#just so you know i'm already very satisfied with my current set of partners and active plots and want to expand to new ppl too

[ofgentleresolve]

the way i think moving blogs might help with my enthusiasm on here but also not knowing if it would actually help....

[edwinspaynes]

My Case for Why Only Romantic Payneland Would Feel Truly Satisfying

Last night, I made a poll about whether people would be satisfied with QPR Payneland. I was curious where we stood on this as a fandom, and it's cool that it's about 50/50 between "either would be okay" and "I want them romantic."

Preface: I'm a monogamous biromantic asexual. If you were wondering. I have been in both a queerplatonic relationship (where I had a one-sided romantic crush on my QPP) and a few romantic relationships with both men and women.

Preface II: This post is not at all intended to be judgmental of any type of relationship. Poly people are awesome; aro/ace people in QPRs rock. This is specifically examining what is right for Charles and Edwin.

Preface III: I think that Edwin and Charles have definitely been in an unlabeled QPR since the beginning. They don't have the word for it, but it definitely is a QPR. They aren't romantically involved, but they make major decisions surrounding the other one and feel like they would wither up and die if they had to live in separate places.

This was great up until now, I think. A QPR is very valuable, very special, and very beautiful. It's meaningful and has served them wonderfully up until this point.

But it isn't sustainable for these specific characters.

The Need for Exclusivity in Both a QPR and a Romantic Relationship

I think that with no other external factors impacting my media needs, I would be okay with an exclusive QPR Payneland.

@tumblerislovetumblerislife astutely said:

I do not think that there is any world where they're suited for polyamory - this is honestly my biggest nope-out of fics and I deeply, deeply hate it for them.

This is because:

They already feel like a Pair Set to me that cannot be separated or infringed on by anyone else, and

In the end, it would never be fair to a romantic (or other platonic) partner because they would unplug anyone else's life support to charge the other's phone. No one else would ever be the priority over the other, and if they did, that would be OOC.

Even if they decided to date someone else now in the short-term, like Crystal or the Cat King, it's necessarily temporary. It's to Figure Things Out. There is an expiration date. And whether that's due to a romantic or a platonic bond between Edwin and Charles, their bond being stronger than any other is the reason for that expiration date.

So polyamory feels extremely disingenuous to their characters to me and is imo extremely OOC.

Authenticity to the Story

Edwin is currently, in the explicit canon, essentially Charles's QPP who has a one-sided crush on him. That is the explicit canon. It's not a fun place to be, no matter how much your QPP loves you - I have Been There.

Edwin is not unhappy or dissatisfied with the current situation, and he knows Charles loves him. But it still is kind of a sucky place to sit.

Luckily, the love does not actually feel one-sided! Charles reads as a character that has always been romantically in love with Edwin, probably long before Edwin fell romantically in love with Charles, but he neither has the self-awareness nor the words to describe it.

Charles touching his heart at the end of episode 8 makes it clear that he is beginning to have his Big Epiphany. I wish the show wasn't canceled because, uh, I want it.

This obvious two-sided romantic love makes a future QPR feel inauthentic to me. I think both characters would feel like it was the wrong shape for the relationship after they both had their epiphanies.

Other Media Considerations

I understand that a lot of people, it's important to have an explicitly-labeled QPR in a show. I do not disagree with this! I think we need WAY more QPRs in media that are explicitly labeled as such and treated as valid. I just don't think that it's right for Charles and Edwin.

I've explained why this is true from a character perspective; but let me also talk about how relationships like theirs are treated.

I'm personally sick of the "bond-beyond-bonds relationship that remains purely platonic." We saw it with Destiel onscreen because of the rancid queerbaiting in Supernatural; we saw it in Johnlock as a direct result of similar, albeit less magnified, queerbaiting.

This is, to me, the exact type of relationship that a QPR between Edwin and Charles would be.

It would be different. I know this. There is no world where DBDA is queerbaiting us; we have a gay MC and tons of queer side characters.

But to me, platonic Payneland being endgame would still feel like a betrayal because that endgame would feel like something adjacent to the endings of other shows that have queerbaited in the past. I feel like a huge appeal of DBDA is that it's beginning to right those wrongs and heal those wounds, and I firmly believe that's one intention of the show. It would feel unkind to the bulk of viewers for them not to end up together.

I think that the show ultimately was going to make them romantic endgame. It just didn't have the time to before getting the axe, which SUCKS.

So yeah. These are my personal thoughts. I hope I've articulated some of the things that a lot of you think.

[sasskarian]

Everyone who knows me knows that I'm terrible at asking for help, but I've quite literally just... run out of other options. If anyone can give a boost or a hand, it'd be real appreciated. I'm setting up a GFM to try and make ends meet, the text of which (and cat tax) is below the cut.

https://gofund.me/f30f4b07

Hey y'all. My nickname is Sher. For those of you who know me, you've probably heard the breakdown of whats going on. For those who haven't, here we go.

My partner and I have been talking about moving in together for a while. They've been my best friend for the past seven years and I was very excited to blend our houses. That... has become a little challenging right now, and I'm kind of at my wit's end.

You see, the plan originally was to save up and move in around the fall. And things were on track! Except... well. Up until May of this year, I had a pretty steady rocking career. It wasn't glamorous or famous but it was satisfying, it gave me access to a lot of skills, and it paid the bills and let me put a little aside here and there for that plan. On May 10th, I got an email that my job was over. Not because of anything I did, or because our business was bad, but because our corporate parent was pulling some shady stuff and we were bankrupt. My entire staff and I got laid off with no warning and no backup.

Since then, I've been working as much as I can at another job for less than half my previous pay. It's been a real slog and I just can't make ends meet anymore no matter how hard I try. There's light at the end of the tunnel! I do have another full time career lined up, one that will let me pay off some of my debt, and live modestly but decently. But there's a catch (because isn't there always?): The job doesn't start until September, the month I'm supposed to start a cross-country move (of which the legal bits are already in the process of and can't be reversed).

A move that I don't quite have the funds for, because with my career going up in flames, I've had to dip into my savings just to survive, again and again. And I *have* to be at my partner's house in order to get my new work gear, so putting off the move isn't an option.

So, I know times are hard for everyone. But if there's anything y'all can donate to help me and my family, my partner, and my fuzzy nuggets get to our new home safely, I'd appreciate it more than words can say.

While I know reaching my goal is unlikely, here are some of the things your donations may be used for:

* Gas to keep me at my current job

* Bills for my current place (with my current family/roommates) so no one gets evicted during this time of trouble

* Litter and food for the Nugget (cat taxes are below)

* Moving costs for our new place

* A literal lifeline to keep me from dying until we're settled

* And more!

Cat Tax of The Nugget:

[radioactive-earthshine]

I’ve been WAITING for this question okay so

Just to clarify I’m fairly new to comics and also not up to date on what’s happening with most of the characters rn so if this doesn’t fit anywhere in any current timeline or has already been done uhhhh sorry I don’t give a fuck

Anyway I’d give Starfire a solo series.

The first major arc would be kind of a space road trip type thing and for this arc I’d partner Kory up with Donna Troy and it would be so fruity. Like so so fruity. Those women kiss. I’m not sure what exactly I’d have Kory doing in space or why Donna joins her but the arc should end in a way that consolidates the best parts of her lore and scraps everything else (this is how I’m retconning Red Hood and the Outlaws). So some kind of soul searching magic quest idk.

At the end of her space quest, Kory gets established with a job and apartment in a new city and her villains are all super high tech, sci-fi. The artist needs to have some fuckin whimsy in designing characters and backgrounds, none of that dark grey everything is gritty shit. Bright colors all around. Obviously there would probably be at least one arc with the Titans but I’d really want her to work with characters she hasn’t previously interacted with or to bring back characters she hasn’t worked with recently like Animal Man. Maybe for one arc she teams up with the (RENEE MONTOYA) Question to blend Kory’s whole alien thing with a street level noir story (making Dick the detective for this would be so lame and im not about that. Im giving Kory more female friendships thanks). I don’t know if she’s ever worked with Kon but if she hasn’t THIS IS THE TIME. It would be soon after she gets back from space and would kick off a storyline for him to change in some important way like idk maybe growing out of the Superboy mantle and actually being an adult.

Maybe none of that makes sense and if this is stupid feel free to tell me so. So yeah that’s my idea. Korydonna space road trip, set up a new status quo for the remainder of the series and have her work with new characters to fight super powered sci-fi villains in mundane settings, emphasis on Kory working with other women. If I have fundamentally misunderstood this character then just ignore all of this. But anyway the thing about this that I think would piss off DC is that Kory has no male love interests in this series, at all, period. She either kisses Donna or no one at all.

Unrelated to that I would also fix the whole Batgirl thing and have Babs be Oracle again, retcon Cass’s villain arc out of existence, and put her back as Batgirl for a solo series so we can have her pass the mantle to Steph at the end in a way that’s satisfying and does not include the character assassination. I don’t know how I would accomplish this in-universe without fucking up the timeline but I’d find a way.

I'm interested and am listening to you very closely. I'm not the most well versed person in Kory or Donna lore (I've read thousands of comics but not a lot with them meaningfully) so I can't say if this is compliant with anything, and even if it was an impossibility, this is about self indulgent stories YOU would write with no one at DC to tell you NO. I definitely feel strongly that DC needs more women with their own solos featuring other women and having relationships that are platonic so this 100% good in that regards and I feel a lot of people would be interested.

Kory and Kon interacted in TTv3 but I can't justifiably say it was the best of situations so having better interactions would be 100% a delight to see.

But yes, Kory deserves her own solo and we always need more queer content. And SPACE! We need more comics that take you away from Earth.

But here's an important question; WHAT CITY is she working out of??

Babs being Oracle again is a mantra even the most staunch of batfans cry daily and I feel most would welcome her back.

Tell me what you would do if you had full creative control to write for DC with NO push back from editors and who would you piss off the most with your unhinged creative wiles?

Also, I shouldn't have to say this but don't be a DICK to anyone whose self indulgent fantasies might make you mad. Keep scrolling, block, move on. Thanks.

[fountainpenguin]

4, 7, and 8

[Current Ask meme]

How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

In terms of unpublished works I don't really talk about, I have at least 27 named FOP stories [as in, I'm not counting anything that already has at least one chapter posted and not counting any 130 Prompts]. Not all of them are winners and some are currently being recycled into 130 Prompts. Some I'm looking forward to writing, but am reluctant to start when I have so many other unfinished projects that are public.

Case in point, I have a draft for a 10-chapter AJ-centric fic called Pulling Your Puzzles Apart. It's an AU where Timmy considered A.J. his best friend instead of Chester, so AJ ended up with Norm's lamp and Norm has to go to college with him while AJ scrambles to keep him under control.

I'd like to post this one, but I also want to wrap up Come With May and maybe Pink and Gray before I open a new story. I keep going back and forth, trying to decide if it's better to have lots of projects that I'm having fun with at my own pace or if it's just better to tackle them one at a time.

(More answers under the cut)

I know I had two unfinished Danny Phantom pieces (plus No Anesthetic which did have one chapter up). Lots of Mario world drafts that I'm never satisfied with. Two TUFF Puppy pieces I started but couldn't put a plot together for, at least two Lilo and Stitch stories and some Bunsen Is a Beast pieces I stopped for the same reason.

I keep meaning to go back to that, they were fun. I love "town that sits on a portal to Beast World" and "Official welcome committee boy who has to take charge of the new fuzzy transfer student despite being descended from a guy who used to hunt his kind," it's such a cruel vibe... It was fun, but I felt weird being super dark for such a goofy show.

I have a stack of WordGirl ideas I've been toying with over the years and I'm looking forward to sharing some of those <3 The one I'm posting on Friday is something I've wanted to write for over 10 years so it's very cathartic and I hope people like it as much as I do.

My favorite Lilo and Stitch story was a Jumba backstory with lots of experiments scuttling around his lab. I've perma-shelved it since it has a similar vibe to Origin of the Pixies and I don't have it in me to write something so similar (nor create all the unique experiments), but Slick (020) was always a favorite. Here's my favorite snippet from that story, and I think you can see a lot of Sanderson's personality in how I wrote him (2016 or 2017):

---

“That’s all you are! Big talk, big guts, but puny muscles and punier brains. I mean, you’re programmed to sell stuff. How bright can you be?”

020 plucked 322 up by the scruff and set one hand to his hip. “Aw shucks, that’s real cute and flattering, partner. Now, you’re new here, so I’m gonna cut you a special offer free of extra charge.”

“If it’s anything like the way you cut cheese, count me out of here. If you’re some major room-clearing experiment, you deserve a raise.”

“Name’s 020.” He tipped his hat, and then one of the claws on that hand came down to prod 322 in the bowtie marking. “And I’m Jumba’s number one.”

“Number one what? Back-scratching errand boy?” 322 tipped his voice into a high falsetto. “‘Jumba, I finished all your paperwork. You got mail’.”

I picked up spray bottle and splashed it across back of 020’s head. “Ah-ah! Whoever said you were alpha on block anyway? Please to be giving me 322 now.”

Seething through his teeth, 020 placed 322 in my large palm and crossed his arms.

---

Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

One of my favorite sections of prose is the way Foop speaks about Anti-Sanderson in "You'll Never Know." This story was written with Foop as an incredibly unreliable narrator who dodges questions, is unfaithful with his answers, and skirts around his emotions.

In this story, we hit the 77,777-year anniversary of Anti-Cosmo's mysterious disappearance and Anti-Fairy politics demand Anti-Wanda take a new ruling partner. Anti-Wanda proposes to the Head Anti-Pixie (Anti-Sanderson) and Foop (mentally 11) is dealing with a lot of complicated emotions. He feels abandoned by Anti-Cosmo, fiercely protective towards his mother, cowed into submission by the people who have always see him as reckless, and he struggles with a lot of guilt over the fact that he actually admires Anti-Sanderson.

Two weeks before the wedding, I ask Hap the same question I asked Mother, following it with, "Do you even know which kids are yours?"

He points down at my head with two fingers. "DNA test, sucker!"

"No you can't."

"Oh fudge, you're right. I didn't think this through. Eh, weh, meh." Shrug. "I'll draw straws. Now, where should I put the maps I brought? I also have questions about my wrapping paper collection, but I do not have answers."

"The High Count's office, I suppose."

Hap doesn't move, hands still templed before his chest. "Does anyone else have an opinion?"

The only other person in the room is Klangfar, so no. I lean back on my heels in the air. "Nothing's going to bite you. I store all my junk in there." Hap still twitches, so I shrug. "It hasn't been Father's office in a long time."

"It's still a 'Yikes' from me."

And… that's why I didn't hate my step-father. I could have stopped the wedding. Easily, with just a twist of my hand. But I didn't. Because Hap might have overthrown his own father to seize the Head Anti-Pixie title, but I'd seen him tone down his playful teasing during the points in Council meeting discussions he was most passionate about. When he first showed up at the Blue Castle with a backpack containing his favorite valuables and three anti-pixie kids behind him, I watched from the stairs as he looked around the entry hall, gripping those backpack straps and looking absolutely overwhelmed. It took a few weeks before he could remember how to fly after being deprived of clean magic for so long, and Hap didn't scream or cry every time he got upset. He would chuckle and, sheepish and bruised, ask the next person he saw for a lesson. Something about his laughter stopped my cheeks from burning with secondhand embarrassment. He felt no shame.

"I don't like this," Hiccup murmured.

Hap had skittish feet outside his own territory. I noticed early on that he followed my mother whenever he thought it wasn't weird. His whole presence was weird. He always stood crookedly with wings slightly open in a way that drew attention, but he didn't force himself into the centre of a room. He spoke when he wanted to and didn't when he didn't. For someone who wore bold red and yellow, he could certainly melt into the background when he wanted to. He walked the halls sometimes at night, hands clasped behind his back, and… not a single gram of anxiety shot through me if our paths crossed while I snuck midnight snacks upstairs.

