaves your lips when he starts to suck on your clit too. “Oh fuck…Leon!” Hips moving on its own, as he continues to finger you and tug at your clit. Curling his fingers inside and moving them against the spot which always made you see stars. Your body twitches and eyes roll in the back of your head as he moves his fingers faster.

His fingers constantly assaulting that sweet spot within you, sometimes slowing them down to hear your pretty whines of protest and suddenly increasing the pace just to fuck with you. Feeling your thighs squeeze around his head tightly drawing a loud groan from him, the vibrations going straight to your core and giving you an instant jolt of pleasure.

All the teasing slowly piled up and you felt that familiar band in your core just waiting to snap at any moment. You clenched tightly around his fingers. He hummed in satisfaction as he felt you do that, removing his fingers and pushing his tongue inside, wanting you to cum on his tongue instead.

He held your hips tightly to support you and let you ride his face as much as you wanted. Both of your hands going down to his hair, tugging at it while riding his face at your pace. Your clit constantly bumping against his nose making you a moaning mess above him. “Fuckkkk… Leon… feels so good… Just like that! Fuck! Yes!”

His eyes roll in the back of his head as he feels the stinging pain as you tug at his hair. Loving the pain and pleasure that came with it. One of his hands goes down to his cock and stroking himself in time with the pace that you set. Feeling himself getting closer and closer as you both kept going.

He felt he could burst at any moment just from hearing the lewd noises you both were making. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

You open your eyes, your gaze drifting to the sight of him between your legs. And it instantly brought you closer to the edge than ever. His eyes were screwed shut, focused on giving you the high you were so eagerly chasing. His grip on your ass was tight enough to leave bruises, not that you cared.

You loved seeing his marks on your body anyway.

“M’ gonna cum… so close…” you whined as you looked down at him. His eyes opened to look at the heavenly sight of you writhing above him and smirked.

He winked at you and moved his tongue faster inside you and gave you a sudden spank from the hand that was already gripping you while he stroked himself with the other.

You whine from the spank and feel that band inside you finally snap “Leon!”. He soon comes after you with a loud groan and hisses as ropes of thick hot cum fall on his thighs and abs.

Your body twitches and shakes when the euphoria flows through your body. You felt so lightweight, feeling like you could drop at any moment. Leon gently grasped your waist with one hand and the other on your thigh, slowly helping you ride through your high. And eagerly drank up every drop. Humming softly in satisfaction.

You whined softly still feeling his tongue swirl around your clit. You tried to get off of him whining softly in protest and he gently lowered you down in bed. His chin was soaked with your release as he wiped it away with the back of his hand.

He brought you close to him, pressing you against him and giving soft kisses on your forehead and cheeks. Both of you were breathing heavily in each other's arms. His soft kisses act as a soothing balm to your tired body.

You gently caressed his hair and face in return as he started to pepper kisses along your collarbone now. “Feeling good?” Leon's soft voice entered your dazed mind. You smiled lazily at him and sighed softly. “I feel amazing…”

Leon chuckled and gave a soft kiss to your crown and pulled you closer. “Good…I would be disappointed otherwise.”

You chuckled and teasingly say. “In me or yourself?” He snickered and replied “You of course. I am amazing at what I do.”

You raise an eyebrow at him and say. “And I am not?” Leon smirked and bit your earlobe playfully. “That’s up for debate…”

You scoffed, giving him an offended look at him and narrowed your eyes at him “Excuse me?”

Leon had to bite back a chuckle as he saw you trying to be serious, and he could tell that you weren't serious either. Seeing your smile threatening to take over your face.

You huff when you saw a chuckle slipping from him. “You are laughing at me aren't you?” Still keeping your eyes narrowed at him.

Leon cleared his throat, trying his best to be serious. “No, I would never laugh at you.”

You rolled your eyes at him and said. “Liar.”

Leon chuckled, shaking his head in amusement and playfully whispered. “You look cute when you are angry.”

Your eyes widened at his words and looked away from him to hide your blushing face from his comment “Whatever.”

Leon chuckled. “Uh huh… What is this then?” Poking at your red cheeks.

You pouted at him and huffed. “Nothing okay? Just shut up.”

Leon’s snickered and a mischievous grin spread on his face. “You want me to shut up? Sit on my face again and then I will think.”

Leon's smirk widened as he saw your face flush red and looking away from him, squirming slightly as you thought about doing it again. Leon squished your cheeks and turned your face back towards him and looked at you with a smug face.

“You want to sit on my face again don't you?” A knowing smug smile on his face.

Your face turned beet red as you felt yourself heat up again from his words and slowly nodded.

Leon smirked and started to kiss your neck all over again and mumbled. “So...fucking...insatiable.”

This was sure as hell gonna be a long night for both of you. But none of you had any complaints.

God. It's done. Oh my god. FINALLY. I honestly didn't expect this to take so much of my time but it surprisingly did. I guess it did cause it's my first time writing smut rather than consuming it lol.

Anyways... I hope you liked this fic. Hope it made your day!!🥰😊.

Until next time 😊❤

-Bella

#resident evil #resident evil 6 #leon kennedy #leon kennedy × reader #infinite darkness #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy × you #leon re6 #leon vendetta #reader insert #x reader #death island leon #older leon kennedy #bella fics #leon kennedy× y/n #fem reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon scott kennedy

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junipers-archive · 2 months

Note

i just read your recent Spencer Reid fic and ugh, I’m absolutely in love with your writing, do you think you could write something about him having a crush on the pilot who flies the BAU jet?

OMG sorry this is so late and it took me so long to get to this request but i hope i did it justice!! {this needs to become a consistent au on my blog!}

word count: 500

"Sorry for the delay! The maintenance engineers are just making sure the plane will be completely compliant with the controls." You're smiling brightly as you enter the cabin of the plane where sits the team you've just recently started flying for.

"I-Its really no problem! If you'd like I could help- I-I have a phd in engineering and I could-" Spencer, who you've only known for about two months now stops abruptly. Much to your dismay because the way the ends of his eyes crinkled and grin spread had butterflies swarming in your stomach.

Looking around you see why, Morgan is just barley containing his smile behind his fist, whilst Hotch has seen to busying himself with the files.

"Uh-Actually sure that would be great Dr.Reid!" You're trying to break the awkwardness but the way he gets up and trips over part of the carpet has you struggling to contain a giggle.

And he is just... starstruck everytime he see's you. Always so taken by how beautiful you look, especially in your pilots uniform.

Once you're outside once more you take the alone time as a chance to finally get to know the young doctor.

"So-uh with all the phds, I'd guess you were a professor of some kind?"

"Uh-yea-yea-well not really" he was trying his best to keep his cool but the flush that continued to return to his cheeks eveytime he was in your presence seemed persistent.

"I-I was scouted after completing my last one by the BAU and put to work with several other high functioning fbi workers-of course I skipped the well to do training in combat because-"

He stopped abruptly, which made you immediately frown. "What's wrong?"

He glances at you surprised, "Sorry, its just I tend to ramble-and it makes people uncomftorable and- and- I'm doing again aren't I?"

You stop and turn to him in a very serious manner that has him standing straighter, "You are not a burden. Do not apologize for having a brain that functions twice as fast as others. Ever."

And if he wasn't in love with you before, he definitely is now. But before he gets to quite literally confess said love or at least ask you on a date the maintenance engineers are hollering for your attention.

With a quick smile you turn to leave, but before you turn completely you see the unsettled dissapointment you're about to leave the young doctor with and decide to be a little more forward that you usually are. Stepping towards his quite fast, you give him a peck on the cheek and walk off with a grin spread wide across your face.

And Spencer, well he doesn't care that Morgan and Rossi just saw the interaction, or that he'll be teased for possibly the next years to come for the dumbfounded expression across his face at the moment because you kissed him. On the cheek maybe. But still. It counts, right?

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x you

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neiptune · 7 months

Text

on the outside of the greatest inside joke

cw: 3k wc, female reader, reader goes to therapy, enemies to potential lovers, swearing, pining, you simply can't believe the same tsukki your best friend has told you about ends up being the biggest asshole you've ever met. thank you @tetsuskei for helping me with this one!!!

blank blogs don't interact

Kenma’s pace is slow as he walks next to you, hands buried in the pockets of what is probably a very expensive jacket. He doesn’t seem fazed but you know he’s secretly pleased about the guy who stopped him right after getting off the subway, so pleased you had to gently pull him by the sleeve to remind him that it was getting late. The pout was there: no doubt, he would’ve loved to stay and spend the evening discussing fortnite strategies with a complete stranger who swore didn’t miss a single one of his streams.

“Why are you coming anyway?” he shoots you a glance from the corner of his eye “you could’ve spared yourself this torture”

“Tetsu insisted. I’m actually curious, I only ever met a few of your high school friends” you lightly nudge his shoulder with yours. He pulls a face.

“You’d like Shoyo but he couldn’t make it. The amplified version of him will be there, though”

“The amplified version?” you chuckle.

“Yeah. You’ll see”

“Stop pretending to be grumpy, I know you’re happy to see them again”

His golden eyes find your fond smile and he scoffs. “Tetsu insisted”

“Whatever you say, Kenny”

“Don’t call me that ever again”

You stick your tongue out and Kenma rolls his eyes, turns his head the other way to hide a small smile. You’re actually happy you managed to form some sort of bond with him, somehow climb over the wall of paralizing shyness that has followed him like a shadow to his current quite popular, very successful days. Tetsu loves him dearly and so do you. Whether he sees you as a friend or as a presence that doesn’t necessarily bug him, isn’t really important. Kenma likes you enough to call to ask if you’d be down to head to the apartment together and gently take the bag containing the bottle of wine you insisted on bringing from your hand. That’s more than enough.

Tetsu’s apartment is in a fancy enough condominium, at walking distance from the Omotosando station. Aoto, the concierge, knows both you and Kenma by now and you bow to each other as soon as you walk through the carriage porch to enter the complex. Sometimes you still can’t believe the little kid with perpetually scraped knees who used to collect his ball from your backyard, toothy grin so big it took over his entire face, now has a house with heated floors and a freaking mist sauna.

A foreign, boisterous laugh echoes through the empty hallway the second you step out of the elevator and Kenma meets your astonished glance with a shrug. “Told you. Amplified”

The door swings open before you have the chance to knock, your handsome, disheveled friend grinning so hard his dimples are showing. “Finally! Took you long enough!” Tetsuro pulls you in a hug to tight you groan and a laugh rumbles in his chest at your playful attempts at pushing him back.

“Are you drunk already?” Kenma gets inside with outstanding nonchalance, skilfully escaping the hand that threatens to ruffle his perfectly styled hair.

“Of course not, we were waiting for you to get the party started” you finally manage to escape his ironclad embrace but Kuroo simply refuses to let go and barely gives you the time to kick your shoes off before throwing an arm around your shoulders and quite literally pulling you inside.

There’s a small group of people crammed around the horigotatsu table in the living room. Despite his appetite for fanciness and expensive taste, Tetsu always preserved a sense of tradition that, to this day, brings him comfort. You remember the evenings spent at his grandparents’, all the dinners shared around that very same table.

“Everyone, please pay your respects to my second best friend in the entire world!” he pushes your head down in a forced bow with a grin and you swat his hand away with a chuckle.

“Oh my god, it’s you! Finally!” round, golden colored eyes that glimmer with sincere delight are suddenly in your line of vision, along with spiky grey hair and a muscular build that just screams pro-athlete.

“Hello!” you smile “I’m—”

“I know! Call me Kotaro!” he grabs your hand to energetically shake it but you can tell he’s barely containing the urge to suffocate you in a hug. Oh. You chuckle as realization suddenly washes over you. Of course you know who he is, too.

“Hi, Kotaro. You’re the first celebrity I get to meet”

He dramatically clutches his chest, astonished stare finding a very skeptical Kuroo who is looking at you with a frown.

