#it’s been ten years and i am finally able to draw them

[jarjarjinxs]

@callimara @therentyoupay got me back into jelsa faster than pitch when he got sucked into that hole

[plotsignificanthaircut555]

Sleepover with Drunk Nanami

Nanami crashes on your couch after a drunken meeting on a rare night out.

Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, 18+ ONLY. fem! Reader, Soft Nanami, drunk Nanami, slow burn (sorta? Does nine hours count?), discussions of consent, Gojo is in it also lol.

Word count: 13.9k, Ngl this one kind of got away from me 🤭🫣. Don’t have sex with drunk people! let the tension build until that consent is sober and enthusiastic.

This was inspired by the song Get Up by Ciara, and my being very horny. I haven’t written fanfic in almost ten years, so here’s what I have for you. This was so fun to write, I really hope y’all enjoy it. I am so obsessed with this man its actually insane.

Clubs were not his preferred way to “cut loose”. He hated the claustrophobic proximity, the overpriced drinks, the flagrants displays of affection, most of all the inability to hold a conversation. Resounding bass and artificial light blaring against his skull was sure to culminate in tomorrow’s headache. Nanami couldn't be bothered to entertain the idea of joining his coworkers to dance and drink as they so often invited him. He much preferred to keep his own company, drinking at home, indulging in the occasional (and strictly, personally regulated) cigarette, and reading in the bath. Although the last two weeks he found himself working around the clock. It seemed that as soon as he crossed his own home’s threshold he was back to work in some capacity or other. He couldn't remember the last time he had been able to turn his brain off completely in between shifts. He hated working, period, let alone working outside of his normal hours, but the work needed to be done, and as the days trudged forward, his work life balance compounded into a singularity designed specifically to siphon any free time he could find.

But that had ended this afternoon, completing a mission’s adjoining paperwork and being released for a three day leave in between assignments. Returning to his small office, he begins to retrieve his coat and pack his bag to depart and return home to finally relax. Already feeling his shoulders unknot themselves, Nanami allowed a blissful sigh to leave his lips. No sooner had he begun to draw in the following breath than had the rapping of angular knuckles against his door frame rung in his ears. Raising his eyes, Kento sees long time (reluctant) friend and daily annoyance, Satoru Gojo, strolling casually inside and plopping across the desk from him.

“So what time should I pick you up?” Although Kento could not see his eyes behind the famous black blindfold hiding them, the blase demeanor and entitlement dripping from his question was apparent.

Already feeling the vein in his head begin to pulse, Nanami sighed out, “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come out with us tonight. You’re off the ne t few days. I’m sure even you can recover from one night out in that time. Everyone is goin, Suguru, Shoko, yours truly…even Ijichi said he would come,” Gojo allows his smile to lure in the other man, “So you have to come.”

A familiar feeling rose the skin on the back of his neck as Kento heard his familiar train of thought, Absolutely not. I’m exhausted. I have to decline. Don’t wait up for me, but before the reluctance to break his own routine won over, his shoulders softened, “Okay.”

Gojo snapped to attention, his planned seduction now moot in the face of Nanami’s quick acceptance. He hadn't said yes to going out in two months, and the last time he had joined the group, he left less than an hour in claiming a headache and calling a cab.

“For real?” Gojo couldn't help himself, he was waiting for this to be a joke.

“Yes, 9:00 you’ll pick me up. We’ll go out. I could use the break. Thank you for the invitation.”

Gojo was beside himself, feeling his lips stretch from ear to ear, he rose to his feet and began to head to the door. He had to limit the time for Nanami to come to his senses, fearing this may all be some bought of madness from the usually grumpy man.

“See you then, wear something I like.”

Idiot always had to have the last word. Nanami lowered himself into his desk chair, taken aback by his own enthusiasm, a small smile creeping across his lips. He wasn't sure what had come over him, but he couldn't say he was upset by it, it had been a long time since he had tried to meet his friends like this. He wasn't social by nature, and he was grateful to have people who understood that, allowing him his space but still continuing to include him in their extroverted fun. As much as Gojo’s refusal to allow him peace took its toll, Nanami was pleased to have someone so insistent on pushing his social limits. Although he would never tell him that.

These are the circumstances that lead Nanami to drinking as much as he had, to loosening his tie eventually to the point of hanging on either shoulder, to laying his jacket along the barstool of the hightop table he and his friends occupied. Dancing, actually dancing inside of the group of people gyrating together on the club’s designated dance floor. Eyes closed, hair sticking to his forehead, Kento felt the weight of fall away and the warm embrace of intoxication take over.

Gojo laughed over his dark sunglasses, nudging Geto’s elbow with his own before tipping his head to their large, very uncharacteristically drunk friend. They watched in shared admiration, laughing to each other, remembering fondly the stiff demeanor their friend had always carried. Since they’d known him they had seen him get drunk countless times, but drunk enough to dance? Only a handful. Drunk enough to have undone his top three buttons and reveal a growing flush down his neck and shoulders, maybe twice.

“He really needed this,” Geto praised Gojo lightly, it was him who always insisted on inviting out Nanami once again, despite the likely improbability of it happening.

Gojo smiled warmly before laughing again, this time to himself, he didn't want to reveal how easy it really was. How little he had had to push to get him out, he let the praise wash over him as he admired the usually stuffy man’s catharsis. Shoko returned then from the bar, two shots for herself and one for Ijichi who followed closely behind her, already starting to stumble himself.

That’s when Nanami saw you. Finally opening his eyes, pupils adjusting to the dim light, you appeared to him like a vision. And a vision you were, long legs wrapped in a skirt, a top lightly grazing the hemline at your waist, arms full and strong, hair styled specifically showcasing care and effort as well as routine. Engaged in conversation with a friend of yours, both laughing and allowing the atmosphere to relax you, Kento didn't realize his body had stopped dancing as he now stood dumbly in the center of the dancefloor. With soft pushes and thoughtless instinctual movement, he moved to the outskirts of the dancefloor, although still within sight of you. His breath caught in his chest, his hands ran cold, becoming clammy quickly as he watched you share a shot with your friend, head tipping back and revealing the full column of your neck to him. He felt his face flush further than the alcohol could.

Soon enough his back found the table that Shoko currently occupied, digging in her discarded coat’s pocket for her lighter, cigarette hanging loosely between her lips. Cooly placing her hand atop a few rattled glasses knocked around by his collision, she inquired as to Nanami’s dreamy state, “something got your attention?” her laugh broke through his haze just as she followed his eyeline to you.

“She’s pretty, you know her?” she was finally able to fish her lighter from the correct pocket.

Nanmi shook his head, still not able to tear his gaze away,” do you?”

“Never seen her before.” She observed the dumbstruck look in Nanami’s eyes weighing whether her input was more prescient than her desire for a smoke break, “You should try to talk to her. Who knows when we’ll get you out again. Make the most of it.”

With that she headed back towards the smoker’s patio, leaving Nanami with her words bouncing between his ears. When was the last time he had flirted with someone? When was the last time he had been on an actual date? When was the last time he had gotten to take someone home? When was the last time he had shared a bed with someone? When was the last time someone else had made him cum, not just himself between disgruntled days and nights working too much with little output? He had a break, he had come out, hadn't he? As he had gotten ready tonight he chastised his own mind for indulging in fantasies of meeting someone, But he didn't think he would find someone so ... .magnetic.

He wasn't even sure how long it had been since Shoko had gone outside, Kento snapped back to himself when he saw you set your drink down- nearly finished- and head into the throng of dancing bodies. His body moves before he can consciously decide how best to approach you; feet escorting him to the dance floor, hips following the beat and loosening the rest of him. His hands moved upward around his shoulders imitating a boxer’s stance, the alcohol clearly influencing his dancing style. Pressing forward he found himself just to your left. It was as though you had your own kinespheric bubble surrounding you, people danced near you but not on you. He felt invited in by this space, as though you had saved it just for him. He watched your body move, circling your hips and allowing your neck to follow the melody freely, your arms raising above your head as your eyes fluttered between completely closed and mostly closed. Your lips were parted beautifully, lip gloss catching the light so beautifully.

Maybe it was just chapstick, or it was lipstick, he had no idea, but just seeing the glint along your bottom lip made his mouth water for your kiss.

Would you use your tongue right away, or would he need to draw it out of you with his? Would you want him to guide you, or did you want to lead him yourself? He found his heart quickening at ever new possibility. When you finally allowed your eyes to open, they found him almost instantly. Locking eyes with you finally, Kento thought his skin was going to burst. Heart quickened, hand clammy, breath quick he searched for any reciprocation in your own eyes.

So when your eyes crinkle, following the line of your smile, so clearly directed right at him and only him, Kento can't resist but bring his hands to the sides of your hips.

The blonde man had been watching you since you got here. You noticed, Sophie noticed. As soon as you left the bar and staked your claim on an open hightop bordering the crowded but lively dance floor, she had jutted her chin toward him on the other side of the floor.

“Got one already.” she said impressed with your efficiency.

You turned to briefly meet his gaze, in just a second his gaze was so intense you could tell his eyes were honey brown and they were trained on you and only you, “oh come on. I’m sure he’s just checking everyone out.” you dismissed, still feeling the hot eyes on the back of your neck.

“He’s still looking at you,” Sophie marveled, “still looking…still…wow I don't think hes even trying to hide it.”

You knew. You could feel it, your heart raced. You had just barely looked at him but you had seen enough to see how attractive he was. A tall, broad frame, well cultivated outfit, neat, well styled hair, confidence and stability oozing from every pore. So clearly unabashedly interested. God, he was your type. Before you knew it most of your drink was drained, the nerves of being observed having made you suddenly parched. The liquid confidence settling in your system motivated you to pull Sophie to dance. You two found an open bubble in the sea of bodies and allowed yourself to release your lingering thoughts of the watcher.

That is, until you open your eyes once more, finding a pair of honey brown eyes begging for yours. It was him. He was less than two feet from you, he had sought you out. You couldn't help yourself, his interest and obvious enthusiasm brought a curl to your lips. Your smile locking him into a stare, you didn't flinch when you felt large, strong hands on your hips. It felt right, looking into his eyes the idea of not feeling him touch you felt preposterous. Your hips still followed the music, his soon joining their routine. His hands, once brazen, now stayed still and solid against your hips, moving with you, but never straying from their position. Emboldened by his sudden demure approach,wanting to reciprocate with just as much interested you turned, facing your back to him and pressing the curve of your ass against his hips, you thought you hear a soft groan exit his mouth. Once you had turned away from him, a bit of tension is relieved. You feel braver not looking him directly in the eye anymore. You grip onto one of his hands and trail it up your body, leaving the other gripping your hip harder and harder. Soon your back was fully against his chest, the music carried your pelvis, joined against his, everything else fell away as you guided his right hand across your body, side, hips, stomach and ass. His body felt so solid against yours, it was so solid against yours. He was an imposing figure, six foot or more, strong and cultivated build demonstrating both his personal strength and his own discipline. How you could have not noticed him here before was beyond you.

Nanami was hypnotized. From the moment you had looked him in the eye, he was hooked. Now that your body was flush against his, ass grinding into the front of his slacks, he couldn't think about anything else. He breathed hot against your ear as your fingers curled around his, sliding his fingers up from your hip to your stomach. It was so intimate, your leading his hand along your body, showing him exactly where you wanted his touch. You had your head cocked to the left, opening the side of your neck to him and moving your hair just under his nose, the smell of your shampoo was thrilling, he longed to run his fingers through your hair, to ruin your styling and pull. He wondered if you would let him brush it for you, wash it for you. He could learn exactly how you liked your routine, learn to style, learn to braid, anything to keep this smell close to him.

Behind his eyelids he wondered about your body, how your breasts would look, how your skin would flush through excitement or exertion, how wet you would get, how you would taste. He wondered, too, about your kiss, again thinking about how much tongue you would use, and if you would want to be in charge or him. A soft moan escaped his lips as he thought of your tongue sliding against his, directly against the shell of your ear. As if cued you spun around again, your leg slotted between his, allowing you both to move as one, grinding unashamed as your arms wrapped around his neck.

“You can touch me yourself you know,” You could barely hear the music but Nanami knew exactly what you had said, “Or do you just like being told what to do.”

Your flirting sent a shock directly down his body, feeling his cock swell against the inside of his slacks, he slid his hands up the curves and folds of your back, your skin was so soft, he saw your lips part as he touched you. You were so reactive, he couldn't hear the caught breaths of the soft moans over the club’s speakers, but he watched as your eyes fluttered and your knees pulled tighter around him. One hand traveled down to the side of your leg, brushing down the side of your hip and ass to grip your thigh. The front strands of his hair had loosened and now hung freely in his face, a dark blush settled across his freckled nose and cheeks, one of your hands moved down his shoulder and onto his chest, he wished he had been more reckless and undone a few more buttons for you, he longed to have your fingers on his skin. But for now they held the collar of his shirt in their grasp, he longed for your eyes again, and as if you had read his find they met his own. He prayed you couldn't feel the way the eye contact had made his dick twitch, the blush deepening at the shame of being so crass in his attraction to you. Pulling him somehow even closer, he could feel your breath on his neck, he was panting a bit from the exertion of dance and the intense sexual tension. The song was beginning to end, and the DJ was already beginning to blend it with the introduction of the next song.

Seizing his opportunity, Nanami finally spoke his first words to you, “Can I buy you a drink?”

You nodded, smiling at him, he wanted to make you smile again and again, the warmth of your gazing making the stuffy club feel icy by comparison.

“Thank you!”, you moved a hand down his arm to join your hands together. Guiding him over to the bar. Your hand in his felt electric, you both could feel it. His large, work roughened palm against your own. They had fit together so naturally.

As you made your way over to the bar the music became less and less overwhelming, the pressing of bodies became less insistent. You turned your head to find Sophie, chatting to a few friends she had planned to run into, she caught your eye before giving you a knowing look and a thumbs up. You smiled and winked at her before turning back to the man behind you. You caught him at the end of turning his head from what looked to be a group of his own friends. All of whom were looking at the pair of you. One, particularly tall man with dark glasses was giving an encouraging thumbs up mirroring Sophie’s. You caught yourself wondering if your friends would get along, if he would get along with your friends, if you would get along with his. You didn't even know this man's name, you had barely spoken to him, and here you were ready to merge friend groups and make brunch plans. What the hell was going on tonight?

Finally reaching the bar right as two seats opened up, you both sat, giving your exhausted legs much needed refuge. The air between you two suddenly became thick, without the immediacy of movement you found yourself suddenly worried about how to engage him again in the heat you had just had.

“What do you like to drink?”, he started right as you offered a question of your own,

“So what’s your name..”

You both laughed for a second, the acknowledgement of shared nerves taking a little pressure off. His smile was reserved, seemingly unpracticed. But his eyes betrayed his warmth, you could see.

“Kento Nanami,” He answered your question first, fighting the urge to hold out his hand for a chaste and professional handshake. He lifted his eyebrows to signify it being your turn to answer, you told him your name, and his smile returned again, “That's a beautiful name.” he repeated it back to you, ensuring his pronunciation was correct, when in actuality he could have rolled your name in his mouth a thousand times and never tired of the taste.

“I’d love a gin and tonic,” You offered, answering his question, “Or whatever you’re drinking.”

Drinking, he was drinking. Suddenly he was aware of how much he had been drinking. Skin hot and red, probably sweating all over you, stinking of booze. He felt the embarrassment move throughout his body as he replayed his invitation to buy you a drink. Were you just being nice to him? Wanting to find a polite way to get away from him and return to your friend? He had been so casual, so unhindered.

God, he was an idiot

“Sorry to take you away from your friends, I understand if you want to go back.”He wanted to offer you an out, feeling himself try to straighten up and will the drunkenness out of him before he embarrassed you or himself further. But to his surprise, you cocked your head to the side, eyes narrowing to assess his change in demeanor. You could see right through him.

“Don’t get shy on me now, the nights just starting,” you offered a new, slyer smile, “isn’t it?”

He nodded slowly, the bartender finally rounded the bar top to take your orders. Nanami ordered your drink as well as one of his own, you added on the desire for some ice water. Once the drinks were down set, you offered him a little cheers, tapping your glass against his before sipping. The drink was cool and refreshing, the perfect remedy for the heat rising in your neck and face.

He was so handsome, from his carved cheekbones speckled with freckles, you wondered if they were anywhere further down his collar. His bottom lip was full and plump, parted slightly as he tasted his drink, with his face profile to yours you could see a small pink circle on the side of his nose.

“Do you wear glasses?”, you asked.

Nanami’s brows twitched slightly together, “I do.”

“You have those little impressions on your nose. From the bridge of your glasses.” You answer, without him having asked how you could tell, “I bet you look handsome with your glasses on.”

Nanami cursed himself for leaving his glasses in his coat pocket across the bar. He’ll never make that mistake again. Bringing the chilled glass to his lips, attempting to cover his smile. He feels so seen by you, the way your eyes move over every inch of him, he doesn’t know if he’s ever been observed so closely. It’s exhilarating, it’s terrifying. You’re terrifying. You’re exhilarating. You’re still looking at him. You’re looking at him expectantly. You asked him another question and he missed it. He scrambles through the last few seconds searching for what you may have said to him, and how he possibly could have missed it.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if those were your friends over there.” You pointed over his shoulder.

Nanami turned quickly, oh god too quickly, his head spinning a bit as his equilibrium struggled to catch up. Gojo was waving at him, gesturing broadly in unintelligible charades. Nanami felt his frustration flare up at both having been distracted from you and also having to once again decipher another one of Satoru’s riddles. At the meeting of their eye line, Gojo began to move over to where the pair of you were seated, Geto and Shoko sharing the weight of a stumbling Ijichi. The head vein began pulsing again, he ought to name it after Gojo the way he sets it off. Panic set throughout his body, he didn’t want you to meet his friends— or maybe he didn’t want them to meet you. Not yet. He didn’t want to risk ruining what hadn’t yet really started. Suddenly feeling very territorial of you, he turned back, once again sending his head swimming.

“Yes. Those are my coworkers. I’m not—“

“Nanamiiiiin. We gotta take Ijichi home, he’s already thrown up twice. It’s gross.” Gojo was already halfway through his sentence before reaching the bar.

You assessed the new crowd of faces. Odd faces, all so well built and specific. Between the tall man in the darkest sunglasses you had ever seen in an already dark bar, the lithe woman with purple eyeshadow and the most perfect beauty mark, and the embodiment of tall dark and handsome— you wondered what exactly Nanami did for a living. Was there some kind of work force that employed only the hottest people you had ever seen. It took you a second to notice the younger, far drunker man with his arm slung around the black haired man with the gauges. The white haired man was still talking to Nanami, maybe arguing, but they spoke too softly for you to hear specifics. Both were cut off

“So do you want a ride home or are you good here?” Gauges asked eyes moving between you and Nanami coolly, before readjusting his hold of the nearly asleep fourth man.

The woman tapped on her phone, seemingly uninvested in what was happening, now barely holding onto their friend.

The white haired man cut in before Nanami could answer, “you hit those drinks pretty hard, Nanami. We don’t want you getting taken advantage of.” His face turned toward you and although you couldn’t see his eyes, you felt them.

Wow, like really felt them, he was sizing you up, it was clear. It was confusing, his inflection was teasing-almost joking, but his energy was severe.

Nanami was seething, mortified by the intrusion and Gojo’s crass assertion, “I can get myself home.”

It would have sounded more convincing if the slurring of his voice hadn’t married the words myself and home into a mess. You noticed, realizing for the first time that you were much more sober than him. His friends noticed too.

Nanami cleared his throat before speaking again, “I’m a grown man, I don’t need you to babysit me, Gojo. I’m enjoying my evening. Please take Ijichi home.”

