#not the same thing???? what am i even talking about anymore.

[plutoslastwords]

I see lando as a single dad too and I was wondering if you’d ever write daughter!reader when she’s a teenager and is going through, well her first menstrual cycle and he’s so completely lost lol

shark week

lando norris x daughter!reader

summary: lando has no idea how a woman's body works, baby norris doesn't listen in health class. the outcome? chaos.

warnings: your first period?

w/c: 1.5k

a/n: okay so i know that it may be unrealistic that a 12 year old would have never heard of a period but idc. it works in the story. sorry for being so mia!! school is terrible atm 😩😩 love you all!! promise i am working on the requests xx

~~~

Going to high school in Monaco was not fun at the best of times.

Everyone says that surely it must be great! It’s Monaco! But when you don’t speak the language fluently - though you have got quite good after living there for 12 years of your life - and have just transferred to a new secondary school where you know no one, life isn’t great. 

Everyone in Monaco has one or two parents who are rich and famous in some way, meaning you can’t even pull the famous dad card to get yourself some friends. You’re stuck sitting alone at lunch, and being picked last for every team.

Lando hates it. He hates it so so much. He doesn't think he can stand seeing his baby coming home sad every afternoon, and he hates how sometimes he can’t be there to comfort you when life is feeling especially tough. He’s debated many a time just sending you to a boarding school back in England, where at least you could speak the same language as the kids there, but he doesn’t think he’d be able to cope with being apart from you for that much of the year.

Therefore, both you and your dad just have to cope with the unfortunate situations, hoping and wishing that soon enough you’ll find your own feet and make some friends. 

Back to the fact that school in Monaco isn’t great on the best days, school in Monaco is absolute hell on the worst days.

On this particular day, you were sitting in Maths class, your least favourite, how were you meant to be able to understand maths in French when you didn’t even understand it in English. It was whilst the teacher was going on about something to do with algebra that you decided that you’d had enough, you put your hand up and quickly asked to go to the bathroom, you weren’t bothered about this anymore.

You took your normal long route around school to get to the bathrooms, having no intention of going back to your maths class anytime soon. You finally get to the bathrooms and it is there that you learn that you’re going to die.

You know that it is not normal to have blood in your pants. It can’t be normal. You must be dying. You sit there in shock for a moment, before starting to hyperventilate and presume the worst. 

When looking back, Lando knows that it is probably his fault that you got yourself into this situation. You never really listened in your Health classes, as they were all in French, and so it was probably his responsibility to educate you on what was going to happen at a certain point, but he’s still just a young guy, that was not top of his list of what he wanted to talk to his preteen daughter about!

You sit in the bathroom stall sobbing and shaking, surely this is the end, you were practically waiting for the Grim Reaper himself to come and pluck you away. In your disorientated mind the only thing that you can think to do is call Lando.

“Daddy I’m dying!” You bawl into the phone, the words barely coming out through your intense sobs.

Immediately Lando drops everything he was doing, freezing at your distressed tone, his mind going straight to the worst. “Baby?!? What’s going on, are you okay?!?” He practically shouts down the phone.

“No!!” You sob, “I’m dying!!!! Daddy please pick me up I-” You don’t finish your sentence because enough intense sob comes in the way and you fall back into hysterically crying.

Lando doesn’t even think twice before leaping up from his desk and rushing to grab his car keys. “I’m on my way, my angel, you’re gonna be okay, daddy’s gonna look after you.” He tries to soothe, but the worry in his voice is evident. 

When he arrives you’re still a sobbing mess, but you have to drag your tear stained body out of the cubicle and to the front office in order to be dismissed. When you see Lando you immediately jump into his arms, sobs wracking your body.

