#mismatched levels of care and love in a relationship is a really hard thing

[bigothteddies]

Maybe bordering on parasocial but dear god the way that you talk about meatz truly, no joke, gives me so much hope for my future love. I’ve always loved more than my partners, been more sappy and more sentimental and felt more deeply, but the way you talk about loving them makes me hopeful that someday someone will describe me the same way and love me as deeply as you love them ☺️ lots of love for you two :))))

It’s honestly overwhelming at times how much we care about each other. I’m very lucky to have someone that inspires me to love them more every day and it’s overwhelming to process just how much I want to share my life with them. I think from the very beginning of us starting to get to know each other better knew how badly we could fall for each other. I fell in love with how they looked at me and how they cared for themselves and the world and how they inspired me to be a better person to match them. The way they love is so complete and caring and addicting and it’s something I chase every day, to be worthy of their love and the person they want to give it to. It’s absolutely crazy that I met someone I want to align myself so completely with on nsfw tumblr almost 5 years ago and even crazier that we’re two years into our crazy relationship this week.

[polyamorouspunk]

hi hello I hope you're day evening etc. is going alright. sending metaphysical pancakes or sth your way if you want them and if you're up to it maybe asking for. advice. in return. though I'm strongly assuming the only solution here is ✨communication✨ but unfortunately on occasion that is scary and hard to figure out

so. my partner wants to live with me. ideally for me to move in with them. which is great! I've been sorta dreaming about that for years! all good, right?

well. the thing is. we've been planning to live together in the past. repeatedly. repeatedly and not continuously because somehow the plans were always cancelled, and hate to say it but never from my side. I don't like pointing this out to them bc it sounds like I'm holding a grudge or sth, though they always had valid reason for backing out and obviously it's better anyway for both of us if they back out if they don't feel ready rather than having to deal with a difficult-to-reverse situation like sharing a living space. but nonetheless it has happened... 3? 4? times over the last... decade or so and I'm having a hard time trusting that this time it's not gonna suddenly pulled back again which would. y'know. hurt kinda.

additionally, we've both moved into our respective flats fairly recently (2 and 1 years aho respectively), and neither is really made for 2 people. theirs would work alright if needed but I'm fairly certain we'd want/need more space sooner rather than later, and I don't really want to move all the time since it's bloody exhausting. and like... we DO have pretty different idk styles of living? they're all about pretty places and a good level of tidiness, and I'm kind of a mess with stuff everywhere and mismatched furniture and decoration bc functionality trumps style and also I collect all the stuff that I like and display it regardless of whether it objectively looks "good". meaning, and in the past we'd always agreed on this, that it'd be good if we both did have separate spaces at our disposal, so the general living space can be nice and aesthetic and they can decorate their space how they like and I can contain my chaos in my own space without bothering anyone much. except now out of the blue they seem adamant to move in together asap and get really excited about it and I HAVE explained most of this but they seem insistent on making it work somehow which is. sweet, and I do love that apparently it's become so important to not be separated from me for long, but I have a hard time trusting that as well due to uhhh our relationship history idk.

it's just. it's sweet and I should be over the moon but I can't share their optimism regarding making it work (I don't want fighting to happen bc I left my stuff lying around too much) and I can't fully trust the whole thing so now it's just them being excited and me being sort of a buzzkill and I'm not really sure how to. address. all of it

sorry this got long haha please don't feel obliged to answer or anything, and take care!

I think your feeling are totally reasonable. I’ve had a partner who would always say they were going to come over and then something always came up so I just… stopped hoping. It’s soul-crushing! I think it’s a reasonable boundary to say “listen this has been an issue in the past and every time you say you wanna move in and then back out even if you have your reasons and they are valid it still hurts me, even if it doesn’t have anything to do with me”. I’m lucky that my ex and I both had similar living styles so the idea was when we moved in together like we would function well. We pretty much already lived together on weekends, so we knew we worked out well. I think having someone stay at your place/stay at someone’s place for a few days is a great test to see how you guys live together. But yeah, as someone who is poly, I’ve always been adamant about the fact I would want my own bedroom in a polycule situation. For a lot of reasons I need my own space in a shared living area. Things like that aren’t easy, and I’m not going to say “it’s just about communicating” because while it is yes it also seems like “maybe your partner needs to work on not getting your hopes up about things like that only to back track” (aka you establishing that boundary).

[astriiformes]

uhhh your uhh last post kinda hit bc I’m someone who used to ID as aro (I only ID as ace now), but I have a crush on my best friend who I spend multiple hours with every day. sometimes even 12 hours with them in a row. and next year we’re going to live together with two other friends. they’re aro and I would indeed appreciate a qpp… but I’m so scared telling them about my romantic feelings might make them uncomfortable, because for me romantic feelings are the same level of obsession I feel for tv shows and such. I like the idea of being partners in whatever way that could mean for them and I’d never ever wanna do something to make them uncomfortable… would you happen to have any advice for this… if not that’s quite alright

So I can only offer so much advice because everyone is different, but I would definitely recommend talking to them about your feelings! If you genuinely would be interested in a queerplatonic relationship with them instead of a romantic one, even with how you feel about them, that's completely fair and appropriate to share with someone.

The two things I would recommend emphasizing are:

1) That you really do mean that what's important to you is the idea of being partners in whatever way that means to them. I think that's a very nice way of putting it and centers their feelings as an important part of your query

and 2) That even if they don't want a queerplatonic relationship, you sharing this is mostly to be honest and find out their thoughts, and you still want to remain friends with them no matter the answer. It's entirely possible that, even if you do everything "right" and they see you as a very dear friend, they just might not be interested in a qp relationship (same as any kind of relationship). Or they might want to approach it differently. I know that I personally am in a committed friendship/relationship I tend not to always refer to as queerplatonic because I am also extremely romance-repulsed and find I often don't like being called a "partner" in any sense -- but even then, practically, it still looks like living with a friend in a committed situation we intend to continue for the rest of our lives

I can't predict how your friend will feel about all this, but conceptually at least, queerplatonic relationships are absolutely not just for aromantic people, and in fact are a great route to explore when two people with some kind of "mismatch" in orientation are still interested in committing to each other in important ways. Even if your friend wants something different, so long as you assure them this doesn't have to change things between you if they don't want it to and that you are genuinely interested in sharing whatever kind of relationship they would be comfortable for them (a friendship, a queerplatonic relationship, or something more complicated), asking to find out how they feel about the idea is still okay.

And it might make them a little uncomfortable! It might be kind of awkward! These things can be messy without anyone doing anything wrong. But it sounds like they are very important to you, and you care about them and your friendship in ways that can be preserved with careful and committed communication about what your friend is comfortable with. So long as you center that, that's the core of any good relationship.

I hope that helps some? Again, obviously I cannot speak for all aromantic people -- or for your friend specifically -- but these are at least my own thoughts as an aro person and ones that I find ring true in relationships of all kinds. People are complicated! Relationships are complicated! There are so many weird ins and outs and inbetweens to them, and the platonic/romantic binary that society tries so hard to enforce is impractical and inauthentic to many people's experiences. If you keep in mind that, and the fact that you love your friend no matter what, I bet you can navigate this.

[awlwren-writes]

12 and 26 for OTP ask meme, CorNyx

12. Do they have many heated arguments? How do they smooth things over?

I think they have friendly arguments over incidental things, like food and proper sock wearing and Cor growing out his hair, and they have long-running threads in those arguments that they can pick up again at any time. But those are mainly superficial and silly, and for the most part they don't expect the other to change. (Cor does expect Nyx to get better about washing the dishes when he's by himself and not just doing it when someone is there to dry, and he has gotten a little better. Nyx has similarly worn him down about actually getting furniture and not just making stacks of books that function sort of like very precarious tables)

They also have very silent arguments about big things, like taking better care of themselves, some missions they've gone on, how much they can dictate each other's work and social lives (dragging the other to events, for instance, or disapproving of friends/acquaintances), etc. Those tend to start with a rational-ish argument and then the moment the first person yells they walk away and don't talk until someone is ready to concede or to admit that neither of them is going to budge. The time before that consists of them not talking to each other and just sort of working around each other. Early in their relationship that also consisted of returning to their own homes or alternate beds (in the office, etc), but once they've been through this a few times and have a more solid relationship, they come home and sleep in the same bed and cohabitate, but just in silence until they figure out where their lines are.

26. What are their vices?

Nyx likes going fast -- warping, driving -- seeking ever-higher heights, risk-taking (of course), wandering off to be alone (yes, this is a vice when the world is trying to kill you and people are wondering where you are), alcohol, sometimes obsessive exercise. Depending on the fic, sometimes sex. Falling in love very easily and hard (platonically and romantically), getting burned (through death or just mismatched levels of love) and doing it all over again. Generally easy going, but extremely petty when he's angry.

Cor likes to withdraw. He takes solitude as his default, and if no one goes in after him or he doesn't have a reason, can go weeks without truly talking with someone. When he does finally talk to someone, usually ends up weepy, which he hates. Also can fall into the obsessive exercise problem. And obsession in general. Can ride a self-righteous anger wave for a very long time once he gets going. Doesn't really understand his own personal budget, so swings between super frugal and overly extravagant on purchasing things. Loves music, never seeks it out himself, has to be dragged.

[tuanyiems]

Cookies and Cream

Yugyeom x Reader (f) fluff x smut words: 4k plot: annoyed by some (really just one) of your gratuitous “self-care” rituals, he decides to teach you a little lesson about indulgence, established relationship!au warnings – dom!gyeom, oral (f receiving), fingering, teasing, overstimulation, praise kink, squirting a/n – sorry for the delay, coincidentally I also had to work overtime for work this week lol now if only I had Gyeom too…but in other news, got7 is coming back in 3.5 more hours!!!!!!!!! I’m so excited y’all!!! // part of Le Chocolatier drabble series, which you can find the masterlist for in my blog. feel free to read this as a one-shot or part of the series, in any order you want <3

It’s 9PM on a Friday when you decide to turn off your work computer and call it quits. When you blink, the blue shadow of your screen still flickers behind your eyes and for the past two hours your right lid has been twitching every few minutes. When you stand up from your office chair, the world spins and you are briefly nauseated. You swallow down the feeling with a huff, throwing on your jacket and purse.

It’s quiet on your floor, everyone else having left already. It’s been like this the entire week ever since your project manager proposed a new venture and put you in charge of actually making it happen. Yugyeom tells you to just quit, but you figure it’s partially your fault too. You don’t know how to say no. 

So instead, you stop by the convenience store next door and buy yourself a couple of bath bombs. As an afterthought you throw in a box of Ferrero Rocher at checkout.

It’s another thirty minutes when you finally get home. Your whole body aches from being crouched at your desk. As you kick off your flats, Yugyeom greets you with a much too eager smile.

“Babe!” he exclaims, his black hair practically bouncing with every step towards you. “The boys are having game night tonight!”

You let out a yawn as you put your things down. “Sounds great, Gyeom, you go have fun.”

He let out a pout, “You don’t want to come with me?”

You answer with a tired smile and only grow even more weary when you see his infamous puppy dog eyes. “Gyeom,” you plead softly.

“I’ve barely seen you all week. Don’t you miss me?”

“Of course I missed you baby!” You pull him into your arms, nestling your face in his chest. You take a deep breath, his distinct warm bergamot tones filling your senses. You truly have missed him. Two years in and coming home to him every night still isn’t enough. Boy, are you in deep, huh?

“Then come with. Someone needs to put Bambam in his place. He bought a PC and suddenly thinks he’s a gamer,” you feel the rumble of his chest as he squeezes you closer.

And you feel your own resolve breaking the longer you stay in his arms, but when you blink, your eyes still sting from the strain of overuse and fatigue.

“But…I bought bath bombs.”

Yugyeom pulls away slightly and you offer up a weak smile. He knows you’ve been working hard this week. He assumed you would enjoy letting go and playing games for the rest of the night, so your rejection blindsides him. He was really looking forward to spending time with you and the guys. From above, he can see the bags under your eyes more clearly and you do look tired.

“Are you sure?” he offers up one final plea and you answer with a firm nod.

“Go and have fun for the both of us,” you assure, pulling away and heading towards your shared bedroom.

“Are you sure?” Yugyeom repeats, following after you like a shadow. “Want me to stay in with you?”

You chuckle, shaking your head as you pull out a pair of mismatched pajamas from your drawers. “Please, I don’t think I can handle all your energy right now.”

“Hey!”

“You are the love of my life,” You press a kiss to his frown and watch how easily the corner of his lips lift. “I love you, I love you, I love you, but please Gyeom, go out and have fun and I’ll enjoy myself at home and when you come back, I will welcome you into my arms and we can have the whole weekend together, just us. Okay?”

Seeing your exasperation, Yugyeom puckers his lips before breaking out into a boyish grin. “Oh alright! Go have fun with your bubble bath, I guess.”

“I will,” you press one last kiss to his lips before shooing him away.

It’s not long before you finally have the apartment to yourself. Humming, you slowly disrobe as you make your way to the minibar, breaking out a glass of wine. And just as you are about to sashay over to the bathroom, you pause and decide to take the whole bottle with you.

Impeccably timed, the water you left running is filled to the perfect level as you enter. Taking in a deep breath, you smile as you sip at your wine. The bath bomb you bought fizzes in the water, dispersing in the hot liquid in pastel purple and pinks, and fills the small room with the aroma of vanilla and lavender. For a convenience store bath bomb, it does its job perfectly, which is great because you honestly needed this one win for the week.

When you finally sink into the water, it feels like heaven on your aching muscles. For the first time in what feels like this entire week, you feel your shoulders untensing from the heat of the water.

You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath. 

And you almost fall asleep right there before you remember the chocolates sitting at the edge of the tub. Picking up one of the golden orbs, you bite at the curve of your lips and admire the crinkled foil before your eyes shift furtively to the bathroom door like a thief. Despite being alone in the apartment, you can’t help feeling like a child up to no good.

Yugyeom has a, well, disliking towards convenience store chocolates. He believes they dishonor the art of chocolate making with their “sick capitalist greed” (even though he happens to own a chocolate store). As a result, you very rarely ever ate chocolates that were not made by Yugyeom, himself, which was great because who doesn’t love free, expensive chocolates? But sometimes, you missed the taste of other chocolates.

