#my respects to all who do this on a regular basis
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#henry must be very tired of all these requests#comics are much harder to draw than i thought#my respects to all who do this on a regular basis#english is not my native language so there may be errors in the text#I tried not to include very modern words but perhaps I missed something somewhere#kcd#henry of skalitz#hans capon#kingdom come deliverance#i love these two so much
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#oh my goD could my mother stop stealing all my fucking stuff for even 1 fucking week jfc#im gonna scream#she thinks that bc she's the one paying the majority of the rent and is technically my caregiver bc im too disabled to do certain chores etc#that she is simoly entitled to everything in the apartment and can do whatever she wants#steals my food steals my drinks steals my products steals my laundry card etc#now she's stealing my clothes and pyjamas#the fuck dude#i have severe skin allergies and have very selective clothing i can wear w/o a painful reaction#and now she's just. taking that too#the same way she takes the select few foods that don't set off my issues or allergies and steals the drinks that keep my blood sugar up#and steals the unscented hypoallergenic products i have to use#it never fuckin ends this woman is so self-absorbed and arrogant i rly cannot handle it sometimes (most times)#the irony is that she's a teacher and regularly works with kindergarteners who can understand 'don't touch what isn't yours'#and gives regular lectures to her students of all ages about respecting other ppl's belongings and never assuming u can take something#gives a big ol spiel about attentive listening and boundaries and respect on a daily fuckin basis from 8 am to 8 pm for her 2 teaching job#then comes home and immediately disregards that to take everything that isnt hers / disrespect my belongings and space#and yell at me when i tell her not to / get mad at her for doing it#ma'am.#ur 5 yr olds understand this. so do ur 8 yr olds. u r 60 MF YEARS OLD WHY CAN U NOT COMPREHEND THIS#nah actually the worst part is that she *does* understand it. she simply doesn't care#she would never do this to anyone else just me. bc im disabled and a burden and she hates having me depend on her for things.#idk if its vindictive or bc she feels like i owe her for basic care and decency or if she just enjoys lashing out like a petty bitch#i stopped trying to figure it out a long time ago#all i'm fucking asking is for her to STOP STEALING MY SHIT#is that so much to beg for. is it#ugHdjddjsk#someone find me a wall i need to bash my head against it#(or maybe hers. that might be better)#ask to tag#negative
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Sexism in TOS: Worst Offender, or Progressive in Retrospect in Comparison?
I see a lot of folks claim that TOS was the most sexist of the Star Trek shows by a landslide -- and while I agree that it definitely suffered from the sexism of the times, I also have other perspectives to share to give some food for thought.
I am of course not insinuating that TOS isn't sexist -- it is, but I have to ask folks to consider the breadth and depth of Berman's sexism in his run and ask yourself: Was Gene Roddenberry genuinely more sexist in his storytelling and delivery than Rick Berman?
I'm not telling you to feel one way or the other, but all I ask is that you hear me out and consider some perspectives and make your own balanced assessments. Nobody is obligated to share my opinion, but it means a lot just to have folks hear it and see their thoughts on the subject. So here is what I was originally responding to:
Someone's response to this photo:
"Devil's advocate. This was a part of the popular form of cardio during the production time of TNG. Yes, it was heavily sexualised by men, but so is literally every other way women work out. Men have been caught taking pictures of women while trying to do dead lifts, running on tracks and working on sled machines. They post them online to share too. The fact is, there is no way a woman can be shown working out without it going there. And yeah,t hat includes the combat forms of workout they do in Star Trek. Just look at how Dax dresses when she spars with Worf. Yes, they're dating, but still, same goes when 7 does and any other female.
Aerobics routines like this were made dirty and cringy. This was what women wore then by and large. This is how the workout was done. We make it cringy."
My response to them:
"I respect your take, but I disagree on a few fronts.
The miniskirt was chosen by the TOS female cast, not the male cast, specifically requested by Grace LW and affirmed by Nichelle and Majel who would go on to vehemently defend the miniskirt over the years as comfortable and embraced by them.
Grace said it was comfortable and seen as a symbol of female sexual empowerment during the 60s and thought it would be a progressive garment (and turns out that it was, as it was later adapted and worn by male crew as a skant on TNG) -- FYI those were designed by a gay man and Gene approved them.
This was also supposed to be Spock's TMP outfit:
Literally lingerie.
We saw both Uhura (who saves Kirk in from Marlena Mirror Mirror) and Yeoman Landon (the first to initiate combat with a classic Kirk-esque kick to help the Captain being attacked in The Apple) carry out their combat training in their Starfleet uniforms without ever being made to change into any ridiculous workout gear.
In fact, I'd argue Jim Kirk was sexualized even more than the ladies of the week on the show and I saw his naked body more than anyone else's on a fairly regular basis. He wore red yoga tights while topless in Charlie X while the women wore full length gymnastic suits that covered their entire body. If anything, it went out of its way to avoid sexualizing women practicing fitness in those scenes and instead focused on Kirk.
Gene confessed that he asked to have Shatner filmed in suggestive/provocative ways to "give something to the ladies", so he -- as he said -- liked to "film him walking away" or have him conveniently busting out of his shirts in just about every episode as it were, because Shatner apparently had great assets. LOL
Gene made an effort to at least sexualize both if he was going to sexualize one, and he carried that attitude forward in wanting the m/m and f/f scenes in the background on Risa for TNG. He also insisted that the men and women wear skimpy outfits on THAT TNG planet. You know the one. LOL I mean the dudes even had on less than the women:
Gene also gave permission to K/S shippers to have their conventions back in the 70s when he was asked for permission. Gene and Nimoy felt with all the skimpy outfits they had the ladies wear, why not let the ladies and gay men have their fun, too? It's how we ended up with moments like this:
Yes, those are two people dressed up as Kirk and Spock's penises doing interpretive dance. Gene didn't give two damns. LOL
In my eyes, that was a very progressive take on Gene's part for the 60s. It was actually PARAMOUNT STUDIOS who had the big problem with K/S stories and vehemently tried to shut them down. Gene literally hired slash authors on his payroll and even had several slash stories/writers published in his official Star Trek books (The New Voyages & The New Voyages II).
I feel I saw Uhura and women in TOS engaged in more physical combat/altercations defending themselves that Troi or Bev were shown holding their own.
In fact, Kirk used to get furious when someone would "dress up" his female crew members without their consent (Trelane episode, Shore Leave episode) because like his male crew members, he wanted them to be treated professionally and to also have his male crew act professionally.
Berman brought some of his own personal biases into Star Trek that in some ways regressed it. While TOS had blatant sexism and was called on it time and again, that show was made in the 60s -- a solid 21 years before TNG. We as a modern audience understood why some of it was cringe/sexist due to the time period -- look at any other media coming out in the 60s and Star Trek was miles ahead of what other shows were doing.
Compare that to Berman who was churning sexist stuff out when women like Starbuck and Scully were simultaneously on screen on other programs airing, and we had already had Sigourney Weaver and other strong women in Holywood playing respectful roles.
In my eyes, there was no need of the sexism seen in TNG but especially VOY and ENT. There was no excuse for it when other shows were writing women far better and a number of those weren't even set in the future like Trek was, making it age even faster due to having those dated perspectives frequently highlighted.
In the Center Seat documentary as well as "The Fifty Year Mission" book you will find cast members, writers and other studio alumni who attest to this. Some discussions from "The Fifty Year Mission":
"First, Berman was supposed to have been a real sleaze ball . . . According to Terry Farrel, he would go on constantly about how her breasts weren't big enough, how she should do something about it, and how his secretary was a good example to follow as she had huge breasts. She even had to have fittings to get larger bras, and that was all done at his behest.
Later Berman and Braga developed a name for Jeri Ryan's character prior Seven of Nine. They originally called the character "perineum" which if you look it up it is the area between the anus and the scrotum. Later they floated the name "6 of 9". I mean, what does it tell you about where these two were coming from in the development of this character if they had names like that put forward in all seriousness for her?"
Gene Roddenberry also had some of his own more progressive ideas for TNG cut or watered down by Berman. Roddenberry agreed TNG should have homosexual relationships and representation at a con in the 80s and insisted on it in a meeting with his writers -- something Berman later would not honor. Gene wanted the AIDS episode, showing m/m and f/f in the Riza scenes -- these were some of Roddenberry's requests to include in TNG that Berman later stonewalled.
Berman's era was sadly dated by his own misogynist bias, IMO, to the point that it can somewhat hurt the shows he worked on through his cringe egoism and blatant disrespect toward his female cast.
There is a reason why Gene could keep female actresses working with him and Berman had a revolving door of women that he couldn't seem to keep working for him -- he was abhorrent to women, on and off set. Gene wasn't perfect at all, he had a lot of issues himself -- but Berman was a whole other level. Just look at what he did to poor Jolene Blalock, Marina Sirtis and his toxic commenting on her body weight which exacerbated her struggles with eating disorders, or how he treated and talked to Terry Farrell.
Anyway, just some food for thought. I'm not saying anyone is wrong regarding a take like that, but there are a variety of ways to look at this. Gene Roddenberry isn't a saint by any means, but it definitely bothers me how folks will tote the Berman era as if it were the lesser of two evils or the more progressive depiction of women when I felt there were far more concerning portrayals of women in his era with far less justification.
(P.S: I don't event want to go near the sheer amount of "creepy old dude/villain preys on innocent/naïve/scared young woman or little girl" stories there were in Berman's era, either. But that's a whole other can of worms I can write about in a part 2.)
#star trek#star trek tos#star trek tng#star trek voy#star trek ent#star trek ds9 was the one show that went above and beyond#1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt#oc#octrekmeta#octrek#gene roddenberry#rick berman#brannon braga#kirk#spock#uhura#rand#nichelle nichols#majel barrett#grace lee whitney#tos#tng#voy#ent#marina sirtis#jolene blalock#terry farrell
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the regulars
you catch the eye of two regulars that come to the diner you work at
pairing; dazai osamu x fem!reader x chuuya nakahara
word count; 3.6k
content warning; nsfw (minors do not interact!), threesome, unprotected sex, mentions of alcohol, mentions of suicide (it’s dazai obv), degrading (dazai calls reader a slut), lowkey meandom!dazai, softdom!chuuya, oral sex (m&f receiving), backshots.., reader is held hostage (not by dazai or chuuya), cursing, unedited writing, probably a lot more
authors note; my first post on here! i’m pretty proud of this!
the diner was almost quiet in the mornings, very few customers and even fewer employees were present. it was usually just yourself and the cook until around noon when the lunch rush hit, but that was okay with you.
it allowed you catch up with whatever hobby you had going on at that moment, this time it was crocheting. whatever online forum that promised you it was easy was lying, you could barely finish the small square you had started.
just as you were beginning to grow frustrated you heard the familiar ding of the diner’s door, alerting you of a customer.
the brown haired man was sopping wet, a dreary gaze in his eyes as he shuffled to an empty table and awaited your service. you jumped to, notepad and pencil already in hand as you approached him.
“i don’t recall rain being on today’s forecast.” your weak attempt at a joke flew over his head entirely.
“oh, it’s not raining. i was trying to die in the river.” the confession didn’t surprise you as much as it should have.
there was talk of a man who was always spotted trying to drown himself, you assumed it was rumors.
“hmm, didn’t seem to work out.” it was the only response you could muster for the bizarre statement.
he opened his mouth to respond but as he lifted his eyes to meet yours he stopped, mouth agape and eyes wide like he had a groundbreaking revelation upon catching your eyes. you cleared your throat, cheeks growing warm from his staring.
“i didn’t realize i was in the presence of someone so beautiful. how rude of me not to greet you with the respect you deserve.” a cheap compliment, but his confidence when saying it was cute.
“what can i get you?” you changed the subject, tapping your pencil to your notebook.
“your number, if it’s available.” with rolled eyes you sighed, he overdid it now.
“let’s start off with your drink, what can i get you?” with a bit more push you questioned him.
“whatever type of whiskey you have.” you hummed, quickly scribbling down his drink and scurrying off to grab it.
when you went to the back the line cook was there prepping for lunch, he only greeted you with a small smile.
his eyes widened when he saw the whiskey you were pouring into a glass.
“a bit early for that, isn’t it?” you snorted.
“it’s for a customer.” he didn’t continue but you could feel his judging gaze.
after delivering the odd man his drink and a bit more bickering you got him to finally order something. just as he was leaving the restaurant got busy so you didn’t have time to wave him goodbye before he was out the door. and that was it, you expected to never see him again.
your shift was usually from open to close, so you swallowed your odd interaction you had that morning and continued on with your day. you got through the lunch and dinner rush without issue and now it was just you and the closing cook.
this was a normal day for you, working long hours and making poor pay. the tips were nice, but did they make up for all the rude customers you face on a daily basis?
you hear the ding of door, it’s ring echoing through the empty restaurant. with 45 minutes until close you wanted to tell whoever was there to leave, but your moral compass fought back with you.
a short man wearing a long coat and a strange looking hat. he was alone, you were thankful for that. you didn’t need a large party right before close.
when he sat down you finally approached him.
“hello, what can i get for you?” he didn’t look up at you, his eyes still scanning the menu.
“just a beer.” a strange request to ask at such hour, especially with a bar being just a couple of blogs down the street. you didn’t voice these thoughts with your customer and instead went to fetch his drink.
when you returned you saw that he was writing down notes in a notebook that he quickly pushed away when he noticed you looming over him. you smiled, setting down the drink and also taking a seat directly across from the stranger.
he shot you a strange look, one that held a mix of curiosity and annoyance.
“we close soon, thought i’d keep ya company.” he scoffed.
“how generous.” laced with sarcasm but there was a small smile playing on his lips.
you two talked for only a little bit, you asked him about what he was writing but he mentioned that it was classified, having something to do with his job that he wouldn’t reveal. eventually you both had to go home as the restaurant was closing. you were surprised by just how fast the time had come and gone when talking to the stranger
“i can walk you home, if you want me to.” he offered, to which you smiled.
“i’m gonna catch the late night bus, but thank you mr..”
“you can just call me chuuya, it’s nice to meet you y/n.” he said, his eyes trained on your nametag.
and then you parted ways, that was what you assumed to be the last of him.
thoughts of the two strange men you met today danced around in your head until you finally succumbed to the exhaustion of the day, the exhaustion that would follow you into the morning for another shift.
the very next day, your next shift you were surprised to see the brunette from the last morning. he waved, noticeably brighter this time around.
“goodmorning!” he yelled, motioning for you to come over.
you complied as he took your hands and sat you down beside him. with little shame he flirted, his mouth moving so fast you could barely keep up. you were able to introduce yourself to him and he did the same, he revealed that his name was dazai.
“would you do me the honor of committing a double suicide with me?” he asked for the millionth time, his bandaged hands snaking up your wrists to hold you tenderly.
“you���re cute, but no.” and with that you shook him off, his hands flying back dramatically.
he stuck around for a bit longer, you made sure he had enough whiskey to keep him busy. sometimes you would catch his gaze as you worked and he’d flash you a pretty smile.
but the times when you would look and he wasn’t staring he’d usually be rubbing his finger around the rim of the glass with his other hand supporting his resting head as he stared out the window in deep thought. you couldn’t help but admire the man, he was attractive.
and just like yesterday he left during lunch rush and your day continued on. and into the night you would encounter yet another familiar face.
chuuya sat in the same spot as he did last night, his arms crossed over his chest as he waited for you to approach him.
“seems like i have two new regulars.” you muttered under your breath as you made your way to him.
he ordered just a beer again and you once again sat down in front of him to chat. you were lucky he came in so close to closing so you usually weren’t even busy.
you chatted for a bit and then, just like yesterday you both got up to leave and he offered again to walk you home. you would just take the bus again.
this routine of your morning regular and your night regular became an almost everyday thing. sometimes one of them wouldn’t show and it worried you but they always showed up again the next day.
you got to know the two of them well, it occurred to you one day just how different they were from eachother. the only similarity was their love for booze, and how much of it they could drink.
somewhere down the line of this routine you started to catch crushes on both men. how scandalous, you thought to yourself. two men practically drinking themselves to death and you were swooning over both of them. who could blame you when they both gave you that certain look. chuuya more subtle than dazai by a long shot, but the ‘fuck me’ eyes they both gave you didn’t lie.
you shook your head, you shouldn’t be thinking these things about strangers that you barely knew. they were just customers, and that’s all they ever would be.
little did you know, they were both thinking the same thoughts about you. dazai hadn’t been able to keep you out of his head since the very first day you two met, for once he was glad his attempt at suicide failed him because it meant meeting you. chuuya was in the same predicament, he never planned on meeting you but once you hooked him in he couldn’t escape.
the pretty diner girl that has two very dangerous men roped in her smile.
when dazai came in the morning to the diner he was expecting to see you there, smiling and waiting patiently as always, but instead in your place was another waitress. he frowned, sitting down in his usual seat.
when the unfamiliar waitress walked to his table he immediately questioned her,
“where’s y/n? this isn’t usually her off day.” she seemed caught off guard, clearing her throat awkwardly.
“i’m sorry, i don’t know. she didn’t show up for her shift so i was called in, the owner tried calling her but she didn’t pick up.” something felt wrong, he felt it in his bones.
he excused himself, muttering something about only wanting to be served by you. just as he was standing his eyes caught a piece of paper hidden between the ketchup and mustard bottle that were displayed next to the menus on the table.
he took the folded up note and quietly exited the diner.
chuuya would experience the same oddity at a later time that day. he saw a different waitress and spotted the note.
and the note read that they were to both be at a specific location at a specific time.
said location was that of an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. it would occasionally be put on dazai’s radar if he was looking out for stolen goods or missing people but for the most part no one paid attention to it.
dazai arrived early, surprised to see a particular short man already at the entrance of the warehouse.
“what the hell are you doing here, dazai?” chuuya interrogated first, his voice on edge.
“i could ask you the same thing.” dazai shot back, a pout on his lips.
at first dazai suspected chuuya was behind this, but when chuuya explained your description and that he was looking for you he understood almost instantly.
“someone must have been watching us, found the opportunity to take advantage of the situation.” chuuya spoke, dazai humming in agreement.
“well, if i’m stuck with you at least be useful.” dazai said, walking ahead into the entrance of the warehouse with a shouting ginger following behind him.
the exterior looked better than the interior. old construction equipment everywhere with strange stains covering the walls and floors, it was definitely abandoned.
chuuya worried for you, not because he feared that you were hurt but because this place reeked. he could hardly imagine you being here, sitting somewhere in a cold dark corner with a dangerous person holding you hostage.
“someone’s got a lot of nerve to target her..” chuuya mumbled to no one in particular.
“they do, which is why we’re going to take care of whoever did this and get my woman back.” dazai responded, keeping his eyes peered for any signs of you.
“your woman? in your dreams!” chuuya let out a loud laugh that he hushed immediately after hearing what sounded like a cry coming from deeper in the warehouse.
both men sprinted forward, stopping once met with the sight of you chained to the floor with a man peering over you.
he turned to dazai and chuuya, a wide grin on his face.
you could barely see the scene before you, your head fuzzy from whatever the stranger had hit you with to knock you out. you barely remember how it happened, you only recall waking up in the dark with the man who abducted you.
just like before, everything was fading to black, this time your mind at peace now that you knew help was here. you didn’t know if it was the police or whoever, you didn’t care. just being content that someone came for you, you let the darkness consume you.
-
when you came to you saw dazai and chuuya standing over you, yet to see you were awake.
“don’t try to wake her up, she’s clearly exhausted, dazai. let her wake up on her own.” you heard chuuya’s voice along with a sigh from dazai.
“i just want to make sure she’s okay. especially after you carried her around like she was a damn ragdoll.” the brunette muttered.
“what else was i supposed to do? sit there and let that guy shoot at us?” you groaned, the loud noises not settling well on your ears.
everything went silent. both men stared down at you expectantly. you sat upright, wiping your eyes.
“dazai? chuuya? you two know eachother?” it was all you could muster, it made dazai grin.
“unfortunately.” chuuya mumbled, shoving away the arm dazai was trying to lay across his shoulder.
“i’ve got to say y/n, i’m hurt! i thought i was the only man in your life.” you ignored dazai’s dramatics, instead looking to chuuya for answers to where you were.
he explained the entire situation, after they “took care of” the person who abducted you, they brought you to chuuya’s apartment and have been waiting for you to wake up since.
the explanation made you realize just how awkward of a position you were in. you laid on the end of chuuya’s bed with the two men standing over you. you squeezed your thighs together and gathered your thoughts. this was not the time.
“this is a lot to wrap my head around.. why did they abduct me out of all people?” you knew you had been abducted and held hostage but you still didn’t understand why.
“oh, belladonna.” dazai cooed, his hand reaching to caress your cheek.
“they thought to take out our common weakness.” chuuya continued, his palm resting against the other cheek.
they didn’t need to finish their sentence, you already knew. the lingering gazes from both men at the diner, the flirting from dazai, the gentlemanly offers to walk you home from chuuya.
they were wrapped around your finger, they always had been. there was no more denying that fact, they had risked their lives to save you.
“i.. guess i should be thanking my saviors then, shouldn’t i?” a double meaning, they both knew it too.