“Oh darling…”  He says, brokenly, he hates seeing you like this, “What’s happened, my love?” 

You don’t respond, too distressed, he seems to get the message and manoeuvres you to the car, where he drives home as quick as he can, to get you someplace familiar, hoping that that will soothe you slightly.

It works, partially. By the time that you’re home your sobbing has lessened, but you’re still nowhere near stable, still almost shaking with the fear that you’re feeling. Lando sits you down on the sofa with a glass of water, putting an arm around your shoulders.

“Baby, tell me what’s going on.”

“I-I’m dying!! I’m bleeding and I’m dying!” You sniffle.

Suddenly everything clicks for Lando and then his mind goes completely blank. Shit, shit shit shit shit shit. He was not ready for this day, not ready whatsoever. 

“I-uhm-oh.” He stutters, not knowing what to say. “Y-you’re not dying, sweetheart, okay?”

“Yes I am!!! I’m dying!!!”

He has no idea what to do. He was hoping he had a year or two left before today came, but apparently luck was not on his side. He sits there, staring blankly at you, as you continue to cry. 

“Baby, I promise you you’re not dying, why don’t you go change your clothes and I’ll come up to your room in a sec and we’ll chat, okay?”

You shuffle to your room, still sobbing but if you’re dad seems so confident that you’re okay, then surely that means something…?

Lando paces around in a panic downstairs, waiting for his sister to answer the damn phone. There is no way that he can be doing this with no help.

After a horrible phone call, with a lot of him being laughed at by his sister for having a 12 year old daughter and still knowing fuck all about the menstrual cycle, he feels more prepared to actually talk to you.

You’re sitting in your bed, covered in blankets and watching a movie when he knocks at your door.

“Darling, can I come in?” 

You hum in response, tired from all of the sobbing and therefore not bothered to actually speak. He enters, with a shopping bag in his hand.

“How're you feeling, my angel?”

You shrug, curling up smaller in your blanket ball.

“Oh, baby, you’re okay, I promise, it’s all natural, okay?”

“Doesn’t feel natural…”

“It’s your period, angel. It’s your body getting ready for pregnancy”

You pull a face of absolute horror at that, “I’m pregnant?!??!”

His eyes widen and he backtracks immediately “No, no, no, no, you’re not pregnant, absolutely not.” He shudders at the thought, “It’s just so that maybe, at some point in the future, if you do get pregnant, your body is gonna be prepared…”

“So I’m gonna bleed until I get pregnant?”

“No, no, just for a couple days every month…”

“For how long?”

“Uhm, I’m not sure about that… like until your 40? I don’t know…”

“40?!??!?! I don’t want to bleed every month until I’m 40!!!!”

“I know, baby, but it’s just something that all women have to go through, it’s just a natural part of life, you’ll learn to cope with it…”

You pause, taking in his words, before eventually nodding in understanding, but that doesn’t mean that you’re done talking, much to Lando’s dismay, who’d quite like to get this conversation over and done with.

“So why do I need to bleed to be ready for pregnancy?” You question.

Lando knows this one, he practised it on the phone with his sister, “It’s the wall of your uterus shedding-”

“Ew.”

“Because your body got itself ready to be pregnant, and then obviously the egg was never fertilised.”

“So if I did get pregnant then I wouldn’t get my period?”

“Yes, I think.”

“Hm.”

“It’s all very normal, sweetheart, this just means that you’re healthy, okay?”

“Mhm…”

“Good..” He smiles, “You all good?”

“Daddy?”

“Yes, baby?”

“What am I gonna do now..? With, you know, uhm- I don’t wanna ruin all my underwear…”

“Oh! Yes, that..” He reaches into his bag, “So, uh- these will stick on top of your underwear, and like uh- catch the blood, I guess.. And then you throw them away after wearing them for like 5 hours or so… That sound okay?”

You nod, slightly sceptical, but oh well.

Eventually, Lando leaves to go and do his own thing, and you stew in the knowledge of your new life. After getting yourself showered and cleaned up, as well as trying your new items, you shuffle downstairs, just needing a hug.

“Hey, baby…” Your dad smiles, as he sits on the tv, watching some nonsense reality show.

You don’t reply, just nestling yourself next to him, needing his comforting touch. He smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

“My baby… getting so big… daddy loves you, more than anything…”