Gojo didn’t seem convinced, turning his face back to you and finally sliding the sunglasses down his nose to reveal the bluest pair of eyes you had ever seen. They nearly glowed in the dim club. This gesture caused the others of the group to stiffen up. The woman finally putting her phone down, Gauges eyeing him carefully, even Nanami drew in a tense breath.

“We quite like our friend Nanami, we wouldn’t want him getting hurt.” He spoke directly to you, between his height and your seated position he leaned over you slightly, “are you someone we can trust our friend with?”

Nanami was about to cut in but before he could you met those azure eyes with yours, “I quite like your friend too.,” you copied his inflection, “ I understand why you’d be wary of some stranger taking him home. Since you have your hands full, I’ll watch him for the night. If he decides he needs a ride home, why don’t I call you directly?”

Nanami felt his jaw drop, looking between you and Gojo carefully. He caught Geto’s eye, seeing him smile lightly. No one talked to Gojo like this. Shoko chuckled softly, impressed with your lack of fear in the face of their “strongest” friend. There was no way for you to know the risk you were taking, but it was thrilling nonetheless.

“That is, if he would like to join me back to mine?” You continued, looking away from Gojo and back to Nanami.

“I’d like that very much.” Nanami answered quickly, in any other situation he would be embarrassed at how eager he sounded, especially in front of his friends. But you wanted to take him home, you wanted to keep talking to him, he could see where you lived, maybe you would let him kiss you, or touch you again.

“Give me your phone.”

The request snapped Nanami from his fantasy. Gojo held his hand out expectantly. To his surprise you handed over your cell phone. Gojo typed quickly, “This is my phone number and where Nanami lives. If I don’t answer, stick him in a cab to this address. Okay?”

“Okay. It’s nice to meet you, Gojo.” You attempted to ease the tension created, “I promise you’ve left him in good hands and I’ll return him to you in one piece.” You smiled warmly at him, cutting through the attempts at intimidation, even offering a small wink to Nanami over his friend’s shoulder.

You didn’t back down, you understood why anyone would be concerned about leaving their drunk friend with a stranger. It was a testament to how much he cared, he seemed completely sober himself. Playing DD, you assumed, was not a role he took lightly. You respected his protectiveness, you had done nearly the same on many occasions. If this is what Nanami’s friends were like, you would definitely fit in. You glanced down at where Gojo had written in the notes app of your phone. A string of numbers— his cell, and an address, Nanami’s, and below that another line, just for you.

Be nice to him, he’s more sensitive than he looks :)

Yeah, you would get along with this one. You smiled up at him and Nanami both before the dark haired man slung the full weight of the now completely passed out bespectacled man on his back in an attempt at a piggy back, and smiled to you warmly,

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Kento. Have a nice night.” Before turning and leading the group toward the exit. Gojo handed off Nanami’s jacket before pushing his glasses up his nose and turning around to follow.

With no more company, the two of you were once again alone. Nanami struggled to collect his thoughts before you soothed him, “Your friends are nice. They seem to really care about you. How long have you all worked together?”

“We all went to high school together.”

“And you’re still friends? That impressive, I barely keep up with friends from that long ago.”

“We’re, sort of, stuck with each other.” Nanami started, caught in the trap of having to figure out some way to explain his job without, actually, explaining his job. Thankfully, you cut that conversational thread and moved forward.

“I hope I wasn't too forward. You don't have to come back to mine. I felt like we were just getting to talking and I didn’t want to cut it short yet. But please don’t feel obligated.” You wanted to assure him that he could proceed however he wanted to. Despite how hopelessly attracted to this man you were, you recognized your responsibility as the more sober party to remain respectful.

“No I want to!” He blurted, not thinking about his volume, quickly standing.

You laughed, “I didn’t mean now! If you want to stay and have another drink, or dance more, that's good too.”

His resolve was starting to crack, it had been nearly an hour since he first saw you enter the club. He wanted desperately to be alone with you, suddenly the club was too hot and too crowded and too loud. Everything was overwhelming, and the only thing he wanted to overwhelm him was you.

Still standing he stepped in toward you a sudden surge of confidence lowering his voice and causing his head to dip down to meet you at eye level, “I would, very much like to join you back at your place.”

His voice was dripping with want, the eroticism behind his words lidding his eyes and sending chills down the side of your neck. You let out a small shaky breath before standing up, chest nearly colliding with his, sending him back up to his full height.

“Let me tell my friend I’m leaving. Stay here.”

You nearly ran to find Sophie and your mutual friends at a table of their own. Leaving Nanami to settle his tab and wait patiently at the bar for your return. Your heart was beating so fast you could barely hear the music. When you finally found her, you pulled her close to speak directly into her ear.

“I’m taking blondie back to mine. You all good here?”

She gave you a taunting oooh before smiling, “you really do work fast. Next time lets see if you can last two full hours before taking someone home.”

You rolled your eyes before giving her a tight hug and grabbing your jacket, “love you, text me when you get home.”

Waving to your other friends you turned on your heels and saw Nanami still standing at the bar patiently at the bar patiently. He hadn't pulled out his phone to pass the time, he simply waited, just as you had told him. God, if he could follow benign instructions like this so well, you can only imagine how well he would do with something more salacious. You had to relax, you knew nothing would happen tonight. He would come over and crash, and that was enough for now.

Nanami counted to six in his head over and over, trying to measure his breaths as though if he increased his oxygen intake he wouldn't be drunk anymore. The sides of his vision were fuzzy and dreamlike, ears hot, tongue a bit dry, all his physical indicators of intoxication were present. He paid his tab, the only things on it were your and his brief shared drink. Realizing that since Gojo( maybe Geto?) had purchased the earlier rounds, he actually had no way of knowing how much he had had tonight. What had he gotten himself into? His attempts to sober up proved inefficient because just as quickly as you had left, you were standing in front of him once more wearing your jacket and sliding your purse over your shoulder. You still looked so beautiful,

“Ready?”

He nodded, “Ready.”

And now he sat in the back of a cab, behind the driver, you on the other side. Had he remembered to open the door for you? Had you two waited outside for the cab to pull up long? A window had been cracked allowing fresh, night air to brush past his face. Your thumb ran over the back of his hand. You were holding his hand. He looked down to confirm that your fingers were interlocked with his resting on the middle seat between the two of you. They looked good like that, his long fingers laced with yours. How long had you been holding hands? Eyes wandering he saw the skin of your thigh where your skirt had ridden up, he wanted to feel your leg against his, the space between you in the backseat suddenly feeling cavernous.

“You’re so far away.” he mutters, not really intending to say so out loud.

Without saying anything you giggled and scooted closer to him, moving your joined hands into your lap and your leg right against his. You tipped your head up to look at him, he wanted desperately to kiss you. Just as he began to lean into your lips you stopped him with your fingers.

“Not yet.” was all you offered him as conciliation.

He nodded, lips still restrained by your fingertips. The faint smell of the lime you had squeezed into your drink still lingering. Even just having his lips on your fingertips sent his body into a frenzy. But he was a patient man. Drunk or not, he knew how to wait for what he wanted. Still, he allowed himself to indulge a little, he kissed your finger tips before pulling back with a sigh, nodding silently.

The rest of the drive was quick, or at least it felt quick. You lived in an apartment building and when the cab pulled up outside, you handed over a few bills before sliding out of the door closest to you. Nanami began to move toward his before it opened suddenly. You had opened his door for him and were now offering your hand to help him out. He stared up at you entranced, he felt romanced by you. It dawned on him that he had truly let himself be “picked up”. Taking your hand he exited the car and tried to think if he had ever had this happen before. Women approached him sure, men too, but whenever he allowed himself to spend the night with someone they had always come back to his place. It allowed him a sense of control, and thus comfort in a vulnerable situation. Vulnerability did not come naturally to him, not now anyway. He wasn't prudish or uncomfortable with casual sex, but he liked to remain the organizer of them. Much like everything in his life he liked it to remain under his control. But tonight, you had steered him right to your door and he was so willing, it dawned on him only once that maybe he could have gotten himself in a dangerous situation. He barely knew anything about you, he knew your name, and now where you lived, but the rest of you was a mystery to him. And yet here he was, following you down the hallway to your apartment door truly not caring what could be on the other side as long as it meant more time with you.

You hesitated at the front door, holding your keys in one hand, aimed at the lock.

“I want you to know I’ll call your friend whenever you like. If you decide you want to leave, you just say so and It won't be a problem. You won't hurt my feelings and it doesn’t have to be awkward.” It felt redundant at his point, but you couldn't shake the discomfort of having taken him home in this state. He had nodded off briefly in the cab, holding your hand tightly, before coming too and staring at you with wide eyes. You nearly backed off then and redirected the driver to the address his friend-- neigh, Bodyguard-- had written down. But then he had wanted you to come closer, and tried to kiss you. You knew he wasn't thinking clearly, but still he sought you out.

Gnawing the inside of your lip you looked up at him nervously, waiting for his response. Nanami looked down at you, his already drooping eyes still warm toward you, “I really like you. I think you’re beautiful. I bet you're a great decorator, can I please see what you’ve done to your apartment?”

His response made you laugh again. He Hadn't really answered you, but it was clear what he wanted. You weren't sure if he was intending to be funny, but nonetheless, the anxiety you had just felt slipped away once again and you turned the lock, leading him inside. You liked your apartment, it wasn't the nicest place available. But it was a two bedroom you could afford by yourself, with a good sized kitchen and small personal patio. Frankly, you were lucky to have even found it. You were a good decorator, and you were proud of the job you had done with the interior. A large, well managed and organized bookshelf along one wall with a recliner and side table, art along the walls you had collected since first moving away from home. A medium sized brown couch that was perfect for movie nights with Sophie or an afternoon nap. You had made a home here, and you were thankful for the chance to show it off.

“Wow…” Nanami’s voice sounded nice inside of your home.

“You like it?” you began to shed your jacket, hanging it on a tree rack by the door and clicking on a few lights. You offered to take his coat.

“It’s beautiful, so warm.” Nanami began to slip his jacket down his shoulder, suddenly realizing he didn't actually remember putting it on, “you did all of this yourself?”

You barely heard his question, distracted by the way his shirt stretched over the muscles of his back, “Uh.. yeah. I moved in about three years ago. So it's been a process but I’m pretty proud of how it turned out.”

You turned to hang his coat next to yours, even they looked cute together. He removed his shoes carefully, still stumbling a bit before he took a few steps into your apartment’s main room.

“Why don’t you take a seat.” you gestured to the couch

He sat gracelessly, cushion sinking more under him than he expected. His couch at home was pretty stiff, yours was soft and pliant under his weight. He steadied himself again, feeling embarrassed suddenly.

“I dont usually drink like this, I drink.. Just not so….like this?” He attempted to save some face in the wake of his stumble.

You stood by the edge of the couch before moving into the kitchen area.

“Are you hungry? I could make us something before bed.” You offered, more needing an escape from the building sexual tension than feeling any actual hunger.

“Oh I couldn’t put you out like that…” He started, feeling his limbs get heavy with comfort as the softness of your couch lulled him to lay down. It wouldn't hurt to just lay down a little, right?

“It's no trouble, really! We may feel better in the morning if we eat something now.” you called from behind him. Your voice seemed further away somehow as he pressed his cheek against the soft suede beneath him.

The couch smelled so good, like incense and home cooked food. He wondered if you had a pet he hadn't yet seen, or if you wanted one. Were you a dog person? Or did you prefer cats? Maybe you were one of those people into reptiles, he could learn to love one if you wanted him to. In this state he would do anything you asked him. Which was precisely why he wasn't getting the one thing he wanted from you, he buried his frustrated expression further into the couch. A small groan exiting his lips. Your hand brushed the back of his neck, rousing him back to attention.

“Kento, honey? You still with me?” your voice was so sweet saying his name, he wanted to hear it again. Once he looked up at you he saw you had a glass of water in your hand offering it to him, “Are you good to sleep in these clothes or should I look for something for you to wear?”

He was still in his dress clothes, not his work dress clothes, but not exactly lounge wear. His button up was stiff and pants had been well tailored, hell, he was still wearing his belt, “thank you.” he accepted the water, and by proxy your offer.

He was left alone in your living room. Slurping down the cool water he tried once against to regain his composure. Had he fallen asleep again just now? You seemed to have abandoned the idea of eating so he must have drifted off. This job really had run him ragged.

“They still may not be the right size, but they’ll work for the night I think.” You returned from the side room, presumably your bedroom, with a pair of black sweatpants, “They used to be my brother’s, but they've got some paint stains from when I redid the bathroom. Sorry I don't really have anything else.”

He accepted them graciously, setting the water down on a coaster before standing, “Thank you, this is all very nice of you. Letting me stay the night like this, I'm really not usually like this…”he started to repeat himself.

“It's really no trouble, it's been a long time since I let a man as handsome as you sleep on my couch.”

The couch. So he wouldn't be joining you in bed tonight. Part of him had hoped that even though he wouldn't be sleeping with you tonight, he could at least sleep in your bed, “The couch, huh?” His half awake state allowed the thought to slip out half formed.

“Mhm, the couch. You two seem to have really hit it off. I'm certain the drool puddle wasn't there when I left.” You pointed to a small wet spot on the cushion where his face had been.

Once again the embarrassment of his current state shot through his body like electricity, so he had fallen asleep again. He hung his head cringing at himself, “Oh jesus…I cant believe this.. I’m--”

You cut him off, “You really don't need to be sorry. I like having you here. And tomorrow morning maybe we can have coffee and talk some more. I hope you don't think I was just inviting you over to fuck you.”

His breath caught, “No, I- well.. I thought you--”

“I, of course, want to fuck you. And I don't really see any point in hiding it anymore now that you’re here. But it’s just not going to happen tonight. And I don't think I'll get a wink of sleep next to you when all I can think about is that. Does that make sense?”You were tired, you didn't want to be coy and demure anymore. You wanted to be frank and upfront about how you felt and what you wanted. Nanami nodded understandingly, although still a little surprised at your confession. You continued, “So, you’ll sleep here. I’ll sleep in my bed. I usually wake up at 8, the door to my bedroom is unlocked. If you need anything during the night, please don't hesitate to wake me up. The bathroom is the door behind you, you can change in there.”

Nanami was awestruck by your instructional tone, it sent his mind in a thousand directions; thinking of you telling him house work that needed to be done on the weekend, to you telling him exactly how to please you. He wanted you so badly, pants growing tighter, breath getting heavier. You stepped forward, nearly right up against his chest.

“I hope you're not too disappointed that I won't take advantage of you tonight.” Your voice soft.

“I respect your self control.” His eyes were locked on your lips, so plump and soft looking.

“I’m going to bed,”You leaned in closer, so close he could smell your perfume again, still as hypnotic as it was in the club, “Goodnight, Kento.”

You pressed your lips against his cheek. His body shuddered as your lips lingered there before you pulled away back on flat feet. Trying desperately to regulate his racing heart, Nanmi looked at you desperately.

“Goodnight.”

You turned back to the side room hitting a wall switch to extinguish the kitchen light before closing your bedroom door and leaving him in your dimly lit living room. He could still feel your lips burning on his cheek, he stood for a few seconds not wanting any other sensations that could potentially dull this one. Finally, he shed his pants, folding them haphazardly and setting them on your recliner. He sweatpants you had given him fit okay, the drawstring was broken so they hung pretty loose around his hips, showing just the elastic of his briefs. He undid the rest of his shirt buttons and folded it to stack atop his pants. He hoped you wouldn't mind, but he never slept with a shirt on. Honestly, he didn't usually sleep with pants on either, he already ran hot but sleeping was an entirely different story. Sleeping fully clothed almost always culminated in him waking up in a pool of sweat as though he had just broken a fever. Laying on his back on the couch he pulled a throw blanket over him, mind racing with thoughts of tomorrow.

In your room you stared up at the ceiling of your bedroom. You had returned to your room like every night, put on an old t shirt and shorts as you always did, washed your face and brushed your hair as though it was any old night, turned on your white noise and gotten into bed as if there wasn't the most attractive and charming man you had ever met settling in to sleep on your couch at this very moment. The nights events played and replayed in your mind on a loop, the intensity of his gaze across the floor, the way he had materialized right in front of you, the feeling of his body pressed up behind yours, his hands on your back back, his hand in yours, him asking to kiss you in the cab, him snoring softly on your couch, the way he had looked at you as he said goodnight. You had never felt so pulled toward another person before. It was far from a perfect night, on a perfect night you’d be fucking each other blind until the sun came up at this very moment. On a perfect night you wouldn't have even been in that club, you would already be his, spending romantic evenings reading and cooking. You wondered if he liked to read, what his favorite meals were, if he wanted pets, if he would want to move in here or if he’d ask you to move in with him. You recognized the street name of his address, he lived in a far nicer part of the city than you did. You wondered what his place looked like, if he had decorated it personally or if he had help. God, you haven't even asked if he had a girlfriend. You checked for a ring while you were dancing, but you got so caught up that the idea of a girlfriend hadn’t even crossed your mind. You rolled onto your side trying to relieve some anxiety, he didn't have a girlfriend. You met his friends, they were intense, sure. And sure, one of them had lightly threatened you, but it didn't seem like the threat was rooted in a fear of infidelity. It seemed like the threat came purely from a safety standpoint.

Were you being irresponsible? Was it smart of you to have brought him here so easily? You rarely brought hook ups here, almost always opting to follow them home and politely excuse yourself in the morning. You found yourself bending so many of your usual rules for him, giving your information to his friends, leaving the club so quickly, bringing him to your apartment. Nanami was so big and looked so strong, it probably wouldn't take a lot for him to overpower you. You had practically offered yourself to him on a silver plate. And yet, you couldn't bring yourself to be afraid of him. You couldn't say that you knew him well enough to know he was safe, but you just…trusted him. And you felt that he trusted you too.

Your lips still tingled from kissing him. It was just a goodnight kiss, a simple gesture intended to convey continued interest but the end of the conversation around sex. You could call it chaste, even. And yet here you were, lips feeling electrified from a mere two second kiss on the cheek. Whatever product he uses in his hair smelled incredible, like honey or tobacco or sandalwood. Something organic and masculine. The soft sound of surprise he had let out when you touched the back of his sleeping neck resounded in your ears. His voice was so pretty, your mind attempted to conjure what he could sound like when he climaxed. If he would let out a low, husky groan, or if he would whine and beg you for more. You felt your pussy dampen at what your imagination offered you. Thoughts of him were consuming you, seconds moving by glacially as you begged for sleep to take over and bring the beautiful, sober light of day through your bedroom window. When it finally did your dreams were abstract but they were blue and honey and blonde.

Nanami could already feel his head pulsing before he opened his eyes. Oh God. When he finally did manage to pry his eyes open, he found himself not looking at his bedroom wall. He wasn't in his bedroom at all. He wasn't in his bed. Where the fuck was he? He sat up slowly, head pounding and back aching. He took in his new surroundings: he was on a couch, there were his clothes folded on the chair, he remembered taking them off, he looked to the coffee table and saw a glass of water mostly untouched with two small painkillers next to it. It must have been left there by you. YOU! This was your apartment, he had slept on your couch in your apartment! Memories of the previous night came screaming back against his aching head. The club, the shots, meeting you, dancing, you taking him home, you taking care of him-- oh god he was so drunk. Had he really fallen asleep twice? He was mortified. He didn't know if he could face seeing you. He remembered Gojo’s threats and his cheeks burned both in embarrassment and rage, where does he get off acting like some kind of guardian over him. Then again, if he was that drunk then maybe he needed it…maybe just not that one. He stood up on shaky, sore legs, even these pants weren't his. He needed to leave before he embarrassed you or himself any further. This was a mistake, he can't believe he let himself get so carried away, you must have thought he was some drunken fool who cant take care of himself. Maybe he was a drunken fool who couldnt take care of himself.