“A celebrity. Oh, she’s wonderful. Where were you keeping her, Tetsuro? A celebrity. Keiji, did you hear that? She called me a celebrity! Can’t wait to tell Atsumu, he’s gonna hate it” Bokuto grins so wide you can’t help but mirror his genuine joy “come sit! Move over Tsukki, she’s sitting next to me” he locks his arm with yours and you slip out of your best friend’s hold with ease and a giggle. That is until Kotaro frees your sightline and you freeze on the spot as soon as your eyes find those of the last person you’d expect to find there, casually snacking on a bowl of senbei. His hand stills mid air when your gaze meets his stoic one.

“What the hell” he mutters, voice every bit as annoying as you recall. Somewhere on your forehead, a vein throbs.

“What the hell indeed” you turn to look at Kuroo with an outraged grimace distorting your features “you know him? As in he’s your friend?”

“Who, Tsukki?” Tetsuro cocks his head “yeah, of course? I’m sure I mentioned him more than once”

“That one’s Tsukki? The fun, talented, kind kohai from high school?!” it’s clear that skepticism is oozing from every syllabe and Kuroo is taken aback, mouth opening and closing like a koi fish.

“I was never his kohai” the absolutely indifferent pitch makes your blood boil.

“I wasn’t asking you”

“Hmm” the hint of a smile teases his lips “you’re being kinda rude. Again”

“Okay, I’m honestly lost here” Kuroo clears his throat but Bokuto lets out an amused laugh at complete odds with your suddenly sour mood.

“Let’s sit, so you can tell us all about the fascinating sparks that are flying here” the wink he offers is met with a grimace.

“There are no sparks—”

“You haven’t met Keiji yet! Here, give me your coat, Tetsuro will take care of it” you’re quite literally dragged to the table and then down on the floor, before you can protest or beg Kenma to sit next to you. For some foreign reason, Bokuto has you uncomfortably squeezing between him and the last person you’d want to sit next to who, for the record, is doing absolutely nothing to make room for you. Which, unfortunately, means that your leg is flush against his and your arm is dangerously close to be grazing the sleeve of his black shirt.

“This is Akaashi” Kenma, sitting across from you, politely comes to the rescue and nods toward the one stranger you haven’t been introduced to yet.

“I’m sorry” you duck your head with an apologetic smile “nice to meet you. I promise I’m usually pleasant to be around”

The little smile he tosses back supports you immensely in the grim task of ignoring the snort that comes from your left. “You wouldn’t be able to endure Tetsuro if you weren’t”

“Yes, yes, that’s enough small talk” Kuroo, hands free from your coat, arms occupied with more snacks and the wine you brought, flops down next to Kenma and narrows his eyes “tell the story”

“What story?”

Tsukishima sighs, patience already running thin. “He’s asking about us. Not really the sharpest tool in the shed, are you?”

“I see, so you’re just as much of a pain in the ass in your everyday life too. As expected” you don’t even look at him as you accept the bowl of chips a frowning Tetsuro is offering. If Bokuto’s eyebrows could shoot higher, they’d be hanging on the ceiling by now.

“What happened?” Kuroo is one snarky comeback away from imploding.

“She’s the reason why I couldn’t get my coffee this morning” Tsukishima’s bored inflection is what prompts you to finally look at him. For a second, just a split second, you’re startled. By what, exactly? You’re not sure. He’s drinking from a can of beer so the pink on his cheeks was to be expected. What wasn’t expected is the speed at which his eyes dart to you in turn. Those glasses do an awful job at hiding just how big and brown they are. Are those golden specks? You’d have to get closer to find out but that would mean breathing in more of that masculine, woody cologne. Suddenly, you’re all too aware of how hot and sturdy his thigh feels against yours.

“Well, that’s an awfully long pause” Bokuto snickers from your right and you flinch, pulling back so abruptly your back hits his chest.

Tsukishima offers another one of his enigmatic smirks.

“He’s the reason we’ve been kicked out of the coffee shop” you grumble. The skin of your face feels on fire when you meet Kenma’s skeptical stare. You know him well enough to grasp that he’s clearly assuming something entirely different than what’s to assume.

“And that’s happened how?” Akaashi’s gentle voice serves as an anchor you find yourself grabbing onto for dear life.

“I’ll tell you exactly how that happened”

The place is busy and it’s your first time trying it out. The advice came directly from your therapist: trying something new opens up the possibility to find joy in something new. And that’s precisely why you’ve been staring at the list of hot beverages, cold beverages, drinks, cocktails, mocktails, teas, iced teas and desserts hung right behind the cashier.

“Have you decided?” the woman is smiling but you can tell her eye is one second away from starting to twitch.

“Uh, not yet? I’m sorry, just a second” your eyes keep frantically scanning the options over and over again but it’s like your brain is failing to register them, palms sweaty, self-awareness gnawing at your alarmed mind.

“Can you hurry up? Some of us can’t spend the day waiting in line” the sharp, annoyed voice makes you jump and you turn around to apologize, tears practically teasing the corners of your eyes already, but you find a young man looking back at you with such an infuriating scowl that the apology dies on your tongue.

“Menu is the other way” he points an annoyingly long finger toward the wall behind you “just get a cinnamon vanilla latte with soy milk and caramel drizzle or something and let’s get going”

The condescending, bordering mocking suggestion is what infuriates you the most and suddenly all the humiliation you were feeling leaves room for nothing but rage.

“Why don’t you learn to act as a civilized being instead of a primitive asshole?”

“You have ten people who’ve been waiting for you to make up your mind for the past hour and I’m the asshole?”

“I would be done by now if you hadn’t rudely interrupted me!”

“Hey…” the cashier attempts to chime in but your anxiety and frustration are getting the better of you and this stranger is just being so unnecessarily mean.

“And, for the record, that is so not my usual order!”

His eyebrows furrow and a tiny crease appears between them, right above the bridge of his infuriatingly petite nose.

“I’m sorry if I came off the wrong way” he balances the words carefully, with a seemingly sweet inflection “truth is, I couldn’t care less about your usual order. Just order anything before we all grow collectively old here”

You let out a scoff with an incredulous smile. “You really are the biggest prick I’ve ever met”

“I’m sorry, I’m gonna have to ask you both to leave” the cashier interrupts the ridiculous quarrel and the humiliation is back in all its glory, the annoyed stares of all those standing in line suddenly burning through your body.

“I hope you’re not insinuating that any of this is even remotely my fault” the stranger is visibly experiencing utter disbelief but really, you’re done. A quick bow to the cashier and a barely uttered apology to the strangers still waiting for their turn is all you manage to put together before heading out. Oh, the entire thing is going to become such a fun conversation to have with your therapist.

“Hope you’re happy, I only arrived in Tokyo half an hour ago and I’m already out of the best coffee in Ueno” the voice, the literal stuff nightmares are made of, follows you outside and once again you are denied a very much needed crying sesh. Jesus, fuck this guy. Seriously, fuck him. So what if you took a little too long? Hasn’t he ever heard of distress? Fatigue? Just how familiar is he with the human emotional spectrum exactly?

“You may as well choke on your next coffee for all I care” you direct him a saccharine smile and the way his jaw tenses can finally count as a small win.

“How civilized of you”

“Hope you have a horrible day!” you wave and turn around to march back to your neighborhood, to your favorite cafe, to the coffee order that hasn’t let you down once in the past ten years. Phone in hand, you’re already calling Tetsuro to tell him all about your horrible, horrible morning. Only to curse under your breath when, against all odds because who the hell could he even be talking to this early, you’re met with a busy tone.

“Wait, she’s the crazy coffee shop girl you were telling me about?” Kuroo stares at his friend in complete shock and Tsukishima’s lips twitch.

“Obviously”

Bokuto lets out a low whistle. “Wow. What a heated first encounter”

“I feel like I couldn’t properly convey just how presumptuous he was” you hope you have found an accomplice at least in Akaashi, who seems the only genuinely sane person in the room and yes, that’s including you firsthand.

“There’s no need, we’ve known him since high school” he succeeds in drawing a smile and you’re grateful. You wish you were sitting next to him instead of the annoyingly-tall-even-when-seated dude who scoffs once more.

“I feel so welcome, thank god I accepted to take part in this reunion” Tsukishima finishes his beer with a single, long sip.

“Of course you’re welcome, Kei!” Bokuto leans over from behind your back to squeeze his friend’s shoulder “you just need to hone your social skills some more!”

“She gets nervous” Kenma’s calm voice cuts through the conversation and, as it usually happens, all eyes turn to him in quiet surprise “in unfamiliar situations, when she’s doing something different. She gets nervous” he doesn’t look at you, he isn’t looking at anyone really. The dorayaki tray seems to be the only one deserving his undivided attention.

There’s a pause. Tetsuro’s stare softens when he locks eyes with you.

“Yeah, that’s true. Insecurity can be easily played off as aggressiveness, did you know?” his signature smirk is back when his eyes shift to Tsukishima. The leg still pressing against yours gets suddenly stiff.

“Enough talking about me” your chuckle sounds forced and Kenma looks up from the tray “I want to know all about high school and volleyball” you avoid his gaze and refuse to meet Tetsuro’s, the giant smile tense at the corners directed at Bokuto and Akaashi only.

They indulge you. In fact, they all do, and soon enough your little dispute is forgotten and the atmosphere gets less tense. You decide to be the bigger person and, instead of pretending Tsukishima isn’t even there, you politely look at him when he talks and laugh if any playful banter rises between him and Kuroo. You don’t notice that Tsukki looks and listens too, when you’re deep in conversation with someone else or reply to Bokuto’s dumb never have I ever statements. He finds it odd that you two end up drinking almost the same amount, a list of seemingly stupid shared experiences that grows longer the more the game continues around the circle.

Tsukishima Kei doesn’t feel guilty, he’s just good at admitting to himself when he’s wrong. Not that anyone else needs to know, of course. The habit of being too quick to judge others has followed him ever since high school and it annoys him that, as an adult, he still doesn’t know better. Does he want to make this right because he’s not sure he’ll have the chance to do so again? Is the beer clouding his mind, making his body move on autopilot when he gets up shortly after you disappear into Kuroo’s kitchen? Either way, he’s there when you turn around with a tray of fresh mini sandwiches and you’re not immediately bolting by him and he thinks this would be a wonderful time for his big brain to put a few judicious words together.

But then you awkwardly shift your weight from one foot to the other and clear your throat. “I’m sorry about this morning. And for insinuating that you’re a caveman” you shrink in yourself a little, head hanging lower.

“And for hoping I choke on my next coffee?”

You snort out what almost sounds like a laugh. “Yeah, definitely. That was mean. But, honestly, you—”

“I was an asshole” he calmly interrupts, the actual apology clawing at his throat to come out to no avail “happens a lot, or so I’m told”

When you finally look up from what you’re holding in your hands and your lips curl into a smile so sincere, Tsukishima almost smiles back. What the hell.

“Let’s chalk it up to us both having a bad morning. Deal?”

He stares for a second too long, then gently offers “deal” and you leave the kitchen with a friendly nod, fully missing out on the opportunity to catch an amused twitch of the lips, honeyed gaze turning inexplicably soft.

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei x you #hq x reader

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bengiyo · 9 months

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BL 2023 Review

I wasn’t sure how I wanted to write about BL for this year. I was originally going to do a The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly framework for it, but that feels meaner than I actually am about it. Instead, I think I’ll just write out some sections and unpack some things I felt along the way.

I Watched Too Much Again

Last year I engaged with about 92 productions around the world. This year it was 99 (I tracked stuff I completed here). Sure I dropped 18 of them this year, but goddamn. The problem with watching as much as I did this year is that I worked full time this year and also maintained a separate hobby. I also continued my twice-weekly watch sessions with my friend Emily, so there are an additional 100-ish watch sessions in here of rewatching, plus a few other rewatches (Theory of Love and My Ride most notably).

One of my struggles at this point is I’m far too familiar with the genre, and find myself feeling impatient and irritable with shows that aren’t to my taste the way I used to. Throughout the late summer and fall I found myself increasingly grumpier about the genre, and it didn’t get better until I had a holiday and basically slept a day to get some energy back. I also found myself growing apart from fans I’ve known and followed a long time. It’s been a difficult year for me as a long-time fan because my tastes, habits, and friendships in the genre have changed even if the amount I watch hasn’t really.

