#like common man you put too much stock in me!

[ultrakatua]

It's funny the one playthrough I give Raphael everything he wants is the one time I'm such a constant jerk to him, I don't think he gave me a cute petname even once. He insulted me a bunch of times though.

I even forced him to retrieve the hammer from camp for me and the way he said "The hammer. You misplaced it." makes me believe it was as humiliating for him as it was for me.

I hope it was 🫶

[jaemlonfz]

seventeen loves when you...

seventeen (separate) x fem! reader

tw: the lowercase letters are intentional, there's the explanation and then pure filth, fucking in the couch, cheating on games, morning sex, s/o jealous, biting, sex in a restaurant, fingerring, sex in the shower, phone dirty talking, fucking on the kitchen, sex with clothes, reverse cowgirl, sex on the yard, cowgirl, naked photo, stocking, fucking thights, high heels, eating pussy, lmk if i forgot something

wc: 3,2k

synopsis: seventeen loves when you do certain things

author's note: i really hope you like it, i didn't review it, the chan part is so small i'm sorry, reblog and like if you enjoyed reading it

seungcheol loves when you dress all in black

It doesn't matter if you're wearing his black shirt and baggy black sweatpants, or a beautiful long black dress with a slit up your leg, or even a black bra with matching panties. seungcheol claims that you look like a different person when you dress all in black, but he never told you that, he likes the suspense of coming home and randomly seeing you all in black, he likes to feel the butterflies in his stomach when he calls you to a romantic dinner and you're going to meet at the restaurant, he looks at the door anxiously wondering if you're going to arrive in the breathtaking black dress he bought. He likes the suspense of when you're making out, when he's about to rip your shirt and see your breasts tied up in a black bra that he bought with this exact occasion in mind.

seungcheol enjoys the anxious suspense and the butterflies in his stomach at the thought of seeing you in black just for him.

-

“fuck” seungcheol grunted. you were making out on the couch when he decided to take off your shirt.

it’s not like you knew you were going to have sex with him today, but you decided to wear the beautiful black bra he bought you a few days ago. “what is it cheol?” you asked seeing your boyfriend's ears turn red and his breath getting heavier. “let me spoil you more” he said kissing your neck “you look so beautiful with my gifts”

jeonghan loves when you pull a prank on him

usually you have to be 100% attentive when around jeonghan, because how much this man likes to prank you is really absurd, but as you're still a bit slow it's very likely that you'll fall for 99% of his pranks.

and since jeonghan knows you'r not the type to joke with people the way he does, he forget to be cautious around you and simply doesn't remember to pay attention to the point where he notices some kind of joke coming up. so when you guys are playing one and you subtly put some cards under your leg, jeonghan didn't even imagine it or even thought about it. so when you won the game and bragged to his face and showing your victory in his face, he saw the cards on the floor and was so surprised

"you cheated?" he said indignantly, and when you nodded and let out a giggle jeonghan almost died

-

“my princess is so beautiful” jeonghan said as he kissed the inside of your thighs with your legs next to your head “I think I’m corrupting your innocence, I never imagined my princess cheating” he smiled at you

“I have to teach you a lesson now”

joshua loves when you wake him up with kisses

kissing is common for a normal couple, and it's common for you and joshua too. feeling your kisses for joshua is like having a dictionary of how you feel, in a week of dating joshua had already started to study your ways of kissing, and now after months he knows how to differentiate precisely what each of your kisses means.

It's as if he made a list with each form of kiss and each meaning, there's the forgiveness kiss, the horny kiss, the goodbye kiss, among other kisses, and he can definitely choose his favorite kiss, the good morning kiss.

joshua states with absolute certainty that your good morning kiss is the best, when you're still sleepy but you know he has to wake up, so you remove the strands of hair from his eyes and his cheek and press kisses on his face until you feel the trembling.

joshua says that this is the best feeling in the world, and that he wouldn't trade it for anything. he hates having to sleep on you for a long time when he needs to, so he does everything he can to avoid it.

joshua likes to feel you on top of him, kissing your face until you see his eyes open, the smile is the first thing he does when he wakes up with you. then he wishes you a good day and kisses your lips like never before. he ridiculously falls even more in love with you every morning he wakes up next to you

-

“shua” you print his name out of your mouth in your morning panting, joshua asked you to wake him up earlier than usual today, and when you woke him up you discovered why.

“I love your kisses in the morning, I love you even more seeing the sunlight on your body” he said on top of you, it was slow and sly sex in the sunlight, you were so sleepy but it was impossible to sleep with joshua on top of you making your morning better and better

junhui loves when you get jealous of him

it's not that junhui rubs himself with other people to see you jealous, most of the time he doesn't even know that he's making you get jealous until he sees your face.

junhui notice that he likes to see you jealous for three reasons:

first, your expression, you set your jaw almost as if you wanted to break your teeth, your gaze darkens and the tension in the air increases and you become more and more hot. second: it's another way for you to affirm that he's yours, that junhui belongs to you, and seeing him around other people makes you so angry just thinking about the likelihood of junhui no longer being yours. and it makes him so fucking hard third: he comforts you, it may seem strange but junhui loves the conversation after your jealousy, he loves convincing you that he belongs to you and that he would never stop belonging, he likes to tell you that

-

“oh my love, you look so cute when you’re jealous” you couldn’t tell if you were being devoured more by junhui’s eyes or by his mouth.

junhui was destroying your cunt, a session of kisses, bites and spit, all in your direction, you were so close to cumming but your pride didn't want to give in so easily

“come on baby, don’t hold back, become mine like i am yours”

soonyoung loves when you bite him

when soonyoung saw that he liked being bitten by you, he was embarrassed. it was like he wanted to hide it from you and pretend like he never noticed it, but you noticed it with him.

after that, every time you cuddled or hugged, you bit him lightly. you bit his arm or his shoulders, sometimes you would even bit his ear just to see him sighing heavily with red cheeks.

you bit him when you was going to tell him a secret, making it impossible for you to get away from him without biting a little piece of his ear, or when he tickled you and to make him stop you would bit his arm, but it wasn't your fault that your boyfriend was someone so “biteable”

-

soonyoung was having the time of his life, he had you fucking in a restaurant bathroom, but it was a shame that you had to keep quiet to never hear your filth, so you bit him to keep quiet.

as soonyoung held your legs in the air like you were an accessorized the wall, you bit his neck to keep you from screaming your dirty thoughts, and that made soonyoung's dick twitch inside you.

you could even feel a weakness in the grip of his hands, he deconstructed himself with your bite and you were never more proud

wonwoo loves when you wear your glasses

glasses bothered you, and it wasn't the model's fault, you've been wearing glasses since you were a child and you've changed frames several times and they all sucked, so you switched to contact lenses when you became a teenager and you never stopped using them. However, there are certain occasions where using a lens can be a lot of work, for example, it's nighttime and you're ready to sleep and you just want to read a message that your boyfriend sent, until you sanitize your hand, put the lens on, then you have to sanitize the lens and store it in the necessary place, this is a waste of time, so in situations like this you use your glasses, and wonwoo just watches.

wonwoo observes how sexy you look in glasses, he observes how the black frames enhance your look and your expressions, he observes all of this in complete silence.

on a specific night, he completely lost his sanity, he was lying on the couch with his head resting on your lap when he decided to show you a video of a kitten that appeared on his Instagram, and you, as a person who doesn't see anything and is super lazy, decided not to go through the lens process and just picked up the glasses that were on the desk next to you. wonwoo saw you fitting the glasses on your face, he saw the glasses sliding down your nose and completely forgot about the video he showed you, which made you smile stupidly. he loved your glasses

-

“you look so beautiful in them” wonwoo said, fucking your soul on the couch. your knee was on your chest as you hugged them to keep your legs up in the air

“my love looks so beautiful with glasses, like a princess” he said, becoming more and more shameless in his thoughts “I’m only going to fuck you now when you wear glasses”

jihoon loves when you understand him without making any questions

even though jihoon was an independent man, he needed to be careful, and you loved helping him. it's not that you pressured him and were on top of him all the time, but you would always be there when he needed you.

jihoon spent weeks in the studio, and during that week there were a few times he would go out to eat something and there were a few times when he would go a day without eating, and when he realized that the next day would be like that he would call you and you would just go.

you would spent the afternoon with him, reminding him to eat, always placing bowls of soup by his side, helping him with music when necessary, or simply keeping him company, and there was nothing that jihoon liked more than your company

-

“you are such a good girlfriend coming to keep me company, feeding me, helping me with everything” he said kissing her belly “of course I have to make it up to you”

he praised you and showered you with kisses while also filling your pussy with his fingers.

jihoon worked magic inside you as thanks, and that was better than any gift you could receive

dokyeom loves when you shower with him

bath is something intimate, it's your moment with yourself. so in the first few months of dating, when you shout at seokmin to join you in the shower he definitely lost his mind, and since then that has become his favorite quote

seokmin loves when whenever you're going to an event together, and even though you're going to get late, you ask him to get into the hot water next to you. he loves kissing you while you rub him with the soap, he loves seeing your smile when he rubs your back, he loves singing along with you while you rinse off together

when he's on a tour in Korea, he takes you to the hotel so you can “evaluate” the shower, but that's just an excuse to see you having fun in the shower with him

- “minnie I miss you so much” you said whimpering next to your phone. at that moment your boyfriend was on a tour in another country. it was still afternoon in korea but seokmin was already getting ready for bed

“baby you should see this bathroom, it’s so good” he said and you could hear the rustle of clothes, he must be changing “you would look so hot showering in this bathroom, I would fuck you so good under it, we should come here to this hotel again some day, but I'm going to eat you in the shower.”

“fuck seokmin”

mingyu loves when you cook for him

mingyu is known in his friend group for being the guy who cooks, the only person who stops in the kitchen and they don't have to worry. so after receiving this title mingyu started cooking, volunteering without saying anything, as if he were the his function, so when he comes home and sees you in your apron fussing over some pot on the stove it's like you've lifted a weight off his shoulders, and he loves you so much for it.

and mingyu isn't relieved just by the fact that he doesn't have to cook, he simply loves his food. he loves the love you put on the meals, he loves seeing you humming some music while serving food on plates. that is something that warms his heart. but what about when you make his favorite food? mingyu is trying to not to ask you to marry him right away.

“baby am I going crazy or did you make my favorite meal?”, he said as soon as he entered the apartment, “of course I made your favorite meal, you deserve it” you smiled ass you saw your boyfriend taking off his shoes to enter the home.

-

“how beautiful can you be making food? did I tell you that you look really hot in that apron?” mingyu spoke as he bent you over the kitchen counter, brushing your entrance

“gyu…” you spoke slyly, your cheeks flushed and your ass red thanks to the slaps you received a few minutes ago

“I didn't know you looked so wonderful while cooking, I think you'll have to do this every day” he said whispering in your ear

minghao loves when you wear miniskirts

it doesn't matter if it's winter or summer, you'll wear miniskirts, and minghao loves it.

minghao loves seeing your legs exposed, whether at home or in public, he doesn't feel jealous or think it's too vulgar for you to leave the house like that, he simply loves it. minghao love when you guys are walking on the sidewalk and there's a strong wind and you have to lower a small amount of fabric that covers your legs. minghao love seeing you dying of embarrassment because you forgot to put a pillow on top of your legs and he could see your wet panties.

minghao loves your miniskirts.

-

minghao love when you sit on top of him, with your pussy fitted onto his dick, he loves watching you ride him and see your skirt sway

“minghao let me take off my skirt” you complained of fabric that bothered you when you shook on minghao’s dick.

“but you look so beautiful with it, I can see your ass so perfectly with it” he said while kissing your neck. “you should use it more often”

seungkwan loves when you watch the sunrise with him

you always loved waking up early to watch the sun rise, and when your relationship with seungkwan began you started sharing this hobby, you both started waking up together to see the wonderful landscape with eachothers company.

seeing the sun rise was like seeing the day begin, and seeing the sun rise with seungkwan was like knowing that you would have another day by your side, and it was a wonderful feeling.

even when far apart, you like to wake up early and take a photo of the sky to share with each other. it was like it was your morning ritual. seungkwan loved seeing you in the sunlight, he loved seeing the reflection of the sun when he looked intensely into your eyes.

at your house there was a backyard where you would lie on the grass and watch the sky together, but there are days when you don't just lie down.

-

you were on top of seungkwan warming him with your hottest part, the sun hadn't come up yet and you planned to wait like every morning with your pajama shirt draped over your shoulder he could see your boob, which he was playing with until now, red and swollen, you could see your purple neck with the marks from the day before, you looked so beautiful being all his, and the beauty it only got bigger when the sun came up behind you.

seungkwan couldn't help it and took a photo, you on top of him in the most beautiful pajama set, your chest exposed and your neck red, your pussy warming him early in the morning and the bright sky behind

vernon loves when you wear high socks

you see that your boyfriend likes your legs in an episode of a show where you and your group wear school clothes, the famous uniform with a shirt, blazer, skirt, a high pair of socks and a pair of black flip-flops. you noticed that vernon liked something about your outfit that day, but didn't know what it was, so we wore it on separate days to see what happened.

you had already discarded the shirt and blazer as they are things you wear very often and vernon frankly sometimes doesn't even notice, so you had the skirt and socks left.

the skirt you wore on a date, you were going to an ice cream shop and this was the perfect opportunity for you to test your theory, but when vernon didn't say anything it really took you by surprise after all it was what you suspected most.

but when you finally put on some random shorts with socks that reached halfway up your thighs you saw it. vernon couldn't look at your face without blushing and stuttering constantly, you barely touched him and you could hear your heart beating faster and faster, that's when you saw that your boyfriend loved seeing a stocking that suffocated your thighs

-

“vernon” you cried out of need, lying on the mattress “please”

“please what, kitten? use your words with me” vernon said sinic smile to you, who was crying beneath him

“fuck my pussy please” your cheek even hotter tha before. vernon was using you now, but not where you wanted him to.