"Take a scoop of vegetables with you," he said the first time he saw me, and I stopped dead.

"What?"

"Veggies," he said, walking right past me. "They're good for you. If you don't eat them tonight, get a lot tomorrow, yeah?"

"You're hardly the boss of me, Head Anti-Pixie."

"You got me there," he laughed. Never stopped. Never tried to push it. I saw the way he coloured pictures with his anti-pixies and listened in while Smoky played piano, offering advice and critiquing the bends of his claws. I saw how he spoke to my mother, keeping a respectful difference and trying not to overstep. I saw him stare some nights at the portraits of Anti-Cosmo on the walls, copying his posture for a few seconds before drawing a cloth from his pocket and wiping a bit of grime from the frame. He didn't try to take those pictures down. I saw him hesitate to seize my father's office, balancing on the heels of his feet. And that's why I don't stop the wedding.

"Can I have this?" I ask Hap three days after his coronation, pointing to a silver wand sheath lying on the High Count's desk. My father's own, if I'm not mistaken. Hap barely glances up from the weird golden bridle he pulled from the closet.

"Sure."

I buckle the sheath on. My ba-ba won't fit, but just wearing it makes me feel more like an adult. "Could I also get a little spending money for a camping trip with my friend Kelsia?"

"Mm, depends. Are you on a healthy diet?"

"Mostly."

"Then you sure can, pudding tin."

"Does pudding even come in tins?"

Hap points two fingers at me. "It does if we make some tonight!"

We do. Me and Smoky and Hap and the three anti-pixie children I keep not learning the names of since they rotate between the Castle and Isle every week. And it's fun. It's a lot of fun.

I fall in my coffin that evening without bothering to unclip the wand sheath, hands folded behind my head and feet kicked in the air. "Ah… Now this is the way a prince should be treated."

"Foop," Hiccup whines.

"What? You know I'm right. A father who respects Mother and gives Smoky and I anything we want is way better than a father who runs off with other lovers behind his family's back. Mother deserved better than him. We all did."

"This isn't fair to Daddy."

"What do you want me to do about that?"

"Are we ever going to tell Mum about the fight?"

"Why should we?"

"I don't know… I just don't like doing this."

I snort. "Nothing's ever good enough for you, Puck. I spent my formative years under so much distress that our mind split apart. All these years later, we're finally getting a normal childhood. For once, can you be happy for us?"

Of course it wouldn't last. Hap disappears five years later. Hiccup has the decency not to say I told you so.

It's not the most melodic prose voice, but I feel like it fits the vibe of "Foop being curious and not as judgmental as he expected to be." I really like the way I showed Anti-Sanderson's awkward adjustment to his new role as High Count (and Foop's temporary step-father). Anti-Sanderson is very unstable (as you'll see in the snippet after this one), and I love touching in on these moments where you see him out of his element, feeling self-conscious.

I love the parallels between how uncomfortable Anti-Sanderson is to be filling Anti-Cosmo's shoes and how Foop feels out of place and "never good enough" for his role as prince. I love how Foop sees beauty and strength where Anti-Sanderson sees his faults. I love this fragile, human side of Anti-Sanderson that shows how he's trying to do his best and find his way in the world.

---

Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

I wrote the 130 Prompt "Look At That!" in 2016, and it'll still be a bit before we get to the Cavatina arc of the 130 Prompts... This is a spoiler, but it's still a dear favorite of mine. The Cavatina arc has its dark moments but it's a lot of angsty fun. This scene is one of my favorite dialogue exchanges...

“What about your son?”

“What about my son?”

That wasn’t the answer Sanderson had been expecting. “They’re synced up, same as you and me? If my son dies in that fall, yours will go down with him? That’s Anti-Entities 101.”

Anti-Sanderson tapped his right temple as he pushed himself back up to his feet with the leg of the barstool. “There are nine hundred ninety-nine more on the way genetically identical to him. I’ll probably let one of them live. Get yourselves a long running start, team. Draw on that sugar rush. Give it all you’ve got.”

“Wait.”

That small voice belonged to Anti-Cavatina. As before, as soon as someone asked him to, Anti-Sanderson made the signal for his followers to stop what they were doing. Still leaning on his makeshift cane, Anti-Sanderson turned himself around and squatted.

“Come here to talk to Daddy, wrigglepie. Come, come- don’t be shy. Won’t you give your old man a hug?” In slow motion, the little anti-pixie did. His father ruffled his star-blond hair. “Oh, yes, that’s the way you do it. What’s the matter, kiddo?”

“You…” Anti-Cavatina, not removing his arms, shot a puzzled glance in his counterpart’s direction. “You said you wouldn’t hurt him if I got the watch.”

Anti-Sanderson sucked air through his teeth. He nodded two or three times. “Ooh, that’s right. Thaaat’s right. Rats- I knew I was forgetting something. I did promise you that, didn’t I? Well.” Flipping back into a smile, “Change of plans, peachcake. Can’t be helped.”

“But I got the watch!”

“I know you did. You’re my big bwave boy.” Briefly releasing his cane, Anti-Sanderson took his son’s cheeks in both hands and squashed them inward. “And I wuv you so much, yes I do, you’re just adowable, oh yes you are.” He kissed Anti-Cavatina on the forehead, then patted him between the wings and pointed up the street. “Go tell Uncle Anti-Wosencwantz all about it. Daddy’s busy wight now.”

I love Anti-Sanderson as an antagonist because he's absolutely feral. His morals are extremely fluid and you can't even trust him to take care of his own son... I love this scene because I feel like even without context, it still gives off a chilling and villainous vibe. I love how poisonous and dangerous Anti-Sanderson can be. He's horrible but I also find him hilarious... Just a horrid man.

Thanks for your interest!

[Current Ask meme]

[a-quiet-borderline-diary]

I haven't made an entry in a while. I have a second partner now, and we are in love. We started dating about 4 months ago but it feels like we have been together for a long time.

He is so affectionate and helpful. He gets along well with my husband (primary/nesting partner) quite well. We even play dnd in a group together and that is more fun than I thought it would be! It is my first campaign ever.

My bf is in college still, but he is set to graduate within a year or so. My husband and I are staying in this area for about 2 more years. I already have hopes and dreams about moving somewhere (possibly new), and bringing my partner with us. I wish my husband found another partner like that as well. He does have a current partner, but he told me that when he talked to her about the future it didn't sound like she wanted the same things as we do. They are still together and enjoying their time for now, but I wish she was on board with planning to live together someday.

I know for most couples 4 months or so isn't long enough to decide if you want to move to another state with someone though so maybe in time she will change her mind. If not, I'm sure there are plenty more fish in the sea (especially moving to a more urban area, we are currently in a rural area with few polyamorous or queer folks).

My husband and I have a dream that one day we will own a decent sized house that can accommodate 2 additional partners. We will live life all 4 of us together, helping eachother.

My husband and I already decided that only he and I will have shared bank accounts (we have always chosen to share finances completely since marriage), but it would be a more comfortable life with 2 more household incomes with no kids. (sorry to say, but he and I refuse to date anyone who has children).

I think we both just really yearn for a communal life, even if we wouldn't want to do anything like go off grid. We really like the idea of having our own chosen family.

As a bisexual, it isn't what I had in mind to end up with another male presenting partner, but I simply fell in love with him. I think a lot of what attracts me to my other partner is that even though he identifies as male, he is very feminine. He is smaller than me, and when I hold him it feels similar to holding a woman. I really like that tbh, he has a very androgynous appearance and way of carrying himself.

My husband identifies as nonbinary, more so than I do (although I consider myself probably gender fluid if I had to describe it.) He presents pretty masculinely, but he has feminine qualities in his personality and takes on some more "feminine" gender roles in the house (like cooking, which I do not do.)

My husband's current partner is really cool, I like her a lot. In my opinion, they have more space between them than I do with my bf but it doesn't seem to bother either of them. Maybe this is because they know it may not last beyond the 2 years we are living in this area. It would be so nice if she grew to consider moving with us when we leave, but even if she decides not to stay with my husband it is nice to spend time with her as a "polycule" now.

Since my husband's partner does not seem to cling to him as much as my bf does to me, it feels like I need to work on spending more time with him. Over the next couple of years I definitely need to work on my dynamics juggling my time with both of my partners. Sometimes I still think it would be nice to have a gf as well, but I honestly don't think I could easily juggle my time for a true relationship with another added person. Maybe when I feel I have the dynamics of the 2 I have now down pat, it would be possible... But I would be satisfied to just have a platonic relationship with my husband's partner. I just feel overall I'm lacking in close relationships with women and I would at least like a close female friend again.

I am friends with my husband's current gf, and I enjoy spending time with her but she has always operated as sort of a lone wolf even in her romantic relationship with him. That makes it hard to get close to her tbh, but I know she has reasons why she is the way she is. It's not anything personal.

All in all, I have just found myself daydreaming about the future a lot. I really have faith that my partner is serious about joining our life in a couple of years and it feels nice, but still we have quite a bit of waiting and time here before we enter the next step of our lives.

I have a positive outlook and I'm really happy to have 2 wonderful and loving partners. I can't wait to see what our futures have in store

[ava-achlys]

The Boyz NSFW Scenarios

Kim Sunwoo - Hands Off [Requested]

softdom!Sunwoo x gf!reader

Request: Sunwoo likes to play with his girlfriend's breasts

Warnings: mentions of bullying, body image, underage drinking, anxiety (very brief), titfucking

Long overdue request for @ace-seventeen-world , I hope you like it! Also first time writing anything about titfucking, I hope it turned out alright. 🙏🏽

Sunwoo loves you even when you don't feel like loving yourself.

Being well-endowed since puberty hit meant you received a lot of unwanted attention from all genders. Some would pass judgement, calling you desperate for attention; and some would ogle and make lewd comments. This led to you coming to school wearing oversized baggy clothes and even turtlenecks no matter the weather. The less your body was apparent for people to judge, the better, you thought. Except the comments never stopped. You were so sick of your body being the talk of the student population of your small-town high school that you couldn't wait to graduate; and move far away to start afresh in college, where you futilely hoped that people would be more mature about these things.

Moving away for college turned out to be the best decision you made. You made a whole bunch of new, more mature friends who taught you to embrace and appreciate your body. Inappropriate comments from strangers still came your way, but with your new, reliable support system, you learnt to shut them out, and your girlfriends would even try to fight them for you, which made you feel very touched and grateful. Apparently, this sincerity didn't stop with just your good friends. That was also how you met your current boyfriend. Your friends had convinced you to come with them to a party during your first semester, and you allowed them to doll you up, upon much pestering. You were dressed in a nice blouse and skirt, which turned some heads at the party, and though you felt rather self-conscious in the beginning, you loosened up after a few drinks and dances. From there, you didn't care if people paid good or bad attention to you; all you wanted was to have fun with your best friends.

One of your friends introduced you to a gaggle of other first- and second-years, who were very loud and goofy, except for one; who had previously been laughing boisterously along with them until he set his eyes on you. He abruptly stopped laughing when you made eye contact, and you could have sworn he developed a light flush. With pouty lips and dark eyes, and a mop of fluffy black hair, he smiled shyly at you, nodding in acknowledgement and softly introducing himself. His voice was deep and had an attractive drawl and a pleasant raspiness. His name was Sunwoo, and you ingrained it into your memory easily, smiling shyly back at him. You mostly kept to yourself as the rest of them chatted, nursing your drink when a flurry of words and a loud slap shook you. You whipped around to see one of the boys, with cotton-candy hair and sharp feline eyes rubbing his arm and muttering under his breath next to Sunwoo, who was staring at you while whispering something to the boy - Eric, was it?

"Apologize!" Sunwoo hissed, nudging him. You tried to back off but Eric nervously came forward and rubbed his neck sheepishly, stuttering an apology while avoiding your eyes. He didn't specify what he was apologizing for, but you already had an inkling. All your friends were now staring at you, confused as to what had transpired. Unable to handle the stifling awkwardness, you quickly murmured "It's fine, Eric," before speedwalking away to get some fresh air, unaware that a certain dark-haired boy was scurrying after you. You turned to the nearest balcony and hurriedly gulped some fresh air to calm down, all-too-familiar feelings of panic and shame drowning you. You fought back tears, ignoring some of the smokers occupying the same space, who were looking at you with a mixture of confusion and pity. You managed to calm your breathing, and blink back tears, when a figure slowly comes to stand next to you. He doesn't look at you out of courtesy, fixing his gaze straight ahead. "Are you alright?" he asks softly. You nod firmly, trying to seem completely calm. "Eric... sometimes says things without thinking, but I know that's not an excuse. I just want to apologize again, for making you uncomfortable." His voice is gentle and soothing, and you tilt your head to face him, since he was a bit taller.

"It's not your fault, but thanks Sunwoo. And don't worry, parties aren't really my thing, I just came cause my friends were begging me to join them," you chuckle softly, to which Sunwoo gives you a lopsided grin.

"I feel you on that. I'm here to look after my idiot friends."

You share a good laugh, and spend the rest of the evening getting to know each other, but conversation comes easy, like you've known each other for years.

You and Sunwoo's paths seem to cross often, apparently because his faculty was right next to yours, and soon your friend groups merge and become one massive group, and you've even forgiven Eric. Days turned into months, casual meetups turned into lunch and movie dates, and soon you and Sunwoo are constantly switching back and forth staying over at each other's apartments.

Ever since you two started dating and you've gotten used to wearing more comfortable clothes around him, you've noticed him staring at your chest every now and then, but at least he had the decency to look apologetic and embarrassed whenever you catch him. You started to tease him, and he would bashfully hide his face and whine cutely. To get back at you, he'd purposely keep his hands cold and hug you out of nowhere, just to hear you squeal, knowing you're ticklish. Sometimes he'd be even bolder, trailing his hands up your sides and cupping your breasts under your shirt, especially when you walk around the house with no bra on. He'd do it when you're cuddling on the couch watching a movie, or worse, when you're trying to study. You didn't mind it usually, since you appreciated the support from his hands since the weight of your breasts takes a toll on your back, and you weren't fond of wearing a bra 24/7. Except the little shit likes to tease, jiggling them around and squeezing them when he's being extra playful, even grazing your nipples with his fingertips; chuckling lowly in your ear when you gasp or squirm in pleasure.

One night in bed, you confront him jokingly. Your period was on its way soon, and your breasts were feeling extra tender and swollen, something you had complained about, so your dear boyfriend very happily obliged, massaging them gently to ease your discomfort. After a while he gets bored, and starts prodding them, round eyes watching intently as they bounce. You can't help but laugh at how adorably fascinated he looks, so you ask him why he's so enamored by your boobs.

"They're just.. fun to play with, yknow? Bouncy and squishy. Can't help myself okay, you're just so perfect," Sunwoo grumbles, blushing again since he got caught.

"Yeah? What if I lose weight and they get smaller? Will you still like me then?" you ask, feeling rather self-conscious, irrational worries that he only likes you for your assets filling your mind. You try to ignore them, knowing your relationship with Sunwoo was much more than superficial, but trauma and bad memories keep causing you to doubt yourself.

"Of course I would!" Sunwoo gasps, reaching up to hold your face urgently but with such a tender gaze in his eyes. "It's still you, and you'll always be perfect, and I love you no matter what."

Tears welled up in your eyes when he said those words. Few people had treated you with such genuine kindness and you were so grateful to have him as your partner. You squished his cheeks together and pressed a kiss to his lips, surprising him. "I love you too, Sunwoo," you whispered, a small smile on your teary face. A cheeky grin slowly replaces the shock on his face. "Shall I show you just how much I love you?" he drawls, crawling on top of you, making you lay down on the bed. Sunwoo positions you to nestle comfortably against the pillows, helping you take your shirt off afterwards.