I Wrote a Lot This Year

I recently converted my watch tag away from my gaming internet persona to just my shortname, so all near-1000 of my Stray Thoughts posts can be found under #ben watches now. I’ve also been going back and adding #ben writes to some of the standalone pieces that I really liked. In reviewing them, the pieces I’m happiest about are my ode to Framboise from Kabe Koji Nekoyashiki-kun Desires to Be Recognized, my post begging everyone to watch La Pluie, my post about what it means to actually like queer men, my SBS ep 10 post that ended up being wrong, my post about the Lavender Scare and Be My Favorite, my Tokyo in April is… post about the breaking of the BL line,

However, the two posts I am most proud of is my half-joking response about why I think tagging each other back and forth across Tumblr in our writing is so important. and The Knowing: Being Queer in BL because I had so much great conversations with folks as a result of both of these posts.

Looking back at my own blog, this is probably the most active I’ve been in my entire time on this website, so thank you to everyone who interacted with me this year, because it really is people talking to me that gets me most inspired to write things down. Big shout out to @lurkingshan who will bug me repeatedly until I blog something that I said in passing.

We Started a Podcast!

After hanging out with @shortpplfedup since Bad Buddy, she got inspired and really wanted to bring something different to the BL podcasting sphere. I had time, and liked talking with her enough, so we started @the-conversation-pod. Now we’re a full year into it and planning out future stuff. It’s been so much fun being able to get things off my soul and break poor NiNi in our recording sessions.

From this year, I think my favorite episodes we did were The Moonlight Chicken Episode, the Eighth Sense episode, the ITSAY Anniversary Episodes, The Wedding Plan episode, , and The Holiday Clip Show. Huge shout out to @ginnymoonbeam for anchoring the transcription process, and @lurkingshan for editing.

The VIIB Awards will begin airing soontm so look forward to that.

Favorite New Term: Business Gay Performance

Let’s be clear, Bump Up Business is not good. It is an obvious BL cash grab from OnlyOneOf that seeks to comment on the fake nature of BL while doing everything it can to trick the audience into believing that the BL pair is real.

Before we got deeper into this year, I was a big fan of a certain pairing, and then their fans took it too far and it affected the way I engaged with their performances and their work. I like that we have a new term for “fanservice” that communicates that you understand that this is for work. (thanks to NiNi for this comparison) I can look at the latest behind the scenes video from Last Twilight and say that I think Sea really understands the work they’re doing, and he and Jimmy have a very relaxed and mature version of BGP without feeling like I’m feeding into shipping.

Do I think they’re dating? No. Do I like the way they fake it? Absolutely!

I can look at one of @respectthepetty posts about Yin and War having personalized, color-coded mics, and we can talk about the next level BGP between the two and both communicate that we know that this is a performance.

It actually makes the extra PR work fun for me again, because now I can just shout “BGP! BGP! BGP!” and it not feel like I’m giving myself brainrot.

Thai BL Needs to Finish Stronger Next Year

Let’s get into some of the show stuff. This year was defined for me by Thai BL starting strong with good premises and then squandering them by not focusing on the details that mattered or leaning into baseless melodrama. Time for some reads. Some of these shows were generally good, but they failed at these things:

609 Bedtime Story: The world building crumpled in the back half and both endings are flat.

A Boss and a Babe: Cher is a pro gamer who worked for a gaming company and there was no plot point about this at all, or collaboration between the two groups.

Bake Me Please: Why was a show about cake so lacking in flavor?

Be Mine SuperStar: You had a real opportunity to explore a fan and idol romance and had Punn show so little growth. I hope the footage of First’s range is helpful now that Ja is out of BL.

Be My Favorite: You redid that whole amusement park date and muddled so much of what the hell happened on that day.

Between Us: You had years to make this interesting. Why are there five pairs and why is the end of this a JC Penny catalog photoshoot?

Dangerous Romance: What the fuck happened to the Sailom we had in episode 1 and 2 before that gun incident?

Hidden Agenda: Tee, what the hell was this? Twelve weeks of this?

I Feel You Linger in the Air: You may be the most beautiful show, with some of the most impressive performances of the year, but you absolutely botched this ending. Finish the goddamn season next time.

Love in Translation: I love you, but that whole kidnapping plot was so stupid at the end.

Low Frequency: I like your OST. That's about it.

My Dear Gangster Oppa: No examination about how gaming friendships become close quickly because of the combination of anonymity and teamwork (shout out to @twig-tea for this excellent summation).

My School President: Saving your gay commentary for the final episode felt like a conservative choice. I want more from you next time.

Naughty Babe: You retconned your own characters to tell a worse story. Unforgiveable.

Never Let Me Go: You didn’t know if you wanted to be a high school BL or a mafia story. It was difficult to watch.

Only Friends: I cannot believe you did Boston like that at the end. Either give Force’s character a clear personality next time, or keep him enigmatic; half measures make him and Book look worse. Sand was absolutely embarrassing. Boeing was a waste. Ending on all of them paired like that felt so unearned.

Step By Step: You forgot to ground Jeng’s external dreams at the end, so the final two episodes are just frustrating.

I’m glad I got that off my chest. We can go into the next year now.

Korea Put in the Work This Year

I really like the efforts from the various Korean studios this year. I really hope we get a Strongberry joint next year, but I want to acknowledge that we had 18 Korean BL dramas I watched this year, and at least three of them I think are must watches: Our Dating Sim, Sing My Crush, and The Eighth Sense. Beyond that, I think Love Tractor, Unintentional Love Story, and A Breeze of Love are easy recommendations.

It’s really impressive how the complaint for me this year with Korean BL is not about them using their time poorly. It’s more about normal drama concerns, where I think characterization is a little weak, or a theme doesn’t land squarely. This rapid iteration from the Korean studios is really impressive to watch, and I’m excited to see what some of the recognized players do next year.

Taiwan and The Philippines Have Been Quiet for Me

I wasn’t really able to connect with much from the Philippines this year except for The Day I Loved You. I never wrote about The Day I Loved You, but this beautiful and heart wrenching show is one of my favorites from this year. I wasn’t too keen on the Oxin Films offerings of this year, and I’m still chasing down the ones from The IdeaFirst Company.

As for Taiwan, this new BL project from the end of the year just isn’t hitting. Kiseki: Dear to Me also ended up really hurting me with the way they used Wayne Song and Huang Chun Chih. I love that angry little man with the white hair, but I’m still salty about Wayne and the general mess of that show.

Japan was Busy This Year

I watched 16 new shows, a few older ones, and a few movies this year from Japan. We haven’t gotten this much from them ever. I continue to love the Drama Shower project from MBS, and my beloved What Did You Eat Yesterday? returned this year. We had pretty stellar outings with Our Dining Table, If It’s With You, and I Cannot Reach You.

I think a third of the Japanese BL I’ve tracked on MDL actually released this year. That’s huge.

Still, I am going to side eye Minato’s Laundromat 2. You were the show that let me down the most this entire year. More than Only Friends, more than Step By Step, and even more than Kiseki. You absolutely blew it. You were telling a great story about a man with an acute case of internalized homophobia coming out of his shell and learning to love his younger partner and you blew it for stupid amnesia nonsense. I will never forgive you for this.

Where Were All the Uncles This Year?

Really, without Jim from Moonlight Chicken, and without the men from What Did You Eat Yesterday? we had an alarming dearth of older gay characters passing on knowledge and wisdom to the youngsters this year. What the hell happened?

Rare Dynamics Won: Second Chance Romance and Friends to Lovers!

We had so much second chance romance this year. It’s really my favorite version of gay romance because gays don’t always have ideal settings when they’re young. We had Our Dating Sim, Individual Circumstances, Jun & Jun, The End of the World With You, Tokyo in April is…, Be My Favorite, Love Class Season 2, and A Breeze of Love. I am satisfied.

Friends to Lovers is actually so rare in romance and we have so many to choose from this year! The best examples are I Cannot Reach You and Sing My Crush, but we also have one of the pairs in Love Class Season 2.

Gay Thoughts

I had a couple of ongoing thoughts this year about queerness in BL.

First, I want to return to my post about Sing My Crush and La Pluie, and how I assert that Men Need to Be Angry Sometimes. More than giving men grace to be righteously angry or upset about things, along with letting them express it in ugly ways, I really want to get into how we engage with these shows. I will stop engaging with moralistic reads on characters in 2024. I will no longer engage with asks, reblogs, or meta gripping the fandom where we're judging the moral fiber of the character.

The question that really only matters for me at this point is: Is this act from the character justified from their characterization, the narrative, or genre conventions; and is it interesting? Whether or not the character is good or bad reeks of the lame arguments about good and bad representation, and I am not watching BL like I’m being graded in Sunday school.

The second thing I really want to acknowledge at the end of the year is that the gay sex is finally getting better again. I watched The Novelist this year, and we have taken so long to get back to the space that show took us on the portrayal of male-male intimacy. We are in the genre about people with dicks. It should feel like it. There should be a masculine component there that feels specific to queer intimacy.

I will acknowledge 2 Cutie 2 Pie, A Boss and a Babe, Be Mine SuperStar, Bed Friend, Candy Color Paradox, For Him, I Cannot Reach You, Kiseki: Dear to Me, La Pluie, Love Class 2, Love in Translation, Love Mate, Middleman’s Love, Naughty Babe, Only Friends, The End of the World With You, Tokyo in April is…, and Wedding Plan for your contributions.

Final Thoughts

I like how broad the genre felt this year, and I enjoyed how much speculative fiction is entering into the conversation. I don’t know how I feel about there being five vampire stories in the works next year, but overall I’m glad that we’re getting more experimental concepts. I’m burnt out on the college engineering BL, and would like to see more shows about working adults.

Despite how grumpy I was for at least three months, I think this has genuinely been one of the best years we’ve ever had in the genre. I made a lot of new friends in BL this year, and I’m excited to see what comes next. Thank you all for spending some of your time with me this year and I’ll see you in the next one.

#Ben writes #best of bl 2023 #bl series #thai bl #japanese bl #taiwanese bl #filipino bl #korean bl #ben watches

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kyomaakuma7 · 1 year

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After a very long break I’ve come to finally say my share. For those who want to know in more depth how I feel about the full situation I am writing it down below.

Thank you for everyone who sent kind messages and comforting words and thank you most to my good friend @thisanimatedphantom and Kou who supported me through these hard times.

My statement on the Situation

When I started in Inky Mystery, I never thought that it would get me to where I am today with the friends that I have now. When I was first introduced to it, and reading it I was immediately entranced into the story and wanted nothing more but to illustrate it since I had already planned to remake the original. Seeing such a well-crafted story I knew that this would be the story that I would illustrate. (And TAP knows how much work and behind the scene illustrating I’ve been doing from character turnarounds, layout design, alphabet style, and etc.)

Soon I made the first blog and received overwhelming support which I had not originally imagined would come with making my first post, and to that I am grateful. Soon I befriended the author of InkyMystery as our friendship grew, so did the attention that I received with the comics that I was illustrating for them. Unfortunately deleted against my wishes, and after trying to get it back to no avail I created a new blog where I had to restart from the beginning. This process was not easy and for those who know me, I was completely devastated by the fact that I had lost that account. After making my new account with the support of TAP I started my journey again.

Unfortunately with the positive attention comes negative attention. Soon the posts started to gain traction again, and people started to come under the assumption that I was TheGreatRouge making their come back. What people failed to acknowledge and do was to do further research on was whether or not I actually was. As you can assume I am not them. In fact, I do not like TheGreatRouge. Their content was some thing that I consumed in great mass when I was younger, but soon realized that a lot of the things that they made were toxic and I distanced myself from that. Since then, I have gained certain opinions from on this creator. Nonetheless, I do not find it acceptable that people are taking this approach, even if they do think that I am them.

The words that were said to me in my inbox, comments, and direct messages are not things that I will repeat here. What you should know is that a lot of these things were pertaining to me being a disgusting vile human who should take my own life. As someone who struggles with depression, this was a personal hit to home and it cause my mental health to decline drastically. And I spent days going through and deleting these.