He unfolded his pants and wracked his brain for whether you had told him which door was your bathroom so he could change back into his own clothes. Just as he was trying to remember which door you had said led to the bathroom, you emerged from the side room yawning.

“Good morning!” You stretched a bit as you walked into the kitchen, “I hope you weren't planning on running off before I got out here. I set the coffee to make enough for two and if you don't drink part of it, I'll be buzzing for the rest of the day.”

The lilt of your laugh brought it all back. He knew exactly how he let himself get carried away. You were magnificent, even more beautiful in the morning light, hair undone, legs exposed under your sleep shorts, what appeared to be a well loved sweatshirt hanging off your shoulders. You took his breath away, he couldn't believe you were actually real. Not some dream his drunken state had conjured to torment him.

You were so grateful to have your back turned on him, it was stupid of you to assume he would have slept in that button up, and you hadn't given him a shirt to wear, despite having an extensive collection of oversized t-shirts that would certainly have covered him. But seeing him shirtless in your living room just for the duration of your walk from bedroom to coffee maker was enough to nearly make you falter right then and there. He was so, fucking, built. How does one even get a body like that, did he live at the gym? He hadn't really explained what it was he did for work, was he a trainer? You weren't really a big gym person, but you could be convinced to start going if it meant watching him huff and puff and sweat.

“Good morning. I don't know where to begin…”, His voice was the same as the previous night, low and smooth, but this morning it was more reserved, more even and controlled, “I can’t thank you enough for helping me out last night. I really can't believe my own behavior. I’m truly sorry.”

You turned to face him, you were expecting some kind of hangover induced remorse, but he sounded genuinely apologetic, as though he had imposed himself upon you rather than having been invited as a guest.

He continued, “I know it doesn't mean much, but I don’t go out very often. I had had a rough few weeks at work and my friends wanted to help me loosen up a bit. Apparently I did a little too good of a job with that part. I'm so sorry to have put you out, I hope your night wasn’t ruined by having to take care of me. I'm grateful to you, I'm just so…”

“How do you take it?” you cut him off before allowing him to apologize to you once again, turning back around to the two cups of coffee you had poured.

“Excuse me?”

“Your coffee,” you opened the fridge to see if you even had any milk to offer him.

“I--”

“I have sugar, or honey if you prefer, and then I don't have any cream but i do have oat milk. I usually take mine with one sugar. How do you take yours?”

Nanami was beside himself, mid flagellation, completely shut down and now once again having to ask something of you, “One sugar is perfect.”

You dropped about a teaspoon of sugar into each mug, giving them both a quick stir before setting the spoon in the sink and walking over to the couch to meet him. Getting close you saw that his freckles did extend down onto his shoulders. Small scatterings of cinnamon dusted on fair, even skin. You handed him one mug, your favorite mug actually, it was dark blue and hand thrown. You had bought it at an art fair when you first moved to town, you’d tell him that story eventually.

“I don’t want you to apologize to me. I’m glad I met you last night. And I’m glad you stayed over. And I'm especially glad you're still here now.” You took a seat on your usual spot on the couch, to the right of him. He was still standing, body facing the kitchen but face watching you intently, now holding his mug but not drinking. You patted the spot next to you on the couch. He sat down, silence fell between the two of you as you sipped your coffee again. He followed suit, the steaming drink already starting to soothe his hangover. He couldn't help the soft moan the escaped him, drinking down the relief of caffeine.

“Taste okay?” you checked in.

“Its perfect. Thank you.” he felt himself loosen up, his brain choosing to be kinder and remind himself of the parts of last night that had gone well. Making you laugh, making you smile, dancing with you, the smell of your hair, your lips on his cheek. You were sat facing him, back against the arm of the couch, legs curled in front of you, he sat up right with his feet planted on the ground, allowing his poster to relax a bit and lean against the back of your couch.

You took his relaxation as an opportunity to take him in. So this was what he was like in the morning: shyer, a bit stiffer, still so fucking handsome. His brown eyes were still a bit droopy with sleep (and likely a bit of light sensitivity), a light impression of the hem of your couch cushion had imprinted itself on his cheek, his hairstyle had fallen and his blonde strands now hung loosely in front of his face. And he still hasn't put a shirt on. His torso was like something in a museum. Strong, broad shoulders sat atop full, muscle built pectorals. The hair there was light and looked soft, it became darker and coarser leading down his toned stomach. You longed to run your tongue over every inch of him, but chose instead to sip your coffee and gawk somewhat openly. Finally the silence became too much and you spoke up again,

“When do I need to have you back to your bodyguard?” you teased sliding your knee to bump against his.

“My-- oh, Gojo, don’t worry about him. He’s likely forgotten all about it.” Nanami tried to cover up the hopefulness in his voice. “Do you have anywhere you need to be today?”

It was a Friday, it was plausible you would have to go into a job today, but he didn't know what you did for work so it was equally plausible that you, like him, were off. To his delight you shook your head, smiling coyly over the rim of your coffee cup, leaning back against the throw pillows he had arranged to rest his head last night. Feeling more confident now that he had shaken off the initial mortification, Nanami scooted closer to you on the couch, setting his mug down on your coffee table. He moved one hand to gently take your mug and place it on the coffee table beside his. He then put his hands at the top of your knees and pulled you closer to him, so you were nearly sitting in his lap.

“So I have a question.” He kept his hands on your legs as he spoke.

“Mm?” you were too stunned to form any actual words.

“Last night, you said something to me. Something about wanting to wait until this morning to fuck me,” he shocked himself at his boldness, “how do you feel about that now?”

Your eyes were wide, pupils nearly all encompassing as his hands touched your skin, this was the most you had touched since the dance floor. His fingertips felt like they were burning you, but the way a hot bath burns your skin just before it becomes relaxing.

This was it, you met his eyes, flicking down briefly to his lips, then back up,“I am still, very interested. What about you.”

Nanami moved one hand over your shoulder, to the back of your neck, leaning in so close you could feel his breath on your lips and he spoke, “I can't believe you made me wait all night.”

He pushed his lips to yours, finally feeling the kiss you both had waited so desperately for. His lips were so soft, the coffee you prepared lingering on both of you. His hand on your neck rose to tangle in your hair and yours reached out to find his neck, his shoulder, his hair-- fucking ANYTHING. He leaned over you slightly, catching a momentary moan and sliding his tongue between your lips, he found himself moaning, feeling your tongue slide against his. Your hands were on his back now, feeling the muscles flex and retract at every turn of his head or readjustment of his hands. The hand not on your head how found your waist, sliding up and down your form savoring every roll and bump and divot his fingers could find. Finally, fucking finally he could touch you, his lips slotted against yours over and over, allowing your tongues adjust and readjust, it was messy and desperate and so passionate, Nanami kissed you like he would never kiss you or anyone else every again. Like a man who knew he could die tomorrow and never again know the warmth of a kiss this intense. You pulled away briefly for air and before his hungry lips could pull you back down you started to remove your top. He met your hands half way and finished the motion for you, you hadn't put a bra on since waking up, opting instead for the thick sweatshirt instead. Your chest was now as exposed as his was. As desperate as he was to have your lips on his again, he took a moment to admire you. Your breasts were full, and round enough to fit perfectly in his grip, nipples hardened already in your exhilaration, still so reactive for him. He wondered if you were wet already, and if so- how wet were you. He couldn't wait to find out. He was staring, lost in his thoughts of how best to appreciate everything you were giving him. So much care, so much trust, your beautiful body. He wanted to know how best to show you what it meant to him.

You squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze. Since you shed your top he was staring at you. You didn't mind it at first, but it was starting to make you self conscious. You weren't insecure about your body, but the intensity of his gaze, how you could nearly hear his mind racing, made you desperate to know what he thought. Finally he broke his gaze away from your chest, raising up one hand to hold your right breast firmly, he looked deep into your eyes moving to kiss you again, softer and more intimately but still just as passionate as before.

“So beautiful…” he said in between kisses, “Even better than I imagined. You’re so beautiful.”

You moaned against his lips as he massaged your chest. He redirected his kisses down the side of your neck, across your collarbone and right to the breast held in his hand. He kissed around the nipple before finally taking it into his mouth. A haughty moan was pulled from you as he sucked hard, eyes flicking up to watch you arch under his mouth. He moved to the otherside, and your hand took refuge in the short hair at the back of his neck. The cropped undercut left little to grip, so your nails dug lightly into his scalp. He moaned around your nipple, eyes rolling back slightly, and hips jutting into the couch involuntarily.

You marvel at his reaction, letting out a small chuckle before moving your nails across his hair again, “You like that?”

He nods wordlessly, mouth still full of you. He knew he was kissing hard enough to bruise, he didn't care. The taste of your skin, the feeling of your body under his, of your fingers in your hair had him feeling drunker than last night. He couldn't get enough of you, he was truly insatiable. He began to move to return to the first side of your chest when you pulled him back up to your mouth, kissing him hard.

“‘Need you.” you pleaded against him

“Need you too, so fucking bad.” He agreed, leaning back upright, and bringing you with him.

You pulled off and stood up quickly, your boobs bouncing as you moved, he would have been embarrassed of the sizable tent growing in the borrowed sweatpants, if he had had any remaining brain power to think about anything other than fucking you. But he didn’t. He stood up and followed you into your bedroom. You had a queen bed, a small wardrobe, a vanity table that appeared to double as a work desk and maybe moonlighted as a craft station. He couldn’t wait to find out what clothes went in what drawers, maybe eventually you would let him keep some of his work clothes here so he could spend the night on weekdays. You turned to face him before reaching the bed, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down once again to kiss you. His hands fell to your exposed waist, the skin so soft and supple, they teased along the topline of your shorts, lingering to be told the next move. Without him having to ask, you nodded against his lips, and his hands dipped underneath the waist band, finding not underwear but only skin. His hands gripped into the meat of your ass, pulling moans from both of you. Your own hands had slipped down his stomach and began to remove the second hand pants from him as well. Finding the tangled up positioning complicated, you both pulled away briefly to remove the last of your clothing before you led him in climbing on the bed. He followed suit, ogling openly at how your body curved and folded and stretched with every motion. You were nearly serpentine the way your hips shifted climbing onto your bed. His cock was so hard between his legs, pre cum dripping onto your comforter as he followed your crawl. As you turned onto your back, he was right behind you, moving himself between your legs to meet your lips once more. A hand started on the back of one of your thighs, causing you to shiver deliciously.

“You're so sensitive.” He praised, sliding a finger feather light from your ass to the back of your knee.

You mewled unabashedly, proving his point. Finger trailing back down, his hands now gripped both of your thighs, he was on his knees before you, parting your legs further to finally, FINALLY look right at your glistening wet pussy. He nearly fainted at the sight. Lower lips parted to reveal the most beautiful, most delicious looking pussy he had ever seen. He couldn't stop himself, he leaned right down and planted a kiss directly onto it. His eyes rolled back in his head at the sensation, the taste, the smell, the feel of your pussy lips against his mouth, soft pubic hair brushing his nose and he gave a long lick from bottom to top.

“Thank you,” he was so grateful to you. For last night, for taking care of him, for being here this morning, for being here at all, he couldn't believe he had found you like this, and he planned to make the most of his chance.

Never in your life had you been thanked by someone eating your pussy. But here was Kento Nanami devouring you like he hadn't eaten in weeks and whimpering gratitudes into your wetness. You hadn't had time to even realize his intentions before he pushed his tongue between your lips, and once he had your brain had short circuited, causing you to assume the initial “thank you” had been all in your head. It wasn't until it was a mantra he clung to while increasing his ferocity that you realized he really was thanking you. Your hands flew to his hair again, this time pushing back the longer strands in the front that had gathered in his face. You pulled hard when he first sucked your clit into his mouth, the moan he let out sent vibrations up your body and added to the pleasure he was already giving you. Your legs were over his shoulders, your hands in his hair, his mouth was taking you apart one lap at a time, one of his hands found your breasts again, there was so much sensation it was like he knew precisely how to make you unravel before him.

Nanami didn't even realize he was rutting his hips into your mattress, his body desperately seeking friction to his painfully hard cock. He didnt think he had been this hard in years, he couldnt think at-fucking-all. The only thing on his mind was how good you tasted, how pretty you sounded above him, he wanted to hear you say his name, he wanted to make you say his name. He brought his free hand up and slid two of his fingers up and down your folds, getting them thoroughly wet before stopping them just in front of your already clenching hole.

“Do you want these?” his voice is even lower than before, mouth pornographically drenched in you.

You nodded helplessly, just looking at him between your legs threatening to make you cum. He gave a rough squeeze to the breast he held, “No.” he corrected, “ask me.”

You knew what game he wanted to play now, you knew he could tell how much wetter you had just gotten at his darker tone and rougher grip, the tiny showcase of his strength already sending your mind reeling to know how rough he could really get with you. But not right now, now you needed him, any of him, inside of you more than you needed air. So you’ll play along.

“Please, oh fuck please Kento, please put your fingers inside me, i need it. I need it so bad, please.”

More than pleased with your efforts, he slides his fingers into you, they go in so easily, youre so fucking wet. He resumes his meal, already itching to taste you again, now using his fingers to draw even more wetness out of you and onto his tongue. He curls his fingers slightly upward and your moans raise in pitch. He’s hit it, if he keeps this up you’ll cum in no time. You're panting, your moaning, you’re nearly screaming and Kento continues to thrust his long fingers into you, hitting your g spot with inhuman accuracy. You can feel it, you’re nearly there.

“K-Kento i’m..oh fuck i..I’m cumming of fuck I--”, a half scream-half moan rips through your lungs robbing you of the end of your sentence as he pulls your orgasm out of you. You're shaking, you’re pulling his hair, you’re repeating his name over and over until it's completely garbled in your mouth. He takes everything you give him, holding your hips down firmly so you stay connected to his mouth, not letting up with his fingers until he's satisfied you’re through the totality of your first climax. He continues lazy licks as you come down from your high, slowly easing out his fingers and sucking those clean as well.

From your spot on your back you look down at him still panting and dazed from cumming harder than you thought possible with another person. You and your trusty vibrator had made some good memories, but you never expected someone could make you cum like that on the first try. He knew it too, he could see it on your face as he savored the remnants of your cum on his fingers. You moved your hands to his shoulders, weakly pulling, urging him to come up to you. He followed your lead and moved his body over you. You could finally see how fucking hard he was. And how fucking big he was. Just by looking you had to assume he was seven or eight inches long, and he was thick, thicker towards the head than at the base, two pretty veins wrapped around him, the tip was so pink it was nearly red, sticky with precum and still weeping. It curved upward, wanting to rest against his lower abdomen, and the darker blond hair there that grew at the base of him. He clearly kept it groomed, it not being too long or unkempt, but you were grateful it was there. The monstrous thing would probably only look more intimidating without it.

He could see that you were doing the same mental calculations he had seen in every partner he had ever had, and he tucked away the immature arrogant pride and chose to instead kiss the side of your mouth, along your jaw, and up to the shell of your ear,

“It’ll fit, you're already so wet for me, and if it doesn't fit all in one go, that's okay. We can work our way up to it. Trust me.” He kissed your neck soothingly, and that was all you needed. You could already feel yourself dampening again, you wanted so desperately to please him, had just made you cum so hard, you had to at least try to settle the score. Finding his lips once again, you pulled him into another desperate kiss, this time trailing your hand down and wrapping your hand around his cock. Using his already collected precum to coat his shaft, you moved your hand up and down a few times, trying to find the right rhythm before his hand gripped your wrist sternly, forcing you to look him in the eye,

“I nearly came already just from eating your pussy, if you touch me like that I’ll cum right now and I have to be inside of you at least once before then.” he moves your hand away from him and above your head. You keep it there, although direction is ungiven, and he seems pleased by this. He moves to his knees between your legs, Wrapping your legs around his waist, he grips his desperate cock and slides it against your pussy, collecting as much arousal as he can. He doesn’t want to hurt you, he knows how big he is, he knows if he bottoms out without enough prep it won’t feel good for you the way it would for him, he wants you to feel good. He wants you to make that sound again. That pretty scream of his name and pure pleasure. You watch him as he becomes laser focused on the point where you'll be connected in mere moments, you feel honored, in a way to see him like this. He’s being so attentive, so thoughtful and he's making you feel so good. Your hand reaches up and touches the side of his face, and he leans into your palm, nuzzling into it.

“I trust you, Kento. Please, baby, fill me up, I need you so bad, please fuck me.”

He presses a kiss to the heel of your hand, the light breaks in your voice making cock twitch in his own hand, he can’t wait any longer, he begins easing himself inside. He tries, he really tries to go as slow as he can, but hes so fucked out and desperate he cant control his movements as well as he usually would. Feeling him push inside of you, you’ve never been so full in your life, he stretches you so nicely, a slight burn but the combination of foreplay and your first orgasm soothe any pain or anxiety you may have had. His eyes are closed, his brows are furrowed, lips parted and still wet. He looks so beautiful like this. You think he's finally gotten all the way in as he stops his movements, you couldn't be more wrong, his hands lift your hips up slightly, more aligned with his pelvis and he slides back out an inch, before pushing the rest of his length inside of you. You feel him against your cervix, you feel him along every inch inside of you.

Looking down at you, he finally opens his eyes, you look so beautiful filled with him. Mouth dropped open, a warm flush settling over your chest and neck, one hand gripping his arm tightly, the other buried in the blanket beneath you. He wants to keep you like this forever, he attempts to push even deeper, seeing how far you can really take him. Gasping your back arches away from his grasp, but he pulls you back to him.

“Just like this, take it all. Look at you, such a good girl for me. Taking every inch.” His praise coaxes you to relax again. He's so deep inside of you, it feels amazing, “You think I can move now, baby?”

You nod desperately. He starts a slow thrust, opening you up little by little. He's hitting every spot inside of you, you don't know how but you can already feel another orgasm building from just the first few thrusts.

“How do you expect me to fuck you properly, when she wont let me go.” he teases above you, sliding his fingers in a V shape along your innermost fold, right where you’ve gripped around him so tightly.

“‘Mm sorry.” you gasp out barely registering the conversation.

“Oh fuck,” he sputters, finally able to pull completely out before diving back in.

Youre finally warmed up enough for him to fuck completely. He pulls on your legs to place over his shoulder as he deepens his thrusts. Your moans are syncing with his, his movements are starting to become jerky again, trying to control himself as much as possible, Kento brings a thumb to circle your clit making you see stars behind your eyelids, when you open your eyes the only thing you can see his him, gripping onto you leg firmly, staring intently at how well you’re taking him, watching himself move in and out of you. He feels you start to grow tighter around him before you can even start to whimper out,

“Fuck, fuck, kento I---aughhh.” you came around him with no warning,the feeling of you pussy spasming and tightening around him is nearly enough for him to lose his own. He releases a deep moan.

“Where can I cum, please baby, fuck where do you want me to cum, i’m so fucking close.” he can feel the sweat dripping down his face, he’s so dangerously close to blowing it inside of you. He wants to so badly, but he needs to hear you want him to.

“Inside, please, inside me, i need you to fill me up, please fuck.”

Music to his fucking ears, he carried on with his thrusts as you continue begging him to cum inside of you. Your wicked tongue is so dangerous, anything you asked of him in this moment he would do, as long as it meant he could stay like this forever. His thrusts grow shorter, faster, more frantic, he’s truly rutting against you, so deseperate for release the only word on his lips is a repetition of “fuck” and your name. It sounds so good coming from him, like he was born to say it. Finally, he lets out a long strangled cry, coming from low in his belly. You can feel his cock twitch inside of you as his release covers your inner walls. He thrusts a few more times, emptying himself completely before stilling his movements, still locked inside of you.