Especially, Ferrero Rocher. Back in high school, these were your “expensive” desserts. Almost every month, they were your go-to treat whenever you were nursing your period pains and hormonal mood swings. When you entered adulthood and your self-care treatments became more expensive, so did your taste in chocolates.

But now, here you are, savoring the chocolatey, nutty flavor of convenience store goodness on your tongue while your lover is away like a wife with a dirty secret. Your life has come full circle.

You giggle, hand already tearing the wrapper off another piece before the taste of the first is even fully gone. Man, did you miss this flavor. If you could have it your way, you’d put Nutella in everything! The hazelnut spread was like crack! You make a mental note to buy yourself a jar on your next grocery run. 

With the delicious taste of hazelnut glazed over your tongue, you sink back into the tub and watch mindlessly as the pastel water swirls around you. 

Suddenly, the door creaks open and a hand pops through with your pink bra hanging by the strap on a finger. Yugyeom pushes open the door, revealing his amused face.

“So eager to kick me out that you left a whole trail of your clothes on the floor?” 

You smile up at him before sinking your lips into the water.

“And here I was thinking you’d be so lonely by yourself,” he pouts, setting your bra on the sink counter and approaching you.

You sit up straighter, lifting your head fully out of the water, as he gets closer. “I left a trail so you could find me.”

“Too late for your lame excuses,” he chuckles, sitting at the edge of the tub. His eyes follow your movements as you hug your legs closer to your chest. Most of your makeup has washed off, though the ghost of your eyeliner still tints the ends of your eyes, and though your lipstick has rubbed off, the inside of your lip is awkwardly wine stained. The ends of your hair are wet by the water and the strands stick to your skin in clumps.

And you are so beautiful. Not because you look particularly different in this moment, but because you look so real. It makes him think back to when the two of you first started dating. You had been so nervous, waking up early to put on makeup before he could see you and wearing lingerie every time he slept over. Back then, you’d even refrained from your regular self-care routines because you had been so worried he would think you were too high maintenance. 

But now, he is blessed to have you here, completely bare to him, literally and figuratively. All curled up in the tub, smiling up at him without an ounce of fear—it makes his insides all gooey. You do that to him.

The guys had given him a hard time about leaving game night early, but now that he’s here, he’s sure he made the right choice. 

“Babe,” your soft whisper breaks him out of his reverie. Your eyes brighten when he meets your gaze. “Wanna join me?”

Yugyeom closes his eyes, tilting his head up, and lets out a loud exhale. “You are perfect.”

You giggle, nose scrunching, until you hear the sound of crunching plastic. You watch, in slow motion, as Yugyeom’s gaze drops to the floor and the both of you freeze.

You blink up, swallowing. The residue of chocolate suddenly tastes sour in your mouth.

“Is that…” The words get caught in Yugyeom’s throat. But his silence feels worse when he’s staring at you with wide, accusatory eyes.

“Gyeom, I-I can explain!” the words come jumbling out of you in a rush, your mouth suddenly dry.

“You…You…In our house, babe?” 

“All the stores were closed by the time I left work. I just-I just wanted a quick snack!”

You feel like drowning in your own guilt when Yugyeom looks at you so sadly.

“You could’ve asked me to bring you home chocolates. Unless,” he pauses and a frown forms on his face, “you didn’t want to?”

You hurry to stand in the tub, water splashing from the sudden movement, but you don’t care. You twine your wet, raisined fingers between his.

“Baby, I love your chocolates! They’re my favorite, you know that,” you squeeze his fingers, ignoring the cold air around your bare skin. 

“Do I?” he sulks, looking back at the half-eaten tray of Ferrero Rocher.

You sway to the side, angling your body so your eyes meet his again. “I went into the convenience store to buy bath bombs and grabbed these chocolates at checkout as an afterthought. If I knew I was going to crave chocolates when I saw it, I really would have called you. But it was already late at night and I didn’t want to bother you.”

Yugyeom sighs. “You don’t have to explain yourself. You’re allowed to eat and love whatever you want…but just so you know, you’re never bothering me. I will make you chocolates even if it’s the middle of the night and you’re on the other side of the world.”

“Gyeom,” you pout, endeared by his words even as he’s saying it with a frown on his face. You press your palm to his cheek, guiding his lips to yours. “I love your chocolates, and I love you.”

Finally, Yugyeom smiles and you meet his with your own. It’s not long before he’s edging his tongue through the seam of your lips, tangling in your mouth. It’s been too long since you’ve been able to taste him on your lips like this. The quick morning kiss goodbye could only keep you going for so long.

You’ve missed this so much. You’ve missed him. How long has it been since the two of you had sex? A week? No, ten days? For the both of you, that was like an eternity.

You can feel your hunger stirring against the pliant muscle of Yugyeom’s tongue. You forget to breathe as he sucks at the bottom of your lip until it is red and swollen. It’s not until your lungs feel like they are burning that the both of you break away with heaving breaths.

Yugyeom makes a face of disgust despite the shine of your saliva on his lips. “You taste like that stupid generic crap.”

He kicks at the tray of chocolates on the floor and you giggle.

“I don’t know, Gyeom, it seemed like you were enjoying the taste,” you tease, tongue poking slyly out the corner of your lips.

It’s then that he realizes your bare state and a smirk replaces his frown.

“You wanna have a self-care night, right? Let me teach you something about self-care.” Without another word, Yugyeom taps twice at your thigh and like a trained puppy, you jump for him. Clinging to his neck, you wrap your wet legs around his waist and let him carry you into your bedroom.

You let out a squeak of surprise when he tosses you roughly onto the mattress.

“If you want to indulge, I’ll give you something to indulge in,” Yugyeom grabs at the bottom of his t-shirt and pulls it over his head before flinging it across the room. You watch with hungry eyes as his hands move down to his jeans, veins protruding up his arms as he undoes his button. You can’t help the disappointment that fills you when he stops there.

His brows arch at your expression. “Only good girls get rewarded, baby.”

“I’ll be good for you,” you plead, crawling to the edge of the bed to meet him. He cups your face in his large hands sweetly.

“You promise?” You nod eagerly, making him scoff at your desperation. “Good girls don’t break their promises, so keep that in mind.”

“I promise,” you breathe out as Yugyeom trails his fingers down your cheek before grabbing you sharply by the chin.

“I don’t know, kitten, it seemed like earlier you didn’t even want me in the house. Feels like you didn’t miss me at all.” Your eyes flicker up to meet his gaze, brows arching with concern. He points his nose in the air haughtily, but if experience has taught you anything, there was definitely a hint of hurt in his words.

You touch your fingers to his wrist softly. “I missed you so much,” you utter softly. And contrary to the gentleness of your voice, your gaze is strong and sure. It’s only when Yugyeom’s lips twitch into the slightest of smiles that you relax into his touch again.

He pinches your chin between his thumb, forcing your head to tilt back further. His eyes returning to their dark, demanding gaze. “What exactly did you miss so much, kitten?”

“Everything—your touch, your taste, the way you make me feel wanted and loved and safe and warm,” your eyes glaze over, conflicted between giving into your lust or your love, and feeling it all jumbling inside your gut. Both your chest and your core aches for him and it’s so apparent in the way your body seems to melt into the grip of his hand. “I miss feeling you inside me. No one else can make me feel that good.”

“Oh, I’ll make you feel good tonight, kitten,” he smirks, releasing your chin. “Spread out for me baby.”

As soon as he utters the command, you are rushing to the pillows. With your head sinking into the silk pillowcase, you open your legs wide for Yugyeom to admire. And he admires, taking his sweet time to follow you onto the bed, eyes glued to the heavenly sight of your cunt just absolutely glistening with lust for him.

His mouth waters just looking at you spread out for him. “Pretty pussy, so wet for me already.”

He trails his hands slowly up your inner thighs and you are practically vibrating, careening for more of his touch. Yugyeom smirks as he stares at your pussy. Even in his peripheral vision, he can already tell you’re on edge. Brushing two fingers up your wet pussy lips, he spreads your folds apart with the V of his fingers.

Your shaky inhale is audible, much to Yugyeom’s satisfaction.

“So impatient, kitten,” he chuckles darkly, enjoying the way your cunt clenches around nothing. He lifts his fingers off of you and raises it to his mouth. He watches you closely before releasing a low moan at your taste on his tongue. When you bite your bottom lip and watch him quietly, Yugyeom releases his fingers with a pop and lifts his brow. “You’re really trying to keep your promise, aren’t you?”

You nod fervently, making him laugh.

“Then as I promised, good girls get rewarded,” he smiles, a shine in his eyes that promises mischief.

With that, Yugyeom presses his two fingers back between your legs and you release a loud sigh at the feeling of his fingers stretching your walls. The ache is delicious and you find yourself whining a little too loudly at just his two fingers alone. You’ve been so wound up this entire week, the sudden stretch of his two fingers is almost overwhelming. Already, your walls are quivering around his digits.

You feel your cheeks heat, eyes diverting from Yugyeom’s gaze to the ceiling. When you hear his dark chuckles, you know he’s noticed too. You’re already so close, it’s embarrassing. When Yugyeom curls his fingers into your soft, velvety flesh, a moan releases from your throat as you feel a fluttering straight in your core.

It feels too good too fast and soon you are whining, palms flying to cover your face as the knot in your core tightens.

“Gyeom, wait, I-”

“Aw, is kitten going to cum already?” Yugyeom coos sadistically, fingers curling faster against your walls. “What’s the rush baby? I haven’t even tasted you properly.”

“Please,” you whine, tensing at your abdomen in a sorry attempt to fight off your orgasm. 

“Missed me that much, baby?” he laughs, feeling your walls squeeze against his digits.

“Yes!” you admit, feeling the telltale signs of your cunt contracting, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Your back arches off the bed as your orgasm hits you, making your body quiver with pleasure. Heat spreads across your limbs as you ride out your high. 

Yugyeom’s fingers continue to stroke against your pulsing walls as he watches you cum on his fingers. His smirk grows when you open your eyes again, looking at him with surprise. Your hands come to his wrist.

“B-babe,” you stutter, body shaking from his continued ministrations. “It’s too much.”

“Shh,” he strokes his fingers softly against the swell of your walls while his other hand gently lifts your hand from his wrist. “You can do this, kitten. Be a good girl for me.”

You swallow, letting his fingers intertwine with yours as a thrill runs down your spine. Finally, you give a small nod, and he smiles at you with crescent eyes.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers encouragingly. “You’re so beautiful when you cum, baby. Show me how you cum, okay?”

You nod, squeezing his hand as he presses a third finger into your sopping hole. As soon as you’re stretched by his third finger, you can already feel your core tightening. Your heart races in your chest as Yugyeom curls his fingers into you faster, chasing the delicious high that is just tipping you at the very edge.

You let out a whimper, eyes squeezing as your walls tighten around him for the second time. His fingers dig into the perfect spot inside of you over and over until you are exploding with pleasure. All thoughts leave you as your mind fills with hot white pleasure.

As you ride the aftershocks of your orgasm, the fog slowly lifts from your mind and you are relieved to find Yugyeom’s fingers have stopped moving inside you.

“You did so great, baby,” he praises you and you feel yourself glowing from his words.

And then you feel his fingers move again.

“Gyeom,” you whine weakly.

He chuckles, pulling his fingers out of you. He smiles, coming up to press a kiss to your lips. 

“You’re amazing, baby,” he whispers against your lips. “I love seeing you cum around my fingers.”

You pout, running your fingers through his hair. “Only for you.”

You feel him smile against you before he moves to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You can do one more for me, kitten,” he murmurs, breath tickling the shell of your ear. It makes you shiver, and he can already feel you arching into him. “I missed your taste, baby.”

At those words, you groan. God, you missed his tongue on you.

“That’s a yes, isn’t it?” he chuckles, brushing his wet fingers between your folds. You whine, nodding. “Such a good girl. I’ll make you feel good, I promise.”

“I know,” you exhale, already shivering from his touch. You watch him with hooded eyes as he smiles from your admittance.

Slowly, he makes his way back down your body, tickling your skin with butterfly kisses down your neck and sucking red bruises down the valley of your chest. Planting a sweet kiss to your mound, Yugyeom pulls away to blow air at your glistening folds, admiring the way you shiver at the sensation.

Finally, with eyes on you, he dips down and licks a stripe up your pussy. He smirks with satisfaction as your eyes flutter close. He taps your thigh, bringing your attention back to him.

“Eyes on me, kitten.”

You whimper, nodding, and you rise on your elbows, gaze fixed on him. Pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, Yugyeom gives you one last smile before pressing his lips around your clit. You suck in a breath as he laps at the bundle of nerves, rolling his tongue in intoxicating circles. His mouth feels so warm and soft around you, you can’t help the sigh of pleasure that escapes you.

“God,” you moan, feeling the tightening of your core once again.

Yugyeom answers you with the press of his fingers at your entrance again. You let out a loud moan, feeling your walls quiver at the familiar intrusion. Despite yourself, you find your body clenching around his digits. 

The room fills with your heavy panting and the loud squelch of his fingers thrusting into your sopping entrance. But you can barely hear anything, your brain buzzing from oversensitivity. It almost hurts, how good he makes you feel. When he groans around your clit, it sends vibrations straight to your tightening core.

“Gyeom!” you whine, eyes prickling with tears as he sucks harder.

Your legs shake out of control when he curls his fingers against your g-spot, sending you hurtling into another orgasm. A guttural wail of his name leaves your throat as you squeeze your eyes shut. Tears run down your cheeks as your head hits the pillow and you shake against the mattress, overwhelmed by the wave of pleasure erupting throughout you. Wave after wave of hot pleasure spreads across your skin and Yugyeom watches in awe as your pussy squirts all over him and down his bare chest.

“Fuck, baby!” He laughs when you finally come to. “You just squirted!”

You feel your cheeks heat as you look down at his wet body and the mess on the sheets. “I-I did,” you mutter, suddenly shy.

“Don’t get embarrassed on me now, kitten,” he smiles reassuringly at you. “That’s the hottest thing you’ve ever done, babe. I just want to eat you out forever now!”

You suck in a breath when he dips down and laps at your cum. You shiver at the sting of oversensitivity, pushing his head away. 