“mmm, i think so. don’t you agree, chuuya?” the shorter man nodded in agreement.
dazai was the first to move, his hand that was on your cheek drifting down to your shoulder as he eased you further into the bed. you complied, wide eyes glancing between the two.
your back hit the cushioned mattress, dazai joined you on the bed, laying on his side as he peered down at your chest that held your racing heart. you saw chuuya kneel down and spread your legs further apart.
they both worked simultaneously, dazai undressing your top half while chuuya worked on the bottom. the feeling of their fingers grazing your skin left you overwhelmed, completely at their expense.
you were fully undressed in a matter of seconds, the cold air of the night nipped at your skin. suddenly feeling insecure you attempted to reach your arms down to cover yourself, dazai caught them, pinning them at your sides.
“don’t hide, beautiful. let us see you.” he whispered, his words holding authority that urged you to comply, you did.
chuuya’s breath fanned over your exposed cunt, shaky short lived breaths that told you he was just as nervous as you were.
“are you ready?” you nodded, closing your eyes in anticipation.
you felt his tongue make contact with your slit, a constricted moan left your lips out of instinct. dazai’s rough hand grabbed hold of your chin, forcing you to look in his eyes.
his warm brown eyes held a sinister glint in them. he dipped his head into your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin around your collarbone.
the noticeable contrast between the two showed, chuuya’s sweet licks to your pussy against dazai’s rough sucking to your neck. a mixture of pleasure in pain, the perfect balance.
chuuya made work of your cunt, acting as if he’d never get the chance to taste you again. his tongue darting in and out of your hole at a rapid speed you could barely keep up with. his mouth attacked your clit next, sucking on the bundle of nerves.
“chu.. ah!” he added a finger to your hole, curling the digit inside of you to hit the places he couldn’t reach otherwise.
he could tell you were reaching your peak, keeping a steady pace to bring you over the edge.
dazai could tell too, so he pushed chuuya away from you.
you whined at the loss of contact, gripping dazai’s shirt as a weak attempt to beg for more. you caught sight of chuuya, your juices all over his chin. he shamelessly licked the finger that was previously inside of you.
“can’t let him give you your first orgasm, beautiful.” chuuya bit back a snarky comment, instead listening to the painful erection in his pants.
“switch me places.” dazai spoke, chuuya agreed with little hesitation.
dazai was now by your legs and chuuya sitting behind your head. the brunette was quick to flip you on your back and position you just where he wanted. your ass now in the air with him lazily rubbing his clothed erection against your ass.
your head dangerously close to chuuya’s crotch, your shaking hands gripping both of his thighs. while dazai took off his pants you hastily aided chuuya with his.
dazai wasted little time, aligning himself with your entrance. his hands gripping your ass while he began with his first thrust, one reaching so deep he nearly bottomed out. a grunt left your lips, squeezing chuuya’s sensitive thighs as a way to stabilize yourself.
you felt chuuya’s soft hands reach for your hair, massaging your head whilst shushing your whimpers that escaped with each thrust dazai threw into your aching cunt.
once a rhythm was found you put your focus on chuuya’s painfully hard member. his eyes on yours the entire time as he watched you lick the base of his manhood until you reached the tip. he guided your head down his cock, small praises leaving his lips the entire time.
“our pretty girl, being such a useful slut.” dazai spoke, landing a smack on your ass.
you attempted to moan but your lips were occupied, drool escaping your mouth with every thrust chuuya delivered into your throat.
the speed of their thrusts beginning to synchronize, you felt your core squeezing dazai harder. it only encouraged him, knowing you were close to your peak.
it was all so overwhelming, bringing tears to your eyes as you attempted to take it all, to take all that dazai and chuuya gave you.
“so pretty.. taking us so well.” chuuya mumbled, wiping tears that began spilling from your eyes.
he looked at you as if you were the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen, despite your hair being a mess and your eyes being red from tears.
you were all close, that much was clear from the way dazai had began to shut up and chuuya’s silent grunts had turned into breathless moans. you were no better, one hand still resting on chuuya’s thigh while the other reached for one of dazai’s hands.
dazai’s hips sped up, squeezing your hand tenderly whenever he hits particularly deep.
he feels his orgasm creeping up on him, your tight walls leaving him a shaky mess.
he’s the first to come undone, his seed spilling into you with one finally push of his hips. his orgasm setting off chuuya, cumming into your warm mouth with a slew of curses leaving his lips.
you swallow every drop, chuuya wiping your mouth with his thumb before lifting your head up to plant a kiss on your lips. dazai still thrusting inside you, overstimulating himself to get you to your breaking point.
“m’ cumming!” you announced, heat pooling in your stomach.
“let go, belladonna.” and you did, cumming hard on his cock.
the room was filled with panting sighs and beating chests as you all collected yourselves. chuuya was the first to move, scrambling to his bathroom to grab a towel to clean you up. dazai cuddled you on the bed while chuuya cleaned you off, dazai stroking your hair whilst humming you to sleep.
you refused to let the tiredness take hold of you until both men were in the bed with you. when chuuya joined, you finally gave in to the sleep that was calling you.
you had never slept better, feeling safe in the arms of two strangers who had become regulars in your life.
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hi @sourpatchsquids! thank you for your question.
as an artist with ADHD, i know this struggle very well. unfortunately offering advice on this kind of thing can be tricky, because what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa!). nonetheless, i can try; take whatever works for you, forget the rest, or reshape any part of it as you see fit. :)
but before i offer any actual tools, i have one caveat. i want you to take a moment to reflect and consider if you should be:
changing expectations
the timing of this question seems fated, because just the other day i had a therapy session wherein i expressed my grief and frustration over struggling to work lately due to my seasonal depression. it's not fair that i'm struggling just because it got a little darker outside! i just want the spark i had in the summer! i was so much more consistent!
my therapist's response: nothing about human beings is consistent. we get sick, we get tired, we get hungry and thirsty (and thirsty) and sad and lonely and restless and stressed and overwhelmed. this all gets amplified for folks who are atypical in some way or another.
when my therapist compared our seasonal cycles to those of plants and other animals, who wilt and slow down and hibernate, i protested aloud that i wanted to be a perennial instead. at this she said: even perennials change with the seasons. rose bushes have to be pruned, sometimes down to half their height! it was a dose of perspective i didn't particularly want, but really needed.
so when you're struggling to work through executive dysfunction, burnout, or brain fog, it can help to first check in with yourself about a few things. what do you have the capacity for right now? do you need any accommodation? and if so, what changes you might make to accommodate yourself?
with practice and self reflection, i've learned a handful of specific routines that help me when i'm struggling with creative work, which i'll detail next. note that while your question is specifically about music and i am specifically a musician, i believe that all of these suggestions can apply to most any form of digital creative work.
with that in mind:
#1: work slower
when i'm at the top of my game, i can get a LOT done in a day. but when i'm depressed, fatigued, or distracted, i just can't go full steam. sometimes i'll try to convince myself that i can if i just push harder, but what actually ends up happening is that i'm just fiddling with settings and going in circles rather than moving forward.
instead of that, when i want to work a lot but can't, i try to work slow. how slow? however slow i need to. take four hours to figure out the melody for a single verse. take all day to figure out that drum groove. yeah, i take a lot of breaks in between. who says i have to be my Absolute Most Productive Every Day Or Else? that's the puritan work ethic talking. kill it. be kind to yourself.
i'm reminded of advice i once read about some super successful and prolific author (gaiman? king? pratchett?) who said they wrote only four hundred words every weekday. that's already less than the word count of this post, and i'm only—[travels into the future to check my final word count]... 22.8% of the way through writing it!
now, i don't think i could function that way, because ADHD means some days i'm hyperfocused like crazy, and other days i just have no steam at all (more on that in #4-6). but it seems to me that if even someone highly respected in their profession can achieve what they have with only a little bit of work on a regular basis, maybe i don't have to punish myself for not pumping out a finished work every single week.
doing less work per day means you're much less likely to burn out, which does a lot for working more consistently. if that consistency still doesn't look like a five-day work week, that's okay! as long as it helps you work even a little more often when you want to, it's something worth doing.
however, if you're still feeling truly stuck, all hope isn't lost. you can still try:
#2: switch projects
sometimes the reason i'm moving slow is because of a bad brain day, but sometimes the reason is that i just cannot muster the motivation to do the specific task i'm trying to do right now. ADHD is fueled by novelty and interest, and if i'm not interested in what i'm doing, or it's feeling stale, that's a sign that i need to switch gears.
this is why first it's helpful for me to have more than one project going at a time. this might mean completely unrelated works, or it might just mean related tracks as with the music for a game like SLARPG or susan taxpayer.
the idea here is not to start a dozen different projects and bounce around them like i'm playing whac-a-mole—though i have done that. (i don't recommend it.) the idea here is to have a manageable number of different projects i can be working on so that if i get bored or stuck on something, i have fallback options.
what that number of projects is depends entirely on the week. maybe right now it's two, maybe another time it's three. i would probably be getting carried away if i tried more than that, but that's just my own limit. maybe yours is different. that's something for you to think about.
but it doesn't have to stop there.
#3: switch focus
maybe there is this one project that i just HAVE to work on, but the task i'm trying to do at this stage just isn't coming to me. okay, well, why don't i try working on a different task?
let's say i can't figure out what i want to do with the melody in one part of the song:
what if i try jumping ahead to a different part of the melody? ...no, i'm stumped on melodies today. okay, how about working on the drums instead? ...hmm no, i think i'm just completely tapped out on writing parts right now. alright, what if i organized my tracks, making sure they're all grouped and named in a way that i can work with easily? what if i did a rough volume balance for the mix?
and so on. if that's not enough to shake the off stuckness, i might consider: what can i do to make this project more interesting to me?
what happens if i try using an instrument or effect that i almost never reach for? what if i try sampling something obscure? what if i bang out the drums using my midi keyboard instead of drawing it in on the piano roll?
any approach that breaks me out of my usual habits is bound to get that feeling of novelty and fun back when i need it.
or maybe i can't do any of that right now, and so i take the time to answer a question from a fellow musician instead. i consider that part of my work, too, in a broader sense. check in with yourself and figure out what you can do right now. the rest will still be there later.
but okay, let's say you try switching gears, and switching again, and again, and nothing is moving. you try new approaches, but that wall of awful is insurmountable in this moment. it happens! the next thing you might try is:
#4: learn something new
when you aren't able to make progress on your projects, you can still make progress on your knowledge and craft. i often find this stokes a flame of inspiration in me where there wasn't one before. and even when it doesn't, it still gets my brain out of that feeling of stuckness and dread and into one of thought and action. learning also benefits in the long term because it adds to the well of knowledge from which you draw for all your future works.
for all the awfulness that exists on the internet, it remains an absolute treasure trove of teaching. there's an endless ocean of videos, blog posts, and articles from which you might learn something about your craft. (and if you sail the seven seas, plenty of book PDFs as well. 🦜🏴☠️)
it's true that the quality and depth of information out there can vary wildly, but in my experience most resources get at least some things right. and the more you research, practice, and figure out what works for you, the better you will learn to differentiate between the advice worth keeping, and the advice to forget. (that goes for all of what i'm saying here, too!)
that said, since our shared focus is music, a few resources i would highly recommend are:
music theory and composition music matters, 12tone, charles cornell, music with myles, 8-bit music theory, and this introduction by andrew huang
mixing and production dan worrall (especially this series for fabfilter), kush after hours, red means recording, andrew huang, alice yalcin efe, in the mix
general inspiration nahre sol, ben levin, david hilowitz, game score fanfare, posy, jerobeam fenderson, open reel ensemble, and ELECTRONICOS FANTASTICOS!
(if any readers have their own helpful resources for creating music or any other media, feel free to share in the replies & reblogs! 💓)
of course, on an especially bad day, it might be a challenge to seek out information, let alone retain it. that can feel pretty bad, but remember: be kind to yourself. the next thing you might consider trying is:
#5: consume art you love
not just music. books. shows. movies. games. illustration. animation. whatever moves and inspires you.
but do it intentionally. don't just pull up some random thing the algorithm suggested! check in with yourself about what you want (or are able) to engage with right now. choose accordingly. if you get a little way into it and realize it's not scratching that itch, hit the bricks. check in with yourself again. wash, rinse, repeat, until you find whatever it is that speaks to you right now.
and do it actively, if you can. don't just let it go in one eye and out the other! really pay attention to the work. what do you like about it? what are its themes and motifs? what makes it work so well? what are its flaws, and how much do they matter? what might you do differently? you can write notes as you do this if it helps, but even simply noticing and thinking goes a long way.
what you don't want to do is come at this with a lens of shame or envy. you're not here just to say to yourself, "ugh, if only i could do THAT." it's okay if it happens. use that thought as a springboard for curiosity: "well okay, how DID they do that? do i have the resources for it? if so, how could i apply that to my own work? if not, how can i adapt it, or what do i need to learn?" keep your mind open and approach the work with a sense of wonder.
as a creative person, it's very easy to think, "i should be making something right now, not watching a movie!" but that thought forgets something vital: your art is a response in a conversation. of course the "language" you use is your own, and maybe if you're lucky you'll invent a new word. but most of the words you use have been around long before you were born. you're just one voice in a dialogue that spans continents and generations, and that's okay. it's even the whole point.
none of us is an island. we are profoundly social animals. just as we can't live without eating, we can't make without learning. so half of making art is consuming it. consider this part of the process as well.
and finally,
#6: rest, and live your life
let's say you're in really dire straits. you've tried working slower. you tried changing focus, you tried changing projects. you want to take in new information or actively engage with your favorite art, but you're not in the headspace for it. what now?
take a nap. take a walk. take a shower. eat a nice meal, or an okay one. talk to a friend. maybe even do that chore you've been putting off (you know the one).
it's human to always crave making, but you're not a machine—and even if you were, machines need regular maintenance, too! you wouldn't drive a car that's completely out of gas, and you won't do yourself any favors treating your body that way either.
i know that when you take a break it feels as though you're not accomplishing anything, but you are: you're taking care of your animal self. and while you do that, your creative brain doesn't stop working! much like windows, it has countless background processes running at any given moment, with inscrutable names like "cbdhsvc_692da" or "Microsoft Edge Update Service." it's true, i checked.
when you're stuck on a project and you step away to rest, your brain is still chipping away at your ideas unconsciously. i like to tell people, "it's percolating." much like waiting for a pot of water to boil, that idea is still heating up, even when you take a step away. just be sure to check in on it once in a while. the time will pass, and it'll be boiling again before long. :)
before i go, i'll leave you with one last thing to keep in mind as you try all of these strategies:
be kind to yourself.
being human is just about one of the hardest things you can do. let alone being a human trying to survive capitalism while living with disabilities! the last thing you need on top of that is to overwork yourself, talk to yourself negatively, or treat yourself harshly. there are plenty of other people in the world who do that to you—don't be one of them.
i'm not saying that you shouldn't try to challenge yourself, to test your limits and go above and beyond your ambitions, if that's what you want to do. just remember that hard work and self compassion are not mutually exclusive. so be careful not to bully yourself. take pride in the progress you make, even when it seems small. encourage yourself like you would a friend who's going through a hard time. and when you challenge yourself, be your own cheerleader.
i hope you find this advice helpful! remember, this is just what helps me, so don't feel like you have to follow any of it exactly. maybe taking time to learn new information helps break you out of your rut more than working slowly, so you reach for that tool first. maybe having multiple projects going at once is too distracting for you, so you prefer to stick to one at a time. whatever your needs are, feel free to alter and adapt these ideas to fit you.
thank you for reading, and i wish you the best of luck in your creating.
with care, bee 🐦
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Early voting to beat the lines... the best-laid schemes of mice and men often go awry.
So... yesterday was quite the day.
After being stuck in bed for the past 6 weeks with some mystery slump, I was finally feeling better. So I decided I would try to cram as many errands into my day as possible. That works better for me when I drive out into the world because I end up only having to do one big recovery instead of a bunch of little recoveries.
My to-do list...
Go to the doctor
Vote early
Return oxygen machine to FedEx store for scammy eBay guy
Return Amazon package to the UPS store
Get gasoline for my whip
Go to Discount Tire to get my tires filled for free
Drop a check off for my lawn guy
Mail a secret package to Katrina at the US Post Office
It would have been nice if I could have gone to just one shipping place instead of all three, but the universe has a sense of humor and likes to do shit like that to me on a regular basis.
So, I get my checkup, it goes quick, no long wait, I'm feeling good.
As I get in my car, it starts to rain. It was an ugly day and it actually has not stopped raining to this very moment a day later. Just gray, windy, chilly, and wet. I look up the voting place and start the GPS.
Wipers and music on full blast, it's time to get my vote on.
When I reach my destination, I realize early voting is at some kind of private golf club. And at the center is a recreation center—which is a public building.
So it's like this private/public turducken situation.
I was expecting this errand to take 20 minutes. Because early voting always seemed like a way to get in before the crowds of election day for a more convenient voting experience.
But the parking lot was packed and I feared my expectations were about to be subverted.
As I walk through the parking lot I see a bunch of signs in the ground.
And a particular one caught my eye.
This is bullshit.
Like, just a straight up lie. No truth to it whatsoever.
Amendment 3 in Missouri basically restores abortion rights in the state. And Republicans have taken issue with the following language...
"The Government shall not deny or infringe upon a person's fundamental right to reproductive freedom, which is the right to make and carry out decisions about all matters relating to reproductive health care, including but not limited to prenatal care, childbirth, postpartum care, birth control, abortion care, miscarriage care, and respectful birthing conditions."
They claim the phrasing "but not limited to" means you can give an 8-year-old kid "sex change surgery."
This is how their online flyer puts it...
It could also include a free puppy.
Or a zillion bucks.
Or a clown will come to your house after the abortion and honk your nose.
It's ridiculous and desperate. I honestly don't know how it is legal for them to put a lie like that outside of a polling location, but here we are.
The organization "Missouri Stands with Women" is run by... a man.
It was set up by a lawyer named "Edward Greim" on behalf of the Federalist Society.
His law firm has a lovely biography about him. And a bunch of publicly available contact information. I say that for no reason whatsoever.
The Federalist Society funds all kinds of shit like this. Their main thing is installing conservative judges all over the country who will reinterpret or negate legislation. And they do it all to "stand with women" by taking away their reproductive rights.
Here is the board of directors of the Federalist Society.
Ya know, before I looked this up, I said to myself, "I bet it's going to be a sausage fest." I am psychic.
I think it would be more accurate to say they stand with A woman.
Just one.
And she sucks.
Nicole is a law professor at Notre Dame. She chose her Catholicism over her right to choose. The Catholic Church will fuck your rights and your children and Nicole will help them do it.
Anyway... back to my quick and easy voting experience...
So as I'm walking in to vote I keep passing a ton of these awful signs. I notice an older woman standing next to the aforementioned "child sex change" sign and she says, "Can I talk to you about Amendment 3?"
At this point, I'm pretty angry. I look her dead in the eyes and say with my most assholish tone, "NO." as I walk past her.
And then she finishes her sentence...
"...to protect the reproductive rights of women."
Ah, dammit.
I thought she was an old Karen but she was cool as heck. Standing out in the rain telling people the sign is bullshit. I wanted to turn around and apologize but I was stuck in full social anxiety mode so I just kept walking.
If that old lady happens to have a Tumblr and follows me and is willing to read this giant story... I just want to say I am sorry. I thought you were awful and I should have let you finish your sentence. You're super cool and I'm happy there are folks like you fighting for what is right.
I get inside and a young woman greets me. She tells me the line is in the next room and points. I still wasn't quite sure what the situation was. The parking lot being full gave me pause, but I was still hopeful I could have a swift early voting experience.
But I walk through the doors and into a huge gymnasium and my heart sinks.
It's hard to represent in pictures how long this line is.
It goes all the way to the end of the gym, loops around, and comes back. At first I was not too discouraged, because there was a nice gentle ramp at the start of the line.
But then I notice several sets of stairs at different stages of the line. And I'm just thinking how hard it would be to stand in this line and then also having to go up and down several sets of stairs.
So I go back to the young woman working there and ask what their accessible voting options are. And she told me I could do curbside voting and points outside. I then notice a line of cars wrapped around the parking lot. I don't know how I didn't see them walking in, but I guess I was too busy being a jerk to elderly progressive women.
My biggest concern was time.
The longer this takes, the more energy I use up, the longer my eventual recovery will be.
They tell me the car option is the slowest. And I could be in line for 2 to 3 hours. And then an old man who seemed to be in charge walks over and tells me the fastest option is to stand in line.
So I walk back out to my car and grab my cane and decide to try the long serpentine gynasium line.
I start walking up the ramp and some of the other folks see how slow and labored I'm walking and they start encouraging me. "You can do it! You got this!" Which I suppose was meant to be a positive helpful thing. But I found it to be embarrassing.
I get to the end of the line and notice most of the line has bleachers directly next to it. So I decide to sit down and rest and figure out how I am going to survive this experience.
It took me a while to recover from the long walk to this spot. I watched a bunch of people pass me by and the line was actually getting much longer as I rested. I was not really sure what to do. I was trying to problem-solve this situation but the answer that kept popping up in my mind was just... "go home."
But I felt this was too important and that wasn't really an option.
My best idea was to ask someone if they would hold my spot in line. Perhaps I could just sit in the bleachers and follow them around in the line, staying as close to them as I could. But my social anxiety was set to maximum and I was not finding the courage to ask someone.