~~~

a/n: fank you for reading!!11 send in any requests xx

[heechwe]

not even sometimes | 𝐜𝐬

୨୧ pairing: choi san x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 5k ୨୧ genre: fluff, sprinkles of angst, smut ୨୧ tags: neighbor to lovers au, healthy communication for the win, switch!san, dirty talk, pet names, heavy petting, fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, squirting, creampie ୨୧ synopsis: You've never been good at planning for the unexpected, much less a new neighbor. But the man in question may just love that about you, among other things you didn't see in yourself to begin with. ⟢ AUTHOR'S NOTE: This fic is a remaster of an old fic I wrote years ago for a member of NCT, the original title being "Where We Begin." Seeing as I am not following that group anymore and I thought it'd be fun to polish up some old work, what the hell. Thank you to my betas for reading this one, @prkhaven @lovetaroandtaemin @tinycatharsis @jjunbug @innocygnet, I love you lots. Title inspiration from "Sometimes" by Ariana Grande!

Some people know the instant something begins, the start of something new brimming with possibilities palpable within the surrounding air. 

For you, it’s not that simple. 

It seems some things come and go in your life without warning or realization. You’ve fought enough for things to stay or leave for so many years that now it’s almost a godsend to lack that kind of perception. Whether it be for a new job opportunity, an unexpected act of kindness, or a person, it’s all the same. Beginnings can be as subtle as a wisp of wind through your window, or as abrasive as thunderclaps that rattle an entire room. Regardless, you’ve not caught on.

Lucky for you, Choi San isn’t subtle. With a body like his, how could he be?

The first time San greets you, he’s carrying an ottoman on his shoulder and a football in his hand. The early Saturday morning permeates through the hallway window, emphasizing his stark black hair and encroaching size, but he’s so beautifully smiling you felt nothing but warmth for the man in front of you. Across from your apartment sits his door halfway open, giving you ample opportunity to notice the manila moving boxes crowding the space of his new home.

The place had been empty for almost a month before San, the pain of Jeongin saying goodbye fresh every time you came home. The kid was a hilarious neighbor and a great friend, and while he didn’t leave your life, watching him go after three years left a noticeable pang of sadness. Having a new neighbor so soon felt foreign, unwelcome. But once San drops the ottoman carefully onto the small span of tile between your apartments and extends a hand, you know you can get used to the change if the new neighbor in question is this open, welcoming, and drop-dead gorgeous.

You give San your name with a smile, a soft yet large hand enveloping your smaller one. “You’ll love it here. I’ve been here for almost five years, never a problem.”

“That’s perfect. I’ve been couch-surfing for two months, so anything is better than my friends’ smelly socks and booty calls.”

You giggle, the sound reverberating off the highway walls. It almost makes you forget your choice of clothing, the realization suddenly hitting you.

You love your duck-patterned pajama bottoms and tattered college sweatshirt, but the clothing isn’t exactly the best outfit to meet new people in. Then again, nobody dresses up to run downstairs and get their weekly mail anyway, even if there’s a chance of running into someone as handsome as your new neighbor. “Sorry I’m not that presentable. I didn’t know you’d be coming today.”

“It’s no problem. I should’ve moved in yesterday, but I had an emergency. Well, if you could call a friend needing a three-page recipe an emergency.” San grins and shrugs, twirling the ball between his hands.

You giggle, pointing a finger towards the football. “So, you play sports and cook?”

“Not really, just a parting gift from my friend Woo for the recipe I owed him. I guess it’s also a housewarming gift‌, considering.”

You nod slowly and begin your trek down the hallway and to the mailroom, remembering your initial goal when you were leaving ten minutes ago. “Well, San, if you need help unpacking, just give me a knock!”

“I definitely will!” San waves goodbye and offers you the widest smile you’ve seen yet, saccharine in a way you didn’t realize you needed so early in the morning. He enters his new apartment without another turn of his head, while you wonder if this is the moment of realization the guy across the hall will be more than a stranger. Perhaps even a welcome addition to your life.

You open up your door a day later to find San with an inquisitive pout, replacing the mesmerizing smile he left you with. His hands respectively hold a large takeout bag and a tray of two drinks, and you guess what he’s after before he says the words. 

“Don’t tell me,” you say. “You need help unboxing.”

“Yes and no.”

“Oh?” You ask, partially shocked.