Your cheeks start to heat up at Sunwoo's intense gaze raking over your body, and your arms habitually come up to shield your breasts, but he's quick to catch them, gently pulling them away. "Don't be shy. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met, inside and out," he murmurs, making you blush even harder. He kisses you deeply, before trailing his lips down, pressing light kisses down your neck and across your chest, gently nipping at the skin just above your right nipple. He resumes massaging your breasts, admiring the way your face scrunches up cutely in pleasure, his warm hands on your skin making you sigh happily. He leans down again, tracing a circle around your areola, making you shiver. He teases you a little more, flicking your hardened nub with his tongue before finally latching on and suckling on it, rubbing it periodically with his tongue. His hands are still massaging your breasts, twisting and tugging on your other nipple.

He pulls off with a satisfied 'pop' when you whine, pleased with how raw and puffy your nipple has become, glistening with an abundance of his spit. He dives back down to subject your other nipple to the same treatment, but this time, his free hand creeps down your tummy and between your thighs. You moan when he grazes your clit with his fingertips, and you can feel his plush lips smirk into your skin, obviously proud of himself. You willingly part your legs, and he dips his middle finger straight into your folds, your juices coating his finger instantly. He raises his head to look at you, eyebrows raised cheekily. "So wet already, babe? Always knew your nipples were so sensitive," he chuckles, slowly pumping his finger in and out of you. You shut your eyes, the stimulation of his mouth on your chest and his hand on your pussy clouding your mind. He inserts another finger and pumps you faster while he drags his teeth against your puffy nipple, making you shiver and moan even louder.

He starts leaving hickeys and bites all over your decolletage, looking forward to seeing those pretty marks bloom purple tomorrow morning. Finally, he eases up on his ministrations on your chest, and focused on fucking you hard and fast with his fingers, slamming three digits into your core, gleefully watching the way your breasts jiggle from the impact. He glances up at your face, finding your head tossed back, soft mewls and moans falling from raw, bitten lips. You're clutching the bedsheets in a death grip as Sunwoo starts sucking on your clit as he fingers you. He sucks hard, nudging it with his tongue every so often as he slows down his thrusts, opting to scissor you open and drag his fingertips along your walls, rubbing hard against your g-spot when he finds it, indicated by your shrill yelp. "B-babe, gonna c-cum," you gasp, still writhing in pleasure. "Go on, love, cum for me," he mumbles against your core, and soon you're clenching on his fingers, coating them with your cum, and he continues to fuck you through your climax.

Gasping for air, you wince as he pulls his fingers out, pussy clenching on nothing as you watch him idly put them in his mouth, sucking them clean. He smiles lazily at you, telling you how sweet you taste and even gives you a kiss, making you taste yourself. Your cheeks turn crimson again, and you decide you want to return the favor, having felt his hard cock pressing against your thigh when he leaned down to kiss you. You eye the tent in his jeans, and start unbuckling his belt. He looks at you in alarm, grasping your hands to stop you. "Baby, you don't have to do that, this is about you," he smiles gently. You pout at him. "But I wanna help you too! I have an idea that I always wanted to try with you…" Sunwoo takes a moment to consider, making sure you were genuinely comfortable doing so, and his eyes glimmer with anticipation when he nods in agreement. You beam wordlessly at him, helping him out of his jeans and boxers. You can't help but lick your lips at the sight of his erect cock.

Sunwoo's dick always made you feel good, whether it was fucking your pussy or your throat, but you always wondered what it would feel like sliding between your bountiful breasts. You pull him up to straddle your chest, and his eyes widen when he realizes what you want him to do. "Really?" he gasps, dick twitching with excitement when you readily nod. He chokes on a moan when you swipe your finger up his cock, gathering his dripping precum to slather it between your breasts. He slowly slides his dick into the valley between your breasts as your hands push them together, making it even tighter around him, and he groans lowly. Sunwoo thrusts shallowly, loving the way the smooth skin of your breasts feels around his aching cock. He begins to take over, his larger, warmer hands replacing yours, squishing your tits together as he rocks his hips faster, becoming addicted to the the feeling. It wasn't much physical stimulation for you, but you felt yourself getting hot again watching his face contort in pleasure, his tightening grip on your tender, sensitive breasts rather arousing. You can't look away, mesmerized by how good he looks with his lower lip caught between his teeth, grunting softly as he uses your tits to get himself off.

"You look so hot like this Sunwoo," you murmur, your hand resting on his thigh as he continues to piston his hips. He barks out a breathless laugh, "Have you looked at yourself properly? You're fucking gorgeous, babe, don't you ever forget that. Although, I'm down to remind you all the time." he winks. You smirk at him, and your hands come up to squeeze his muscular ass, the same way he likes to squeeze your boobs. He's got a nice butt, you had to admit, toned and sculpted from years of various sports, and it was your weakness the same way your breasts were his. He moans louder when he feels you groping his ass, hips stuttering as he approaches his climax. He throws his head back as he fucks erratically, squishing your tits even tighter together and you keen at the rough treatment. You coax him in a soft whisper to cum all over your tits, and soon he does, painting your chest white as his hips slow down, and he's gasping for air. A little bit of his cum has spurted onto your lips, but you willingly lick it up and smile up at him, your hands still soothingly rubbing his cheeks as he comes down from his high.

You grab some wet tissues from your bedside drawers and clean up your chest as best as you could, wiping away all the cum before Sunwoo flops next to you, resting his head on your chest the way he usually loves to. You lay there in comfortable silence for a while more, stroking his hair and you feel him smile into your skin, his finger absentmindedly tracing the hickeys he's left across your breasts. Maybe going to that party all those months ago was the best decision you ever made (second only to moving here for college), and maybe you and Sunwoo finally get out of bed to shower, and maybe you go for a second round in the bathroom, filling the steamy air with echoes of wet skin slapping and soft proclamations of 'I love you's.

[actualbird]

alpha/alpha couple marluke and omega/omega couple vynartem <3

n/s//f///w text in response also why is this answer 1.5k words oh my god

okay for this answer im going to skip over omega couple vynartem (i'll get back to them eventually) because alpha couple marluke FRITZED MY BRAIN WITH A VERY SPECIFIC SMUT SCENARIO AND I NEED TO TELL U ABOUT IT

yes, YES absolutely yes to alpha!luke and alpha!marius im frothing at the mouth. in my ideal omegaverse au setting, it's totally fucking impossible to for sure certainly clock what another person's a/b/o biology without them telling you outright or if u take a gander at their medical files. like somebody Could make assumptions, but it's considered a jerk move, assuming that biology and personality have some kind of intrinsic link. still, after that first tense meeting where luke comes into the nxx all angry tense, after marius gets to know luke a bit more, marius privately has luke pegged as a beta. yeah yeah, it's a jerk move, marius knows, but hes already made peace with the fact thats hes kind of a jerk sometimes, so he lets himself have his assumption.

anyway marius and luke fall in love and get together, it's awesome, and they eventually start sleeping with each other, and they both tell the other that theyre an alpha. not a problem for either of them, but marius is a bit worried and asks luke about their sex life.

up until this point, it's been marius who's been taking the lead, being the more dominating one, topping and all that jazz. it had started like this because luke was a virgin prior to this relationship and he didnt know how to Do Things, he was more comfortable with marius showing him the ropes and marius obviously Loved That A Lot. he loved it because hell yeah, fucking luke pearce, but also hell yeah because it satisfied the alpha brain in him, to claim his partner, to take care of his partner.

but theyre at a point in their relationship now that like, luke has already been Shown The Ropes, luke damn well knows how sex works, how marius works, and marius is worried that luke is doing his self sacrificial bullshit in regards to his own dick, putting marius' desires over his own. luke is an alpha, marius is sure that luke has an instinct deep in his mind to take the reins as well, is luke repressing that part of his desires to make marius happy? is marius...making luke do this?

so marius confronts luke about it in the most I'm So Totally Not Stressed, Dude, I'm Not Stressed At All way possible. like "hey, you know, im like, a switch through and through, i'd be down if you wanted to fuck me."

and luke is just like. blinking. confused. bc theyre currently in an IKEA shopping for a new coat rack and marius brings this up outta nowhere. "HUH?"

"I'M JUST SAYING, I'D LOVE TO TAKE YOUR DICK."

"MARIUS," luke covers marius' mouth as an elderly lady passes by. "CAN WE TALK ABOUT THIS WHEN NOT SURROUNDED BY SWEDISH FURNITURE AND OTHER PEOPLE???"

so they talk about it when not surrounded by swedish furniture and other people. and the conversation goes something like luke very much reassuring marius that he isnt forcing luke to repress anything. luke quite likes their sex life right now. luke admits that alpha brain is starting to get a liiiiittle bit antsy, it's Definitely giving luke the same desires marius has, in terms of power n control in bed, but also luke isnt...quite ready to indulge that side of him yet. hes...

"dont laugh, but im a bit scared," luke says. hes trying to play his words off as chill, but marius can see him fidgeting nervously with his fingers.

"scared?" marius presses.

"im---marius, you know what my background is. im not just any alpha. i might get rough."

and hooooo boy, does marius know what luke's background is. the government agency training is very obvious to marius whenever luke is naked, luke could easily lift marius over his shoulder, luke could easily overpower marius in every way. additionally, across the cases that the team has tackled together, marius has seen luke's mean side. he's seen how luke can be absolutely ruthless and thinking about that paired with luke's strength makes marius realize that luke, if he let himself, would easily be able to pin marius down, to make marius helpless to him and only him, to make marius take everything luke wants to give and

UH

HM.

MARIUS, NOW THAT HE'S THOUGHT ABOUT IT, REALLY REALLY WANTS THAT NOW.

which marius makes VERY CLEAR IMMEDIATELY but also he backs off when luke voices that hes still not completely comfortable indulging that part of himself. so they put a pin on it for a while, their sex life continues as normal.

until luke gets his rut triggered for some reason.

for those who dont know, a rut in omegaverse is basically like the classic omega heat but it's for alphas and instead of "i need my hole fucked NOW" it's "i need to fuck a hole NOW." lemme just skim over all the worldbuilding of heat/rut, it's a natural thing but also theres meds i guess to delay it or whatever but also strenuous activity or high stress emotions can trigger it nonetheless.

ANYWAY, BACK TO THE HORNY, luke hasnt had a rut in a long time, he was single for a long time and didnt wanna waste time dealing with it himself if he was just gonna be miserable the whole time, so he took suppressants, but something something high stress situation happens that pushes past those meds and luke's brain knows he isnt single anymore, that hes got somebody he trusts that can help him, somebody who had told luke that he wants this and---

"are you sure?" luke says, his words shaky, his voice breathy. marius came over to his place the moment luke called and explained the situation, and luke stands in front of him. he looks wrecked, marius thinks. his skin is flushed, his hands twitch as if he wants so desperately to touch marius, but he doesnt let himself.

"im sure," marius walks forward, looking luke in the eyes. in luke's gaze, theres an intense hunger that marius has never seen before and marius wants to be devoured. "take me, luke."

marius doesnt have to convince luke anymore than that because luke replies by grabbing marius by the collar of his shirt, pushing him against the wall violently, his lips pressed to marius' in a frenzied kiss that takes marius' breath away.

luke fucks marius that night SO MUCH. MARATHON SEX, FELLAS. INSANE AMOUNTS OF COME.

first time right up against the wall because luke is so on edge that he cant even wait for a horizontal surface. the prep is fast, just on the edge of being cruel, and marius is dizzy at how luke fucks him with his fingers to stretch him, at how luke litters marks all over marius' neck the entire time until marius whines for his cock and the sound luke makes at that...a dark growl, hungry and dangerous. marius cant think much about how hot that was because luke lines his cock up with marius' hole and fucks him mercilessly, fucks him until marius' legs go weak after marius comes, until marius cant brace himself against the wall anymore and luke has to hold him up as he thrusts into marius' heat hard.

second time they make it to the bed because after the first time, marius quite literally slides down the wall, his hole leaking luke's first load of come. luke's protective care instincts briefly trump his horny instincts and he carries marius to somewhere softer. this round is a bit more gentle, since the first one took the edge off. marius cries. marius totally cries. how could he not? luke fucks him that time with long, languid thrusts, as if hes trying to carve a space inside marius made just for him. marius comes again and, deliriously, he tells luke to keep going, please dont stop, please. and luke hooks marius legs over his shoulders, practically bends marius in half, and buries his cock deep, releases inside marius so thick and hot that even though marius isnt going through a rut of his own, his own cock gives another feeble twitch.

all the times after that are kindaaaaa a blur for both of them HAHA.

the morning after though, marius wakes up. hes cuddled up against luke and he is no longer covered in come and the thought that luke had cleaned him up after makes marius' heart go all warm. luke totally has a whole "IM SO SORRY FOR BEING SO ROUGH LAST NIGHT" and marius has to shush that bullshit with "dude shut up i loved it, chill" and they eventually go make breakfast

or well, they try. the moment marius tries to get out of the bed and walk his legs are just

not working all that well

luke: IM. SO SORRY

marius, genuinely feeling proud about how much dickings he went thru last night: im not ;)

luke: //buries his face in his pillow to hide his blush

[aching-tummies]

(Not exactly sure if I'm really doing this right but here we go.) If I was your partner... I'd take you someplace nice and encourage you to eat whatever you want. After a large meal I'd be the one to drive home, as your complaining of an upset stomach. Wanting a reaction, I'd take you down the secluded, bumpy road to see what happens.

A/N: Thanks for the lovely ask! I kind of deviated a little, incorporating some of what's been going on in my life lately (new job, stresses causing me to skip meals, the craving for pasta, etc.) The beginnings of this do delve into spiraling about weight(loss) and body image stuff a little...so if that's a trigger for people then this is your warning.

It’s been more than two years since we indulged in dine-in service at a place with non-disposable cutlery. I’ve been craving pasta for even longer than that. Creamy, garlic-y, non-reheated pasta served on a plate and twirled around a metal fork.

We haven’t taken any opportunities to celebrate for the last two years. Birthdays, holidays, promotions at work or major advancements in our career adventures—we’ve barely done anything more than acknowledge them as we both go to pick up extra shifts wherever it is that we have been working. Honestly, we’ve seen so little of each other that it wouldn’t surprise either of us if the other snuck in a job-change in the last two years. That all changes tonight.

A nearby pasta place is offering dine-in service. We booked a reservation for tonight—all you have to do is pick me up from work and we can head on over.

I’m the one that managed to sneak in a job-change in the craziness. Fast-food to office intern. I’m barely handling things. I’ve been beyond exhausted because the change happened suddenly. The office place demanded that I start with them on a whim (despite my only condition on hiring being the time to give my fast-food job the proper two week notice). Due to their abrupt “start now or we will move ahead with other candidates” ultimatum, I’ve been pulling 44+ hour weeks juggling two jobs located on opposite ends of the city.

Tonight is a celebration. Dine-in service by itself is already something to celebrate in my books, but you’re insisting that tonight is for me because I finally finished my dues to the fast-food place. The hellish four weeks of juggling is over. No more calls at midnight from me begging you to pick me up from some random quadrant of the city because I nodded off on the last bus home. No more days where I make it home from my office job only to get an urgent call from the fast-food place begging/demanding that I show up because someone cut work. No more packed weeks with no days off or time to even pack myself lunch. Hopefully no more nights where you have to peel me off of the floor because making it home was all I managed before passing out from exhaustion.

I’ve got an hour before you’re set to come pick me up from my office job. I can’t help but smile as I count down the minutes while working on editing some funding proposal that was shoved at me a couple of minutes ago.