After about 10 minutes of sitting, resting, and thinking, I basically say, "Fuck it, I'll try to stand in line."
I get up and start walking to the end of the line.
Then I hear a voice yell out to me.
"Hey, man! Come over here! This is your spot!"
A young man was waving at me. He was accompanied by his wife. Both of them were dressed in black and they had a sort of goth skater aesthetic going on. He had a competitively bushy beard, but with less gray. And she had very vivid purple hair.
I was a little confused and still processing what was happening. Then they both started waving at me to join them in line. They remembered I got there just before and told me I should be in front of them. I walk over and thank them. Then he suggests...
"Hey, why don't you just sit in the bleachers and follow us around the line."
He suggested my idea!
Without me asking!
I felt like he read my mind or something.
Can bearded people read each others' minds? Was this some beard skill I was unaware of?
"I got you, man. You just sit and we'll keep your place."
And his violet hair'd significant other agreed. "Yeah, we got you."
The kindness of strangers was more accessible than my polling place and I was just so thankful in that moment.
So I sat in the bleachers and watched them traverse the line. In the middle of the gym there were some teenagers playing basketball. And so I just rested and watched them play.
That young man in the red pants was like a goddamn Harlem Globetrotter. He was just embarrassing the others. He was bouncing the ball behind his back and through his legs and then he just danced around his opponents like a figure skater. It was such an unbalanced matchup. He might as well have been playing 4th graders. Not only was he significantly faster and more maneuverable, but he was consistently hitting 3-pointers.
And then during a break, he ran towards the hoop, jumped from the free throw line, flew all the way to the net, grabbed onto the rim, and proceeded to do several pull ups as if they were the easiest thing in the world. I don't think I've seen anyone jump that far and that high in real life and it was just a bonkers display of athleticism.
I spent the entire wait watching him humiliate the others—hoping he would get a full ride scholarship to some prestigious university.
And I hoped the other boys paid attention in school and got straight As, because basketball was not going to work out for them.
As my new goth skater friends progressed through the line, I would make sure to keep sight of them. Every once in a while I'd give them a head nod to acknowledge we were in this together. After an hour and a half they were at the final segment of the line, so I sat next to the wheelchair folks.
I probably could have argued to sit with them in the first place. But I really did not feel like making the case that I was just as disabled as them and needed that level of consideration. The old man running things seemed quite stressed and was putting out 8 fires at once. And my anxiety wasn't really cooperating enough to be assertive in my needs.
But it worked out in the end, so I'm not going to dwell on the lack of accommodation for people who weren't *visually* disabled.
My new bearded friend neared the end and waved me over. I thanked him and his wife profusely.
I joked, "Thank you for adopting a voter."
They seemed confused by my joke.
"No problem, man. Happy to help."
I told him and his wife they truly saved me. "I honestly don't think I would have made it through the line." And then I looked back...
I said, "As crazy as this is, I do find this kind of turnout encouraging." His wife agreed and said, "We were saying the same thing!" And then I thought, "Can the wives of bearded people absorb the mind reading ability? I hope she can't read my mind right now. Although, I'm mostly thinking that her hair is a really cool shade of purple, so she'd probably find that complimentary."
As I waited to get my ballot I could hear the happy couple behind me. They were very cute. They were making fun of each other in a very lovey-dovey fashion. I had high hopes they were going to grow old and gray and purple together based on their chemistry. And I was just so thankful they were able to recognize that I needed help without me asking. Because I probably would have just caved to my anxiety and not asked for help otherwise.
I got my ballot and sat down to fill in all of the appropriate squares. Thankfully I had prepared a cheat sheet on my phone.
It was an exact replica so I was able to copy it and finish quite rapidly.
Then I fed my votes into the vote-eating monster and they gave me a sticker.
My quick 20 minute adventure to vote early only took 2.5 hours!
And because I didn't want to buck tradition, I stood outside in the wind and the rain and took a voting selfie.
Yep, that seems about right.
Ah, crap... that was only the second thing on my to-do list.
Let's speedrun the rest of this story, shall we?
I drove to FedEx. I hauled a 40 pound box inside. I plopped it on the counter and said, "Man, this thing is heavy!" as I tried to catch my breath. The 20 year old working there then lifted it like it was a feather and I felt great about that.
I drove to the gas station because I was nearly on empty—that is both a metaphor and not a metaphor. I filled my ride with go juice.
I noticed I was a mile from the tire store and they fill up tires for free. So I did that and the guy was super nice and complimented my tires. I felt both weird and proud about having my tires complimented. Like, I had nothing to do with my tires being nice. But I accepted the praise on their behalf.
I drove to the UPS store. The last time I was there I made a scene. They refused to box up a return and I got upset and wasn't feeling well and they had to find a chair for me to sit in because I was going to faint. So I was hoping the same woman wasn't there, but she was. She didn't recognize me, so it was fine.
I drove to my lawn guy's house. He wasn't home. I dropped a check in his mailbox. My checks have corgis on them. My checks are cute.
I drove to the post office. I sent a secret package to my bestie, Katrina. I'd tell you what is in it, but it is an inside joke and you wouldn't get it. The woman noticed my voting sticker and I couldn't help thinking about what I just accomplished to get that sticker.
On my way out I noticed a miracle.
2 of the 4 doors were fixed!
I mean, I don't know why they couldn't fix all 4, but now the employees won't freeze in the winter. So I take that as a win. It only took a year and a half to accomplish and I'm sure all of my phone calls and emails did not help at all. But I'm going to pretend I saved the day regardless.
And then... I drove home.
5 hours of errands.
I was so fucking tired. My back was on fire with pain. I immediately collapsed into my bed. I passed out. And I slept for 14 hours.
The End
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Strange question, but I'm curious. Do you have a least favourite computer?
Ohhhh, good one. I'm going to make some enemies for these, I'm sure.
Least favorite vintage computer:
Apple I
Not for any technical reasons, or anything about its history. I happen to like and respect Steve Wozniak, and everything he did in the service of computing in the 1970s. His ROM monitor known as WOZMON is only 256 bytes so it can fit into a first generation 1702A EPROM, which is damned impressive. I use the newer EWOZMON regular basis on other 6502 machines.
The Apple I exemplifies a computer that no longer exists as a computer. Rather, it's become the legendary trading card for the ultrawealthy techbro types who seek to commodify the history of the home computer revolution that they didn't bother to study. It's been reduced to no more than a static display piece, and a cornerstone of revisionist history, ignoring the larger picture.
An Apple I is considered too monetarily valuable to risk applying power to or fixing, "gotta leave it original!" with failed, leaky capacitors, doing nothing. Well if you can't use it, it ceases to be a computer because it isn't computing anything. They had almost a dozen of them at VCF West XIV, most of which were under plexiglass with a hired guard to keep an eye on them because the high price they fetch. Only one was powered up at a time under the watchful gaze of experts, handling things with museum gloves. Unlike other exhibits, these were not available to be touched or interacted with (which defeats the whole reason people enjoy vintage computer festivals).
Assuming you look beyond the hype, and get your hands on a working Apple I? It turns out to be quite underpowered and limited -- which makes sense, Woz was optimizing the shit outta his part count and budget! I wish I had his skills. It was a major technical achievement to get it to do that much with so little. It's a TV Typewriter (RIP Don Lancaster) bolted to a minimal 6502. If i had one at my disposal in the 1970s, I'd probably do like the contemporary hackers did and modify it as my budget and skills allowed. But it's 2024 and an Apple I -- you aren't allowed to do that. No, if I had an Apple I, I could sell it and buy a house with that money.
If it weren't for all that, I think I'd probably just be indifferent to it, or maybe even like it for what it is.
Least favorite general computer:
eMachines eTower 600is
What a piece of shit. I had one when it was new, running Windows ME and it was hot garbage. I could not stand this underpowered excuse for a computer after a few months when the new computer sheen wore off. Floppy drive died too soon. Didn't come with the advertised 64MB of RAM (who puts 33MB of RAM in a computer?). Hard drive was only 10GB, kept filling it up. It was filled with bloatware, the keyboard was cheap garbage. I don't begrudge my parents for buying it, they didn't know any better and I was too young to have any say in the matter. That said, it endured the shortest tenure of any computer in my house to date.
Never obsolete my ass.
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xv. everlong - t.w.
pairing: female driver!reader x toto wolff
word count: 3.0k
warnings: age gap relationship, team principal x driver relationship, cursing, marijuana use, alcohol use, toto being down bad per usual, light angst, toto is not the best person for a minute, mentions of divorce/separation, some lighttttt smut (the heavy smut will be included in the next chapter! promise!) oral (f! receiving), some realllll sweet n tender shit, yadayadayada
a/n: this chapter is probably one of my top five favorites, if not favorite chapter of this series. although it would be pretty hard to top chapter xii., i really enjoyed writing this one! to set the mood for the chapter, i have a few song recs to listen to as you read! please try to listen to them in order, as they really set the tone/vibe of golden girl x toto! <3 also, a huge shoutout to the anon who inspired me to write about gg x toto smoking together!! :)
little hell - city and colour
alkaline - sleep token
one way (feat. t-pain) - 6lack, t-pain
everlong - foo fighters
skin - mac miller
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“toto, tell me. are you in love with her?”
yes, susie. i am.
she is a divine being, bringing me to my knees at the sight of her. she is the sun, a bright, radiant beacon of light and warmth. her touch alone makes me weak. my mind is consumed with thoughts of her every waking second. i’ve been apart from her for so long, i can barely hold it together right now.
the team principal inhales sharply, letting out a shaky breath, “i – i can’t answer that.”
“you are, aren’t you?” susie’s expression is unreadable, “you’re in love with her. if this was just some fuck you wouldn’t be acting this way.”
there it was again.
that pang of jealousy deeply interwoven in her fiery retort.
“susie,” toto begins, scrambling for formulate some sort of coherent response, “i don’t know what to say or how to respond in a manner that will make this any more–”
“no,” she holds up a hand, “you do not have to explain yourself to me any further. i know you love that girl. you wouldn’t have let her pull that little stunt if you didn’t.”
“it wasn’t just some little stunt–”
“exactly,” susie shakes her head, tears glistening in the light, “it wasn’t just some publicity stunt to you. i could tell that you enjoyed that kiss, toto. you were practically making out with her for fuck’s sake.”
“susie,” toto rises to his feet, “we made an agreement, remember? we wanted this. both of us.”
“but that doesn’t mean i have to act like it doesn’t tear me apart seeing you with someone new. someone younger than me. someone who is far more beautiful than i ever will be. someone who can bear more children for you. someone who will–”
“susie, stop. cut that shit out right now.”
“why?” she demands, whipping her head towards the team principal, “why are you so stone cold as i’m falling apart in front of you? why does this not bother you?”
“because,” toto coughs, clearing his throat, “i don’t love you anymore. that’s why. all of those feelings, they’re long gone. when i look at you, i don’t feel love. you’re one of my good friends, one of my business partners, and the mother of my children. i feel respect, and a deeply rooted companionship. but i just don’t feel love. not even an inkling.”
her eyes narrow, “oh, so i was wrong. you’re not just in love. you’re in deep.”
“and i’m not going to stand here and play childish little games,” the team principal scoffs, “you’ve never acted this way before, and i am not sure why this girl is bothering you so badly when i’ve mentioned other women in the past.”
susie’s lower lip curls into a sneer, “did it ever occur to you that this bothers me so much because i know her? because we were friends at one point? she has a relationship with the academy, toto. i’ve met with her several times. we’ve spoken on a regular basis at one point. it just feels wrong.”
“well,” toto shrugs, “she’s going to be around for a while, susie. you may want to get used to seeing her face around here.”
“you’re fucking ridiculous,” susie snarls, raising a pointed finger at the team principal, “you’ve been a terrible father lately. you’ve been a horrid team principal. and the worst part, you’ve completely lost it. ten years ago, you would have never put your reputation on the line like this.”
the team principal remained silent as his former wife gathered her composure, cursing under her breath as she slung the strap of her purse over her shoulder, nearly stomping out of the office. the department surrounding his space probably eavesdropped on the entire heated exchange, but he didn’t care.
after monaco, it seemed like he had less and less fucks to give these days.
licking his lower lip, toto almost crashes down into his chair, collapsing as a groan rumbles in his chest.
so much for her taking that news well.
and if he happened to marry this girl?
oh god.
susie would probably have a conniption. fuck, she would probably ransack his entire office, defacing each and every one of his items. shit, she would even probably try to find a way to get him fired somehow.
well, he didn’t entirely blame her. it wasn’t like he kept her in the loop about his personal life or romantic relationships. although they had a pretty amicable relationship after their separation, the subject of new love was always like rubbing salt in a wound.
a wound that toto thought had healed. but apparently not. her explosive outburst in the office reaffirmed that.
there was a pang in his chest, squeezing in his heart as he hunched over the desk, burying his head in his arms.
oh, how he missed his golden girl.
god, wasn’t that fucked up.
his ex-wife of nearly a decade just basically professed she still harbored romantic feelings for him, and here he was, fretting as he yearned over his new love.
he needed to see her, oh so badly.
but how? although they were only approximately forty miles apart, it felt as if there were thousands upon thousands of miles between them. it was more than likely due to the nature of their current situation, but it left him aching for one singular thing.
her touch.
fuck, he craved her touch. the light drag of her nails against his skin as her fingertips traced along his toned back and shoulder blades. the wisp of her hair as she buried her head into his chest. the ghost of her mouth of his as their bodies intertwined together.
her presence alone was enough to send him spiraling.
it wasn’t like they were forced to go their separate ways between monaco and montreal. it was just suggested heavily by their pr teams that they do so, just so that williams and mercedes could launch their own personal investigations in regards to their relationship.
and for the time being, it appeared that things were all cleared. they had broken no rules. they didn’t breach any contracts. well, not entirely. mercedes, williams, and the fia did not need to know about the hours the two of you spent discussing your decision to join toto at mercedes.
besides, they did not need to know that you were naked, basking in the warmth of him, body tangled with his when you made that decision.
the official contract talks would have to be scheduled here soon.
after all, toto was running out of time.
he needed that second driver.
and he had you. it wasn’t entirely official quite yet, but he knew he had you.
time to start making things official then, huh?
not like he had to really, you already did that for him in monaco.
plucking his phone off his desk, the team principal starts to type out a lengthy text message, swallowing the lump in his throat as his thumb hovers over the send icon.
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“what are you feeling for dinner over there, eeyore?”
alex’s voice snaps you out of your zombie-esque trance, your head swiveling as you glance over your shoulder, “i’ll just eat a little bit from whatever you make. i’m not really hungry.”
“oh come on,” alex rolls his eyes, yelling from across the kitchen, “you have to eat something! fuck our diets right now. what do you want? i’ll literally make anything for you. i am begging you to eat something.”
“it’s rare for alex to beg,” a giggle sounds from your right, light and airy, “it wouldn’t be a bad idea though, to eat a little something.”
exhaling, your gaze falls on lily as she sits beside you, perched in the plush chair, “i’m just not that hungry.”
“is it because of everything going on?” lily cocks her head, reaching for her wine glass, “i mean, i can’t imagine what it must be like to be you right now. you have to focus on your racing, your diet, keeping up on social media. yet, you also have to factor in your parents, your briefings, and your personal life. it must be a lot, considering what happened in monaco. by the way, what did your parents think? were they shocked? happy for you?”
“well,” your eyes drift over to the ledge of the balcony, taking in the way the sun was beginning its descent over the horizon, “they weren’t necessarily jumping for joy that i happened to fall for a fifty-two year old man. i think they’ll feel a lot better once they meet him. toto has this charm that has draws you in. i’m sure he would win them over in a heartbeat.”
“just like he did with you?” lily teases, leaning over to prod you playfully, “you know, you could have just told me and alex about him. we would’ve kept things private for you!”
“i know,” you bite the inside of your cheek, “but there was just so much risk involved with telling people about it. and i was scared of how you guys would have reacted, what you would have said, or if you would have told james or the fia or–”
“hey,” lily places a tender hand on your shoulder, “we don’t always choose who we fall in love with. we can choose how we act on those feelings, but that is just ultimately something for the universe to decide. you just happened to fall for a devastatingly handsome, recently divorced team principal.”
“i heard that!” alex calls, earning an eye roll from lily.
“i’m just trying to help her feel better! we both know that man is gorgeous!”
“i miss that gorgeous man,” you bring your knees to your chest, resting your chin between them, “i know we didn’t have to spend the brief break apart, but our media teams advised us to. you have no idea how badly i’m fighting the urge to just tell him to take the next flight to–”
yet, before you can finish your sentence, your phone vibrates on the table, notifying you that you had a new text message.
eagerly, you snatch it up, eyes scanning over the screen.
i miss you, beautiful girl. i’m not sure where you are, but i am taking the next flight to monaco as soon as i possibly can. i should be there by tonight. could we rendezvous at my place? if you need me to pay for your own ticket, i will. just let me know.
“what did he say?” lily peers over your shoulder.
“he’s coming to monaco,” your heart skips a beat as the realization washes over you, “wait, i’m already here! he’ll be here tonight! he wants me to meet him at his place.”
“well,” lily’s eyes glimmer, a bright smile enveloping her features, “looks like you need to eat, take a shower, and get ready missy! alex, will you start your shower for me?”
“i already heard the entire thing,” the driver tuts as he strolls onto the balcony, two plates in hand, “eat first, and then i’ll start a shower for you. from the sound of it, it seems like you’ll have a long night ahead, so you need to eat up before you get your guts rearranged.”
heat flourishes into your cheeks at his comment, “i – oh my god. you don’t know that for sure.”
“i think i do,” a smug paints his lips as he sets the plate down beside you, “there’s a reason why you’ve been so glowy and bubbly these last few weeks. i know you’re not smoking or doing any drugs, so there’s only one other thing i can think of.”
“i cannot stand you,” you mumble, sheer embarrassment taking hold.
“and that’s why you’re sitting down,” alex lets out a chuckle, “don’t worry buttercup, the teasing is only going to get worse from here on out.”
although you were more than grateful for alex allowing you to stay with him in monaco between the two races, it did have it pitfalls. and that was one of them. ever since you told him about toto, the teasing was relentless. it was never malicious, always lighthearted. how an older brother would pester his younger sister. which, you didn’t mind.
ever since the meeting with williams, your emotions had been nothing but a tumultuous torrent of anxiety, regret, and well, terror.
you were terrified that toto was going to choose preserving his career over your relationship. after all, you couldn’t blame him. he was one of mercedes’ spearheads, one of the most respected and dominant forces among the paddocks in his role as ceo and team principal.
he was a father as well, with three children whom he loved dearly. he was perceived as a family man, who often toted jack on his shoulders or brought him along with to races. additionally, you couldn’t shake the one thing that had been gnawing away at you, completely tearing you apart.
what did susie think of you? what did she think of your relationship? was she going to try and win toto back? did she still have feelings for him?
if they happened to meet in the time you were apart, what did she say? how did he respond? was he guilty somehow? was he going to admit to you that after seeing her, some emotions resurfaced?
god, your head was your own personal little hell.
and who knew if you were ever going to crawl out.
however, deep in your heart, you knew that you needed to see him. you needed to tell him the very thing that had been clawing at the depths of your very conscience.
you loved him.
and he needed to know.
and by god, you were determined to tell him.
well, it looked like tonight would be your perfect opportunity.
time to prepare for the worst.
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“go on, take another hit.”
your fingers pinch the rolled paper, bringing it to your mouth. lashes fluttering, you inhale, the harshness of the contents flooding your lungs, burning your throat. once you were satisfied with the intake, you purse your lips, smoke billowing out.
“good girl,” he hums, fingers squeezing your thigh, “i missed you, you know that?”
the corners of your lips curl into a blissful grin, “and i missed you. so much. more than you’ll ever know.”
the lights of monaco glitter in the distance, casting a soft glow over the ocean as the waves lap the shore, foam encasing the gritty shore. hints of tangerine poke out from above the horizon, promising of the sun’s arrival. the scent of marijuana lingers in the air as toto taps the joint against the tray, his brows knit together with concentration.
above you, stars gleam, dotting the indigo hue that swathed the sky. all around, the mediterranean sea stretched for miles, the lights from various boats and yachts blinking, a gentle reminder that you were not alone.
although, you were in your own little world, utterly enamored and allured by the man beside you.
toto arrived to monaco around eleven-thirty p.m., not arriving to his luxurious property until about midnight. although it was well later than you expected, you were bright-eyed and bushy tailed, oh so ready to reunite with the team principal.
even though it was well past the hours he was normally up and about, he offered to take you on his yacht, where the two of you could just spend some time alone together.
of course, it was an offer you couldn’t refuse.
especially when he mentioned that he had picked up a “special treat for his special girl.”
that treat was a tin of five pre-rolled joints, neatly packed together. the papers encasing them were oh so cute, a light blue with little fluffy, white clouds. the tin itself was to die for, with snoopy as the red baron, a cartoon bubble to his right stating, “up, up, and away!”
his plug was definitely a woman, but you didn’t mind one bit. after all, with packaging that cute? how could you be upset? toto informed you that the tin was yours to keep, and he was more than happy to keep it filled for you. you just had to say the word, and he would contact his connection.
smoking was probably the last thing you should be doing between races, but it wasn’t like the fia was testing the drivers regularly. even though the testing was random, toto informed you that once he got the word of any potential tests, he would find a way to let you know.
you guys had already bent the rules enough, so why not bend them a little bit more?