Heavy pants fill the room, cutting through the thickened air. Nanami collapses over you, resting his head on your chest, the sound of your heart quickening underneath him cutting a smile into his face. You brush the front of his hair off his head once more, cycling your fingers through the sweat-dampened strands. Contented, satisfied sighs escaped both of you, neither of you spoke, neither of you wanted to, not wanting anything to break up this bliss of this moment.

Morning light dripped through your window curtains, golden rays illuminating his features, the freckles on his cheeks, the soft wrinkles by his eyes, a small scar cut into the arch of one eyebrow. He really was beautiful, you wondered how many people had gotten to see him like this. A man of his stature, his strength, completely unguarded. One of his large hands found yours, bringing it up to his lips, kissing your fingers, so sweet, so intimate. You really could fall in love with him. Finally, he looked up to face you, eyes catching the light and turning gold, he winced lightly, still feeling the sensitivity of his hangover. You flattened your palm in the path of the sun’s beam, offering his tender eyes solace in the shade. The gesture is short lived as he moves up to press his lips against yours again, his still buried cock shifting and igniting your inner nerves once again. Feeling you begin to tremble, Nanami wills himself to pull out and move onto his back next to you, one large arm wrapping around you, desperate to not be parted from you for even a second. You rest your forehead against the side of his neck snuggling up to his side. His smell fills your nose, the lingering cologne that you first smelled on the club’s crowded floor, mixed with something so uniquely and naturally him. You felt his lips press onto your forehead, arms pulling you tighter to his side.

Kento was the first to break the silence, “would you want to have dinner with me tonight?”

Your lips curve warmly already imagining how handsome he’ll look like in a nice restaurant, candlelight flicking over his face, maybe he’ll even wear his glasses.

“I’d love that.”

Author’s notes:

Okay thank you guys! I hope you enjoyed!I know I did, I know I said it earlie but I haven’t written in forever so I would love to hear some feedback! Don’t be scared, I know I can take it!

it’s up on Ao3 too.

[anemonelovesfiction]

11~ Wet Dream

Warnings ⚠️: Masturbation, wet dreams, reader getting caught

Not Proofread

MDNI 🔞

This didn’t turn out as good as I had hoped and kind of hope you guys like it anyway, but my mind is making me think this was absolute garbage…

Translation Station

Yawntutsyìp: Darling; Little Loved One

Syulang: Flower

Tawtute: Sky Person (Human)

Word Count: 2.2k

The comets of Pandora usually came around once every ten years. Today marked the day that Ri’nela, Nor, Teylan, and Aha’ri’s sister could finally join in a tradition their clan usually did by holding a gathering to witness the beauty of what today held.

The four of them had decided to invite the tawtute scientists for this occasion to watch it together as a group. A lot of them had sat scattered in their own little world but enough for one of us to stand near them in case they needed protecting from the wildlife that was active throughout the night.

I’d been stuck with one who decided to be off on her own, she was often quiet and off in her own world, never really bothering me or any of the others and I never knew what was going on in her mind, but she had managed to get comfortable enough to fall asleep.

A couple of her tawtute companions had come by, giggling to themselves as they begun drawing random and obscure objects, when I’d asked them what they were doing they stated it was a tradition they often did whenever someone fell asleep first during a gathering, it made no sense to me but I shrugged it off and believed if they hadn’t been doing anything to harm her, she would be fine.

The ironic thing is that all tawtute had fallen asleep and the comets were due to come within the next hour, I was tempted to draw on their masks in retaliation but believed it to be childish and probably something Y/n wasn’t willing to do either way, yet I wasn’t sure as I didn’t know her.

_________

The sights the forest of Pandora had to offer were mesmerizing indeed, but as always the sun being out caused a heat that made me feel sticky, I raised an arm to wipe the sweat off my brow- as I always did whenever I was outside too long- and come in contact with my own face. I pause for a second as it takes me some time to come to the realization that I had been outside and was able to touch my face, meaning I was outside in the ambience of Pandora without the protection of my mask, I take a few more seconds to collect my thoughts and decide that since I had been breathing well before, I should be fine, right?

I blink and suddenly find myself in the meeting room with Alma, Priya, So’lek, Teylan, Nor, Ri’nela, and Aha’ri’s sister, everyone seems to be in a great mood judging by the smiles plastered all over their faces, I can feel the smile tugging on my lips as well and feel like this victory couldn’t have been done without Aha’ri’s sister doing a bunch of the heavy lifting. I hear someone clearing their throat and find myself looking up toward So’lek, who happened to already be looking back at me and I could feel my face growing hotter the longer he looked at me.

It’s like we had a silent conversation as I knew he wanted me to follow him yet I have no idea what words had been shared between us. Whatever corridor we were currently walking in made me feel as though I was being tugged to follow him, his back moving in such a way that I knew he was walking slowly because of me. I could see his tanhì glowing on his backside as he continued to block whatever light was being offered by the poorly lit corridor, which is why I knew where to keep going as I followed him.

I blink and again am shifted into the middle of the forest at night, the sky glowing a brilliant shade of black as the stars littered amongst the sky lit up the world above me, the bioluminescent plants lighting the world below me, and So’lek standing with his back against a tree. More words are shared again and just like before I’m unsure of what words were spoken, I could just tell based off of a feeling, my heart beating faster and suddenly I can feel myself with my hands and knee’s on the forest floor just as his rough voice finally speaks words I can hear.

“Are you ready yawntutsyìp?” He asks in a heavy voice and all I could do was stay in silence, half of me tempted to agree with being ready to whatever it was he was proposing, and another part of me being scared, although I didn’t have time to figure anything out as my own voice had spoken toward him.

“Yes-“ A breathy moan passes my tongue and I can slightly feel a bit of pressure on my cunt, I hadn’t even realized I had been wet and ready for him until a minuscule breeze blew by and I could feel a coolness on my own thighs right as he pushes the tip in and I can feel myself stretching to accommodate to him.

“You are very tiny, tawtute.” He groans, sounding as though he was struggling to get those words out, I could feel more pressure at my entrance and could tell he was starting to push in deeper, a whine coming from me as I struggled to fit what he was barely pushing in.

“So’lek w-wait,” I nearly shouted as I could feel his movements falter to my requests, my eyes having shut as the pressure grew, I could feel him reaching down past my breast and my stomach and toward my cunt, collecting whatever bits of moisture he could and beginning to rub my clit lightly, sliding back out slowly and thrusting whatever bit of length he had back in.

“Is this better?” He asks and all I could do was let out a low moan, not even a proper answer, and I wasn’t even ashamed of it.

I had grown to like the way So’lek looked and could appreciate the little intricate patterns of his stripes and the way his tanhì were littered around his body as if precisely placed by the great mother herself. I had harbored these feelings for quite a while now but had never said anything in fear of my feelings not being reciprocated and being left heart broken, but at this very moment my heart- amongst other things- had felt full.

“Fuck, So’lek, go faster-“ I mumbled as the strokes on my clit were starting to feel dull and I was growing used to the length he had pushed inside of me, ready to take on more of whatever he had to offer, knowing he wasn’t pushed in to the hilt.

_________

“So’lek w-wait,”

My ears perk up at the sound of my name being mumbled from her lips, I turn my head to look at her to see if she had woken up, but her plump lips had been closed as she lied on her stomach, her head facing me, her eyes still closed. She must have been dreaming, but I wonder what she was seeing behind her eye lids as she had called out my name, curiosity gets the better of me as I sniff the air around her to ensure she was fine. Having had her straying further from her peers whenever she settled on this place meant I had to stray far as well to ensure she was safe.

“Hmmm,”

My ears perk up once more and wonder if she had been injured and was too weak to rouse from sleep, a part of me growing worried and wondering if one of our snakes had managed to sneak up and bite her, its venom spreading through her body as I sat idly by without taking care of the situation. I lean down closer and sniff the air around her, wondering if she was injured in any way, careful to not sniff too close to tickle her and wake her. My brows pinched together when I caught a light floral scent instead, having never smelled that whenever I’d walked past her, wondering why that scent had been emanating from her.

I see as she grinds her hips toward the ground and lets out another moan, my eyes widen at the action as I now realize the kind of dream she had been having, but considering she had spoken my name earlier meant I was involved with it. Had she been harboring feelings for me that I had been blind to?

I turn my head to look for Ri’nela who had been the closest Na’Vi to me but I still had to squint my eyes to get a good look at her. To my surprise she too had been lying down, her back facing me, and from the looks of it she had been breathing evenly which meant she had fallen asleep around the humans she was near and I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

“Fuck, So’lek-“ My head turns at the mention of my name and I couldn’t help but shamefully look at her pleasuring herself as she humped the ground below her.

“Go faster,��� She mumbles her next words with a moan, her tiny hips moving faster and I couldn’t help but look back at Ri’nela to see her back was still toward me, asking the great mother for forgiveness as I turn for my back to face the tawtute before me, staring right at her and taking a breath before sliding my tewng over to the side.

_________

It hadn’t taken long for him to push his cock all the way in and I could feel as though I was full in a good way, the tip of his cock barely kissing the tip of my cervix as he thrusts in slowly, making sure I was comfortable with such a length. I started to feel minimal pressure building in my belly and bucked my hips back to meet his thrust feeling the pressure on my clit as he pushed against my nub harder.

“Oh my God-“

“God is not present here, just me.” He speaks while slamming into me and I couldn’t help but hite my lip and closed my eyes harshly, seeing stars as he pounded relentlessly, I felt my brows knit at an upright position as he continues to pleasure me and my moans starting to become unstoppable.

_________

“You sound like you’re close, syulang, do you want to come?” I asked as I huffed in her ear hearing a high pitched whine before she nods her head and I grin. I continued gliding my hand over my shaft at the rate of her actions and felt myself getting close as well.

“Use your words like the good girl you are,” I whispered in her ear, allowing myself to lick the shell of her ear and hearing another moan ripping through her beautiful pouty lips.

“Y-yes puh-please,” Her movements become more erratic as she digs her hips down to the floor and her nose crinkles lightly, puffs of air coming out rapidly and lightly dusting the inside of her mask with fog with every breath she takes.

“Come for me sweet girl,” I mumble as I feel my cock ready to blow, her gasps of air just before she came having sent me over the edge as rope after rope of my come leaks out of my abused cock, the tip had been a darker blue -almost purple- in color and I watch as her hips still, I bite my own lip and curse in Na’Vi, I’ve never felt that way before, especially with a tawtute.

I place my slowly softening cock back into my loincloth as I attempt to catch my breath, I look up to the sky to thank the great mother for this opportunity- and also to check if the comets have decided to make their appearance but haven’t seen anything- turning my head back down and freeze upon seeing her eyes wide open.

“Did I just-“ She pauses as she looks at me, her eyes crossing for a second before looking around her mask, the drawings probably becoming more visible to her in this state.

“What the fuck,” She whispers to herself and I stare in awe of her use of the language, never being one to have heard her cuss in the first place.

“To answer your question, you did.” I rip her out of her thoughts and watch as her focus returns to me, eyes widening as her pout returns.

“But I did too,” I respond honestly and watch as her eyes widen, finally lifting her head from the forest floor to look down and see the evidence I had yet to cover up, her eyes going toward my clothed member and quickly moving back up to meet mine, embarrassment filling her eyes.

“Did I talk out loud?” She questions quietly, body molding to sit with her legs crossed as she shyly stares at the floor, I can only place my hand underneath her chin and picked it up slightly to make her look back at me.

“You did, but I did not mind, I enjoyed myself as well.” I stated but she stays quiet and a thought flashes in my mind.

“Would you like to draw on your companions masks as well? I know where they hid the marker.” I offer and watch as her face shoots up quickly, a giant smile spreading on her lips as she nods enthusiastically.

[a-aexotic]

hey babes but could u write peeta and reader comforting eachother after they took down snow and everything back in 12 xx

—cw: unedited, depression, after war effects, injuries, angst/comfort trope, crying and kissing —a/n: i hope you enjoyed!!! pls reblog/comment to show ur support :)

Y/N WAS IN DISBELIEF. It was all over, everything was over. They succeeded, they won. But they still felt the same; alert, scared, broken. Y/N thought that when they won, they would be able to finally feel good again. They were still hurting.

Y/N was sitting in the hospital bed, sitting up as the nurses helped them with their injuries. There were burns and cuts everywhere, the nurses kept putting oils and stitches, and it stung but Y/N couldn't even flinch. The pain couldn't compare to what they were feeling inside.

After they left, Y/N was left alone with their thoughts and they couldn't bare that. They put on the slippers that were left at the edge of the bed and they walked through the halls. They were empty since it was late. They soon went back to their room and jumped slightly, seeing someone sitting at their bed.

Y/N relaxed seeing it was just their friend, Peeta Mellark. Peeta turned around, looking at Y/N.

"How are you feeling?" Peeta spoke out, his voice hoarse. Y/N shrugged, not sure exactly how they were feeling. They know what they should be feeling; joy, happiness, accomplished. But all they felt was grief and heartache.

"Not sure. You?"

"Me too."

There was calm silence. Y/N has known Peeta for a long time; she was his Gale. They've been friends for years, ever since they were kids. Y/N was his happiness and light, even after the games. They were his only source of genuine comfort. Even after the capitol captured him, no matter what they did, they could never take away how he felt about Y/N.

They both knew they didn't need to talk, but they were there if they needed to. Peeta slid his hand into their's, wrapping their fingers together and squeezing them.

Y/N sighed out loud, looking down at their lap. "I-I know what I'm supposed to be feeling. But I just don't... feel it."

Peeta nodded. "I don't we're able to. Not after what we've seen."

There was more silence before Peeta spoke again, "people died. A lot of them. Kids, elders. And I feel guilty. Shouldn't we have protected them?"

Y/N looked over at her best friend, sudden rage filling her system. She let go of his hand, grabbing his face. "Don't you dare say that. Don't- You shouldn't feel guilty, Peeta. You're just 18, you can't expect to save everyone. You tried, okay? We tried and we won."

Peeta's eyes started to water, sniffing. "But the kids, Prim-"

"We couldn't do anything, Peeta." Y/N's heart broke in half, her stomach filling with sickness. She felt exactly the way he was, but he didn't deserve it. "Peeta, my god. I am so sorry, I wish I could take away every piece of your pain and put into me. You don't deserve it."

Peeta let out a cry, pulling into Y/N and putting his head into their shoulder. Y/N put their hand on his back, drawing circles.

He cried for a while before he stopped and Y/N let him sit. "I feel broken beyond repair. I can't sleep and I can't stand being awake with my thoughts. It's a nightmare. I don't think I'll ever be okay."

"We will, Peeta. We will always be okay. You don't have to go through this alone, I'll always be here and I promise you, the pain will fade with time." Y/N spoke calmly, still holding onto him.

"None of this is your fault, Peeta. You saved everyone. No matter what you think, you're a savior. The voice in your head, that's telling you all these lies, isn't real. You're strong and amazing."

Peeta sniffled and nodded, trying to process what Y/N was saying.

"It's all okay now, I'm here. I won't let anyone hurt you anymore, I promise." Y/N was trying to believe what they were saying, as well. Peeta let go of Y/N, looking into their eyes as Y/N wiped his tears.

He slowly leaned in, placing a small kiss on Y/N's lips. They were tense at first, but quickly warming up to his lips. Peeta pulled away, looking at Y/N. They grabbed his hand, and leaned in again for a more passionate kiss.

They pulled away, their foreheads still connecting as they looked into each other's eyes, finding comfort in each other after years of torment.

[captain039]

PART 5 Playing with fire

Alpha!Kylo Ren x omega!reader

Warnings: AOB, sexual, jealousy, slow burn, eventual smut, anger issues, swearing, harassment, needle usage, drug usage, dark themes

Am I drawing what I think he’d look like after years of being supreme leader, yes, yes I am

Previous part <-

Maker you were so dead, So dead! You just slapped him, the supreme leader. You locked your door like that would help and braced for an angry alpha barging through the door. After ten minutes thought you slowly sat down and your heart rate slowed. After an hour you thought maybe you were safe and sent a message to Leo to come to your room. The beta appeared quickly and you dragged him inside and locked the door again.

“Well then” he said chuckling nervously.

“I’m going to die” you said and he frowned.

“Why are you going die?” He asked.

“I just slapped the supreme leader!” You hissed and his face fell.

“You’re going to die” he said and you fake sobbed.

“Why the sith hells did you slap him?!” Leo hissed and you sat down.

“He said I wouldn’t be there when my grandma died! She’s getting worse” you whispered and his face saddened.

“Reasonable slap, how is she?” He asked sitting across from you.

“I don’t know, they haven’t called in a few days, my dad just messaged how are you” you sagged.

“I’m sorry” Leo said and you leant against the table.

“Maker I’m stupid! I should have never of left!” You growled annoyed.

“You did it for your family though, your grandma will be able to receive medical help!” Leo tried to comfort, but it didn’t help.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

“Fine I’ve got different suppressants” you said blankly.

Work went as normal, you didn’t see the supreme leader for a few days and finally heard back from your family. Your grandma was in one of the healers houses where they were, she wasn’t getting any better. Your mum and you had a one on one conversation, mostly tears, but you cleared some things. Your sister was another story, you had missed her presentation, an alpha, you guessed it. Apparently she’d been so happy.

You were walking to your office again, keeping to the side as always before you found your office. You opened the door only to frown when you saw no one till a scent hit you. The supreme leader appeared and you gulped as he gestured for you to come in. The door slid shut behind you and you thought, this is where you die.

“I have arranged a ship for you to go see your family” he said and you stared confused. You probably looked stupid with your mouth slightly open.

“What?” You said and he sighed annoyed.

“I have-“ he went to repeat, but you interrupted him.

“I know what you said, I mean why?” You said and he huffed.

“Take it or don’t, the ship leaves in three hours” he handed you a piece of paper and you frowned before he brushed past and left. You saw the time and destination, you probably needed to give it to the pilot, It had a five day departure.

You showed Leo and Brax before you began packing, you sent your family a message too. Though this was probably exile for slapping him. You didn’t care, you got to see your family. The ride there was sickening you hated flying. You arrived within the hour and nerves grew. Your ship landed and you got off, you looked around before you heard your name. You saw your parents and sister and smiled as you ran up to them. You hugged your mum tightly, your dad joining. You let them go before turning to your sister, she didn’t seem happy, but her eyes watered as you opened your arms and she hugged you. After the reunion your dad and mum showed you the new house, it was fancy, fancier than anything you’d seen in the old village. They set up a room for you, you unpacked your things before sitting down with them. You sat awkwardly trying to avoid eye contact.

“I know we talked…” your mum began sighing.

“Why though?” She said voice breaking and you tensed.

“This” you gestured to the house.

“Lana’s in school, you have medical access, access to everything really” you said.

“I felt like a failure” you admitted saddening.

“Honey” your mum said tears down her cheeks.

“I did, I couldn’t do anything for this family, my heats were getting worse, I didn’t want to tell you, medicine was too expensive I couldn’t quit my job either, but it didn’t pay enough” you explained.

“I have medical access, I have new friends, work I’m good at and can provide for you guys” you added wiping your eyes.

“How did you get here?” Your dad asked and you laughed nervously making him frown.

“I think this is exile?” You said and your mother gasped.

“No! No I-“ you sighed.

“The supreme leader and I have had some meetings, I may have or may not have slapped him?” You winced and your mum went pale.

“I’m alive! I swear! He said something horrible!” You explained, but didn’t seem to help.

“Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?” Your dad asked gulping and you nodded.

“He told me to come here for five days” you shrugged and your parents looked skeptical.

After your talk with your parents you went to your sisters room and knocked. She was playing around on a data pad when you entered.

“Hey” you said awkwardly and she sat up turning off the data pad.

“Hey” she shrugged.

“I know we haven’t talked much” you said grabbing the desk chair and sitting as her face went stern.