“Too much, Gyeom,” you whine weakly.

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your thigh before sitting back up. 

The smirk returns to his face as his eyes darken again. “Too much, kitten? But I’m just taking care of you. I know you love your self-care nights so much.”

Your eyes grow wide as you follow his hands. You swallow, seeing the bulge of his jeans. And despite having orgasmed the hardest you ever have just moments ago, you find your pussy clenching against air.

And the ache for your boyfriend returns, tenfold. 

A shiver runs down your spine as he presses his red, hard cock to your swollen pussy. A little indulgence never hurt anyone right? After all, you had a very rough week. 

[mr-entj]

Hi, Mr-Entj! Have been following your blog since my high school years, and I'm on my final year of university now. I hope you're well. I have a question for you: a few years ago, someone asked if you'd describe falling for your wife as "love at first sight." To which you replied that it was more of "soul recognition." May I ask: how far along into the relationship were you in before you realized that, and do you have any general advice on when it comes to the pacing/speed of relationships, and how to know if you're rushing?

Thank you so much! I hope you and the rest of your loved ones are safe. Your blog's really helped me throughout the past few years, and I find myself coming back here a lot (this is actually my 3rd ask!) :D

I hope you're well too.

To your question: we clicked instantly after the first conversation but I didn't know I wanted to marry her until we finally met in person and I confirmed my intuition. Keep in mind we were both in our late 20s/early 30s when we started our relationship and this accelerated how fast we moved. We both had already graduated from college (and graduate school), both had moved out of our family homes, both were deep in our careers, both were financially stable/independent, and both had significant relationship experience under our belts. We already knew the kind of qualities we wanted in a partner but also the kind of shit we weren’t willing to tolerate. We had a lot of data to make an informed decision about each other.

That's the key for relationship pacing: do I have enough empirical data to make an informed decision about this person's personality, qualities, habits, traits, and values? 

Not gut "feelings" or "vibes" but concrete evidence backed by a track record that supports it. If they say they’re ‘great with money’, then let’s open up finances. If they have a ‘strong work ethic’, then let’s see it in action. If they have ‘a lot of ambition’, then let’s see what they’ve attempted and accomplished in life. People often lie and misrepresent themselves to make the best impression so always check their words against their actions. It's less about exact number of days, weeks, or months, and more about the breadth and depth of information.

You’re rushing when you’re entering new phases of the relationship without being equipped with enough information to navigate them. For example, thinking of moving in together? You should ask about:

Financial responsibility: Do you know how the other person manages their money? Do they have good credit? Can they pay rent on time? How will you split the bills?

Lifestyle compatibility: Are they a night owl or an early bird? Are they clean? Are they loud? Will they have people stay over the place? Who will do the cooking? Cleaning? Do they smoke? Are you okay if they do?

Rushing would be signing a lease without knowing the answers to these questions, it’s effectively flying blind.

Beyond the realm of hard facts, always listen to your gut when it’s telling you something’s off. If there’s a mismatch in energy, pace, and boundaries, then pump the brakes and think things over. No one who truly cares for you should push you beyond your comfort level before you’re ready. 

Statistically speaking, you’re going to fuck up your first few relationships because you won’t know where those invisible lines are. I’ve been there, my wife has been there, and most everyone else reading this has been there too. You won’t get it perfectly right on the first try so don’t be too hard on yourself, but listen to your inner voice when it speaks to you.

[jimlingss]

I bawled while reading the end. It was an amazing fic and you will surely be missed! But I pray and hope that you continue to do great things and for your happiness. I do wonder though; what was your process for the fic? What made you chose jin as endgame/ the guy? How did you come up with the stories/ relationships with the guys? And how did to all the boys inspire you? I’m amazed and grateful for this fic as I am for all your work you posted in the past 5 years. Thank you for sharing your art with us. All the best! 💖

such fun questions!! I think I answered a few of these before but I'm queue-ing my asks up so you prob haven't seen them. I'm happy to answer again though!

The following information is a big spoiler alert!!!

Proceed with caution.......

I basically knew my time on tumblr had arrived back in October-November of 2020. I didn't have any good ideas anymore but I knew if I wanted to go, my last fic would have to be a banger! I would have to make my exit perfect!

I was thinking about writing my last fic on Jin because he was the first person I ever wrote for, so it's only right for him to be the last. I was also thinking maybe I should make it OT7. Or maybe both?

After brainstorming, I remembered I had an idea when I was watching To All The Boys I Loved Before. I thought that her love letters would each come true and she could choose in the end which guy she wanted to be with. Obviously the movie did not go in that direction, but I thought I could use that idea. And maybe the way I could explain this concept is through another character.....like the 'A Christmas Carol', a ghost from the future would visit her and take her through these timelines. and why not make that person Jin? win-win.

That's basically how the story came to be.

As to how I decided each member's stories, I basically fell into their most basic stereotypes in order to craft each timeline.

Yoongi's typically known as the cold guy. Can't tell you how many fics I've read about him where he neglects the main reader LMAO. so I decided to go with that route as well, but ofc our Yoongi is a swell, soft guy and in my eyes he seems like the reliable, responsible type (hence why he's in a lot of domestic!AUs as well, or at least for my fics), so I made sure to add that in and not neglect it.

all in all, I imagined Yoongi to be a stand-up guy who stands up for others even if he's outcasted but he doesn't care. quiet confidence. high morals. introverted. but also ambitious and hard working - which obviously came at a cost.

for Hoseok, I fell into his bubbly, radiant stereotype. Hoseok was honestly a tough one to give flaws too LOL (spoiler alert, he's my main guy in Seven Kinds of Love for a reason lol). We all know Hoseok is the happy type but he's also very considerate, responsible, calm, etc. There was a moment I was tempted to swap him out for Jin LOL. But I couldn't do it. He already got his time to shine in my other fic lmao. so after some consideration, I just decided to make him not very perceptive. + so very amazing and sunshine-like that our main character feels distant from him. as if they're worlds apart.

Namjoon is our academic. ofc. I did say I used their stereotypes and for him, it was just easy to envision him as the pursuer of education and knowledge. and I imagined our reader character to not exactly be as hardcore as him, so their mismatch came easily.

Jimin was a bit more interesting to think about. I was deciding if I wanted to make him fall into the best friend's brother trope or the roommate turned lover trope. I ended up going with the former and I ended up making poverty the main issue LOL. Just because I was doing a lot on personality mismatches (ie. Namjoon + Hoseok, and on some level Yoongi), so I wanted something different. I wanted a different sort of conflict. Something a bit more external and not exactly between them. Jimin's such a sweetheart too, the poverty situation just seemed fitting to make it pretty sad overall lol.

Taehyung is OBVIOUSLY our family guy. Dude loves kids clearly and I'm pretty sure he's talked about having a big family. So there it was. That was gonna be his story. Lots and lots of kids!! haha ngl from my perspective (the writer) I think OC would've had a swell time with Tae.

Jungkook's was a bit different. He was gonna be the last on the list so I honestly didn't give him a lot of limelight or time to shine. it's unfortunate but I had to prioritize the main storyline over his dazzling-ness lol. I decided to go with the bad boy type and he suits it nicely. the motorcycle, tattoo, tough guy that's really sweet inside.

I hope this wasn't an overload of info but it's always fun to discuss my thoughts and what I went through while I was planning :D thanks for asking!!

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 78

~*~Sebastian~*~

The sun shone brightly when we woke up. I made Emma coffee first and we sat at the bar with fruit and yogurt. I wasn’t particularly hungry. Nauseated, if I’m honest. Emma was going home today. Yes, it was only for a couple of days, but that wasn’t what the problem was. I was afraid of how I would feel when she left. We’ve been together almost a week. We said I love you. Went to a concert with her friends, planned a vacation with mine, and celebrated a month together. Everything is wonderful. I don’t know how it will be when she leaves. Will I be melodramatically sad, anxious, and insecure that while she’s away she’ll figure out she prefers to be without me, or when she leaves will I be glad to have my space back? Realistically, the panic is more likely to come when she leaves France and we’re apart for six weeks. Today’s just a preview.

Around noon Emma was ready to leave. She’d gone through the bags of new stuff and left what she wanted to take to France. No sense packing it home only to bring it back. Especially when she was dealing with her suitcase on the train. Early afternoon was the best time to get her back. I walked her downstairs to her Uber and stopped by the security office to find out where the parking garage was. The security guard walked outside with us and pointed to a keypad on a pole next to the building. I walked into the building hundreds of times and never really noticed the large panes of windows that matched my building was a garage door. The same code that worked on the outside door worked on the garage and my spot was the same as my apartment number. That’s easy.

The Uber driver took Emma’s suitcase and lifted it into the trunk while we said goodbye. “I love you and I’ll see you Thursday.”

Emma kissed me and patted my chest, “I’ll let you know when I’m home.”

“Thank you.” I’m always going to worry about her getting home safe. Can’t wait until there’s snow and she’s driving to work or worse, here. I kissed her again, told her I loved her and tucked her in the car. Stood on the sidewalk until she turned the corner too. Avoided going back upstairs by running across the street and getting a bottle of something. Didn’t really matter what. I wasn’t thirsty. Took a walk around the block to drink my bottle of whatever. Finally, throwing the bottle away in the garbage can at the end of the block, I headed back upstairs.

I walked in my door and stood there with my hands on my hips, waiting for something to happen. Everything looked the same. Felt the same. Not sure what I expected. The apartment wasn’t going to suddenly have a portal to hell open up in between the dining table and couch. If it happened, it would be in the guest bathroom. Maybe my closet. I checked both to be sure. Nope, no portals. What I did find in the master bath was a mauve lipstick kiss print on the mirror. It was at my eye level but on the edge close to the wall. I smiled, thinking how she would have had to crawl onto the counter to put it there. I imagined she’d get the same thrill when she found the notes I’d hidden at her place and school.

A little over two hours later my phone rang. The prettiest girl in the world was calling me, “Hello, beautiful.”

She grinned, “Hey, handsome.  I’m home.”

Emma turned her phone around to show me her family room. “I can see that. How was the trip?”

“Uneventful.”

“Perfect.”

“What have you been up to since I last saw you?” The lilt of curiosity in her voice was funny.

“I’ve been busy. Checking email and seeing everything has changed.”

“You’re very flexible.”

“Not nearly as flexible as you, my love.” We shared a dirty smile. “Now, we’re shooting in Paris instead of London. Which is convenient and doesn’t require a flight. And tonight I’m having dinner with a former spy.”

Her eyes lit up, “That sounds fun.”

“It does.”  I agreed. “I’ve been trying to schedule something with him for a while. Finally worked out. It will be good to get in person and ask questions about all the shit I’ve been reading and watching.”

“I’m excited for you. You can get the psychological emotional part down. I imagine in person makes it easier to internalize.”

Not that I doubted, but she’d been paying attention when I’d talked. Her interest in the how and why of the craft side was as enjoyable for me as it was her. I wanted to show her more. I wanted to know about how she taught too, how she knew what to do and how she designed lessons. Which reminded me, “Add me to your online classroom so I can watch you teach.” There’s the added bonus of pretty much having her “on demand” if I wanted to see and hear her. I had the video from the party with her, Eli, and Boone too. That would make a long night alone a little more . . . stimulating.

We didn’t talk long. I was having an early dinner to allow plenty of time to talk and I needed to shower and get ready. Emma needed to unpack and start gathering things to repack. There’s also the part about she’d just left.

Dinner lasted much later than I’d anticipated. It was awesome. Dan told me stories and let me pick his brain. I told him about my part in the movie and he was able to give me some specifics. Not that I’d play the part exactly as he’d said, but I knew what to avoid, what wasn’t realistic. I liked that because a complete mismatch with reality could put me into my head and that’s the last place I wanted to be.

The next morning I hit the gym and had a good workout. Mirrors everywhere told me I needed more than a little personal grooming before leaving. A haircut was already scheduled and I called the salon to add on what I thought I needed. I had lunch with my manager to go over the next few weeks. I don’t have a full time PR person, but I do have a firm with which I contract. Emily had been in contact with them. About my girlfriend. Amazing how fast my mood went from good to not.

“Seb, don’t make that face.”

“What face?”

“The annoyed one where you’re holding in a tirade.”

“I’m glad you recognize the precarious ground you’re standing on.” I drank the last of my wine and crossed my arms across my chest. “I’m going to sit here and be very quiet for a limited amount of time. Talk fast.” I don’t have many tirades. A big part of that is due to the relationship I have with Emily. She’s been with me forever. She knows when to push, when to back off, and when to let me have a tirade. Girlfriends are and always have been a tricky area. Usually, Emily wants me to be more open about a girlfriend. Much like what previous girlfriends wanted. That never turned out well for either of them. Emma was altogether in another class. I wasn’t sullen because I didn’t want to hear about what I should be doing. I was feeling protective and didn’t want business in my personal life. Same issue, different reasons.

“Everything is good. Emma is good. She doesn’t have much of a social media presence and hers is private. Family and friends sometimes tag her, but there’s nothing problematic out there. Once her name is out there she won’t be hard to find because you and several of your friends follow her. It’s a quick find that she’s a teacher, where she works, plays volleyball, has a twin, and has musician friends. She’s known by Pearl Jam fans. They’re protective of all the females in the band’s orbit. Best guess is anything negative is wiped quickly. We called Pearl Jam’s PR people and they’ve worked with her, so we don’t need to. Until something comes up and then we’ll probably have to work with you too. Unless you go silent again.”

I must have twitched.

Emily held her hands out like she was calming a wild animal. “Everyone’s a little concerned because you let Will post something. Oh, and any pictures of her in a bikini are always in a group.” She smiled comically and sat back.

“The ones she sends me are solos.”

“Good to know.”

I sat a second, my blood pressure dropping. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

I nodded and shrugged, “I told Will to post the picture. Don’t know exactly why. I’m happy. I’m in love. I’ve grown. Past is past and I’m moving to the future. All of them.”

“So, the comments and everything. You’re okay?”

“No, Emily, I’m wonderful.”

I waited until I got home to call Emma. She hit voice call. I pouted even though she couldn’t see. “I am at Target replenishing my travel supplies.”

“Sounds fun! Are you in for shampoo and leaving with three hundred dollars worth of who knows what?” Isn’t that the way it usually works at Target?