“hey,” his is low, so gentle it was barely audible, “can i tell you something?”
he’s situated between your legs, spreading your thighs apart as you sit on the sundeck, the cool surface sending a shiver down your spine as it meets with heated skin.
“of course,” you murmur, a hand connecting with his cheek, “what is it?”
“well for one, i want to fuck the shit out of you right now,” his eyes are glossy, pupils dilated as they hone in on you, “but i need to tell you something first.”
there’s a slight stubble as it grazes the pad of your thumb, his plush lips parting ever so slightly, “what is it, toto?”
he’s lowered now, his mouth hovering above your pussy, the thin fabric of your shorts the only barrier between his lips and sweet, sweet, relief. the relief he had been desperate for these last few days, pacing back and forth in his office as he attempted to maintain his composure. to keep it together.
but here you were now, looking oh so breathtaking as the moonlight cascaded down, illuminating your skin with a beautiful silvery hue.
you were a goddess.
a truly divine being. the one he wanted to worship every single second, every single day for the rest of his life. the one who brought him to knees. the one who made him so utterly weak.
he was in far too deep now, deeply lost and consumed by you.
and god, he never wanted to go back.
even if he wanted tried, he knew he couldn’t.
and now, there was only you in this moment.
drawing him in, coaxing him to fall even deeper.
“i love you.”
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Out of all the bad people in the story, i dislike Director Ma the most. Reading about krs sitting quietly in his chair trying to get a day off to see cjs & lsh hurt alot. Why do you think krs didnt do anything to get revenge on Ma?
Oh, I absolutely agree. Director Ma is THE WORST. The kind of emotional manipulation this man did to KRS? Disgusting. Utterly repulsive.
I was honestly so glad that it was OG Cale in the side-story and not KRS who heard him say... that, but unfortunately, the fact that Director Ma DARED to try guilt-trip OG Cale!KRS for taking a VACATION of all things, to his face, when we all know that OG KRS was a workaholic who rarely ever took days off? It means this sort of thing wasn't new. For all we know, this could have been a regular occurrence in the office. Not this line specifically, but this… general dismissal of KRS's feelings, while simultaneously taking advantage of his emotions and sense of responsibility. It's the "He's not even crying during a funeral" all over again. Those freaking monsters at the Company, how freaking dare they. Just thinking about it makes me angry.
Now, about your question. Why do you think KRS didn't do anything to get revenge on Director Ma?
I actually considered it in the past. We know Cale is someone perfectly capable of taking revenge and getting even. So why would he let this jerk get away with such behavior when clearly he had enough power in the Company to make a difference?
Here are some of my theories.
One, it could be that Director Ma was useful. You might remember, during the Sealed God's Test arc, Cale mentioned knowing the leaders of the shelters and remembering how he was used to asking them for help and cooperation in the past, with much struggle. Director Ma might have been one of many, many individuals that KRS tolerated "for the greater good". As long as he was only a jerk to KRS as a Team Leader and left his teammates alone, I imagine KRS did not think much about his own hurt. He was too practical. If Director Ma was evil like, let's say, Adin, and was planning harm to other people, Cale certainly would never let it go. But a common… jerk, for the lack of a better word? He could have shrugged it off easily.
Two, maybe it was because Director Ma was a senior. Cale is actually really, really Korean in that aspect. Multiple times in the story Cale had a habit of considering how he should treat his seniors. He even remarked about the White Star that "I don't care if he is a total senior, that guy is a crazy bastard from now on". So, the simple cultural habit of respecting his seniors could be at play here. Yes, Director Ma was way out of line with his words, but those were the words of a senior. So even if Cale understood that it wasn't fair to be treated like this, he might have felt obligated to accept it because of the traditional Korean values of social hierarchy.
Three, maybe it was a sense of helplessness. One of the moments that struck me really hard in the flashback when LSH & CJS died, was the fact that "no one told KRS to wipe his nosebleed". Once KRS lost all his friend, he felt isolated. Without anyone to defend him. Director Ma wasn't the only a**hole he had to deal with on a regular basis in the Company. Perhaps, due to his depression, KRS simply grew used to such disrespectful treatment until he accepted it as a norm. Which is really freaking sad, but I could see it happening. I really do think that transmigration snapped Cale out of a 10-year-long streak of depression and workaholism. …Well, maybe not the second part, heh.
Four, there could be complexities to his relationship with Director Ma. KRS worked over a decade in the Company, after all. Perhaps there was something in their history that made KRS unable to act against him. Blackmail, for example? I don't know what kind of blackmail would work on KRS of all people, but. Perhaps it was simply emotional blackmail. Maybe KRS felt guilty over being Team Leader, because the spot was meant to be inherited by CJS. Maybe Director Ma helped him in the past and KRS felt like he owed him. Who knows? 10 years is a long time.
Here, there's my answer. None of those reasons make Director Ma's treatment of KRS justifiable, of course. But it would explain how such a dumb person avoided getting utterly annihilated... Because we all know Cale could have done it with ease. But relationships between co-workers can be complicated, so.
...Let's all be glad OG Cale got to avenge KRS by simply being himself 😂
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beyond "pup and cub": analyzing twilight and wild's relationship
beloved by most, twilight and wild's relationship is one of the pillars of linked universe. the two brothers, closer than anyone else in the chain, who trust and keep each other in check. even before the events of jojo's comic, these two links knew each other from the same quest.
right? in some aspects... wrong.
(one extra note before we start, considering everything that goes through the fandom on a regular basis: this is not a trope-bash. sure, their fanon relationship isn't everyone's cup of tea (it sure isn't mine), but my goal is to share an analysis based strictly on canon, nothing but real observations and the honest truth.)
for the sake of everyone's dashes, this will be under a readmore but it's a really important read for the entire fandom so i implore you to click through.
x
it's well-established canon that wolfie was a major part of wild's journey. even though wild never knew that the wolf was a fellow link, he trusted the "blue-eyed beast" with his life.
x
on what could be twilight's deathbed, wild tells him, "you've got so much to live for". he then reminisces back to his own quest, and the wolf he knew then. there's something crucial to note there, which the fandom did spot when the comic was released;
x
during the events of botw, wolfie was old. really old. grizzled and shaggy, a rusted chain shackled to his paw that was eventually removed. compared to twilight's wolf form we see in lu, we can make the conclusion that wild is telling twilight that he needs to live for his own future.
wild knows twilight before they meet in lu. twilight does not.
by the time i finally post this, there is even more canon evidence besides these panels. justification has been a long time in the making, and i've been drafting this post since february. we'll get to the additional waves of evidence later on, but for now, let's do a major reset analysis of their relationship throughout lu so far.
twilight gives reasonable advice to wild:
x
twilight doesn't scold wild for wanting to kill for the sake of it? wild doesn't sneak off and hunt his own game? absolute blasphemy... but it's canon.
mutual praise/bonding:
x x
after trying twilight's soup recipe, wild doesn't even have any hard feelings.
everybody loves a brotherly hug :)
mutual respect/bonding:
x x x x x
notice the lack of pushed boundaries, even when the two get on each others' nerves. wild and twilight tease more openly than some of the others, but wild is good at backing off.
instead of rolling his eyes or telling everybody how "stupidly dangerous" it is to nock three arrows at once, twilight simply smiles as he watches wild demonstrate his cool technique.
twilight choosing not to scold wild:
x x
that's right, folks: twilight respects wild as a person with his own agency. it's not wild's fault that he can only scavenge weak blades, and nobody was thinking rationally during the fight with the iron knuckle.
twilight scolding wild:
x x x
that's not to say that twilight always holds back. yes, he isn't pleased with having to track him down, or taking a dangerous hit to the face, or wild's... interesting way to use his swords. wild stands up for himself, though, and twilight still respects that.
the word you've all been waiting for:
x x
yes, i know how to admit when i was wrong. the word 'protege' has been used to describe wild's relationship to twilight. but don't get so smug yet- this hasn't been said in canon, and what jojo specifically says is that wild is "unofficially" twilight's protege. it's pretty clear that their relationship isn't defined by the boundaries of mentor-protege, and even if it was, there's no sign of the unhealthy power imbalance that is found so frequently in fandom.
brotherly teasing:
x x x
this style of teasing is commonplace in lu canon. i'd be surprised if i saw this much lighthearted banter from a "mentor twilight" who thinks that wild is a feral infant, or a "protege wild" who is rightfully scared of the short-tempered twilight's every move.
backstory stuff:
x
twilight is still trying to figure out how to approach being there for wild. he doesn't know as much as wild thought he does, so he relies on relatability with his own story.
sunset + moving forward
x x
and so we return to this panel in its entirety, and additional proof of what i wanted to say all the way back in february. i think wild says it all perfectly himself; he's used to twilight guiding him from afar, letting him make his own decisions and mistakes. this may be something that both of them have to (re)learn during this adventure, but wild knows what he needs and how to communicate it.
x
i'll leave the analysis here. it's been a long time in the making and quite frankly i've forgotten any additional points i would have made. i'm a member of the patreon so i am tempted to wait yet again... but maybe, those who made it to the end of my post will look at wild and twilight with new eyes themselves.
never stop inventing headcanons, but i think it's important to take a step back and reevaluate what we've accepted as the truth every once in a while.
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Getting with Mitch Rapp HC's
After an intense who knows how long a bitch finally cracked and decided to write about Mitch Rapp since he’s a sweetie who doesn’t get talked about enough… like I been under the tag and I know writing takes so much time and effort so I decided to step tf in and give it a turn… bare with me
We all know after the death of Katrina this man went completely off grid, quit college, didn’t speak to his brother, went all in on avenging her on his own….. To take down a whole cell and the mastermind… yeah, white boy won’t shoot up a school, but will become an almost martyr (he’s what the govt would deadass hire, and keep on rotation)
ANYWAYS
I dead do feel like Mitch would we cautious, wary, and sus as hell with a civilian s/o
Let’s unpack: this man after Katrina probably wasn’t seeing anyone after that being emotionally scarred and whatnot (maybe he had to fuck someone or a few for the sake of a mission or kiss them, but it was just business). So the likelihood of this man entertaining someone else like with intention and not just some one fuck wonder is gonna be crazy ngl. This man has to look over his shoulder and his trust issues got trust issues, like his energy on a regular basis doesn’t scream “stay away”
But anyway, to catch his attention I feel like would be by constantly meeting him in mundane situations. I’m not doing the whole “you’re partners” trope, my black ass isn’t in this luv
Laundry room in the apartment and y’all get clothes mixed in on accident and you end up with his shirt or something— or the age old tale of him getting your underwear…. Or y’all shifting through the mixed laundry picking out what’s yours lmfaoooo
Mail getting dropped off in the wrong box or something
Bumping into each other at the grocery store and Mitch has the bare necessities in his basket and yours is like girl dinner coded
And the thing is, he’s not necessarily rude in interactions (when him throwing knives and punching his punching bag got loud and the person who owned the building asked Mitch to keep it down, and Mitch was respectful and said sure…. He’s not an asshole) but he might be on edge and try to speed things up
I feel like what might get the ball rolling might be a few different things: him seeing someone following you home that he KNOWS doesn’t live in his building (ik this man recognized everyone who lives in that bitch), being catcalled aggressively while walking home, seeing you stay in your car because a sus ass person is waiting for you to get out your car so he comes up to your window to help you out, or some comment about a terrorist attack “shoutout to terrorists, bc the US when to Afghanistan saw all this oil and snatched their chain. “We” (bc ain’t no WE here) snatch their chain and they retaliate, then we yell “it’s the Muslims” to spark a debate
Ngl he’s gonna have to let you cook with that one bc I feel like the “shoutout to terrosits” would’ve had that man spiraling and attacking you immediately. IK that man would spazz on the spot…. So let’s keep it to the safer options hm?
Soooooo after that it would spark a bit of conversation and solidify the familiarity bc here is your neighbor that you tend to see sparklingly helping you out
And being the person I am, I feel like as a thank you you’d leave him some brownies, cookies, or maybe a whole ass lasagna with instructions on how to best reheat at his doorstep being too shy to outright do it
Mans is confused but I feel like he’d take it to be nice, leave it in the fridge for like 2 days until he’s back late from a meeting and needs something in him and the only in that barren ass fridge is the lasagna…. He indulges and once he finds it’s good as hell he bodies half of it
He probably has it for lunch/dinner next day too. And then like washes it and knocks on your door to like give it back. He tells you thanks and you didn’t need to, but you say otherwise. And at this point with his stubborn ass if you’d invite over for dinner he’d respectfully decline so now there needs to be an event that puts him in your place of residence
Cue you taking a tumble on iced pavement
Mwah, inconvenience 😘
And now Mitch being at the right place wrong time, has to help you up and probably check for a concussion since that fall was nasty. He helped you into the elevator then into your place to help check your head and then like how you’re functioning bc goddamn. Once he figures out your fine, he’ll tell you to get a professional opinion and he makes you an nice ice pack and gives advice for how to take care of it
He thinks he’s good to leave you until he sees you struggling to get your bearings. He hates that he does this, but asks if you need any help since your mind is scrambled. Maybe he gets your some Advil, but then realizes you can’t take it on an empty stomach (he’s done it too many damn times himself) and so he looks into your fridge for something to heat up in the microwave to give you before you take the pill
This is where the relationship starts and y’all make small talk, and how this is the longest you ever seen this man. He smirks, and snarks back. Once he gives you the food and sees you take the pill he’s off the clock and bids you a goodnight
Until you see him gain tomorrow since he probably starts to check in on you, not like he’s been getting emotionally fed by having an associate outside of work that isn’t trying to kill him or isn’t Stan or Irene. Just a normie…. But he be lying about his feelings
Next interaction is him coming back from a semi rough work week, and you catch him before he goes in and since he looks over it. Maybe a home cooked meal could help? You invite him over, no strings attached and go ok your way to get the braised short ribs out the oven for the mashed potatoes. You don’t tell him what’s for dinner tho
Thinking nothing will result of this, you get a knock at your door 30 minutes later with him and his hair still slightly damp. And maybe like a case in his beer bc he was told to never show up empty handed (so cute). Then bam! Y’all have some nice conversation, Mitch making sure to keep the attention off him and his job and do some information digging about you. School you went to, parents, hobbies, etc
He’s also scarfing down the ribs and such, you’re probably going to send him with food home tbh. He looks like he’ll need it
After that it’s really wraps, like it destined for y’all to be real friends! Once he gets sent home with the plastic tupper (we don’t give guests the glass in case we don’t get shit back) we all know he’ll be back again
Then starts the tradition of Mitch eating at your place for like once a week that later gets bumped up to like 3 times a week. At some point your forgetting ingredients and maybe text Mitch about it, funny thing is he’s at the liquor store getting alcohol you might like since beer isn’t always going to cut it. He texted back what you need, and when he arrives he hands you what you need. This man stopped next door to the Shop Rite to get you the stuff…. Eventually I feel like he just buys your groceries since he eat EATS with all the work he puts in
Friendship established
Y’all been shooting the shit for a while until there’s an emotional shift…. Lets say he’s having an episode of anger and just shuts down. On top the roof brooding and shit, it’s Katrina in another nightmare, him walk my himself with a panic attack, Stan up his ass, he just cannot right now. You take an elevator up there to see what’s up. You ask him what’s up, what’s wrong but he just ignores you. And by this point you know he can be a tight lipped lil shit…. But it doesn’t stop you from being there. So you do what you know best about which is just being there
So y’all sit in silence. And maybe you start to ramble to fill the silence, talking about the way your parents did a thing about colors when you were super and didn’t feel like talking. They said numbers “1 was green meaning yes, 2 was red so no to whatever they asked, 3 was yellow so a I’m not sure”.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Silence
“Are you ok to be by yourself?”
Him staring straight ahead
“Do you want me to go?”
A painful hard silence
You respect his wishes and get ready to leave him until you heard a soft “2”, and the. Sit your ass down.
“Ok, so you want silence?”
“…..3”
“Ok, I’ll just sit here and watch the time…. We can get ice cream after….” You were doing your best dammit
Mitch felt a fond feeling some up over him, but didn’t say anything. You guys were up there until it got too damn late and cold. You tell him it’s time to go, and that when he looks at you like LOOKS and it’s just different…. You know he doesn’t want to go, and you understand but you can’t let self sabotage happen
“I get it, life is lifing and shit sucks but even when you’re not ready for the day, it can’t always be night”
This man knows you quoted Kanye
He gives you another long look, and you get up and offer your hand to help him up. He stared up at it… then grabs it to get up and y’all get inside. You two end up eating ice cream sandwiches
Now the seed is planted for feelings to grow… MWAHAHAHAHAAAAA
After that y’all hangout regularly when he’s home, you give him normalcy in his life which he appreciates
He will die on a hill before he admits or even acknowledges the feelings he has for you, lets be real he probably feels like he’s cheating on Katrina and that he’s not here to make friends since he’s a whole ass assassin and whatever. That’s fine, but when he’s wondering what you’re up to, or what’s for dinner, or reminiscing on a joke you made he feels warm and fuzzy and sometimes not as on edge as he usually is on missions
Stan noticed
I don’t think things will turn until he gets home one day at an odd hour of the night like 3am type shit and is bruised over his face. He just wants to lay in bed after taking a nice shower, but nah there’s you in the hall coming back from the club and having fun. You might be tipsy and say hi to Mitch but all that leaves your system once you see his face. *giggles like a school girl kicking her feet*
You’re on him without thinking asking what happened, he’s trying to keep it together and not blow up on you since you’re friends but he really wants to go inside. But you let him and follow him in asking for a first aid kit that he has. And you end up cleaning off his face after he showers, during that time you go to your place and get a first aid kit that is more advanced than his (that spray on band aid shit). Now it's you disinfecting wounds and putting neosporin on them and sealing it. During this time you’re complaining about wtf this man did while he was away, completely ignoring the fact that he’s in a towel. You’re giving him an earful and Mitch is rolling his eyes but not moving much bc when was the last time someone touched him so gently?
He’s probably taking in your clubbing attire while you do this, not in a weird way but like looking at the glitter, the new hair style, etc and putting it to memory
“What the fuck were you doing? Jesus you look like shit”
Cue eye roll and for that you poke a nasty bruise that has his muscles flexing, he grabs your wrist for that
You give him a glare and don’t back down…. He answers with “The government” after that you don’t ask questions. The FBI agent assigned to your phone is probably already on your ass so you don’t need more enemies
You fix him up, tell him to chill out, and then go to leave, but not right before him saying “thank you”
We love a polite man who is in denial about having feelings, and you not acting in them bc Mitch is like a blank slate to read when he really wants to be
So like the way y’all talk about feelings and decide to get together and shit is not my forte, and breaking down his walls to talk about Katrina and the nature of his work to a degree that doesn’t scare you off. And his work on being emotionally available to you since he now cares for you more than he can admit
But we KNOW this man is a complete softie
Once he loves he LOVES, no question about it. And once you gain that, you have him for life
Fuck even if he’s been away for an assignment for months at a time, he’d probably head back to your apartment rather than his…. He knows where home is
He might not be the type to declare his love for you verbally all the time, but he shows it through actions like remembering the brand of stuff you like. Bringing you dessert or picking up food for you when work has been bullshit. Maybe not a gourmet meal for breakfast in bed (he can cook but like take your expectations, he can throw down for breakfast tho and make good ass sandwiches), but he will give you the rest of the milk for the cereal. Do the dishes, trash duty, put furniture together, wait for you outside till you get off work and drive you home. And even tidy around if he sees you don’t have the time
And when things get more serious put you as an authorized user on his card without telling you. You’ll just find that shit in your Apple Wallet
He’d keep the loving touches at home but he’s a cuddle bug, loyal to a fault, and loves to spend time at home with you. Home dates are a must, but he does love a good date night to see you dressed up
He would grow to love the domestic nature of your relationship and that’s what this man needs besides a copious amount of therapy
You’d also find out that he’s a nerd, but like undercover. I feel like he’d be a Nightwing or Red Hood fan from DC, and other comics from his childhood shows as well
He’s protective, smart, probably would talk to you about getting an air tag or some government tracking thing in case of emergencies. Then maybe take you on a gun date to teach you some self defense which probably goes wrong because you’re a CIVILIAN and that punch came too fast at you and you screamed and ducked while covering your eyes. He feels bad now, but now knows to take it to baby steps
Your assassin boyfriend has your best interest at heart, promise
A/N: I do be writing for black readers iykyk, but here is just very general.... Let me get to the tomfoolery next time babes (like Mitch helping you take down the braids)
#black reader#mitch rapp#american assassin#mitch rapp x reader#mitch rapp headcanons#mitch rapp imagine#mitch rapp imagines#dylan o'brien#mitch#mitch rapp request#mitch rapp blurb#mitch rapp smut#mitch rapp concept#mitch rapp one shot#mitch rapp x you#american assasin#dylan o'brien mitch rapp#smut#mitch rapp angst#dylan o’brien#dylan o'brien one shot#dylan o'brien x reader#dylan o'brien x you
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valonia47: IMO Dottie taught Ted avoidance and denial as the only allowed coping skills, which is how he ends up in England in the first place: avoiding the conflict and denying how bad his marriage has gotten. In that sense returning to Kansas is Ted breaking out of that and reconnecting with Henry on a regular basis instead of avoiding the inherent reminders of his relationship with his dad
two problems with this take, if you'll forgive my need to make a rebuttal.