“It’s my fault I know” you added.

“But I did it for you” you said softly and she sighed.

“I’m thankful for what you did, you got me into school, all these things, but you left me” she scoffed and your heart clenched.

“You left without a goodbye just a note?” She said sternly eyes avoiding yours.

“I know” you said sadly.

“I shouldn’t have left the way I did and I’m sorry for that” you said and she sighed.

“I’m glad you’re ok” she said after some silence and you smiled.

“I slapped the supreme leader” you said and her mouth went open as you smiled. Her stern face cracked into a grin and you both laughed.

It was nice to have a home cooked dinner with your family, it felt like nothing had changed.

You were exhausted from everything and went to bed early. You unpacked more of your things, grabbing your suppressants before something hummed in your mind. You groaned a bit closing your eyes before opening them. A scream went to leave your lips as you saw the supreme leader. You held your hand over your mouth and wondered what in sith hells was going on.

“Enjoying your reunion?” He asked and you stared baffled.

“How? What are-?” You stuttered.

“I am the supreme leader” he stated unamused.

“I know” you muttered.

“Why’re you checking on me” you asked.

“So it is true” he said looking to the vile in your hands. You froze quickly hiding it like it’d make a difference. Your body tensed and you gulped at his stare before he hummed.

“Five days” he said and disappeared. You groaned a bit and let out a breath and glanced around the room, what the hell?

Next part ->

[ohmeadows]

with the experience you have now, what is something you usually do when you feel the creative block so bad that it makes you want to drop all your writing during an indeterminate period of time? (Not considering talking to someone because i don't have friends with the same interests as me)

Lately i have been writing consistently but now i am in a point between the overwhelming need to keep creating and the suffocating need to just stop. the last time this happened not a single word was written in over a year xd

oh and im so in love with your writing btw <3

thank you and i'm sorry to hear you're struggling with a creative block, i know the feeling all too well. (there's a span of years between 2013 and 2016 where i didn't write at all.)

while a little break does do good, i know the threshold to getting back to it becomes so high it feels insurmountable. but it sounds like you need to replenish the well, as i like to call it. think of your writing as a well you draw from, and it needs a steady supply of water to be able to sustain you dipping into it for the power and inspiration to keep going. feeding it involves engaging in texts in a different way. for me, that's reading, and a lot. i sometimes feel so parched i have to steamroll thru ten books before i feel like i have it balanced again.

i've made some posts beforehand on how to approach reading as a writer (wish i'd tagged them better), but it boils down to:

make lists of beautiful words and sentences that you like; could you emulate them? could you write them in your style?

how do the writers pull off the tricks you struggle with? for me this is knowing when to just move the scene along, or how to showcase that time has passed. (i did a whole study on this from my fave books and it boiled down to just writing "A day later/Weeks down the line/Three months passed before she/It didn't take more than forty-five minutes to get across town but it felt like moving backwards through time" which was fun to learn)

just reading for fun. cannot be understated. sometimes you just need to be pulled into a story and feel too dazzled to stop and think to be reminded of how delicious writing feels

and yes, this goes for mangas, comics, scripts, movies, tv shows, even game writing imo (visual novels are great fun for how they do dialogue and emotional appeal).

another thing to not lose touch with the writing as a practice but maybe take a little breather from the project is to start a journal. i like this one a lot personally, there's the concept of morning pages where you get up in the morning and write three pages without stopping or overthinking.

this leads into automatic writing, which is about setting a timer (25 mins is a good one i feel, but even 15-10-5 does wonders) and while it ticks, you have to keep writing. yes, even if all you write is the same word over and over, or your thoughts as they come to you. this is a key component exercise at all writing schools i've ever gone to. personally i like to "guide it" so to speak with a prompt, be it a word (Lust, Rose, Name, Echo) or a full sentence ("She didn't like where this was going.") or an image. what this exercise teaches you is to shorten the distance between hand putting the words down and your thoughts as they process and come to you, as well as embracing writing messy and ugly and shitty because you can always come back and fix a half-assed page, but you can't do anything with a blank one.

third and final thing: movement. go outside. look around. if you can, get moving, take in the surroundings. there's no expectation on you to write anything from this, just let the movement and your thoughts be it. whenever i hit creative rut, i go for a walk. the first half hour my brain is quiet and annoyed. then things start moving in there as well. i'll walk all the way down to the sea and look at the waves and back home and process an idea from it. (i do keep the notes app on my phone readily available for this, but a notebook or receipt or post-it notes also work fine.)

like all art, writing is a practice and the actual act of writing is maybe 20-30% of what it is. nourish the well and it will nourish you back.

+ for what it's worth, i also often try to edge in rest days where i don't write. at least two a week. be gentle and forgiving on yourself.

[loveandfictionforall]

Can I request a long one shot with Endevaour? Where he gets killed?

Reader and Endevour had previously been, years ago, been a couple and he just dropped her for someone else and she finds out that he broke her heart just because the woman had a betrer quirk and would be better to „reproduce“ with?

So Villain!Reader when she finds out makes enough ruckus to draw out Endevour, confront him and then manages to kill him?

Oh my god!! I absolutely adore this request!! I have so much fun writing it!

So, just to be careful: It can be pretty dark for you.

I am sorry that it is not as long as I wished but it just felt right at that length.

Once upon a time, you loved a person in a way you never believed or being capable of. You had devoted your whole life around them. Even trying to go lro hero even though you did not wholly agree with the idea. But you would have done everything for that person.

For Enji Todoroki.

The man you gave your heart and soul to. The man who you wanted to cherish. The man who you wanted to marry. The man who you wanted a family with.

And then he left you.

Just like that.

He stood up up on a quiet evening while reading books. Saying he was sorry and he had to break up. He just left. Without even saying why.

You abandoned your carrier as pro hero. You worked a normal job in child care while being a villain at night. You trained the whole time, shaping your strong wind quirk and mastering it. To the point where a lot of pro heros had no chance against you.

You lived your life content, even though the hurt form all those years ago, was still there. Until you heard from another villain the reason why Enji Todoroki left you. Quirk marriage. He found a woman that supposedly had a better quirk than you, one that would even out his hot fire. He even had four children with her but one died.

And with that, your anger burned through the hurt. He left you and married another woman because she had a better quirk? You would show him how wrong he was. Because air made fire stronger and without air, fire can't last. And so, you would snuff out the shining fire of pro hero number one.

All you had to do, was to draw him out. It was an easy thing since he tended to patrol a lot. You finally had your moment, just after he arrested a mug and the police drove them away. Enji wanted to continue on until he noticed that someone was standing before him, just ten meters away and looking at them. Their aura screamed anger.

Motionless you stood before your former love of your life as you waited that he would notice you. The side street was still cleared out from the quick fight with the mug.

"What do you want, villain?", Enji shouted across the street, his voice booming and sounding annoyed. You just chuckled as he asked that.

"Don't you remember me?", you asked instead. If he didn't, it was honestly embarrassing that you once loved that man who wasn't even able to recognize former classmates and lovers.

"It is no concern for me who you are.", was all he said while he stepped closer. Well, he was smarter a few years ago. And prettier. Thar marriage let him age quickly, you darkly thought to yourself.

"Oh, Enji. That is really sad. Are you that old already that you can't even recognize the person who was for years your partner?", you mocked. Slowly you pushed your hair more out of your face, making your eyes even more visible. A cocky smile was on your lips, dark and promising pain. "After all this time.", you dramatically sighed.

An even bigger smile tugged at your lips as you saw the emotions in Enjis eyes. Thes shock at the recognition who you are. Grinning you nodded, confirming his wordless question.

"Long time no see.", you added after a few seconds of just waiting until something happend. Enji did not react. Something which angered you even more. After all this time, you were not even a sentence worth. Your eyes darkened.

"What happened to you?", he finally asked but it was not what you hoped for. So, instead of answering, you just rolled your eyes and put your hands on your hips.

"You know...", you started. "I spend a lot time thinking about why you left me. Hating myself for being not good enough for you.", you scoffed at yourself, for thinking you were at fault while he was leaving you for another woman. No, he was at fault. He never even apologized. "Then somebody told me the truth. A quirk marriage. You married a woman with an ice quirk, to balance your quirk out. In the hope the children would become stronger than All Might."

Enjis eyes were still wide while you talked. He didn't move. You could just see his emotions in his eyes, his absolute horror and shock. Trembling fists on his side and his mind working as fast as it could to try to find a solution.

"You married the wrong woman.", You said and began to slowly walk towards your former lover. You could see his struggle. His struggle to process and if he should fight or not. Well, he would have no other choice.

After all, you were there to kill him. And succeed at it.

"You could have children with strong quirks. Our quirks combined. Because you know what?", you stopped, than scoffed and shook your head. "No, of course you don't know it. But my quirk would have made yours so much stronger. But now? It will end your life with it's power.", was all you said.

Then you attacked. Not even hesitating. There was just so much anger and resentment. Now was finally your time to let him pay and close that chapter which dragged you underwater for so long.

Sadly or not so sadly, Enji reacted and blocked your enhanced punches. But he tumbled a bit, not suspecting this much power behind it.

You left him now time to react, punching and kicking. It took you some time until he finally attacked back and used his fire. And then you truly started.

You used the air to weaken his fire. Slowly so he would not notice it at first. It meant that you also got some hits in. Your rips were aching from his hard fists and the burn at your thigh felt as it was growing blisters so fast you could feel it.

"We don't have to fight!", was a desperate attempt he tried. You simply ignored him, punching and punching while slowly preparing to finally steal his fire.

The fight pulled some attention. People were on the street, pointing at you and filming the whole fight. Good. Because they would film a fight.

The air around Enji became tighter as you sucked the Oxygen out. His breath was labored, sweat on his forehead as he tried to suck in air. Enji noticed quickly that something was not right. He put a hand on his chest, his wide eyes had terror in it as he realised he was slowly suffocating.

"What are you doing?", Enji breathless asked. He had stopped attacking you, after his body became weak from the lack of Oxygen.

"I am sucking the Oxygen out of the air around you. You can't escape. It is too late.", you grinned. You could see how his legs began to tremble, struggling to keep him upright. It just took some more seconds until his legs gave out and he fell onto his knees. His hand was at his throat while his breathing became erratic.

Soon, he would not notice you anymore. He would be to much in panic.

"You will die a slow and painful death.", you began. His eyes focused an you one more while you stepped towards him, just shy of a metre away from him.

"I hurt so much after what you did to me. This is your final lesson. You were arrogant and cocky and it will be your end. And you know what? At the end, my quirk was better suited for yours than ice."

And with that, you pulled the last remaining Oxygen from the air, watching as Enjis eyes bulged and became bloodshot. A single tear worked its way across his cheek as he realised, he would now die. So many unspoken words were in his throat. Many apologies and even more words of love. Words he never spoke in his whole life and now regretted.

"Goodbye, Enji Todoroki."

And his vision blacked out as his body lost the battle of consciousness. He fell hard against the pavement with his head. It took just some more seconds until his heart stopped beating.

The people around you were screaming in terror while you stood motionless beside his body, watching it for a few more seconds to make sure he would not move again before you cancelled your quirk and launched yourself into the air to escape the incoming heros.

Some days passed after the tragic death of pro hero number one, Enji Todoroki. His family was mourning and his funeral was already held.

You quietly sipped on your cocktail at the bar, watching the people mingling with others, laughing, drinking and dancing.

"Hey, honey.", A warm voice said towards you. A kiss was pressed on your head and you turned towards your boyfriend to properly kiss him.

"How was patrol, Shinya? People still shocked about Enji?", you smirked. A smile played across your boyfriends lips as he kissed you once more. "He is not important anymore, darling."

[hqmillioncorn]

True love will NOT bloom on the battlefield

“Bull’s eye!” Oleo pumped a fist into the air and let out another holler.  Another dot had pierced their dartboard and even though Oleo had far less points than Butter at the moment he was still glad to celebrate every little victory that he got. “Do you think Momoka would believe me if I told her I hit a bull’s eye?” Oleo asked his best friend Butter.  “I think she’d believe you!” That was just like Butter to say, ever the optimist.  “Ha! Knew it!” Oleo smiled and watched as Butter got ready to take his turn. “Yeah! Get em’ Butter!” Truthfully Oleo had no idea why there was a drawing of B’ig Nunh on Butter’s dartboard but if that’s how Butter wanted to play then who was he to say no to it.  Maybe it would explain how good Butter was doing this game as opposed to the rest but who could really know?

ffxiv write day 19: taken with @windupnamazu 's lunya and @windupiceheart 's vertical and (sorry) b'ig nunh

babycorn practices her reading in what perhaps is the worst way possible

“LUnyaaaaaaaaaaAAAAA!!!!”

The sound of someone knocking about a million times per second was enough to knock Lunya out of her weaving. “Babycorn.” There were only two people in the mansion that ever knocked on her door like that. One of them was Coco and the other was Babycorn. 

And since there was no more than ten seconds of uncontrollable wailing on the other side of the door–the more likely it was that it was Babycorn. 

Lunya stabbed her sewing needle in its cushion and hid it away just outside of Babycorn’s view. “Coming!” She yelled back, hoping that would get Babycorn to stop hitting her door so hard. It did not. 

“Lunya! Lunya! Lunya!” 

Babycorn was knocking and saying Lunya’s name in a rhythm now. It was almost impressive how long she was able to keep it up. 

The knocking finally came to a stop when Lunya grabbed her doorknob, swinging her door open not long after that. As Lunya had correctly guessed, it was Babycorn on the other side of the door all along. “Hi Lunya!” Babycorn innocently waved at her. Almost like she hadn’t been knocking on Lunya’s door like a maniac. “I have a question!!” 

Lunya watched as Babycorn wiggled her raised hand around all over the place. “Hi to you too Babycorn!” 

“Lunya I read a book!” Babycorn smiled. 

Of course Babycorn had forgotten about her earlier question. Lunya figured she would ask again when she remembered. As always. “Oh! Congrats!” Lunya knew Babycorn was slowly learning to read and had even started to practice her writing too. 

She was making progress according to the writing Lunya had seen on the walls earlier that week. “You’re not writing on the walls anymore right Babycorn?” 

“Nope!” Babycorn shook her head. “I’m writing on the ground now!”

“You what?” 

Before Lunya could ask Babycorn to elaborate more on what she had just admitted, Babycorn remembered what she had come to Lunya’s room to do in the first place. “Oh! That’s right Lunya! I wanted to ask you something super duper important!!” 

Things that were super duper important to Babycorn often ranged from either the most mundane thing ever to asking Lunya what she was supposed to do when the kitchen was on fire.

While Lunya tried to smell the air for any sign of smoke let Babycorn know she could ask whatever question she had burning in her mind. Which hopefully was the only thing burning. 

“Lunya! Am I dating B’ig Nunh?”

Suddenly Lunya started to wish there was smoke in the air instead. “...C-Can you repeat that?” By now there weren’t too many things Babycorn did that would surprise or shock Lunya, having known the girl for years now. But every now and then something would happen that reminded Lunya she could never keep her guard down.

Surely she hadn’t heard Babycorn right. Right?

“Am I dating B’ig Nunh?!” Once she asked the second time, Babycorn pulled up the book she had been holding under her arm the entire time. “This book said I went on a date with him!” The book she held up had a picture of B’ig Nunh on the cover along with the very concerning words of Go and date and with. Not in that order. 

The aforementioned catboy was mysteriously shirtless and posing on a beach looking straight at the person looking at the cover. There was a sticker on the cover that gave Lunya all the answers to the newly born confusion in her head.

“Y slash N…” Lunya stroked her chin. She didn’t want to look at the cover any longer than she had to and pushed the book down and out of sight, Babycorn didn’t seem to mind, she thought it was fun. 

“Babycorn what did I say about reading books with B’ig Nunh on the cover?”

“Not to…” Babycorn held the book up, trying to use it as a shield between her and Lunya. “But I didn’t read it! Someone else read it for me!” 

Lunya thought she also made sure to tell everyone she could to not read any books with B’ig Nunh on the cover to Babycorn. The mystery of how Babycorn could have read the books wouldn’t stay unsolved for long. 

A sprinkle of green cookie magic started to come down from the ceiling. Until it all came to a head when Airy landed on Babycorn’s head without a care in the world. “Hey.” Airy greeted Lunya in her own callous way. By acting as if Lunya wasn’t even there. 

Of course. “No Babycorn. You are not dating B’ig Nunh.” Lunya didn’t even want to imagine a world where that even had the slightest chance of happening. 

“Are you sure??” Babycorn sniffled. 

“Yes. Very sure!” 

“Really sure????”

Lunya knew where this was going. “I’m. Sure.” No matter how many times Lunya would tell her the opposite of what Babycorn was afraid of, she wouldn’t take her for her word. Even if Babycorn lived by the singular life rule that Lunya knew everything. No matter the topic. “Alright you know what-” 

Lunya grabbed Babycorn’s hand and spun her around towards the outside. She was sure that B’ig Nunh was home and if even she couldn’t convince Babycorn of the obvious, then surely hearing it from the mouth of B’ig Nunh himself would. 

If not then, Lunya would just have to kill him. 

“Woah where are we going Lunya?” Babycorn smiled, her worries of her dating B’ig Nunh had probably blown out of her head by now. 

“We’re going to go find B’ig and talk to him!” Lunya hummed. She of course was just a very normal lalafell and there was absolutely no danger involved in B’ig Nunh talking with Lunya Lanya about this. 

“And you-!” 

Lunya grabbed one of Airy’s wings and tugged on it. “OW?! Watch the wings!” Airy tried to shake herself out of Lunya’s grasp but her struggle was in vain. 

“You’re grounded.

“You’re not even my MOM?!?!”

Regardless, Airy flew all the way back to Babycorn’s room and spent the rest of the day there. Something about Lunya Lanya specifically scared her out of her wits. 

Outside of the mansion B’ig Nunh and Vertical Height were playing fetch with Cherrypit. Throwing cans at him to watch him catch them and eat them. It was enriching for the tiny little normal baby lalafell and also entertaining to watch. 

“okay cherry catch.” Vertical threw a can way up in the air and watched as Cherrypit caught it, biting down on it. “cool.” Cherrypit crunched the can with his very sharp teeth like it was a soft sugar cookie. 

“Again! Again!” Cherrypit cheered. This was way funner to do than whatever b’oring book his sister was reading. 

B’ig Nunh picked up another can from the pile and threw it in his hands. “Alright I’m gonna put all my strength into this one! Get ready!!” Cherrypit showed him how ready he was by running around in a circle very excitedly. 

“Go!” The can flew upwards! Just as B’ig Nunh had warned, it went really high up!

Just as Cherrypit got ready to leap after it, he heard something. It sounded like a door opening. He turned to see the front door of the mansion opening. Out from the inside of the house came Lunya followed by Babycorn, who was practically being dragged outside. “Bebe! Lulu!” Cherrypit cheered and ran over to hug them both.

Which was entirely possible with the way his arms worked. 

Cherrypit extended his arms out wide and grabbed both girls in a great big hug. “Hi Cherry!” Lunya managed to squeeze her arm out and give Cherrypit a little pat on his arm. “Are you having fun with B’ig and Verty?” 

“Yeah yeah!” 

“How much fun?” Babycorn rested her head on Cherrypit’s arm to ask. Cherrypit nodded and stretched out his arms wiiiiide open, dropping both Lunya and Babycorn to the ground. While one of them gently floated to the ground the other fell flat on her face and no I won’t say who did what,  it should be so obvious by now. 

“hey lunya hey babycorn.” Vertical raised her hand to greet her good friends, while still looking up at the sky. 

B’ig Nunh also got ready to say hi to his friends but happened to be stopped right in his tracks by Babycorn running up to him, crying her eyes out. 

If that wasn’t bad enough the next words out of her mouth were almost shocking enough to kill him.