“but your thighs are so beautiful, I have to fuck them” he said rubbing his dick between your legs, it had been at least an hour that vernon had been teasing you and doing nothing but using your thighs.

chan loves when you wear high heels

chan likes absurd high heels. he likes heels that would make him the same height as yours or perhaps smaller.

he doesn't have a specific reason for that, but it's something he loves so much, looking to the side and seeing you without having to lower his head, or maybe even having to look up to appreciate your pretty face.

chan likes to see you above him, it just turns him on, for no particular reason.

chan can feel his body shiver when he looks at your feet and sees them strapped into 10 inches heels.

damn chan loves seeing you tall

-

he loves seeing your feet 10 inches higher in the air while he eats you like no one else.

chan is starved for you on any occasion, but when you wear heels, he lives to see your legs numb in the air while he gives you the head you deserve.

“put those feet in the air while I fuck the life out of you.”

[feroluce]

HOW DID RAPPA AND BOOTHILL END UP BEING SO SWEET???

Before 2.6 even dropped, they were being cute! In Rappa's Keeping Up With Star Rail, Boothill describes Rappa's creations as "high-tech ninjutsu" rather than equipment, or machines, or anything else that someone would have normally defaulted to. This is something Rappa is very proud of and insistent about in her work, and he respects that!

Even with those party join lines, he refers to her not as a Galaxy Ranger, but by her chosen title!

Rappa seems to get a lot of shit for how she talks, too, with people throughout the patch accusing her of playing around or not taking anything seriously. Boothill though is swift to correct that, that even if it sounds like nonsense, Rappa is someone to be respected and a force to be reckoned with. He seems to really admire her resolve, and especially her intellect! He has nothing but praise for her, it's so so sweet.

And the way she talks about him, too! Like there are. A lot of things you can say about a man like Boothill fjkdlsajk but she always speaks so admirably of him?

There's also the difference in nicknames- Rappa refers to every other person as "Ninja." And most of them are descriptions that you can pick up at a glance, or without knowing a person too deeply. Singer for Robin is obvious, everyone knows who she is. Gama for Reca means "toad," which is a reference to the assistant director he always has with him. Baseball Bat for the trailblazer is also obvious. Ruri for March 7th means "lapis lazuli" which is probably a reference to her Six Phase Ice, or even her appearance since she looks like if a Stellar Jade became human. Hiryu for Dan Heng is actually "flying dragon" but it's also a famous video game reference so I'm only willing to put so much stock into that one fjkdsjakd and besides, she could have easily heard about March 7th and Dan Heng from Boothill, since he talks about the dango trio to Rappa, too.

But Boothill! Rappa refers to Boothill as "Silvergun Shura," with Shura being a reference to Asura, a demigod of war. It's a name used to describe someone fighting a relentless, inhumane war and desperately seeking victory. It also refers to a level of hell, governed by anger and pain. Both interpretations suit him strongly. It's not really a title you could give just looking at someone. It's something you'd have to know them at least a little more deeply for.

Boothill also very distinctly lacks the common ninja title- instead, in the EN translation, Rappa calls him Lord. It's a highly respectable title even in the original Chinese, apparently akin to addressing reigning royalty.

She just. Seems to respect and admire him so much? It's so so sweet?

And despite how often it's stated that Galaxy Rangers tend to work and travel alone, it seems these two are at least fairly familiar with each other, which makes me really happy! In an instance of beautiful timing, just today Hoyo released a new text convo, and! When she wants someone to hang out with, Boothill was one of the first people Rappa thought of!

Rappa knew Dan Heng because Boothill talked about him. She knew about Clockwork. Boothill has spoken with her often enough and long enough to know how deeply her hatred ran, and to be upset for her when Primon got away.

They both speak so positively of each other, even when one is out of of earshot. They openly show a ton of respect and admiration for one another, and the way they talk about each other is more than just two people who happen to be part of the same faction. They know each other more closely than that. Boothill is only in Penacony at all because of Rappa, and Rappa trusted Boothill enough to seek him out for this.

My favorite, though? The part I considered the cutest?

Rappa literally went all the way to the Luofu just to watch Boothill fight in the Luminary Wardance.

[wildshona]

Samhain Sacrifice

Sorry this is a long one.

So, yesterday I got up in a sort of Goth dress and stockings and went to a party, having made myself look nice and pale. Btw the dress came down to my knees so no naughty stocking tops. I knew theer would be kids at the first part of the party.

So Chris and i arrived at about 6 and the party had been goin on for about an hour already. It was at Toni’s – yes, I know, I wanted that just like my followers no doubt too – anyway there was a marquee in her garden . i think i’ve said that she has a fuck off big house next to the common. Anyway, there were jugglers and fire eaters and a punch and judy show and all sorts of Victorian hucksters and games and a fortune teller who told me that there would be many men and women in my life. Good to know huh, keep hoping you folk. Anyway the kids who were all dressed up in Halloween costumes and looking cutely scary were having a great time and the grown ups were too and drinking in moderation cos there were kids there. Oh and food was kid type food – hot dogs and burgers and inedible stuff for vegans.

Anyway the kids part of the party ended at 9 and the vanilla folk went home and the party could start tho there wasn’t any sign that this was going to be a sex party. Sure some of the new arrivals were dressed in dead cheerleader or dead sexy schoolgirl outfits and there was  lot of leather and pvc about but nothing that shouted time to fuck. So there was drinking and dancing and a bit more food and god i haven’t mentioned Toni.

She was doing gracious hostess dressed in this long white gown that was really clingy. I mean really clingy. Fucking obvious theer was no underwear under there.

Anyway there was a big cheer when a gong sounded at 10 and it was announced that Samhain had begun and then things carried on. Then a pair of arms came round my waist from behind and a voice whispered

Do you trust me Shona? It was Toni

Yes

Will you do anything i ask of you tonight?

Fucking yes – well actually i just said yes and i could feel my nipples go hard against my corset bodice.

About quarter past eleven Chris came up to me – we don’t stick together much at parties unless we’re fucking – Toni says follow me. OK then. So i follow Chris and there are people changing out of their party gear and putting on black robes like you see in horror films – complete with the hoods three women, two men and Chris made a third. I had a white one. I was expected to dress down to nothing and put it on – well everyones was doing the same and im not exactly shy and im wondering whats going to happen very aware of my hard tits and my wet cunt.

Anyway at eleven forty forty i guess a gong sounds and we process from where we heve changed int the marquee where everyone applauds and parts and ive got a man and woman in front of me and to my side and behind me – Chris is behimd me. Then we go from the marquee into the reception hall and then into what I know is the diningroom except everything has been taken out except the table which has a heavy red cover over it and there are candles everywhere.

And there is Toni thick black hair loose, her lips bright red, her eyes highlighted in purple and black and her robe is scarlet and clingy

I feel Chris behind me unslip the catch on my robe and pulls i off my shoulders to the floor and i am naked and if my nipples got any harder i could stab someone to death with them. Naked in front of Toni and oh yeah all the party guests who have crowded into the dining room.

I’m helped up to lie down face up on the table. And a short sword or long knife take your pick is rested on my body with the hilt between my tits, the crossguard under my tits and the blade pointing down to my cunt. Toni says something in a language i don’t knoe – not latin cos though i never learnt latin I can recognise it. One of the acolytes i suppose u call them gave her a goblet to drink out of and she did and gave it back. Then she put something on my lips an ointment of some sort and it made my lips warm and sensitive, then on my nipples fucking hell that felt so good and then on my clit and my cunt lips – fucking hell i was suddenly warm and i was breathing heavy and shaking a little.

She took the sword/knife off my shaking body and handed it to an acolyte. Then she leaned forward and kissed me full on the lips. She was holding my hands at my side so that i couldn’t move. She probably only kissed me for a few seconds but it seemed like forever. Then she stood up and took my nipples between her fingers. Who the fuck was moaning like that – ah, me. Just a gentle tweak and i was shaking and my breathing was coming really fast. Then she touched my clit and stroke my cunt – just one stroke and the orgasm came from nowhere and i was shaking like i was having an epileptic fit and the orgasm cam in wave after wave and three of the acolytes held me down – they were standing on the side where Toni was so the party could still see what was going on - and the orgasm went on and on and on and i was almost – no i really was screaming with pleasure and fucking LUST.

Finally i started to subside. Toni kissed me again and swept out of a door opposite the one we had all come through. The acolytes help me off the table and put another robe round me – not the one from earlier – it was white like the other but almost transparent and didn’t join at the front so my cunt was in full view.

It was gone midnight now and the party carried in til 2. The acolytes had disappeared. Chris told me later that Toni had paired three couples, including him, and they were all sent off to a bedroom each to fuck. There are 8 bedrooms in the house apparently. So I wandered around the party where it seemed everyone had the right to kiss me and touch me though not to do more. Toni had changed into another robe – purple this time and wore a gold circlet on her head – god i am so in love with that woman.

Chris came to take me away eventually. Toni gave me a long lingering kiss as I left.

I can tell you that as soon as we were home i jumped on Chris and fucked and fucked him until we both fell asleep. I dreamed of Toni.   

[draculasfavoritewife]

Hunted

Summary: Tatooine is a planet filled with old ghosts, and when one of yours rears its ugly head again, your Mandalorian takes matters into his own capable hands.

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence and minor OC death at the end. Allusions to hunter/prey roleplay and bondage, my voice kink makes a couple of cameo appearances. I the writer was particularly thirsty for Din Djarin the day I wrote this and thus take full responsibility for the results.

This is really one of the most blatantly self-indulgent things I've written, born of many long daydreaming sessions and my love for any episode where my man rubs elbows with the delightful and despicable denizens of the OG desert planet. I truly can't explain it, Tatooine Din™️ just hits me different, so please enjoy this very long fic about it.

*Translations of less common words/phrases in Mando'a at the end

You step into the crowded main street of the city, taking a moment to let all of your senses adjust to the stark difference. The last week or so has been spent on the ship in a cold vacuum, the gleaming blur of hyperspace and the steady thrum of engines a constant gentle halo in the background. It was nice, if a little quiet for your personal taste. Your partner certainly doesn’t talk much, and you tend to spend much of your time alone with him less conversationally inclined as a result.

He’s rubbed off on you that way. 

Now the twin suns of Tatooine scorch down on you from above, making eyes that have become accustomed to soft darkness sting. A throng of street vendors, lowlifes, and ne’er-do-wells streams through the ragtag market on all sides, moving bodies chattering nonstop in floods of Basic, Huttese, Aqualish, Droid, and snatches of more exotic tongues. 

A moment, and you feel yourself suddenly at ease again, as your brain resets back to your old lifestyle in the Core Worlds. It feels like putting on a well-loved shaak-leather coat that remembers all your contours just right. 

“You look happy,” the Mandalorian observes from beside you. 

You always wonder about him, how he's actually faring under that helmet, so shiny in this harsh light that you come away with spots in your vision after glancing at him too long. Din walks with the easy confidence of a man that’s walked these alleys many times before, but you know him more personally than most. He’s a quiet man under that shell, one who vastly prefers his solitude and finds the company of most beings in the galaxy a soul-stealing chore after two minutes. 

And unlike you, he never relaxes. 

“I am.” You side-eye him, briefly admiring his prowling stride as he diligently scans the moving figures surrounding the pair of you. “Sometimes I really like big crowds.” 

“You’re crazy,” he remarks. “This many people add too many variables.” 

“Your comment stands.” You draw closer to him in order to reach into the satchel slung across his body and ruffle the Kid’s long ears. “But to me, it’s almost easier. I can usually read people’s intentions pretty well. Bodies speak louder in crowds.” 

“I suppose.” He hasn’t stopped his surveillance yet. You can guess at how his eyes are darting here and there beneath the visor. He probably has at least two escape routes planned out already, if not more. 

You want nothing more than to tell him to relax and enjoy himself — you’re not even here on hunter business, simply to refuel and stock up on supplies before your next run — but you know that’s a useless endeavor. 

“I found that strangely hot, by the way,” you say instead, since it HAS been taking up space in your mind for some time. 

“What?” 

“Finding out you speak Tusken. That’s VERY attractive.” 

It was. When he had to negotiate with the scouts on your way into town, you couldn’t deny the fluttering in your stomach at hearing his low, smoky voice bark out the harsh sounds as he supplemented his meaning with crisp sign language. 

And besides the sound of it, you certainly find it very hot for a man of his stature to be so willing and ready to communicate and settle fraught situations peacefully. 

“I — what — I don’t — ?” 

It still makes you grin, how easily flustered he is when you catch him off-guard with flirting. 

“Don’t you think so, Grogu?” You poke the Kid’s tiny nose. “Isn’t it attractive when your buir talks like that?” 