At first, I did not speak out on the issue and distance myself from my friends until eventually I came back and told them what was happening. TAP felt for me and as you may know when they made a post about it which I appreciate greatly along with comforting me and encouraging my break.

I took a long break from working on the comic, along with interacting with the community which worried a lot of people, but it was necessary for me to do since it was harming me so much. I am officially coming back and I will be more active on this account since I don’t have to follow it as a mainly Inky Mystery account.

My final statement on the situation is that even though I am not TheGreatRouge under no circumstances is it acceptable to tell somebody to take their own life or attack somebody on social media just because your beliefs do not align with theirs. No matter how wrong it is, it is not acceptable. If you think that doing those things are OK then you’re not welcome in my space. Please leave.

Thank you and I hope to continue doing this since I love it so much <3

-Sincerely, KyomaAkuma

#bendy #bendy and boris in the inky mystery #bendy and boris the quest for the ink machine #quest for the ink machine #cuphead #bendy the demon #bendy the little devil darling #inky mystery

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sophieinwonderland · 20 days

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https://www.tumblr.com/astrothetherian/760288573601808384/astro

And of course people do not want to listen to the truth about this. Anyways, is what they said true? Although even if it is, it does not automatically invalidate the truth of what was said in the emails and such. I suppose I am unfortunately giving up on replying now. @aimee-if-tulpa is my side blog btw. I just wanted to share my interaction with this person with you.

First, sorry that you've had to deal with Astro.

As for the claims, it's honestly impossible to verify how true they are, and we're only given one side of the story since Ross isn't legally allowed to speak on the allegations due to HIPAA.

While it's likely that some of the claims are true, such as the overmedication (though I don't know enough about those medications to say,) the false memory accusations are likely bogus, and were only pushed by the patient after contacting the False Memory Syndrome Foundation, a group founded by accused child molester Peter Freyd to defend other accused child molesters. This group had a major role in convincing this patient that dissociative identity disorder wasn't a real disorder and that her memories were implanted by Ross.

And I think sysmeds need to be really careful about trying to discredit a DID expert who supports endogenic systems with sources that are supporting the iatrogenic theory of multiplicity, which argues DID is caused by therapists and trauma memories are fake.

Having said all of this, the fact that anti-endos are using these sorts of ad hominems to discredit the emails of a DID expert isn't surprising to me. In fact, SAS DM'd me about the emails the day before he posted them and shared a screenshot. This was what I told SAS then:

I will say, if I'm assessing the outcome though… this is Ross. If I know anti-endos, the counter narrative they'll end up settling on will probably be trying to attack Ross's credibility. And he has some big vulnerabilities there. Yes, he's one of the foremost experts on DID and trauma but they'll say he also thinks he can shoot lasers out of his eyes. And then there was that malpractice lawsuit… Ross has enough weaknesses that someone trying to discredit him can easily exploit those. At least enough to convince their friends he's not reliable. But weaknesses or not, he still IS a dissociative expert and that counts for a lot!

I'm honestly surprised it took them so long to reach this particular narrative. I actually expected it to happen within the first week but it took a solid month before I first started seeing it spring up.

In the end, whatever issues Ross may have had in the past, this is an expert in DID who has over 40 years of experience specializing in the disorder who is saying you can be multiple with a disorder. And sysmeds, for their part, are still unable to cite even one single doctor saying you can't be plural without trauma.

#syscourse #pro endogenic #pro endo

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dulcewrites · 1 year

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Fool Me Once (part 10)

Summary: As tensions arise in King’s Landing, you make moves to assure the safety of your children. Final breaths are taken, pacts are made and broken, steel is drawn and the dragons dance.

Warning: mentions of stillbirths/pregnancy issues, allusions to self harm, some unreliable narrator if you squint. In our f&b bag fr!

A/N: you guys 🥺 we are finally on the last part. First, I want to say I am sooooo sorry about how long it took to get this one out. By the time I’m posting this I’m sort of like, do people even still care lmao 💀. Life has been hectic and tbh I’ve been putting some focus onto other things. Shameless plug to my other, more happy Aemond x oc series, on ao3. As well as I’ve gotten so much amazing feedback and interactions about this fic that I was slightly worried about how people would take the end. Speaking of feedback, and moving on to the more sappy stuff. My writing side blog has grown exuberantly since posting part 1 of fmo last year. It genuinely makes me emotional thinking about the little community that’s come from it. I hope to continue to make more stuff that I’m not only happy with, but further pushes said community ❤️❤️ if y’all have any hotd request let me know. Please reblog, like, and comment. As well as come chat in my inbox if you see something you like.

Slight housekeeping, though if you made it this far you probably already know. This fic does change the dance for self indulgent reasons (lol) and for the narrative of it all. This started as a cheating story and has sort of spun into something entirely else.

Fmo masterlist

Blog masterlist

Ninth moon of 129 AC

Rhaenyra’s voice could be heard from down the hall.

You wanted to reassure yourself that you had heard those screams before from Helaena, or even from yourself giving birth. But there was something so terribly guttural about the ones Rhaenyra was making.

As if outcome of the birth hung in the air. Lingering with the ghost of the past death that happened in the Red Keep. You try not to focus on the sheer look of panic on Jace’s face once you leave him at the door.

By the time you got to her chambers, Rhaenyra is already surrounded by midwives as she is hunched over, palms spread out against the wall. Midwives, and Alicent, whose face was terribly pale. Almost as drained of color as Rhaenyra. Her normally straight blonde hair wavy and stuck to her forehead with the sheen of her own sweat.

Alicent spots you, and gets away from her position from around her. She pulls you over to the side, but before she can even speak you interrupt her. The midwives begin to move Rhaenyra from her standing position to on the bed.

“Has this happened before,” you watch as Rhaenyra pleas lessen and lessen, her state becoming more sedated than what is probably normal.

Alicent shakes her head. Her auburn curls had been released for the night from the tight updo they were in earlier.

“No, at least not the first three,” she swallows hard before coming closer to you. “I fear - I fear this labor may go awry. I think we need to make preparations for if…”

The words catch in the back of Alicent’s throat. She is here with Rhaenyra; she has always been with Rhaenyra. Even when they were at odds; two ghosts haunting each other’s memories. Two sides of the same coin, causalities of the cruel fate. You want to feel sorry her; knowing that she is watching a close… companion go through this, but your mind has been elsewhere since earlier that day.

“Your son has made preparations,” you cross your arms. “All of them actually.”

Alicent brows furrow in confusion, and it dawns on you that Aemond and Aegon never clued their mother in on their little plan.

“You do not know, do you?”

“No, I do not know what your husband has been getting into. I rarely do these days.”

You and her both.

Rhaenyra lets out another groan.

“Where is Daemon,” you ask as Rhaenyra begins to mumble things incoherently to the midwives.

“He took one look at her, and left the room,” Alicent frowns. “She called for him but he went to get Jacaerys instead.”

And Jace came for you on the behest of Alicent. Tis the way of men you suppose. Often, they are absolute nuisance in situations like this, but you could not help but think that mayhaps if Daemon had stayed to seen her in this state, he would not put her through such things again. But that is giving him far more credit than you know he deserves.

“Alicent,” Rhaenyra manages to mumble out the name louder. Her eyes fluttering open and shut.

Alicent instantly rushes over, dropping the conservation she has started with you.

As you watch Alicent coax Rhaenyra through this, her words ring out. Though she did not elaborate on what those plans should be, she was right. Aemond had taken the reigns from your hands plenty times before. Safety will not be completely ensured until any threat is taken out. You have never been to battle nor war, and even you know that. A slightly morbid thought creeps into your head.

If Rhaenyra dies, Aegon could descend the throne.

It was laughable for Rhaenyra, or anyone who supports her claim, to believe known bastards would follow her in the line of succession. Or that Daemon would not bypass Rhaenyra’s first three boy in order to ensure power for her last two. It would mean an all-out war between Aegon and Daemon… but maybe it did not have to go that far. Not if plans were made to undercut whatever moves you know Daemon could put into place.

They are all back in King’s Landing, no longer under the false tranquility they tried to spin at Dragonstone. Amongst their patrons who already have much to say about Rhaenyra’s still short reign.

Aegon on the throne would ensure the safety of all of the kids. And not only the kids, but the kingdom as a whole. A war of succession, especially including dragons, would only bring destruction. Rhaenyra’s boys would have a chance to swear obeisance after Daemon is out of the way, and if not, their presence will not be needed. Bastard blood being spilt is nothing compared to the life your children.

They could go back to Dragonstone and live their lives out there with young Egg and Viserys. With the possibility of Daemon for a father, they would be better off for it.

Your thoughts are broken by the midwives telling Rhaenyra to try and push.

There was already a significant amounts of blood trailing where Rhaenyra had been. Her pushes do little to soothe the position she is in. In frustration and pain, eventually Rhaenyra, much to the chagrin of the midwives and Alicent, shoos them all away. Reaching down to pull the babe out herself.

Letting out an already grief-stricken scream as she does it.

The air is sucked from the room as a gush of blood rushes out of Rhaenyra, followed by a tiny body.

A tiny… silent body. Wrapped in scales and slightly deformed.

No one speaks as they watch Rhaenyra pick up the baby from between her legs and rocks it as if trying to lure it into crying, into breathing. But nothing comes. Just silence, and the aches of a daughter stuck in the self-fulfilling prophecy of a mother that is no longer around.

It is not proper nor lady-like, and you can hear your own mother’s voice in the back of your telling you how rude it is in a time like this, but you just turn and leave. Without a word or peep. Suddenly feeling sick you go back down the hall, back to your chambers. Ignoring Jace who calls your name out in confusion by the sudden silence coming from his mother’s room.

By the time you make it back to the room, Aemond had gotten himself ready for bed. Completely casual as if the events earlier meant nothing to him.

“What’s happened,” he notices your ashen face.

You take one look at your husband, you think of your children away in a place foreign to them, and the stillborn baby Rhaenyra clutched in her arms.

The bile comes up quick. So quick you barely make I to the basin on the other side of the room. The dry heaving reminds you that you barely ate anything today, too worried about the task at hand.

You flinch when you feel a cold hand on your back. Shrugging Aemond’s hand off, you turn head with a glare.

“You made your move,” you mutter. “I’ll give you that. But now we are going to this my way. And Aemond, so help me, a single hair on those kid’s heads is harmed and I am not with them, I burn it all to the ground, you with it.”

You don’t know how and when, but you would do it for them if it came to that. You’d do anything for their safety. It may be time for others to realize that.

— — —

Princess Visenya Targaryen is set on the pyre a day and a half later. A small swaddled body lit on fire once Rhaenyra croaked out the words. Syrax blowing a mighty flame to burn Rhaenyra’s only little girl.

She was advised to stay in bed. Though her outward physical ailments had started to heal, it was clear Queen Rhaenyra was sick. Pale skin still prickling with sweat despite the cool air outside, dark bags starting to form under her eyes as she leans gently against the cane she was given.

You stand next to Aemond, Helaena, and Aegon. The only warm you feel from the fire in front on you.

It was slightly shocking when Helaena came up to you before the funeral with guilt written over her soft features.

“I just had… a funny feeling about the kids being here. I’m sorry.”

She knew.

You were not happy about once again feeling like you’re on the outside looking in with people you are supposed to call family. At least Helaena had the decency to feel ashamed by the omission. The decency to apologize. Guilt and Aemond is laughable being in the same sentence, and Aegon had been avoiding you. A thing that has not happened in months. Helaena was always right about these things; the scary part is that you all never really knew till the outcome already happened.

You run your hand over your black mourning dress. Peering out from under your veil, you make eye contact with Daemon across the fire.

Normally mirth filled eyes, and folly written all over his face had been replaced by an emptiness that scared you. Often, you had felt the unearned confidence and ambition around you was just noblemen living up to an expectation put on by others around them. But a Daemon, already known for his rogue behavior, feeling emboldened by the death of his brother, daughter, and the newly weakened state of his wife, made you nervous.