“I have a list. I’m staying away from parts of the store I don’t need to be in.”

“Smart. What time do you have to be at the court?”

“We’re going to meet for dinner about five. Game at seven.”

“Give Sam your phone so I can pack and watch.”

“I bet if you ask nicely she’ll alert you when something big is going on.”

“I’m a decent multitasker.”

“How was dinner with a spy?”

"Dinner with a spy was" I shook my head and looked up, "fascinating. Books, even non-fiction, and video are good, but watching his expression and mannerisms was so cool. Especially when he had neither." I went on talking while she shopped. She laughed and gasped at the same parts I had. I was excited to see how I could incorporate this new knowledge. We hung up when she was checking out.

~*~*~*~

"Sorry about the loss." I cringed to soften the blow. I knew she didn't like to lose. Who does?

Emma growled, "Frustrating. I want a chocolate brownie or something."

"I think the bakeries are closed." It was a little after ten. "I'll get you one tomorrow."

"You're the sweetest."

"When will you be here?"

"Well before lunchtime. I got everything packed before the game. I'll shower tonight. Get up and be on my way. Do you have plans?"

"Yes. Vanity kicked in. I have a facial and haircut, before therapy. Want a facial?"

"No seaweed."

"Damm, that's what I booked for you."

~*~*~

I spent the morning packing. I’m not a heavy packer. I’ll wear the same thing over and over. I’m working so costuming will be taking care of most of my clothes. I’m invited to the fashion show. Being dressed is part of the package. Emma and I had made a list of places we wanted to see and things we wanted to do while in Paris. I composed an email and sent it on to the hotel’s concierge. I heard back almost immediately. They would create an itinerary and we could adjust it once we arrived. Perfect.

Emma would be back about noon. Our spa treatments and my haircut were set for three and my therapy appointment was around five. I cleaned up around the place. Nothing drastic. I had a cleaning service come in after I go away. I just make sure everything’s put away.  I had my suitcase closed and in the dining area when my text notification went off.

Emma ~ Are you home?

Sebastian ~ Yes.

Emma ~ Alone?

Sebastian ~ Yes.

 I am sensing something is about to happen.

Emma ~ When I get there would you like to play a game?

Sebastian ~ Yes.

 I neither know nor care what she’s talking about. It would be nice to know what I’m going to be playing, though.

Sebastian ~ Could I get more details?

Emma ~ Porn

Sebastian ~ You want to watch porn?

Emma ~ Pretend we're in one. Over the top, things that only work in porn, excessive moaning, name calling, filthy talk porn.

 Fuck. I’ve watched enough porn to know how this was going to go.

Sebastian ~ Yes, I would like to play.

Emma ~ I never doubted you.

Sebastian ~ Are you texting and driving?

Emma ~ Traffic and voice to text. Delivery girl, booty call, escort? Me. This time.

Sebastian ~ I don't know yet.

Emma ~ Text when you do.

Sebastian ~ I love you.

Emma ~ I love you.

 Woman has been away for forty-eight hours and shows back up with this shit. I wasn't a sex-starved horn dog five minutes ago. I wonder what she's wearing? Delivery girl, booty call, escort. I like her choices. I have to seduce the delivery girl. Or be seduced. Booty call would be a repeat. Familiarity without expectations. There are zero expectations with an escort. Well, there are expectations, but only mine. I feel like it's a question of how selfish I want to be and what questions I want to answer after. Booty call it is!

I texted her my choice and that the door would be unlocked. I sat in the chair to wait. Patiently.

[steviatea]

hey, if you’re still taking requests i’d love to read anything kim/lydia!!!! can’t get the two of them out of my head

Oh my god, you have no idea how much I smiled when I received this! Kim/Lydia is honestly my OTP, rare as the pairing is. :’) I’ve written some soft hurt/comfort stuff for you! Thank you for the request!

Here’s the AO3 link if you’d prefer to read there~ 💕

There are numerous things that Kim notices about Lydia in their time together, such as the way that Lydia stirs her stevia into her tea, or the fact that she’ll occasionally wear mismatched shoes, or even how she idly takes Kim’s hand into her own when they’re sitting beside each other, playing with Kim’s fingers for a change instead of anxiously fidgeting with her own.

Kim learns that Lydia never drinks coffee, only tea, and when told that tea isn’t available at a restaurant, she tends to behave as if she’s been personally insulted. Kim likes to hold her hand in these times, a little bit of comfort, and she can tell that Lydia appreciates it by the way that the stress upon her face softens to grateful appreciation.

She notices that Lydia loves to wear the same shades of blue that Kim does, and that she’s an avid enthusiast when it comes to talking about the routes trains move in, and the transportation and shipments she manages at Madrigal Electromotive. Kim particularly enjoys the way Lydia smiles when she rambles about things that Kim has next to no knowledge on, nevertheless appreciating how cute it is when she gets enthusiastic.

Kim additionally observes that Lydia is a dedicated mother, and that she adores her daughter Kiira with every bit of her heart. It’s endearing to watch the two together, and even more heartwarming when Kim herself gets to join in on their family activities. Movie nights with animated movies. Finding Nemo is Kiira’s favorite, and Kim’s already seen it several times through spending time with Lydia and her daughter. It’s even more heartwarming to Kim on a personal level whenever Kim comes over to Lydia’s house and Kiira herself is excited to see her.

She’s come to learn little details about her relationship with Lydia through talks with her daughter. It’s adorable to hear validating little things from the perspective of a child: “Mommy always smiles when she talks about you.”

Then, there are the little things that Lydia does — little behaviors that don’t directly impact her relationship at all, but things that Kim finds endearing to watch, like the way that Lydia plays with things with her hands when not picking at her nails or fidgeting nervously. The way she plays with stevia packets, the way she brings those little packages to restaurants whenever they go on dates. Kim isn’t a fan of the sweetener herself; she’s full-on happy with sugar alone, but she supports her girlfriend and her passion for the alternative sweetener.

It’s the little things about Lydia that Kim has come to adore.

She also discovers that Lydia cries like she’s practiced in the art of hiding it from others — this is something that Kim notices when she awakens one night, pulled from her dreams by the sound of weeping so quiet that Kim might have otherwise slept through it, had she not been a light enough sleeper. It’s a sorrowfully soft sound, hushed and suppressed as crying could grt, but easy enough to hear in the stillness of the night within Lydia’s otherwise quiet bedroom. Hearing her in such a state is deeply troubling to Kim; she’s certain she’s never heard her girlfriend cry before.

Sharing the bed with Lydia, Kim naturally has to do something — she can’t simply go without taking action. Lydia’s facing away from Kim, laying on her side and likely unaware that Kim isn’t any longer sleeping. Reaching over, Kim’s fingers gently brush over the younger woman’s shoulder, her voice a groggy murmur when she speaks. “Hey, is everything okay?”

Even the lightest of touches causes Lydia to startle, flinching upon being touched. She quickly turns over, the widened whites of her eyes visible enough in the darkness to show the clearly startled expression upon her face. She breathes quickly, on the verge of a panic attack, but recognition sets in shortly thereafter. “Oh, god — Kim?” Her words are strained, nose stuffy from crying.

“Yeah, it’s just me,” Kim reassures her, sleepily resting her hand upon Lydia’s arm. Certainly, she hadn’t meant to scare nor startle her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Lydia takes a shaky breath, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffling. “It’s… it’s okay,” she manages to stammer out in response, though her rapid breathing suggests otherwise. “I just didn’t expect you to wake up,” she adds, lowered to a hoarse whisper, her words carrying a desolate sound about them when she speaks between unsteady breaths. 

“Let me get you a tissue,” Kim tells her in a gentle, albeit somewhat groggy tone as she reaches over to Lydia’s night-stand, feeling around for a tissue box she knows is there before successfully grabbing one.

Lydia accepts the tissue with a murmured, “Thank you.” The noise that she makes when blowing her nose directly contrasts the uptight yet graceful attitude she’d keep about herself during the day. She’s the opposite of fancy, in the state she’s in now; hair rustled and no longer meticulously straightened or pulled-back in a tight bun. There’s something that Kim finds adorable about her in the middle of the night, though, in pajamas and comfortable clothes. Setting the tissue aside, Lydia adds, “I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“No, no. Don’t worry about it. It’s totally fine,” Kim says, and though it’s hard to keep the sleepiness from her voice and overall disposition, she still instinctively fusses over Lydia, Kim rubs her hand along the other woman’s arm in what she can only hope is a soothing, comforting manner. “I can always sleep more later, I’m just worried about you. What’s going on?”

“Nothing, really,” Lydia croaks in a weak little voice, immediately dodging the subject. She’s wordless for the next few passing moments, sniffling and shuddering enough that Kim could feel the vibrations in the bed springs below them. Kim could guess that Lydia’s not accustomed to talking in-depth about her feelings like this — in fact, she seems almost afraid to do so at the moment.

“Are you sure?” Kim’s mind, though a little slow to start due to just having woken up, is already heading toward self-doubt and insecurity of her own. Her and Lydia haven’t had any major arguments yet in their relationship, but it’s an unfortunate response to her own personal past trauma that she internally runs through all of the self-doubt: She’s upset because of me. I did something wrong.

So, Kim decides to ask quite drowsily, “Did I say something wrong earlier, do something to upset you?” She can’t even remember what conversations they’d had before bed, but she nevertheless wants to know if she’s done something wrong so she can correct her own errors. “I don’t mean to make this about me, or anything, but if I did do something wrong—“

“No,” Lydia is quick to interrupt her, but then she elaborates more carefully afterwards, adding, “Of course not, Kim. I swear, that’s not it. You… you haven’t done anything wrong at all. It’s not you, by any means.” Her response sounds like an honest attempt to sound reassuring, but the way her voice cracks as she gets the words out is just heartbreaking. “No, it’s just… it’s just nightmares.”

Kim can feel a sympathetic stirring within her chest, an empathetic ache for her lover’s sorrow and pain, though she does not know what has brought up such vulnerable emotions. “Come here,” Kim murmurs, rolling onto her back and patting the bed immediately beside her. “Let me hold you.”

Kim welcomes Lydia with open arms when she sidles up to her, vulnerable as ever. She can feel Lydia’s body shaking as softly weeps, her breathing noticeably erratic as it would be during panic. Of course, Kim holds her close without any hesitation, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and idly running her fingers through her long, silky hair. It’s times like this that she wishes she had the words to say more comforting things, but that’s where things like touch come in handy, perhaps. It’s moments before Kim speaks to her again, and she does so in a way that’s compassionate, doting even — her words are chosen carefully, a deliberate expression of love in the caring tone she uses.

“What was the nightmare about? You can talk to me about it, if you want to.”

There’s hesitation before Lydia responds, and she looks up to Kim with apprehension in her eyes, like she fears judgment over talking about her nightmare. “I was a young girl again, and I was back in the group home I grew up in. It’s like I was trapped. The girls I roomed with were attacking me for… I don’t even know what, but they hated me and wanted me dead,” Lydia murmurs with tears in her eyes. Leaning the weight of her petit form against Kim, she lets out a quivering sigh, continuing, “I know that probably sounds stupid. I… I don’t tend to talk to people about these sorts of things. Not ever.”

Eyebrows furrowing, Kim’s quick to shake her head, tenderly running her fingers through Lydia’s hair. “Hey, that’s not stupid at all. I mean, I can’t even imagine how shitty that must’ve been for you.”

Lydia sighs, her hands idly playing with the fabric of Kim’s pajama shirt; it’s an old shirt left over from college that’s been worn so many times that it’s ideal for sleeping in. It seems that Lydia quite likes the texture of the shirt as well, bunching the end of the shirt up in her small fist while she continues. “God, it was the worst place I’ve ever been, to this day. The staff was so strict, and all of the girls there were so cruel. I never made a single friend in that place — not permanently, at least. Everyone I got along with eventually got foster homes. I never did. I don’t know why, but I just wasn’t desirable enough to be a foster kid.”

“I’m so sorry. That must’ve been horrible, growing up in a place like that.” There had been a few times where Kim’s mother had skirted dangerously close to losing custody of Kim, being drunk as she’d been — she’d never ended up in the system, though. She never experienced anything like what Lydia’s been through, and even without hearing the details Kim is able to surmise that it was traumatic for Lydia. “Did you spend your whole childhood there?”

“Essentially” Lydia replies softly, her breathing somewhat stable now that she’s gotten into the rhythm of conversation. She’s still quite apprehensive, though, and it’s evident when she speaks. adding, “I was a smart kid. I don’t mean to brag, of course, but I was able to finish high school early and get a scholarship, and I left when I was seventeen. I never turned back.”

Kim leans in closer, placing a tender kiss upon Lydia’s forehead. “I’m glad you’re out of there now,” she says. “

“Thank you. I know it’s been years since I was in that situation, but I guess my subconscious just loves reminding me of how horrible my childhood was,” Lydia replies, sniffling and shuddering. She clings to Kim tightly, as if she’s afraid her lover might disappear if she were to let go. “I really didn’t mean to wake you up. I feel like such an asshole.”

“You certainly aren’t an asshole,” Kim reassures her.

Lydia adjusts her position in bed, shifting so that she’s face-to-face with Kim. She kisses her with soft lips, affectionately short and sweet. “I’m so glad you’re here right now. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she says, and being so close to one another, Kim can feel Lydia’s body beginning to relax somewhat when she continues to speak. “Thank you for spending the night with me.”

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be,” Kim tells her, and she means it.

[phoenix-downer]

Thanks for Waiting Chapter 1/2

For Rikunami Day 2019. Chapter 1 will be posted today, and chapter 2 will be posted next Monday. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Length: ~3300 words

Summary: Riku and Naminé are an unlikely duo working towards a common goal: helping Sora. But as they spend more and more time together, they start to question if they’re doing the right thing. It’s easier to focus on that than on what might be happening between them. After all, a Nobody doesn’t have feelings of her own, and a human wouldn’t fall for a Nobody… right?

Characters: Naminé, Riku

Relationships: Riku/Naminé

Additional Info: Romance, Friendship, Angst, Mutual Pining, (Mostly) Canon Compliant, Missing Scene(s)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Naminé rubbed her eyes, then picked up the pencil and continued her work. This memory was an old one; Sora wore a white shirt with red pants, and there was a light shining in his hands. It was one of those memories he probably didn’t even remember, but it was a part of his heart all the same and needed to get put back together. 