“B’iggy are we dating?” 

Babycorn was sobbing, snot coming out of her nose.It was very dire. 

B’ig Nunh froze like a statue. “What? What? What? What????” His situation was also very dire. “NO???!!! NO WE’RE NOT???”  What kind of question was that?! Where did it come from!? Why was Babycorn asking him this?! 

B’ig resisted the urge to run away and hide because if he did that he couldn’t explain to Babycorn how wrong she was. Then that would lead to her to actually think what she said was true. Which it obviously wasn’t!!

All of this was hitting B’ig Nunh at once like a…like a…

“like a can from the sky?” 

“Well actually I was going to say like a ton of bric-”

Then a can from the sky bumped B’ig Nunh on his lovely moogle cap, right before tumbling to the ground, free for Cherrypit to bite and run off with. His current plan was to bury it in the backyard for later. 

Lunya let B’ig Nunh gather his bearings before talking to him. “See Babycorn? If B’ig Nunh says you’re not dating, then you’re not dating.” There was a very threatening aura around Lunya,  “End of story! 🤗” 

Babycorn looked down at her book. She didn’t understand a single word on the cover or on the back. All she knew was that her good friend B’iggy Nunh was on the cover and he would never lie to her. “But my book said…”

“If a book told you to walk off a bridge would you?” Lunya asked.

“...Well…”

“Babycorn Corn!” 

“No! I wouldn’t!” She was scared of heights! 

Vertical looked down at the book Babycorn was holding in her shivering hands. There was something about it that she recognized. “is that the book that told you you were dating b’ig nunh?” 

Babycorn nodded, tearfully. 

Now Vertical remembered. “i saw b’ig carrying a pile of those books. he said they were advanced copies made to sell later.” Vertical also remembered seeing B’ig Nunh reading one of them from the time she went to bed to when she woke up early the next morning.  

“They’re part of the B’ig Nunh self shipping collection…sniffle…” B’ig Nunh cried, sobbed, whined, all of the above. There were currently around ten books in the collection. They were best sellers for some reason. 

(the reason was that babycorn always bought half the stock. Something nobody but tataru knew yet) 

“Yeah. I figured.” Lunya huffed. “No more reading those kinds of books. Okay Babycorn?” Otherwise they would have to have this conversation more than once and once was already enough for Lunya. 

“Okay…” Babycorn sighed, “Do I also have to not read the other thing too?” 

Everyone was afraid to ask. Especially B’ig Nunh who was basically already dead. 

“what other thing…” Vertical finally decided to ask. 

Babycorn opened the B’ig Nunh takes you to the B’each book and pulled something out, it somehow looked larger than the book itself. “This!” She turned it around and showed her friends the Sexy B’ig Nunh Calendar for the current year she had. It was a costume edition, featuring B’ig Nunh in all sorts of different costumes for the different months!

“woah.” Vertical said while she also noticed B’ig Nunh dissolving into dust and blowing away in the wind. 

Without even taking a second to ask why she had that, Lunya grabbed both the book and the calendar from Babycorn. “NO! You cannot read either!!” She also made sure to grab Babycorn and carried her back to her room with Cherrypit following right behind her. 

“Aww…” Babycorn sadly sighed. 

“Don’t worry Verty! I’ll get the broom and you can sweep up B’ig when I get back!”

“thanks.” Vertical gave a thumbs-up.

[mere-christianity]

Mere Christianity Podcast: Part 1

A Christian apologetical book by the British author C. S. Lewis. It was adapted from a series of BBC radio talks made between 1941 and 1944, originally published as three separate volumes: Broadcast Talks (1942), Christian Behaviour (1943), and Beyond Personality (1944). The book consists of four parts: the first presents Lewis's arguments for the existence of God; the second contains his defence of Christian theology, including his notable "Liar, lunatic, or Lord" trilemma; the third has him exploring Christian ethics, among which are cardinal and theological virtues; in the final, he writes on the Christian conception of God.

By Clives Stapleton Lewis, Professor at Cambridge University, England.

Preface

The contents of this book were first given on the air, and then published in three separate parts as The Case for Christianity (1943),  Christian Behaviour (1943), and Beyond Personality (1945). In the printed versions I made a few additions to what I had said at the microphone, but otherwise left the text much as it had been. A "talk" on the radio should, I think, be as like real talk as possible, and should not sound like an essay being read aloud.

In my talks I had therefore used all the contractions and colloquialisms I ordinarily use in conversation. In the printed version I reproduced this, putting don't and we've for do not and we have. And wherever, in the talks, I had made the importance of a word clear by the emphasis of my voice, I printed it in italics.

I am now inclined to think that this was a mistake, an undesirable hybrid between the art of speaking and the art of writing. A talker ought to use variations of voice for emphasis because his medium naturally lends itself to that method: but a writer ought not to use italics for the same purpose. He has his own, different, means of bringing out the key words and ought to use them. In this edition I have expanded the contractions and replaced most of the italics by recasting the sentences in which they occurred: but without altering, I hope, the "popular" or "familiar" tone which I had all along intended. I have also added and deleted where I thought I understood any part of my subject better now than ten years ago or where I knew that the original version had been misunderstood by others.

The reader should be warned that I offer no help to anyone who is hesitating between two Christian "denominations." You will not learn from me whether you ought to become an Anglican, a Methodist, a Presbyterian, or a Roman Catholic.

This omission is intentional (even in the list I have just given the order is alphabetical). There is no mystery about my own position. I am a very ordinary layman of the Church of England, not especially "high," nor especially "low," nor especially anything else. But in this book I am not trying to convert anyone to my own position. Ever since I became a Christian I have thought that the best, perhaps the only, service I could do for my unbelieving neighbours was to explain and defend the belief that has been common to nearly all Christians at all times. I had more than one reason for thinking this. In the first place, the questions which divide Christians from one another often involve points of high Theology or even of ecclesiastical history which ought never to be treated except by real experts.

I should have been out of my depth in such waters: more in need of help myself than able to help others. And secondly, I think we must admit that the discussion of these disputed points has no tendency at all to bring an outsider into the Christian fold. So long as we write and talk about them we are much more likely to deter him from entering any Christian communion than to draw him into our own. Our divisions should never be discussed except in the presence of those who have already come to believe that there is one God and that Jesus Christ is His only Son. Finally, I got the impression that far more, and more talented, authors were already engaged in such controversial matters than in the defence of what Baxter calls "mere" Christianity. That part of the line where I thought I could serve best was also the part that seemed to be thinnest. And to it I naturally went.

So far as I know, these were my only motives, and I should be very glad if people would not draw fanciful inferences from my silence on certain disputed matters.

For example, such silence need not mean that I myself am sitting on the fence. Sometimes I am. There are questions at issue between Christians to which I do not think I have the answer. There are some to which I may never know the answer: if I asked them, even in a better world, I might (for all I know) be answered as a far greater questioner was answered: "What is that to thee? Follow thou Me." But there are other questions as to which I am definitely on one side of the fence, and yet say nothing. For I was not writing to expound something I could call "my religion," but to expound "mere" Christianity, which is what it is and was what it was long before I was born and whether I like it or not.

Some people draw unwarranted conclusions from the fact that I never say more about the Blessed Virgin Mary than is involved in asserting the Virgin Birth of Christ. But surely my reason for not doing so is obvious? To say more would take me at once into highly controversial regions. And there is no controversy between Christians which needs to be so delicately touched as this. The Roman Catholic beliefs on that subject are held not only with the ordinary fervour that attaches to all sincere religious belief, but (very naturally) with the peculiar and, as it were, chivalrous sensibility that a man feels when the honour of his mother or his beloved is at stake.

It is very difficult so to dissent from them that you will not appear to them a cad as well as a heretic. And contrariwise, the opposed Protestant beliefs on this subject call forth feelings which go down to the very roots of all Monotheism whatever. To radical Protestants it seems that the distinction between Creator and creature (however holy) is imperilled: that Polytheism is risen again. Hence it is hard so to dissent from them that you will not appear something worse than a heretic, an idolater, a Pagan. If any topic could be relied upon to wreck a book about "mere" Christianity, if any topic makes utterly unprofitable reading for those who do not yet believe that the Virgin's son is God, surely this is it.

Oddly enough, you cannot even conclude, from my silence on disputed points, either that I think them important or that I think them unimportant. For this is itself one of the disputed points. One of the things Christians are disagreed about is the importance of their disagreements. When two Christians of different denominations start arguing, it is usually not long before one asks whether such-and-such a point "really matters" and the other replies: "Matter? Why, it's absolutely essential."

All this is said simply in order to make clear what kind of book I was trying to write; not in the least to conceal or evade responsibility for my own beliefs. About those, as I said before, there is no secret. To quote Uncle Toby: "They are written in the Common-Prayer Book."

The danger dearly was that I should put forward as common Christianity anything that was peculiar to the Church of England or (worse still) to myself. I tried to guard against this by sending the original script of what is now Book II to four clergymen (Anglican, Methodist, Presbyterian, Roman Catholic) and asking for their criticism. The Methodist thought I had not said enough about Faith, and the Roman Catholic thought I had gone rather too far about the comparative unimportance of theories in explanation of the Atonement. Otherwise all five of us were agreed. I did not have the remaining books similarly "vetted" because in them, though differences might arise among Christians, these would be differences between individuals or schools of thought, not between denominations.

So far as I can judge from reviews and from the numerous letters written to me, the book, however faulty in other respects, did at least succeed in presenting an agreed, or common, or central, or "mere" Christianity. In that way it may possibly be of some help in silencing the view that, if we omit the disputed points, we shall have left only a vague and bloodless H.C.F. The H.C.F. turns out to be something not only positive but pungent; divided from all non-Christian beliefs by a chasm to which the worst divisions inside Christendom are not really comparable at all.

If I have not directly helped the cause of reunion, I have perhaps made it clear why we ought to be reunited. Certainly I have met with little of the fabled odium theologicum from convinced members of communions different from my own. Hostility has come more from borderline people whether within the Church of England or without it: men not exactly obedient to any communion. This I find curiously consoling. It is at her centre, where her truest children dwell, that each communion is really closest to every other in spirit, if not in doctrine. And this suggests that at the centre of each there is something, or a Someone, who against all divergences of belief, all differences of temperament, all memories of mutual persecution, speaks with the same voice.

So much for my omissions on doctrine. In Book III, which deals with morals, I have also passed over some things in silence, but for a different reason. Ever since I served as an infantryman in the first world war I have had a great dislike of people who, themselves in ease and safety, issue exhortations to men in the front line. As a result I have a reluctance to say much about temptations to which I myself am not exposed. No man, I suppose, is tempted to every sin. It so happens that the impulse which makes men gamble has been left out of my make-up; and, no doubt, I pay for this by lacking some good impulse of which it is the excess or perversion. I therefore did not feel myself qualified to give advice about permissable and impermissable gambling: if there is any permissable, for I do not claim to know even that. I have also said nothing about birth-control. I am not a woman nor even a married man, nor am I a priest. I did not think it my place to take a firm line about pains, dangers and expenses from which I am protected; having no pastoral office which obliged me to do so.

Far deeper objections may be felt, and have been expressed,  against my use of the word Christian to mean one who accepts the common doctrines of Christianity. People ask: "Who are you, to lay down who is, and who is not a Christian?" or "May not many a man who cannot believe these doctrines be far more truly a Christian, far closer to the spirit of Christ, than some who do?" Now this objection is in one sense very right, very charitable, very spiritual, very sensitive. It has every amiable quality except that of being useful. We simply cannot, without disaster, use language as these objectors want us to use it. I will try to make this clear by the history of another, and very much less important, word.

The word gentleman originally meant something recognisable; one who had a coat of arms and some landed property. When you called someone "a gentleman" you were not paying him a compliment, but merely stating a fact. If you said he was not "a gentleman" you were not insulting him, but giving information. There was no contradiction in saying that John was a liar and a gentleman; any more than there now is in saying that James is a fool and an M.A. But then there came people who said, so rightly, charitably, spiritually, sensitively, so anything but usefully, "Ah, but surely the important thing about a gentleman is not the coat of arms and the land, but the behaviour? Surely he is the true gentleman who behaves as a gentleman should? Surely in that sense Edward is far more truly a gentleman than John?"

They meant well. To be honourable and courteous and brave is of course a far better thing than to have a coat of arms. But it is not the same thing. Worse still, it is not a thing everyone will agree about. To call a man "a gentleman" in this new, refined sense, becomes, in fact, not a way of giving information about him, but a way of praising him: to deny that he is "a gentleman" becomes simply a way of insulting him. When a word ceases to be a term of description and becomes merely a term of praise, it no longer tells you facts about the object: it only tells you about the speaker's attitude to that object. (A "nice" meal only means a meal the speaker likes.)

A gentleman, once it has been spiritualised and refined out of its old coarse, objective sense, means hardly more than a man whom the speaker likes. As a result, gentleman is now a useless word. We had lots of terms of approval already, so it was not needed for that use; on the other hand if anyone (say, in a historical work) wants to use it in its old sense, he cannot do so without explanations. It has been spoiled for that purpose.

Now if once we allow people to start spiritualising and refining, or as they might say "deepening," the sense of the word Christian, it too will speedily become a useless word. In the first place, Christians themselves will never be able to apply it to anyone. It is not for us to say who, in the deepest sense, is or is not close to the spirit of Christ. We do not see into men's hearts. We cannot judge, and are indeed forbidden to judge.

It would be wicked arrogance for us to say that any man is, or is not, a Christian in this refined sense. And obviously a word which we can never apply is not going to be a very useful word. As for the unbelievers, they will no doubt cheerfully use the word in the refined sense. It will become in their mouths simply a term of praise. In calling anyone a Christian they will mean that they think him a good man. But that way of using the word will be no enrichment of the language, for we already have the word good. Meanwhile, the word Christian will have been spoiled for any really useful purpose it might have served.

We must therefore stick to the original, obvious meaning. The name Christians was first given at Antioch (Acts 11:26) to "the disciples," to those who accepted the teaching of the apostles. There is no question of its being restricted to those who profited by that teaching as much as they should have. There is no question of its being extended to those who in some refined, spiritual, inward fashion were "far closer to the spirit of Christ" than the less satisfactory of the disciples. The point is not a theological, or moral one. It is only a question of using words so that we can all understand what is being said. When a man who accepts the Christian doctrine lives unworthily of it, it is much clearer to say he is a bad Christian than to say he is not a Christian.

I hope no reader will suppose that "mere" Christianity is here put forward as an alternative to the creeds of the existing communions, as if a man could adopt it in preference to Congregationalism or Greek Orthodoxy or anything else. It is more like a hall out of which doors open into several rooms. If I can bring anyone into that hall I shall have done what I attempted. But it is in the rooms, not in the hall, that there are fires and chairs and meals. The hall is a place to wait in, a place from which to try the various doors, not a place to live in. For that purpose the worst of the rooms (whichever that may be) is, I think, preferable.

It is true that some people may find they have to wait in the hall for a considerable time, while others feel certain almost at once which door they must knock at. I do not know why there is this difference, but I am sure God keeps no one waiting unless He sees that it is good for him to wait. When you do get into your room you will find that the long wait has done you some kind of good which you would not have had otherwise. But you must regard it as waiting, not as camping. You must keep on praying for light: and, of course, even in the hall, you must begin trying to obey the rules which are common to the whole house. And above all you must be asking which door is the true one; not which pleases you best by its paint and paneling.

In plain language, the question should never be: "Do I like that kind of service?" but "Are these doctrines true: Is holiness here? Does my conscience move me towards this? Is my reluctance to knock at this door due to my pride, or my mere taste, or my personal dislike of this particular door-keeper?"

When you have reached your own room, be kind to those Who have chosen different doors and to those who are still in the hall. If they are wrong they need your prayers all the more; and if they are your enemies, then you are under orders to pray for them. That is one of the rules common to the whole house.

Book 1 The Law of Human Nature

Chapter 1.

Everyone has heard people quarrelling. Sometimes it sounds funny and sometimes it sounds merely unpleasant; but however it sounds, I believe we can learn something very important from listening to the kind of things they say. They say things like this: "How'd you like it if anyone did the same to you?", "That's my seat, I was there first", "Leave him alone, he isn't doing you any harm",  "Why should you shove in first?", "Give me a bit of your orange, I gave you a bit of mine", "Come on, you promised." People say things like that every day, educated people as well as uneducated, and children as well as grown-ups. Now what interests me about all these remarks is that the man who makes them is not merely saying that the other man's behaviour does not happen to please him. He is appealing to some kind of standard of behaviour which he expects the other man to know about. And the other man very seldom replies: "To hell with your standard." Nearly always he tries to make out that what he has been doing does not really go against the standard, or that if it does there is some special excuse. He pretends there is some special reason in this particular case why the person who took the seat first should not keep it, or that things were quite different when he was given the bit of orange, or that something has turned up which lets him off keeping his promise. It looks, in fact, very much as if both parties had in mind some kind of Law or Rule of fair play or decent behaviour or morality or whatever you like to call it, about which they really agreed. And they have. If they had not, they might, of course, fight like animals, but they could not quarrel in the human sense of the word. Quarrelling means trying to show that the other man is in the wrong. And there would be no sense in trying to do that unless you and he had some sort of agreement as to what Right and Wrong are; just as there would be no sense in saying that a footballer had committed a foul unless there was some agreement about the rules of football.

Now this Law or Rule about Right and Wrong used to be called the Law of Nature. Nowadays, when we talk of the "laws of nature" we usually mean things like gravitation, or heredity, or the laws of chemistry. But when the older thinkers called the Law of Right and Wrong "the Law of Nature," they really meant the Law of Human Nature. The idea was that, just as all bodies are governed by the law of gravitation and organisms by biological laws, so the creature called man also had his law, with this great difference, that a body could not choose whether it obeyed the law of gravitation or not, but a man could choose either to obey the Law of Human Nature or to disobey it.

We may put this in another way. Each man is at every moment subjected to several different sets of law but there is only one of these which he is free to disobey. As a body, he is subjected to gravitation and cannot disobey it; if you leave him unsupported in mid-air, he has no more choice about falling than a stone has. As an organism, he is subjected to various biological laws which he cannot disobey any more than an animal can. That is, he cannot disobey those laws which he shares with other things; but the law which is peculiar to his human nature, the law he does not share with animals or vegetables or inorganic things, is the one he can disobey if he chooses.

This law was called the Law of Nature because people thought that every one knew it by nature and did not need to be taught it. They did not mean, of course, that you might not find an odd individual here and there who did not know it, just as you find a few people who are colour-blind or have no ear for a tune. But taking the race as a whole, they thought that the human idea of decent behaviour was obvious to every one. And I believe they were right. If they were not, then all the things we said about the war were nonsense. What was the sense in saying the enemy were in the wrong unless Right is a real thing which the Nazis at bottom knew as well as we did and ought to have practised? If they had had no notion of what we mean by right, then, though we might still have had to fight them, we could no more have blamed them for that than for the colour of their hair.

I know that some people say the idea of a Law of Nature or decent behaviour known to all men is unsound, because different civilisations and different ages have had quite different moralities.

But this is not true. There have been differences between their moralities, but these have never amounted to anything like a total difference. If anyone will take the trouble to compare the moral teaching of, say, the ancient Egyptians, Babylonians, Hindus, Chinese, Greeks and Romans, what will really strike him will be how very like they are to each other and to our own. Some of the evidence for this I have put together in the appendix of another book called The Abolition of Man; but for our present purpose I need only ask the reader to think what a totally different morality would mean. Think of a country where people were admired for running away in battle, or where a man felt proud of double-crossing all the people who had been kindest to him. You might just as well try to imagine a country where two and two made five. Men have differed as regards what people you ought to be unselfish to, whether it was only your own family, or your fellow countrymen, or everyone. But they have always agreed that you ought not to put yourself first. Selfishness has never been admired. Men have differed as to whether you should have one wife or four. But they have always agreed that you must not simply have any woman you liked.