My stomach grumbles at me and I clam up. I blush as I look around to ensure nobody heard it. The office is basically empty. All the other staff seem to have gone off to lunch. That’s something I’m going to have to get used to: the fact that there doesn’t seem to be a set schedule here…people head out to lunch whenever. As a petrified newbie, I haven’t had the guts to just take off whenever. The number of shifts where I’ve stayed here for a full eight hours and then navigated an hour and a half of transit transfers only to come home ravenous is pretty high.

Welp, if a stomach growls and nobody is here to hear it then I guess it doesn’t make a sound. I’ve got an hour left before you come to pick me up and we’re basically just two hours away from satisfying my years long pasta craving. Going out to hunt for food now would only spoil my appetite.

“I AM HERE!”

I giggle at the reference and accompanying gif you’ve sent to announce your arrival. I pack up my area and get up, saying ‘bye’ to Jerry on my way out. The second I walk out that door will mark the start of my days off for the week, something I haven’t had in over a month.

“Hi, sweetie!” I chirp as I open the passenger door and bend over to set down my bag.

As I settle in, folding myself into the car, the movements dislodge a deep rumble from my tummy. I freeze, arm still reaching out to close the door. You snicker at me with your left arm perched on your open window, fingers close to your face and highlighting that charming grin of yours that I love so much.

“Oi, close the door and we can get going.”

I do just that. With the door closed, you carefully back out of the parking space and off we go. We don’t get very far. Ah, the joys of rush hour. No use honking, Karen, you’re not ‘stuck in traffic’—you are traffic and there’s no manager for you to speak to here, moron!

I adjust my seat a little, leaning back and allowing myself to relax. I’ve done it. Tomorrow is a day off. And so is the next day. My first true weekend in over three years and my first days off in over three weeks. I can feel the tension ebbing out of me. My shoulders untense, leaving behind a distinct soreness.

My shoulders aren’t the only thing to stop tensing. Apparently, my abdominals decided to join in as well.

Grrr…RRRR…blr.br…rrr.

I blush and sit up, arms wrapping around my stomach as it continues to snarl at me. The growls come with the sharp pains of hunger pangs and I wince, hugging my tummy and pressing my arms against the pain. The grumbles are quickly drowned out by your laughter.

“Man, no wonder you say your coworkers don’t talk to you here. If I heard that coming from a newbie I’d be scared of ‘em too.”

“S-Shut up!” I don’t want to admit that my tummy has been growling very loudly at the office. I’ve skipped more lunches than I’ve eaten in my time here. I lean back in the seat again, arms crossed over my chest as I look away from you, pouting. I’m hungry enough that my stomach really hurts, I’m a panicking newbie at work that doesn’t know the ropes or what’s expected of them, and here you are teasing me.

Your right hand reaches over but instead of stopping on the shift stick it continues further until your palm finds my stomach. The gentle pressure and the warmth of your palm nudging right over where my stomach joins my intestines aids in the relaxation of my tensed muscles and brings forth another loud grumble from my guts. You move your hand slightly, patting and rubbing my flat tummy absentmindedly as you keep the rest of you focused on traffic.

“You’ve lost weight.”

“Y-Yeah…” I don’t want to admit that I’m happy about it. My waistband was loose enough to fall to my thighs before I put my belt on this morning. I love it but you and I both know weight and eating are sore subjects for me. I bite my tongue to keep from asking whether or not you think the weight loss is a good thing or not. Your tone was flat—it was an observation. The fact that I’ve been too busy and stressed out to have time to eat (or digest properly when I do) has led to the rapid shedding of pounds. Not just in the last three or four weeks, but for a long time yet. The reasons for the weight loss aren’t good…but I really do like the results, so I don’t want to hear it from you…good or bad…I don’t want to hear it. Thankfully, you don’t push the issue. Traffic picks up and you remove your hand from my stomach and put it back on the wheel.

My stomach continues to gripe and snarl as we make our way through the city at a crawl. I no longer have work to distract me and your impromptu massage has definitely woken the beast in my guts. ‘Starving’ doesn’t even begin to cover how my stomach feels. I’m starting to feel the other effects of the lack of food too. Light-headedness, feeling cold, and a limpness in my limbs. I want to press my arms into my stomach to quell some of the ache and the noises but I just can’t seem to summon the strength to put enough pressure on it. I wish you had kept your hand on my tummy. As much as your touch intensified the hunger, the pressure of your hand on my stomach was kind of comforting. Ugh…this is all wrong. We’ve been together long enough to know that both of us are into tummy stuff. Any other opportunity we’d be all over each other right now. Your mention of the weight I’ve lost and the silence that has followed since is filling me with anxiety. Under normal circumstances you’d have parked the car somewhere to tease my hungry tummy into oblivion. The fact that we’re currently driving in silence when there’s a golden kink opportunity in the palm of our hands is worrisome to me. Suddenly I don’t feel so good about the weight I’ve lost. I like it. It made me look totally bomb in my new office clothes. Buttons don’t strain even when I bend over or stretch. I spend the rest of the car ride lost in my anxieties. I’m not at an unhealthy weight. Sure, losing it is a testament of the stress I’ve been under lately…but it’s not like I’ve been intentionally skipping meals or fixating on some unachievable body image or something. This isn’t about the weight or anything, it was just a happy consequence of the hectic times I’ve gone through.

We arrive at the restaurant and you get out, expecting me to follow. I’ve managed to work myself into a ball of anxiety in the passenger seat and I don’t move. You pause on the sidewalk when you see me still strapped inside the car. You walk over and open the passenger door.

“Babe?” You see me petrified and chewing on my lip—a tell-tale sign I’m fighting some internal battle. “What’s wrong?” You cup my cheek with your hand, thumb going to pull my lower lip away from my teeth.

“Huh? Wha?” My gaze sharpens as I’m brought back to reality. I didn’t even realize we’ve arrived.

“What’re you thinking about?”

“Uhm…w-well…y-you said…n-nevermind.” I unbuckle the seatbelt and step out of the car. You frown as you think back on what I meant about you having said something.

“Oh, about the weight loss?” I freeze. Bingo. “Babe—I didn’t mean anything by it, honest. Just an observation.” You scratch at the back of your head. “You’ve been under a lot of stress lately and gosh knows neither of us has had time to cook or pack lunches. I was just thinking that maybe we should work on that together. Going hungry so often sounds like a dream, kink-wise…but neither of us has had time for that lately. I was going to suggest creating a mealplan or something together, maybe bringing out the slow cooker and freezing some stuff so that we can just grab and go for work going forward.” I stumble over and rest my head on your shoulder, giving a slight nod.

I’m overwhelmed. One thing you said sent me spiraling and you just pulled me out of it.

“Ugh…don’t do that again.”

You smirk. “I won’t. Rather than think yourself into a hole over that, you should really think about what it is you want to eat. We’re ordering off the full menu tonight.”

My eyes widen. The full menu has more selection but it’s way more expensive. Every time we’ve come here in the past, we have always ordered off the specials menu—the discounted, half-size portions that they offer. You smile seeing my stunned reaction.

“Birthdays, holidays—and Sweets, you got a job! You got a job where you don’t have to deal with the dreaded ‘customer’. I’m proud of you, Sweets. This…this is supposed to be a celebration…right? For all the celebrating we haven’t been able to do in…damn, how long has it been—” Your rambling is cut off when I seal your lips with mine. I step back with a grin, watching the dumbfounded, wide-eyed expression pass over to you ‘cuz I’m usually the no-kissy-touchy type.

“Chicken parm with garlic, angel-hair pasta in cream sauce.” I know exactly what I want to order. I’ve known it for over two years. That dish has been taunting me in my dreams for over two years. When I chew on my pillow in my sleep ‘cuz I skipped dinner in lieu of sleep I’m dreaming about that dish. The last time I had it from here was with my parents—long before I met you—for a birthday when I was still in grade school. My stomach growls, punctuating my declaration. The sound shocks you out of your reverie and you slide an arm around my waist, resting your palm against my stomach as you feel all the empty rumbles reverberating beneath your palm.

“Alright. Guess we better walk in before they give away our table…or before you decide it’s quicker just to eat me here in the parking lot.”

Ugh…how am I already full? There’s still so much food on the plate. So, so much. Urrgh…

My stomach silently gripes at me. A sickly, sticky feeling is blooming in my guts. I’m sated but there is still far too much food on my plate. The full menu is more expensive, but they fill the plate up more and often use bigger plates. I’ve forgotten just how big, and my tummy is suffering. Two years is a long time to go without something and I’ve gone without fulfilling my craving for pasta in cream sauce for over two years, maybe even three. That’s a long time…long enough for my stomach to forget how to handle cream sauce, apparently.

I’ve only swallowed about a fifth of my plate and my stomach already feels heavy. The warm bread to start and the bites of chicken parmesan cutlet went down alright. They lined my stomach comfortably and my digestive tract knew exactly how to handle them. The first couple of bites of pasta were cushioned by the bread and chicken. When that lining dissolved away and more of the pasta came into contact with my gastric juices, I realized there was a problem.

My stomach pounced on the bites of bread and the water and cola I chased it down with. I could practically feel my duodenum yawning wide to suck in the masticated bread, my intestines just as hungry for it as I have been all day. When it had to contend with the cream sauce things started to slow down. I can feel a backlog of stuff sitting in my stomach, refusing to be broken down further into a form that will comfortably move onto my intestines. I’m chewing a lot more, my mouth creating more saliva. I feel sick. My stomach doesn’t hurt, yet, but it’s definitely going to as it fights with the creamy, oily pasta.

“Ooh…they’ve got tiramisu here.” You’re eyeing the dessert menu. “It’s your favorite, right?”

“Yeah…but it’s expensive and this is a lotta food.”

“We’re supposed to be celebrating, Sweets. We’ll take whatever you don’t finish to-go. Leftovers are a Godsend, remember? C’mon, let’s live a little.”

I feel a weight settle in my stomach as you flag down a passing wait-staff and order a tiramisu. To share, thank God. My stomach churns in vain, serving only to churn up the mess of creamy pasta and chicken without moving it along further in the digestive process. The sphincter to my duodenum is squeezed tight, refusing passage to the foreign cream and oil mix that it doesn’t seem to recognize.

I managed to finish just under half of my plate before the dessert arrived. I decided to throw in the towel and asked for the rest to be packed up to-go. I put on a smile as we share the dessert and hope it’s not as shaky as my guts feel. The dessert is delicious. Rich, flavorful, and perfect. If only I didn’t have to feel it sickeningly sliding down my esophagus, plopping down heavily into a stomach crammed much too full with indigestible pasta. As my stomach clenches and churns things around the creamy tiramisu is going to get incorporated with the rest of the mess. It’s going to make it thicker and creamier…as if it wasn’t already too thick and too creamy for my duodenum to open up and allow it to wreak havoc in my intestines. As sick as my overstuffed stomach feels, I am a little grateful that my duodenum is being a stubborn prick.

If the creamy mess had passed into my intestines, I’d be doubled over in the bathroom right now, rubbing futilely at my revolting intestines. I know what dairy does to my guts. It doesn’t usually happen, just when I’m stressed or it’s close to that time of the month. It’s nasty and it hurts bad enough that I honestly think hell is enduring those cramping intestines for eternity.

We finish the tiramisu. You offer me the lion’s share, but I refuse and push it back to you with a mention on my stomach being really full. I bring my hands to my stomach and I catch the way your eyes smolder at the sight. Good. Yes. Get us home quickly, darling.

You pay for the meal, and we are off. I clutch my tummy behind my bag as we walk out to the car. Every step sends aftershocks into my guts and it’s really upsetting things in my stomach.

As I settle in the passenger seat, I notice the buttons on my blouse are a little bit strained around my stomach. Horror sets in and I quickly fumble to get the buttons undone. I don’t want to ruin my shirt and the sight of the straining buttons triggers something nasty in my mind. I calm down a little once the buttons are undone and I rub my tummy under the cover of my bag, palms running up and down the dark undershirt that is draped snugly over my full belly.

“It’s still early. Want to really paint the town red and see if we can catch a movie somewhere?”

I swallow back a sickly belch to answer your question, my questing hands churning up the mess in my guts and dislodging air pockets.

“Umph…n-no…let’s go home.”

“Sweets, you okay?” Your voice is laced with concern. Surely you can hear the sickly squelching from my guts. Do I have to spell it out for you?

“Hmm? No,” I blush as I fidget and grapple with whether or not to come clean. I’m shy about this kind of stuff—you’re my partner though and have been for a long time—we’re both into tummy stuff—we haven’t done anything on this front in a very long time. Making my decision, I move my back over to the floor, resting it against my shins and I lean back, allowing you full view of my distended tummy with my blouse undone. “I just…uhm…m-my tummy’s kinda…upset…I just really want to get home.” My stomach burbles sickly throughout our conversation. I have both my hands on the rounded curve of it, rubbing at tender spots with my thumbs.

Your eyes widen at the sight of my belly rounding out my undershirt. You start the car and pull out of our stall. Instead of righting the car onto the road you keep backing into a more secluded spot on the far end of the lot. This one is obscured by an overgrown bush or tree on the passenger side.

I haven’t even bothered with getting my seatbelt on. I was too caught up in my indigestion to think of it despite it normally being a habit. To be fair, I don’t think the seatbelt is a good idea with my tummy so bloated and sore.

“What are you—”

You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn in your seat, giving me your full attention. My seat is still reclined a little further than normal from the drive over. Gently, you put a hand on my shoulder, indicating for me not to sit up. Your eyes briefly meet mine and convey your plan before they go back to fixating on my belly.

I relax my arms, letting them rest at my sides as you slide a hand over the crest of my bloated gut. I bite back a groan as the slight pressure of your hand increases the pressure in my intestines. My stomach is packed full with an indigestible mass of creamy pasta. My duodenum is not allowing any of that entry into my intestines so they sit, bloated with air. The ingredients for a very upset tummy are inside of me…they just need a bit of a push to act as a catalyst.

The push comes in the form of a literal push as you place both hands, one on each side of my tummy, and squeeze. I bite back a mewl of pain until the pressure relents and you are sliding your hands all over my taut tummy.

“Oh my…you really are full.”

“Ugh…haven’t…haven’t eaten so much in a long time.” I groan as your hands churn up the mess in my guts. You know what you’re doing. You felt the firmness in my upper left and you know that everything is sitting heavy in my stomach. You focus your massage on my left, on the area where my duodenum is. You rub and nudge and coax at the area, intent on getting the sphincters to unclench and allow my meal to continue to digest.

“Oh…ah!” I can’t help but cry out a little as I feel my duodenum flood with the lumpy mess. A rumbling, wet burble indicates when the sphincter finally gives up and allows the mess in my stomach passage. My stomach acid wasn’t enough to break down the creamy, oily pasta so it’s entering my intestines relatively undigested.

After ten minutes of you massaging my belly, (in)digestion is in full swing. My intestines are filling up with the ache-inducing mass and the straining pressure that started in my stomach has now spread all over my abdomen. You reach over and pull down my seat belt, buckling it before reaching over to get my seat back into an upright position. My stomach cramps sharply with the change in orientation and my mewl of pain is cut off by a harsh belch. You pat my tummy almost teasingly as you right yourself in your seat and start the car.

I don’t bother to keep track of where we are heading. You could be taking me to the movies, intent on letting my indigestion stew for a couple of hours, or you could be driving us home. I don’t care. I can’t care because every ounce of me is focused on the sharp pains exploding all over my guts as the car hits every bump in the road. Damned city not bothering to spend money to fix the thousands of pot-holes in our roads. My stomach is just as vocal as I am about the indigestion.