The little one squeals enthusiastically in response, probably more to your teasing than the actual question. 

“Stop that, don’t encourage her.” Din casts a disapproving look first at the Kid and then at you; it strikes you as funny how well you can translate such a simple tilt of the helmet. “And don’t you ask him that, he’s just a kid.” 

“I think you’re blushing under that bucket,” you smirk, sidling away. 

“I’m not.” 

You subside with the teasing for the time being, and the Mandalorian releases a sigh of relief as you start wandering, letting handmade jewelry and stoneware snatch your attention away from him. He’s getting better at keeping up with your rapid changes of interest, but somehow your more romantic moods still manage to get the better of him when you’re out in public. 

He blames the environment. When it’s just the two of you alone, he can see what’s coming in the slant of your lips or the way you suddenly decide to plant yourself right in front of whatever he’s working on. And he’s almost as likely to initiate now, so long as the Kid’s not in the same room. But out here, as his field of vision constantly shifts in the sea of bodies, and his right hand drifts between Grogu in his satchel and the pistol at his hip, he just doesn’t possess the bandwidth to also process what the kriff could possibly turn you on so much about his language skills. 

He tucks that particular piece of information away in a metaphorical corner, to dissect and possibly use at a later time. 

You return to him after your little side trip, flirtation seemingly forgotten for now. “I saw a ring at that one booth —” you gesture over your shoulder “— that I’m almost positive is dolovite. So pretty. I’m not even sure the vendor knows what he’s got. It’s tempting.” 

“I bet.” He notes the tone of your voice, the way you glance back one more time as the pair of you move on. 

“But we are here for the essentials, first and foremost. Maybe if it’s still there by the end of the day.” 

He nods thoughtfully, and listens as you ramble through the list of what the three of you need, both in terms of provisions and to keep the ship flying. 

The sooner you’re all able to leave this crowd and noise behind, the better. 

He doesn’t care for the feeling that his little clan’s safety isn’t completely under his control. 

Hours later, stewardship of the satchel carrying the Kid has passed over to you. Din carries the day’s purchases, slung from either end of the pole balanced across his wide shoulders. He watches affectionately from behind his immobile visage of beskar at the sight of you spiritedly haggling with a Twi’lek vendor over the price of fruit. The arm not being used to illustrate your point cradles Grogu, half-asleep, close to your torso, and it touches something deep inside him, to see you care for his foundling so naturally. 

The image almost — almost — lulls him into something resembling a dangerous sense of peace.

Almost, but not quite. 

Which is why, when the blaster bolt narrowly misses your shoulder and instead blows a crate of produce into a violently sticky explosion, he’s only a half-second slower than he normally would be as he pivots sharply and yanks out his own weapon. His shot drops the sniper leaning out of a second-story window across the street, a Rodian crumpling to the ground in a tangle of ragged cloak. 

His armor-clad body is positioned in front of you in another second, keeping you and the Kid sandwiched between the booth and his beskar as he rapidly searches for any more guns to rear their ugly muzzles. 

The market has dissolved into chaos around you, but no more fire is heard. 

You slip your DL-44 out of your back holster with one hand and push the satchel carrying Grogu further out of the way with the other. The road had cleared in seconds, the trembling fruit vendor ducking down behind his wares. The atmosphere is suddenly quiet, too many people holding their breaths all at once. 

“See anything?” you whisper to Din. 

“Negative,” he mutters back. “He was acting alone, or else the others have retreated. Looking for heat signatures is useless, they’re everywhere here.” 

A grim suspicion starts to rise in your chest, but you keep your voice removed as you step from behind him and give him a sharp nod. “Cover me? I need to take a look at our shooter.” 

He stalks behind you as you cross, your trigger finger settling into its well-worn spot in readiness. Grogu is silent; only the tips of his giant ears poke up from the top of the bag. 

For a kid, he’s been in enough firefights to know the drill by now. 

Arriving beside the smoking form of the Rodian, you flip him over and push aside the cloak, your hand drawing back when you see exactly what you were afraid you would find. 

The sigil of a sand ape emblazoned on his jacket in red. 

“Talk to me,” Din urges, voice tight. “Do you know why he was targeting you?” 

You straighten up and bite your lip for a second, struggling over the best way to break the news to him. You’d thought it was long enough ago that old scores would be forgotten, but on Tatooine, grudges rarely die, instead simmering deep beneath the filth like a krayt dragon awaiting its next meal. 

And now you’ve unwittingly brought your riduur and his ad’ika into danger. 

“I lived in Mos Eisley for a bit at one point.” You sigh. “And I left under…difficult circumstances. I’m a bit of a loose end as far as a local gang is concerned, Din. They paid well for some mercenary jobs — it was a nice temporary setup. Last hit I was hired for turned out to have a Guild bounty on him though, and they paid more to have him delivered alive. I saw a business opportunity and didn’t look back. But I made some powerful people here pretty angry.” 

“Dank farrik.” He curses under his breath. You can nearly hear his exasperated thoughts — can’t I have ONE uneventful outing? Just ONE? — but he shakes it off swiftly and is soon all business again, his next query clipped and brusque. “Does he have a tracking fob?” 

You shake your head. “They don’t want Guild here anymore, if you recall. No, it’ll be a more intimate affair, I’d bet my blades on that. This is about revenge and closure; if there’s a reward payout it’s from the boss man himself, and probably only advertised by word of mouth.” 

The Mandalorian refocuses his thoughts from where they ever so briefly derailed at your casual misuse of the term “intimate affair” and grunts his acknowledgment. “I gather the boss man wants you alive, then?” 

You laugh, a dry, ironic sound. “Oh, he will. I have a feeling he wants to watch me suffer a bit before he kills me. Or who knows?” With a shrug, you shove the body into an alleyway and return to where you both left your purchases, only the dance of your tense fingers across the grip of your blaster giving away your readiness to protect yourself. “Maybe he’ll make me his own personal slave instead. I knew all that club dancing I did would come in handy someday.” 

Din makes a hissing sound of annoyance at your flippant tongue as he follows. There’s something about the way you can talk so carelessly about such degrading fates that truly distresses him. He knows you don’t need his protection on the same level the Kid does, but the thought of either of those options actually befalling you under his watch makes his hands clench into fists, leather gloves protesting as they stretch across his knuckles. But he knows too, that dark humor is often your way of dealing with stress, so he endeavors to let it slide and not see red. 

“Do you know where he is?” he demands suddenly. 

“The boss man? I used to. And there are people I could ask.” You take the satchel with the Kid off and hand it back to him, opting to take the parcels instead. He can fight with a baby strapped to him better than you can, and knowing you’re the primary target this time, you’d rather keep him safer. “Why?” 

“Later.” His voice has gone tense again, he must have seen something you don’t. “Right now we have to get out of here. You’re too exposed.” 

Your gaze falls on a nearby speeder bike with no obvious owner nearby. “They’ve gotten lax without me around,” you smirk, straddling the bike and revving its powerful engine. “Leaving their valuables all helpless and unattended. It’s a real shame.” 

The Mandalorian is staring at you, the drop of his shoulders suggesting surprise at your brazenness. 

“Get on,” you encourage him, laying the carrying pole across the seat behind you. “You’re getting twitchy, so there must be trouble. What’s got your cape in a twist?” 

He takes a seat behind you and settles his pulse rifle across his knees. “There’s a couple more in similar jackets closing in,” he reveals in an undertone. “And I just haven’t seen you…steal a vehicle before, is all.” 

A shot pings over his helmet before you can properly react to that. 

“Drive!” he orders, pivoting to return fire. 

You oblige, gunning the motor and tearing off down the main thoroughfare. “There’s still a few things you haven’t seen me do, Cyare,” you toss back as he dusts one of the gang members on your way past. “You and the Kid made me go soft.” 

He huffs doubtfully and nods to a narrow opening between buildings up ahead. “Can you get us out of sight?” 

“If you hang on tight enough.” You execute a tight turn at the last moment and shoot down the alley, glad the bike is compact enough to follow the cramped tunnel between the crumbling dwellings. “It’s gonna be rough ’til we’re in the open, though.” 

Din doesn’t answer in words, but his free arm wraps around your waist and you can feel the Kid’s small body tucked between the two of you. 

And it’s almost an oddly pleasant feeling, outrunning any would-be pursuers with the two of them held so close. 

By the end of the hour, supplies have been loaded into the ship and Grogu has been left in the doting care of Peli, who as always is more than happy to entertain the little guy as long as you and Din keep trouble far away from her repair station. You and the Mandalorian are now camped out on a rooftop overlooking the marketplace, a tattered fabric canopy mercifully providing some scant relief from the sunlight if not the oppressive heat. As always, your riduur appears totally indifferent to such a thing as physical discomfort, leaning out from under the awning to scope the street below through the sight of his rifle. 

Does his armor have an internal cooling system? Or are Mandalorians really just that tough? 

“You know, we could just leave,” you finally suggest. “It’s not like this particular group ever goes off-world.” 

“We could.” 

You can tell there’s a reason why he won’t. 

“But I return to Tatooine semi-frequently. And I don’t want you to constantly be looking over your shoulder every time.” 

You sit back with a sigh, idly tuning up your blaster. His ways are still foreign to you sometimes. Before your partnership, you made a life depending on adaptability and quick thinking. Having only yourself to worry about, and knowing there was no one else out there worrying about you, made it easier to simply uproot and go elsewhere whenever the heat was on you. 

Din is nearly the opposite. If there’s a way he can make things more secure for those in his care, if there’s a good enough reason, he won’t ever back down from a struggle.

He already has his mind made up. 

It’s just a bit jarring to realize that you’re the good enough reason this time. 

“What are you thinking, then?” you prompt. 

He doesn’t break his focus on the area below as he answers. “I’m thinking I just killed a couple gang members and got some interesting information out of them. I’m ex-Guild and looking for work, and being a ruthless mercenary, I might just be willing to turn on a crew member if the price is right.” 

You can’t help your sudden intake of breath at his ingenious plan. “And once we get there?” 

He finally turns to face you, his next words cold and hard as tempered beskar. “Then we kill him.” 

And there’s something a little bit more menacing in there than simple pragmatism. He has taken on the role of cabur for you and the Kid; this isn’t just about keeping trouble off your backs in future. 

Someone has threatened you, and he will not rest until that threat has been put down.

That is his duty, and he will not shirk it. 

“I love you,” you murmur, barely above the hot breeze that rakes through your hair. 

He rises to his feet, shoulders his rifle. “And I you. Which is why we’re going to have to make this look convincing. You get a two-minute head start. Whenever you’re ready.” 

You swipe a dull sand-colored cloak from a stall as you pass, immediately diving into the heart of the throng, which seems to have recovered from the earlier incident. Mos Eisley is nothing if not desensitized to crime and violence, and for a moment, you almost lose yourself in awe at the apathy of the average citizen as you let the flow of movement carry you along. Nobody cares what happens around here, so long as it doesn’t happen to them. 

It’s…odd, to remember how it felt to think that way. 

Shaking yourself back into the moment, you weave between beings of all shapes and sizes, focusing on making yourself forgettable and not appearing in too much of a hurry. You know Din will find you no matter where you end up — he’s just too good at his job not to. So for the moment you let yourself enjoy this little game, a moment spent as the quarry of a very desirable predator. 

It would be a lie to say you haven’t fantasized about this before. 

A ripple passes through the crowd to your left and behind you, people shifting to make room, like river currents split by a large stone. Only one person you know could possibly cause such a stir.

Only idiots choose to stand in the way of a hunting Mandalorian. 

Which means he’s here. 

Your heart accelerates and you try to think of a way to stall him just a little longer. Reluctantly pulling a few credits from your belt pouch, you regretfully let them scatter in the dust, knowing the only thing that reliably beats fear is greed. The people nearest to you devolve into pushing and shoving in their eagerness to get their hands on them, a writhing wall springing up between you and your pursuer. 

With a grin, you slip backwards, drifting in the opposite direction of where you had been headed before, catching the barest glimpse of sun glaring off metal as you pass. 

That's a little longer. 

He’ll expect you to be thinking the way he thinks, not the way you do, so you stamp down the inclination to think that way and instead travel into a seedier part of town, seeking out more raucous company. Wandering through cantinas and gambling dens, you pick up a refreshing blue milk along the way and almost start to let the tension ebb from your muscles. But when you see him emerge from the street and gaze through the window of the same building you were just about to exit, your adrenaline shoots up again. A dash through a maze of alleys and one stolen ride on the back of a droid rickshaw later, and even you aren’t so sure what part of the city you’ve made it to. 

The twin suns are finally beginning to sink lower in the sky as you thoughtfully chew on a piece of bantha jerky and walk through a crowded residential section, no doubt where the lower classes live. It’s much quieter here, the low-income strata not having the credits to spend on frivolities at the market. 

It’s almost…too quiet. 

You hear him before you see him, an almost deceptively musical clink of the explosive charges on his belt against his vambrace as his arm brushes past. There’s nowhere to run anymore, so you pull back your hood with an admittedly dramatic flourish and discard your savory treat, hands sliding to the twin vibroblades sheathed at your thighs. 

“So, its finally come to this, Mando.” You pull your knives and take up a fighting stance. “No use in trying to sweet-talk you out of this, is there?” 

He doesn’t answer, just pulls his own blade and gestures with his chin as if saying “Try me”. 

So you do. 