“Naminé? You’re still awake?”

Naminé looked up from her sketchbook. A figure wearing a black coat and a blindfold had entered her little sanctuary, a blank white room with drawings of Sora’s memories attached to the walls. 

“Oh, hello Riku,” she said as she turned her attention back to her drawing. “I take it our hideout is still safe?”

Riku took a seat at the opposite end of the table from her. “For now,” he said with a sigh. His silver hair was getting long, including his bangs. Between that and the blindfold, Naminé wasn’t sure how he could even see anything.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” she asked. 

“I guess. I just… don’t feel like I’m doing anything.”

“Well, there’s not much you can do right now other than stand guard over Sora. And it’s an important job. His life is in our hands.” 

He rested his head in his hands. “That’s just it. After what I did, I don’t know how I’m gonna face him when he wakes up.”

“Well,” Naminé said as she put her pencil down, “if it makes you feel any better, there are plenty of good memories of the two of you together. And Sora forgave me for trying to replace Kairi. He wasn’t happy about it, but he didn’t hold it against me. If he can forgive me, he can forgive you too.”

Riku was silent, and Naminé stole a glance at his face. With his eyes covered, it was harder to get a read on what he was feeling, but not impossible. 

“Riku,” she said softly, and he lifted his head. “I think you’re being harder on yourself than anyone else is.”

“I could say the same about you. How long have you been working on Sora’s memories without a break?”

She pursed her lips. “That’s different. I have to make it up to him. I have to fix my mistakes. With each day that goes by, he’s apart from his friends for that much longer.”

He sat back in his chair. “And how is what you’re doing any different from what I’m doing?”

“It’s not,” Naminé finally admitted.

His lips twitched, ever so slightly, and for a moment Naminé caught a glimpse of the Riku Sora and Kairi must know.

“Listen to us,” he said. “Two people bumbling around, trying to atone for what we’ve done but probably doing more damage in the process. What a pair we make.”

Naminé stilled at that. “I’m not a person the way you are, Riku. I’m not… human. I’m just a Nobody. Kairi’s shadow.”

He said nothing for a long time, and she picked up her pencil again and continued. When he stood, she glanced up at him one last time. 

“Goodnight, Riku.”

“Goodnight, Naminé.”

With that, he stole out of the room as quickly as he’d entered it. The only sound left was the scratching of pencil against paper.

The more Naminé spread her drawings of Sora’s memories across the walls and tables of this lonely room, the emptier Naminé felt inside. Like she was pouring everything into those drawings until there was nothing left. She set her pencil down, the drawing of Sora as a child finally finished, and rested her head in her hands.

His memories mocked her. They were always waiting for her as soon as she closed her eyes. Reminding her of the life she could never have. It didn’t matter that Sora had promised to be her friend. Once he woke up, he wouldn’t even know who she was. She was alone again. 

Riku was trying, he really was. But a human like him couldn’t understand what it felt like to know you were never meant to exist. That you were a mistake, an accident. Naminé could hardly blame him for thinking that way. She and Roxas and Xion were all just fakes, and he and Sora and Kairi were the real ones. The humans. The ones with actual hearts. And even though Roxas and Xion were never meant to exist, either, they still had Axel. Who did she have?

No one. Sora had chosen Kairi over her. Riku wanted his friend back, and so did Kairi, even though she couldn’t remember his name. 

There was one person who had wanted to be with her. The Riku Replica. But he was gone now, and his feelings had been fake. Given to him so Marluxia could manipulate Sora. Given to him so she could toy with him and break him. No one had ever cared for her out of their own free will. 

What she wouldn’t give just to have that, for once. But she could never ask for it, for if she did, she would simply ensure the same thing would happen again. Love without a choice was not love at all. 

When she left the white room for the night, a shudder went down her spine. How could a Nobody like her be haunted by ghosts of memories that weren’t even her own? 

But it didn’t matter. Her time was limited. In the end, she would have to return to her Other, just like every other Nobody did in the end.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Riku sighed as he sank into his creaky bed that night. The Old Mansion was hardly a nice place to live, but somehow it was still less creepy than living in Maleficent’s lonely old castle with its big empty room back on Hollow Bastion.

Being away from Sora and Kairi was hard. But it wasn’t their fault Riku was currently in this mess, struggling with his darkness as he tried to fix his mistakes. And Sora wouldn’t wake up unless he went to questionable lengths to get his friend back. 

His thoughts wandered to his task at hand. Sure, DiZ kept saying Roxas and Xion and Naminé weren’t real people. But if that was true… why did Xion have a face now? A face that looked like Kairi’s? And why did Roxas seem so much like Sora? Why was Riku reminded so much of his friend when he saw him?

And Naminé. Naminé, with her gentle smile and earnest manner. Naminé, who was just as determined to atone for her mistakes as Riku was for his. How were the two of them any different, really? Why was it that he was human and she was a Nobody? Did it even really matter?

Yes, it did, because if he accepted Naminé had a heart, then he’d have to accept Roxas and Xion did, too, and he couldn’t do that. Couldn’t do that and still bring Sora back.

DiZ was right. Nobodies and Replicas weren’t real people. They were just fakes with fake hearts, and no amount of wishing would ever change that. 

But as Riku fell asleep, Naminé’s face was in his thoughts, and a part of him wished he was wrong.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Naminé woke up the next morning, faint smells were coming from the direction of the mansion’s kitchen. 

Curious. Usually she was the one who did the cooking. Riku was in and out too much to be a reliable cook, and DiZ had probably never made anything more complicated than a sandwich in his entire life. 

She had no clothes but her white dress, so she slipped it on now and folded the oversized Twilight Town t-shirt that was her nightgown in a neat pile on her creaky old bed. She’d managed to snatch it when no one was looking, because Diz didn’t think a Nobody like her need worry about things like clothes or even food.

But her body, faint and ethereal as it was, still needed sustenance of some kind. She had made do by scrounging around in the woods near the mansion or snatching scraps from food stalls in town until Riku put a stop to that and started bringing back actual groceries for her to cook with.

Taking the stairs as quietly as possible, she made her way down to the kitchen. The smells drifting to her nose triggered Kairi’s memories of other mornings spent with Riku and Sora, mixing batter and adding in chocolate chips.  

Sure enough, Riku was hunched over the stove with a metal spatula in his hand. The stove had been a little too short for him before, but after his recent growth spurt, it was comically so. 

“Good morning,” she said as she peered over his shoulder. A plate of pancakes was next to the stove, and he scooped the latest one off the skillet and dumped it on top of the pile.

“Morning,” he replied. “Pancakes are about the only thing I know how to make, so I figured I’d take over cooking duty for once. Grab yourself a few and take a seat. Syrup’s already on the table.”

“Thank you.” She found a chipped but clean plate to use, along with a mismatching fork and knife, and took a seat on one of the creaky old chairs. Miracle of miracles, the table didn’t wobble as she set her plate down, and she gave Riku a curious look.

“I tried to stabilize it this morning,” he explained as he brought the remaining pancakes over along with another clean plate and took a seat. She watched as he poured syrup over his stack of pancakes, leaving a few for DiZ. 

So that was what you did with the syrup. She copied him and then tried a bite. The pancakes were warm and fluffy, and the syrup was just the right level of sweetness.

“These are really good, Riku. Thank you.”

“Yeah, well, you can thank Kairi. She’s the one who taught me how to make them.”

But of course. Riku wouldn’t make them for her sake; he was making them because he missed Kairi. 

“I hope I get to meet her soon,” she said. Well, more like she knew she would, she just wanted to talk to Kairi before she merged with her.

“She’d like you,” Riku said. Not a question, a matter-of-fact statement.

“She would? Even after I made Sora forget her?”

“She’s not the kind of person who holds things against other people.”

“Why don’t you go see her then?”

Riku sighed. “I can’t. Not without Sora.”

Naminé didn’t know what to say to him. What she wouldn’t give to have real actual friends of her own. He had friends who cared deeply about him, and yet he wouldn’t even talk to them.

“Well,” she said at last, “I hope the three of you can be together again soon.” 

He coughed and quickly changed the subject. “What will you do, when all of this is over?”

“I suppose the same fate that befalls all Nobodies will befall me eventually. I’ll return to Kairi like I’m supposed to.”

He was silent for a while, then finally replied, “Doesn’t that make you sad?”

She shrugged. “I don’t have a heart, remember? So I can’t really be sad about it.”

But Riku’s head drooped, and she had the curious thought that perhaps he was sad for her.

No, that was impossible. Humans didn’t feel any empathy for Nobodies. How could they, when Nobodies were just empty husks masquerading as people?

She couldn’t let Riku get attached. That would just lead to heartache for him and make it harder to do what had to be done. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Naminé sat in the white room, staring blankly out the window at the courtyard below and the woods beyond that. Xion had made her promise to look after Roxas, and… 

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

She glanced at Riku, who must’ve entered the room without her noticing. His eyes were still covered, but she didn’t need to see them to sense something was on his mind, too.

“I don’t know why,” she said, “but something about this feels wrong. I know I’m not supposed to be able to feel, and yet… I can’t help but wonder… are we really doing the right thing, Riku?”

He didn’t answer her for a few moments as her question hung in the air. Was he having a crisis of conscience over what they were doing? Was it possible he felt guilty? Ashamed?

But this was all to help Sora. That was what mattered, right?

“Right or wrong, Xion made up her mind in the end,” he said at last, his voice heavy. “There was no stopping her.”

“You’re sad for her?” 

Riku didn’t reply; he just sat down and stared at the drawings on the wall. As the memories of Xion faded one by one despite her attempts to cling to them, Naminé couldn’t help but wonder. Would anyone remember her after she’d returned to Kairi? Or would she just fade away? Would everyone forget her like Sora had forgotten her, or would someone, anyone, remember her? Would she become a part of Kairi, or would she… 

She shook her head. Roxas. She was supposed to look after Roxas, for some reason. 

Riku stood and walked to the door. 

“Where are you going?” she asked. 

“Xion… I’m supposed to… face Roxas.”

With that, he was gone, and so were the last memories of… 

That was the thing about memories fading. Once they were gone, they were gone for good. Hoping that someone would remember her after she returned to Kairi was pointless. She was doomed to be forgotten in the end, just like every other Nobody. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Diz’s secret basement laboratory, with its blue glowing lights and creepy monitors, was usually somewhere Naminé merely passed through when she wanted to visit Sora. But someone had entered the Old Mansion and was in the lab now, and she wanted to know what was going on. Otherwise she’d never find out, as Diz wasn’t going to tell her otherwise. 

She took the steps one by one, clutching her sketchbook to her chest as she peered down. What she saw at the bottom of the stairs made her breath catch. 

A tall figure was there, dragging an unconscious Roxas along with one arm as it favored the other. Her promise to help Roxas rang clear through her head, and she cast her sketchbook aside and addressed the figure.

“Who are you?”

“Naminé, it’s me.”

She gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth. “Riku?”

Sure enough, the memories were his. His heart was his. But his appearance was not. He… he looked like Ansem now. Like his own worst enemy. He still wore a black coat, but he was taller and bulkier than he should be. His hair wasn’t messy anymore, either; it was perfectly smooth, and he was no longer blindfolded. Instead of the beautiful green eyes she had come to expect, golden ones stared back at her.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, averting his gaze. “But I had to do this to defeat Roxas.”

Naminé’s lower lip trembled as she looked from Riku to Roxas back to Riku. How was this right? How was any of this right? Why had Riku transformed? And why did Roxas have to be sacrificed? Why did bringing Sora back have such a high cost? She didn’t know helping him would… would—

Her eyes rested on the unconscious Roxas once more. Maybe she and Roxas weren’t human, but surely they didn’t deserve to just—

“I see you’ve brought Roxas back,” Diz said, and Naminé stiffened at the sound of his voice. “Place him over there. The digital Twilight Town is ready.”

Riku moved to do as Diz asked, and Diz turned his attention to her.

“Naminé, now that we have Roxas, you must make haste. The Organization will begin searching for us.”

“Of course.” 

She still owed it to Sora to put the rest of his memories back together. She’d promised.

But… she could at least comfort Roxas in his final few days of life. It was the least she could do for him, for the only person left who might understand. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Dispose of Naminé.”

DiZ’s command to Riku rang through his head as he listened to Axel and Naminé speak to each other. And then Axel brought up the elephant in the room, the reason why Riku had come to  Sunset Hill overlooking the real Twilight Town in the first place. 

“DiZ? Wants to get rid of me?” Naminé asked. Her voice wasn’t angry or accusatory, just sad and a little surprised. She stared at the sketchpad in her hands. “Well, I suppose it makes sense. He doesn’t want a Nobody with powers as dangerous as mine around.” She looked up at him, and her eyes were heavy. “I don’t blame you, Riku.”

As he stared at her, he thought of all the days they’d spent together over the past few months. Thought of how she’d treated him kindly, even after he’d taken on Ansem’s form. Thought of how she’d smiled when he’d made pancakes for her. Thought of how she always knew just what to say as well as when to be silent. Thought of how upset she’d been over Roxas’s fate. How she’d defied even DiZ’s orders after she’d cooperated with him for so long. And why? 

That was when it hit Riku. She was lonely. She was trying to bond with the only person she thought might understand her. If she really didn’t have a heart, then why was she trying so hard to connect with someone else?

DiZ was wrong. Riku had made a terrible mistake. Naminé had a heart. Roxas did too. Maybe even Axel as well. And even though it was too late to help Roxas now, he could still do something for Naminé. He could still show mercy on Axel.

“Go,” he told them, and Naminé’s eyes went wide and her lips parted. “I owe you both,” he explained after Axel questioned him. What he didn’t say was that a part of him couldn’t bear to see Naminé dead. Couldn’t bear the thought of her not existing anymore. 

“Thank you,” was all she said after a few moments, but it was all she had to say. He watched as she disappeared inside the portal Axel had opened. Now he was the one defying orders, but he didn’t care. She was gone, but at least this way, she might be safe. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Naminé merged with Kairi, she realized at long last the truth that had been staring her in the face: she did have a heart of her own, a will of her own, a mind of her own. 