You brake sharply, causing the seatbelt to dig into my tummy and tear a sharp gasp of pain from me. I see the road ahead of us…it’s not a road at all but literally the worst road in our city. This stretch of road is famous even outside of our city for just how bumpy and nasty it is. People scrape the undercarriage of their cars if they aren’t careful in avoiding the potholes that litter this thing like craters on the moon. People have lost pieces of their cars and done massive damage to their vehicles by driving down this road. People around here know to avoid this road. The alternative is a ten minute detour to take the safer, newer road and everyone agrees that ten minutes more is better than damaging their car on this road so it is always empty.

“Darling, no—”

You floor it, going down the secluded road at a high speed. We hit every bump and hole in the thing (that won’t damage the car)…you used to come down this thing often and you’re a master at navigating it to avoid damage to the vehicle. Damage to my tummy, on the other hand.

My stomach gives off aborted grumbles and gripes, each one interrupted as we hit another bump in the road. My tummy sloshes and churns. Digestion had stalled without your hands pushing everything along, but this new form of “massage” in the form of a very bumpy ride is kick starting things all over again…in the wrong direction. Stuff swirls inside of my stomach and I swear that it’s filling up rather than emptying. The pressure is building in my stomach. I’d like to believe it’s the air from my intestines, but I’m sure we managed to get most of that out with your massage in the parking lot.

"Ugh…ouch…ah—ow! Ungh…my tummy…urp…my tummy…ulp…” I can’t help it. Belches and protests roll through my throat, unchecked. It’s better than the alternative of something solid, I guess. The road has increased the upset tenfold as I clutch my stomach in both hands. The road has dialed the cramping pains up to eleven and many more aches and tender spots have erupted thanks to the bumpy ride. We’re about halfway through the road when I feel something solid tickling at my esophagus.

“Ugh—Babe—STOP!” I reach up and slap a hand over my mouth, fearing that we’re about to see my dinner come back out.

You slam on the brakes and the pressure from the seatbelt is what does it. My mouth fills with the sour mess of barely-digested pasta.

“Ugh…urk…” I swallow back the bile. It’s nasty, but there’s no receptacle and I don’t want to stink up the car. Luckily, this wasn’t a true vomiting session triggered internally—it was basically regurgitation brought on by external factors—like the seatbelt putting too much pressure on my over-packed tummy. My stomach snarls violently at the return of the sickly concoction.

You watch my struggle, fascinated. Reaching over, you put a hand on my palm, a hand that is quickly slapped away as I give you the fiercest glare I can muster.

“None of that until you get me home, darling.”

You grin, exaggerating taking your foot off of the brake pedal. I realize my poor phrasing a moment too late.

“As you command, Sweets.”

“Darling, no—”

[morosemagick]

What Happens Here | Finan x OC One Shot

Prompt: There's Only One Bed (as joked about with @emilyhufflepufftlk!) Title Inspired by the song "What Happens Here" by Zara Larrson!

Warning: Recreational Drinking & Smut. Lots of Smut

Words: 4318

Tagged:

@solinarimoon @emilyhufflepufftlk @magravenwrites @lauwrite1225 @obipoelover @thebohemianpenguin @axe-does-writing @for-bebbanburg

She wasn't sure why she was here. Well, she was, Sigrid's baby brother was getting married this weekend. Her family followed many old norse traditions (never mind the fact that his fiance was Christian) so weddings in their family were a big deal. When her brother, Sihtric, called Sigrid to tell her the news he all but begged her to come home for the wedding.

They were the only family that mattered, In each other's eyes, it was a big deal for her to go home.

So she did.

Sihtrics' fiance made plans for the wedding party to stay in the same house for the whole weekend. The wedding party included all their friends… all of which are either married or dating each other.

One, then, would understand just how awkward it is when Sigrid finds out she'll be sharing a room with the only other single person in the party.

Her brother's best friend, Finan.

She didn't know much about the guy other than the fact that they went to Uni together, and that she just beat him out for best man.

Talk about being set up for disaster.

"Sigrid, I didn't realize you would make it in time," Sihtric tried to apologize privately after his fiance, Ealhswith, broke the news, but Sigrid just wasn't having it, "Maybe we'll ask one of the guys to just.. double up or something."

"Your entire wedding party is couples, Sihtric, you can't just ask them to not share a room with their partner," Sigrid argued as she slumped into a chair in her brothers' suite, "I can go to a hotel, it's fine."

"You're my sister, I want you here," Sihtric told her with a sad look, "Let me talk to Finan when he gets here."

"Tell me the room has a couch, at least?" Sigrid asked him and the look he gave her was not very comforting, "Why are you like this?"

"It's one weekend, Sigrid, please! I get married tomorrow," Sihtric walked over to his sister and got on one knee as he begged her, "all you have to do is play nice-"

"I am always nice!" Sigrid argued with a smirk across her face, but seeing the puppy dog look on her brother's face was enough for her to oblige, "Fine! I'll share the room, but he's sleeping on the floor."

"Thank you, Sigrid!" Sihtric smiles as he jumps to hug her, making the chair fall over.

Sigrid laughed as they fell, hugging him back, "Alright, alright! Let's get going, I need a drink!"

"I'm sure Ealhswith has started the party without us," Her brother laughs as they both get up, and fix the chair before heading down to the main living space of the house

————————————<3—————————————

Finan gets to the house last and everyone is starting to drink without him. Since everyone is drinking, no one sees him sneak in, finding Uhtred in the kitchen.

Uhtred was another groomsman, as well as Sihtric's cousin.

"Uhtred?" Finan questions as he finds his friend, who smiles at the sight of him, "Good lord, what have you done to your hair?"

The last he saw his friend, Uhtred had long hair with the sides shaved and the rest shoved in a high ponytail. Now that was gone too and the long hair cut short.

"Ah, Gisela did not want me to look like a heathen for my cousin's wedding," Uhtred chuckles as he greets his friend with a handshake, "How was the drive?"

"Long," Finan huffs with a smile, "Where's my room? I need to change."

"Your room," Uhtred snickered as he pulled out a bunch of shot glasses from a cabinet, "Someone should have been here earlier.. you would have had a better pick."

Finan scrunches his brows, "Why- where am I?"

Uhtred glances his way and shrugs, turning back to what he was doing, "You should be asking who you are with."

"Seriously? Sihtric wants me to share a room?" Finan questioned Uhtred, who snickers his breath as he found a bottle and started to pour them shots, "With who? No one else is staying here."

"The best man," Uhtred explained with a smirk on his lips, "You'll be fine."

Finan took one of the shots and downed it quickly, Uhtred already filling his glass, "I thought Sihtrics' best man wasn't coming tonight?"

"Apparently they made the flight," Uhtred tells him as he puts the rest of the shots on a tray to carry to the other room.

Finan didn't know much about the man who managed to upstage him as best man for his best friend's wedding, other than they were siblings. One he hadn't seen in a long time. It's hard to be mad at being picked over family, except for when you've known the guy for 5 years, and not once has he mentioned having a brother.

But it was not Finan's wedding, it was Sihtrics'.

Uhtred and Finan make their way into the main living room just as Sihtric and a woman Finan has never seen before enters the room. Sihtric drags her closer to the group of couples who make up the rest of the wedding party, and points to the woman, "Everyone, you remember my sister? Sigrid, this is the rest of the wedding party."

A sister?

Finan only learned about a brother… but a sister? He had no idea.

"It's nice to see everyone, again," Sigrid says with a chuckle and a slight wave, looking around at everyone in the room.

As her eyes meet Finan's, he can feel his heart drop to his feet. She's fucking gorgeous.

Uhtred puts the tray of shots down on the coffee table in the middle of the room, and everyone else reaches over to grab a shot.

"Wait!" Uhtred shots before anyone has a chance to take their shot, "Perhaps the maid of honor and best man should say a few words?"

Gisela; Uhtred's wife and Ealhswith's maid of honor, is first to stand, "To Sihtric and Ealsie! We all wish you many happy years together!"

Gisela then glances at Sigrid, and for a moment Finan is really confused.

That is... until she starts to speak.

"To my baby brother and his wife to be," Sigrid adds as she raises her shot glass, "Anyone who can put up with Sihtric is a saint, we are happy to have you become one of us, Ealhswith." Ealhswith wipes a tear from her face as Sigrid tips her glass just slightly, "Cheers!"

The rest of the party yells cheers, except for Finan, who's frozen in place looking mighty confused.

"You alright there, Finan?" Asks Osferth, Sihtrics' childhood friend and another groomsman, as he walks over and nudges his arm.

"I am… lost," Finan explains as he raises the shot glass to his lips.

"Oh, I should've told you," Uhtred puts his hand on Finan's shoulder and smirks, "Sihtrics' sister is his best man."

The words come out of Uhtred's mouth just as Finan takes his shot, causing the Irishman to choke on his liquor.

"She's what?!"

————————————<3—————————————

"He's handsome isn't he?" Gisela whispers to Sigrid as she lifts the cocktail to her mouth.

"Who?"

"Finan, Sigrid, are you not listening!" Ealhswith tries to whisper but she's a bit tipsy so it's not really as quiet as she intends.

Sigrid glances over her future sister-in-law's shoulder at the men, who are currently in the middle of a drinking contest. From the looks of it, Sihtric is not winning.

Next to her brother, cheering him on is Finan. There's a big, cheeky, smile on the Irishman's face as he encourages Sihtric to keep drinking and for just a moment, she can see his eyes glance her way.

Okay, maybe they are onto something.

Finan is tall with longish hair and a thick beard. Sigrid guesses he must work out with just how his broad his shoulders are, and his even broader chest… and those arms-

Okay, fine. He's gorgeous. They win.

But she won't tell them that, "Yeah. He's alright."

"Oh come on," Eadith chuckles, playfully shoving Sigrid's side, "Most of us would like a piece of that Irish-"

"Eadith!" Gisela gasps with a smile.

"What," Eadith shrugs, "I have eyes, I can use them."

"Osferth doesn't satisfy enough, Eadith?" Sigrid smirks, leaning back on the couch. They were an odd couple, Eadith and Osferth, but the two of them seemed to really work in sync.

"Oh he satisfies just fine," Eadith raises a brow as she takes a sip of her drink, "There is nothing I would change about how that man performs in bed."

"Alright- I've heard enough," Sigrid raises her hand as she leans forward to put her drink down and the other girls boo her and laugh at her embarrassment, "I need to piss, and you ladies need water."

"Ah, come on, Sigrid, don't be a prude!" Ealhswith whines as Sigrid starts to rise from her seat.

"I draw the line on sharing sex life secrets of men I've known since I was a child," Sigrid laughs as she gets to her feet and heads for the bathroom.

When she gets to the bathroom, she wets her face a bit to cool herself down, grateful she isn't wearing much makeup. After a deep breath, she starts to open the door to leave, and on the other side waiting is Finan.

"Oh, I didn't realize-"

"No it's fine," Sigrid tells him as she tries to go around him awkwardly. He doesn't move much, so they are pretty close to each other as Sigrid tries to go around but instead of moving they both find themselves stuck chest to chest in the doorway.

She's never been a shy woman, but she usually isn't the one to make the first move. So tonight, she's lucky she's tipsy because now she has all the confidence she needs to do whatever stupid thing she wishes.

Include flirting with this man.

"So you're the man I'm supposed to share a bed with," Sigrid smirks as her chest rises and falls with every deep breath she takes.

Finan raises a brow, "I thought it was just a room."

"I don't know if you've been in there yet," Sigrid glances down the hall to make sure no one is coming, and then looks back at Finan, "But there's only one bed."

"What a shame," Finan tells her as he leans forward, stopping right as he hovers her lips, "Looks like you'll be on the couch."

Sigrid doesn't break eye contact as she takes a deep breath and then smirks, "What couch?"

He leans back with eyebrows scrunched and a semi smile on his face, and Sigrid takes that moment to wink and walk away.

She has no idea how she's expected to spend the night alone with this man.

————————————<3—————————————

Finan is fucked.

More than fucked.

He's been trying to fight the urge to flirt with his best friend's sister all night, because… you know... best friend's sister.. and then he runs into her by the bathroom. It was so painfully tempting to pull her into the room, lock the door, and do whatever he can to please her but he contains himself.

Because that's his best friend's sister, and he really shouldn't fuck her.

But he really wants to.

And it's not just because she's gorgeous. It's her light smile, the way she laughs, and her eyes… Sigrid has the bluest ocean eyes Finan just wants to get lost in.

He's trying not to focus on the fact that they've basically set him up. Giving Finan the room with a single bed and single women.

At least… he thought she was?

"Osferth," Finan leans over the kitchen island so he can quietly ask his questions to his friend, "Sigrid isn't… taken, is she?"

"Why? Sharing a room seeming less terrifying and more interesting?" Osferth questions with a smirk of his own and Finan snacks the side of his head.

"I'm just asking, I don't want to make her uncomfortable," Finan tells him, hoping his excuse doesn't make him seem too pathetic.

"Just keep your pants on and you shouldn't have a problem," Uhtred laughs as he enters the kitchen with two empty cups in his hand.

"Where's Sihtric?" Osferth asks as Uhtred joins them at the island.

"I think he's gone to consummate his wedding a touch early," Uhtred laughs and the other two men roll their eyes.

"How are the women?" Finan asks, more curious about Sigrid than the rest of them...

"Gisela is tired, and Eadith may need help getting to her bed," Uhtred answers, looking directly at Osferth as he brings up his girlfriend.

"That's my cue then," Osferth chuckles, "Goodnight, gentlemen."

Finan and Uhtred wave goodnight as Osferth walks away, and when Finan looks at Uhtred he has a devious smile on his face, "What?"

"Sigrid has already headed to bed if you wish to join her," Uhtred tells Finan with a raised brow.

Finan rolls his eyes as he wipes his hands across his face, "Uhtred-"

"Your secret is safe with me," Uhtred laughs as he raises his hands in the air.

"And what secret is that?" Gisela questions as she enters the room.

"There is no secret, Gisela, I think your husband is drunk," Finan tells the women and Uhtred laughs again.

"If you want to fuck her just go ahead and do it, no one will tell Sihtric," Uhtred tells him, and Finan groans as Gisela hits her husband.

"Uhtred!"

"She's your cousin…"

"I'm not the one who wants to fuck her," Uhtred tells them in his own defense, "And besides, if you do decide you don't like her then Sigrid goes back to New York and you never see her again."

Gisela sighs heavily, disappointed with her husband, "Uhtred, you are awful."

"I am brutally honest, it's a gift," Uhtred shrugs as he pulls his wife close, "And you married me, remember?"

Gisela rolls her eyes and smirks his way, "Unfortunately, I do, and we should get to bed."

Uhtred raises a brow with interest, and immediately starts to pull his wife away, "Goodnight, Finan."

"Goodnight," Finan tells them as he's left alone in the kitchen. Now that he is alone, he sighs, and then makes his way to the main living room.

The room is empty now, with everyone going to their respective rooms. He can very well go upstairs, grab his things and then sleep on the couch. They look like they'd be unbearable to sleep on, but it would be better than attempting to share a room with Sigrid. It's the smarter choice, he tells himself as he heads upstairs to get his things.

There is no way he'll survive a night alone with that woman.

————————————<3—————————————

Part of Sigrid is grateful she went upstairs first, she was able to change into a comfortable pair of joggers, a baggy shirt, and a sports bra. She thought about forgoing the bra altogether, but she's a bigger chested girl and her back wouldn't be happy with that.

So instead, she chooses to go without her underwear.

But now she's alone for a while now, and part of her wonders if Finan is alone on the couch trying to sleep. She can't imagine they're any more comfortable to sleep on than they were to sit on, and starts to feel bad for claiming the room for herself.

Sigrid even feels bad enough to gather some of the extra blankets and pillows in the room and go to the door and bring them downstairs to Finan, but he's standing right there when she opens the door.

"Oh," Sigrid smiles shyly at the sight of him, "Hey, I was just going to-"

"I- I just came up here for my stuff," He stutters with a smile and after a moment or two they both chuckle.