The pair of you has sparred many times before, and this altercation is brief but outwardly brutal. Finesse is nice, but necessity calls for any potential advantage to be pressed and pressed hard. For the agility your much lighter choice of clothing grants you, you can’t dent him when fully armored, so finally you resort to simple but effective tactics and throw dust in his face. 

Even a visor with a heat sensor takes a second to recalibrate from that. 

You do, however, have a scripted ending for this outing, and as you sprint off, his grappling cable snakes around your hips and down your legs, dropping you in the sand. He strides up to you, tosses a pair of binders down next to you. 

“Cuff yourself,” he orders, breath coming in heavy pants after your scuffle. “I’m taking you in.” 

And since it’s him who just captured you, who would have captured you eventually no matter what because he’s just THAT good, you don’t mind. 

No, you reflect as he hefts you over his shoulder and walks away from the few scattered spectators your fight drew out, you really don’t mind this arrangement at all. 

Maybe you’ll have to tell him that, later. 

Your former employer’s headquarters are still where you remember them, and you almost smirk at the sense of uncomfortable familiarity when Din lowers you to the floor and unties your legs. Still cuffed — and a bit tired after spending the afternoon trying to outwit the best hunter in the parsec — it’s not difficult to look angry and beaten down, kneeling there in the dust. 

The boss man rises from his seat at the table, a hulking Devaronian with a chipped horn and a hungry grimace. He swaggers over, nods at the Mandalorian standing behind you. 

“I suppose I can turn a blind eye at the loss of a few good men for this. You have absolutely no idea how this one little troublesome scavenger has been occupying my thoughts.” 

Din remains silent, simply holding out a hand, a wordless demand for payment. 

Your old boss grins, nods to a couple of lackeys to bring over the credits, hauls you to your feet by the back of your shirt. 

The Mandalorian’s hand brushes past your leg as you move, and one of your knives is quietly returned to its sheath. 

“Since you turned tail and ran so quickly after disobeying me, I assume you have some idea of what I do to clever little turncoats, don’t you?” sneers the Devaronian, leaning altogether too close for your liking. 

Your cuffed hands lower in seeming fear as you shrink beneath his intimidating glare. 

“This is going to be fun,” he threatens, a hand drawing up your neck and along your jaw. “You need to learn some respect, and I’m going to —” 

The vibroblade sunk deep into his chest cuts his words off rather suddenly. 

There’s a lot you can still do, even in binders. 

The outraged lackeys are swiftly dropped by precise shots from Din, and the two of you are left gazing at each other in a now oddly quiet room. 

“I don’t know if I’d call that ‘fun’," you remark to your limp ex-boss, crouching to retrieve your knife. “A little anticlimactic, actually. Bit of a shame I had to do that. But also satisfying to see your plan turn out so well, don’t you think, Mando?” 

Din doesn’t answer right away, tucking away the bounty that he earned by catching you. “We should be on our way,” is what he finally grunts. “There’ll be more gang members swarming this place any minute now.” 

“I agree.” Rising to stand in front of him, you hold out your arms expectantly, casting a flirty smile up at his dark visor. “And, much as I enjoyed being your prisoner for a day, you can let me go now.” 

There’s a long pause. 

He stares down at your bound wrists, up at your face, down at your wrists again. He appears to be pondering something very intently, and your breath turns a little choppy for some reason. 

“I don’t think I will,” he says simply, after a little more consideration. 

“You won’t?” 

“Not yet.” His large hands tenderly find your hips, and he throws you over his shoulder again, walking out the exact same way you came in. “You’ve caused me quite a day here, you know. Keeping track of you like this might be the only way to make sure we don’t run into any more trouble.” 

“What would happen if I screamed ‘Help, I’m being kidnapped!’ as you carry me down the street?” 

He snorts. “No one’s going to help you here, Cyar’ika. Who’s going to challenge a Mandalorian over his prisoner?” 

You smirk. “No one in their right mind.” 

“Besides, you just said you enjoyed this.” There it is, a sly edge to his filtered voice, the indicator that he has more going on in his mind than simply staying out of more trouble. 

“Oh no, caught by an attractive bounty hunter! I’ll probably never see the light of day again.” You groan dramatically and drape yourself a bit more comfortably as he loosens up into an easier stride. “I’m completely at his mercy — who KNOWS what devious things he’ll do to me behind closed doors?” 

“This bounty hunter is hot and tired, and in need of a shower, if that gives you any consolation.” 

“Ah.” You poke him in the back. “Are you saying you’re all sweaty under this shiny shell, Cyare?” 

A hand slides up the back of your thigh, a subtle reminder that you ARE currently at his mercy, as you just said. 

Undeterred, you try again, knowing he must be getting more riled up than he lets on. “Have I ever told you how much I like it, when you take all these awful layers off for me and you’re all sweaty underneath…?” 

“I would rein in my suggestive tongue a little, if I were you.” He’s still looking straight ahead, but the edge beneath his words is a bit more strained now. “If you behave for me until we get back to the ship, maybe I’ll even take those binders off.” 

“And if I don’t?” 

He sighs. “My belt compartment back there. Take a look.” 

You manage to get it open, and can’t quite stifle a delighted sound as you pull out the dolovite ring from much earlier. “You sneaky son of a — ! How — ?” 

“I gave you a two-minute head start,” he shrugs, by way of explanation. 

“I adore you,” you inform him as you slip the ring onto your finger, admiring its burnished color. “I’ll be a good little prisoner for you, Mando, I promise. And who knows…,” you nudge him again. “Maybe I’ll let you keep these binders on me after all, since you’ve been so good to me today.” 

He can’t find anything to say to that, but by the fact that you can see the flush creeping up the back of his neck in that tantalizing gap between cowl and helmet, you know he’s definitely sweating now, if he weren’t before. 

“Is my big bad bounty hunter at a loss for words?” you tease softly. 

He clears his throat. “Just saving my voice, Mesh’la. If you’re REALLY well-behaved, I might — possibly — be persuaded to talk Tusken to you later. Possibly.” 

The idea takes a moment to fully crystallize in your brain; Din, and a shower, and binders, and if you just stop teasing him so naughtily in public he might actually bring that unreasonably provocative language into the bedroom? 

You finally let yourself relax into his hold, and after a bit you hear his breathy sigh of relief that you aren’t going to keep tormenting him anymore for the moment. 

After all, he has put forth an offer you can’t refuse. 

Ad'ika = Little One/Small child

Cabur = Protector

[wereallydobevibing]

Oh, to Find Love in Russia | Konig x Reader

I used to post my stories on tiktok under the username @codlover but I figured since tiktok might get banned I should delete that account and post it here. Here’s one of the stories.

Feel free to use my work as a prompt/inspiration. Better yet, feel free to write your own ideal part 2 just MAKE SURE YOU CREDIT AND TAG ME.

WARNINGS: Mentions of injury, specifically written for my delulu girlies💕

The ice, cold air of a wintery Russia rushed through your body like death through Pompeii. With your lips an ungodly shade of purple and your fingers feeling so stupidly numb, you follow the public map displayed on the side of the nearest building to meet a short term comrade in a common tourist area.

It took you some time, having never been to Russia before, but you eventually find yourself walking alongside a very large man who names himself König. He leads you away from the tourist path and into a market area where you both enter a less than busy bar. You agree you’ll talk here, where it was warm and your shivering didn’t hinder your ability to speak.

The next two hours was a conversation of confirming your roles here and the goals that were set to be accomplished – you both were sent to gain intel, but König’s main focus was to serve as your armor, and gaining intel was especially assigned to you, dear reader.

You were not a special forces operator because you were big and strong, or because you had a particular set of skills pertaining to combat at all. Your task-force had elected you to become one of it’s soldiers because you were a holder of intelligence – you were the brain, and everyone else was the body.

Your skills lied in your ability to speak and understand a multitude of languages. Your looks and personality made you attractive to others both romantically or otherwise – people couldn’t help but make themselves known to you. You were good at making them feel so special that it hurt too much to not spill all their flavors into your cup.

Blackbird, they called you; a symbol of beauty and intelligence. You were your team’s little warbler – whatever they needed to know, you were sent to find out, and you always came back chirping your sweet song of intel.

König was quite taken by you from the very start – he’d never met a woman in his field that carried herself with such grace. Overtime, many women in special forces became much like their male colleagues; rough around the edges, heavily drinking and/or smoking, cursing like wounded sailors.

You? You were so clean. Not a single profanity fell from your glossed lips, your voice was smoother than the finest of silk velvets. Your eyes are still warm with the hope of a better world and twinkled with the gentle promise of eternal youth.

Granted, you were still rather fresh in age being in your early 20s. Still, you were special.

As you both got familiar with each other over the next few hours, König grew firmer in his belief that the radiance of your skin was actually your golden soul shining through your pores.

The safe house you’d both been given had been put together at the last minute. A fact that was clear by how it was a small cabin with only a couch in the living room and one bed in the bedroom, certainly not prepared for two. The kitchen was stocked with little snacks and such, but if either of you ever got the taste for a real meal, you’d have to eat out or go grocery shopping.

König was quick to offer you the only room, as you were a lady deserving of privacy.

Over the course of two weeks, you took turns cooking and choosing restaurants. But by week three, you’d become so focused on your task of manipulating a Captain in the Russian anti-group that you’d end up spending every free moment of your day at the desk, documenting the day’s occurrences and future strategies. König became responsible for making sure you both ate – it seemed that if he didn’t feed you, you’d simply forget to do it yourself and starve.

Week four was when the storm arrived, the great finale that signaled the nearing end of every mission – Blackbird had collected everything she needed and was ready to fly on home and feed her findings to her kin. Things were wrapping up and, naturally, that meant shit was going down.

The final day would end with König wounded – he fought well, your knight in shining armor. Of course he won, but he was losing blood from his abdomen and you knew he was in pain.

The jet that was assigned to pick you both up would not arrive until morning. Your due date was not until two days from now, but you’d finished early. Until then, you used what you had to stop the bleeding and make him comfortable.

You leave him on the bed that you’d been sleeping in for the last five weeks, flat on his back. If not for the pain of his stab wound, he might’ve enjoyed drowning in the lingering, feminine scent of shampoo and perfume stuck to the sheets and pillows you burrowed yourself in at night.

You bandage him with delicate fingers – such a stark difference compared to the medics back at the KorTac base. They were always so rough, like hornets pricking and prodding at his body.

He doesn’t notice how your focus was divided between his wound and his bare chest. Your impulsive thoughts, if you gave in to them, would’ve had you resting the palms of your hands flat on his muscles and grazing your fingertips over the ridges.

You tried to be respectful, the man was in pain – but you just couldn’t help your nature as it demanded to behold the glorious sculpture settled before you. Thousands of years ago, König might’ve been the model for ancient Greek statues. He was beautiful.

König sits up on the mattress when you finish, which now is stained with speckles of blood, clenching his jaw as he did. Your hands come up on his bare chest and you stop him.

“What are you doing?” You ask, bewildered, “You have to rest, König, you’re hurt.”

“This is your bed, schatz,” König grunted, “I will go to the couch.”

Now that the mission is over, you suddenly feel a wave of guilt come crashing down onto you. You’d been so busy thinking about what you needed to do, how you were going to get your hands on the information you’d been sent out to receive that you didn’t ever stop to think about König’s comfort. And here he was, spending every single day of the last five weeks watching your back, making sure you ate, and that you were comfortable. All he did was think about you.

As you stare at him, your heart begins pulsing erratically. Your face grows warm with the sudden realization that this big, brutal, soldier of a man was such a gentleman. He’d been so kind and considerate, looking over your shoulder for you like he was born to do it and not just because it was his job.

Your hands raise to cradle his masked face. You think about how this six-foot-ten beast had been sleeping on that tiny, poor excuse for a couch for nearly two months for the sake of your comfortability, and how he would do it even now when he was in pain.

Without a second thought, you go in and kiss him through the fabric of his mask – a little peck of admiration for his chivalry, a humble praise for being a rare man.

König stares at you when you pull back, he’s stunned. All these weeks of very subtly flirting with you … he thought you’d never notice, or even reciprocate his interest. König figured that you both would separate at the end of this story like Orpheus and Eurydice, he’d be damned to never know you again and you’d forget him as soon as he was gone.

With your hands still holding either side if his jaw, you tell him, “Lay down, König. Here.”

He brings up a large hand to meet one of yours, using the other to hold himself upright and stroking your wrist affectionately with his thumb, “You will not sleep on the couch, schatz.”

“No,” You agreed. “We will both stay here, on the bed, and that way if you need anything, I’m right here to help you.”

Still not believing what’s happening, he tries again to rise from the bed, only for you to guide him back down until his head rested on one of the pillows.

You ask, “That’s okay, isn’t it?”

König, beneath his mask, feels his lips curling upward as he laughs breathlessly.

He grins, “Okay?”

It was perfect.