Only compounded when you think about the conversation shared at Dragonstone. Your loyalty was not expected, but even demanded. You can’t help but wonder if the kids not being around has only put a fiercer target on your back, or even on theirs.

You look over at Aegon - messy hair, bored expression, purple circles under his eyes. But he is no worse for wear compared to Rhaenyra.

If it one thing you have learned since being around this family, it is appearances often make up for everything. Slap a smile and nice outfit on, and people tend to believe what they see versus what is underneath the surface.

The funeral ends, and you make a sharp beeline towards Otto.

“I need to run something past you.”

You rake your knuckles against Aegon’s door, and get reply in return. You do it again, this time with more vigor, slightly embarrassed at Ser Arryk just watching you pound away.

“He is in there,” you question, turning to him.

“The last time I checked, he was my lady.”

The last time he checked?

You supposed not ever sworn protector can be as diligent as Quinton, and not every subject can be well behaved.

“Aegon,” you knock once more.

Blowing out frustrated air through your mouth, you turn to go but the door eventually swings open.

His hair is crumpled on one side, shirt unbuttoned, and reeking of wine. It had not hit you that he may be with someone.

“If you are… predisposed, I apologize. I can come back”

A dopey grin breaks out of face, before he hitched the door open wider. “No one is with me. Oh, dovelet were you worried about that?”

You look over to see Arryk raise a brow at you. You push at Aegon, further annoyed. “Go.” Forcing him back into his chambers.

“Everyone is so touchy today.”

You were there, before the funeral, when Alicent fussed at him about going to it. About trying to look engaged, which he clearly did not. You think about the conversation you had with Otto in his office.

“He is not going to like it. He has long come to terms with not wanting to be king.”

“But his wants are of no concern to you now, are they?”

When put that way, you can’t help but feel a bit bad. But it is true. What Aegon wants right now means little to you. He will eventually learn to like it, and if not like it, he will learn to tolerate it. The way others have to tolerate their fate in life. We are all stuck in the same miserable cycle; the only difference is some of us will not be able to call ourselves King of the Seven Kingdoms.

“We need to talk about some things.”

“Black is one your colors,” he changes the subject. “You should wear it more often.”

“Aegon, I’m serious,” you pinch your nose.

“Is this about the kids? I thought you would be happy they are out of harm’s way.”

“They are not out of harm’s way,” your voice raises, and this is not going the way it was supposed to.

You must push him with a gently hand. A woman’s touch.

There was a something slimy about how Otto ended the conversation. Sending you to Aegon to enact a woman’s touch… whatever that meant.

“But they could be,” you lower your voice. “If - If there was someone else at the helm. None of us would have to worry about their safety. About our safety.”

Aegon give you a funny look before flopping down on his bed.

He is drunk so he may not remember any of this by next morning. You sit next to him on the bed.

“There is no running from this. Despite what you may say, you know you would not be able to live with yourself if you left your family, your kids. Aegon, you are too smart not to know what this is all coming to.”

Though not something you voiced yourself, running was an option that crossed your mind. Finding a way out to Oldtown, grabbing your kids, and running. The logistics seemed all to wash away when the word dragon comes along. Traveling with two young kids would be difficult enough, managing to travel discretely with a giant dragon would not work. You don’t know how you would tell Daella to leave Vermithor.

And then a chill would run up your spine. Where could you go where he would not find you on dragon back?

The two of you sit in silence before Aegon sighs softly.

“Share a drink with me,” Aegon whispers. “Before we all die.”

It makes you laugh. Because that is all you can do at the folly that is your life. You nod softly.

The wine is a Dornish Red. Sweet, warm, and sultry tasting drink. It reminds you of the look Aegon is giving you.

Alicent peaks her head into the door.

“Rhaenyra,” she sees baby Aegon and Viserys sitting on their mother’s bed. Both babbling away over each other. Rhaenyra weakly waves her in. Both Egg and Viserys give Alicent tiny little bows. They do it to everyone, even those who technically do not have the same amount of power toddlers do. Bowing at guards, nursemaids, and court members alike.

The boys are eventually escorted out by one of the maids, but not until they both tell Alicent about the flock of lizards they found in the garden. It’s sweet, Alicent thinks. Reminds her of when her kids were that age. Not yet tainted or disrupted by the life around them. Alicent supposes she also has herself to blame for that when it comes to own children.

Both boys not understanding the position their mother is in. She knows that Rhaenyra is grateful at least two of her kids are not aware of her vulnerable state.

“How are you feeling,” Alicent sits at the edge of the bed next to her, taking in scattering of notes around Rhaenyra. Members of Rhaenyra’s small council have written notes for Rhaenyra to read while she is abed. From things as simple as the mouse problem in the Red Keep to things more serious. Like the Shepherd’s continued teachings; this week sermon’s going as far to say the death of the Visenya was an act of the Gods. That this is Rhaenyra’s punishment. Punishment for the dragon, the incest, the Targaryen of it all.

Alicent makes sure to only visit Rhaenyra when she knows she will not run into Daemon. He flaunted around the castle as if he has never left. Still the same air of arrogance and fire, only now swathed under a layer of coolness. The passing of Viserys, clearly leading him in a quieter path.

So many awful things lead back to that man. Alicent is sure of it.

All Rhaenyra can do is give a small smile and the shake of the head.

“A bit better now that you’re here.”

Alicent just ducks her head shyly.

Rhaenyra was always good at that, making Alicent feel like she was a girl again. Ten and four and completely out of her depth when it came to her feelings. An issue she worries she still has not gained control over.

“I am thinking of naming Daemon protector of the realm,” she then croaks out. “I do not know how much I can get done while in this bed. Watching it all crumble beneath me.”

Naivety. It is the only word that comes Alicent’s mind when it comes to how Rhaenyra handles Daemon. Ironically, it is the same way Otto describes her relationship with Rhaenyra. Her father never forgets a chance the remind her the nostalgia of girlhood, and security she wraps in Rhaenyra. The same way Alicent does not know if Rhaenyra has convinced herself that Daemon’s will head her council above anyone’s else is her true feelings, is the same way Alicent does not know if she holds onto the good parts of Rhaenyra because they still exist. Or because without holding onto them, she would be again flailing and alone. Once again left with the cold, empty feelings that comes with duty above else.

The only person Alicent saw ever cut Daemon down to size is now dead, rotting and finally silent. If Rhaenyra thinks the bond, she had with Daemon is anything more than him trying to hold onto the last semblances of Viserys he could find, she has been sorely mistaken.

“Mayhaps, you should speak that over with the rest of your council,” she pushes the duvet further over Rhaenyra. It is not her job to advise. She doesn’t know if she has it in her advising another clueless monarch. Another seemingly well meaning, but headstrongly clueless monarch. Rhaenyra gets her same propriety from her father.

Rhaenyra is not a bad person. The same way many people would say Viserys was not a bad person. But when all things are said and done, Viserys will be remembered as peaceful. Alicent worries history will not give the same charitable read to Rhaenyra. Who fumbles and doubles down on her bad actions in the way she learned from her father. Terribly misguided in each path they take, paying no mind to the carnage left behind.

Too much trust in Daemon. A fault both will have to live with or die by.

“Everything will be fine, once I recover,” she takes note of Alicent’s distant eyes. “It will be alright.”

You look so much like your father when you lie to me. So much like him with false hope and no tact. They riot in the streets over your reign already, and you are sure it will be alright.

Alicent just squeezes Rhaenyra’s hand. The way she used to when she used to get the urge to pick at her hands. She looks around the room. Rhaenyra, now laying in the same bed her father did before her. Alicent just hopes the morbid memories of Viserys do not haunt her in the way Aemma’s ghost still haunts Alicent to this day.

Aemma was right, and they did not even know it at the time. The birthing bed was their battlefield. And it feels like it is all catching up to them.

It has been a few minutes since your parents welcomed you into their parents, and in those few minutes your mother has done nothing but pick at your hair and fret over your outfit.

The sun was at its height in the sky, brightness peaking through their windows. This morning you woke up, and did what have for the past couple of days. Remember your children are not there for you to kiss and hug, and look over at your sleeping husband. Multiple ways of smothering him popping into your head.

“Wearing your hair back makes you look so severe, my darling,” she fiddles with bun. Your hand goes up the move it way. “And grey is not slimming on everyone.”

“Yes mother,” you try to grin and bear like you have always done. Your resolve faltered when she gushed about how lovely of a father Aemond was for wanting the kids to spend more time with their uncle, the excuse the both of you had parroted whenever someone asked here Daella and Alaric were.

“I think it may be best, if both of you go back home,” you sit both of them down. “I just worry that things may get a bit hectic, and I would feel better if you both were far from it.”

They both give you a curious look. There is only so much you can say without giving all away. Your father gets up and pulls you to the side.

“There has been… rumblings,” he mutters. “About the Queen and her state.”

He chooses his words wisely. As if he was worried others are listening.

“I want you to know that whatever path may arrive. The full backing of the house is behind it. Your uncle and I will make sure of that. If there was a change in power.”

Tears pinch and sting your eyes. It should be reassuring but it only makes you realizing that backing comes at the whim of others. This will always come back to who is ruling, and who people think should rule.

That is why you married Aemond right? To be put in the best position for your house.

“Thank you, father.”

He kisses you on the cheek, before leaving. You turn towards your mother who sits on the bench in front of the bed.

“I do hope your little excursion has renewed your spirit,” she gets up. “Your husband seemed just beside himself after you left. No wife, no children around. I can only imagine how hard that was for him.” You just stand there as she comes towards you. She stares at you for a moment, taking in your new dark dress, and hair. You cannot tell if the look is unimpressed, or filled with sadness. Your mother’s faces tend to blur together into nothingness.

“Of course, that is what you took from it,” you mutter.

“What was that, lamb?” Another hand runs over your hair.

“Nothing, mother.”

Your mother laughs a bit, in that cold, jilted way she does. The joy never reaching her eyes.

“It’s always been that way. Sweet with him, distant with me.”

You stare at her in slight shock, slight mortification when she leans back. Is that how she’s read the situation? You choosing your father over her. Not the paralyzing fear that came with having to please her. The heart arching want to make her proud of you, even at the expense of your own wants.

“You made it that way. I - you sent me away to - to this place and -“

“Oh, here we go. You got married to a Prince, you had your babies, and I am still the evil mother.”

She bows her head as is she about to cry. Initiatively, you put a hand on her shoulder.

“You’re not evil,” you don’t understand how the conversation how switcher so fast. How now you have to the one to comfort her. “We just don’t see certain things the same way.”

An understatement.

“Mayhaps, I was never meant to be a mother,” she looks up, eyes dry. She says it so casually.

“What?”

“I should have taken the hint after the first miscarriage. But your father just begged and begged about wanting a child.”

You just watch in horror.

She runs another hand over your hair, nagging on the bun and frowns.

“Some women just aren’t meant to be mothers. Too headstrong for it, too weak for it,” there is an air of pity when she says it.

She leans in, and her breath hits your ears. “Be careful, my lamb. The softer the heart, the harder the fall.”

You swallow hard. She’s fed a poison that is hard to be weaned off.

— — —

Leaving the room, in a slight daze. Softly shuffling the opposite way of your chambers, and up the large stairs. You had promised Rhaenyra you would come see her soon.

The only thing that breaks you out the trance is the heavy footsteps of Daemon. You stop and lower your head in acknowledgment.

“My prince, I have not been able to catch you to give my condolence.”

Daemon hums. You’ve noticed how he walks around with Dark Sister attached firmly on his hip. Sometimes sheathed, other times unsheathed as he leans against as some sort of crutch.

“I suppose I should be sending you sorrows too,” a small smile on his face. You tilt your head in confusion.

“Your children.”

Your blood runs a bit cold.

“They are just with their uncle. Taking it the beauty of Oldtown. We want them to see many parts of the realm.”

“With Vermithor?”

You just nod. “You must know how important the bond is between dragon and dragon rider. More importantly during these early stages.”