Sigrid and Finan stare at each other for a few moments before she finally tells him, "Come in, it's your room too after all."

"I shouldn't stay," Finan tells her with a soft voice.

He's sweet and definitely not as forward as most of the men Sigrid has encountered in her life. It's a nice change of pace, to do the chasing instead of being chased.

"What If I want you to stay," Sigrid smiles, throwing the pillow in her hand back into the room, which frees her hand to take Finan's, "There's space in here for the both of us."

————————————<3—————————————

There's space in here for the both of us.

Finan swallows hard as Sigrid takes his hand and pulls him into the room, dropping the spare blankets she once held onto the floor. This must be a dream. Perhaps he's already asleep on the couch because there's no way this woman is leading him across the room towards the bed. She can't possibly be unbuttoning his shirt, agonizingly slow, working each button slowly with soft fingers.

He wants to devour this woman whole.

"Sigrid," He calls her name and she hums in response as she focuses on finishing his shirt, "What are you doing?"

"You can't sleep in this shirt, you'll get it wrinkled," She tells Finan softly, a smile on her face as her eyes keep on the buttons. As she undoes the last one Sigrid finally looks up, her eyes following her fingers up his chest and to his shoulders.

She's feeling him up as she slides the button-up shirt off his shoulders and down his arms, letting it drop to the floor. The shirt hits the floor with a soft thump, and Sigrid looks up, "Is this fine?"

"Is this fine for you?" Finan has to ask because he still isn't sure whether or not this is a dream, "You don't have to do any of this."

Sigrid smirks with her head at a tilt, "So you don't want me?"

"I just… don't usually sleep with strangers," Finan tells her as Sigrid's hands find his chest again, "Especially not my best friend's sisters."

"I hope not," Sigrid tells him as her fingers move down his chest, and he wonders if she can feel how hard his heart is pumping, "Thyra is married."

"You know what I mean, Sigrid," Finan tells her and she looks up again and smiles. One of his hands involuntarily moves up to touch her face, moving from her jaw to the back of her neck, "I just have to make sure you want this."

She nods, her eyes focusing on his lips, "You should've taken me in the bathroom."

"If I'm going to take care of you, it'll be on the bed," Finan tells her as he leans down, pulling her towards him as her eyes start to flutter shut in anticipation of his lips, "And I plan on taking excellent care of you."

First thing Finan notices when he kisses her is that Sigrid tastes like sweet alcohol and fruit. The second thing he notices is that he feels like a starved man getting sustenance for the first time. Her mouth is paradise, and he's only just started to uncover her.

His free hand moves to Sigrid's waist, pulling her closer until they are flushed together and she must feel how hard he is because she's grinding herself against the hardness in his pants.

The kissing gets more frantic, with tongues colliding and at one point Finan can feel Sigrid's teeth scraping against his bottom lip and it's intoxicating.

Both hands find their way down to Sigrid's waist and onto her ass, and with a tight grip, Finan lifts Sigrid into the air and brings her to the bed without once breaking the kiss. Not until he lowers her down, only then does Sigrid break the kiss to speak.

"Clothes… off," She whispers into his mouth as her hands find his waistline, trying to fumble with his belt, "Now."

Finan rises up for a moment to take off his shirt, pulling in up and over his head I'm one motion. Meanwhile, Sigrid has undone his belt and to speed things along Finan manages to take off the rest, leaving him in nothing but his boxers as he returns to however over Sigrid.

His hands move to her waist lifting up the shirt she's wearing up as they ride up her chest. Sigrid helps him lift it off her by raising her hands up as Finan pulls off her shirt. She smiles now as Finan goes for her pants pulling them down slowly to reveal the fact that she's gone without underwear.

Finan groans as the pants go lower, "Good Christ, woman." The pants are off and Sigrid moves quickly to remove her bra and now she's completely naked under him, and it's absolutely breathtaking, "You are goin' to ruin me."

Sigrid is smirking as he lowers himself down her body to get better access to her lower half, lifting her legs over his shoulder, as he mutters her praise's in Irish, and just as his tongue runs against her cunt that smirk fades into a gasp and a moan.

He's grateful Sigrid cannot see the cheeky grin on her face, from where his head is hidden between her legs, working her with his tongue like a man starved. She must like what he's doing because her legs wrap around his head and neck to pull him closer, and he can feel a hand find its way into his hair, pulling hard.

"Fuck, Finan," He hears her moan, trying not to be too loud by the sound of it, "Fuck…" Sigrid cums with a gasp, loosening the grip on his neck with her legs so that Finan can come up to air, returning to mouth so that he can kiss her and hard.

"You taste like heaven," Finan tells her, the words just slipping through his lips like he has no control, "I could spend the rest of my days between your legs and die happy."

"Then how would I know what your cock feels like?" Sigrid questions him with a raised brow as reaches a hand down to grab him through his boxers, "Take these off and fuck me."

Finan does what he's told, using one hand to pull his boxers down his legs and then kicking them the rest of the way off so he can continue to kiss Sigrid. Once they are gone, he goes to align his cock with her folds and remembers something very important, "Shit, condom-"

"UDI," She tells him as she breaks the kiss, "So if you're clean-"

"I am," Finan nods as he kisses her again and starts slowly pushing his way inside Sigrid. Her mouth opens to a gasp as he thrusts his way in, given another inch every time he returns until he's all the way in, "Fuckin' Christ, woman."

Sigrid wraps her legs around his waist as Finan continues to fuck her, his arms secure at either side of her head, as she wraps her fingers around his neck to hold herself steady against him. Foreheads touching because neither of them can seem to concentrate on kissing the other.

It's greater than paradise being tangled like this. With Sigrid.

It's home, and he never wants to leave.

He's getting close, Finan can tell because his breathing has started to shutter and he's groaning, so Sigrid lifts herself up to kiss him again to keep them both silent. A thrust or two more is all it takes and he finishes inside her, continuing to move just a bit more until he's sure he's given her everything he has to give.

Finan's arms collapse and Sigrid brings him down gently so that he's resting in her chest. They are both panting, and he can feel her fingers running through his hair and it feels incredible.

So he has no idea why he says, "I should probably go back downstairs."

"Leave this bed and I'll kick your pretty Irish ass," Sigrid tells him with a calm voice and when he glances up she's smiling.

"You think my ass is pretty?" Finan smirks and Sigrid laughs as he wraps his arms around her body and holds her close.

It looks like Finan isn't going anywhere.

Which is exactly what he wanted.

————————————<3—————————————

Sigrid wants to say she wakes up the morning after the best sex of her life to the face of the extremely attractive Irishman in her bed, but she doesn't.

Instead, she wakes up to Ealhswith looking directly at her with a smile on her face and her hand over Sigrid's mouth.

"Shush, I've come to sneak you out," Ealhswith whispers terribly with a giggle, holding a robe up with her other hand, "Come on, your brother is still sleeping!"

Sigrid takes the robe from her hands and Ealhswith closes her eyes as she covers her naked body, taking a moment to glance back at Finan. He's still fast asleep, and she desperately wishes she can stay in bed with him.

"Come on, Sigrid, you can stare at him later!" Ealhswith yell-whispers again, as she pulls Sigrid out of the room.

Once the door closes behind her, Sigrid glances at Ealhswith who has a big smile on her face, and raises a brow, "Ealhswith?"

"Yes?" She smiles wide, looking up to no good.

Sigrid crosses her arms over her chest and tilts her head, "You did this on purpose, didn't you?"

"I did," Ealhswith chuckles as she pushes her along, "And all I ask for in return is to be the best man at your wedding.'

Sigrid laughs at Ealhswith's request as she gets pushed away.

Yet a year later, when Sigrid finds herself walking down the aisle in a white dress with Finan waiting for her at the other end, waiting next to where she will stand is Ealhswith in her best man's tux and a wide smile on her face.

[echo-three-one]

Whatever It Takes : Reloaded

They're on a mission, chasing a lead in hopes of locating where The Shadow Company is situated.

Table of Contents

Previous Chapter : Vlad the Janitor

Chapter 20 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

forgive the piccrew

Undying Admiration

Francine "France" Winters

Safe house 110197, Brazil

"Look at them two, you think we could do that too?" Soap asked France. They were both seated on Soap's side of the floor, the soft foam caught their asses as they crossed their legs while Soap spun around a water bottle.

"You and me? Sing and Dance? Never in a million years!" She denied looking at the poor guy's attempt to actually get her to like him. She thinks he already knew that she's already falling for him since day one. But she wanted to focus on other things at hand rather than distract herself with romance. Maybe if this was all over and he's still there, he'll finally get the answer he's looking for.

"Why not? I'm kinda okay with singing." He grinned. Francine giggled. Sure he is, his overconfidence was getting attractive for her. If they weren't soldiers in a war, they'd probably be making out again. What happened back at the Gulag was an impulse, she never saw it coming as she almost lost hope for his absence.

"Why don't you like… sing for me?" She dared her eyes stared intensely into Soap's eye-catching baby blue orbs. She made a mental note that staring for more than five seconds in those were already dangerous, so she always breaks it before the fifth.

"Why do you do that?" He asked, his voice was giving her ears a good time. Yes. She's falling for him. It felt like everything he does is attractive, but she shouldn't be too quick, life has taught her that the faster she falls in love, the faster they leave. So she had to test the guy's patience.

"Do what?" she asked as if she didn't know what he meant.

"Look me in the eyes then immediately break it as soon as I stare long enough…" His eyes squinted towards her as she evaded eye contact.

"I don't do that." She easily shrugged it off and got up.

"Well, good night. John. We have an early mission tomorrow." She got up as Soap trailed his eyes on her, the look of admiration was painted all across his face.

"Can you not look at me like that?!" She pleaded as her cheeks blushed. Her boyish appeal on the force always repelled attention and now this guy was admiring her for who she is and she felt happy.

"I won't do it if I get a good night's kiss." he pouted his wonderful lips. Lips she actually really wanted to taste again.

"Good Night John." She said as she closed the men's bedroom door and went to her bed.

~

When Price told her about a small recon mission, she never knew it was this small. The team only consisted of her and Ghost riding a rental truck to a village which was a few kilometers away from their safe house. The point person was an alleged nephew of a soldier that currently works for Shepherd. It was almost a dead lead but the intel being accessible enough was sort of worth it.

Rule of engagement is "Don't".

The village would most likely be unarmed, unprotected and peaceful. But Price advised to keep a side arm in case things go awry. It was a good call, and France noted to herself that she won't ever fire a shot for this mission as to not raise any sort of attention in addition to what Shepherd already gave them.

"Looks like it's time to go." Soap muttered as Ghost passed through them looking prepared.

Soap nodded goodbye to the man but he just continued walking.

"Maybe he had earphones on." he muttered as he pouted his lips. France softly reached for his cheek and shoved it sideways.

"In your dreams." She laughed as she waved goodbye.

"Every night." He winked as France made an almost disgusted face and followed Ghost. She was lucky enough that she quickly moved that Soap won't see her blushing cheeks.

France hoisted herself on the shotgun of the car and smiled at her partner, who looked serious. Without his mask, he was your average tough british soldier, and he looked like he wasn't in for some small talk while driving. France respected his privacy and trailed her eyes elsewhere, looking at the lush greenery and muddy tracks of tropical Brazil.

France wasn't a fan of quiet road trips, she tried humming to tunes from her playlist as the loud revving of the rental jeep overpowered her voice.

"Are you usually this quiet?" France asked, trying to break the silence between them.

"Yeah. You got a problem with that?" He replied, his eyes trailed on the road as it hit a bump. France actually felt shocked toward his reply and she started to worry about what she did wrong.

"You know you could always say no to Price's orders instead of regretting and wishing Roach would be here instead of me." She pouted, crossing her arms.

"Well that wasn't my case but now that you said it, maybe I should've asked for Roach instead!" He yelled. France couldn't help but shed a tear. She actually had no idea towards his hostility and the thought of not knowing any reason made her mad.

"Wow. Okay." she squirmed and unbuckled her seatbelt causing Ghost to slow down his driving.

"Where are you going? The village is still far from here!" he asked, France never bothered to talk to him as she simply walked away from the path.

Ghost immediately left the vehicle and followed her, catching her so she won't escape and run away.

"Why are you not replying?!" He asked, gripping her hands, restricting her movement. France used her strength to break free of his slightly weak grip and turned to him.

"You see now how it feels? To ignore someone without knowing why?!" She raised her voice. This seemed to make sense to Simon as he actually looked like he's sorry.

"I… " he sighed and looked at her, his eyes were lost and sad.

"I can't talk to you anymore… because I like you… but you've already set your eyes on someone else… so I just had to ignore you hoping that it'll make it less painful." he muttered. Complete silence filled the air.

France didn't know what to do. She didn't know what to say. It may be true that she already had eyes on a certain Scottish cutie, but telling him the truth all over again would leave such mental scars.

It took her long enough to say something that Ghost already invited her back to the car, and her silence may leave no meaning, but to Ghost it meant a lot, at least he knew that he no longer had a chance on her and would finally move on.

The village was like any other typical village, the elder's house would always be on the highest point and the two opted to ask the village elder first to gather clues.

One clue led to another as they visited each house looking for one Fabian Alvarez, a nephew of an alleged Shadow Company soldier. Only a few were able to speak fluent english and they decided to help, until such time that Fabian decided to show up.

He looked like a five year old kid, holding a rubber ball and he looked at France and Ghost awkwardly before hiding back into his house. Fabian was far too young to know about his uncle's whereabouts and the lead went cold once again.

The ride home was quiet. France didn't want to say anything as she can't. Her heart was like inside a washing machine, swirling around as she thought of how Ghost liked her while she's clearly liking someone else. It must've been hella awkward and painful to see on a daily basis. She felt that once, when her best friend got together with her high school crush and continued to stay together up to this day… She knew how he felt.

~

The moment they got back, she was actually greeted by Soap, who already had his hands wide open for a hug. As usual, France would ignore his gesture and it now felt that she was already helping out Ghost from the pain. But now, she's the one feeling restricted.

It pained her to not get near Soap and he's already starting to notice the indifference. She was actually surprised when he cornered her, just as soon as she stepped out of the shower.

Her cheeks flushed as the idea of her, only wrapped with a towel, stood in front of Soap. She felt really vulnerable in this position.

"What happened out there?" he looked angry but the tone of his voice sounded concerned.

"Nothing, it's just … A dead lead. A waste of time." She replied as she attempted to cross over him.

"And how does that warrant an indifferent approach toward me?" he quickly moved to block her again. She sighed at her actions. He was right. He didn't deserve this treatment, he needed to learn something about the truth.

"We had a little fight with your friend over there…" She muttered, her voice was low enough so he couldn't hear.

"Who, Ghost?" he inched his face closer and his face lit up like a curious bystander who overhears conversations on a daily basis.

"Yeah… It was an unpleasant exchange." She said vaguely.

"Well, it'll all be resolved soon. I guess you're too carried away that you didn't want to talk to me as well…" he chuckled and scratched the back of his head. That gesture always made France happy, he may not notice it but she loves the way his muscles twitch when he scratches his nape. She found it satisfying and hot.

"Yeah… I'll go change." She said, as she frowned as soon as they parted. She knew she had to tell him the specific reason and the events that occured today, but she felt that it would create a domino effect that would lead the team to be uncooperative.

During bedtime, Alex requested France to swap sleeping spaces, meaning that she had to lie down beside Soap. She couldn't find the courage to say no as it might ruin the reunion they both longed for after a very long time.

France swung the door open and found out that they were already asleep, except for Ghost who was once again missing. She used this opportunity to actually wake Soap up and let him be aware that she'll be sleeping beside him. She planned to make both men comfortable by spacing herself between them, by only showing affection to Soap while Ghost's not around, until such time that Ghost would accept the inevitable truth.