[a-d-nox]

web of wyrd: the solar plexus chakra

the numbers we are focusing on today are based on the yellow bubbled number in the center of the web - we multiple it by two to equal your emotional number - ex: as you see above and in previous charts, my energetic/physical (because for this chakra they will always be the same) number is 6. so to get the emotional number i have to multiple by two: 6 * 2 → 12. 12 is my emotional number for the solar plexus number.

but what does this number mean?

the chakra set we are examining is the solar plexus (manipura); it governs the navel to ribs, abdominal organs, digestive system, and nervous system. it indicates personality, leadership qualities, how to achieve goals, social status, success, ability to get things done, ego, and willpower.

so let's talk about some examples:

6 - the lovers

physically 6s are very much like their ancestors/parents. they tend to look just like someone from their family. biblically, eve was made from the rib of adam. that is much like this. the two biblically figures are depicted in the the card's image and the chakra represents the ribs to i felt it was ironic. they tend to have a nervous tummy - their anxieties can live in their stomach and reap havoc on their digestive system. a common health concern for this placement tends to be diabetes.

energetically 6s are very even keel. they are the balancing energy in any connection. they keep things evened out in all their connections - they don't seek out leadership they seek equality. they can be very chameleon like in a connection to the point where no one knows the true them. they can play the long game in any situation if they have positive energy where this chakra is concerned because they wouldn't be seeking instant gratification. these people are often well liked in a community - they are likely to be rather successful as well.

6s emotionally are can struggle with codependency if they don't know how to be respectful and communicate effectively with those around them. often they can let their emotions effect how the world sees them - they can get mood descriptors from those around them instead of physical, accomplishment based, or other descriptors. their personality can be mood governed. some times their ego can get in the way too as they can have an overblown senses of self or low self-esteem.

12 - the hanged man

12s physically are very lean and tend to appear taller than they actually are (it is all a matter of perception). it could seem like their chest is very full in the rib cage area because they tend to breathe via the lungs instead of through the diaphragm. they could have very taunt and toned midsections as well. they show be careful about how they physically position themselves this lifetime because the might be putting unnecessary stress on their abdominal organs without knowing that they are.

energetically 12s aren't the people that give off leadership energy instead they seem to be examples for what not to do for those around them. it tends to look like these people are struggling in life and as though they are annoyed about their circumstances. they best achieve their goals when they slow down and take stock of everything that is happening around them. life is not as bad as they assume it to be. they are unlikely to be seen as anyone famous or popular in this lifetime - if they do make a name for themselves, it tends to be one of martyrdom.

emotionally 12s are easily annoyed by life. it is a rare day when they seem peaceful; their peace can seem like a very celestial or other worldly thing if it is to occur. it could seem like a dream or what have you. they do have a unique ability to pretend and fake their emotions in a very convincing way that has everyone believing they are being honest and real. their ego tend to be be one in which they are have a lot of "woe is me" energy and as if they are always the victim in a situation.

22 - the fool

22s physically are very trim they have a toned abandon usually because of the exercise they do. they appear very healthy though they often have unknown issues internally that cause them many issue down the road. it doesn't tend to show signs - one day they are fine and then the next they are not. they aren't very nervous people - some may say it would be better if they did have a sense of self preservation.

energetically 22s tend to be free spirits - they don't have a leadership bone in their body. they don't mind being pioneers but they don't seek followers and power like many people do because they prefer freedom and not to be held back from exploring the realm. they can best achieve goals they have by having faith in the universe and themselves. they need to trust they they have the support for the universe that they need. they often wander upon opportunities they would have over looked had they not trusted themselves and the universe.

emotionally 22s they could be very hesitant people - often they struggle with trusting themselves as they should. they might be prone to break downs when they have to start over or when the outcome is not what they expected. they have to learn to trust their intuition. this is the one the few energies that i don't find has ego issues.

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[ebonysplendor]

Bad End Cinderella (Demo)🤴

TL;DR: You ever look at a character in a story and think that they're deserving of what they got? Well, maybe, they can still get their good end, too. ...But probably not in this case.

Game Link: https://sauceco.itch.io/bad-end-cinderella

Notable Features: Male MC, Named MC, female LI, story heavy Spiciness: 1/5 -- And it's not really even spicy. The man is taking a bath with a glass of wine. Don't get me wrong, he looks good, but it's more of a vibe versus suggestive. LI MC Red Flags: 2/5 -- Obsessive, possessive, short-tempered, entitled, self-centered; he doesn't do much, but you can tell that it's brewin'.

Wanna know more? Even though it doesn't say 18+ explicitly, it does say that minors shouldn't interact...which is anyone under 18. That being said, shuffle off if you aren't of age. If you are of age, let's get into it!

Ah, intros. I never know what to put in them, so...I guess I'll talk more about the game but not so much it'll make the review pointless.

So, this game was really good, and it's not even done. Like, ugh, the writing is just so...it's elegant. Like, I want to buy it some champagne and do the posh "Oh ho ho ho ho~!" laugh as we exchange tales about poor people activities, even though I am the poor people, ya feel me? Let me tell you though, the story is everything but elegant. Like, the yandere? A royal? More like a royal fuck up. Ohhhhh~! Got hit ass!

Also, I almost forgot to mention that I put "MC Red Flags" because we're playing from the yandere's point of view which makes us him and him the main character and the main character is us since we're making the decisions for him. See? We're him and he's us. Just a heads up for that one.

Okay, is-- is the intro long enough? Are you cool with the intro being this short? Genuinely? You're gucci with me just jumping in? Because, I'm deadass just stalling. Bless you, let's stop stalling then, because I really want to tell you about this game. As usual, I'll tell you as much about the visual novel as possible without ruining the story itself.

With that out of the way, let's get into it.

Once upon a time Yeah, nah. I know it flows like a fairy tale and all, but nah. We're doing this my way.

So boom (ah~ much better).

Our -- well Claude's; that's the yandere by the way -- wife left us for some wack ass pleb, and we are officially the gossip among the commoners and will lowkey be the laughing stock of the royals. Honestly, it's embarrassing and really damned infuriating.

We're kind've running back where the marriage went wrong, and we've pretty much come to the conclusion that shit went left when we chose a hoe over our heart. Who was our heart, you ask? None other than our housemaid and (lowkey) childhood friend/sweetheart Ella.

We start reminiscin' about our one and only Ella, and just kind've recalled that we hadn't felt that genuine warmth, love, and happiness since her. Like, yeah, admittedly, we felt that with our wife for a bit, but it was mainly because she kind've boosted our ego quite a bit in the beginning, and it's like...she was there, so we may as well have learned to vibe with her a bit.

Pfft, yeah right. You see how that shit turned out. 6 years of straight misery. Fuck her and fuck that baker, too. Well...I don't know if he was a baker or not but...look, Silvia is a hoe, and so is her entire damned lineage. Period. Ella would've never ran off with some peasant the way that she did.

Wait...

Actually...we never really thought about that before. Granted, what we said about Ella never treating us the way that our ex-wife had is true, but we're starting to think that maybe that other part about her never running off with some guy is...not entirely true.

No, no, no, no, no. Negative thoughts rejected. That can't be true; it's not true. She's our Ella, and our Ella would've waited for us; our Ella did wait for us. We just have to finalize this stupid divorce and go looking for her.

So, we do. We finish the paperwork, break the shackles of being held down by a harlot that we tried to make into a queen just for her to go back to the cobblestones where she belongs, and look for our precious Ella. That being said, even though true love conquers all, this is pretty tall task to accomplish on our own, so we go to our main ally:

Esra, the royal oracle.

Nah, don't get excited, because this was a fucking waste of our time. This man wasn't an ally at all, let alone any actual help!

First off, we asked him for help, and it's just attitude with him. Like, excuse you? I'm your king? Watch your tone? Second, when we finally do get him to the point where he actually does what he's supposed to do, this mothafucka looks in his little special book and is like "Don't do it". Like, huh?! The fuck you mean "don't do it"? I ain't ask you for advice, I asked you for help, specifically how to get to my damned Ella. Then he's all "Okay, but the stars said--!" and we're like "Boy, fuck you and them stars"! Like, sir, not you telling me not to look for my Ella?!

Bump it.

We just take our lil' "help" and go on about our business, but it's like, it sucks, because now, we have to regroup and consider another ally. We start getting frustrated because why should we even have to do this in the first place, ya know? Like, why couldn't that dumbass oracle just help us like instructed? Now, because of him, we have to waste more time finding another ally, and the only other person we can even consider is ... oh Gods why ...

Floren fucking Winters. Let me tell you about this motherfucker...

He was the biggest ass to us when we were children, but unfortunately and admittedly, his bloodline is pretty top tier when it comes to combat. That being said, because of the arrangement between our families, we stay royal and they stay loyal per our late father's decree, so Floren's dad served, Floren currently serves, his future kid will serve, and so on and so forth. Anyways, I'll get more into this asshat's backstory with us later.

So, Floren comes trotting over in the middle of our monologuing talking mad shit already. He pretty much leads with "Worried about me when your divorce isn't even finalized? That's crazy. Oh, and that guy she ran off with? Lmao I bought him a beer".

Oh word? Is this what we're gonna do? Haha ooh, bitch...

Let me explain something real quick to y'all.

This dude (likely) had feelings for Ella at one point, too, if not still, and has always thought that we weren't good enough to be in her graces. That being said, remember that whole arrangement I brought up earlier? We stay royal and they stay loyal? Guess who had to ship out for 5 years to war? Guess who was making the moves on Ella for those 5 years when he was gone? Yeeeeeeeeah lmao.

So we remember all this, and we take a quick second to get on our king shit, because at the end of the day, he's beneath us, and we're damned sure gonna remind him.

See that? Now those of you that watch anime know that when the protagonist or the antagonist does this, they're about to lay into that ass and fuck up someone's world.

"Remember when you were playing hero those 5 years? It took less than that for Ella to create a divot in my hand and in my arms. Our worst times together were, would be, and are significantly better than your best times with her. Tell me you're jealous without telling me that you're jealous. Letting my birthright dictate what I do? Couldn't be me~"

Look at his face. Look at those dots. Silence. We ain't even have to correct him about the divorce...I mean, we did, but you know...summarizing. Wait, stop, don't get me off track.

Even though we just said all of that, and we had a "checkmate, bitch" sort of moment, we didn't really "win" the argument, because Floren kind've checks us about one very specific detail.

"'Couldn't be you?' Dude, it was you. You threw Ella away like a used toy when Silvia came along, and now you suddenly want to play with her again? The way that you're treating her like an object that's only there for your convenience is actually gross."

...Chile, so anyways. That thing about allies? Floren is far from one.

Even though, he was lowkey right. If Ella saw us now, she...wouldn't be entirely happy, especially about how we kind've blew up at Floren like that. We really have changed over the years, and we're starting to question our own integrity a bit despite feeling like we're still a good person overall. We love Ella, -- our Ella -- and we would do literally anything to be reunited with her.

"Are you so willing to risk the lives of unwilling innocents just to achieve your goals?"

Easily. The stars refused to shed light on our fate when asked, so I'll commit the sin first and ask for forgiveness later. That being said...

And we are probably going to sin a lot.

I'm gonna repeat myself a little bit here, but y'all the game isn't even done, and it's this good! Admittedly, as some of you that have been rocking with me know, I'm conceited when it comes to these visual novels, so I always want to be able to self-insert, and (of course) I prefer the LI to be a guy. That being said, when I saw that this was what it was I was like "Eh..." but considering that I'm a sucker for styling and that this was one of the people who are working on the masterpiece Something's Wrong with Sunny Day Jack -- **cough cough** I have a review of it here; shameful plug **cough cough** -- I gave it the ol' college try.

Okay, so, let's talk about the pacing, which was amazing. It honestly could not have been executed any better, in my opinion. The way that it just jumps right into the thick of it but not so much so that it's disorienting was such an Olympic skill. It was just so crazy that the dev was able to do that but still ease into the actual story where we see this man slowly spiral and the plotline start to take hold. It was just so beautifully done. Speaking of being beautifully done...

The yandere, Claude, is being written so well. Like mentioned, I'm genuinely enjoying the slow spiraling of this man, and I cannot wait to see how far he'll actually go for this Ella girl. Like, to read about the moment that he realized that "Oh shit...what are the chances that the woman that I blew off didn't actually wait for me?" and then he basically gets bout it, bout it with the royal oracle AND the captain of the royal guard? Not to mention, he actually acknowledges that something is potentially off with him but he rationalizes his actions and says that he's a good person and that he's doing it for love?! Like, brooooooo. We don't see it yet, but this man is bound to become a menace, and I am demanding an update!....please, I fucking beg, dev. I. BEG.

Also, just as a side thing. Can we just take a minute to talk aboUT HOW FINE FLOREN WINTERS IS???

Like Claude and Ersa are cute, don't get me wrong, but it's something about Floren. Hell, it's not something, it's errythang about Floren Winters! Like, that is hubby. That is baby daddy, and I don't even want kids, ya feel me? Like, I volunteer to keep that whole "You'll serve, your children'll serve, and then their children'll serve, and so on" thing going. We can spend plenty of time to make some babies, okay?

But no, yeah, I feel very strongly about the direction that this game is going in, and I am really excited about how the story will pan out. Like, what the hell was Ersa referring to? Why did his face literally just...?

Like, do you see that? That is genuine horror. Like, I imagine that he's seen countless prophecies, both good and bad, so what kind've shit did he see that was so appalling that he was just like "Bro, don't do this"? Like, deadass, my guy? Just straight up don't do it?? DUDE, WHAT TF DID HE SEEEEEE??????? Like, I want to know so bad! Best believe that if and when this full game drops, I will be right damned there!