ONE: Ted winding up in England because of conflict avoidance and denial is not how I read the situation at all. Hell, I don't think a man can move to another country without knowing things are bad, and every time he brings up Michelle, it's regarding the trouble in their marriage.
also, uh
given the entire fuckery with Dr. Jacob, I don't know if I actually agree at all with that take. Ted winds up in England because a pretty serious betrayal of trust.
this is one of the most interesting things the show does imo. like when Ted first talks about therapy and is dismissive/negative on it, I literally went "ah another otherwise progressive midwestern man who nonetheless doesn't like therapy" because bruh that's a thing for sure
and then ted tells sharon about his history of therapy and I was like "okay that's a little unusual but cmon ted you're better than this"
and then the fucking slap in the face happens and oh my fuck, Ted was right, he was manipulated by a fucking therapist holy shit, like all of his hesitations are entirely justified.
TWO: For Kansas to feel like a success for Ted, a LOT of shit would have needed to be done differently.
a. he needed to make the choice of his own volition, not because his mother pulled That Shit on him as punishment.
b. the show needed to actually show Kansas as living place that has support systems and people Ted loves. WHICH TO BE CLEAR: THE SHOW COULD HAVE DONE. fuck, if you want to read a fic that actually makes Ted moving back to Kansas make sense, I highly recommend Lafayette Goes To America, which I vouch for as a Missouri native is a loving and wonderful depiction of KCMO and why you'd want to live there.
c. why the fuck did they do that creepy fucking musical sting on the final shot of ted in kansas? i watched it with a friend who'd never seen the finale and they fucking gasped at it.
d. and this is a huge one for me is the trick each season with the opening/closing shots.
each season opens and closes on one character in a very deliberate move, like a reminder that you should be focusing on this person and the journey they've been on.
and it's not a necessarily positive journey.
with Rebecca, we watched her through season one transform from a hurt, vengeful, cruel person who was thrilled to ruin the lives of everyone around her if it helped her meet her goals into someone who finally recognized the gravity of their callousness.... but not before her actions led to the team being relegated.
with Nate, we watched him blossom as a tactician and strategist, and he winds up the head coach of West fucking Ham by the end..... but in the process, he loses everyone who supported him and he repeatedly fails to recreate those relationships in S3
with Ted, the show holds me down and kicks me repeatedly in the stomach until i admit i love a good tragedy I MEAN ted is successful, loved, respected, and supported by the people around him, he continues to work on himself in this place that he comes to adapt to and love... and instead of him asking "hey maybe i should review my custody arrangement and ask my son if he'd like to live here with me" he loses ALL OF THAT
there's this moment that makes the pain worse, this little (intentional? unintentional?) jab rebecca gives him. she begged this man to stay, offered to make him the best paid coach in the league, to personally assist in helping his family join him here, and he leaves.
it's a rejection. it's a rejection of richmond as meaningful, as people who love him, as his community and family. it hurts so fucking much.
none of them were worth trying for, ted? not rebecca, who held you tight when you had a panic attack? not trent, who detonated his career after shielding you from a press shitstorm? not roy, who came back to you and fucking quoted Jerry Maguire to your face, choosing to speak your language? fucking hell.
I blame Dottie for this, for how she looks at all the process Ted's made, resents it, and tears him back down. but the refutation of these people and their worth is part of the tragedy.
ANYWAY UH. I RESPECTFULLY DISAGREE. SORRY.
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Just Go Fuck Him
Pairing: photographer!Lee Hyunjae x afab!reader
Summary: Hyunjae moves back into his childhood home and old feelings and memories come up.
Warnings: MDNI, reader has scars, brief mention of childhood trauma, brief mention of surgeries, flashbacks, a smidge negative self-talk, hyunjae is the rizzler, smut... creampie, pet names, yada yada
Rating / Genre: M, neighbor au, childhood crush au, fluff?, slight angst (it’s really not THAT bad), lots of pining
WC: 8K (2K+ words for the smut scenes)
Artist Note: @everynewiee Enjoy! Special thank you to @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this and giving me the best fucking commentary. You're a gem and I probably would not have posted this if you hadn't stroked my ego. Love youuuuuu. If there's a typo I'll get to it eventually
m.list tag list
The living room was quiet in its typical offputting fashion as you sat around with your parents; no one saying anything as there were no conversations to be had and nothing playing on the television since no one would pay attention anyway, a phone captivating its user as everyone sat in their respective places. Any interaction at this point would feel almost disrespectful and annoying, disrupting the usual routine of your and your parent’s day.
Your favorite place to cocoon was on the right side of the sofa, wrapped in a plush blanket while you doom-scrolled until you eventually needed to walk the dogs. This is how your days were spent since your college graduation, making your parents the only ones on the block who weren’t empty nesters. Maybe that explained why you never went out— there was no one to go out with. Everyone else seemed to blossom rapidly, moving away and starting lives too hectic to return to their childhood homes on a regular basis while you sat at home, wrapped in blankets, feeling left behind.
Feeling left behind wasn’t inherently a negative thing, though— and it wasn’t really a feeling either. Acknowledgment: that’s what you’d describe this part of your life as— the acknowledgment of being a late bloomer, the acceptance of being the last flower waiting to bloom. The last person to leave the nest, as some would say, and that fact was totally okay with you because, in truth, it was okay for you to spend your days the way you pleased. There was no reason to run out and chase after what everyone else was doing just to keep up, to avoid loneliness at the risk of getting hurt.
Maybe it wasn’t just an acknowledgment; perhaps being a flower that’s yet to bloom guaranteed safety from a world so wide with new people who didn’t know you and old people who’d changed so much that you didn’t know them at all. You certainly weren’t close with anyone that you’d grown up with, and when you’d run into them at the odd holiday party that you were forced to attend, that fact was always highlighted awkwardly and sometimes painfully. There’s something to be said about standing silently in a circle full of adults that you used to run around outside with as a child, as wild stories are passed around, and accomplishments are one upped by additional accomplishments. You’ve watched enough cliques coalesce in real time, cliques that you were a part of as a child but somehow couldn’t squeeze into as an adult… and to say the least, it gets old. Thus, you cocooned, you doom-scrolled, and you became content with the silent life you’d curated with your parents.
So the living room is as quiet as it always was, and the day would drone on as it always did, and you’d be just fine not rocking the boat until it was time to go to bed and do it all over again tomorrow.
But sometimes the boat needs to be rocked, and the loud knock that’s heard does the trick in making your mom flinch in her seat, and your father crane his neck to the rather unexpected sound.
You, on the other hand, do not react because a knock at the door— regardless of how foreign, is never for you. The shifting of your parents getting out of their seats and the creaking of the floorboards underneath their feet does nothing to pull you away from your phone because, again, no one is knocking on the door for you, and you’d never entirely inherited your nan's natural curiosity.
It’s not until your mom comes back into the living room with her head peeking out from behind the foyer wall as she calls out your name that you finally get up from your favorite spot on the couch. The action is done begrudgingly, but your mom swears someone is here to visit you, and her smile is vast, so at the very least, you would appease your mom and be polite.
-
The thing about people-pleasing was that you never knew where you’d end up. You could set out to be polite to some unexpected guest to appease your mother and end up staring face-to-face with your childhood fucking crush. This wasn’t hypothetical; this was actually happening, and you were currently wearing drab black sweatpants.
He says hi first, hugging you at the front door as your parents invite him in for tea, and you stand there looking like a fucking idiot troll whose soul has just left their body. Specifically, you were internally screaming as you said hello and tried not to look like you were combing through your hair with your fingers.
“It’s been so long, Hyunjae. How’s your mom?” Your mom asks as she heads into the kitchen to start the kettle, and you look down at your hands as he responds to her.
He’s still just as polite as he used to be when you were kids, and that pisses you off.
“It’s so lovely of you to visit,” you hear your dad chime in, and you want to scowl because you felt quite the opposite. Who visits someone they haven’t spoken to in well over half a decade out of the blue without even a single warning? How were you the only person put off by this rogue visitation?
“I thought you were a travel photographer. What are you doing back here?” You ask, and really, you wish you could tell him to leave because this was too much, and you could feel the memories starting to stew inside your brain. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you looked up at his ever-charming smile, and all you wanted to do was flee to your room.
“I moved back. I missed home.”
-
Hyunjae’s return meant your parents weren’t the only non-empty nesters anymore, which should make you feel better about yourself, but it doesn’t. It makes you feel like a child again and not in a way that should feel safe or warm and fuzzy. It makes you remember your childhood with him as your next-door neighbor. It makes you remember your childhood in general, and it makes you remember all the shenanigans that the two of you got up to together. All the silly poems and doodles you’d write about him in your journal growing up start to whisper around in your mind. All the conversations you’d have in your backyards pull to the forefront of your brain. Core memories flash like you’re watching a synopsis of your life thus far when you close your eyes after turning in for the night.
You slowly began to remember just how easy it was for you to grow attached to the boy that lived next door…
Hyunjae was a few years older than you, but he was always sweet, unlike the boys his age who lived in the neighborhood. Even in your younger years, it was his kindness that really set him apart in your mind. He was one of the few older kids who played nicely with the younger kids instead of ditching or excluding them or stealing their toys.
When you fell and scraped your knee trying to ride a bike for the very first time without any training wheels, he was quick to run inside his house to get a bandaid and a small bag of ice. He had kissed your bandaid-covered knee in hopes that it would get you to stop crying, and at the time, you thought the gesture was ludicrous; he wasn’t a mom, so there was no way that he could have the ability to wipe away someone’s pain with the simple press of his lips.
That was the day that you learned it wasn’t just mothers who held such a magical power
-
So you were putting effort into your looks to walk the dogs now... Nothing crazy— just making sure your hair wasn’t frizzy and that your clothes weren’t wrinkled before you left the house. You hadn’t run into Hyunjae yet, but it was bound to happen, and you wouldn’t be caught off guard when it did.
The dogs were slower than usual to round the block this afternoon, but you didn’t mind, enjoying the album you were listening to as you admired the cotton candy-like clouds dashed across the beautiful pale blue sky. For someone who spent such a massive chunk of their time indoors, you really did appreciate being outside.
Apparently Hyunjae felt the same way. You saw him outside for the first time since he came back, sitting on his front porch with a camera in his hands as he presumably took shots of the sky above. This was perfect actually. You could skitter by unnoticed. With your headphones over your ears and a fancy digital camera concealing most of his face, there should be this shared agreement that deterred one from interrupting the other for the sake of exchanging pleasantries.
As you move closer, your house getting more prominent in your field of view, you’re reminded that dogs don’t give a fuck about made-up social contracts. Yours pull on their leashes to get to Hyunjae, one barking, and that’s enough to steal the man’s attention away from snapping the shutter.
Damn. Your streak of avoidance shattered.
He smiles when he sees it’s you and waves with the most earnest expression on his face, and for a brief moment, you forget how to walk like an able-bodied person, legs feeling like mush and mind going blank as his inviting eyes settle on you and your dogs.
“One foot in front of the other. Smile like a sane person. Don’t let him sense his sheer power over you.”
You repeat the mantra in your mind as you let your dogs pull you closer to him, nearing his front porch with bated breath and a weak smile. It's those wooden steps at the entrance of his house that get you, the ones that harbored far too many sweet core memories. As you sit beside him on the landing, you can’t help but think of every single time that you’ve sat here in the past.
“Hey,” He says, wrapping his arm around you briefly in a friendly, one-armed hug before he sets his fancy digital camera far away from the dogs’ reach.
Your hello is soft and shy, but you didn’t stutter at the physical touch, so you’d consider that a small win.
“So you came home just to take pictures of the sky?”
He snorts at your question, “I already told you why…
“I got tired of the world at large. Plus, there’s more than enough beauty around here. The familiar things deserve to be photographed, too.” He admits simply– as if the sentiment is genuine common knowledge. He’s smiling down at you, and for a second, maybe it was a delusion, but you honestly felt like he was talking about you specifically.
“Watch. I’ll show you what I mean.”
He reaches out for his camera and begins to snap pictures of your dogs, petting them and scratching behind their ears. One of your dogs must secretly be a Hyunjae simp because he can capture her dopey smile perfectly.
You silently watch as he goes through the pictures, his smile widening, and he leans close to show you the one that must have tugged at his heartstrings. It’s a picture of your dog, face cradled in Hyunjae’s large hand, her eyes practically shining with glee, and she has the cutest doggy smile to match.
You giggle, face breaking into perhaps its first genuine smile in such a long time. “This is perfect. I have to show Mom. I’d love a copy if you don’t mind?”
When you look up from the camera, you notice just how close you are, invading his personal space unwittingly, and a blush rises in your cheeks as you quickly lean away to create some tangible distance.
He only hums in agreement before shutting his camera off again and making eye contact with you. “I’ll send you a copy later tonight. Has your number changed?”
-
When you finally get home, your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard, and the spring in your step is undeniable. You let the dogs off their leashes and put away your headphones before practically skipping to your bedroom.
You flop on your bed, feeling weightless and energized from the crumb of interaction... This could become a problem, an addiction— could a person become addicted to another person? Regardless of the answer, you squealed in bed, covering your face in your hands as you let every single positive emotion flood through your body. Your legs kick in the air, and you feel giddy, high on the love and infatuation of a crush a decade in the making.
Oh, you were so fucking doomed. Hyunjae needed to either move away or express his intent to marry you as soon as possible because every feeling you’d shoved down had come back in full force, plus interest.
A knock on your bedroom door makes you freeze mid-tizzy, and as the door creaks open, it's your mom’s head that peeks into your room, and the smile that graces her lips looks nearly childlike. She wanted to gossip, you could tell.
“I saw you sitting over at the Lee’s. It’s been so long since I've seen you two sit outside on his porch steps like that.” She says, and immediately, your face goes blank. Any traces of giddiness is sucked right out of you in exchange for bashfulness.
Vibe ruined. You felt so exposed.
“What? I’m happy. You two used to be so close growing up, and he was such a sweet kid. It’s just nice to see…” she trails off before finally taking the hint and leaving you alone to writhe in your newfound angst and embarrassment.
Your mom was right, though. You spent ample time on the Lee’s front porch growing up.
When everyone had gotten old enough to where the playing field was level, and the neighborhood kids could all get off the school bus together, it was common to hang out in a large group after school. Sometimes, this entailed sitting around and talking. Still, most of the time, this led to adventuring around the block and getting into what could only be labeled as dumb, child-appropriate shenanigans.
It didn’t take long for you to bow out of these afternoon activities in exchange for seclusion, sat at your front door doing your homework, reading a book, or maybe drawing. You didn’t want to partake in what everyone else was doing.
Hyunjae had been the one to start the unspoken tradition by randomly sitting on his porch one day instead of running out to play with everyone else. You noticed him outside, but your head is inside a book about horses, and frankly, what someone else did on their porch was none of your adolescent business.
But that day, he called you over, asking if you wanted to sit with him, and when you explained that you were reading a book, he was quick to respond, saying the same thing.
“We don’t have to talk. Just sit next to me.” That was his persuasive pitch, and it worked.
That day, you sat side by side on his front porch steps, one reading a picture book about horses and the other reading a Spiderman comic book. When he noticed you struggling to sound out an unfamiliar word, he broke the comfortable silence to help you.
That's how it started, the many sessions of keeping each other company on his wooden steps. That’s probably the true catalyst of your friendship, him calling you over and you obliging his request, sitting side by side on wooden steps instead of running around with the other neighborhood kids.
Gradually, this evolved from a mini reading club to you bringing art supplies over to paint together, him helping you with your math homework when it got tough, or even him simply reading a chapter of his library books to you with your head laid against his shoulder, eyes closed as you pictured the fictitious world that Hyunjae was describing to you.
The Lee’s front porch steps slowly became a second home to you, and as you both grew up, experiencing life in new and complicated ways, sometimes the only thing that helped you get by was sitting on those steps with Hyunjae by your side.
-
The coming days felt slow; your typical routine of couch cocooning left you unsatisfied, and you found yourself counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds until you could walk your dogs outside. Which was silly because you were a grown adult; you didn't need to find an excuse to go out… but you did want an excuse to run into Hyunjae again.
Which again— you were a grown adult, and you could take life by the balls and knock on his front door, say hi, and invite yourself in. You weren't going to do that, but at the very least, you acknowledged that plan as a viable option: baby steps and all that.
In your defense, though, you didn't want to make a fool of yourself, and you were scared. So much has changed over the years since you’d last appropriately spoken. You had so many unanswered questions, and you felt like the elephant in the room, the elephant that you’d birthed, still hadn't been addressed… You didn’t think that you’d earned the right to rogue, unannounced visitations in the same way that Hyunjae did.
As of right now, you are settling on the waiting game. Hyunjae sent you the picture of your dog, just as he’d promised, but you haven't seen him outside since. At this point, the ball was in the universe’s court, and you hoped to be favored kindly.
Today, you decided to bring your pinning to a different location, settling on cleaning your bedroom instead of wistfully thinking about Hyunjae as you stared out your living room windows. You would give your room a real deal deep clean; organize and clean out your closet, vacuum, feather dust, wipe down your bedroom windows, and toss out anything that hadn’t been used in three years— the works.
You were moving through these tasks with music on blast, shimmying and singing along while you harbored a spray bottle in one hand and a cloth in the other. No area was safe for dirt or dust in your room. You were intent on cleaning until your room was interior design magazine-level spotless, and the next inanimate victim was your window. You pushed back the curtains and drew the blinds to reveal the dusty glass pane.
Wow, this should get done more often.
You attacked the window pane with cleaning spray and started wiping, swaying to the beat of the bass-heavy song that played through your speakers, and soon you're doing more dancing than wiping. You get lost in the song, singing into the window as if you were in a music video as you run the cleaning cloth over the glass like it was a prop.
Then you notice Hyunjae standing in his bedroom window, and you halt. How long had he stood there? How much of your theatrics had he witnessed? You remove your hand from the glass, and your face twists up in humiliation.
He crosses his arms, eyebrows arching upwards, but the rest of his expression seems impassive before he finally bursts into a fit of laughter, causing you to do the same. Your embarrassment dissipates as he claps his hands to applaud you for such a lovely showcase, and you playfully bow.
This moment wasn’t the first time that one of you has gotten caught being weird in the recesses of your bedrooms by the other, but it’s been so long that you can’t help but giggle. Some things really don’t change, and you’re glad that, at this point, getting caught by Hyujnae feels the same way as it did when you were younger. No judgment, just a short shock of embarrassment followed by playfulness and laughter shared between good friends.
-
Hyunjae’s been back home for over a month now, and you were still… dragging your feet when it came to acknowledging the obvious. You were being stubborn, and you were starting to annoy your mother. She, so badly, wanted to play matchmaker. Yet, you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction, insisting for the nth time that you did not like Hyunjae and that he did not like you. She’d roll her eyes and drop the matter, but she always muttered something under her breath. Then you’d act like you didn't hear, just like she’d act like you hadn’t spewed such a bald-faced lie.
You did like him, though. You more than liked him, and that’s what startled you most. To want someone in so many ways... The concept was so new to you, and Hyunjae made pining over him refreshing.
There were parts of it that were innocent and parts that felt like carnal desire. You wanted to talk to Hyunjae every day like you used to— to spend time with him every day, just like when you were kids. There was this familiarity in his presence that was soothing, and yet most days, he left you feeling drunk off the feelings and needs that you’d developed for him.
He was sweet, and he made you laugh, but at his baseline? Hyunjae was a flirt that left you flustered all the time.
It’s the looks he gives you, the curve at the corner of his lips when he’d notice you short-circuit from one of his sly compliments, or the intense eye contact he’d give you while you spoke. It was the way he’d playfully nudge you as you sat beside him on his porch steps, and it was most definitely the cheeky smile he'd flash at you when he was jogging around the block with his shirt off. With all of that, you were starting to look at him differently, and you found yourself appreciating him in ways that you’d never paid attention to before.
When had he gotten so irresistibly attractive? Has he always been this undeniably sexy?
He’d gotten stronger, bulkier. It only took a few shameless glances in his direction while he was outside, gearing up for a run, to notice just how toned he was. His back muscles were lean. His arms looked so firm… like he could protect you with them or wrap them around you as he drilled nothing but raw pleasure into your body. The thought alone made you shiver, and it was becoming damn near impossible to look at him in a friendly way. Exceptionally not with his lips so perfectly crafted. He had lips that could easily hypnotize you— and they did often. You’d try your hardest to focus on his words just to fantasize about how sweet and kissable his lips were.
Right now, you were stuck between reality and a daydream as you stood outside listening to Hyunjae speak. You’d crossed paths as he was coming in from a late evening jog, and you were heading out to walk the dogs. You watched the way his tongue ran along his bottom lip slowly, and then your eyes began to trail down past his bare chest. Before you could fall deeper into your thoughts, heat spread across your chin, and your face got tilted upward for you to meet Hyunjae’s gaze.
“Like what you see?” He guesses, calling you out playfully, and your reaction time is slow to it all.