"John." She whispered, as Soap lazily opened his eyes and reached out for her, wrapping her in his arms.

"I really like you. A lot. I hope you'll be patient enough for me." She whispered again. She knew he wouldn't hear it but the idea of her actually expressing her thoughts to him, put her at ease, as she slowly closed her eyes and drifted to sleep, wrapped by the arms of the man whom she really admired.

Next Chapter : If I Remember Correctly

Notification Squad my Beloved

@ricinbach @whimsywispsblog @smokeywhalee @samatedeansbroccoli @enderio @beemybee

[lady-plantagenet]

Ship bingo: Anne Boleyn & Henry VIII (I know, I'm not the most original person in this site); and Eleanor Cobham & Humphrey of Gloucester

Hey hey sorry for answering this shipbingo so late hh. Hope you’ll still be interested in my odd and headcanon-y analyses. Since you requested 2 I will write shorter comments if ur ok with that :) x

Anne Boleyn & Henry VIII

‘I broke England from the Church yeah I really am that secksy’ or something along the lines is said by Anne’s character in Six: The Musical. I sorta resent that. I’m not very passionate about this ship nor do I take any ‘sides’, but I must admit I’m more partial to Catherine of Aragon and consider her to be Henry’s true love. The odd thing is, this is also cause a part of my feels like Anne was in some ways to good/evolved for him?? We all know the whole seductress Anne trope or poor set-up pawn Anne, we don’t know which are true but one thing we know for sure is that there was ‘pious outspoken religious reformer Anne’ and that’s what I am more interested in. My admiration grew 1000x when I realised she was heavily critical with where the desolution of the monastery funds were going - how they enriched ministers and lackeys of Henry as opposed to going towards schools. I say all this because my mental Anne Boleyn might be a bit different from most people’s and that will influence how I also see this ship.

I guess the above paragraph explains the ‘I’m picky about it part’, I hate anything that is major baby drama. Delicious and intrigued are oddly left out because I don’t really feel that myself though I understand why others would. It is perhaps because it’s such an overportrayed relationship and because by the time it became a thing Henry was already kind of obese I believe. Sue me, I like both my ship parties to be attractive XD. I would read fic for it just like I would read anything provided it is well written enough. I’m currently reading ‘Chained in War and Love’ by Lady Perserverence on AO3 (you know that one really famous fic in the Tudor fandom) which I suppose counts but since it’s a Francois I of France/Anne Boleyn AU I guess it doesn’t count (and I much prefer this pairing). This ship is one of those historical pairings where it’s hard to deny it was not romantic and sexual, one must remember that there must have been something about Anne in particular that attracted Henry and her educational background was unusually worldly for a woman of minor English nobility, given the fact that she could very well have been 32 (and age which is considered old for motherhood even by our times) by the time she married Henry simply put there must have been a romantic/sexual attraction beyond just her being fertile. She, herself, may have also had reason to feel attracted to him (despite his fatness) because he appears to have exuded the character of a Renaissance Prince which I feel she could have been drawn towards.

To be honest the ‘it’s complicated and unhealthily’ kind of speak for themselves. I feel like a part of the breakdown went beyond her not being able to hear a son because he does not seem to have properly tried like he did with Catherine of Aragon - the marriage was only three years long. I also feel like he was a bit too set in the past for her and she may have felt disillusioned with how he carried out the reformation. I also feel like Henry thought he would find a woman with Catherine’s brand of strength but with an ability to bear children, but despite both women having education in common Anne’s Protestant beliefs made her someone entirely different. Their feelings were strong but they clearly were not made for each other. With that said, theology fasincates me so to an extent I am more interested in the consequences (the reformation and how it changed the fabric of England) then even the ship itself - that is not to say the ship doesn’t interest me. And yes. I could/want to be convinced that this ship is interesting but if anyone wants me to get on board you will have to first throw off ‘seductress Anne’ or ‘poor maligned pawn Anne’. Only mercurial Henry and reformer Anne will do for me. With that said, I really wouldn’t mind the unrequited love trope thrown in there but with Anne accepting him only because Cromwell and co convince her that this is the only way England’s religion can change. I also liked the ‘Anne of One Thousand Days’ spin where it’s unrequited on her side and then turns unrequited on Henry’s side. Now that’s super tragic and would grab my attention. Overall, I like Anne Boleyn but I don’t ship them because I don’t think they were compatible, I don’t like Henry and I hate how the reformation was carried out and how the knock-on effect was the death of the Tudor figures I care the most about: Cardinal Fisher, Thomas More and Margaret Pole.

Eleanor Cobham & Humphrey of Gloucester

I love ships where both figures were described as intelligent by their contemporaries because there’s also a meeting of minds there. It also gives this partners in crime vibes which I really like. This connects to my whole ’delicious’, ‘romantic’, ‘best friends’ and ‘I’m intrigued’. A lot of fun things could be done with this ship and so I would read fic for it but I remain unpicky (except for , you know, prose as per usual). As it happens I also already read fic for this pairing and unless you are her, I would recommend @nuingiliath who writes loads for this couple and is the resident shipper - I believe this is her OTP. On Ao3 she is ‘heartofstanding’ she has plenty of stuff both on her tumblr and on that site so just follow the tags. Also all I know about these guys is from her pretty much.

The thing is, Eleanor Cobham is like Jane Shore for me, she brings out very weird feelings because I am very traditionalist and boring and hate my infidelities and tend to have an aversion towards mistresses. However, like Jane Shore, Eleanor Cobham appears to have had some virtues and was more than a pretty face (apparently Jacobia herself was quite dull and that’s one of the things that turned Humphrey off her but I’m not sure if that’s hearsay). So just like that, I don’t get an ‘ugh’ feeling like I would with people interested in the Bourbon mistresses in the 18th century or such because I much feel like it wasn’t that physical. This is where ‘softly’ comes, the age difference makes me imagine Humphrey as having that dad-aura Idk (and btw no I’m not pleading daddy issues at all - I feel like it quite undermines this couple), his incredible level of learning further feading into this wise persona but obviously his skirmishes with the administration give me an impression of this grand daring man as well. He seemed the picture of true aristocracy and in all the way he falters from those expectations (eg lack of martial talent) I also like to see. As I said, Eleanor also being described as intelligent makes me feel that she was at his level and while I am satisfied that the necromancy charges were shams it does indicate that she was considered bright enough by her contemporaries in order for such charges to be levelled in the first place. While it is true that the whole affair was targeting Humphrey, I really feel like Eleanor herself possessed (or at least was perceived by others as possessing) a certain dangerousness and this course of action was pursued by their rivals in order to kill two birds with one stone. After all, we have seen how easy treason charges can be conjured against magnates who though not technically speaking guilty have acted against the wrong faction eg Clarence’s case. With that I also put ‘best friends’ because I feel like like all those traits derived from the facts I’ve been privy to point to the fact that the two were friends as well as in love and attracted to each other. They really give me a partners-in-crime vibe and I’m always all for that. Not to mention I’m also a sucker of one part of the ship dying (preferably the woman) with the other following not late after or at least never living a fulfilled life as a widow-widower. It’s cruel but I love my doomed couples. So yeah, I ship it, I really do. I also have a great admiration for Humphrey as I have a soft-heart for scholarly people, I also admire how he was not blindly loyal and quite brazen. It’s a personality that intrigues me.

[glittertomb]

i'm ace too and really struggle with explaining it to potential partners, and get really anxious that men will leave if i don't satisfy their sexual nature while other girls can. how did you get your boyfriend to understand? how do you deal with feeling worried they'll leave? i'm new to all this

It is really worrying, but I try to be upfront with my communication, only do what I feel comfortable with, and pick partners that I know will be understanding.  I’m actually greysexual, so I do have some sexual attraction, it’s just much more subdued than most people, so I have to check in with myself in the moment and be honest about how I feel (aka, am I doing this for the right reasons?).  I have gotten into the situation where I’ve made myself do things when I wasn’t feeling attraction (out of fear of being left), and my current partner could tell and it made them more upset than me just saying no.  Making myself have sex for their pleasure left us both unhappy and it was a major betrayal to my self-worth and well-being.  So just be honest with your partner and yourself, and over time you’ll figure out what you’re okay with.  Maybe you feel comfortable with having sex sometimes, maybe you never want to, and there’s nothing wrong with either way!  

Ultimately, if you never want to have sex, you might be happier with a partner who can relate to your feelings because they’re also ace.  I had a healthy relationship with someone where we started out having sex but then realized that it wasn’t a requirement for either of us, and so we just stopped doing it and had a lot of fun doing all the other things you can in a romantic relationship!  I’ve also had a healthy relationship where we were polyamorous and my very sexual partner could see other people if he wanted to.  Of course, we set down ground rules to ensure my comfort and sexual safety, and constantly checked in with each other to make sure no boundaries were getting crossed or feelings were being hurt.  In the meantime, I was seeing a girl who was completely comfortable with just holding hands and sometimes kissing and doing cute stuff like buying each other flowers, because she already had an active sex life with her main partner.  It was a really happy experience but a lot of work!!  Polyamory is not for everyone, but I really improved my communication skills and reflected upon my insecurities during that time, so it was an amazing growing experience.  If you do some self-exploration, you could find that it’s for you!  But no worries if it isn’t.  You have to strike the right personal balance for yourself and the right partner will understand, and if they don’t, they might not be the right partner.  You deserve comfort and happiness!  ♡♡♡

[thedyingmoon]

🖤 I See My Future Before Me 🖤

~ A V X Reader set in an Alternate Universe wherein you get to listen to cheesy songs of the seventies. 🎶

~ I want to thank everyone who liked and reblogged my V art. This chapter is for you! 🖤

~ And to my friends, @heaven-on-a-landslide , @acieoj , @ehrzeth , @simmy-ships , @lessy86 , @gxthghoulfriend , and @kerlialighieri . 🖤

~ And especially to you, @krazy06 ! 🖤

~ Everything's gonna be just fine. Alright? Let's do this! 🖤

***

XII

***

At last, you were holding onto the discarded mask of a Death Scissor that you've slain as proof that you're worthy to work as Dante's partner. The man just could not be convinced, saying that he worked alone and that he had no plans of hiring an assistant.

But, here you were, determined to the bone to get hired. You really needed Dante. You knew it was very selfish on your part to actually admit it but, you had no other choice.

And so, with a deep breath, you opened the door and,...

... immediately closed it, unable to process what you just saw inside.

You deeply sighed, feeling your confidence leave your body.

Yes, you were very proud of your achievement, and you just couldn't wait to show it to Dante.

But, it seemed that he had different things in mind.

You were about to walk away from the building, not once looking back, when the door suddenly burst open. Out came Dante, who clearly looked both embarrassed and annoyed at the same time. He grabbed your right arm and made you look at him.

"Didn't your mother teach you how to knock?!" he yelled at you, gaining the attention of the people nearby.

You drew back, one eyebrow raised. "Sorry." you sarcastically blurted out. "The sign says you're open for business!" you took your arm off his grasp and rubbed it. "Didn't have the slightest idea that you're open for something else!"

"You - "

"Dante, where are you?! We're not done yet!" came the voice of the woman from within the building, making you cringe.

"I'm sorry for barging in, sir." you went on with your sarcasm, still not able to rinse your eyes off the sight that you witnessed earlier. "I'll just tell Morrison that you were busy and that I covered for you."

"Don't you dare!" warned Dante in a low voice, trying to avoid the prying eyes of his annoying neighbors.

You gave him an evil smirk. An idea just sparked inside your head.

"No, really. It's okay." you pressed on with your act. "I'm sure Morrison would understand."

"Dante!" the woman inside the building playfully whined. The man began sweating nervously.

While it was true that Dante was supposed to be the one who must take on the small Demon - slaying job, it was also true that he declined it, saying that he had better things to do than perform small time requests.

And while it was also true that you volunteered to cover up for him in exchange for your coveted job, it was definitely a lie that Morrison knew anything about your proposition. You just couldn't help but tease the man as revenge for unintentionally stealing what's left of your innocence.

"I must go now." you said to Dante, who couldn't say anything. "I have to talk with Morrison and - "

"Okay, you're hired." Dante announced in a heartbeat, making your eyes widen in surprise.

"Really?" you asked.

"Yes! Yes! You win!" Dante finally surrendered. "You'll be my assistant from now on. On one condition."

"And that is?" you asked him, crossing your arms and fearlessly looking up at him.

"Our relationship would purely be professional. No one would ever belong to anyone. Got it?"

You chuckled at his proposal. "That's it?"

"And you'll wash the dishes, clean the building, answer the phone, pay the - "

"I'm your assistant. Naturally, I'll do those things for you." you cut him off. "Except pay for the bills. You're the boss here, Dante. Not me. And you have the money."

"Yes, yes. Of course." The man nodded in defeat. You smiled and gave him the mask you obtained on your small job.

"Are we good?" Dante asked, still worried about what you might do or say to the Broker.

You winked at him and walked away. "Sure."

***

"My love must be some kind of blind love.

I can't see anyone but you."

You were staring at the Death Scissor mask - like thing that V placed on top of the table for who knows how long, until someone tapped you on the shoulder.

"Hon, we're leaving now." Nico told you, her face looking strangely and uncharacteristically serious.

"Huh?" You mumbled, your head still in the clouds.

"Are the stars out tonight?

I don't know if it's cloudy or bright.

I only have eyes for you, dear."

"Don't worry. We'll be back in a heartbeat." She said as she handed Nero his new breaker. She turned to V, who was sitting on the sofa across you. "We leave her to you, man."

The mysterious one, who changed back to his old clothes of black, leather vest and equally dark pair of cargo pants, nodded, the look on his eyes as serious as ever. "I'll guard her with my life."

Nico nodded, fully trusting V to protect you once more. She turned to Nero and gave him the go signal.

And, with that, they're gone, leaving you alone with V once more.

"The moon may be high,

But I can't see a thing in the sky.

I only have eyes for you.

I don't know if we're in a garden,

Or on a crowded avenue.

You're here and so am I.

Maybe millions of people go by.

And they all disappear from view.

And I only have eyes for you."

The place was really quiet, save for the sound of the radio, which either played an old song from the seventies, or someone else's cheesy request. But, most of the time, some announcer with a sleep - inducing voice would announce the current situation regarding the Demonic infestation, the nationwide evacuation, and, of course, the Dreadnought.

You looked to your right as V went closer towards the passenger's seat to turn up the volume of the radio in curiosity.

"The nationwide evacuation ensues, this time, with the help of the Devil Hunters commissioned by the head of the Fleminger House of Red Grave." The male announcer droned on like an old professor reading an age - old historical text in front of an empty classroom. "With the combined forces of Fleminger's finest warriors and the nation's Military, the Demons, which,..."

V's eyes widened a bit as he heard a soft thud behind him. He turned around and saw you collapsed on the sofa, asleep. He sighed, turned the volume of the radio to the minimum, and went towards you, utterly careful in his steps so as not to wake you up.

All of a sudden, some of the dark markings on his skin vanished as Shadow materialized. She trotted towards you, her lithe body making little to no noise, and sniffed you, seemingly trying to check if you're alright. V noticed this very unprecedented action of his familiar, and was actually not surprised that she approved of you with a curt nod towards him and a subtle squint of her eyes.

"Good girl." V whispered, his voice so low and hoarse that it almost sounded foreign to him.

After much deliberation with his own conflicting thoughts, he took the liberty of taking a seat at the edge of the sofa where you slept and decided to watch you as you dreamed.

In a space of a few moments, he saw you turn, curl your lip, and furrow your eyebrows, which he found really amusing, interesting, and oddly satisfying all at the same time. Your erratic sleeping movements told him that you were, indeed, dreaming, and that your soft voice -

"D - " V heard you mutter. He leaned in closer towards you to hear what you were saying. "D - d - "

D? V thought. Was she dreaming of Dante?