Anyways, I'm gonna end it there because some of you already know how I get when it's a game that I really like. I'm gonna stop my yapping while I'm ahead. Before I officially end it though, I want to give you guys the link just in case you want to play it for yourself, and I absolutely think that you should. Also, it's been a while since the dev has gotten any comments, so if you want to do my bidding and let them know "PLEASE. I MUST KNOW HOW CLAUDE FUCKS THIS UP. UPDATE PLEASE. I mean...rest and take your time, but I'm literally offering my soul here", I'm sure they'd be delighted to know that people are still enjoying and anticipating their game. I'm pretty certain they're a part of the SnaccPop team, but I didn't see anything to donate to them as their own separate creator. If you find something, I'm sure they'd appreciate the monetary support, especially individually.

Okay, I'm gonna stop yapping for realsies now. Big preesh for getting this far. Like always, please remember to drink water, don't be dumb, and hope to see you around~!

Bad End Cinderella

[nthspecialll]

The Lady Of The Manor

The Lady Of The Manor is a book written in red dead two by Mary-Beth and as the nerd I am I read the one chapter we have access to. Overall it is a story about the fair lady Susan Grade whose husband was murdered by the criminal David Vincent, however she falls in love with him, and in this book there are some striking similarities to the gang.

Firstly, the names, the very first thing I noticed was the fact that Susan Grade and David Vincent sound a lot like Susan Grimshaw and Dutch Van Der Linde and the fact that their personalities match as well. Susan is an independent woman who is fair but strict, David is criminal but he is charismatic and it is made quite clear in the story things are not the way that they look.

We don't know a lot about Grimshaw's past but we do know she had a fiance who died and whom she loved, I cannot say that the characters are a representation of what really happened between Dutch and Susan and her fiance, but it is Mary-Beth that Susan talks about her him with.

In the story, we are also introduced to Mr. Mellon who is a police officer, again the name matches up to Agent Milton and Mellon actually proposes an offer similar to Milton. Telling the David character that if he surrenders then maybe he could survive and not get executed, similar to Milton offering to Dutch that if he surrenders then the gang might be allowed to go.

Another interesting thing about Mellon is that while he is a police officer he is described as "the most hated and feared man in all of England" and David, a criminal who is "the most wanted man in England and France" is seen as charismatic and noble, which reflects the way Mary-Beth viewed the law as a criminal herself.

David also lets Susan know that it is actually in fact not him that Mellon wants dead but Susan due to the fact that it would rise Mellon in the hierarchy, while it does not reflect what happened with Grimshaw and Dutch, it reminded me of "it is you they want Dutch" "always is" although Susan replied "me?"

As previously mentioned, it becomes clear that the situation with the dead husband isn't as seemed, because you get hinted at the fact that the husband might have been a bad dude and that David killed him to protect Susan, this is quite similar to how Dutch kills when he sees a cause in it and that they both love to save pretty ladies in need.

Another link between David and Dutch is the very last line "David Vincent smiled and led the lady away across the rooftop of the castle, to the safety in the islands," a dream very similar to the one that Dutch fed the gang with Tahiti and the pacifics.

Now to a few smaller things I found interesting, the line "I am a thief, a murderer, a sinner and your only hope of survival, follow me" which immediately made me think of the line that Arthur spoke to Sadie int he first chapter where he tells her "we are bad men, but we aren't them."

Secondly, we have "Susan Grade, born a peasant and risen up to the lady of the manor," a line which would not reflect Grimshaw but instead Mary-beth who was a run away and a gang member for many years but in the end got a big house with beautiful decorations due to her books.

Lastly, a few lines I found interesting and found too meaningful to mean nothing but can't quite put my finger on.

"She would destoy David Vincent in order to stop loving him." I find it quite chilling especially when those two characters have so much in common with Dutch and Grimshaw.

"David Vincent, the infamous Black Knight." Black Knight? Calling someone a Black Knight means someone who "[...] is a literary stock character who masks his identity and that of his liege by not displaying heraldry," aka a person who hides their identity so that their acts are not traced back to them. Dutch was, as John said, "quite a colorful character" going directly against the Black Knight idea, however that said there were many years in which it seemed Dutch did in fact not do any crimes. Or who knows, maybe he did? With a character that is so based on a person Mary-Beth had known it seems strange to put something that is so out of line for them.

This conversation "I am sorry about your husband but it was a fair fight," "a fair fight? You shot him in the back!" "I never did but we shall come to that later." A reminder that her husband was not yet cold, meaning it happened recently, and if she is there so soon she was most likely also in the area while it happened. Did she not see what happened but assumed that David shot her husband in the back?

[fumifooms]

Marchil crumbs part 2

Part 1 here - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7

Unlike my other crumbs masterposts I'm gonna be doing the marchil one through different posts rather than reblogs because copy pasting my drafts would be hell. Are you surprised there are enough crumbs that this part got past 30 pics? Yeah me too ngl. Part 3 is already full too, ooh boy

Beginning vs end (chapter 23 vs chapter 96)~ Oh how far they have come

She sees him as dependable! For good reasons, despite him generally staying out of fights, but it's still nice to see her appreciating him.

More of him rushing to help her, and a bonus of the reverse:

Let's keep looking at early Chilchuck & Marcille for a bit. I'll likely repeat myself between parts of this masterpost but they really do stick together and are on the same wavelenght quite a fair bit.

I state my case once more: comrades in disgust. It's more than that too, though! Despite their differences, despite their relationship being strictly professional, despite him dreading her addition to the party at first, he truly does care about her and values her perspective on this.

Chilchuck above is straight up implying that Marcille is the moral compass of the party, and seemingly appreciates that about her.

In part 1, I mentioned how they do argue, but always talk it out and it never turns into resentment between them, but I didn't show examples. Now is the time! Let's see how they hash things out.

She's not offput by his brash demeanor and is very open to explaining. They don't typically tend to budge on the issues they debate, but they do have an earnest conversation with each other and the other doesn't fall in their esteem for it.

The biggest disagreements they've had is definitely Marcille using dark magic and the bicorn chapter, which was a both-way moment of tension between them. It was when she hassled him about a sensitive topic (his wife) and when he lied to her that he had cheated on his wife, because of that during the chapter Marcille is very cold towards him (but even then rushes to his aid and is worried for him when hurt etc etc), until he later opens up andthey have agoodlong good-natured chat about it, by the end they're both back to normal and laughing together. It's definitely the most Marcille & Chilchuck centric chapter out there, at this point give it a reread though we're running a tight ship here and it's 30 pics max.

Ok. Tangent over, back to how even though there are disagreements they don't fall in each other's esteem. Maybe it's more that they trust each other to have common sense really, which is running rare in these parts, but... When they were apprehended by Shuro’s party, Chilchuck isn’t worried about leaving Marcille by herself, unlike with Senshi and Laios. And this wasn’t a decision without weight either, because this is JUST after she has used dark magic, but her letting that information slip and landing them into trouble doesn’t even occur to him. For a good reason since Laios ends up being the one to do just that... It's as much as a confirmation as we can get that he thinks she has the most common sense and social skills out of the party

And speaking of putting stock in others: They strategize together and appreciate each other’s input very often! Part 1 already had some but here some more:

I do like how he gets to manhandle her after he gets manhandled himself so often lol. There’s also smth to be said about him having seen her as an halfling, since his type is blonde halfling women… Bonus of Marcille being the very contrary of enamored with Chilchuck's changeling form:

----

She is the best wingman. Has nothing but best of intentions. She wants to know her friends aka him better!! "I’ll invite you guys to meet my family" from Chilchuck means the world and more, they’re def not just coworkers anymore and man. MAN!!! Chil breaching that bridge for her. Him doing this because he knows she really wants that, AND blushing madly... If you wanna go the extra delulu mile it's kinda like he's opening his family up to her and fully letting her in, and may I add inviting her into his family perhaps even like something resembling a proposal after which she showers him in flowers and lover's gifts and-

Tfw you need to make sure your friend doesn’t get an inflated price/you make sure your girl gets only the best. This comic means they went shopping together btw, despite how he dislikes waiting after people ♡

Nothing to say about these they're just funny:

He do be keeping an eye and an ear out for her

Part 3 is here!

With juicy tidbits such as more of Chilchuck drooling over blond hair and them interacting across a table in the golden kingdom. Very fun very fun

[ckret2]

What is the equivalent of the phrase "Oh my God" that Bill uses? Is he mentioning some god figure from his home dimension or is he using “Oh my me” or “Oh my Axolotl”?

He doesn't use anything.

Have you ever heard an atheist say "oh my big bang" instead of "oh my god"? In common usage, the word "god" in "oh my god" is merely part of a stock phrase and not a declaration of belief. In fact, changing "god" to another term would instantly make it more religious, since if you just say "oh my god" it's like "well maybe they believe in a god or maybe they're just using the phrase," but if you say "oh my [something else]" it's like "they DEFINITELY believe in [something else] so passionately that they changed the phrase just to emphasize how much they believe in it."

If Bill ever used the phrase, he would use it like a foreign word pronounced omaigohd that's just an exclamation that communicates a specific emotional meaning to English-speakers (anger, shock, excitement)—and he's not going to get all cutesy while speaking a foreign language to draw attention to something irrelevant. This exclamation isn't an avenue to announce his religious beliefs.

There ARE issues he feels passionately enough about that he'd break away from common English. Unless he's in "pretending to be human" mode, at any place where a human would naturally refer to themself as "a person," "a woman/man," "female/male," "she/he," Bill will refer to himself as "a shape," "a triangle," "triangular," "it," even in contexts where that sounds weird to the humans. His gender is triangle and that matters to him. Religion does not.

At any rate, there's no [something else] he could fill into the phrase. He knows for a fact that there are figures powerful enough to alter reality—he is one. He suspects on good evidence that there are even more powerful figures that can conjure an entire universe from nothing—he is not one. He considers "power" and "divinity" to be separate things, he doesn't think powerful figures are divine, and he doesn't think the divine is real. He thinks "god" is an artificial social label, like "king," that only exists when enough people concur that it's real and stops existing when enough people stop respecting it. He thinks "god" is what the weak call the powerful when they've been fooled into thinking the powerful deserve worship. He thinks he's one of the powerful that fools the weak. He doesn't think he's a god—except when he's lying to himself very well—but he loves how it feels when other people call him a god, so he encourages it. He doesn't consider anybody god, he doesn't obey or respect any authority, and generally the more powerful a being is, the more he dislikes them on principle. One trillion years ago, the beliefs he was raised with were the sort a white American boomer experiencing a religious crisis would insist are "spiritual but not religious." He briefly thought gods might be real in his youth, but never worshiped any.

But all that aside—his vocabulary simply doesn't include the phrase "oh my god." He doesn't want to imply he even might worship something—he's too proud and that pride is too fragile. If he has to make an exclamation, it'll be something entirely different—"Oh boy." "Oh, come on!" "You're kidding me." "Seriously?" "Whoa!" "Wow!" "No way," maybe hysterical laughter—whatever's fitting in a given situation. Several times in the fic I've had to go find a different phrase where if he was another character I could've just put "omigosh".

[cowboyjen68]

hi cowboyjen! im a lesbian in my 20s and i need some advice -- i really would like to use the butch label for myself but i hesitate because i worry others dont see me as "butch enough," so what makes a butch, butch?

Butch is something I came into because of my shared experiences with other butches. I see it as partly how I am percieved but also how I see myself in the world. It plays a part in how I relate to to other women and how women relate to me.

Not everyone who wears masculine clothing is butch (ask the women farmers around rural Iowa who are straight LOL) and being butch does entail a certian about of experiences that are common. Butches can't shake off how they are seen by others with clothing or hair styles. The energy is contast and often confuses others into being unsure if we are a man or woman upon first or even second glances.

Butch enough is not really something I put too much stock in. Butches come in all sizes, abilities and have varied jobs and interests.

The most common shared butch stories are being called Sir when someone does a quick take. Being told we "should have been a boy" or "why do you want to look like a man". We look (and feel) obviously awkward in women's dress clothing. I and all my butch friends have several stories of being ushered from or told we are in the wrong bathroom. EVEN when I had a pony tail. We get told by straight women they "wish we were men" or we "must be better than men because we understand women but are still.. you know.. manly".

Aesthetically we tend to prefer men's (read utilitarian) and short hair (again read utilitarian) but this can vary. It is a bit of a generalization. Comfortable clothing is chosen over just pleasing to look at. Let me be clear, there is NOTHING wrong with dressing in things other consider "uncomfortable) because you want to be attractive to any give group of people. Don't yuck other's yum. We all have the right to our tastes but I am speaking from a butch perspective.

Find older butches who resemble you. SIze, body shape etc and talk with them. Butch certianly does not fit everyone but in general those women who feel "butch" speaks to them is probably more accurate about themselves than others can be.

It is perfecty fine to try Butch on for size, just don't get a bit old tattoo or change all your social media right away. GIve yourself some time to decide, Yeah for me or Nah not for me.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Just curious, how do the lmk crew when they are sick and when others are sick? (Not pregnancies since that whole different ball park.)

OK heres my hcs for how LMK gang deals with being sick/others being sick:

Xiaotian/MK: Ignores serious symptoms until he physically cannot walk. And although he loves the extra break time, he almost goes nuts when he's too sick and feverish to much else but rest. Draws a lot when ill, especially of his fever dreams. To Others: he goes full worried mother-hen on them. Soup, tea, soft pillows, meds, you name it - he'll zoom across town for it. Often ends up catching whatever the other person had cus of proximity.