“So, I know you probably offered to help me unpack since I have the ‘new neighbor’ card. Which is great, since I actually do need help today. But, it would be rude to not offer food for your services, so it can be part moving part…treating a cute girl to lunch.” San tips the bag up with a grin, making you chuckle. “What do you say, neighbor?

As he waits for your answer, you discover Choi San is already too sweet to say no to. He asks so earnestly, and he’s feeding you, doing more than most of your exes ever did. The response easily slips off of your tongue. “That sounds great. Lemme just get my keys.” Following him into his apartment, you try to calm the staccato of your heart to a normal pace.

Your new neighbor truly has no shame as the two of you open all of his remaining boxes together, San confessing the origins of certain items you take out with a questioning, raised eyebrow. While he folds his clothes and sets them aside to move to his bedroom later, you tell him about your degree and how you can’t wait for the spring semester to end, your last step towards graduating in the summer.

You snap silly photos of him and take a few together to capture the moment; he ruffles your hair in a few and makes the resulting photos blurry, but you don’t mind. When you’re not unboxing and discussing your comprehensive histories, you eat pineapple fried rice and dumpling soup from the takeout containers and sip flat sodas you don’t bother replacing. The clear attachment you’ve already developed with San is worth drinking a watered-down soda.

“What do you do in your free time?” you ask before downing what’s left in your can.

“I work with my friends in a small studio downtown. It’s not much, but we love it and it helps pay for this.” He gestures to the apartment with dramatic grandeur, almost knocking over his drink. “That’s actually why I’ve been moving most of this by myself. Before you helped, I mean. There’s this production issue we glossed over, and my buddy Mingi wants it smoothed out before the song’s released.”

“Gotta love the  music life.” You sigh. “The arts are tough.”

“Yeah, I do love it. I don’t know where I’d be without it, to tell you the truth.” San chuckles, the sound rumbling in his throat.

You pat his shoulder with your hand. “I’m sure you’re doing great. You seem like a person who can find fun in anything. With your work, I know your friends need that.”

“Thanks,” he replies. San dips a hand through his hair, hoping to conceal his red face alongside his aggressively beating heart. “I bet you’re someone who keeps a lot of people calm and…I don’t know, grounded? You just give off this vibe like you know what you’re doing.”

You laugh again, pressing your empty soda can to your chest. “You’re probably the first person that’s ever thought about me that way.” Your friends and family often sing their praises for you, but what would get San’s compliment laughed out of any room is the fact he thinks you have a consciously prepared bone in your body.

You can barely give your best friends proper preparation for outfit choices, much less prepare for bigger life events. It’s what your exes have harped on for ages, your impulsiveness and second-nature to lead with your heart rather than your head, your ultimate downfall. How did anyone, especially yourself, expect you to go against habit and commit to anything? If there was an option to have someone spell it out for you, you would choose that in a heartbeat. To this day, sometimes it feels like you stumble around for answers, only doing things halfway and never with full intention.

You know these things about yourself like the back of your hand.. Yet, you can’t contain the flutter in your heart from San being so sure of you already. It may just be the takeout, the fullness of his stomach making his brain fuzzy, but you don’t care. You appreciate it regardless.

“That’s a good thing, though,” you mumble, his stare tickling the edges of your skin.

“Well, I’m flattered.” He winks at you, the gesture only solidifying every positive thought you have about him. He opens another box and removes the bubble wrap inside, and in that moment, you believe a piece of your heart silently belongs between the creases of his smile.

By the time you finish, the sun is setting, and you’re sitting next to San with your backs drooping against his couch. You rub your belly in slow, tiny circles, full from the food and copious amount of snacks you munched on while moving the smaller trinkets and furniture.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve known the pretzels and gummy worms would make you sick.” He pouts, staring down at your slumped body.

“No, it’s okay. Just another minute and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“You’re not in my hair. It’s too fantastic to be disturbed like that..” His confidence can be seen from space, you think as the corners of your lips rise. Without warning, San sets his head in your lap as his eyelashes flutter to a close. He’s burly at first glance, but you realize as he snuggles into your body how you fit together perfectly in this way. “I mean it. I’ve had a lot of fun today.”