While she was glad that she continued to exist at all, a part of her still wished that she could feel the breeze on her skin again, the sunshine beaming down on her face. Wished she could talk to Roxas and Kairi and Sora face to face again. Wished she could see Riku again—

She caught herself. Where had that thought come from? Strange, unbidden, and yet… here to stay. The more she tried not to think about Riku, the more she thought about him. Thought about his wry humor and dry wit and teasing smiles. Why had he spared her? Was it really because of guilt, or could it be something more?

No, it had to be guilt. There was no other explanation. He felt bad about what he’d done to Roxas, and this had been his way of making up for it. 

There was no way he felt anything for her. None at all. And that was how it should be. She might be her own person, but she had no hope of being distinct from Kairi ever again.

Did she?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write something that delved into Riku and Naminé’s bond in more detail, as well as what might have happened behind the scenes during those moments the games can’t include because of time and budget restraints. This chapter covered the material leading up to KH3, and next week’s chapter will cover KH3 itself. Hope you enjoyed!

[booksoanahasread]

When Dimple Met Rishi by Sandhya Menon

I guess that the majority of readers sometimes hit a point where they don’t want to continue reading the same genre for the next couple of days. I’d read basically only fantasy since about the half of December onward. I have quite a few more fantasy books left on my shelf that I have to get to, but none of them made me want to read. So I downloaded an eBook and chose When Dimple Met Rishi, thinking I knew something about it, having watched the Mismatched series on Netflix. 

I think that was more than enough backstory. I loved this book wholeheartedly, it was funny and sweet and so much more. The plot was actually really nicely written and the characters were so thoroughly described as three dimensional. It was a light read that forces you to remember everything you love about reading: not wanting to put the book down, forgetting about other responsibilities, and escaping the confines of your world.

The author is phenomenal, her writing is wonderful and concise. I love the fact that she didn’t really take ages to describe things, especially from Dimple’s perspective. I love how she gives her characters the motivation to do what they should accomplish. The wit in this novel is amazing and it can make you laugh so hard that you remember that your parents are sleeping. 

I loved the whole ‘arranged marriage’ trope, it was perfectly structured and well-thought out. I know that this is something that still happens in some cultures, so I find it truly fascinating and on some level understandable. The way the story plays out somehow diminishes the so-called necessity for the marriage, but even so, its implications are still felt throughout the novel. 

Dimple is one of the most headstrong characters I’ve met and I love her for that. She’s strong, she knows what she wants, and she’s incredibly intelligent.  I find her absolutely adorable and her determination to win the Insomnia Con was beyond anyone’s possible perception. Being the naturally curious person she is, in the novel describes herself : “Dimple found herself questioning them -- and really, everything -- all the time. Mamma often lamented that her first word had been <<why>>.” In this quote we can clearly see the differences between Dimple and her mother, but also the natural inquisitiveness that she has. 

I found her relationship with her mother rather interesting and intriguing. It was crystal clear that they both loved each other, but they seemed to be not only on different pages, but probably in different libraries. When they finally have a deep conversation about their feelings, they then finally come to understand one another which was moving. 

You can’t not love Rishi. He’s the gentleman that every girl wants to meet. He cares about consent, he cares about Dimple deeply, he cares about being a good person. Best of all is probably the fact that he is willing to fight for Dimple, while that may not be seen as something to be proud of, it really is. I loved how he just accepted everything at face value, whenever he didn’t understand something he would ask. He was remarkably mature for a high school graduate. 

Rishi’s relationship with his brother was problematic at times, but that’s what having siblings is like. Sometimes you just want to scream at them, even though you know your parents would kill you. I loved their dynamic and their arguments, they were entertaining to be honest. 

Rishi and Dimple were endgame from the beginning, but it was cemented when Dimple quoted Emily Bronte in her mind “Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” It was clear that she was so deeply in love with him. They were actually perfect for each other, they helped one another grow into better people which was admirable. I loved the way that they were just so wholesome and not excessive with the displays of affection. 

I could go on for days proclaiming my love for this novel, but I think you get the jist. I must add one more thing though, the secondary characters were amazing. I loved the depth with which the author portrayed them, especially Celia and Ashish. 

To conclude, if you are in the mood for something nice, light, and fun, you should give this book a shot. I loved it so much. I hope you guys do as well. 

[jaspidoodles]

So, after rewatching all of Aggretsuko so far, I have a few things to say regarding the relationship between Haida and Retsuko.

Throughout the show, at COUNTLESS points, it's made clear that no one really knows Retsuko.

Fenneko and Haida only know the surface level of her, being work friends. Gori and Washimi on the other hand, are explicitly shown to be her "BFFs," knowing her better than the entire rest of the cast. This is important for several reasons.

The show puts a very sharp lens on the idea that your soul mate has to be someone you're comfortable around. Someone who lets you be who you are. And while it's a lot more obvious in season 2, season 1 touched on this as well. Haida makes the point that while he'd like to think he knows Retsuko, he admits that, he really doesn't. But he wants to. And he makes that ever prevalent in his many attempts to spend time with her. Not only that, but he's constantly sticking his neck out and going out of his way to do things for her at nearly every opportunity. The show rams it into your skull that Haida really loves Retsuko.

Now, why is this so important.

It's been shown that, again, Haida doesn't know much about Retsuko. However, the things he doesn't know are things that the show has already implied wouldn't bother him. The emphasis on him calling himself edgy, the leather jacket, the bass, all of it. He's already in the same general camp as Retsuko is in terms of style and taste, as Retsuko's life is defined by her death metal rocker heart. Hell, Ton even tells her that she needs to think for herself, or she "will never be the badass she wants to be." This was by the end of season two, so by then Ton has had enough time to understand that Retsuko isn't as sweet and submissive as she'd give the impression to be.

Retsuko and Haida are honestly a match in terms of how they would get along, but what's holding Retsuko back is how little she knows about Haida. It's made very clear through the fact that Haida barely knows Retsuko, that of course they have a mutual level of understanding. This is important because it helps you understand why Retsuko would only want to be a friend to him.

Retsuko has so far been the type to get into relationships spontaneously. You know, she meets up with a boy a few times, and suddenly she's in love. It's the telltale puppydog crush that typically can be shut down and forgotten about a lot sooner than later.

This isn't to say her relationship with Tadano wasn't genuine, but it definitely was mismatched.

What I'm getting at here is Retsuko isn't the type to slowly build a friendship and make it something more. Her best friend and her boyfriend are different people in her mind.

Haida is the polar opposite, meanwhile. He has been shown to hold Retsuko up HIGH above most others, and defends her frequently. He's developed far past a crush, and reached a point where he legitimately loves her. And with Fenneko as his wingman, he's had to deal with the harsh reality that despite how close he is, he's so far at the same time. Hell Haida's plot in the Christmas Special was purely about him trying to get over the fact that he was left out to dry, and even then, it ended with his faith in the possibility of dating her restored by the time credits rolled.

The last thing I want to touch on is why Retsuko broke up with Tadano. Resasuke made sense. He wasn't good at empathy, and his self awareness was pretty low. But Tadano was a person, and a lively one at that. He complimented Retsuko's hard working attitude with his own laid back idealist nature perfectly. The only issue? He didn't think marriage, or kids were worth their weight. He deemed them pointless, which Retsuko didn't like.

Now back to Haida. While he himself stated that he's "edgy, and edgy guys don't care about that sort of thing," it's heavily implied by other lines and general behaviors that his true dream is in fact, to marry Retsuko. The fact that he even has a proper response to her hypothetical about getting married back in season 1 highlights this, putting emphasis on the romantic aspects.

Haida and Retsuko are a perfect match. Don't fucking @ me

[nataliedanovelist]

(I did not draw this, my friend, @missinspi, drew this for me) (https://www.deviantart.com/missinspi)

Wanna read fics with this OC in it?

For a fic close to canon Gravity Falls (season 3?), read this.

For an AU about Stan and Ford getting a new neighbor at seven-years-old, read this.

Miscellaneous Oc Asks

@cityandking created a (relatively short) list of random, weird, hopefully interesting OC asks. Feel free to specify a character or just send a couple of questions, and then share it around!

What six CD’s would your OC keep in their car? Is it just a taste/preference thing, or do any of them have particular significance? I can’t think of any particular CDs, but as far as artists go... Ray Charles, Stevie Wonder, Queen (or in the Gravity Falls world, the band called King), ACDC, a disk full of instrumental piano music, and a Dolly Parton CD her friend Madeline Ingrid probably gave her.

What does your OC smell like? What does your OC wish they smelled like? Coconut butter, japanese cherry-blossom perfume, and occasionally disinfectant (she works at a hospital). She tried every hard to smell nice, as most women do, and if she feels like work is ruining that, she might use her favorite “stress relief” lotion to help overpower the smells of rubber gloves and baby spit up.

How aesthetically-oriented is your OC in their clothing? Their living space? Their general presentation? If their look™ is mismatched, is that on purpose? Hephzie has a plain, easy-to-follow fashion sense: blue-jeans with t-shirts for casual events, jeans with blouses for nicer days, and occasionally a sweater for the winter. She also has a small love for boys’ clothes; she won’t shy away from mens’ t-shirts or button-ups if they feel nice and look OK. Her living space is relatively tidy (having grown up with grandparents who needed clean floors to avoid falling) but she’s not a clean freak. Her living space is very artsy and mitch-match, having friends all over the world and she loves learning about different cultures. She might have a rug from India by her bed, but a quilt from Ireland on her bed and a small statue from Hawaii on her dresser. With a bunch of hand-me-downs and mis-match tastes, her overall aesthetic is old and comfort.

What one word would you use to describe your OC’s vibe? Chill.

What’s one mundane thing that would throw them off-kilter? Why? Nuclear families. She grew up with her Grandma and Grandpa on her mother’s side. She never knew her father and her mother abandoned her at a hospital, not even waiting to see what would happen to Hephzie. So Hephzie values family very much, but she sees no reason why blood should be the most important factor in the definition in “family”. The idea of a “normal” family, one with two parents who are married and in love, siblings, and occasionally cousins and aunts and uncles, is like a dream to her. It’s nice, but not for her.

What kind of AU is your OC best suited to? What kind of AU would be the worst? Is there any AU that would be, objectively, just really funny? Hephzie is in 2 AUs: one pretty close to canon Gravity Falls, and one in which she grows up as neighbors to Stan and Ford. Both AUs are very interesting and I love seeing how she responds to each scenario, but I think the more “tragic” of the two is the canon-like one. I’ve toyed with an AU of her becoming a singer and I can see it going either two ways: either she crumbles under the pressure and gets into drugs and overdoses, or she flourishes and uses her money and power for good, like feeding the hungry and helping the homeless find homes.

If your OC could pick a different name, title, or pseudonym for themself, what would they pick? Why? Have they ever been given an alternate name/title, and how do they feel about it? Well, her birth name is Alicia-Sarah Hephzibah Fisher Cece, but she HATES the name Alicia-Sarah and only goes by Hephzibah/Hephzie. In one AU, she legally “fixes” her name.

If your OC were playing D&D, what would their race and class be? What backstory tragedy™ would they give their character? Does that reflect their own life in any way? Be honest. Okay, because a certain extra-special person in her life loves D,D, & More D, she plays, too. She’s an woodland elf, a healer, and has very little interest in her character, but she likes the storytelling and the praise she gets if she manages to heal a wizard with pointy-ears and fluffy brown hair named Rokuro the Righteous.

Star Wars or Star Trek? A certain boyfriend of hers likes Star Trek better, but she likes Star Wars better. It’s been a bitter rival since the beginning of time.

If your OC is from a fantasy world, where in the real world would they come from? If your OC is from our world, which fantasy world would they most want to live in? Bonus: Would you ever write/RP them in that world? Hephzie grew up on Irish folktales (her grandmother’s family is from there), so she would love to meet færies and see magic and meet a selkie. Screw being a mermaid, she wanted to be a selkie! And... no, don’t expect a fic about this.

What plant, animal, and color does your OC feel like today? A Venus Flytrap, a mongoose, and the color dark-green. It’s been a rough day but she’s keeping a level head.

If your OC were a superhero, how flashy would their costume be? Also, what would their superpower be? Does this go with their costume at all, or are they all about fashion? #Can’tFightCrimeIfYouAin’tCute Well... in the canon-like AU, she’s kinda a superhero already, so... think something like a knight’s armor on the arms and legs with a maroon cape. Power would be healing, but she can also fight hella well with a sword and bow-and-arrows. And she’s never cared about looking good, she just wants to survive the war...

Does your OC thrift? Buy designer? Where would they shop irl? GOODWILL FOR THE WIN!!! She and her friends called it “treasure hunting” in high-school and it stuck. She loves it, and when a certain somebody came out with a song about it, she was livid (even if she was fifty-something years old).

Is your OC superstitious? If so, what superstitions do they believe? If not, what do they think of superstitious people? She’s constantly around the supernatural and abnormal... and loves it. She thrives off of what is different. So, superstitious?... Hm, she isn’t paranoid or afraid; she welcomes it with open arms.

Is your OC religious? Do they want to be? Have they ever been at some time in the past? How complicated is their relationships with worship/the gods/the church/etc? Her grandparents took her to church growing up and she loved the music. Her grandmother was the choir director and her grandfather played the piano, and she had “the voice of an angel”, so she happily sang in church, but she kinda stopped going to church when she went to college, but if you ask her she’ll tell you she’s a Christian. She says it just makes sense to believe in a god; there’s too much that science can’t explain. She also likes studying Buddhism, Islam, and Judaism to learn more about other people and cultures.

Hardwood, tile, or carpet? Hardwood. But she will NEVER say no to a fluffy rug.

What’s their go-to parlor trick? Are they actually that good at it, or do they just enjoy it? Do people tell them they’re good, even if they aren’t? How do they handle criticism? I can’t really think of a good parlor trick. She has a lot of talents she keeps on the down, like singing and stand-up comedy (don’t ask). On another note, she takes criticism overall pretty well.

If your OC could request one boon from a god, what would it be? The extermination of a certain three-sided demon.