You barely register getting caught as you focus on the sudden physical contact, the way his hand cups your chin firmly, and the warmth that his fingers provide to your skin. His touch lingers as you stare up at him with a facial expression displaying nothing but need. How could such a simple gesture cause you to buckle so intensely? If you tried to speak right away, you might let out a moan.
You have to take a step back to regain your composure, and your hand tightens around the leash that you're holding.
Fuck.
For a moment, you’d even forgotten all about your dogs. They needed a walk, and here you were eye fucking Hyunjae outside his childhood home. Your words are mumbled and short as you try to slink away, stepping to the side to get around him on the sidewalk.
“My bad.”
That’s all you could say. It was the lamest thing to come out of your mouth in a while, but your dogs could be your escape from such an awkward situation.
His hand grabs your wrist, though, stopping you from completing one of your little vanishing acts. You can barely hear him over your rapidly beating heart. All you can make out is that he’ll text you when to come over, and there's something else about going for a drive.
-
Hyunjae kept taking casual side glances your way while you sat together in his car. No one was talking, and you could tell he was gearing up to say something ridiculous. The smirk that graced his mouth was your leading indicator, and the suspense killed you. The lull in your conversation only heightened your anticipation as you tried to relax into the passenger seat, sitting silently and with thick tension.
“You never answered my question, you know.” His words come out so nonchalant that you nearly misunderstand him.
But you could play coy, too, so you take a long sip from your drink to keep him waiting.
“Hm?”
The eye roll he gives you is comical and dramatic, and he feigns offense as his hand covers his heart.
“You forgot that fast? Wow, dude. Check me out, and then forget all about it. I feel used.” Even as the words pass his lips, he’s smiling, his eyes creasing, and the rise of his cheekbones are very telling. Hyunjae just loved to see you squirm in the hot seat.
“I don’t know what— did you just call me dude?” His phrasing finally registers, and you scoff. Was this a date, or did you just get painfully friendzoned?
His eyebrows quirk upward, and the smirk along his lips turns devilish momentarily as he hums, eyes intently on your own.
“I’m sorry. Would you prefer something more forward? I could call you baby… there's also babe, angel, sunshine. Buttercup if we’re feeling frisky. Darling is a favorite of mine, but anything’s on the table, really.”
Your nose scrunches up at his blatant teasing. The man was straight up toying with your emotions. “Just f-forget about it.”
“Whatever you say, Sweetheart.”
His words bounce around the car before striking straight through you. The cup in your hand clatters clumsily into its holder as you drop it.
So much for keeping it cool.
“Ooooh, so that’s the one. I’ll remember that.” He says through a chuckle and a smug grin as he reclines further in his seat.
“You know you didn’t have to bring me all the way out here to tease me. You were doing a pretty good job from the comfort of your own home.”
You tried to sound dry and aloof, but you started to buzz with anticipation. The feelings that you’d kept hidden, albeit poorly, would be pushed and prodded to the surface, thanks to Hyunjae and his charming smile.
“That’s not why I brought you out here. I actually wanted to talk. I’ve missed you.” He admits, reaching out to touch your shoulder tenderly.
“Hyunjae. We’re neighbors. You see me every day.” You assert, facial expression going deadpan as you stare back at his unwavering flirtatious gaze.
He sighs at that, mind seeming to go to a faraway place before he speaks up again.
“It’s more than that. I miss how close we used to be. We haven’t hung out alone like this since the summer before my senior year of high school. It feels like decades have passed and…
“It felt like it happened out of nowhere. It was like one day, we were close. I’d say we were best friends, and then the next day, you woke up and decided that wasn’t the case anymore. Why? What did I do?”
There was a gleam of hurt in his eyes that caused your bottom lip to jut out as guilt struck you. Hyunjae was right. You were close. He was your favorite person, and you were his. He was ever-present throughout much of your life, and then you ghosted him. You could pinpoint the exact moment when things changed, and you’d decided to stop being his friend.
You were a teenager riddled with insecurities, and instead of talking to him about it— or talking to anyone for that matter, you’d made the conscious decision to become reclusive. You thought that you needed to detach from someone that you, for the longest time, considered was your one and only gift from the universe growing up.
You purse your lips together before opening your mouth to speak, but doubt settles and seeps into your bones. “I don’t know how to explain this without sounding dumb.”
Hyunjae shrugs, “Just say it. Dumb or not. We’ll piece everything together as a team.”
His eyes were soft, and his hand went to rest on your knee, giving you all the comfort and safety that you needed to explain yourself.
“Um… obviously, I have a crush on you, right? Like, let’s move past that fact fast.” You pause to read Hyunjae’s reaction, but he only gives you a small smile while his hand reaches for yours, lacing his fingers through your own.
“A-and… I guess I knew that even back then. I mean, yeah. I had a huge fucking crush on you back then. Oh god, it was bad. It's just as bad as it is now, honestly. But when we were in high school, I started developing all these insecurities. I started noticing that other girls looked different from me. They didn’t grow up getting used to the hospital like I did. They didn’t have these long surgical scars on their legs like mine. You remember that part of my life, right? Your mom let you visit me after my first surgery when I was super young.”
Somewhere along the way, you shifted in your seat to stare out the window as you spoke, unable to hold eye contact and show vulnerability simultaneously.
“I didn’t realize it then because I was so young… I just wanted to feel better, but my body was branded with all this trauma. The scars on my thighs documented it all. It was hard going to gym class. The locker room was awful; I’d feel so insecure, and then I’d have to think about you constantly. All the girls knew you, and they’d talk about how hot you were. All. The. Time. And because I was your best friend, they’d ask me about you all the time. I was ‘popular’ but only because they wanted something from me. I couldn’t deal with it. All these beautiful girls with perfect, flawless skin constantly asked me about the guy that I’d liked for so long.
“I could not deal with another school year being seen only as the gateway to Hyunjae. I spent that summer in my room crying and wishing that things were different. That I was different, that I'd wake up and these scars would be gone. That I could finally get the guy that I’d wanted for so long… Obviously, that never happened. So I thought that if I put you and our friendship behind me, maybe I could, at the very least, move on because why would a guy like you want someone so far from perfect.”
You did it. Hyunjae is finally caught up and no longer left in the dark. All that was left to do now was listen to his response. You feel firm hands grab at your waist, and you're awkwardly pulled out of your seat until you're straddling Hyunjae’s lap.
“Thank you for sharing all of this with me, but… is that what you really think? That I wouldn’t want you because of something like that?” He’s looking up at you with tears threatening to spill from his eyes, and all you can do is nod meekly.
“I hate that, you know. I hate knowing that you spent an entire summer crying, and I was right next door, and I didn’t know.” His hands fall to your thighs, squishing them in his hold gently as he processes all of this information.
“I can’t even joke about how down bad we’ve been for each other because right now I’m shocked.” He goes on, sighing heavily before chewing on his bottom lip.
“My mom raised me right. I can reassure you that I would never care about something like that. I know, all too well, how to appreciate and treat a good woman. You’ve always been beautiful to me, and you’ll continue to be. Always. No matter what. Those parts of you are gorgeous, too, because they’re a part of the bigger, breathtaking picture.
“I don’t want to miss out on any more time, okay?”
Before you can grace him with a response, his lips are on yours, and his hand is pressed against your back as he pushes your body closer to his.
It was the kind of kiss that made you realize just how lonely you’d been. Urgency and desire ran straight through your veins to pool at your center, and you felt like you were melting into the man below you. You could stay like this forever, straddling Hyunjae’s hips while your tongue collided beautifully with his. He kissed you like a thirsty man dying for a drink. Faint gasps leave your chest whenever he pulls away to breathe to dive back in and fuse his mouth with yours again.
So this is how Hyunjae’s lips feel. This is how it feels to be kissed by him.
You both become lost in the kiss, and his hands begin to roam. Warmth spreads across your lower back as one of Hyunjae’s hands snakes its way underneath your shirt to caress your skin, and a shiver flows up your spine. Your fingers tangle into his hair, anchoring yourself to this moment as your hips roll. That’s when you feel it.
“Oh.” You breathe out.
The tent in his pants nudges against you perfectly as you're coaxed into a steady grind by the firm hand pressed along your back.
“Feel good?” He asks, pulling away to look up at you with glossy lips and messy hair. Your nod is an eager one as you try to lean down, eyes closing as you search for his lips again while Hyunjae leans into you, pressing kisses to your neck instead.
You feel his free hand creep up to your thighs as you continue to chase after the friction his crotch provides. Your skirt slowly becomes bunched up, cool air hitting your thighs, and you freeze, shyness and insecurity washing over you.
“J-jae…” You stutter out in a whisper, grabbing his face in your hand to stop him from looking down.
There’s a look of understanding on his face, but you also see a glint of something else in his eyes. “Wanna come back to my place, Sweetheart? I can think of some ways to help you get comfortable.”
-
As promised, Hyunjae made you feel safe and comfortable. He asked for permission before peeling a new article of clothing away from your body each time. He litters soothing touches and gentle kisses to any freshly exposed skin as he gets you undressed fully. When you’re completely bare, he’s keen to comfort you, making a point of looking you in the eyes before sneaking a glance down to your chest briefly.
“Just focus on me, okay?” He says, voice as soft as cotton while his hand comes up to stroke the side of your face sweetly.
He leans back to take off his shirt, and even though you’ve seen him shirtless more than a handful of times, you can’t help the whine that leaves you. Your eyes trail down his toned torso and settle expectantly on his hands that fiddle with his jeans. You were about to learn something new about Hyunjae, and you were paying very close attention.
He was big, and you sink your teeth into your lower lip to stop the moan that tries to punch out of you. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest as you stare blatantly at every part of him before your wide eyes finally lift to meet his gaze.
“It’ll fit.” He reassures smugly, and you roll your eyes at that.
“When did you get so cocky?” You sass through a tease as you're pushed backward onto his bedsheets.
“Don’t be jealous, Sweetheart. You’ll be full of cock soon.” He tosses back, causing you to shudder.
He hovers above you for a moment, caging your body in between his strong arms as he looks down at you with fondness in his gaze while he admires your beauty. He leans down to kiss you on the lips before moving down your body.
His lips press against every part of your body on his trek down your chest and past your stomach. When he gets to your thighs, he takes his time, closing his eyes as he kisses every spot, running his tongue along the blemishes that make you doubt yourself. He alternates his love and affection as he slots himself between your legs, nipping at one thigh before pressing a wet kiss to the other.
You feel weightless already. There's not an ounce of nervousness in your body as Hyunjae worships the parts of you that you thought you disliked the most. You felt cared for, cherished, and like you were the most enticing person in the world. The tingling sensations travel closer and closer to the apex between your thighs until you let out a gasp that quickly morphs into a whimper.
“Jae—
You're cut off by a moan as Hyunjae’s tongue swipes up your wetness in one languid motion, causing a jolt of pleasure to dash through your body. He hums into your pussy as he runs his tongue from side to side, parting your folds and tasting you hungrily before he slots your clit between his lips. You lurch forward, and he reaches one arm up to press you back into the bed, resting his hand on your stomach. He pushes your thighs farther apart with his free hand; his grip is tight around your thigh while he buries his face further into your pussy, tongue unrelenting as he sucks on your clit in tandem with the flicks of the wet muscle.
You didn’t know how to move through life after experiencing something life-altering like this. Hyunjae’s mouth made you feel unreal. His tongue could easily be labeled the 8th wonder of the world. All you could do was softly moan his name like you were reciting a prayer as he worked you over.
The bed dips as he shifts his positioning, stopping his ministrations for a minute, and when you look down, you notice just how drenched his chin is because of you, and you shyly close your legs.
“Y-you don’t have to contin—
He cuts you off by forcing your legs apart and looking up at you purposely while he settles between your thighs again.
“Why would you deny yourself something we both know you want?” He challenges, tongue sticking out to ghost over your glistening pussy, and the delicate warmth that the barely-there touch provides is enough to have you whining in need. You push his head back down, hoping he’ll just shut up and go back to town. He does, but not without having the last word.
“Knew you couldn’t resist me,” he teases, words slurred as he tries to talk between sloppy licks. His tongue remains flat as he laps at your pussy to make you fall apart.
When you seem close, with moans flowing out of you ceaselessly, he sinks into you, tongue massaging your spasming walls as he fucks you with his mouth, and that’s all you need. Your face grows hot, and you start to quiver; your thighs begin to falter, and Hyunjae has to hold them steady with his large hands as your orgasm swallows you whole.
“Oh FUCK.”
You will never be the same. Your body throbs with pleasure, and you shake through the most powerful feeling that you’ve ever encountered in your life. You’re speaking only in incoherent babbles as Hyunjae continues to tongue fuck you until the sensation is far too much for your pussy, and you have to push him away. You look up at him breathlessly, eyes unable to stay open for more than a few seconds at a time as you come down from such an intense finish.
“God bless you, Hyunjae.” You finally say, still twitching from your nerves getting lit on fire.
“I take it I did pretty good, hm?” He points out with the cockiest grin while he wipes his chin, coating the back of his hand in your essence. His eyes drift away from your face to check you out, and his face melts into a genuine smile.
“Your body is perfect to me, by the way. Every single part of it. Every minor detail.” He reassures, voice coated in sincerity as he trails his hand along your thigh, thumb running across a faded scar.
Goosebumps rise on your skin as you turn your face away from him, with a blush peppering your cheeks. “It’s your turn…” You add, letting your legs fall open for him.
“Our turn,” He corrects as he turns your face to look up at him.
“You ready, Sweetheart?” He asks while he hovers above you, and you can feel how warm and heavy he is against you, prompting you to nod your head yes.
Hyunjae sheathes himself inside you slowly, causing you to groan blissfully as your eyes fall closed. He feels so good. The stretch is just right, and as he buries himself deep inside you, it’s like you’re being split open, but in the best way. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you adjust to his girth and length. When you finally open your eyes, you're met with the sight of the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen trying his hardest to hold himself together.
“You okay, Darling?” You ask in a teasing whisper while you take in Hyunjae’s state. He looks tense, his teeth are abusing his bottom lip, and for shits and giggles, you clench around him and he hisses.
“You’re incredibly tight.” He says through gritted teeth before he exhales. He rears back, his eyes flutter closed for a moment, and you hear him curse under his breath.
“I-it’s like your pussy is choking my cock…” He mumbles before he leans down to kiss your neck and tries to press forward again. You hear him whimper softly, and it’s the most alluring sound you’ve ever heard, and it's all because of you.
“I feel good?”
“You feel so. Fucking. Good.” He praises through a pant.
His hips start to roll against yours as he finds a steady pace to fuck you with, and soon his bedroom is filled with a mixture of moans and skin slapping against skin. His body weight presses you further into the bedsheets, and you feel like you’re being surrounded by love and warmth as every fantasy that you’ve ever had comes true.
Hyunjae’s strong body lays flush on top of yours, and his fingers lace through yours while he rocks into you harder with precise movements. His other arm goes under your body to tilt your pelvis upward as he begins hitting you at a new angle that pulls a cry out of you. Your legs tighten around his waist, needing him closer and deeper as you’re fucked into oblivion. Each powerful thrust has you sliding up the sheets, and your pussy clamps down on him whenever his cock drags out of you. You felt stuffed, filled to the brim, and you missed him when he reared back, leaving you nearly empty for half a second at a time.
Praises were mumbled against your skin while he plunged into you. You had the best pussy. You were doing a good job; you’re taking him so well. You felt incredible. Hyunjae’s words sent you to the edge, and all you could do was gasp and moan as you came undone. Your walls flutter and spasm as you arch your back, screaming his name out for the neighborhood to hear.
“J-Jae,” you whimper, lip trembling as Hyunjae molds your body to his fat cock.
“I know, Sweetheart… Relax and enjoy it.” He coos softly, coaching you through your second orgasm.
His hips don’t slacken; they do the opposite, speeding up as he hammers the sweet spot deep inside you repeatedly until something inside you snaps. You writhe underneath him, and your fingers tighten around his own as you fall into bliss. Hyunjae’s eyes are glued to your face as your mouth drops open, and a long, drawn-out groan leaves your body.
“That’s right, baby. Keep going.” He says through a grunt as he starts to chase his high.
He shifts, lifting you into his arms while his cock stays buried inside you. You're positioned upright, body going limp against his muscular thighs as he continues to drill into you, massaging your walls at a merciless pace. One large bicep stays wrapped around your waist, and his free hand snakes between you both to rub against your clit as if he could get you to cum a third time. You’re just a brainless lump of whimpers at this point as your head rests against his sweaty chest.
“I’m close, Sweetheart. I know you can do it again, come on, baby.” He pleaded, voice ragged as his thrusts turned desperate.
His moans get more prominent, and when you look up to meet his gaze, Hyunjae looks fucked out beyond belief, lips parted, and hair a disaster on top of his head. You muster up enough energy to kiss him on the lips, swallowing all his pretty noises and whimpering against his plush lips. You feel his hips stutter. Then heat spreads inside you, and you shake as he fills you with cum while you experience another earth-shattering orgasm.
You're both tired and sticky. The bed sheets are hardly halfway on the bed, twisted onto one side, but neither of you seems to care. You collapse onto the bare mattress with Hyunjae’s cock still hidden inside you. When he finally pulls out, your dripping pussy adds to the mess on his bed. He lays down beside you, immediately pulling you in for a cuddle.
“You’re going to stay here, right?” He asks, looking down at you with a hopeful gleam.
“Of course. Even if I wanted to go home, I couldn’t deal with a walk of shame right now. My legs don’t work. I’ll leave tomorrow afternoon when I have to walk the dogs.” You answer through a giggle.
NOTE: There is a part two that can be found: here.
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Astarion has been breaking my poor heart.
This post will contain spoilers for the game and Astarion's romance/backstory. Before anyone comes at me, I want to say that you are the main character, you are supposed to change the fates and behaviours of your characters, especially if you are romancing them. It's a video game, that's kind of the point.
This post is extremely long and I apologise.
This analysis is based off my playthrough.
(*) means check notes at the bottom of the post.
I wasn't expecting to like him as much as I do. Don't get me wrong, I really liked him during EA and I thought he was funny, charming, flirty with a dark past and all that was just a means to cover his trauma but since the full game has come out and we've gotten to know more of him, it truly breaks my heart to see and know what he has been through. My sister and I were watching his reactions to be being rejected, being told that Tav only wants sex and forcing him to do things he doesn't want to do, it is truly heart-wrenching.
Many people expected Astarion to be this "I am so sexual and my romance will mostly be sex, also I will betray you the first chance I get." and it couldn't be further from the truth. Astarion is extremely loyal, and yes he has that air of flambouncy to him, will often make japes and say evil things but most of the time, it is just a facade. It's his shield in a way, he has been treated with utter cruelty for two hundred years of his life and now that he finally has some control over himself, he doesn't wish to be hurt again.
I don't think Astarion is ever completely evil, even in the beginning. He just wants to have fun and enjoy life after so many years of slavery. He likes it when you are snarky, say mean shit to people for fun but, he doesn't like to see innocents get hurt, and he doesn't support fighting for people who don't fight for themselves. Yes, he will support some of your evil decisions but they will lead to a bad ending, for you and your characters. It'll make Astarion wallow more in his greed and he'll lose the little humanity he has left. He doesn't really have a clear sense of direction in the beginning of the game as he's just found freedom and obviously wants to live life to the fullest, being evil comes naturally to him, it's instinct as its what he's been doing for two centuries.
This is my assumption since we don't know his actual age but since he's an elf who was well-respected in society, had a pretty prestigious job and was rich enough to be corrupt. I'd assume he was at least 70-100 years old before he was turned into a spawn. (EDIT - in a recent post by @deluxetrashqueen I saw the translation of the dates of birth and death on his tombstone:
"Astarion Ancunin
229-268 DR" to which he adds, "458DR - "
which shows that he was only 39 at the time of his death, which explains his emotional immaturity for an elf.) My point being, I believe he has been a spawn for longer than he's ever been a regular person. He has spent the longer part of his life doing evil things for an evil man, that was what his life was on a daily basis with Cazador. And his former work experience probably helped, he likely learnt pretty quick how much he took for granted as a living person and the harshness of his master, peers and people he seduced made him harsh and unforgiving in return.
Once you start getting close to him, you start to learn that he is only mean to people because of how life has treated him. In his romance, he says "no one ever looked out for me, no one ever said a kind word to me. You're the only one, no one is like that." Astarion starts to see, because of you that there is kindness in the world, and he finds kindness in you. Especially after his quest, as much as he'd hate to admit it, he also sees friends in your other companions as they do in him. By the end of Act 2, he starts to get more soft towards you and the decisions you make, often even disapproving of evil decisions. People often tend to forget that a lot of Astarion's evil personality is a front, it is not who he truly is.
These points will be better explained individually so I will talk about some themes.
Power: power plays a big part in his entire storyline. In the beginning, he wants to harness the powers of the tadpole to become powerful and at first, you think that it's simply because he's an evil character and he wants power for the sake of having it. Then later, he wishes to take over the power of the ascendant but mostly only to spite Cazador and take something important from him, not fully realising the true power of the rite.