Instinctively, you swipe one hand through his bangs, and he takes your fingers between his own. “We just met, but it’s like you make things slow down. I’m not running around the place like an idiot or saying the wrong things for the first time. Does that make sense?”

You close your eyes too, letting the words rumble around in your head. Responding to them with the peace within your smile and a squeeze of your hand, you know he’s smiling too without having to look down at him. “It does.”

In an array of textbooks, highlighters, and article clippings, San swipes through the words with a blue pen to mark important information for later. While it’s adorable watching him as he works, he has little to no foresight on the weekly topic in your Greek literature course.

Chan and Jisung, your study partners, left hours ago, but you stayed stuck with a pile of additional reading your professor dumped on you, including the play you still had to read. 

The night seemed to only be beginning for you, and you could only give your friends a sad smile as you walked them out of your apartment. With perfect timing, San popped his head out with a smirk, his concern giving way when he noticed the defeat in your posture.

“Can I help?” were the first words out of his mouth as you were on the verge of tears, your mountain of a neighbor suddenly becoming your shining light through the storm of academic writing and assignments.

He definitely isn’t helping in the way he imagined, but watching his eyebrows furrow in concentration and catching the delight on his face when he marks the “right” sentence makes the hours feel less tedious.

“I mean, why does Euripides have to be such a tragic writer? There’s nothing wrong with writing cheerful things now and then,” San says as he drops the pen onto the paper. Rolling closer to your spot on your bedroom floor, he pouts and puts his hands underneath his chin.

“Well, San, since he wrote tragic Greek plays, I think he was just creating what he knew. Like Sophocles, he just kept his daily life in mind when he was writing.” You smile to yourself, skimming the lines of the last act within your textbook.

“Excuse me, Smarty. I’ll just nap while you do your own notes, then.” He leans against your thigh, the back of his head mushed into the fabric of your shorts.

You scoff. “I just read the materials and introduction! You give me too much credit.”

One of his eyes pops open, followed by the crossing of his arms. “You still know things! Sometimes, you really don’t see that. And I’ve been your neighbor for what, a few weeks now? Give yourself more credit, angel.”

You refuse to acknowledge the pet name, knowing he’ll sense the change in your body if you do. Going for a lighthearted response, you stick your tongue out in his direction. “Trust me, you give enough credit to yourself for the both of us.”

San says your name and sits up, mirroring your crossed-legged position. “Maybe I do, but only because I know how it feels to not give yourself the self-assurance you deserve.”

You gape in mock surprise. “Choi San, not sure of himself? I never would have guessed.”

“Yes, I’m not flawless.” He laughs and knocks his fist softly into your shoulder. “When I was younger, sometimes people thought it was all an act, me being so ‘full’ of myself, all the time. In a way, it was just to pretend that there weren’t times when I didn’t feel confident in what I could do and if I could do it. It still happens, but not as much as before.”

“That’s hard to believe.” You drop your head, staring at your hands in your lap.

He taps his fingers under your chin. “It’s true. Some days, it can be so difficult to believe you’re capable. But you are, in so many ways. Anyone who loves you could see that tenfold. But in the end, the person who needs to see that first is you. Nobody else.”

You wipe away the tears that are  prepared to stream down your face, knowing it is ridiculous to cry at the comforting advice San offers. But he says all the right things every time you need them and every time you come across all the hidden fears and self-critiques you harbor.

“Are you crying,” he asks, lips curling into a frown. He presses a hand to your cheek, prepared to catch any tears before they fall, but you shake your head softly.

“I’m not sad, I promise. I just—I meant it. You give me more credit than I ever give myself, and I know it’s a bad habit, but it feels good having someone else notice…how hard it can be, even if I’m still trying.”

His thumb rubs back and forth across the apple of your cheek, sentiment and patience etched into expression. “Someone has to, don’t they?”

Staring into his eyes, you notice how much they shine, even in the dim lighting of your desk lamp. You chastise yourself for never noticing how brown and bright they were before. With a tiny vow, you promise to admire them for as long as you can, whether out loud or in silence. As long as San feels admired in the way he always should be.