Daemon’s mirth grows as he comes closer. “I do remember our conversation. About how your loyalty would be not only expected but rewarded. I would absolutely hate to see anyone get hurt, especially as our queen is recovering.”

You smile, brightly and sound.

“Of course, it would be quite a shame if anyone was putting their own needs ahead of Queen Rhaenyra’s. Those close to her must be diligent, and kind.”

The two of you exchange more fake smiles before he steps around you, sword glistening under the flicker of flames in the hallway.

Trying to compose yourself as you make your way to the master chambers. You are slightly relieved by the changes that were made by the time Rhaenyra arrived and settled in. The model Viserys spent even his last days speaking about that collected dust had been removed. Different drapes that let the sun in, the furniture moved around a bit, and the smell. Thank Gods, the smell was different.

The smell of rotting, and noxious air replaced by something a little sweeter. You know that Alicent would come in daily and light different incense for Rhaenyra.

The guards let you in, and she is still in the same place she, day after day, the large canopy bed. The bed you see Viserys lay in as you visit him with Daella and or Alaric.

“Rhaenyra,” you pull back the certain a bit, to let light in. “Have you eaten today?”

You walk over and lay a hand on her forehead. She is burning up. Her fever spiking again. All you get is a groan and the shake of the head.

“Rhaenyra, you need to eat something.”

She just gestures toward the table. Different tonics, drinks, and glasses on top of it. You walk over to see tea as well as a familiar milky substance on it.

You remembered seeing how Viserys was when he was on milk of the poppy. Hells, you understood the strength of it, and you only took it while having Daella and Alaric.

It was the beauty and ugliness of the drug once it was taken too much. The pain was gone, but then came a new problem - the grogginess of the mind and withdrawals.

“The Queen only needs five dops of it,” said the maester, a sour look on his face once asked to leave when you visited her a few days ago.

In all her paranoia, Rhaenyra had asked only those closest to her to help administer it. Not trusting the maesters the very same way she did when it came to Viserys. Out of part guilt of what she just went through, and frankly fear, you agreed when she asked you. But now, as you feel the tides changing once again for the battle for power, your hands shake a bit applying the remedy to her tea.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five….. Six. Seven. Eight.

Before you can change your mind, you a twist cap back on the milk of the poppy.

You walk back to the bed, giving a pale Rhaenyra a strained smile. “Let’s sit you up.”

Rhaenyra winces, eyes in a faraway stare as you help her lean up in the bed. The same bed she had been beholden to for the past week. You bring goblet to her lips and watch her all but chug most of it.

A part of you wants to say a prayer to the Father. Perhaps he will forgive you for all that will happen beyond this point. Understanding how stray animals often act when they are backed into a corner. Teeth bared and fighting for their lives.

She will name him Protector of the Realm if she stays abed any longer. Despite the mistreatment, Daemon has always had a way about him when it came to Rhaenyra. I have no way to stop it. Did not back then, and do not now.

Guilt only mounts when you think about the sadness in Alicent’s eyes when she said that. But then you think about your daughter’s laugh or the wide-eyed innocence of your son, and the guilt fades. All that is left is resentment. A deep hole where you think your heart used to be.

You have to shudder thinking about anyone from this family sitting the throne but at least you know some options are more… malleable than others.

“I can come back to give you more when you need it,” you brush a stray hair behind Rhaenyra’s ear. “Maybe I can read to you too.”

She gives you a tired smile, and nod before her eyes begin to flutter. You watch as her breathing labors as she drifts into a hazy state. In and out of sleep. Here she lays, a victim of the birthing bed like her mother. Ill equipped, and far too foolish to see the damage she will leave behind like her father.

“What is all of this?”

You walk into your chambers to find a table of food in the room. Aemond hops up from the bed. You take a look at the array of breads, and sweets on the table.

“All this for me,” you question, popping one of the lemon candies on a lemon cake in your mouth. “How romantic. The last time I had the pleasure of such a spread, you were telling me you got your mistress pregnant and it sent me into excruciating labor.”

Aemond face falls, and for a moment you understand what it has been like for him the past few years of marriage. To hold power over him, even if it is small and fleeting in the moment. Dangling kindness in front of his face to rip it away for no reason other than you can.

You continue to pick at the food, as Aemond just stares.

“Are you gonna say what this all about or just stare with that silly look on your face?”

His face flashes from sad stoicism something a bit angrier. Ah, that’s your husband.

“I am trying to mend things with you, and all I ge-“

“Oh, that is your first mistake,” you hold up a finger. “Well, not the first. You know your first. But trying to mend something that was never there to begin with? And with food that I could get myself. You’re smarter than that Aemond,” you tut at him.

“So, what now? We spend the rest of our days hating each other?”

If we even get that far.

“It has worked for others,” you shrug.

“It won’t for you,” he rebuts. “The hate will eat you alive. You’ll be miserable.”

Promise?

He speaks as if he is so sure of it. As like Helaena does at times, he has seen into a murky future, and pulled this out. You utterly miserable as you let that dark voice in your head play out all your morbid desires.

“But you would like that, wouldn’t you,” you think about the look he gave you when you wanted to reach for his knife. “Why else would you put through all of this but to make me as miserable as you are?”

It hang on the tip of your tongue. You could push you luck again, and tell him that she is gone, and never to be seen again. Twist the knife that you already have point at his back. But then you would have to be sure of things yourself. Dreams have dissolved into nightmares. Blood mixing the salty water of Dragonstone.

Then you wake and Otto’s words ring in your head. He took care of it. Now you are left trying to sort out the mess of memories that makes up your head. Guilt, anger, and sadness all managing fuck with your head in ways you could not imagine.

You eye the wine on the table. As much you admonish Aegon for it, you do get why he turned to it from such a young age.

The few hours of solace it gives is wonderful. Fleeting but necessary when everything else becomes too loud. Too much.

“It was not an absence in you. It was one in us… in me,” he looks so young when he says it. It almost reminds you of him when he ten and five. Fresh off a growth spurt. Terribly shy, terribly distant. But that was before. Before the expectation of marriage, of children and semblances of loyalty and care.

That boy is gone, and you are surely not the girl you were once you came to King’s Landing. You mourn that girl, the way you mourn the boy Aemond was before he lost his eye. You did not know him then but you always wonder what strings in him broke when that happened. An unjust act with no reconciliation to follow. If any of that led up to the man standing before you today.

“Well, at least that is something we can agree on,” you look down, trying to get rid of the hot tears in your eyes.

You have spent time trying to build up an armor in front of him. You’d hate to have it crack now.

“My grandsire told me about your little plan.”

It makes you look up. Aemond’s arms are crossed in skepticism.

“Your sister’s health is declining rapidly. Aegon needs to ready himself for this.”

“And he has agreed?”

“Your brother will fall in line as he realizes this is the only way to keep those dear to him safe,” you fiddle with the chocolate tart. “He already has actually.”

Helaena and him took a trip to one of the orphanages down in the Red Keep. It is about time people outside of this castle get a look at those in power. Aemond still does not look convinced.

“Does that upset you? The thought of him being king?”

“No more than it does having my useless sister or foolish nuncle on the throne.”

“What, no mention of the bastards technically in front you for the throne right now,” you think the joke falls flat till Aemond narrows his eye, and tilts his head to side in merriment. You have to do a bit of double take at the slight smirk on his face.

“You danced with one of those bastards.”

So, he remembers that.

“A tactical move,” you roll your eyes. “And when I advise Rhaenyra and Jacaerys that he should go back to Dragonstone as the new heir to the Irone Throne and Prince of Dragonstone, it would have payed off.”

“Leaving Rhaenyra as she’s abed, and stuck with Daemon? How would you manage that?”

“I can be quite convincing,” you shrug. “Not that you would understand.”

He takes another dig on chin, uncharacteristically good natured this day, but he gives you that look. The look where you don’t know whether he wants to skin you or kiss you. No one really has ever looked in the way Aemond has. As if he sees nothing of what you’re really made of while managing to look right through you at the same time.

“Better yet, I may even tell Baela and Rhaena that they should take this time to be with grandmother and grandfather, especially as Corlys may stand a similar fate as Rhaenyra.”

“What about the other one,” Aemond frowns.

Your brows furrow in confusion before it dawns on you. Both him and Lucerys had done a good job of avoiding each other since you all came back from Dragonstone. But you can tell the tiptoeing has created strain and awkwardness for everyone.

“If Baela and Jace are gone with Moondancer and Vermax in toe, that just leaves a clearly petrified Luke and Arrax. I think Vhagar, Sunfyre or Dreamfyre can handle that, no?”

Aemond raises a brow. “You want them to die?”

“I don’t want anyone to die,” well that’s not entirely true, and the look Aemond gives you lets you in that he does not believe that as well. “As few casualties as possible is the goal. They can swear to Aegon when the time comes or be put the King’s Justice. As of now, we should take advantage of the uncertainty that rest amongst everyone.”

Aemond laughs, like really laughs. It takes you for surprise, and only upsets you. He laughs as if he finds your thoughts funny in the way seeing a squirrel run up a tree is funny. “What?”

“Nothing…. Lady Hightower.”

You scoff and throw the pieces of the fruit on the table at him. “Fuck off.”

“You make those faces and turn up your nose at Aegon being king, but you and I both know you will be the first to defend his throne,” you throw a strawberry at him but this time he catches it and eats it. “This is all for the kids, right? It is why they are not here, away from their mother?”

“They are away from their father as well. For their safety.”

You just hum.

“I want to write to them. They did not even get to say goodbye.”

“That could be dangerous.”

“I do not care, Aemond,” you raise your voice.

There is a knock at the door and Quinton comes in with a note in his hand. He eyes the food on the table as you read the note. It is from your father, assuring you about your parents soon departure back to the Riverlands.

“Are you alright,” he whispers. You nod softly. Quinton had been hovering somewhere in the background whenever Aemond was around, especially with the children gone. Clearly not trusting him around you.

Quinton should probably be more worried you around him. His cape swishes behind him when he goes to leave the room.

“You can write to them when the timing is better,” Aemond continues once you two are alone again.

The timing is never right. Not with him, not the with situation you are in.

The end of ninth moon of 129 AC

As you walk down the hall, a soft hand brushes against your arm.

“Are sure you are alright,” Quinton’s voice rings in your head, and tickles your ears softly.

“Of course,” you give fake smile, tilt of the head. He stops in the middle of the empty hall. Though he is your sworn protestor, you feel it is best to keep Quinton on the fringes unless needed otherwise. The less he knows, the safer he is you assume.

“I know you are not well without your children around,” he sighs. “But I would not want you to… sully yourself with things before you can get back to them.”

Sully. You take a long look at Quinton. There is something sweet about the way he views you. Entirely too earnest at time but sweet. You wish you could tell him he had nothing to worry about, and meant it. The pedastal he puts you on, my would it be a hard and long fall.

“I appreciate the concern, but I am ok,”’you reach up to touch his cheek. “You will be the first to know.”

He gives a half-hearted nod before then both of you continue your way to Rhaenyra’s chambers. When you get there the maidservants are beginning to place lights out in the hall for the night.

When you walk in, Rhaenyra is perched where she has been for some time now. Fiddling with the books on the shelf in the corner of the room.

“Maybe something a bit more upbeat. A love story,” you whisper. You go sit next to her on bed, flipping through the large brown book in your hand.

Rhaenyra begins to mumble as you shush her softly.

“It’s ok,” you reach over for the cup next to her bed. Sniffing the cup, you take note of how differently it smells compared to the tea and milk of the poppy mixture you used to.

The tonic seems different, stronger than usual. You put it to her lips and watch Rhaenyra drink it. You wipe her mouth. Even if this weakened state, you find her tragically beautiful. Like a fallen Angel. She resembles her siblings in that regard.

“I need - I need,” her eyes flutter open and shut. “The Prince that was Promised.”

You frown.

“Aeg- Aegon…”

“Your brother?”

“Tell Jacaerys.”

She trails off. Your back straightens as you watch as Rhaenyra’s eyes close, and her breathing slow.

The Prince that was Promised… Aegon.