Xiaojiao/Mei: Legit doesn't notice her symptoms until she starts flagging mid-drive, then she puts herself on strict bedrest until she's good enough to hit the road again. Prefers to treat herself, so she gets embarassed when she gets really sick and the others have to step in. To Others: Jokingly mourns them and drops off a bag filled with their fave snacks before booking it out the door. She will support them from a distance. XD

Sun Wukong: "Bah! Illness is for dorky mort- ACHOO!!" His relative isolation on FFM and hubris towards earths tiniest organisms has left SWK with almost zero immunity to common diseases. Pretty much passes out the second he gets the tiniest cold. Will try and meditate/sleep his way back to normal, but will need to be dragged kicking and screaming to a doctor. To Others: The opposite. Mortals are so fragile! Are you ok!? Why is your nose running? Are you dying?! This monkey goes into full panic mode over the smallest ailments. Buys out the pharmacy's stock in cough syrup and cold meds. Probably makes himself sick in the process.

Macaque: Accepts his fate and holes himself up in a nest for the foreseeable future. Has a slightly stronger immune system than Wukong (don't tell me that this monkey didn't live like an alley cat at some point), but in the case of really serious illness will crawl himself towards his nearest ally and/or enemy for assistance/a more honorable death. Secretly enjoys being pampered while in his more vunerable state. To Others: Full mom-mode combined with "I told you so" attitude. Strict bedrest and warm blankets. Monkey instincts take over and he'll make the sick person eat weird medicinal plants he finds/alchemises, and cuddle them in hopes of making them feel better. Often times it works.

Pigsy: Claims he's never taken a sick day in his life. Is proven wrong the first time he catches a random virus and has to shut the down kitchen for about a week. Is very frustrated, but puts the customers' safety over his pride. When he gets the slightest bit better he'll start cooking up a storm to make up for lost time. To Others: "Sick. Leave. Now." Will physically carry his sick friends/workers to the doctors to get meds before he lets them in the door. Will stuff the sick person full of healthy traditional soup recipes to encourage "natural healing" in addition to strict medical assistance. Will claim that he'd do this for anyone (he lying).

Tang: "Oh no~ I have the flu! I guess I'll have to stay home and be feed soup by my beloved Piggy~" This man will 100% take advantage of his sickness for attention. Don't lie to me. To Others: On one hand, eww. On the other, he may be able to steal a bowl of Pigsy's healing soup. Will smile fondly and let the ill person recover in their own time with meds.

Sandy: Goes belly up in the water. He's a guy with great constitution, so he doesn't get sick often. But when he does? Doctor, now. Can bounce back fairly quickly if treated, but he'll insist on the others not getting too close to him or his cats less they catch it too. Will appriciate any help (esp with his foster cats) around the boat house tho. Cat cuddle pile until he's better. To Others: Enters the room wearing a face mask and gloves, holding a tray of different teas (hot and iced), and offers to lend his aromatherapy machine. Very big on holistic methods, but won't discourage modern medicine.

Red Son: Goes into "dying victorian child"-mode. Was in the Guanyin's Southern Seas paradise for centuries (so no immunities) and likely hasn't caught most diseases simply because his body runs too hot for the micro-organisms to survive. But if he catches something supernatural, or it triggers a violent immuno-response? He's a sweaty mess unable to move from his bed, surrounded by ice packs. It's very difficult to take care of him in this state cus he's like smouldering lava. His parents get *very* worried. Gets ridiculously honest, slurring things like; "I love you so much noodle boy~" *passes tf out* to his caretakers. Doesn't remember a thing afterwards. To Others: "Bull Clones! Initiate hazmat procedures!" Gets mega worried cus he's never had to help someone in this state before, but understands how laboratory hazmat works, so will assist wearing full PPE. Will disinfect the ill person's entire living space to eliminate future threats. If the sick person is someone *really important to them, Red will panic and seek out supernatural assistance.

Nezha: "Sick? Nah I don't get sick." *falls asleep at the breakfast table the second no one's looking*. Tries to "tough it out" like he believes he should, but is woefully unprepared for how protective the rest of the gang can be. It's been a long time since someone has actually tucked him in and nursed him back to health - he gets really emotional. Will now die for his caretakers' no matter how small his ailments were. To Others: Vows to help however he can, and then goes to stand guard at the bedroom door. Will call for advice on bedside manner stuff cus he's not used to it (youngest of three yo) beyond what his mom would do for him as a toddler.

Bai He: Little kid. Will sneeze and cough and allow herself to be corralled into bed for the week. Very sleepy. Stuffed animal fort will be built to protect her. Mo may sneak in to cuddle her better. To Others: Is told to keep away from the sick person less she catches it, but will sneak in and donate one of her fave toys to keep them company. In the case of non-communicable ailments; will sneak in and try to cuddle the sick person better since that always makes her feel better too. Brings her tablet so that they can watch something together.

+(Au character) Chenxiang: Is pretty healthy, but also has no idea how personal health works. Gets his first ever really bad illness by getting drenched in rain one night and not drying himself off properly. Hallucinates feverishly and mistakes Wukong as still being his Sifu, and that he needs to save his mother. Multiple family members are required to wrangle Chenxiang back to bed in this state. Gets really quiet/wistful once he starts getting better. To Others: Gets really worried and immediately summons the adults for help. The only other time in the past he's cared for a sick person... didn't end happily. So he gets really really insistent on the sick person going to the doctor, taking meds, drinking tea & soup, everything. Pretty much helicopters over the sick until they get better, or if the adults take over for him.

[saint-jussy]

I know I've been in your asks before but I need a lecture on the ship "Saintspierre". I don't know the historical context behind it and why they get villanized so much. I'm a newbie when it comes to history. Thank you! :)

Hello again! So Saintspierre is the ship between Robespierre & Saint-Just of the French Revolution, who are often depicted as queer-coded villains in adaptations of the Revolution to serve as a counterpart to the Straight and Manly ™️ Danton. This happens because reactionaries are eager to push the narrative of 1789 being "the Good Revolution" and 1792 as "the Bad Revolution." Danton represents the Good Revolutionary, who advocates for change but is against offending too many moderates, while Robespierre is the Bad Revolutionary who brought on the Reign of Terror. They make Danton out to be a tragic victim who heroically tried to stop the Terror (even though he had a major hand in starting it and was corrupt af) and Robespierre out to be a gay psychopath who killed him out of jealousy. You can see this in La Revolution Francais (1989), Danton (1983), the BBC documentary, and many other adaptations.

For example, LRF goes out of its way to depict Danton as a loving family man, with a frankly excessive number of scenes of him making out with his two wives, while ignoring how he was a creep who sexually harassed women and that his second wife was 16. His close ally Camille is also depicted as very loving with his wife Lucile. Meanwhile, Robespierre is never shown being affectionate toward any women. The only person he has multiple close interactions with, besides his childhood friend Camille, is Saint-Just, who struts into his attention in part 2 and ruthlessly replaces Camille at Robespierre's side. Literally, Saint-Just's only character traits in this movie are being pretty and zealously urging Robespierre to kill Camille specifically. They even made up a scene where Saint-Just sends thugs to beat Camille up while making Camille think it was Robespierre who did it, so he can cause an irrevocable break between them. They give him no backstory, no explanation for his motivations, and completely erase his military accomplishments. He's just an homme fatale who lures Robespierre to the dark side with his pretty hair. This is a common tactic in works that struggle to reconcile the fact that Robespierre was on record being a pacifist who opposed the death penalty, opposed the war, and fought for the rights of the poor, with the propaganda that he was a monster responsible for the Terror. They blame his fall on Saint-Just.

Another tactic they use to villainize Robespierre is exaggerating his vanity. There is ALWAYS a scene where Robespierre gets his wig pampered. I mean, yeah, he DID care a lot about his appearance and never stepped out of the house looking like shit...but Danton wore a wig too. 99% of Danton's historical portraits have him in a wig, yet these works have him conveniently ditching it in most scenes to rock his Messy & Manly Natural Hair, and you will NEVER catch them showing Danton caring for his wig. No, only fops like Robespierre do that...even though it was just the norm at the time for lawyers to wear wigs. They put shady emphasis on Robespierre following 18th century fashion norms that have now become feminized, like wigs, lace cuffs, and stockings, to further queer-code him.

THOUGH, it's true that even historically, Robespierre was seen as a strange man in many ways. There are many contemporary accounts that rail on him for repeating things, being socially awkward, being blunt and callous, hating physical contact, having no emotions, being incapable of love--when from a modern lens, it's clear to me that he was just autistic. Like omg, leave the man alone. But when people want to villainize someone, they latch onto the traits that make them seem odd, that stray from typical societal expectations. When it comes to Robespierre, his villainization thus becomes very gendered, homophobic, and ableist, because he was 36 and unmarried and didn't abuse his power to sexually harass women and cared about his appearance and had a large female following and was most likely autistic. Meanwhile, Saint-Just gets exaggerated as a breathtakingly handsome twink who wore an earring and has a fancy bathroom that Camille roasted him for. Like omg, how dare a man have running water in his bathroom and not look like shit in the 18th century!!

Personally, I ship Robespierre & Saint-Just as a form of rebellion against this villainization. If they were gay, so WHAT? It would be cute. Fuck the homophobes. They did have a very touching relationship with each other. They shared many similar ideas and complemented each other's personalities and Saint-Just chose to defend Robespierre to the end even though he could've easily saved himself on the basis of his military merits by staying out of the drama. The fact that he was prevented from finishing his last speech, in which he defended Robespierre, is one of the saddest things in the whole goddamn Revolution.

Is there historical basis for their relationship being explicitly romantic? Most of their correspondences have been burnt, so we don't have much, but I ship it regardless in a historical fiction, What If? kind of way. Robespierre and Eleonore aren't romantically confirmed either, but nobody bats an eye when mainstream media or even historians treat them as "canon." I think that is very heteronormative, so I am ride or die for Saintspierre as protest. Some historians have pointed out that we have no records of any warm interactions between them, but I think they understood each other in a way that didn't require pleasantries, and that's what makes them so compelling to me. There's Charlotte Robespierre's infamous casual revelation that Saint-Just was Maximilien's 2nd favorite revolutionary, just after his own brother and OVER Camille. Then the Duplay testimony that Saint-Just would go up to Robespierre's room without saying hi to anyone else. It's these little things!!

Anyway, I'm leaving out a lot of details about precisely what Robespierre & Saint-Just were and weren't responsible for in history, but just know that they were two of the only clean, honest political leaders of the time. Never took a bribe, never embezzled, meant everything they said, were genuinely committed to the ideals they spouted. It's incredibly unfair that they, along with the other leftist paragon Marat, ended up with the worst reputations.

[stupidrant]

OH OH WHAT ABOUT THIS ATREBODA AU I JUST CAME UP WITH because i'm currently listening to both delightful and brooding classical music. these strings are making me feel things. (bars 🔥)

victorian era england, a son of a working class man (kratos is either a blacksmith in this or does manual labor), walking in a park with his two dogs (speki and svanna! <3). he is there with his sketch book, the park is where he can find inspiration & draw in peace. suddenly he comes across a shiny pearl necklace. someone has lost this, but who could it be? he looks around and sees a young lady, a worried expression etched on her face. she is pretty, has her hair tied up, a fan in her hand, wearing a beautiful gown with bows and, by jove, pearl accessories! that must be hers!

or so atreus thinks. he has never talked to anyone of the aristocracy before, let alone be in the presence of them! but he works up the courage to ask her about the necklace in his hand. it's now or never. "e-excuse me, my lady... is this yours by any chance?"

she looks up, relief washing over her. "yes, it is! oh thank you so much for finding it! i thought i was done for..." it's a prized posession, the set angrboda has on is her mother's. she would have been heartbroken if she had truly lost it, but thnkfully there's a hero around. a lanky and akward hero, but that's not important. she then asks him to help her put the necklace on, which atreus does with shaky hands and shallow breathing (he tried desperately to hide his nervousness. but it worked!).

angrboda notices the sketchbook atreus has. she reveals that she loves to draw as well, she does it often in her free time! atreus feels happy to have find someone who shares the same interests as him, and they both sit on the bench. they talked to each other for a long time, quite animatedly too.

there's no evil stepmother in this story. there is, however, a bitter and misguided grandmother. gryla wonders where the girl has gone off to now. it is time for her singing lessons and preparations for the banquet. but she spots angrboda talking to a mere lower class boy. what is this girl doing? speaking/associating with the common folk? why is she adamant in becoming a laughing stock, like her mother was? her mother's union to her father shook the aristocratic world. it was only a miracle that gryla has gotten a second chance with angrboda. there is no way she will let her tarnish the family name. gryla must set up suitors for her, dukes, earls, barons, whoever it must be! all so she can forget all about that boy and not ruin her chance (even though she's in the wrong. very much so.)

DUN DUN DUUUUNN. TO BE CONTINUED. MAYBE.

PLEASE. ONTINEU THIS ANAON WDYDUUJHHHHGGGGG

[ziallslvr]

wRoNg: chapter one

warnings: swearing, lots of making out, other than that this is the tamest chapter.

“I dunno, Ed. I guess I’m just nervous. I’ve never really been in a big group, y’know?” Niall was pacing back and forth in his small dorm room, his roommate lying comfortably on his twin bed. He paid no mind to his stressed out roommate. Louis was good at minding his business.