"D - don't,... leave,..." He leaned in a bit closer, if that was even possible, that he was already feeling your warm breath against his face. "S - stay, please. Stay w - with me,...

... V."

His eyes widened, his jaw dropped. V could not quite believe that you just uttered his name! And, what's even more alarming was the fact that his chest almost brushed against yours. His hands were on either side of your head, and your intoxicating scent sent signals down to his very core.

Signals,...

... that were very hard to ignore.

He looked down at your form, which was only covered by the mere coat that he draped over you to protect your modesty, and felt something stirr within his heart.

He knew it was very wrong of him to take advantage of you this way. After all, Nico trusted him to take care of you while she and Nero were away on a little scouting mission outside the mansion.

But, you two were alone. Plus, Griffon was not coming out to make a scene. If he could -

Before his thoughts could further take over his senses to make him totally lose his sanity over you, V pulled away immediately, standing as far away from the sofa, and you, as possible. You deserved his protection, not his lust. How could he call himself a gentleman if he goes like this every time he sets his eyes on you? Or, let alone, inhale your strange, addictive scent?

With a deep, disappointed sigh, he walked away, opening the door of the van and going out to catch some fresh air and calm his senses, leaving Shadow alone with you.

He was about to sit on an abandoned chair near the van to read his book when he felt a pair of sharp eyes directed towards him. He looked up, and there, right outside the smashed window, was the Master of the house, himself. His lips twisted into a strange looking smile as he beckoned for V to come closer.

He turned towards the vehicle. He knew Shadow would protect you should something go wrong once more, and if the situation called for it, he would have no qualms, whatsoever, to summon the golem again.

He looked back towards the vicinity of the smashed window and proceeded there with caution. And when he was finally outside, he found the Master waiting for him at the balcony where he had his very first waltz with you.

"There's no need for caution." The Master began. "The Demons would only come out at night. It's almost dawn."

"And why should I believe you?" V questioned the man.

The Master gave him that strange, twisted smile once more. "Well, let's just say that I know things that most of you don't."

V forcefully tapped his cane against the ground, fighting the urge to summon Griffon, and tipped his head to the side, having no intention to show any sign of fear or weakness.

"You knew for a fact that the Demon originated from the North." V spoke, carefully choosing his words in the face of this very untrustworthy man. "It seems that,... you knew too much,... for your own good."

"Most of the time, I just pray to the gods to bring back the time when I was still a foolish and naïve boy."

V watched with wary eyes how the Master of the house situated himself near the railing, leaning on it and crossing his arms. Despite his bulky figure, the man sure moved with flair.

The Master turned his gaze towards the interior of the wrecked ballroom, directing V's sight.

"Curious thing, this Dreadnought is." The Master quietly said, his words easily hard to miss should one fail to listen carefully. "Rising from the depths of the Underworld, itself, laying waste to everything it laid its eyes upon, then going back to hibernation for a hundred years. Only to wake up once more to wreak havoc in the present."

"What is this Demon?" V questioned, walking closer towards the man and blocking his sight from the vicinity of the van at the same time. "And how do we destroy it?"

"My Lord, are you aware of the tragedy of Fortuna?" Getting no response from V, who only looked at him in suspicion, the Master went on. "A Demon laid waste on a house full of orphans, mutilating them, and sparing no one. Now, despite the assumption that nobody survived that onslaught, my ancestor, my grandmother to be exact, actually lived to tell the tale.

"She moved away from Fortuna, starting a different life here in this city, and forgetting the nightmare that occurred in the past. However, the faces of the helpless orphans haunted her until her last day on this world.

"But, today, it seems that her nightmare has awoken."

"So, it seems." V said in a sarcastic manner that was missed by the Master.

The man smiled and nodded towards the ballroom once more. "I will give you a valuable advice for defeating the Dreadnought." Satisfied that he caught V's attention, he smiled in that twisted way once more and spoke. "You know how some pleasant things send so many different kinds of sensations all throughout the body. I suggest blocking all of them all the same."

The Master of the house left the railing and turned away from V.

"It's best to know what is truth, and what is not."

And with those final words, the man finally left, leaving V with more questions than answers.

***

🖤🖤🖤

[dumpy16]

I was adviced by my Ob-Gyn doctor that i needed to come for induction of labour on the 2nd of August.

The previous Thursday, when I met my doctor and seen the Ultra sound result, he cautiously planned an early labour for me. My baby was met to come out on the 9th of August; inbetween the birthday of mama Emma and Roniel. Well, his arrival decided to come ealier than expected.

On that Sunday, 2/08/20, we arrived at 10am in the morning, introduced to our midwife and explained the procedures for induction of labour. Wandered outside the was forbidden due to the current Covid situation. By 13:30pm, viginal examination commence to proceed for the inducing labour.

A pleasant and lovely student midwife assisted me through the procedure. As well as shared extra knowledge about the process. Comfort and assurance instilled in me as the day goes by.

Alas, we were permitted to wander in the hospital premises though forbidded to walk off outside the hospital.

The rebel I was, pursued my husband to drive us to Asda which was 3minutes drive away. Bought the essential products and extra snack to satisfy my cravings.

Hanged around main entrance while savouring inexpensive ice-cream we bought.

Roniel left shortly after five in the afternoon as visiting times passed over due.

Not too concern of not having contraction yet as I have few other option for it to trigger.

The following day went by really slow. No contraction after 24 hours of waiting so doctor decided to give me a fast acting process the should activate labour within 6 hours at 1pm, 3rd of August.

As the hours gone by, while trying different excercise to help start the labour, I felt helpless. Anxiousness slowly creeps in as the end of 6 hours time lapse approached. Dreading the other options to put me to labour and expecting to have a C-section as my last resort.

By 7pm on 3/08/20, Roniel adviced to leave due to unfinalised plan whether to move me to delivery suite.

Loneliness enveloped me as the sun sets in. The deafening silence empowered my gloomy room as my  hope of his arrival delays more. The only source of my comfort was a peaceful, silent prayer.

Through that night, I occupied my mind by listening to bible study and cheery phone calls from my family; special seeing a jolly smile of my daughter, Ella Mae. Roniel was non-stop on calling in every opportunity he has.

A slight pressure on my private started to occur by 9pm, and continious until the pressure became more intense. Started recording the contraction at 22:38, and came frequently by 3-4mins apart. Decided to inform my midwife about the contraction.

By 23:19pm, the tightening of my uterus became unbearable.

As the contraction occurs, the pain freezes my body as the pain radiates from my stomach down to my limps, making my lower part terribly weak and left my legs tremble like a rotten vegetable. I grasped tightly on the bed rail to gain strength as contraction continues. The pain snatched my breath everytime unless I think of breathing. I tried to control the pain by anticipating it but no avail.

By the time midwife came back, and measure my dilation, I'm already at 8cm.

They prepared the wheelchair for me to go up to delivery suite. Roniel was already at the door waiting for us.

I was taken to my room to start the final labour. The struggle of transferring from chair to bed seems not doable yet managed with the remaining stregth that I have whilst suffering from trembling legs and weakling body.

As I slowly position myself on the bed, I noticed that my midwives were still preparing the monitor to observe our vital signs but my body can not manage to wait for them as the next contraction occured, I started to push the baby out.  With each endless contractions gone, I used the remaining stregth in me to push with all my might thinking, hoping that he will be out soon. Silently begging God to help us through and pleading to my baby to come out soon.

Through the struggle I am faced, I still noticed the effort of my birth partner, Roniel. His simple actions helped me a lot. From lifting my dead weight legs, to helping me to drink, letting me squish his hand and voice of comfort that we can do it.

After 15 minutes of unimaginable and excruciating pushes, from my exhausted mind I heard the midwife saying "The head is almost out. I need you to just have a long deep breaths, no pushing. And when the contraction comes again, give me a big push".

As I am about to give another push, I am told that my water broke and felt the gushing of warm fluid down my private.

For my last few push, the pain ease very slightly as his body slided out of me.

Relief.

Long, exhausting breath I managed to execute knowing the pain I gone.

The midwife hands me my chid and the pain was long forgotten, realized that it was all worth it.

[likestoimagine16]

"I'm not totally useless. I can be used as a bad example." for character/fandom of your choice :3

HI THIS HAS BEEN SITTING HERE FOREVER. But here you go, super roommates AU

Yuuri - or Borealis as he is at the moment, in his dark blue jumpsuit and iridescent mask -  stands on a completely flat roof with no clear points of entry, raises a single, unimpressed eyebrow and asks, “Phichit, why.”

Phichit isn’t sure why he’s asking - he never seems satisfied with the answers. Even now, Borealis’s expression doesn’t change as Shadow Dancer swoons into his arms and asks, “Why is it always ‘why’ with you? A series of questions, stifling an artist’s creativity. It’s unbecoming for one such as yourself, when you should know that artists do not ask if the endeavor is possible - they simply make it so!”

It’s a masterpiece, truly, and Borealis shows no appreciation as he complains, “Okay, Phichit, but that doesn’t explain why we’re here.”

There’s a pause as Yuuri waits for an answer, then he adds, almost as a second thought, “Also I feel like ‘why’ is perfectly legitimate when the question is something like ‘why do the hamsters need a homemade, deluxe encampment when we’re sleep deprived college students stuck in a glorified broom closet’. Or, you know, ‘why are we, at this very moment, on the roof?’”

Phichit tilts his head back, the better to look Yuuri in the eye while still maintaining maximum swoon. It’s not quite as effective as he’d like, since he’s currently wearing his bright red Shadow Dancer mask, but it’ll have to do. “I do not know who this ‘Phichit’ is,” he announces solemnly, “but he sounds like an absolutely delightful roommate with excellent taste in best friends and hamsters.”

Yuuri, instead of appreciating him properly, narrows his eyes. “Okay, then, Shadow Dancer, would you care to tell me why you’re stuck on a roof, completely bereft of shadows to dance in, at high noon?”

“Well, there was a shadow here earlier. The building next to us casts a very nice one at ten in the morning.”

Phichit is the most logical of college students - he has no idea why Yuuri has decided to smack his forehead with his palm. Really.

“What were you doing on an empty rooftop long enough that you lost track of the shadow you came in?”

“It’s a tale of mystique and intrigue, steeped in tension and heartwarming - ”

“How did you get lost?”

“I DON’T KNOW.”

“Why didn’t you just jump back in once you ended up here, anyway?”

“…”

“Phichit no.”

“I might have underestimated how much shadow manipulation I could manage in a 12-hour time frame and played with too many shadow puppets.”

“Phichit!”

“Shadow Dancer,” Phichit says absently, before he continues, “George, Marshmallow, and Harvey needed the play time! I’ve been neglecting them.”

“We literally spent four hours last week building them a deluxe two story cage so that they wouldn’t get bored.”

“But Yu - Borealis, they looked at me with their cute little hamster eyes. How was I supposed to say no?”

“They’re hamsters. Their expressions never change.”

“Are you saying you could resist them?”

Yuuri, very noticeably, doesn’t answer him. He looks away with shifty eyes and the kind of pout that has people stopping in the streets to give him cookies, and his voice takes on a notably petulant cast as he finally mutters, “Well, I’m not the one who got stuck on a rooftop at noon.”

With a grin, Phichit announces, “You might have a point there, but you didn’t deny it, so I still win!”

“Don’t forget that I’m the only one who can get you off this roof at the moment.”

“Please don’t abandon me!” Phichit makes his best hamster face for Yuuri after that. It’s great, since Yuuri’s a sucker for Phichit and also cute things, and thus falls for it every time even when he knows it’s coming.

Sure enough, Yuuri sighs with a wry smile that says he knows exactly what just happened but can’t be bothered to be upset by it. Instead, he just rolls his eyes and says, “Fine, I guess I should probably get you back home or something.”

“Yay! Thank you, oh best friend, light of my life, blessing of my heart!”

“You realize I’m already going to help you, right?”

“It doesn’t make it any less true though, so I get to say it!” Phichit replies cheerfully.

Yuuri, with a slight chuckle, shoves Phichit away from the center of the roof with a huffed, “Okay, okay, I got it - I’m helping.”

After that, he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, stretching out his hands so that he can start refracting light.

In the space of a moment, the bright sunlight starts to bend. It’s almost normal at first, nothing stranger than a light shone through distance glasses, but the shadow slowly gains definition as glowing motes start to drift towards Borealis’s hands.

While this is happening, Borealis opens his eyes and turns to Phichit. There’s a moment when his stare is the slightest bit strange, eyes faintly glowing in a way that can’t be accounted for by just the noontime sun, then Yuuri blinks says, “You realize that you’re going to have to cook for like a week now, right?”

Phichit scoffs, “Please, I’ll cook for a month if it means we don’t have to deal with the cafeteria.”

Yuuri laughs. “I’ll accept that deal. But really, if you could make shadows like you make curry…”

Phichit feels like being a bit of a brat at the moment, now that he’s got a shadow in the making, so he gasps with all the offense he can muster and states, “Are you implying my powers are not amazing? I am offended, how dare you insult your arch enemy this way!”

“Okay, one - you’re my partner, not my arch nemesis. Two, though… I mean, I didn’t say anything, but if I weren’t here, you’d be stuck for at least three more hours. You are kind of useless right now.”

Yuuri’s wearing his troll grin at the moment, so Phichit is kind of obligated to argue. Unfortunately, it’s not exactly like he’s wrong about the whole roof thing, so all he can immediately say is, “Okay, fine, but like. I’m not totally useless.”

At that, Yuuri raises an eyebrow. It’s really unfair, because Yuuri is an actual teddy bear and has no right to look so accidentally, distractingly intimidating, but it’s also doesn’t really matter for the purposes of this discussion, so he just powers through that and says, “I can be a bad example!”

This is, apparently, the wrong thing to say, because Yuuri bops Phichit’s head with a glowing hand, trailing faint glitter, and says, “No, no you can’t.”

When Phichit whines, Yuuri just continues, “You’re a superhero, that is the opposite of a bad example.”

Phichit clutches imaginary pearls to his chest. “We don’t use that kind of language in this household!”

Really, calling him a superhero. It’s an affront to super-villainy everywhere. He is the best super villain, as is only fitting for the grand rival to the best superhero around.

Apparently, Yuuri doesn’t appreciate this, because he just rolls his eyes and turns back to his disc of shadow. It’s a good-sized circle now, large enough for two people and almost inky in the bright light. Certainly, it’s dark enough for Shadow Dancer to pull them through with little effort, so Borealis nods to himself and closes his eyes with a deep breath.

On his exhale, his eyes snap open and his hands close into fists. It doesn’t look like much has happened, but Shadow Dancer sees the tell-tale waver that says Yuuri’s locked his refraction into place. It won’t stay up for more than thirty minutes, since he’s pulled his focus away from it, but that’s all he really needs.

That’s all normal. What’s strange is that Borealis, after all of that, pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously.

It’s deeply suspicious, if only because Yuuri-as-Borealis only uses his phone for superhero business and is also kind of awful at updating his superhero twitter. Because of this, it’s with great trepidation that Phichit asks, “Yu - Borealis. What… what are you doing?”

“Getting answers.”

In short order, Yuuri has a twitter poll set up, asking if Shadow Dancer is a hero or a villain.

Naturally, the first thing Phichit does is open up his Shadow Dancer twitter account to answer that he’s a villain, since it’s literally in his profile.

The rest of the public apparently can’t read, because there’s an overwhelming majority pointing Shadow Dancer towards heroism.

Phichit has been betrayed by his own followers.

“Your followers haven’t believed you were a super-villain since like, your second week on the job. Now hurry up and get us out of here so that I can get back to sleep.”