You lean down and kiss her forehead. Mayhaps, in another life things could’ve been different for her. For her siblings, for her children, for you… for your kids. Climbing off the side of the bed, you gently tuck Rhaenyra in.

When you walk out, you see Quinton standing at attention. You motion for him to come with.

“I need you to do go get Otto,” you mummer. “We have business to get to.”

You cannot see the look Quinton gives you as move to walk ahead of him, and to that you are grateful.

Sullying is your only other option.

In the tenth moon 129 AC, the bell connected to the Royal Sept tolled for thee.

The death of Queen Rhaenyra, First of her Name, sent ripples through the Realm. But that was just beginning of the great strife that would follow her passing. A years peaceful period of reign for the Targaryen family ended by infighting.

Histories will say the first problem came the moment the then Princess and heir decided to sire bastard heirs. Others would say it began the moment, Rhaenyra left her succession vulnerable to her young brother. Not ending his line the moment she had the chance to.

Throughout her short reign as queen, there were festering rumors of usurping. That Lord Otto Hightower would hold secret meetings planning for the best moment to strike to get his grandson son on the throne. Others dispirited this claim, saying that the Dowager Queen Alicent’s afflictions for Queen Rhaenyra would never let that happen.

Ironically, it was not the death of the Rhaenyra is not the official start of what would later be called the Dance of Dragons. Instead the death of Prince’s Aemond One-Eye Targaryen’s lady wife’s parents triggered the domino affect. An escalation of plans.

Most would say the overflipped carriage was a tragic accident, but others whispered about something more serious. An inside attack from a member of the Targaryen family themselves. It was this tragedy that led to a public outcry from the members of the house in the Riverlands, coupling with the public crowning of a new king.

It was Ser Criston Cole, member of the Kingsguard, who crowed King Aegon, Second of his Name, in a private ceremony. Only flanked by his new crowned Queen Helaena, Prince Aemond and his wife, and Lord Hightower. King Aegon was crowned in front of the septon of faith, dawning his namesakes crown.

Back on Dragonstone, Jacaerys Velaryon recieved the news of not only his mother’s death, but also the usurping. Except it was not allies with the news, but foes. Jacaerys was slain at the footsteps of the castle.

It is still debated which side has more to gain to having Jace out of the way. King Aegon or Prince Daemon. But in the end, it was the later who eventually set up him home base at Dragonstone. Fleeing under the watchful eye of his spies in the Red Keep. With only two of his sons with him.

Both sides strategizing their moves. Daemon labeling Aegon and his supporters traitors to the realm, while Aegon set out to kill his uncle himself in given the chance. Under the insistence that it was him who accerlated Rhaenyra’s already bad condition.

Support the amongst the realm split as some supporter the efforts of the new king, far more open to his tactics than one of the Rogue Prince or Rhaenyra’s Bastards. While others scoffed at the boldness of Aegon the Usurper.

Those called on the opinions of the sons that remained at King’s Landing. Rumors of the Lucerys and Joffrey Velaryon being chained arriving. But it was not Daemon who negotiated the release of the boys. It was members of House Velaryon.

But there was one condition. It would be Baela and Rhaena, of both House Targaryen and Velaryon, that recieved equal titles after the passing of Corlys. Lucerys would be stripped of title of heir to the Driftmark Throne. It was rumored that this was not a cruel twist of fate from team green, but instead a plea from Lucerys himself.

It was Rhaena Targaryen, in all her wisdom, that worked through the terms. With a heavy heart, and no more bloodshed in her pleas. The more bold sister of the twins, Baela, had other plans. Sensing the release of Lucerys and Joffrey was a trap. She climbed on top of Moondancer, despite the calls not, and made her way closer to King’s Landing herself. But she was not alone. Her grandmother was with her.

Never one to sit from a battle himself, it was King Aegon who climbed his dragon to take them both on. All three dragon and riders fought diligently. Moondancer sustaining life ending injuries, while both Sunfyre and Aegon were injured at battle. But the most costly lost came at the hand of the One-Eyed Prince himself. Taking out Rhaenys and Meleys before further injury could come to his brother.

Enraged at the news of the death of Moondancer, and the almost costly lost of Baela, Daemon began his March. But he also had other plans at play. In efforts to lure the new Prince Regent out of the castle, he sent spies to Oldtown. Where not only Prince Daeron worked with all of Reach to support King Aegon. But also where the young Prince watched over his younger nieces and nephews.

There was an attempt to take the Jaehaerys Targaryen, son of Aegon and Alaric Targaryen, son of Aemond. But the plan was thwarted by a terrible beast. Vermithor lurched and lured over Oldtown like a tower himself. His flames as green as the Hightower Beacon. Highly protective over his new rider and those close to her. At just six and seventh month, Daella Targaryen was feared as her father.

Still not wanting to be outdone, Daemon sets his sights towards not only Harrenhal, but another certain house in the Riverlands. His march pillaging those close to Aemond’s wife. Still grieving the lost of parents and seperated from her children, it was rumored the lady became more quiet, drowning herself in her cups.

It was she, with Queen Mother Alicent and Queen Helaena, who pleaded for Aemond to not take the bait. But it was too no vail. After he heard of the attempted kidnapping, he set out with men of his own.

His march mirroring his uncle’s not only through the Stormlands but as well as the Riverlands. There were whispers of inhabitants at Harrenhal. It is still speculated by both Daemon and Aemond did not burn the structure to the ground, when they had to chance. Tales would be written of a certain magic soiling the ground. Keeping safe from harm.

Though those tales are all rumors, what was undeniably true, is that two Targaryen princes breathed their last breaths over God’s Eye on the sixth moon of 130 AC. No one saw the battle, but the sound of snapping dragons and the sight of green and red flames that called attention.

Vhagar and Aemond both fought a valiant effort but it the wounds to both proved to be to substantial. Aemond Targaryen died on top of his crowned dragon. The burns from Vhagar burning Daemon beyond repair.

When their deaths made it back to the Red Keep, the halls recount the Queen Mother tearing her hair in anguish, calling for the deaths of not only everyone who supported Daemon, but Aegon the younger and Viserys alike.

A story of crowns and iron thrones whittled down to death and fire. The grief felt by team green only compounded by the body of Aemond’s lady wife found charred in their chambers. It was Ser Quinton, her sworn protector, who lived to tell the story of having to fight off several guards before it was too late. In a matter of days, Daella and Alaric Targaryen missing from their places in Oldtown.

Both jobs speculated to be last minute plans carried about for Daemon Targaryen, done by his loyal Gold Cloaks. It is said that King Aegon never fully recovers from the death of not only his brother, but his good sister. Punishing those he deems responsible once he comes to.

But there are merchants in Essos that believe they have spotted a beautiful lady hand in hand with her children. One with sparkling white hair, the other with blonde streaks through her dark curls.

taglist: @florent1s @floraroselaughter @afro-hispwriter @snh96@holy-minseok @voniikg @evienorville @tremendouswolfsaladranch @crispmarshmallow @strawbrryquinn @widemiffyhappy @msmarvel-19 @dc-marvel-girl96 @xkennobi @fanfics4ever@hydrationqueensworld @lyra689 @blazzlynch @httyd-marauders@bregarc @b00kdiary @grey-water-colors @mercedesdecorazon@flowerpotmage @bstorn @poisonedsultana @papery-maniac @its-sam-allgood @yu3kkii @hvx @leoramage @neenieweenie@stargaryenx @rey26 @lazypinkpig @blackravena @s0urmarvel@elleclairez @rebelfleur22 @inpraizeof @luvremlu @clora95@blacpiink @let-love-bleeds-red @iwanttohitmyself @alastorhazbin@kitkat-writes-stuff @carrielle @aloneatpeace @ensolleildelune@landlockedmermaid77 @deadunicorn59

#im truly screaming crying throwing up about this being done #I hope y’all enjoy this and thank you again #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #prince aemond targaryen #aemond fic #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond x you #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond imagine #prince aemond #aemond x y/n #aemond one eye #aemond fanfiction #aemond x oc

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ffc1cb · 7 months

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new art blog

the short version:

1. i made a new art blog: @cbge;

2. @ffc1cb will stay up as an archive.

the long version:

hi everyone. this announcement is somewhat late, since the blog in question has been up for a few months now, and i’ve already started posting art on it. the reason it took me so long to “reveal” it is because i’ve been trying to figure out whether a new blog is something i actually want, or if it's just me throwing darts at a board, trying to make myself feel better somehow.

i don’t know when precisely it all started, but ever since sometime last year i’ve been going through a hard time, both emotionally and creatively. i’m not sure whether being depressed is what made art harder, or art becoming harder is what made me depressed (a bit of both, i think), but lately, drawing has been a struggle.

i’ve found myself having less and less energy for art, and this lack of energy resulted in poorer quality of drawings, which resulted in me feeling like i’m getting worse at it, despite my efforts. i knew i could make good art, art that i’m proud of - i’ve done so countless times before, - but somehow it felt like i just couldn’t anymore, like my hands forgot how to. nothing looked right.

i’ve been trying to experiment. i’ve learned some new things, tried this and that - it was enlightening, to say the least, and even though i kind of liked how it looked, it made me feel a sense of displacement. i was at odds with myself, my art, and how i felt about it, when previously i was always in sync. i was making art, yes, and it looked nice, but it felt like it wasn’t mine.

i suppose part of it was also the growing lack of engagement, and i don’t mean likes and reblogs - i never particularly cared about those. they are all just numbers to me; dry and impersonal. what i’m talking about is actual, human interactions: personal thoughts in tags, asks, replies, etc. a conversation.

i don’t mean to sound “old” or anything, but i remember when talking to artists online was more commonplace. my wife tells me it’s because the internet culture has changed over the years, that people have become more reclusive, less willing to be open with their thoughts, and she's probably right, but in my slump i find it hard to believe. somehow it feels like it’s my fault for being less “engaging”, for seeming unapproachable or perhaps intimidating. maybe it’s “just a skill issue”, maybe it’s because i have stopped churning out fanart for popular fandoms, maybe it’s because i refuse to torture myself emotionally by having an art account on twitter (i can’t fucking stand the place anymore; i still post nsfw art there, but only because it’s literally one of the only places on the internet that allows you to do so. i miss when you could post female presenting tits on tumblr).

i have always, ever since i started posting art on the internet back in 2012, done it for human connection. i wanted to talk to people, and have people talk to me. i wanted to inspire people with my art, and i wanted to bring them comfort. i wanted to elicit an emotional response, and have people tell me about it. it was one of the main reasons i drew in the first place; having lost that, i’ve been struggling to stay passionate about making art.

i miss being a small artist on the internet during the 2010s. i remember when i could make a post going, “hey everyone, how are you all doing today?” and it would not seem weird to people in the slightest. it is just me? does anyone else feel that way? am i too deep in my own head? the internet feels so unwelcoming nowadays, especially to artists. we are all just content machines; people scroll by our stuff, or maybe look at it for half a second and leave a like before scrolling away. i know it’s unfair to demand people’s attention, especially now when our lives are already so overwhelmed by everything - no one has the energy to pay closer attention; i myself am not immune to mindless scrolling. but it feels bad. i wish we were all sincere and enthusiastic again.

anyway (sorry for rambling. i hope i haven’t bored you to death), you might want to say, okay, but how is making a new art blog on a “dying” social platform going to help with any of that? the truth is, i don’t know. i just felt like i needed a change.

i’ve been running this blog since 2016 (that’s almost 8 full years!). i feel incredibly attached to it, but at the same time, i feel it weighing me down.

there are people who followed me years ago for one specific thing, still expecting me to post about said thing (i still find it mindboggling that some people follow artists for a specific fandom only, but that is a whole other matter for a whole other post that i will never write). a third, if not half, of my following are probably dead blogs. and with my current struggle with trying to regain the joy i once felt for making art, looking back at all the art i’ve done over the years makes me feel tired. i still love it all; it’s all very dear to me. i’m proud of it; looking at it makes me mourn my younger and more passionate self.

so i’ve decided to make a new blog, where i will let myself post whatever i want, in whatever stage of donness i feel like. maybe it will help me, somehow. maybe it won’t. but if you care about my art, if you want to keep following me on my artistic journey, i welcome you to join me there. similarly, feel free not to - no hard feelings.

thank you everyone for your support over the years; it matters a lot to me. i’m not planning to delete or private this blog; it will stay up, and i will still be reachable on here. i will still answer asks, if there will be any. i’m just not planning to post any art here anymore. this is it for my dear old friend ffc1cb.

i can be found in other places:

@cbge, as mentioned earlier,

@k0nstanta, an art blog dedicated solely to my wife and i’s ocs,

@inquisimail, a dragon age ask blog that has become my dragon age sideblog in general,

and multiple other blogs, none of which are art related, but feel free to ask, if you’re curious.

thank you very much for reading all of this. i hope you have a wonderful day.