The two had just met when they moved in, but they got along just fine. They had met on Instagram through a roommate finder page, and the rest is history. They also had a lot in common, including both being some sort of LGBT. Niall hadn’t quite figured it out yet.

“Yeah, I get it man. You gotta put yourself out there, didn’t Louis get bidded on too?” Ed replied after a quick pause. He was referring to the frat they had rushed for, and spoiler alert, they both got bidded on. Niall was chosen by the self-proclaimed “leader” of the group, Zayn? Niall wasn’t sure about the name. Louis got bidded on by Zayn’s presumed boyfriend. He didn’t know that name either. The two had concluded the night before that they solely got bidded on for being foreign, because Zayn and his boyfriend were too.

“Yeah, he did. I guess you’re right. We have to go prepare for our initiation soon. I’ll call you back, alright?” Ed said okay, and Niall quickly hung up before throwing his phone on his bed. He eyed Louis, who still hadn’t looked up from his phone. The only problem Louis had was clearly selective hearing.

“Hellooooo?” Louis snapped back up from his phone, setting it down next to him to focus his full attention on Niall.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” Louis had a cocky smirk plastered on his face. Some people would describe Louis as a handsome devil. Conceited, yet one of the prettiest guys you’ll ever meet.

“We need to leave soon. Did you forget about initiation?” mumbled Niall, clearly annoyed at Louis.

“Imitation isn’t until tomorrow. Tonight’s just our warm up. Plus, do you really want to go? You’re not a big drinker.” Niall didn’t know why Louis was being so flaky, but he ignored it. He wanted to go out tonight and break out of his shell. He had been at college for nearly a month and his only friend remained Louis.

“Maybe I want to tonight,” shrugged Niall, walking to his closet and pulling out a t-shirt. It was plain and white, but Niall didn’t want to wear something nice in case he did get plastered. Louis, on the other hand, was going all out with a tank top and probably the tightest skinny jeans in his collection.

“Whatever,” Louis picked up his phone and went back to endlessly scrolling, “If you get wasted, I’m not carrying you back.” Niall rolled his eyes before fixing his hair in the mirror, making sure he looked perfect for the night ahead of him. He was hoping he could find someone to take home, but that didn’t seem too promising. Back home, he only had one girlfriend. They promptly broke up once she found out Niall was going to America for his studies.

“Wasn’t going to ask you to,” Niall laid his head on the edge of Louis’ bed in a way to intimidate him into getting ready. Reaching a hand onto Louis’ leg, Niall tried his best to seem calm. Sometimes he did this just to mess with him. It was comical to see Louis get hard from it.

“Stop looking at me like that,” said Louis, clearly annoyed, “And you know I don’t like when you do that.”

“Do what?” Niall had a fake look of innocence on his face, and Louis hated every second of it. On rare occasions, he enjoyed when Niall would mess with him, but recently he has been disliking it more and more. It felt like he was a laughing stock to Niall, even if he knew that was not the truth.

“Touching my leg.” Louis got up off the bed, the blond’s hand falling in response. Niall huffed, sitting down in his desk chair to wait for Louis. He spun slightly in the chair

Louis didn’t need to do much, just fix his hair and throw on a pair of shoes. Shortly, he finished, and Niall rose up and grabbed his school ID.

“Do you have your ID?”

“Yup,” He said while directing his eyes to his pocket. Louis opened their dorm’s door, letting Niall go ahead first. It was a small gesture, but Niall appreciated it. It made him feel like a princess, in some weird, gender-bent way. Louis locked the door and followed the boy in front of him. You really could never be too careful on a college campus, especially one as big as their university.

The walk to the frat house was mostly silent, with only the night breeze and other party goers making noise. Niall was too nervous to even speak up, and Louis respected that he didn’t want to have a conversation.

“I’m so nervous,” whispered Niall as they approached the house. Music was already echoing outside and several drunk patrons were slowly leaving.

“Don’t be,” Louis soothed, grabbing Niall’s hand and squeezing it. They had a weird dynamic, but they had been helping each other a lot through their first semester.

Niall smiled and dragged them up to the house’s ‘bouncers.’ They were just the frat’s sophomores, but they were intimidating enough to scare off the weird people. Getting in went smoothly. The bouncers, Luke and Ashton, recognized them and didn’t even check their ID.

“Finally,” a voice said, making Niall jump in surprise. Louis stayed still, eyeing the boy talking to them carefully. It was Zayn, and his boyfriend that Niall still didn’t know the name of was behind him.

“Did we keep you waiting?” Louis grinned cockily. Niall sighed and let go of his roommate’s hand.

“We have to introduce our new pledges,” Zayn said, patting Niall on the back.

“Right,” the Irish boy spoke up, “Sorry we were late! Louis is just… bad at time management.”

“No problem, lad,” Zayn turned to his boyfriend and signaled him over, “This is my boyfriend, Harry. He’ll be partnered up with you Niall for initiation. Louis, you’ll be with me.”

“Perfect,” said Louis, quickly leaving Niall’s side and walking off with Zayn. The blond was scared to be left alone with Harry, but it couldn’t be that bad. They both seemed nice enough, considering their position.

“Niall Horan, right?” Harry set a hand on Niall’s shoulder in a comforting way. Niall nodded and smiled, goosebumps running up his spine.

“Why don’t we take this upstairs? So we can talk about initiation?” Niall didn’t say a word, instead walking up the stairs slowly behind Harry. Maybe he was just scared because Harry was an attractive guy, Niall thought, but that was just him trying to rationalize his behavior.

Now that he was thinking of it, Harry was one of the most gorgeous men he had ever seen. His curls laid perfectly on his head with a cute bandana wrapped around it. Not to mention, he was muscular and had tattoos. He was the whole package.

Harry had dragged Niall to one of the bedrooms that he could only assume was Harry and Zayn’s. There weren't many decorations, but by the clothes on the floor, his idea checked out.

“So, what do I need to do to prepare for tomorrow? I know frats doing hazing and stuff but I know you guys don’t,” rambled Niall, sitting down on the bed. Harry smirked, brushing past Niall and sitting next to him.

“Me and Zayn both have different ways of initiation,” said Harry, resting a hand on Niall’s leg, “And I hope you know if you want to be a part of this group, you’ll have to do this.”

“And what is that?” He gulped, staring down at his thighs to avoid any eye contact with Harry.

“It may sound stupid, but have you ever had sex with a guy before?” Hearing that question made Niall’s head flood with thoughts. Even though he knew he had some sort of interest with men, he had never really done anything with a guy. Sure, he messed around with Louis sometimes, but that was strictly platonic.

“No…? I had a girlfriend until I got here,” Niall tried his best not to sound judgemental, but what Harry was implying was, to put it lightly, insane.

“Shit, I forgot about that,” Harry didn’t dare to move his hand away from Niall, instead tightening his grip on his leg, “Well, I’m happy to be your first. If you’re okay with that, of course.”

“If that’s what gets me in…” Niall paused, debating if he should really go through with this, “I guess so.” He smiled softly, finally making eye contact with Harry. The latter smiled, leaning in and giving Niall a kiss on the cheek.

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow. Go find Louis, yeah? He’s probably looking for you.” And with that, Niall left the room to go find Louis. That didn’t take long, he was waiting by the front door for him.

“We need to go,” Louis said with pleading eyes. Niall raised an eyebrow, but took Louis’ hand and walked outside. Fighting the incoming crowd, they finally made it away from the house.

“What’s wrong?” Niall asked, walking down the concrete sidewalk. Their dorm wasn’t too far, only about a ten minute walk, but they could cut it down to seven if they walked fast enough.

“What the hell did Harry ask you to do?” Louis was obviously in some sort of distress, his eyes looking wilder than Niall had ever seen before.

“Uh, depends. What’d Zayn ask you to do?” They both picked up their pace, seeing familiar buildings in the distance.

“Sex. That’s what he wants to do! I’ve never done anything like that before unless, you know, it’s with a girlfriend-, or boyfriend. The specifics don’t matter!”

“I guess that’s how their relationship works…”

“Wait,” Louis stopped in his tracks and turned to look Niall in the eyes, “Harry asked you the same thing?”

He slowly nodded. It was too embarrassing to say out loud.

“Did you say yes?” Niall let go of his hand and walked forward.

“Niall, tell me!” Louis sounded like he was begging at this point, desperation lingering, “If it makes you feel better… I did too.”

“Yeah, I did,” Niall was still speeding up, wanting any memory of Harry to leave. This can’t be real, Niall thought, this has to be a dream.

“Have you done anything with a guy before? I know you and Ellie we’re together for a long time.”

“Louis, we can talk about this when we get home. This isn’t a conversation to have in public.” Louis respected his wishes, grabbing his hand once again and matching Niall’s walking pace.

Louis rushed inside the moment they got back to their hall. Niall was basically humiliated, his face flushed a faint maroon. He really didn’t want to talk to his roommate about his sex life and personal preferences, but they were going through the same thing, and Niall thought they could help each other through this tough decision.

The elevator ride up to their floor was quite awkward, especially with how many girls and guys were in there with him. Their hands never left each other, though, it was oddly comforting. The elevator finally stopped on their floor, level six, and Louis led the way to their room.

“Finally,” said Louis, staring at the 0607 on the door. Sixth floor, room seven. Their untwined fingers parted.

“To answer your question, I haven’t. That’s why I’m so anxious about tomorrow,” said Niall, climbing up onto his bed, not bothering to change, “I haven’t even kissed a guy. Do you know how embarrassing that is?”

“Hey, don’t worry,” Louis laid his head on arms that were crossed on Niall’s bed, “You’ll do fine. I’m nervous too, not gonna lie, but I’m sure it’ll be fine. I really need to get into this thing. I want to have friends.”

“You’re going to have friends anyway,” spat Niall, “You made it on the soccer team. I have nothing. I have to do this.” Louis nodded slowly, climbing onto the bed. He seemed more at ease, Niall noticed, a jarring difference from his behavior before.

“You’re really likable, Niall, remember that. Your best friend from highschool still talks to you. Mine completely forgot about me.” Louis laid down next to him, wrapping his arms around Niall’s waist.

“Yeah,” He sniffled, “I guess you’re right. It wouldn’t hurt to try things out? Even if it means we’re getting involved in their weird open relationship thing.” He flipped himself over, staring at Louis. More importantly, staring at Louis’ lips.

“I knew you would agree. If you need any help, I’m here, okay? And I’ll always be here. You’re like, my best friend now,” Louis leaned in, giving Niall a quick kiss on the forehead. Thankfully, Niall wasn’t blushing as bad as he was before they made it up here.

“Yeah. Can I do something real quick?” The other shook his head to signal permission, and with that, Niall softly kissed Louis lips. The brunette put his hands on his cheek, pulling him in closer. Heating up, Louis intensified the kiss with a lick to Niall’s bottom lip. Niall let him in, accepting what was going to happen.

Louis parted the kiss, leaving the other painted with disappointment. He smirked, climbing on top of Niall, his knees resting next to his hips. His hand snuck his way up his shirt, pulling it up to reveal Niall’s stomach. Ignoring the gasp from the boy under him, Louis leaned down, peppering his stomach with kisses.

Louis bit down, sucking on the skin roughly. Niall groaned, feeling as flustered as ever. That didn’t stop Louis, though, and he continued his attack on his stomach. After what felt like forever, Louis stopped and parted with Niall’s torso.

Looking down, Louis smiled at his work and pecked Niall on his lips.

“We can practice with each other,” Louis said, “We’re going to need it if this is how the frat works.”

“Y-Yeah,” Niall said nervously, his face red and sweaty. He wasn’t hot, but the overwhelming atmosphere made him sweat.

“Are you okay? I didn’t take it too far, right?” Louis asked cautiously, making sure he didn’t cross any boundaries. Even if they were just roommates, he cherished the friendship they had, and he didn’t want to ruin it.

“No, you didn’t,” Niall leaned up to be face level with Louis, “I liked it. I’ll return the favor soon, okay?” He didn’t just like it, he loved it. Getting flustered was just something Niall was good at, and he wanted to save Louis from his worries.

“Don’t worry about it,” Louis kissed him once more before climbing off the bed and hopping into his. Niall frowned, feeling lonely the moment Louis got under his covers.

The rest of the night was pervaded with silence. Niall had gone to bed a little bit after the practicing, as getting that hot and bothered exhausted him. He didn’t even get to relieve himself, but that was okay. He still appreciated what Louis did.

Louis stayed up, unlike his roommate. Staring at the tiled ceiling, he thought about the initiation tomorrow night. Was Zayn really wanting him to do this? Just to get into a frat? It wasn’t anything he had ever before, but maybe frats were a lot different than what he heard back home.

Louis couldn’t lie to himself and say that the idea of having sex with Zayn was disgusting, because it wasn’t at all, but he barely knew the guy. Zayn was mysterious, leaving a lot for the imagination. He was nice enough to bid on him, and that’s where the association ended.

Before falling asleep, Louis glared at Niall’s sleeping body. He looked so at peace, so calm, and Louis couldn’t help but smile at the resting boy. Surely he had never seen anyone as cute as him in his life. It made his stomach flutter, but he chose to ignore that part. Far too late into the night to start overthinking.

“Goodnight, Niall,” whispered Louis, rolling over in bed and throwing the sheets over himself.