Favorite comfort food? Do they enjoy junk food or are they more of a foodie? Can they cook? What’s their favorite thing to cook? OREOS are HERS! DON’T TOUCH THEM UNLESS YOU WANNA LOSE A HAND! She also secretly loves watermelon (doesn’t like to tell people this) and her comfort food is either hot tea or hot chocolate. Something to warm her hands. And no, she can’t cook; she burns everything. EXCEPT, she can brew coffee and she’s a pretty good barista (was one during college).

Any major theme(s) or conflict(s) in your OC’s life? How have they dealt with that? Are they aware of it, or do they ignore it? Did you design them with such theme(s)/conflict(s) in mind, or did they evolve naturally? Loyalty is a huge one for her. I think so many people have forgotten what it means to be a true friend and what real loyalty looks like. You’re willing to go far and wide for the people you care about because you want to, because you get fulfillment out of doing the right thing. Hephzie will have your back, no matter what. She doesn’t care what race, background, gender, sexuality, religion, she doesn’t give a shit. If you’ve got her, you’ve got a loyal friend. IOne thing she struggled with - and is only semi-aware of it - is loneliness. She finds it suffocating. It’s slight PTSD from losing so much in her life, and she’s not terribly clingy, but she’ll wallow about it and sink into depression if she feels abandoned or alone. She NEEDS that reassurance that she is not a freak and not alone and that SOMEONE would care if one day she was gone. This evolved naturally when shaping her backstory and realising it needed to have realistic consequences.

If they could steal one major piece of art with no consequences, what would it be and why? Bonus: how would they pull off the heist? Anything Bob Ross. Loves that guy. And she’d probably just recrute Stan to help her with either blackmail or her “Please, for me?” line.

Now it’s YOUR turn!

[aeris-blue]

I have a question about the season of grillster. 👀 If I recall correctly grillby was going to send a break up text but later on delete it. How would the plot be affected if he did send it?

Ow... Ouch! That hurt! Haha whelp I’m sure you mean this as a hypothetical but here’s just under 3000 words on the matter!

“All that’s left is the message,” Asgore smiled as he cooed over the bright orange flower under the glass dome. It was to prevent any accidental recordings since this would only work once.

Gaster fidgeted with the tails on his suit jacket before he took a step forward. He pulled out his phone and tapped the play button: “I love you.” It was his voice unperturbed by his natural Font. The idea of Grillby being able to hear that to really understand that he’s saying it made his soul so light he wondered if he was actually touching the ground. This whole venture had been so much prep work but it was definitely going to be worth it!

Asgore gently lifted the glass from around the flower, “We’re back dad!” Papyrus called cheerily and Asgore quickly clamped the glass back down.

‘Thank you boys so much!’ He turned around to see Papyrus’s knees and fingers coated in dirt from placing all of the echo flowers. ‘What happened to the tools Asgore lent you?’

“They are all tucked away securely in my inventory but something this important must be done by hand! Nyeheheh!” Papyrus put his hands on his hips as he laughed.

“You could say he left no stone unturned,” Sans winked as Papyrus groaned. Even Sans had a bit of dirt around the knees of his black pants which meant he’d done more than provide transportation like he said he would. 

He had two glorious sons who wanted nothing more than to see him happy. Without much of a thought he wrapped his arms around the pair, “Thank you,” he whispered, hoping the harsh sounds of his Font were more tolerable at a lower volume.

“When you put so much effort into something even I can’t sit back and do nothing,” Sans smiled as he patted his dad’s back.

Gaster’s phone buzzed in his pocket and Papyrus practically pushed him away, “That’s Justin!” He practically squeaked, “It’s go time! Ah! I wish I could see Grillby’s face!” Gaster chuckled as he pulled out his phone: one missed message from Justin. This was it, all that was left was to put the message in the flower and go up the mountain! His magic spun circles of excitement in his narrow bones as an almost manic smile excavated his teeth. 

Another buzz, this time from Grillby. He opened it without a moment of hesitation: Hey Gaster. It’s pretty obvious you have a lot of things to catch back up with after what all happened to you. My work schedule isn’t the most flexible of things either so maybe we should just call this whole thing off? Spend time with your friends and family.

Some carnivorous creature entrapped its’ fangs around his soul then after rereading it the wretched thing bit down hard enough to feel every incisor straight back to the molars. That was… this was fair. Yeah, yeah, he should have actually known this was coming. It was easy to see if he just took a moment to think about it.

Grillby had finally had enough of garbled memories and a partner that didn’t know the first thing about a relationship. One with a broken skull and malformed--just about everything else. His wonky ugly Font coming back was just the icing on the cake… A fruit cake even. A disgusting amalgamation of fruit and batter too much of a mismatched mix to be anything more than a once a year torture.

Was he shaking? He felt like he was shaking.

Of course his short stint at a relationship was over. This was why he’d always avoided such things right? Even if someone could take the time to look past his scars, his wounds, they’d just find a battered bore underneath it all. He was nearly incapable of kindness how on earth did he think he could manage love? How stupid. He was a being of logic. That’s what he was for: to make and do things for others. That’s how he’d prove he was good and that he wasn’t a mistake. He wasn’t a mistake. He wasn’t a mistake.

“Dad?” Papyrus squeaked.

“You’re crying, what’s up?” Sans’s eyelights pointed up into his one fully functioning eye.

Family and friends. That had always mattered to him more than trivial pursuits of clumsy half capable romance. Friends and family. He loved them. Those bonds were the only way he was capable of love. It was foolish to try anything more than that he’d never felt anything more than that. 

Grillby had him all figured out. He always had. OKAY, he responded. He took a shuddering breath then picked his hands up to sign. They shook more than he was expecting, trembling like leaves at the ends of his twig like arms, ‘I am so sorry for wasting everyone’s time. It appears things are over between Grillby and I.’ If that’s what Grillby wanted then who was he to deny his feelings?

Damn it, damn it, damn it, Grillby paced back and forth behind the bar like a tiger in a cage. His shoes smacked against the wooden floor as he took sweeping glances at his phone resting so uncaringly atop the counter. He hadn’t meant to hit send, he didn’t want to hit send, he wanted to talk to Gaster about disappearing first, now he seemed like a moody teenager. Over and over the thought crossed his mind to text him back that he sent that in error but it was out there now.

Finally, after what felt like an agonizing eternity his phone lit up. He pounced atop it eager to here Gaster’s counter but… the word ‘okay’ was displayed in caps lock instead. Okay? Okay! That was it? Everything they’d been working towards was over and all he could say was okay?! His flames blistered white as a deep rootted rage built in his chest. So he meant that little to him?

“Woah,” Justin held his hands up as he exited the backroom, “you uh… Got something on your mind?” Justin’s glasses were a sheet of white as they caught Grillby’s reflection in them. He needed to calm down, he knew that, but he couldn’t! His flames were a wicked storm across his form licking gently through his clothes to lash out against the whole world if they had to.

“I’m fine,” his voice was a snarl just short of a roar.

“Hey uh, I know I’m just your GM and you’re the owner but… Do you need the day off? I’m here, I’ll cover for you,” he slipped his hands in his pocket.

This human didn’t understand what he was looking at or he wouldn’t be so casual. He was an indestructible force of nature and right now he wanted nothing more than to return to his roots. Burn the whole bar down if he had to. He needed to do something to exert this toxicity billowing around him and harness it into-- something. “No,” he decided on finally, “I need to work.”

Fisher, one of his regulars, sauntered through the front door it only took a moment for the monster to cock his brow in confusion. If Fisher was coming in for the morning he just wanted something light to tie him over before he left for his construction job. A glass of juice, some mushy egg toast, and a few veggies. Easy enough he’d been doing this for years.

Grillby reached under the counter for a glass. In the short amount of time it took to place it atop the bar the glass shattered in his grip, the remains melted against his palm while he was left looking dumbfounded at the shards around the store. Right. He was too heated for glass at the moment. Stupid. He was always so stupid.

How long had Gaster known that his favorite book was at the intelligence level of a preschooler? That sentimental smile across his teeth had been mocking him. It wasn’t from affection at all, how could someone so smart find anything but amusement at that? 

Okay.

He said okay.

It was that easy for him to just throw him away. He laughed audibly but didn’t care. Of course it was that easy! Grillby was just a little toy soldier after all, you just tossed him out when you were done playing with him. The only good Eternal was one that obeyed. Well fine. He’d be the good little flame everyone wanted.

Gaster says it’s over. Okay. Gaster doesn’t even want to talk about it? Okay. Gaster thought he was a boring washed up unintelligent relic from a time gone by? Okay.

“Hey, B,” Justin put his hand on Grillby’s shoulder. Grillby immediately recoiled, no one should touch him when he’s angry, no one should even be near him, he’ll hurt them. Humans. Monsters. It didn’t matter! They shouldn’t touch him they shouldn’t-- 

In that second it took to blink something cold settled over his hearthstone and sunk straight down into his soul. Soot danced freely from him as he stared with his mouth agape at Justin, “Did… Did I hurt you?”

“No,” Justin showed him his hand, “I’m fine. You wouldn’t hurt me.”

He had no idea what hurt Grillby was capable of.

“Please B, even if it’s just the afternoon crowd I think you need to go home and rest a bit.”

Soot settled lazily atop the shattered glass, his flames dimmed from white, to yellow, to orange, and down into a dingy red, “You’re right.” He swallowed hard, “Yeah. If you need me I’ll be upstairs don’t hesitate to ask.” With a disheartening pop of the stitches he tore his bow tie off from his neck, “Sorry I’m leaving you with such a mess.”

“No worries B just take care of yourself okay?”

“Yeah.”

Even the late nighters had left the bar by the time he stood with a fit of butterflies in his ribs outside of the door. Deep inside he knew it was wrong of him to be here, to be so close, but… He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t rest, and he’d grown tired of his cocoon of blankets. Gaster wrapped his hands around the door handle but could not muster the nerve to move it.

Ever since crawling out of that black pit he’d had to work exhaustively to balance between what had happened in the past and connecting with who his friends were in this new present. Seeing his friends, his sons, with the painful knowledge that everything he had built with them was gone had been more than crushing. Everyday any conversation was a constant game of chess against himself where he could only lose. 

So why did this hurt worse than that? Why did it feel like at any second his soul was going to dissolve into dust under the weight of fangs far stronger than he? His mind had proven incapable of thinking of anything else but that didn’t change it was Grillby that had been the one to call it off. He couldn’t deny Grillby’s feelings but every attempt to crush his own had been futile. 

The key turned to lock the door and Gaster tugged it open to come face to face with Justin. He blinked stepping back quickly in surprise, ‘J-U-S-T-I-N?’

“Ah man you’re a sight for sore eyes,” he rubbed his eyes whether for emphasis or actual exhaustion Gaster wasn’t sure. “It’s two a.m. what are you doing here?”

‘I could ask the same of you,’ Gaster signed quickly perhaps too quickly as Justin didn’t seem to piece the Hands together.

“It has been a very long day, so please, go upstairs and talk to him like an adult.”

‘I will,’ he signed but his ribs stuttered. Stars, he really didn’t want Grillby to be angry at him for showing up but he couldn’t just let it end like that. Of all the monsters, of all the friends, the family, the memories, Grillby was the only one that it didn’t really feel like he was starting over with. They tried the dating thing and maybe that voice in the back of Gaster’s head had been right all along that it was doomed from the start but he wasn’t about to lose his best friend.

With one last unsteady breath in his ribs he marched up the stairs to Grillby’s home above the bar but by the time he was staring down the door he had already lost his nerve. He’d promised thought hadn’t he? That he wasn’t the little skeleton that ran away anymore… He hadn’t been that monster for a long time. Before his strength could leave him again he knocked on the door twice.

There was some fumbling on the other side of the door before it opened to a swirling mess of hot reds and purples. A pungent bitter fruit smell wafted through the air as wide white flecks studied his face, a deep orange line cut across his face, “Okay,” he practically giggled. 

‘You’ve been drinking?’ Gaster raised a brow.

“Wine, it’s classy,” he gestured vaguely to the living room as if inviting him over to it but he just leaned against the half wall that framed the entryway.

‘Why don’t you burn some of that out of your system?’ Why was Grillby so upset? He was the one that sent the text. Still, he found it difficult to be angry, if there was anything Gaster could sympathize with it was being sloppy drunk.

“Why didn’t you fight at all? You just,” he gestured in what might have been an attempt at hands, “said Okay. You didn’t even care.” He leaned heavily to Gaster who wrapped his arms around him and carefully maneuvered the door shut behind them. “Why didn’t you care?”

‘I--’ He tried to sign but his arms were full of churning flames and he had a sneaking suspicion that was done on purpose. With a painful familiarity he pushed his shoulder further under Grillby’s to force him to lean against him. The two stumbled their way onto the living room couch where Grillby splayed his arms across the bad and swung his legs wide. For a moment Gaster wondered if he passed out but the large white flecks returned tainted with a bit more yellow than he thought.

“So? Do I not matter to you?”

‘What? No! Grillby you are and have always been one of the most important monsters in my life!’

“Then why did you say okay?” He batted away at the tears that were floating about his glasses.

‘I thought-- it sounded like you were done, I wanted to respect your feelings! Breaking up is the opposite of what I want but if that’s what you wanted I wasn’t going to fight about it.’

“Why not? If you wanted to stay together, why didn’t you say so?”

‘Because,’ he tapped his fingers together, ‘I’m not supposed to… that is that I don’t… I stole so much from everyone I don’t really… I shouldn’t be,” he rubbed at his sockets as his teeth started to chatter. He didn’t deserve to be happy. Straight down to his soul he knew this but he couldn’t help hoping, he couldn’t help dreaming, and knowing this just made it so much easier to accept whatever ill came his way. 

A warm violet and orange arm wrapped around him then lead him to another one. Pressed firmly against Grillby’s chest he felt so safe, so warm, and so stupidly happy. He pressed his fingers against Grillby’s shoulder blades as if he could compress himself into the rolling flames. “I love you Gaster, I love you so much, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to send that to you I was just angry.”

‘You deserve to be,’ he still wasn’t sure what Grillby was upset about but he had no doubt he had every right to whatever emotion he wanted to feel.

“No! I wanted to talk! I wanted to work through it like we’re supposed to,” he squeezed tight enough for Gaster’s back to pop, “I hit the wrong button. Then you said okay and… I didn’t want to talk anymore.”

‘That’s okay I forgive you,’ he looked him in the eye, ‘do you forgive me?’