#salt talks

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muse-matrix · 16 days

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So... It's been a while since I last logged in here. Longer still since I properly did... much of anything here, outside of a few scattered posts. Part of me had been kinda dreading coming back here but looking at when my activity really dramatically dropped off, I think I understand what happened.

So, way back in february of last year, I was bouncing between a lot of things. I was running around doing a bunch of stuff to try and secure a new job, and I did manage that- A big component of my not being here was just me adjusting to having to work again, after being unemployed for almost an entire year. It was tough to get the right structure going, but I managed it. And despite starting college just a couple weeks ago, I've mostly managed that too so far, I think.

But that isn't... the main reason why. Probably. I think.

You see, what else happened in february, was that I got booted from a community I'd been a part of for years. It encompassed my involvement in a card game I loved, as well as the FF14 free company I'd been part of at the time. Someone who was, at one time, a good friend of mine misinterpreted something, and was so incensed by it, they took some things I said out of context and absolutely slandered me to the mod team of that community. (Yes, it actually is as bad as it sounds. I checked.) As a result, I was privately labeled some pretty nasty things, and shunted from their discord server without so much as a word. None of them would speak to me, none of them would even give me a chance to tell my side of things.

Obviously, that stung. A lot.

It had me pretty dejected about a lot of stuff, for a really long time. Probably why I mostly got off of here- I retreated to a different blog where there was less pressure (self-imposed) and more freedom for me to just, kinda, do whatever I wanted without fear or worry. I needed space and freedom to move myself around how I wanted for a while. And then that led to me feeling bad about not coming back here, which made me put off coming back here even longer... You see where this goes.

But at this point, it's been a year and a half. I'm pretty much over that fiasco, I haven't spoken to any of those people since, and they've evidently been content to leave it alone too, given I haven't had any mobs of angry pitchfork-wielding card game players coming after me.

And recently, Kako came back! She's RPing again and that's fun to see. I know a lot of you I've still been in contact with regardless, her included, so most of you probably are already aware of a lot of this stuff, but writing all this out is part of my process, so bear with it. The important thing is, after a lot of time and thinking about things, and seeing friends return to RPing and watching things happen from afar... God, do I want to get back into it with you all.

I very likely still won't be super active, but I'm going to at least try to be consistent. This is supposed to be my main, after all. I'll probably take the next week or so to clean up the muse list, cut a bunch of stuff, get a bit more focused and the like. Not that I'll actually stop playing any given muse- I'm wont to flip-flop between characters I enjoy, and I'm loathe to let fun interactions pass me by just because a character 'isn't on my muse list', but I ought to give myself a bit of structure, at least.

So... I'll try to be here every day, at least. Even if it's just to check in. This'll be a fresh start for me, I'd say, not that any of my old lore or whatever is getting abandoned. It's just... It's been a long time. It'll take some easing back into things for me, so I'm not even going to worry about whatever asks have been left to rot in my inbox, stuff like that.

Given it's been such a long time, some of you may... have blogs that I'm not currently following, cause I've missed them or what have you. So uh, if that's the case, please shoot me a message so I can correct that.

#hello everyone it has been far too long

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deesseshesca · 3 months

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Why am I emotional ?

And suddenly it was just me… FUCK it is just me.

Good evening, pretty souls, today we are checking on your emotional scale. What is affecting you now, how can we fix it and how to minimize the damage in the process of doing so.

ANNOUNCEMENT

I will be giving full reading for a very affordable price (almost free) but there will only be 3 spots available. Stay posted on my blog, so you don’t miss this opportunity.

Choose the image that’s speak to you and allow yourself to soak ONLY what’s reasoning with YOUR SITUATION

Rules and Disclaimer

I am the type of tarot reader to say as it is. Nothing is sugar coated but everything is send with good intention. If you are not ready to face some truth, you should vagabond somewhere else.

TW: R@pe, S@cide

MINOR DON'T INTERACT WITH THIS POST

MINOR DON’T READ THIS POST

CHOOSE AN IMAGE

PILE 1

Two wands, Ace swords, Justice, Queen wands, ‘’Please unblock me … Yeah, that’s me calling you from an unknown number’’, ‘’ I have abandonment issues ! I grew up in a single parent household ! I had a rough childhood”

HEYY !!! Spiritual girly. I’m talking to earthy aesthetic girls. The one that smells like coco butter and vanilla walking around in a long skirt, crop top and too many jewels. When it comes to you, the cauldron told me about an opportunity that finally touches your hand. When I dive deeper into the message, I’m sensing something that took a lot of hard work and a lot of faith. For a long time it was just an idea in your mind for which you fought for it to materialize into the 3D. Congratulations babes ! A lot of obstacles came in the way but you stay resilient. That also was not easy since your faith was often tested in the meantime. I’m getting a new opportunity, a new career field opening, and the start of a new hobby/business. You finally have the time and funds to dive deep into a project. I’m hearing: ‘’I’ll be dammed if I let you fuck me up’’. At the moment, you feel a bit overwhelmed. Now that the gift is sitting on your porch, you don’t actually know how to approach it. What do you want VS what you need ? Your desires or your needs, first ? One is all about the action while the other path is all about trusting the process called ‘’life’’. A lot of people all of the sudden seem very worried about your actions. Acting like the decision you are making has a huge impact on their destiny. If I may, girl f them. If they paid attention earlier, they would have noticed you were not happy with your life . Now all of the sudden they care so much about what's happening to you. Like…Let’s be frl. You have to stand up for yourself. Whatever decision you make regarding that situation, you will NEED to voice it. Is insomnia keeping you up at night ? Well let’s start to implement some meditation before sleep. So you can be less in your head. Try to be more practical with your way of living. Rn I feel like you always looked like a baddie but it’s only recently that you actually felt like one. Advice: Don’t slow down. Is easy now since you finally receive what you pray for, to relax and enjoy but it is only the beginning. Don’t try to accommodate or to one. Put yourself FIRST.

Love

The ex of your dude ( the fact that i did not choose a lover, sneaky link or even crush. Girl why are still holding on for. LOL. ) Is trying to get him back. And you really don’t give a damn. I feel like you don’t even want him. But he is stuck on you like glue. I think the thing that completely broke the bond between y'all is that he doesn't want you to be better. Like you announce him the good news and he knew you really wanted it. Now he wants you to let it go. BOY BYE ! BYEEEE! You don’t even hate him, you feel disgusted that he even thought his opinion mattered that much. Plus he keeps mentioning you change. Babe you did ! Don’t let him bully out of your shit. Now you are more sexually confident with yourself and bold with your boundaries. Him: You were more submissive back than. You: Now I have shit I care for. Advice: STAND ON BUSINESS. If he is block let him stay there. Yes, he is the unknown number that is trying to reach you.

PILE 2

Hanged man, Moon, Ten pentacles (reverse), Tower, 1111, 777, ‘’I want a second chance ! Not being with you is killing me !’’

Heyy… pile 2, you are my TW pile. Before you get deeper in the reading just know it is completely fine for you to take another one especially if you are not ready to talk about it. To beginning , when I was channeling, I first sang a very happy song. Then a faint voice called for help. At that exact moment the card fell out. First let go of the struggle especially if you try everything and nothing is working. Take a moment to breathe. Is time to surrender to life and believe that it will actually bring you to a better place. Let go of the victim and become the warrior you needed from others. Start your healing journey, go to therapy, take your pills, do some journaling. I know when you are reading you probably smirk. I’m speaking with experience, babies. Is not going to change overnight. But as I am channeling, I'm picturing you in a very messy room with molding left over surrounding you. I keep hearing ‘’ I was NEVER like this before’’. I know babies, I know how such experience can change you. You are FUCKING powerful. I’m not saying this because of trauma, that’s what I channel. You were always standing on your power and someone tried to knock you off your throne. One small change at a time, like cleaning your room once a week. Drinking one water bottle a day. Eating at least 3 times a day even if it is a snack is going to get you going. Right now, you must be feeling fucked up. Like he hurt you. He took away your spark, why should you try to get it back. When such an event happens in people's life, it is re-birth. Is time to re-learn to live again. Choose your pace and take it day by day. Nobody truly heals from it, I can assure you that. But you can learn to live a thriving life despite it. Instead of going on the hunt for the old version of you, learn about this new you. Pay attention to your dreams, there is a message in them. Reflect on your inner voice. Don’ t allow others to dictate how you are supposed to heal even if what you feel right now is numbness. Stick to your guns since you are the only one that knows you best at the moment. A good opportunity or news is going to present itself in divine timing. You will be sitting in the right place and right moment. One of your wishes will come true. Something worth living will come out of this situation. There’s good luck heading your way. All wisdom gain from this journey would be very helpful to the community if you ever decide to share it one day.

LOVE

You are with someone that your friends and family don’t approve of. And the icing on the cake , you don’t like them either. You don’t want to be alone and you are too ‘’broken’’ for a healthy relationship so you are distracting yourself with that. Let me be the bearer of bad (good) news, this relationship will end. Your distraction will leave and reality will hit. One thing I see, they will play games in front of your face. They will even threaten to kill themself, just to keep you sucked in. Text them number phone for help online and move on. Don’t engage more than that. What is more fuck up, is that they keep you close just have sex with you.

Song: Praying-Kei$ha

Loves classic English literature, read the bible just for fun, future witch

PILE 3 (18+)

Lovers (reverse), Page Wands, Strength, Hanged man, ‘’I love your swag ! You are the whole package !’’,444

Hey…beyhives. I feel like, I’m only speaking to Beyonce stan at the moment. You guys are still bumping the country album of Queen B, like it came out yesterday. You guys are weirdly connected to my spiritual team because it feels like I was meant to read for you. Let’s get into it. People don’t realize how kinky you are, they know you are freaky. But nah… y’all are KINKY. You are a person that is aware of your sexual power and don't mind using it to your advantage. Your manners , your body, your sensuality, attract and please other people. You know what button to push. You are a very experienced and sensual lover. Not shy at all, actually very confident.

LOVE

I feel like you are looking for a confirmation. Let me be. Your relationship has run it’s time. I don't even think y’all ever loved him. But he was the only one that allow you dual nature. I’m getting from the outside y’all are super cute, but in the bed a pure beast. You guy LOVE sex. You are scared that you are never going to find someone that will get you stamina without judging you by calling your names, especially if you identify as women. He cheated. Which made you extremely possessive and jealous. So you use sex to control him. I’m hearing: How DARE you think you can find better than me ! Advice : Start something new take a break from your love life and slowdown on sex for a minute. Usually if you have more sexual energy than usual it is because your body's calling you to create. Think about it: to create life we need to get nasty in the bedroom. Imma need you to get nasty in your career. Find something that is passionate about you and go hard (ahahaha). Look at the bigger picture, you are way to focus on him. Feel the fear and do it anyway. You are fearful of rejection. That’s why you allow this man to take the best out of you. Find a new source of inspiration and shake off the blues. Right now contrary to what you might think, you are not sitting in your divine feminine energy. Since you are in such war mode, it is almost completely masculine. Plus, he doesn't care for you at ALL. But he does know that they will never be another woman like you.

Song: Haunted-Beyonce

Platinum blond hair, very fair skin, very light blue eyes, luscious lips and round face. Face card is LETHAL.

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