But the most remarkable thing is this. Whenever you find a man who says he does not believe in a real Right and Wrong, you will find the same man going back on this a moment later. He may break his promise to you, but if you try breaking one to him he will be complaining "It's not fair" before you can say Jack Robinson. A nation may say treaties do not matter, but then, next minute, they spoil their case by saying that the particular treaty they want to break was an unfair one. But if treaties do not matter, and if there is no such thing as Right and Wrong,  in other words, if there is no Law of Nature, what is the difference between a fair treaty and an unfair one? Have they not let the cat out of the bag and shown that, whatever they say, they really know the Law of Nature just like anyone else?

It seems, then, we are forced to believe in a real Right and Wrong. People may be sometimes mistaken about them, just as people sometimes get their sums wrong; but they are not a matter of mere taste and opinion any more than the multiplication table. Now if we are agreed about that, I go on to my next point, which is this. None of us are really keeping the Law of Nature. If there are any exceptions among you, I apologise to them. They had much better read some other work, for nothing I am going to say concerns them. And now, turning to the ordinary human beings who are left:

I hope you will not misunderstand what I am going to say. I am not preaching, and Heaven knows I do not pretend to be better than anyone else. I am only trying to call attention to a fact; the fact that this year, or this month, or, more likely, this very day, we have failed to practise ourselves the kind of behaviour we expect from other people. There may be all sorts of excuses for us. That time you were so unfair to the children was when you were very tired. That slightly shady business about the money, the one you have almost forgotten, came when you were very hard up. And what you promised to do for old So-and-so and have never done, well, you never would have promised if you had known how frightfully busy you were going to be. And as for your behaviour to your wife (or husband) or sister (or brother) if I knew how irritating they could be, I would not wonder at it, and who the dickens am I, anyway? I am just the same. That is to say, I do not succeed in keeping the Law of Nature very well, and the moment anyone tells me I am not keeping it, there starts up in my mind a string of excuses as long as your arm. The question at the moment is not whether they are good excuses. The point is that they are one more proof of how deeply, whether we like it or not, we believe in the Law of Nature. If we do not believe in decent behaviour, why should we be so anxious to make excuses for not having behaved decently? The truth is, we believe in decency so much, we feel the Rule or Law pressing on us so, that we cannot bear to face the fact that we are breaking it, and consequently we try to shift the responsibility. For you notice that it is only for our bad behaviour that we find all these explanations. It is only our bad temper that we put down to being tired or worried or hungry; we put our good temper down to ourselves.

These, then, are the two points I wanted to make. First, that human beings, all over the earth, have this curious idea that they ought to behave in a certain way, and cannot really get rid of it. Secondly, that they do not in fact behave in that way. They know the Law of Nature; they break it. These two facts are the foundation of all clear thinking about ourselves and the universe we live in.

To be continued in episode 2, based on the works of CS Lewis.

[hoardlikegoldenirises]

I’ve edited my timeline a bit (a lot...) and the old version of this drawing just wasn’t really useful for me anymore because of certain changes etc. so i finally expanded it a LOT so i have a better idea of what flash’s hair should look like.

(while peter stays mostly the same XD he’s just not interested in experimenting with his hair i guess)

putting some individual bits (well, groups of 3-4) below the cut:

Flash in his late teens; his only form of hairstyling in high school was buzzcuts from his mom so i just wrote “high school” instead of an age lol... once he goes off to college he starts growing his hair out and by the time he loses his legs that’s about what it looks like (18ish), and then the one with the hello kitty shirt is about a year later, how he looks by the time he’s 19 and a half... then a few months later he buzzes it all off after some stuff happens that upsets him, that i won’t go into here but will be uploaded to the AO3 series as a fic later. short version is “he has a revelation about himself and gender that he’s really, really not ready to deal with and locks himself back in the closet” (not that he was really out of the closet but he was rolling around in 2006 wearing a hello kitty shirt and nail polish lol) so yeah he ends up depressed again, and drinking more (still not legally old enough to drink but he has his fake id and other ways of getting it, of course) and trying to be Outwardly Masculine like he was before :(

oh i’ll also note—since it’s not visible in these busts lol—flash has of course been using a wheelchair since he was 18 and a half, which is obviously because of the events in “these are not the clothes [...]” where doc ock crushes his legs... so aside from the teenage stuff, he’s in a rigid wheelchair throughout this entire au—i decided against him ever getting prosthetic legs because initially he is young enough that growth is still a partial factor, on top of prosthetic legs already being even more expensive than wheelchairs and already requiring multiple fittings in the early stages even for adults who are totally done growing, and then later they’re just like... poor... plus not being on his dad’s insurance after a certain age (esp. after being kicked out but i don’t think he was disowned)... even by the time he and peter get married and flash is on peter’s health insurance i doubt they’d be able to afford a pair of otk prosthetic legs on the salary of one full time teacher and one part time assistant gym teacher lol—that shit’s like tens of thousands PER leg... even with insurance i doubt they’d be able to throw together something like 20k-40k (or more) for prosthetic legs on top of being due to replace flash’s wheelchair... granted they do have rich friends (and my headcanon in 616 is that harry and/or liz are probably the ones who helped pay for flash’s mobility aids in the first place) but imo neither are the type to want to go asking for money, regardless of harry or liz’s willingness to give it to them... and being like, “hey can i have $40,000?” is a BIG ask lmao

ANYWAY Flash is still kind of in a rough place in his early 20s, but starts to get better and feel okay with the things that made him feel happy before, so his hair starts growing out again and he busts out the spidey choker but not the nail polish. am considering having andi be a character around this time (though obvs she’d be like... 10) but not sure about how i want to do that... or if i’ll ever write it XD def still having drinking problems as he gets actually legally old enough to drink but less depression = less drinking for him, to some extent... his beachy curls are just the cutest though

not pictured: flash converts to judaism in 2010 (along w/ his mother and sister)

(2011 necklace just a regular fine silver chain necklace peter got him for his birthday)

mid 20s flash is a lot happier and starts wearing nail polish again, as well as getting his associate’s degree and also starting the *other* AA (alcoholics anonymous) or a similar program happening kind of concurrently with some other stuff (Harry’s also been going through it which partially leads to flash realizing he wants to change some things in his life) and also just because he’s so busy with school and other stuff that it’s really just become a lot more impractical for him to drink as much, and with the support of aunt may and peter and his friends he’s getting a lot better about his drinking and also a lot more comfortable with himself and his sexuality and gender presentation now that he’s had time to think about it more and not be so afraid. turns out 7 years away from your abusive father helps a lot... also harrison specifically has had kind of poor health and while idk if flash is even in contact with him anymore, if he is then, that might contribute to flash being like, fuck i don’t want to be like that...

anyway he gets job as an assistant gym teacher at midtown around the same time peter gets a job there (though peter’s been teaching already for a few years while getting his masters, but he was teaching at a school near chelsea instead of in queens)... Flash puts his hair up at work but at home it’s like, :> girly time.

and peter proposes when they’re 26, cause he’s been thinking about how that stuff has been legal in nyc for a couple years (since 2011) and just. he’s peter. he wants to get married. he’s a wife guy. i doubt flash says yes IMMEDIATELY because he has some hang-ups related to his home life growing up and peter and him haven’t always had the smoothest relationship, so understandably he isn’t ready to say yes immediately .... but like... they’ve been exclusive for a few years on top of some off-and-on stuff in their early 20s, and peter has seen him in some of his worst, most rock-bottom moments in life as well as helping him realize who he is inside, and still loves him, so he says yes.

also around this time, along with the convo about if marriage is the right fit, they have a convo about flash’s ... “identity issues” and talk about that and make good strides there. peter helps flash embrace that aspect of himself, especially now that peter’s mature enough to be capable of supporting flash without being pushy or aggressive or expecting him to just magically be grateful LOL—my, how they grow up XD so this is when they first start experimenting with feminine terms of endearment (at least on purpose) and stuff like... well, they’re engaged so i guess it’s just fiance LOL so not girlfriend. “wife-to-be.” and other more uh. nsfw things 😂

(the blue pendant necklace is a wedding gift from felicia)

they get married, still 26 because their wedding is in the spring and flash’s birthday isn’t until june and peter’s is in october, but like, ALMOST 27, the long hair is definitely what flash has at 27 following the wedding, and then the even longer hair is around the time the man-spider fic is taking place and has grown out a lot.

i’m still using he/him pronouns for flash in the man-spider fic as of my most recent edits, but i actually am not 100% sure what the deal is with that. i think there are lot of feminine terms of endearment in the privacy of their home, and i’ve had felicia call flash a pretty girl, and even tossed in a “wife” in a recent edit of ch 1, but flash isn’t really publicly out... “boy mode at work” as the doodle says lol. there’s always a chance i go back and edit pronouns. we’ll see how that shakes out. i think when flash is somewhere around mid-40s that might shift over to like, more feminine everything... a more comprehensive social transition i guess

then the late 40s one is mostly an estimate of like, this might be what flash looks like in 20 years... but idk for sure. wife city. a couple of white hairs but she’s not going gray as much as peter is lol

also—re the wedding stuff: originally there was no yarmulke for flash’s wedding outfit but i recently committed to flash asking his mother about their heritage (in “last week [...]”) with the idea that maybe his mom’s side is jewish or used to be jewish (but that there’s been a lot of intermarriage) and now have decided flash converts in 2010, so not an interfaith ceremony, just a jewish one.

here are their wedding rings. peter proposed without a ring but after they talked through if marriage was the right step for them and flash agreed to it, flash also eventually asked if he could get an engagement ring... because gender. so they buy a really small, simple one that doesn’t attract too much attention but still has a little tiny diamond... peter offers to wear one too but it’s not very practical for his line of work (spidey lol) so they end up just getting the one for flash. and then their wedding bands match but flash’s is skinnier just cause he doesn’t want to draw too much attention to the set. like it’s a small, happy thing for him, but that doesn’t mean he wants randos staring at his rings (and also they’re not exactly wealthy on a single full time teacher’s salary + a part time assistant gym teacher’s salary to support them and pitch in for aunt may...)

i can see peter getting an anniversary ring for flash eventually too... maybe 10 year...

also as a sidenote, i just wanted to say i def agree that peter doesn’t need to be married to be an adult or be mature, and that it’s weird when people boil it down to “peter has to be married to be an adult.”  the problem with comics right now isn’t that he isn’t married, but rather the circumstances for why it was decided that they had to end that relationship, and the way he is watered down into a nothing character with no personality and no flaws who isn’t allowed to swear or drink in the name of Mascot-ification while his dark hair and features are made lighter and more generic (arguably more aryan) (latter also a problem with flash and why i only draw flash with curly or wavy red or strawberry hair now instead of the straight yellow blonde he’s been given over the past 20 years)

ANYWAY

what i’m saying is that while marriage shouldn’t be the only way for a romance to continue, etc. and emulating traditional gender roles and marriage roles is not the only way to be in love etc. i do think peter is a wife guy (and how many times has his first solution to literally any problem with a woman has been “oh no i have to propose”?) so i think in this case it’s warranted, and peter being like, well, gay marriage is legal... and we both have jobs at the same school now... and we’re probably gonna move soon... maybe we should get married.... makes sense to me 😂 especially considering things like healthcare and the fact that flash is no longer young enough to stay on his dad’s insurance... and peter is very much a protective (overprotective) person who wants to take care of the people he cares about... makes sense that he’d be like, i love you, i want to be with you for as long as possible, let me take care of you better

but also: me smushing fictional characters together like barbies: teehee wedding

me giving flash longer and longer hair and more feminine presentation could also be talked about as like, trans people don’t need to emulate traditional gender roles—but i like when flash has long hair and i think it looks pretty and cute. but also frankly part of the reason i gave flash long hair is less to do with gender presentation and more to do with the fact that i grew up in a family where 4/5 of my uncles grew their hair out long as adults specifically because they’d all had buzzcuts their whole childhood and adolescence so growing their hair out was a way for them to assert their personhood lol

and i think that applies to flash here too, in addition to the genders and long hair as a form of feminine androgyny

as for peter:

i drew a lot less for him XD his hair is mostly the same 2-3 styles cause he doesn’t care that much about fashion whereas flash has the whole Queerness and Gender thing going on. (otherwise i wouldn’t have given him like 10 hairstyles LOL)

late teens and early 20s, peter starts to loosen up a little bit with his hair as he gets older and more adult... he also loosens up his clothing for all of five seconds because with the symbiote when he’s 17-18 (mostly 18) he doesn’t need to hide a suit under his clothes, it just exists, so 18 is his “slutty button-downs” era XD  but then a few months before he turns 19 he loses the symbiote so it’s back to buttoned-up collars and turtlenecks and stuff... but sexy instead of nerdy. also he shaves his awful teenage boy barely-a-mustache.

that era of looser hair and more tightly done casual clothes is also around when flash goes back to trying to be masc and he and peter are separated (both in terms of peter living away from aunt may’s house and also in terms of not dating) for a little while.

but, early 20s is also when peter and flash get back together after a couple years and enter a steady relationship—when they’re around 21, 22 years old? and that happens kind of concurrently with flash figuring himself out with less fear, and peter helps with that a little bit. so as peter starts getting shaggier and less uptight, flash also starts to relax and grow his hair out. so they get shaggy hair together 😌 (though flash’s is def longer, peter just needs to go get his hair cut more often XD)

mid-20s, you can see Pete has gotten shaggy as he loosens up! but then some shit happens over a span of ~3 months that’s not great that i won’t get into here (see this post ) and he ends up hospitalized etc... after that, he gets his hair cut once he’s doing better, and keeps it pretty short and tidy from here on out as a way to, i guess... have some control over his life. it makes him feel better to be clean-shaven, neatly coiffed, etc. so from his mid-20s onward he’s permanently said goodbye to the baby mullets.

and then like i said he doesn’t go through as many hairstyles so i didn’t bother drawing out 10 different variations of his mid-20s haircuts... cause they’re all roughly the same but with varying levels of bang length depending on when the last time he got a haircut was XD

so skipping to 26/27 for the wedding stuff, and then 28 for man-spider... he’s matured now.... (damn wish i was that put-together at 28, my life’s a mess😂) so in man-spider they’ve been married for a little over a year (rough strain on the second year of marriage 😅) and then after it, he looks mostly the same but is a little bit fuzzier (even more?!) and has slightly pointier teeth.

and then in his 40s aka DILF with bad facial hair era, his hair will start going PRETTY gray pretty quickly... with that white streak... his hair is gonna be more silvery than flash’s as they age, partly cause of the stress of being spider-man and partly cause silver fox suits him lol

(not that flash hasn’t had stressful stuff happening too but it’s a little different)

and yes i gave him stupid facial hair, as is his right. any middle aged peter needs some kind of dorky goatee or mustache, that’s just the rules okay. i almost gave him a beard but i didn’t like the way it looked XD (also a beard under the mask seems unpleasant)

he dies at 49.

i drew this anyway:

I mostly just wanted to doodle that cause I thought it was cute but like... Peter gets gunned down before he even hits his 50th birthday. like literally a few weeks before he turns 50. It’s tragic but not surprising in the end and probably something they were a little prepared for considering everything that happens in their life together. at least flash will be a hot milf widow. (except she dies of a broken heart on his birthday instead) (aka a heart attack + a fall in the middle of the night)

i’ve just been thinking about that scene in asm500 where future peter gets taken out by a literal swarm of cops and a sniper... though that universe obviously has its own stuff going on and implies peter kinda goes bad, and i’m not really looking to do that to him or flash (as much as i like a Killer Spidey, i don’t think it’s the right fit here) we’ll see... i just know i want to re-emphasize that peter will treat flash with love, gentleness, and tenderness up until his last breath... wifeguy til the end. i think maybe fisk is involved or something...

anyway misc doodles from the past two years:

tfw you turn from a circle to a dorky teenager into being chiseled

i’ll also note that peter has a lot of issues ... like a lot... and he was already a temperamental teen but he has some serious anger and other issues as a teenager due to sexual trauma as a 12 year old :( poor kid. you can see mentions of that in the stuff i have posted; peter’s mostly coping as an adult but sometimes it creeps back out... :/ contributed to his antisocial behavior in high school for sure. also he hit puberty so hard XD his voice dropped like three octaves between age 12 and age 18 lmfao

added flash onto this older drawing so i could have a comparison of the way they grew... they both had major growth spurts but flash’s happened when he was around 13 and peter’s didn’t hit until 16-ish (well no he had a smaller growth spurt around 12-13)... a couple of angry children XD... also edited this to make ben shorter cause i realized i made him like. very tall on accident. but closer to 5′11″ here instead of like 6′2″ XD

and peter’s spidey suits over the years... first costume is dorkier and also a little more silver age styled, then black suit as an 18 year old and then he makes a new suit since he’s bigger after losing the black suit, and needs something better and more durable... has also filled out a LOT by 19/20 lol now he’s got that booty... and i think his suit probably tends to be some variation on that suit throughout his adulthood...

i’ll note that originally i planned for the black suit to be a little earlier but some stuff changed, so peter probably shouldn’t be QUITE that gangly and thin in the black suit. but otherwise it’s mostly right.

i also have this variant (with bonus six arms style) which i like a lot too though for all of these i don’t actually love the spider logo’s look ... this was a scrapped idea for a different AU so just ignore the six arms and spider face stuff XD not relevant here, just looking at the suit style

it’s really just the default spider-suit i draw tbh XD (this pic and the next obvs from that 8 page comic i did, not from this au)

i like this logo style better.

also bonus: a general idea of what the rest of the gang looks like..

[rhaaclaws]

List five things that make you happy, then put this in the inbox of the last ten people who reblogged something from you, get to know your mutuals and your followers <3

Thank you for this :3 I'm not sure about passing it on since chains sometimes make me want to implode but !

1. My Atlas :3 sooo so excited to visit them in this coming year since I am Not visiting during winter I think I'd actually die from hypothermia. A few days ago I sent him some banana bread and it got kinda soggy from the condensation but ended up really good so woooo

2. Post-Punk Revival aka me and Atlas' ocs. I'm easing myself into drawing again but ohhhhh they're the loveliest creatures that I need to talk more about + finish their toyhouse pages. I have a few art ideas though so that's fun

3. Been going back to listening to this channel called Of Herbs And Altars from Dorian B and sigh. I love listening to all of his goth stories esp since I've recently introduced my roommate to their work so we've been listening to the nostalgia project whenever she's free/not tired from work. Also also finally got to order Dorian's book so whenever it gets here I'm gonna be binge reading it lol

4. Songwriting and such. I wasn't able to bring my bass when I moved so I unfortunately haven't been able to work on basslines and such so I've been focusing on actual lyrics. It's slow esp since I've never made a song before but it's been making me happy

5. Fashion ☝️☝️ I haven't really been keeping up with the fashion weeks but I have seen some real cool runways that I need to check out such as the Jean Paul Gaultier and Sandy Liang shows (and of course. Look at 90s Mugler runways again I miss them so bad). But I've been messing around with using lingerie as outerwear (aka just layering shit underneath slip dresses so my tits aren't completely out) and I can't wait until I can really use some outfits in public :3

Ummm I think that's really it for now that's what comes to mind but I'm always down for a chat (just as a warning. I am a horrific texter and you can ask anyone I'm friends with on that)

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

They’ve put up all the Taskmaster season 16 interviews already, which I like. In recent seasons they’ve been putting them out earlier and earlier into the season, and I always thought they should really just put all of them up before the season starts, as those are meant to be a way to get a feel for the contestants ahead of actually seeing them. The way they’ve split it in earlier seasons has a couple airing before the season starts and then the others airing a few episodes in, so some give you that feel for ones we don’t know about yet and then some are just extra details about people we’ve already seen on the show, and it’s a bit confusing. I much prefer being able to watch them all beforehand.