As he slowly starts opening up to you, he tells you "the mind flayers tore me from that place" and you realise that its the tadpole that let's him walk in the sun, do things a vampire or spawn would never be able to, you learn that he hates being a vampire because he can't even remember what he looks like. He seeks power outside because he has had no power over himself for about two centuries, he thinks that having this power will fulfill his needs but it won't, we know it won't because in truth he only needs to reclaim his autonomy, physical and mental. Of course Astarion would never truly admit to this for a long while, even when he's romanced. I personally really love his good romance arc where he doesn't have sex with you, not because he dislikes you or doesn't want you but because, as he says "any kind of intimacy was something I performed to lure people back for him. While I know things between us are different... being with someone still feels tainted. It brings up all those feelings of disgust and loathing." He has spent 200 years or so bowing to Cazador's whims, done things to people he didn't want to do and I assume since it's heavily hinted at, were very sexual in nature. In a relationship, he simply wants to be seen as a person and I think that's really sad because that's how low the bar is for him.
In the ending of his quest, you can persuade him and tell him that going forth with the ritual won't set him free even if he thinks it will and I agree. If he's a slave to Cazador now, later he'd be a slave to power and greed. Just look at Cazador, despite being one of the most powerful beings in existence, he still wanted more power. That kind of greed and hunger never ends and Astarion would lose himself and who he has become while he was with us. Yes, it makes him walk in the sun again and do things a regular vampire can't but at what cost? 7,000 lives and his humanity. He would never be able to enjoy this "freedom" because he'll only strive to seek more power. In his ascendant ending, he becomes everything he's ever hated about Cazador, the cycle repeats itself, from Vellioth to Cazador and from Cazador to Astarion. And it will never end. Astarion even refuses to turn you into a vampire and wishes to keep you only as a spawn. With an insight check, you can learn that he thinks you're degrading yourself and he doesn't care. He now sees you as something to own, something to possess, not love. All his good qualities, wants and needs get twisted. Astarion truly only needs to feel like a person again but he doesn't fully realise this until you show it to him, through good deeds and actions, through simple acts of kindness. As he says in his "good" ending "I've been dead in the ground enough. It's time to try living again. With all that life has to offer."
Safety: Astarion wants to feel safe. He is so scared of being found by Cazador, he knows he's looking for him and the only thing giving him some form of safety from Cazador is the tadpole so of course he wants to harness its powers that is until he finds out it'll turn him into another kind of monster, a mind flayer. He doesn't wish to lose himself and his freedom again hence is vehemently against taking on the tadpole's powers but he doesn't stop you because that is of course, your decision to make. He says "if such power would please you, darling, I won't stop you. But do be careful, I want you to remain you." Now the only thing left that can properly give him his freedom is Cazador's death and he wants to kill him himself which I think is perfectly acceptable, Cazador deserves to die and if it is by Astarion's hands, all the better. But, in his romance, he makes it clear that he's doing it for safety, and he tells himself that he wants to take the power of the rite for safety as well because in truth, he is terrified of being powerless again. He does want revenge yes, but he also wants to keep you and himself safe from Cazador, even in the dungeon, if you run an insight check, the narrator tells you that he is losing his mind because of the power that's on offer and the smell of blood in the air. It's almost as if to say "he's losing his mind, please stop him before he forgets who he is." Astarion NEEDS your guidance*, eventually he even thanks you for 'saving him from himself.' In his good ending, he sees that in taking the power, he would be no better than Cazador and would become everything he's ever hated about him, and inflict on others what his former master inflicted on him, starting with you. His ascendant ending is honestly a very sad ending for his character, all that growth, change and development you bring to him throughout your journey just gone down the drain as he becomes an unfeeling, evil, narcissistic arsehole who only craves for more power. In his good ending, he will be safe, with you and with the friends he has made along the way. He is proud of himself and so is everyone else, it offers him a kind of friendship that's afforded to very few in the D&D world, especially a vampire/spawn whose very existence is hated. It is a bond based on trust, loyalty and to a degree, even love instead of fear like in the ascendant ending.
Abandonment and Fear: Astarion is driven by fear but he also knows facing Cazador is inevitable and something he needs to face rather than avoid. Even if he isn't outright seeking it (but he does seek it) I think he is braver than he likes to think and he definitely has some anti-hero traits. He likes the tadpole because it helped him get away from Cazador's authority and he enjoys bending others to his will since it makes him feel more powerful compared to how he's felt the past two centuries. But if you choose to not do the same, he doesn't really care. He doesn't except it of you nor is he disappointed (since he neither approves or disapproves. He only disapproves helping people who didn't ask or didn't want to be helped) he only gives a snarky comment or two about what he would've done instead and follows you anyway. He realises you're a good person. If you indulge too much however, I would argue that he agrees simply because he doesn't want you to turn against him. Perhaps he believes that you can turn on him and kill him as easily as you killed the tieflings or other innocents. He probably thinks it's easier to turn a good person evil than an evil person, good (tbh he wouldn't be entirely wrong.) And making bad choices does negatively affect his character of course but I just thought I'd put that out there as I think it's very likely for him to do so. He is definitely extremely paranoid, he hardly ever says how he truly feels out loud but when you break up with him (it's so heartbreaking omg) he says "I was beginning to think someone truly wanted me. I shouldn't have deluded myself." and "From the start, I was rather counting the hours until it was going to end. Midnight chimes, eh?" As heartbreaking as it is, the latter line shows how terrified he was of being abandoned or only be used for his body, he kept obessesively worrying that Tav would leave him after he bore his heart out to them. There's another bit of dialogue in Act 1 where he is trying his lines with you to get you to sleep with him a second time and you can say no which he is fine with but if you outright reject him there, meaning "I never want to see you like that again" he gets extremely sad: "Well, excuse me while I die of a broken heart. [slight chuckle] In all honesty, it's a shame. That time was special to me. I've gotten on my back 10,000 times or more and forgotten half of them. But you, I'll remember. [long pause] Have a fine evening... dear." Mind you, this is after you've only slept with him once. His dialogue makes it seem like he was already catching feelings for you, and not realising that himself until this happens. Seeing this made me realise that you're the first person he's slept with of his own volition, even if it was to seduce you. For the longest time, I think Astarion doesn't even want to believe you'll like him as something more than someone to sleep with, he hopes you might as his rejection line says so but astarion is nothing if not careful and well, paranoid.
That's why he's so shocked when you choose to not let him bite Araj at Moonrise even if it gave you something powerful in return. He sees that you chose his comfort over a genuinely useful commodity. Biting people or using his vampire, well, anything makes him extremely uncomfortable since it reminds him of things he needed to do for Cazador. If he bites her, it makes him feel like being a slave again, but bending to your will and wishes instead of his former master's. He realises he doesn't know how to say no. Which is another thing he says if you wish to pursue only a sexual relationship with him. He feels played.
Freedom: this is probably the main theme to his character arc. He wants to be free, not only from his master but also free to make right decisions and make decisions for himself, something he hasn't been able to do for years. This is why respecting his decision to not sleep with you is important to him, he doesn't feel comfortable being physically close to someone in a sexual way as it makes him doubt the person's true intentions and feelings and of course, makes him feel loathsome and disgusted with himself. He needs that time where you just connect as people to really see that you are in fact genuine and he wouldn't be hurt if he trusted you or gave you his heart. Towards the end of the game, he is still quite ruthless, but mostly only towards people who do wrong and are criminals. Astarion has a very strong set of ideals, he believes that people who do wrong deserve to die no matter the crime. I don't think this is entirely true, every crime deserves a different punishment but most criminals, those who do severe wrong and still get away with it, do deserve to die but this is just my opinion of course. He is ruthless towards bad people because that's how people have been to him, at least Cazador and I wouldn't be surprised if he was treated badly during his sexual encounters with strangers while working for him.
Why I think the Ascendant ending is a tragic ending for Astarion's character and for you.
I won't lie, there are some aspects of ascended Astarion that are pretty hot and I'm a sucker for (pun absolutely intended) powerful, gothic vampires but this ending comes at the cost of way too much. One simply being: Astarion isn't Astarion anymore. All his snarkiness, playful nature and strange innocence is gone. In his ascendant ending, that is, when he takes the power of the Rite of Ascension for himself by carving the same rune on Cazador's back that's on his own, Astarion loses himself. In D&D lore, full vampires are unfeeling, ruthless and have all their good traits twisted into something more malignant and evil. If Astarion loved you, that love turns into possession, if he cared for you, it turns into obsession. He doesn't truly care anymore... as a vampire, he is manipulating you and telling you things you want to hear instead of what he's actually feeling. He never truly got that moment of catharsis by killing Cazador as he does in his spawn ending. That simple bliss of killing the man that enslaved him and worse all these years; he never gets to experience that because he ends up using Cazador for the same power Cazador killed Vellioth for in the past, albeit worse. It's a never-ending cycle. And if he turns you into his spawn, you will go through the same fate Astarion went through and probably turn on him the same way he turned on Cazador. He has absolutely no sympathy for you or for anyone that is not him, in fact he feels almost disgusted by you because he thinks you're degrading yourself in front of him. There is a conversation between him and if you refuse to become his spawn, and I think it sums up his character perfectly as a vampire, it goes like this:
(choosing different options will have different dialogues but they more or less lead to him saying the same thing.)
ASTARION: Just so you know, I have everything I've ever wanted. Everything lies ahead. I can see my path to a waking dream. From the Crimson Palace, I will govern day and night. Create a city of spawn who bow before me, cast a fog over the world for my children.
TAV: But the Palace halls will be lonely.
ASTARION: You'll be lonelier than I. Very soon I will discover how to call my legions of wolves, become a sea of mist, run wrongside-up on roofs. [laughs] Everything vampires do best.
You could have, too. [sniggers] What a waste.
TAV: You don't really have anything at all.
ASTARION: I can take anything I want. I should've made you a spawn just to teach you that.
And there we have it, that last bit of dialogue shows how Astarion is now everything he hated about his own master. He is Cazador's literal and spiritual successor, he thinks you need to be punished for rejecting him. He doesn't feel for you anymore, at least not in a human way. He has become someone else entirely, for the worst. His drive for taking the power of the rite was to be able to walk in the sun again but as a full vampire, he wants to "dominate it (the world) until the sun melts and give ourselves over to the night."
Astarion NEEDS change, he needs to see that the world can be a kinder place than the one he's lived in this whole time. Just a bit of care and love with him goes a long way. In his spawn ending, he comes to realise that you gave him his life back even if it was as a spawn because that is true freedom. He is free from his master, and greed & power which was in the disguise of safety. He may never be able to walk in the sun, but he is free to make his own decisions that are driven by his choices. One of them being; wanting and loving you, living a full life with you, whatever that may entail.
If you went into the game thinking that Astarion will betray you no matter what then giving him the ascendant ending brings your fears to life. Astarion doesn't learn anything, by making him a full vampire, you basically tell him that he can only be powerful and worth something if he has super vampire powers, and in turn, you lose everything too. Astarion may have gained unparralled strength but now he has no need of you, you gave him everything he wanted and nothing he needed so now he can do whatever he wants with you because you are lesser than him, literally, he is much stronger than you are and his power will only grow as he discovers more of it. He tries to manipulate you into turning you into a spawn. A dialogue being:
TAV: After everything you went through with Cazador, you're going to make me a spawn?
ASTARION: Oh that was completely different, I'd never hurt you. I love you. That's what you've been waiting to hear, isn't it? That's what you want?
Which just shows you how he's only saying "I love you" because that's what you want to hear, so you agree to becoming his spawn. He doesn't mean it, it doesn't really have any feeling behind it whatsoever. And if he turns you into a spawn, you have basically lost everything. Because he is obsessive over you, he'll never let you go and since now he is properly evil, he likely won't turn you into a vampire either, even if he says he will.
This is just my take on the ending though, I think we can all agree the ascendant ending is the evil ending for his character, even if it is an ending you prefer. I'm not trying to hate on anyone who does like this ending, only stating that I think it is meant to be evil and I personally don't like it.
CONCLUSION
Once you get to truly know Astarion, he's a pretty decent guy. I can't speak much for people who didn't romance him, I'm not entirely sure how his non-romance route plays out. The good conclusion of his quest is so wholesome, where he says he feels "truly, honestly free" and tells you "you saved me from myself. This is a gift, you know, thank you. I won't forget it." getting full circle to the first time you let him bite you (the only time in my case.) It shows so much character development and pure joy in the way he thanks you (it doesn't need to be said but props to Neil Newbon for bringing the character to life.) He will always be a spawn and yet, he feels like "anything and everything is possible" because of you and the choices you made with him, you believed in him when he didn't believe in himself, you showed him that he is enough just the way he is and he doesn't need to become a full vampire to be strong and powerful. Astarion comes out of his finale, a much more positive person, who actually cares even if he won't show it and the best part is, he always keeps that tiny streak of evil and mischief within him. He hasn't lost sight of himself, he's just less spiteful now and feels free to actually enjoy life rather than constantly being scared of what might happen to him. He finds trust and happiness in you and it makes him happy that you find the same within him. You are his home and he hopes he is yours.
I understand that my analysis may not be perfect and my interpretation of the character may be different from someone else's but that's fine, he is a video game character that can be played so many ways and people can go around it however they like, interpret his character however they wish. This is just what I think.
NOTES
'Astarion needs your guidance.' - no, this is not gaslight-y. Astarion is a deeply troubled character and clearly finds it hard to differentiate between right and wrong. He often asks for your input and what you think by Act 2 which isn't a bad thing, he's asking for help and I think that shows how far he's come. In the final scene of his quest, he is overcome by the promise of power and the safety it would've provided which would've consumed him as it did Cazador, Astarion admits to this himself too later on once he can think clearly and is in a more positive mindset. There is nothing wrong with guiding your partner towards something that will eventually be better for their growth as a person in the long run.
#astarion analysis#forgotten realms#astarion and tav#astarion x tav#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3#baldurs gate#astarion bg3#bg3 astarion#astarion baldur's gate 3#astarion baldurs gate#astarion x mc#tav x astarion#astarion romance#bg3#astarion#astarion baldur's gate
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At least I got you in my head (1)
prologue
Summary: Abby is straight. And then you move in with her.
Tags: modern au, fem!reader, straight!abby (she is doing some comphet bullshit), pining, idiot in love and it's abby, reader is gay and tired.
Notes: take a shot every time Abby experiences ~gay~
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-
It all had started when Abby’s nice, perfect, amazing roommate decided to get married at the ripe age of 21 - which Abby didn’t understand at all, but she got invited to the wedding, so she kept her mouth shut about it. Except the marriage meant that her nice, perfect, amazing roommate would move out and go live her dream life with her sweetheart. And although the money wasn’t really a problem - Abby’s dad was a neurosurgeon, which meant he was loaded and Abby didn’t have to worry about anything financially - Abby really didn’t want to bother her dad and spend his money on the whole apartment when she could find a roommate.
That was how Abby ended up with you as her new nice, perfect, amazing roommate. She didn't even care that the first thing you said to her was that you were a lesbian - which she didn't mind at all, 70 percent of her teammates were not straight, she was used to it, even though she was straight. But after Abby gave herself time to think about it, she understood why you said it right away - not all people were nice, and not all people were okay with living with someone who potentially could be attracted to them.
Abby was absolutely cool with it.
What she actually cared about was if you left your dishes in the sink, and you didn’t.
The first week living together was what Abby expected it to be: you both were getting used to your respective schedules, your habits and pet peeves, not talking much - Abby wasn’t sure if you even wanted to be her friend or you’d prefer to just stay as roommates who saw each other twice a day for five minutes. The most you spoke to her was to ask where something was or if it was okay to use something and where you could put all your things.
Abby thought you were chill and confident with the way you carried yourself - it reminded her of some of her teammates, who were confident in a way girls were not expected to be confident. More like dominant? And they had nothing in common with you. Well, except for the gay thing. Abby wasn’t sure if there was a correlation.
You both weren't at home a lot, but usually when Abby'd get from practice you'd be already at home and just out of the shower. Abby felt a little awkward when she saw you in a short towel and she tried not to look at you or anywhere dangerous. You didn't seem to notice how she only looked into your eyes when you walked from the bathroom to your room, water running down your neck and your thighs as you said your hellos. Abby didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with her, because she showered with 20 girls on regular basis and it didn’t make sense that she felt the need to look away from you, but who had time to reflect on it? Not Abby.
Abby would hit the shower next and come back to the smell of food in the kitchen - you told her on the first night that you didn't mind sharing your food with her or even cooking for both of you, and Abby quickly agreed to your offer.
That was a first ritual you two established: Abby'd come home, take a shower and then hang out with you in the kitchen while you were cooking dinner. Today you looked a little tired, and Abby got it - it was Friday and the whole week was hard for both of you with getting back into studying mode.
“How are you on this god-awful day?” You asked Abby with a small smile while you fried something on the pan.
“Happy it’s the end of the week.” Abby sighed and leaned back on her chair, relaxing. “Profs are already talking about the finals, so annoying. We just had one class, calm the fuck down.”
“Yeah. It’s bad for you med students.” You said with no actual compassion, but with a smile. “Sorry, I’m going to remind you that this misery is your choice every time when you’ll be on the brink of death during finals.”
Abby laughed at that.
“Unfortunately for you I’m not the one to complain about my choices.” Abby shot back and you laughed.
“That’s admirable.” You nodded your head in theatrical appreciation. “Then you can make fun of me during finals because I will be complaining about every little thing. In a funny way, don’t worry.”
“Thanks for clarification.” Abby chuckled.
“Do you want to watch something after we eat?” You asked casually and Abby felt her heart beating faster - you wanted to be friends with her after all!
"Yeah, sure."
You smiled at Abby and turned the stove off, taking the plates from the cabinet to put your food on. Abby was cool. She was sweet, a little of a scaredy cat with you - you didn’t think anything of it, you just met, maybe she was just awkward with new people. Abby looked confident with her friends and when you saw her in the corridors of your university Abby looked downright intimidating, tall and strong, commanding. At home though? She seemed shy. You supposed she'd get more assertive when she'd get comfortable with you, but even now she seemed like a genuinely cool person.
You were still dealing with how attractive Abby was, your eyes always lingered on her shoulders and arms - you had a thing for athletes, what can you say - but you tried to suppress it as best as possible. The fact that Abby was so sweet around you didn't really help either, but what we can’t act upon makes us better at repressing, so that was what you were doing for the past week. The best strategy you had was to remind yourself Abby was straight, and it was working, especially if she gave you compliments the way only straight girls did, with this high tone at the end - if Abby wasn’t that buff she’d probably ask where did you get something just to finish you. Thank god you had a very different taste in clothes.
You finished your dinner making a small talk, still getting used to each other's mannerisms and sense of humour, with yours being more dark. Abby was surprisingly good at keeping up with you and not stuttering in shock when you’d say something awful, and it made you smile every time she'd make a comeback that was just as good. Again, it wasn't helping.
"What do you want to watch?"
"I like horrors, actually." You said as you sat on the other side of the couch, keeping the distance.
"Yeah, we can watch some horror." Abby shrugged as she sat down and gave you the blanket. "More cosy that way."
You smiled and put it over your lap.
Not. Fucking. Helping.
Abby watched you getting comfortable and something filled her chest with pride, like providing comfort for you was something important to her. Well, Ellie always said Abby was a mom friend, and she was. She liked taking care of people around her, and now that you were her roommate she'd take care of you too.
"Do you like horrors too or do you want me to hold your hand during scary moments?" You asked with a smirk, and Abby huffed.
"Are you trying to trick me into holding your hand?" Abby smirked too, pleased with your little surprised reaction.
"I'm more of a cuddler." You winked and Abby laughed. She liked how easy it was to banter with you even though you knew each other only for a week. "No, really, are you okay with horror? I don't want you to have nightmares after."
"I'm okay, don't worry." Abby murmured and gave you the remote. "I'm not a big fan, so you choose."
You shrugged and went through the list of horror movies while Abby got comfortable on the other end of the couch, leaning on the arm rest. It felt a little awkward, to be that far away from you - Abby was so used to always being close with her girl friends, but to be fair, you weren’t even friends yet. The movie you picked wasn’t a slasher (“i want to be scared, not grossed out”), but more of a psychological horror that actually made Abby uneasy. And then this movie had a fucking jumpscare that made you both jump and curse out loud. Abby let out a small chuckle and you shared a look between you, silently bonding over a scary feeling.
“You sure you don’t want to hold my hand?” You teased and Abby rolled her eyes at you, but her heart was still beating too fast from the sudden scare.
“I’m not a little bitch.” Abby said and smiled when you laughed.
“Okay, big bad Abby.” You murmured and focused on the movie.
Even though the movie was unsettling, your little bitchy comments were making Abby laugh way more than feeling scared.
"Do you really enjoy getting scared or are you just choosing something to complain about?" Abby asked with a smile.
"Horror movies are like straight sex, you know. In theory you get scared shitless, in practice you complain about men not knowing how to scare you." You shrugged and Abby snorted, feeling like this was too real. "Sorry if I'm being crude, I got too comfortable for a second there."
Abby noticed your look, like you were trying to read her reaction if you crossed a line, but Abby only laughed.
"Do I look like someone who can't take a sex joke?" Abby teased as she stood up, stretching.
"Should I assume you're tough as fuck because you kick ass?"
"Yeah, you should." Abby murmured and looked in your eyes. There was a second of silence while you just stared back at her, surprised, and Abby felt something warm in her stomach. "Tea?"
"Yeah."