“Of course! A thousand times over! I shouldn’t have put you in that position at all!”

‘And I shouldn’t have--’ Well, he probably shouldn’t apologize if he didn’t know what it was for. ‘Let’s talk,’ he leaned back and held Grillby’s hands tight to his chest while a pair of hand bullets finished his thoughts: ‘let’s talk about anything and everything.’

“So you still like me?” Grillby’s voice was just short of a whimper.

Gaster smiled softly then pressed a kiss to his temple, ‘I love you.’ He said it, maybe not as grandly as he wanted but he finally told him exactly how he was feeling. If anything this whole ordeal had merely confirmed for him how true the statement was. 

“You love me?” His flames stoked into their usual orange and yellows as he sat up proper.

‘I love you with everything I am.’

Grillby lunged forward in a crippling bear hug that sent both of them squealing to the floor where they laughed in the face of everything they’d been feeling. Their laughs were infectious to one another and it seemed everytime one stopped the other just started up again. They could talk later but for now, this was what they needed.

[fandom-mix-16]

Unsolicited, but I’ll talk about Shiv and Tom

(This is a very long post) (SPOILER ALERT too)

First of all, I’d like to be very clear that I have always loved their relationship - good times and bad times; even when it seemed like a mismatch, even when it felt like a toxic relationship, when he seemed to care for her more than she does him, when she seemed to not care at all, yeah, even then.

Because even then their relationship felt true despite a lot of things. I guess that’s what always mattered to me. 

We know how much Tom loves Shiv. He says it. He acts it. With Shiv, on the other hand, it’s like there’s always this question hanging above: “Why is she with him when she doesn’t seem to care for him at all?” I’ve seen Shiv do something that completely questions the sincerity of their relationship, but there’s also something about the way she acts while this sincerity is being put into question that makes me feel that maybe it’s just an act, a facade to hide away her true feelings.

You can imagine how this season finale really got to me. It felt like my thoughts were put into writing put into moving picture.

I’ve always believed in them. Sure, this season really was a test of my belief, (I certainly reached the point when I doubted the sincerity that I was sensing since Season 1), but season finale put my mind and heart at ease.

Let’s break it down:

PRE-EPISODE 10

1. The ‘blood sacrifice’ made me extremely nervous. I talked about it pretty extensively (and confusingly?) in my last text post. With this season being Shiv-focused, it would make sense that Tom ends up to be the sacrificial lamb. Even if he doesn’t end up to be, I figured just the idea of him being sacrificed might cause some friction with his relationship with Shiv. The question lies in whether or not she will be complicit in his possible demise. Or whether she would actively help getting him out of that situation if he’s ever placed in it.

Given how she’s acted for the most part of the past couple of episodes, my belief was certainly wavering. Most evidence points to, “If he’s chosen to be sacrificed, she will be happy to bring him to the chopping block.” But part of me refused to believe that what I was sensing was an illusion; a creation of the mind that desperately wants to believe that there’s something pure about these vile characters, some light to hold on to. Maybe I am trying to hold on to something “good”, but I can feel it in my freaking guts that there’s more to Shiv Roy than being Shiv “fucking” Roy.

2. The preview text for this episode states, “Shiv proposes taking her open marriage with Tom to another level,” and then there was the clip from the preview when they were on the beach looking like they just finished a heavy conversation.

 Of course my stream of thoughts took me to the direction of “Shiv will ask for divorce?!” because what other levels are there after an open relationship? (Having never been in a relationship I guess I should have expected that people get creative.) Tying this with the previous idea, I kinda panicked. Why would she ask for a divorce if she doesn’t want to extricate herself from the mess of being the wife of the fallen ‘Roy’? Which would mean that Tom ends up as the sacrifice which would mean that even if she didn’t have a hand on placing him there, she didn’t do anything for him either.

My mind was everywhere. I think I was doing statistical probability even in my sleep. This was such a crucial moment for them that I know my questions and doubts will be answered whether I like the answers or not. 

So I came home from work (it’s Monday evening here), wanting to devour the episode and savor every minute of it as well. This is it, I thought. What I’ve been waiting for and what I’ve been dreading.

DURING EPISODE 10

3. The dining room scene. When everyone was pointing fingers at each other I knew it was only a bit of time before they point it at Tom, and AGAIN, I’m just nervous how Shiv’s going to react to this. THIS IS CRUCIAL. When they started to propose the idea of Tom as the sacrifice, Shiv can be seen struggling.

She knew this would come. She knew she’d need to say something, and she knew it was something that he’s not gonna like. When they were ganging up on him, she looked like she wanted to defend him in front of them but was trying hard not to. The strategic, political Shiv kicked in.

It’s logical to not side with him. That move also has the added bonus of not making her look vulnerable in front of the entire family and general counsel. 

You can see it wasn’t easy for her to say that Tom makes sense because he’s family but also not family.

4. The beach scene. I liked that she offered to talk. She offered the ‘I love you’ to set him at ease. To tell him that her actions were made out of love. And when this didn’t work, she told him she wouldn’t let anything happen to him. 

She was clearly uncomfortable to say it but she knows she has to because this is what’s bugging him. She get that he thinks she’s putting him aside like all those other times she did. She was uncomfortable though, not because it isn’t true but because that territory is foreign.

Then the heavy talk came in. Man, it would be a lie if I say I wasn’t waiting for them to have that conversation for some time now. If they are to be equals (some time in the future hopefully like a true married couple), conversation helps A LOT. Putting your thoughts and feelings on a platter and serving it up to your partner real nice develops a healthy relationship that builds on trust and love and all those things.

I was hurting when he said “I love you. I do. But I wonder if the sad I’d be without you would be less than the sad I get from being with you.” 

I FELT THAT. Like WOW! TOM?! I also felt that divorce is just hanging around. And that freaking scared me! Because right then and there I was sure that the sense was justified. It’s there. They care for each other. She loves Tom. She cares for him more than she lets on, more than it seems, but she does. So why should they separate just when the true feelings are out?!

5. Shiv’s talk with Logan. 

If one needs more proof about Shiv’s sincerity, this was it. Apparently when Logan told her about the blood sacrifice last episode she already offered someone else, someone not Tom (not happy it’s Kendall but that’s another story). She did that for Tom prior to the heavy talk. This wasn’t some last minute attempt to give Tom a reason not to continue with the divorce. She would protect him even when he didn’t ask for her protection. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is. She even let go of her chance for CEO. Logan asked her opinion again. He reminded her to set her feelings aside and go for the kill if that’s what’s necessary, and she explicitly told him that she can’t choose. Not when it comes down to Tom or anything else. Her choice is Tom, and not even CEO-ship can change that. 

So there ya go, this relationship makes sense, and I love it! 

I was previously told that this isn’t a relationship to root for and that they hope I was kidding. I said I wasn’t kidding and I ain’t kidding now. It’s clearly not perfect: There’s infidelity, an open relationship that’s one-sided, and sometimes Shiv was just outright bullying him. But there’s hope. It’s that hope that this bond will only strengthen and grow into a beautiful thing that I’m rooting for. It’s these crazy individuals that found comfort in each other and would fight for the other that I’m rooting for. That hope is there, and I’m here for it.

To end this, I like to applaud the writing of these wonderfully flawed characters and the brilliant portrayal of them by Sarah Snook and Matthew Macfadyen. These thoughts and feelings that I have right now wouldn’t be possible if they didn’t make such a damn good job. I’m certainly looking forward to what they have in store for them for Season 3 (and many more seasons, please!) I hope that when this show ends they get the happiest ever after they could possibly have.

Sincerely,

Your #1 Shiv & Tom fan  

[365daysoftododeku]

2nd June 2019

Author: CrzA

________________________________________________________________

(Soon-to-be) Pros  At Cons

A hero nerd as big as Izuku couldn’t call himself as such without having attended at least one hero con, and throughout the years, whenever money allowed it, he had been to plenty. He loved it all: the panels, the merch, the guests, the cosplayers. Every part of it was just as exciting the tenth time as it had been the first, even when most of the stalls were the same every year, if some faces were so often present, they became familiar.

Izuku had tried to cosplay his favourite hero once, his mother had helped him fix up his All Might onesie into a more proper suit that earned him some excited compliments and a few requests for photos. Though Izuku isn’t really one for being the centre of attention—seeing as most of the time when eyes were on him, it was for all the wrong reasons, it seemed—, it had been a nice change of pace from his middle school interactions. At the cons, he was among his people, so to speak.

People of all shapes and sizes, from all sorts of backgrounds, came to these events to share in their love and admirations of Japan’s heroes. And the people who noticed him were just as enthusiastic about them as he was. It was nice, to not be looked at as the quirkless kid who aspired to be more than he was meant to. No one knew him, who he was, whether or not he had a quirk or what it might be. No one really cared either. They knew he loved heroes and that was that, enough to strike up a friendly conversation before they parted ways after only a few minutes.

When he started at U.A., things changed slightly though. After not only the villain attacks, but the sports festival as well, Izuku grew a little more recognisable than he had originally expected. Now that his face had been imprinted in hero aficionados’ minds as the kid who broke nearly all the bones in his arm in the fight with Endeavor’s son, people started approaching him even as he was just dressed as casually as any other day of the year. The con had happened not that long after the event was broadcast for all of Japan to see, so he reasoned that it was only natural the fight was still fresh in people’s minds. They were bound to forget about him once the hype had died down, and the next convention he managed to go to, he would go just as unnoticed as he had done in the past.

Or at least, that was what Izuku thought would happen.

To be fair, he hadn’t expected to get himself a boyfriend between then and now. He most certainly didn’t expect it to be the very boy with whom he had fought to make him noticeable in the first place. And the thing about Todoroki is that his hair doesn’t really qualify as something one could consider discreet. After the hero nerds found out who he was, who his father was, it was unlikely that they would forget.

In retrospect, Izuku should have expected this particular outcome. But he didn’t. And he invited Todoroki to come to the convention with him because he thought it could be fun, a bit of a date but not really. He just wanted to enjoy something he loves with someone he cares about. It seemed harmless.

But then people saw Todoroki, they recognised his hair, his face, his standing in the hero world. They saw Izuku beside him, their fingers laced together as they absentmindedly browsed an artist’s table. First came the shoulder taps, then the questions of whether they really were Endeavor’s son and the guy he had thrown out of bounds in a fit of blazing glory, and finally, the long, awkwardly silent stares as the cogs turned in these people’s brains. Some legitimately shrieked in uncontained excitement, and Izuku was torn between feeling amused at these stranger’s enthusiasm for their relationship, guilty for the way it made Todoroki shift uncomfortably and anxious about the possible consequences it could have.

Luckily, everyone was relatively nice and only wanted some pictures with some of U.A.’s most promising. It made Izuku feel like some sort of celebrity, which was a little strange. Todoroki kept mostly to himself though, almost cowering behind Izuku as he made all the small talk for the both of them. He was clearly thankful when people didn’t pry at his standoffish behaviour, though Izuku had done his best to steer their attention off of him to begin with.

Despite most simply approaching them about their iconic fight, however, they had a few stray encounters that were… interesting, to put it nicely.

It was definitely weird finding out that some people shipped them together ever since the U.A. sports festival. According to them, it was something about some obvious romantic tension—a couple of people may have called it by a slightly different name—that made Izuku blush so hard he was worryingly close to passing out from the lack of blood reaching his brain. Apparently, there was even a forum in some dark corner of the internet dedicated to speculating whether there was something between them in the little glimpses they caught of their lives when they were thrust into the media for one reason or another.

Izuku didn’t know whether to be impressed or extremely put off by the fact that these complete strangers had pieced together their mutual feelings long before they had managed to do it themselves.

Regardless, it was an overall taxing experience. Between trying to enjoy what the con had to offer and running around the venue to reach all the things that caught their eye as soon as possible, and handling their supposed fans and/or supporters (shippers?) while doing his best to keep them from poking at Todoroki’s life… Izuku got to the end of the day utterly exhausted. Conventions always took a lot out of him, no doubt about it, but this… this was a whole other level of tiresome.

If Izuku had a say in it, the next time they went together would go without a hitch. No people nearly cornering them with questions or requests that sometimes were borderline invasion of privacy. He knew that they meant well, but it was still clearly uncomfortable for Todoroki to be in these situations, so Izuku would like to find a way to avoid them entirely in order for him to actually have a good time.

“You want me to go with you to another one of these?” Todoroki asked, and Izuku realised with a start he had mumbled his musings out loud.

“Ah, sorry, you probably don’t want to go to something like this again, huh? After how this one went, I don’t really blame you, since it’s not even your kind of thing…”

Izuku smiled bashfully, though a hint of sadness settled in his chest at the thought of not getting to enjoy his boyfriend’s company at the next convention without people bothering them about something or other every few minutes. With a small shake of his head, Todoroki pulled Izuku into his arms, letting himself fall back onto one of the empty couches on the common room with him on top of his chest and stomach. Another rush of blood pooled in Izuku’s cheeks and he buried his face in Todoroki’s shirt in a futile attempt to hide it.

“I just didn’t think you’d want the attention I draw to us. I like spending time with you, especially if it’s something you like doing…”

A little whine of embarrassment sounded muffled against Todoroki’s chest and Izuku bit on his lower lip for a moment before lifting his chin and propping himself up on his elbows to look into his boyfriend’s tired, mismatched eyes.

“We could wear disguises… Maybe even couple’s cosplay… If you wanted, of course…”

Todoroki hummed softly, letting his head fall back against the armrest and his lids droop closed. “That would be nice… People wouldn’t really recognise us…”

Izuku tried to agree but was cut off by a large yawn, covering his mouth just in time to stop the little yelp from escaping his lips entirely when Todoroki wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him closer to his chest. His breaths quickly settled on an even tempo and Izuku shifted to a more comfortable position, closing his eyes too and listening closely to Todoroki’s calm heartbeat. The exhaustion from the convention finally took over him as well, and by the time Iida woke them up to go up to their dorms before curfew, they had spent hours napping it away in each other’s arms. Even if the day didn’t go quite as he expected, Izuku couldn’t really complain about how it ended.

________________________________________________________________

Would you like your work to be featured in the 365 Days of TodoDeku Project? Apply here! (≧∇≦)/