I watched them all tonight, and quite enjoyed that. Liked the format of this one – finally making them draw a picture of Alex after years of drawing Greg. And God, Alex is good at his job. Sometimes I forget a bit, or just take it for granted, how incredibly funny Alex Horne can be while just really causally, deadpan, fucking with a contestant via simple questions. To answer one of the questions he asked – no, I don’t think anyone else could do that job as well as he does (though Paul Williams is also fucking good at it). I think a lot of other people could do Greg’s job, very few could do Alex’s.

The interviews were fun. I enjoyed how much of an impression Julian Clary made, as I haven’t seen him do much else so that was a nice way to get to know him a bit. Imposing and confident. The only one to not just do everything Alex asked him. Clearly it’s a character, but there may have also been an underlying bit of “I have had a very long and very successful career in showbusiness, I don’t need to be desperate to do well on a panel show.”

Lucy Beaumont’s reminded me of how much I enjoy watching Lucy Beaumont do anything. I’ve seen her do quite a few things by now, and I still don’t have much of a handle on how much of her ditzy persona is real, but I am looking forward to seeing if I can figure it out via Taskmaster. Not even try to figure out “her true hidden self” or whatever – I’d just like to know how much of it we’re supposed to assume is a character. Though the fact that I can’t really tell is definitely part of her charm. Nearly everything about her is part of her charm. She’s got a lot of charm. So much charm.

I liked Sue Perkins’ mix of Julian Cleary’s “I’m too successful to need to be desperate to impress on a panel show” attitude (the exact opposite of Lucy Beaumont, who came off as being full of “desperate to impress on a panel show” attitude, which is what I’d expected from her), and Lucy Beaumont’s struggling and scrambling. She came off as pretty similar to the Sue Perkins I know from other panel shows, which is exactly what I hope she’ll be on Taskmaster. The duality of humanity. The confidence and the scrambling. The cool exterior and the panic. It’s going to be fun.

Susan Wokoma was the one I knew the least well, even including Cleary, so seeing her was fun. It was funny to watch her after someone like Julian Cleary, who was deadpanning right alongside Alex. While Susan was the opposite, breaking into giggles at the absurdity of everything he said, reminding me that way of Desiree Burch or even Katherine Parkinson. Constantly surprised by the revelation of what show she’s on (which might be explained by her answer of “my agents wanted me to” when asked why she did the show). Her laugh is fun to listen to, as is her defensiveness every time Alex changes the rules. I look forward to listening to both those things for ten episodes.

Sam Campbell had me worried for a bit, with my bold claims that I think he will be better at the tasks (not even at the comedy, just at scoring points in the tasks) than anyone else on this season. It doesn’t bode incredibly well toward me being proven right that he couldn’t remember how pronouns worked and tripped over his words on every sentence when asked to make a pretty simple language change. That skill is integral to a lot of tasks. Though my hopes were restored when his picture was revealed at the end, and it was by far the best. That’s a skill I didn’t even know he had when I was listing the skills he’s displayed through his stand-up that I think will make him good at tasks. Turns out Sammy C can draw, add that to the list of reasons for my prediction! (Actually I’ve just realized I did already know that, he drew that picture that James Acaster brought in ages ago.) Anyway, he was huge fun, that was the sort of energy level I've been hoping he'll bring.

I had a friend on Tumblr apologize to me the other day for whether they talk too much about finding a comedian attractive, as though I am too respectable a person for such tawdry things and shouldn’t have to hear them. Which is a ridiculous thing to apologize for, given that I’m well aware that Tumblr.com is very much the talking about famous people you want to fuck website. I mean, I might personally use it for other things, but I’m not here to disrespect its main function. So having said that, I’ve had a crush on Sue Perkins since I first got into Radio 4’s The News Quiz when I was nineteen. I didn’t even know what she looked like until I’d been hearing her voice for years, but just hearing her on the radio was enough to do that (though… when I eventually Googled a picture of her, that certainly didn’t hurt). On the subject of voices, seeing Lucy Beaumont’s video has reminded me that that particular accent is… certainly an impressive accent. That’s a good accent. What's the least creepy way I can say that's a good accent? Because I'd like to do that. And look, I sort of think that everyone, regardless of their gender or usual sexual orientation, who sees Sam Campbell has at least a bit of a crush on him.

So there you go, I thought I’d end my post with something to let people know that no one has to apologize to me for calling comedians hot on Tumblr.com; I can do it too, even if I usually make at least some effort to say these sorts of things slightly less often than I think them. But I’m glad everyone is having a good time.

New season tomorrow! New season tomorrow! Very excited for the new season tomorrow (even though I’m going to see Grace Petrie tomorrow, which I’m incredibly fucking excited about, so I won’t get to watch the episode until Friday after work). Happy early Taskmaster Day to all who celebrate!

[underratedbananawerewolf]

Fictober Day 24

Prompt 24: "Is it over? Is it really over?"

Fandom: Honkai Star Rail

Rating: G

Warnings: None

Jing Yuan sighed as he stared at the heavyset door engraved with numerous symbols designed to contain the power of the occupant. Honestly he thought the Vidyadhara elders were caging something entirely unnecessary. There was, of course, very little he could do about it as close as he was to the prisoner.

Or who the prisoner used to be.

Drawing in a deep breath, the general unlocked the cell, passing through to the bare cell beyond. Hardly a comforting home, isolated from everyone and hardly lit. The little light provided was a lamp that only illuminated the immediate area around it but it was all he could manage. At least it gave off enough to read by and the occupant was a voracious reader. As if he had much else to do.

One visible eye settled on the young man on the floor, shackles clasped around wrists and ankles. "Can you stand?"

"Why." The gleaming eyes showed nothing as to what he was feeling. Given the long time isolation with no other visitors but himself when he could take the time, Jing Yuan had to wonder if the Vidyadhara knew how to express himself at all.

"Because I'm taking you out." Jing Yuan explained patiently. "You're no longer required to remain chained here." He had to fight long years for that and even then he wondered if the punishment that replaced the imprisonment was even more cruel.

Dan Heng blinked in surprise, the slightest shift in his expression far more than any of his jailors had ever seen in him. "Out?"

"Yes." Jing Yuan offered a hand to him, willing to help if he needed it. After a moment of hesitation a shaky hand was placed in his allowing him to pull Dan Heng to his feet. He steadied the younger man as one of the escorting Cloud Knights entered to remove the bindings.

Jing Yuan noted the wariness in the Vidyadhara's gaze. No surprise considering how he had been treated since his rebirth but these two had served their general well when it came to dealing with things best not publicly known. This wasn't the first time they had accompanied him to this cell for all that it was the first time Dan Heng had seen them. "Your time in the Shackling Prison is finished."

Those vibrant eyes flickered back to his face, mirror bright and just as readable. "Is my punishment over? Really."

Slowly Jing Yuan led Dan Heng out of the cell with the two other knights flanking. His hands clasped behind his back as he led the way. It wasn't particularly fair to keep punishing one who had no memory of the sin, but the laws of the Xianzhou were just as enduring as the stars. "Yes and no." He finally answered. "You won't be kept in the Shackling Prison but you won't be staying on the Luofu either. Your permanent exile starts now."

He gave another sigh, almost unheard. He really was far too old for this level of emotion. "It is the best I could do for you, I am afraid."

"...I see."

The walk through the streets was a nervous one. There was no hiding the former high elder of the Vidyadhara Luofu. He was too much of a presence here so Jing Yuan didn't try. All he did was make the show of escorting a prisoner to Cloudford. There he could take an outsider ship to hopefully be able to make his own choices on how to live his life.

And when Dan Heng left he never looked back. The farewell, or lack of one, hurt more than Jing Yuan thought it would. The very last of his friends, the High Cloud Quintet, was now beyond his reach. He was happy for Dan Heng's freedom but that didn't mean that it also was painless.

---

A news report flashed across Jing Yuan's phone screen, prompting the dozing general to wake up enough to read it. These were updates of a more personal nature, ones that he would likely be in severe trouble for if any of the other Arbiter-Generals or the Ten-Lord Commission found out.

He blinked at the message. Years had gone by since he had received word of Dan Heng but those were little more than a blink for a man his age. His network of information had finally located the Vidyadhara.

Rising to his feet he sauntered lazily into his garden. There, no one could sneak up on him and overhear anything he was about to say.

"Would this be Miss Himeko of the Astral Express?"

The redheaded woman blinked in surprise at her caller but never lost her poise. "It is. I'm afraid you have the advantage over me."

"I am Jing Yuan, General of the Xianzhou Luofu."

"I'm honored, General. What can I help you with?"

"I understand that you have recently gained a new passenger." He pushed on before she could get suspicious. "He and I were...old friends. Circumstances have it so that is no longer the case but I still care enough to try and keep an eye on him as much as I am able to."

"So why contact me, General? Surely you would prefer to talk with Dan Heng instead..." Himeko trailed off as he shook his head.

"I fear talking to me would only cause more distress for him." And for me if I'm honest with myself. "I call only to ask that you watch out for him for as long as he is on the Astral Express."

Something of understanding crossed Himeko's pretty face. Her reputation was well earned as Jing Yuan counted on. "As long as he is among us, he'll be taken care of. I promise that to you, General."

His usual smile curled his lips as he inclined his head in grateful acknowledgement. "You have my eternal thanks, Miss Himeko. Take care."

[wine4thewin]

Oh dear lord 🥺

Finally I was able to find some strength to come here 😫 first I would like to say thank you very much for everything you have done for the sukuita community. Seriously you are one of the best writers I have ever read stories from I can even say that you The best of them all 🥹❤️

You wrote the most beautiful stories I have ever read in my life , Seriously you are the best ever. You never changed their character in your stories especially sukuna's and that is what made the stories so special (i can't imagine him with good personality he is an evil jerk so to see him acting softly in other stories made me feel wired sometimes 😞) So I will say it again. Thank you very much for the most beautiful stories 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Even though I am very sad now because I just finished the fourth chapter of no eviction notice and I feel like screaming because I knew in advance that the ending would be very sad 😭 but I fell in love with it as is the case with the rest of your stories, especially the Ten Years and a Day series because God it was the most beautiful story I have ever read and I still re-read it whenever I can 😫

Their feelings in this story made me want to... I go in it and hug Yuji and hit Sukuna and then hug him as well because well I felt sad for him in the end and how he still tries so hard to make Yuji happy but he will never be able to do that and this is what broke my heart, he can't make Yuji happy and even though I know this was his doing but I wished for a moment that he would make Yuji happy and that the story would have a happy ending but not all wishes come true so I 💔💔💔 So I decided to read no eviction notice and oh it broke my heart again And I have a strong feeling that chapter 5 is going to be a heartbreaker 😭😭😭

so I'll ask and you can ignore me you never have to answer these kind of questions at all so umm the question is when are you going to update it? Look you don't have to answer this question just ignore it if you want to I'm just very curious to know what will happen between them in the next chapter 😞

Well, I feel like I talked too much, so thank you very much. I hope you are well and I wish you the best 🤍🤍🤍😘

Goodness, thank you for the lovely compliment! It's always nice to hear that my stories are enjoyed by readers! ❤️

I'm glad the characters feel true to themselves in my fics. I'm someone who simply cannot read out-of-character works and I take it seriously when I spend a lot of time working with a character. As you mentioned, I never sugar coat villains; if they are immoral, they will remain immoral, but I will draw out the aspects that people hate to love them for. A great villain is one that people like to see on screen, after all.

LOL! I do update No Eviction Notice a bit slow, but that's mainly because I've been traveling for work quite a bit and it's the end of the quarter, which means everything gets nutty. As I am likely going to split the next chapter into two due to size, the next update should probably be coming sometime in the next week!

This also means that chapter 5 IS NOT going to be a heartbreaker...but by the end of chapter 6, oh yes. Yuuji's love and sorrow resides on the same coin.

Have a lovely week, dear!

[adirtnap]

game tier list twenty twenty two

2022 was the year of every video game being five or more video games at the same time. games were deckbuilding AND basebuilding AND roguelite AND fishing AND farmingsims. i don't think this worked out TOO well but i can see the appeal and i hope we can make a good one sometime!

game of the year 2022:

celeste!! the best and only video game. video, space, game. this is the peak of the genre, which is understandable because it is also the only game that exists.

it's just so FUN. like, first i play celeste as a vocation AND THEN when i'm exhausted i turn off celeste, sit for a sec, and think, "ah, time for some light fun. let's play a bit of celeste."

S tier (video games of all time)

mm rando ("Legend of Zelda Majora's Mask Randomizer, allsanity settings") this shit is so fun?? it's so fun. i will play this every year

inscryption ohhhhh man did someone have fun making this game and it SHOWS. some guy that i bet really likes and appreciates magic the gathering made a video game about: what if you played magic the gathering and it mattered SO MUCH. what if everything in your world was to enable you having a good and terrible time playing (original and realllly well-designed?) trading card games. and he was RIGHT and i had a good and terrible time

dwarf fortress!!! i first played dorf fort in 2012. i learned to play it alongside a guy i'd just met on study abroad because we were bored nerds. he is now my best friend. i have loved this game for TEN YEARS!! i once met derek yu (spelunky etcetera) at a very nice party and extremely embarrassingly trapped him in a conversation so i could talk about how good dwarf fortress is. he was very gracious and understandably uncomfortable. i like this game a LOT a lot. but, for every year i've loved dorf fort, i haven't really been able to recommend it to anyone. "hey, do you want to play a game that is so fucking hard and annoying to learn?" the answer is not usually "oh yeah for sure"

everything about the new UI-remake is good. they took the "impossible to learn" out of the sentence that i have so many times said, "this game is brilliant and enchanting and also impossible to learn." (the game is now fully "and also.") they did a good one.

A tier (delightful games)

elden ring my computer was too sad to keep playing this, and i am sad about that. it was GREAT, everything about it was as delightful as the darksoul and more. i can't wait to finish it (and probably give it s-tier) when computer good

fortnite they finally made a good battle royale and it is fortnite. good job i like my friends and this game is what i did with them a lot.

super mario sunshine perfect nintendo-y game. filled with little guys of all kinds. i will play this every year

the barnacle goose experiment horror abiogenesis autoclicker!!

sayonara wild hearts GOOOOD soundtrack good game

B tier (really fun games)

vampire survivors this is the most video game ever. i've heard it described as "the best video game of 2003." i've also heard the developer used to program gambling-machine animations. i would have played this on the school bus on the way to highschool. it rules

neon white really fun, zøooomy. i don't have the patience to find microoptimizations in levels to beat my friends, but DANG is playing each level for the first time fun. the writing was cringe AND free, it made me smile

C tier (games i liked)

citizen sleeper to paraphrase shannon: a dnd-videogame except for friends at the table enjoyers. i really liked that every choice felt limited but intentional, rather than disco's fuck-you kinda dice rolls. but, the sell was: "things… are happening. hmmmm what could they be?" which was not strong enough to keep me deeply invested. i'll keep going back and playing little by little

helltaker it's like eight minutes long and it's full of newgrounds drawings of demongirls. it's not a good game. i liked it a lot

D tier (games i did not like)

loop hero. backpack hero. slice and dice. dicey dungeons these are all the same game and they are all different variations of boring

cult of the lamb ANOTHER five-games-in-one that added up to… one-half of a good game? the fighting is like worse hades, the farming sim is like worse dontstarve. the minigames are ok. it was fine

subnautica LOVE a shark! but the game was brought down by the "you have to find a tiny item in a huge ocean and if you do not you cannot progress or you will miss major parts of the story" and also "find that tiny item on a short clock with constant danger." i ended up using the wiki, and shortly after ended up reading the plot because that was more fun than playing the lategame

however, many good moments of "oh wow yikes that's a fuckoff big shark huh" which i DID enjoy

death's door not a bad time but not for me. i think i'd rather play tunic (i haven't played tunic)

F tier (i hate it)

deathloop THEY BIOSHOCK-POISONED THIS GAME SO BAD

the concept of a majora's-mask-plus-dishonored-problem-solving-shooter? quite good. this game? really sucks. this game is the sum of every boring-but-sells lesson internalized by marketing departments on the success of "the genius of environmental storytelling," but instead of genuinely funny bits (like left4dead2's graffiti!), they went for an utterly bland "THIS UTOPIA? DIDN'T WORK OUT HUH"

also the core mechanic just wasn't very fun, was it, it just didn't work. they made it a pretty good fps and also a ~nothing else~

the upside was the art direction which: was good enough to do environmental storytelling with! it makes me mad that some goooood art got wasted on this game

hon. mentions

madness in square garden, for having a good name watching someone else play outer wilds

[pinkeebwui]

15 questions for 15 tags ~

Tagged by @figthefruitfaeth, who is the only one to keep me in ask game content www (not that I can tag you without looking up my notifs rn…….)

1. Are you named after anyone?

One of my middle names is after my mom’s great-grandmother.

2. When was the last time you cried?

I don’t know specifically but probably early this month; the holidays were giving me a hard time and I was missing home a lot.

3. Do you have kids?

Who tf do you think I am?? the tumbkr population is aging but not that much!! And, in this economy??

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

My family runs on it, so yes.

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Now I’m being asked about it? Idk. Probably hair or maybe scent (especially perfume/cologne - I’m sensitive to scent and don’t like them).

6. What’s your eye color?

Depends on the light, usually like, pale blue.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings. Scary movies are too much for me, I find them unpleasant overall. And just because you have a happy ending doesn’t mean you don’t have tragedy and hardship before it, that’s what makes it worth finishing.

8. Any special talents?

I’m pretty good with animals and babies, apparently, but other than that idk. I can cross my eyes? Lol

9. Where were you born?

USA, the land of 20oz boba, real lemonade, and barbecue

10. What are you hobbies

I have a lot of them, but I haven’t been able to get to my creative ones much. I collect kpop stuff (Hinged), I draw sometimes, embroider, paint, etc. I read when I have time. I also like trying new desserts at the convenience store. And I’ve considered picking up calligraphy recently, I need to inquire about the classes though.

11. Do you have any pets

Not of my own; my family has like. A small zoo. Ten? Cats, dogs, and some budgies we ended up with because they were lost and unclaimed at the shelter and we have a little experience with birds. Oh, and am ancient, belligerent Pygmy goat.

12. Have you ever played/do you play any sports?

I swam competitively year-round when I was a kid for probably over ten years; not super talented or anything like my friends who’ve gone to trials, but because it was fun. I stopped mostly around late middle school, did a final two summer leagues, then quit for good. I also used to dance (11 years, 10 of them ballet) casually. And I had started a volleyball class right at the start of the pandemic then couldn’t finish it for obvious reasons. I’d love to pick up archery again, or kyuudo specifically.

13. How tall are you

5’7” or thereabouts, I get a different number every time a nurse who’s shorter than me measures 🤷🏼

14. Favorite subject in school

English and history, I always really enjoyed history as a kid and through high school, and then grew into my love of English later on as I grew into an interest in writing as well as reading. Monkey read, monkey do. I also really enjoyed art, particularly in high school. I took all the offered classes and then did an independent study and was kind of the one art teacher’s… mot favorite, but something close to it.

15. Dream job

I don’t know, frankly. Doing whatever I want and getting paid to do it? Like, whatever strikes my mood as I feel like it, be it writing, editing, something like library clerking and potentially programming, something creative with a more physically tangible product, teaching. The flexibility to live and also hop around. I used to think it was writing, but I don’t think I’d like writing anymore if it were my main source of income.

I’m not tagging 15 people but @willthewhompingwillow @polliniaa @taebaelee @infernalfae @something-wild-cat if you feel so inclined