After that movie night things got so much easier for both of you, and after three weeks of living together you already fell into the routine like you lived for three years already. You became friends very fast, quickly moving from spending evenings in your rooms to spending evenings hanging out in the living room together. It was like you just clicked in all the right places, balancing each other out, and you couldn’t feel more relieved. You were getting used to Abby and your first intense attraction finally ebbed away: you were not going to chase after a straight girl - you were not, in fact, an idiot. And you weren’t going to question her sexuality or try to “turn her gay”, because who were you to tell her who she was? Abby told her she was straight, and that was it. You still enjoyed looking at her and flirting with her, and Abby was an amazing person so it wasn’t hard to like her. But otherwise? Abby was an amazing roommate and even better friend.
The end of September came around so quickly you didn’t even notice, too busy with classes and tutoring and maintaining some kind of social life, because Cait really needed someone to drag her out from the fucking library and ventilate her big brain. You admired her study habits, but sometimes she’d forget to sleep, and you had to kick her ass and make her take care of herself. That was the price of being friends with the smartest woman on campus.
It was again a Friday night when you cooked and Abby sat at the table while you chatted about your days and plans, now so much more comfortable with each other. You were right, Abby just needed to get used to you in order to stop being so shy and you basked in her confident personality now.
“Do you have any plans for tomorrow?”
“I don’t kno-o-w.” Abby sighed like tomorrow's plans were torturing her. “Ellie wants to go out, but I don’t know if I’m in the mood.”
“Well, I plan to go out too, actually. Maybe we can join forces?” You asked curiously. “I feel like Cait would enjoy Ellie’s company if she is the nerd you’re saying she is.”
“She is an embarrassment.” Abby shrugged and you laughed. “I’m still shocked how she has any game at all.”
“Listen. Is she hot?”
“I guess?”
“Then there you go. She has game because she is hot.”
“That’s kinda shallow.”
“Do you really need to get to know someone better to hook up?” You scrunched your nose in doubt.
“I mean, some people do.”
“Then it’s not a hookup anymore, no? I mean, if I just want to get some stress relief do I really have mental space to learn about someone’s political views?”
“So you’ve fucked republicans.” Abby nodded and you laughed. “That’s fucked up, (y/n).”
“You see, that’s what I’m saying. I don’t know and I don’t want to know. Obviously you won’t miss the fact that they’re an asshole, so if it’s not the case, why not? Dating is a different story though.”
“Yeah.” Abby nodded again.
“So are we going out tomorrow?”
“Well, when I’m attacked on two fronts I don’t feel like I have a choice.” Abby chuckled the way it made you hot, but yet again you pushed the stupid feeling down.
Abby watched you cook as she was digesting what you’ve just discussed. It was the first time you acknowledged your sex life and Abby felt a little uneasy. Sex talk didn’t make her uncomfortable, and other people’s experience didn’t make her feel insecure, so she really couldn’t place why she felt just a little icky. Maybe your crudeness finally crossed her line? But Abby wasn’t sensitive to such topics, Ellie talked her ear off with her sex escapades, so why did she feel so strange? Her stomach growled and suddenly everything made sense: she was just in a low, sensitive mood because she was hungry and tired.
And indeed her mood got better after she took the first fork filled with pasta and her stomach was now growling in happiness.
“There’s a whole whale living in your stomach.” You smirked, but your stomach growled too and Abby snorted.
“Seems like you had one too.”
“Whale to whale communication.” You shrugged and Abby chuckled. “Have you ever listened to whale songs?”
“No. But I heard they’re supposed to help you relax.”
“Well you’re listening to one now, so you tell me if you’re relaxed.”
“Oh I’m so relaxed I’d listen to the sound of not being hungry for hours.” Abby said and watched you roll your eyes fondly, because you looked so funny when you did it and Abby liked it. Abby’s phone buzzed with a notification and she unlocked it, but the clock caught her eye. “It’s almost 8, don’t you have a lesson?”
You looked up with saucers of the eyes and Abby laughed at how shocked and scared you got.
“Fuck!” You said with a mouth full of food as you jumped out of your chair while Abby laughed at you. “Fuck, how much time do I have?”
“Three minutes.”
“Shit. Fuck, can I ask you to sort this out?” You nodded at the food on the stove and at your plate. “Sorry.”
“You’re fine, don’t worry.” Abby said gently, trying to soothe you. “Go teach poor kids.”
You nodded and ran to your room to get yourself set up, and Abby finished her dinner while texting Ellie.
from: els
soooo
are we going out tomorrow ?
to: els
you r so annoying
but yes
(y/n) wants us to go together, she is going out with a friend too
from: els
oooh
coooool
you mean I’ll meet the smart sexy lady you live with?
Abby rolled her eyes - she mentioned once that you were smart and she was learning some things from you and Ellie couldn’t leave her alone after that.
to: els
yeah
but don’t be a dick to her
from: els
excuse me
I would never be a dick to a lady
to: els
you’re a dick to me all the time
from: els
who said you were a lady
The audacity of this bitch, Abby thought as she sent Ellie a not so sweet sticker. She finished her dinner while bickering with Ellie and then tidied the kitchen. Your lessons were usually around an hour, so Abby didn’t need to hurry. She washed the dishes and put leftovers away. Abby thought it was so nice of you to cook for both of them, it was warming her heart - she didn’t like cooking, and having someone to take it off her was so amazing. God if you weren’t busy she’d hug you right now, she was so grateful.
But Abby settled for setting up her favourite part of Friday nights: beating your ass in Mortal Combat. What can she say, seeing you riled up but helpless against her, cursing her but unable to win anyway - fuck, Abby loved it. Now she'd just need to wait for you.
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Blaze's Compendium Entry #10: The Khyah (Cyak, Kack, Khya)
Warning: Faith and religion are important real life topics, that tackles the culture and way of life of millions of real life people. It is a cultural expression, and must be respected by all means. Here, we use a video-game ( some times) and other media series only to ignite the flame of learning about the matter, using its art when well depicted, but we do this with all due respect to the cultures we talk here, grounded by real life sources, cultures and people. And i mean this with respect. Hope you all enjoy.
Also, please note that the Sources for this one will be a bit tricky, since we are talking about a regional and always developing urban legend and cosmology, which is not very well documented in traditional books. In this case we have to turn our attention to personal stories and every day people who lives in this culture.
The Khyah (ख्या) is a mythical creature that is part of the greater Nepali folklore and cosmology. Specifically from the Newar people from the Kathmandu Valley.
Some sources will say that its name means literally ''Ghost'' or ''Haunt'', ''Phantasm'', etc... However i was not able to confirm this. The language spoken by Newar people is the Nepal Bhasa, which is also written in the Devanagari script, just like Hindi. I do not speak this language, so please if you do, reach me out! But in any case, it seems that the word for ''Ghost'' in Newar is ''गुफा'' or ''gupha''. It may be the case that the name: ''Kyah'' got so used to general supernatural occurrences, that it got mixed up. Just like we talked about the Saci in my other post. -This is not uncommon to happen- I used regular online translators to reach this conclusion, but feel free to correct me if i am wrong because i could not consult any native to talk about this matter during my research.
For a bit of context, The Newar are people that historically inhabited the Kathmandu Valley, and the regions around Nepal. As we said before, they speak Newari (Nepal Bhasa). They have 3 major cities, those being Kathmandu, Patan and Bhatgaon. [1] The academic research on the Newar people just started at the early 20th century, the french anthropologist Sylvain, wrote a very famous and complete work called Le Nepal, that was one of the first western written works about the region, and its people. Their religion are mostly Hinduism, Buddhism and there are minorities from other beliefs.
The Newar live in this region since ancient times, way longer before Nepal even existed as a Estate. According to most history books, the Newar would live alone in the region, being sovereigns of the Kathmandu valley up until the Gorgkha Kingdom in 1769. It is very hard to know much about the Newar before that in details, since they are in the region for so long, and mixed so much with other people from around the Nepal, that even their history ends up blending with mythology.
For example: according to the sacred Swayambhu Purana, a Buddhist scripture, the Kathmandu Valley was once a huge lake, Inhabited by Nagas*. That is, until one day the Bodhisattva Manjusri with the help of a powerful sacred sword, sliced the surrounding hills, which in turn made the water flow away. This information is even on Kathmandu government official site!
This myth was later confirmed to have a basis, since NASA themselves found out clues that Kathmandu was in fact, once a huge lake. NASA did not reply me about the Naga thought. Bummer...
*The Swayambhu Purana is a Buddhist text essential to Newar Buddhism. However i sadly could not find a copy online, but there are some summarized versions translated to English, which i am using as guide. For instance the US Wikipedia article, sources books that i also could not find, but i could verify the authors! So... That's something, i guess.
This goes to show how the Newar people are rooted in their mythology, and how this is completely absorbed by even their space and surroundings. Even something as the very foundation of their lands is a hierophany.
This brings us to the Kyah, that we will see can show us a lot about this society.
About the Khyah
The Khyah are supernatural creatures that are hairy, looks like apes, sometimes extremely chubby and have their bodies are totally covered in hair. This description is corroborated my multiple sources, like ''Dietrich, Angela (1998). Tantric healing in the Kathmandu Valley: A comparative study of Hindu and Buddhist spiritual healing traditions in urban Nepalese society. Book Faith India.'' But not only that, the Khyah are also represented in multitudes of paintings and also in costumes for the Yenya Festival. The only thing that can sometimes be different, is that if it will be treated like a Ghost or a more physical creature.
The wealth goddess Lakshmi and two Khyah serving her, in a painting on a Kathmandu temple.
About this painting and sourcing the Khyah appearance:
I have made tireless efforts to pin down the origin of this painting. And many others! This one is present in most of the articles about the Khyah in the internet, even local articles from Nepal itself. However i was not able to pinpoint where it came from. All the sources i found either say this is from a ''temple'' or that it was taken by an individual named: Karrattul. This is not the photographer's name, but instead the name of the profile who uploaded it on the Wikipedia, where it was uploaded in 2012! I tried to reach to Nepali communities and other enthusiasts of History and Mythology, but no one could help me. If you know anything about this painting, please contact me!
For the same reason, it is almost impossible to find sourced materials about the khyah appearance. We know that there are traits like the hair, that keep intact from place to place, but i could not find a central work detailing the creature. We have those paintings from so called temples to trust, and the ceremonial suits used in the Khyah dance.
I will link here a video of a Khyah Dance performance, so you can see the physical traits of this creature are well agreed between the locals.
youtube
The Khyah is popular among children, or at least were at one point. This can be seen in a popular children song sang in Nepal. It depicts the Khyah as a cute and hungry little critter, as the kid in the song is encouraged to give food to it. The Kyah seems never to be satisfied sadly...
A banger...
The Khyah is indeed often treated like a type of ghost. In my personal opinion they are simmilar to Djinn, some kinds of yokai and can be classified generically as a type of monster or apparition, in my view at least. (This means a supernatural creature, that is in between a human and a god like being.) The Newar believe that the Khyah has active participation in events of their daily lives. But they also are not all bad or good, they are multiple entities, some good and some bad. Usually there are white colored Khyah who are good, and black colored Khyah who are bad.
They have their own lives, families, and friends. There are a lot of tales and works related to this creature, not counting personal tales of every day people and their encouters with this little devil. That's how ingrained in the Newar culture the Khyah is.
I was able to track the writings of a Kathmandu Valley denizen, which happened to write about the Kyahk! [3] This person was kind enough to provide a lot of personal information about the regional culture, in their personal website. According to the locals, the Khyah would often live in houses, squares, public spaces, and would regularly interfere with their existence. Not all Khyah are bad, some can protect the households they inhabit, they can bring fortune and good luck. Although, the Khyah fears light, so they have to live in dark corners of the house, like the attic or some empty room.
The Unitedstatian Wikipedia page for Khyah shares some unusual information, that we can not trace to any sources. For instance, they mention that this creature supposedly fears electricity. As interesting as it may seen, the source from this particular information goes to a book called: '' Asian folklore studies, Volume 55. Nanzan University Institute of Anthropology'' Which i was unable to find to read online, and was also unable to find it by its ISBN trackers: 9057890984, 9789057890987. Those took me to another book, called: ''Caturmāsa. Celebrations of Death in Kathmandu, Nepal’'
This one seems to exist, but i also could not find it anywhere online. Google Books has some samples, and it guarantees that the word ''Khyak'' or any variations of sorts, are not on it, which means this is a misinformation. Someone probably interpreted that the fact that Khyah fear light, can also apply to electricity as an energy source. I think you won't be letting your homie Khyah uncomfortable having electricity at your house, don't worry.
Again, according to locals [3] There are two variable Khyah: Black and White. The white are the ones who bring luck, and the Black ones gives you trouble. No matter what kind of this creature you have in your house, you should respect it. They are often revered and well treated. They have their own cozy dark place to hide, like the bhandar and dhkuti. Those are places of the house used to store grains and valuables.
There are other variations according to other local sources sources [3] [4] Those Khyah are usually described as:
-Bārāy Khyāh (बाराय् ख्याः) appears in rooms where girls are kept in seclusion during their rite of passage to adulthood (first period). [5] (Very documented, and easy to track on western sources)
-Bhakun Gwārā Khyāh (भकुं ग्वारा ख्याः), literally football, rolls on the ground to move around. (Most common Khyah, probably the one Kaneko tried to draw! Most commonly seen in regional urban legends. Not very documented in translated to English literature)
-Dhāpalān Khyāh (धापलां ख्याः) is a very hairy Khyah. (Very popular because of that children's song, still sang to this day.)
-Lanpan Khyāh (लँपं ख्याः) blocks people’s way on dark streets. (Not much about this one, really. At least not in western sources. It seems that, along with Bhakun Khyah is probably more of a word of mouth thing)
The relationship with Kawancha
The origin legend for the Khyah goes that, in the distant past, two gods had a baby. They fought to see who had the right to hold the baby, but ended up tearing the child apart. The skin peeled off, revealing just flesh and bones that would separate. The flesh became Khyak, and the bones Kawancha, a skeleton that would be the Anthitesis to the Khyak. This relationship is portrayed in paintings and regional dance festivals. [3]
Also known as Kavam, the skeleton monster seems to be the other half of the Khyah. It is extremely hard to find sources about this, not only because it is a very specific regional folk belief passed down orally, but also because the language barriers. One could in theory go there in person to collect sources about this part of the lore, but it is not an option for me. Someone at Reddit pointed out to me that in some regions, they are not related at all, being just monsters from the same sources. So, their lore seem to vary from place to place.
Painting depicting Kwancha/Kavam and Khyah in Kathmandu. Origin Unknown.
As much as I tried for months, I could not come with a source for this information besides literal oral tradition. But for sure these two are indeed connected in some places. You can see them in several paintings at Kathmandu, and they also have their own dance performance telling their story and painting their relationship. As the Reddit user mentioned, their connection will vary from place to place. Being more of a localized and oral tradition.
youtube
In the performance you can see Khyah and Kwancha performing together, as they show their relationship. Still according to [3], the instrument played in these performances is the Dhimay. Its made from tree bark, and the legend says the gods later created this tool to help control the beings, and communicate with them. In the author's perspective, this was meant to showcase the duality of our universe. This being the real nature of those beings.
Again, I lack written and traceable sources. While the Dhimay is indeed a real instrument, used on those performances, there are almost no mentions of it being related to Khyah or Kwancha in the western internet. This also falls in the category of facts I could not check because of being probably too of a localized oral tradition.
I could at least find some sourced paintings. Like this one, shared by the Twitter user Sanjib Chaudhary Who is an author himself on Nepalese culture.
Kwancha and Khyah are shown in this painting on Jaya Bageshwori temple, in Gaushala.
Also, while Khyah is very well documented in the west, the same can not be said about Kwancha. It is easy to find dances, masks, his Megami Tennsei design (being the most easy result) and paintings about the skeleton monster, but almost nothing on its nature and lore. This means I highly doubt everything the Megaten games say about it to be factual, although they do in fact exist in Nepalese culture.
One thing i noticed is that Kaneko himself could have watched a dance performance of Kwancha and Khyah, or at least seen pictures. Because his Kwancha design for Devil Summoner has the clothing in colors and shapes very similar to some Kwancha performers:
This specific clothing can be seen here: Kawancha (Skeleton) Dance of Bhaktapur कवांचा प्याखं , तौलाछें, भक्तपुर ll Part of Bharab Dance ll
The final point on this part is their origin: Which gods crated them? This rent a space in my brain for free for the last year or so. While I could not find it for sure, this does not mean it is wrong or not factually a belief in their tradition. Buddhism has many gods and entities, and i suspect the ones who created the Khyah accidentally, are just regular Devas.
Modern mentions?
Khyah tales are in the heart of Kathmandu people, and many other Nepal regions. For centuries they dominated the children's tales and late night scare stories of that region. In 1992, Jim Goodman published a book called ''Tales of Old Bhaktapur'' Which complied some folk tales from Nepal.
Sure enough, Khyah makes an appearance in it. At page 28, there is a story about a Khyah haunting a house, and how a boy deals with it. Sadly the book is not openly available on the internet, but google books have some parts readable:
There is also the book: Tales of Kathmandu: folktales from the Himalayan kingdom of Nepal (1980). This book was published by the authors Karna Sakya, Linda Griffith. This book seems to put together many popular folk tales from Nepal, and in the page 105 we have a story called ''The Khya of Marusata.''
Now, as this seems to be the case with every freaking material in this search, this book is not available online, but google books has many parts available. Sadly, we can only see the title of the story. What we can know by a quick google search, is that Marusata is some kind of square in central Kathmandu. I tried to search this tale online, but I could not find. Will try to keep searching for it eventually.
Also, in the books first pages, around 20 or so, Khyah are mentioned too:
It seems to classify Khyah as demons, just like their neighbors Rakshasas. Which is not exactly on the point here, but its interesting nonetheless.
The Khyah are still recognized today, and are well known in the community. But even if the western internet made a good job of preserving its lore and some of their character, their presence is very scarce. By going on Eirikr Kaneko Crib's notes I found that one of the most recent official appearances of the creature online was on the site Local Nepal Today. This seems to be a site dedicated to portray and preserve Nepalese culture and report on situations at the region. It is however, done by foreigners that went to Nepal afterwards. The site seems to be dead, but they do mention their hearings about the Khyah! Here they call it Kack.
The authors compare it to European elves and trolls, which is not exactly a good match. They are more akin to Brownies, Silkies and some kind of Kikimora.
In any way, their description matches most sources, and oral sources alike: They are shy, prefer dark and isolated places, and hate the light. They also comment on the duality between the white Khyah and the black Khyahk.
Most important thought, they mentions talking to an elderly woman in Kathmandu, who shared her own stories about meeting the creature:
''An elderly woman in Kathmandu who saw several kacks – all white ones. The closest encounter was with a quiet, furry fellow who came and sat on her lap! Many of those who’ve seen a kack will tell you how these “little people” would come and sit on the edge of their bed for a while, keeping them half amazed, half in shock the rest of the night. A white kack is friendly – but it can still be a bit scary.''
They also gathered information from old Kathmandu citizens on why the Khyahk tales are vanishing nowadays:
'''Well, old people who grew up in the heart of kack territory – Kathmandu – will usually tell you a simpler reason: kacks are shy creatures and so, since the capital has become crowded and noisy, many have left. Sure kacks can hide and move about by stealth, but there’s a limit. Either way, now it’s no-longer in Kathmandu but in the villages you’ll hear about kacks the most.''
In my personal view, its interesting to connect the vast and accelerated growth of Kathmandu, to the losing of traditions and oral folk tales, which ended up making the Khyah tales vanish bit by bit, becoming isolated to small nearby villages.
This makes me a bit sad, because if there is no one trying to preserve those traditions, it may very well disappear as the times goes on. The internet has this amazing tool to preserve culture, but we do not seem to be using it enough.
In this regard, I am glad that Kazuma Kaneko imortalized Kyahk in the Shin Megami Tensei series, even if they are not regular monsters on the newer games, many people probably had their first encounter with this critter through that.
And that is it! Everything I could gather! Hope you guys enjoyed!
Beware the Kyhak at the feet of your bed!
Thank you for reading through it all. I actually started this research more than 1 year ago, but postponed it multiple times, since I started doing scientific research at college, and other monsters looked way more easy to research.
Stick with me for more deep dives on critters from around the world.
Sources: [1]- "Elements of Newar Social Structure". Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute. Royal Anthropological Institute of Great Britain and Ireland.’’ - Christoph Von Furer- Haimendorf, 1956.
[2]- Dietrich, Angela (1998). Tantric healing in the Kathmandu Valley: A comparative study of Hindu and Buddhist spiritual healing traditions in urban Nepalese society. Book Faith India.
[3]- Himalayancultures.com -Personal blog of a Kathmandu citzen that shares a bit about regional folklore and culture. Extremely interesting to see stuff from a personal point of view.
[4]-Archive My Sansar - Regional website about Nepali culture.
[5]- Growing Up: Hindu and Buddhist Initiation Rituals Among Newar Children in Bhaktapur, Nepal, 2008, Otto Harrassowitz Verlag. (Pag 174)
[6]- Tales of Old Bhaktapur'' - Jim Goodman (1992)
[7]- Tales of Kathmandu: folktales from the Himalayan kingdom of Nepal (1980)
[8]- Local Nepal Today
#blazescompendiumentry#mythology#blazescompendium#shin megami tensei#kazuma kaneko#nepal#kathmandu#folklore#Newar
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