The twinkle in his irises reflects in his close-lipped smile. You don’t stop to think as you lean in to kiss the sharp line of his cheek, knowing you need him as much as you need his words. He parts his mouth in shock, the hand on your cheek still. “Thank you, Sannie.”

When you rest your head on your pillow to sleep hours later, you still feel the shape of him on your lips and the fondness of his stare on your skin.

A knock on your door one Sunday afternoon reveals San with one of his hands cut up, a few scrapes visibly bleeding.

“Shit,” you curse, inspecting the cuts with your hands. He winces when you touch a deeper one, a hiss whistling through his teeth. “I’m sorry. What happened?”

“I dropped some glass cups. I didn’t know what happened to my broom, so I thought picking it up would be fine if I was careful,” he mumbles, obviously embarrassed about the mishap.

You press a hand to his shoulder as a signal for him to step inside your apartment. He does, observing the living room as you run to get supplies from your bathroom. The fuzzy, polka dot blanket draped across your even fuzzier, gray couch and the rerun of some 90s comedy makes him smile to himself. How can someone be so kind and cute? San thinks to himself.

You’ve both hung out many times since you helped him unpack, especially in your bedroom, but he’s never noticed the smaller things in your place. Seeing the ins and outs of your life in the decor, the few dishes in your sink, family photos by the door, and pens left on the counter, he doesn’t feel like he’s intruding. Rather, he’s noticing the pieces of you and storing them away to remember later. That’s how the ache inside his chest would describe it. For now, at least.

“I have band-aids, ointment, and gauze,” you note the supplies in your hand as you make it back to him. You’re no stranger to mishaps like accidental bruises and bumps, so coming as prepared as possible for this one facet of everyday life is doable, even for you. “Sit down, Sannie.”

When you guide both of you to the couch, you drape the blanket across his lap and pause the show on your television. You hold up the first-aid kit, grabbing his attention and smiling behind the box. “Ready to be patched up?”

“Readier than ready.”

The minutes pass quietly as San watches the rest of the episode, and you treat his smaller cuts with small circular band-aids. You wrap the deeper gashes up with pale gauze, rubbing some cream on the wounds to start the healing process. As you grab more of the ointment from the tin, you realize San being hurt in any capacity is painful, unbearable even, for you as well as him. While you have more than an inkling of what that means, you push it out of your mind to focus on your table-side healing.

When he’s patched up, you flick his wrist. “You’re good to go, sir.”

He grins in response. “You’re the best. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. That’s what neighbors are for right?” The word feels too simple to describe San and what he means to you.

“Definitely,” he murmurs. Your faces rest less than a foot apart from each other, knees slightly touching. 

In any instance, you’d have backed away quickly and given your new friend and neighbor a proper send-off back to his apartment. However, he’s so warm, inviting, here. It has to be ridiculous to feel so safe in his presence this soon, but San is the least ridiculous person you know. 

He can be vain, more confident in himself than the average person is, and satisfied with his own absurdity. Maybe those things turn some people off, but they’re only a few things that you adore about him, the exterior pieces to a beautiful interior. And adore you do, maybe too much and too fast in the month that you’ve known him. But if someone calls you senseless for that, then senseless is what you are.

When you kiss his lips, pressing your mouth firmly to his, you feel senseless. All of your feelings rotate around him, none of your own to pull from as you want nothing but him to spread inside of you. You keen when he groans into your mouth, press deeper into him as his hands clench your waist, and mewl as he pushes his song into your mouth.

“Your hand,” you call out as he tries pushing his injured fingers down your pants.

“Fuck my hand,” San says with a gasp, tugging at the material until your shorts come off. “Well, I want you to fuck it anyway.”

You whimper at his salacious words, grinding your hips down into his lap and awaiting hand. He lets out his own sounds of pleasure at the wetness pooling in your underwear, and he slips the material to the side to truly have your skin against his, the callous on his fingertips rubbing against your clit beautifully.

With your mouth falling open from the cascading waves of pleasure that have barely started, you feel you could float away if it weren’t for San’s index and middle finger suddenly buried inside of you. He whispers dirty things into your ear, your face fighting a blush despite the position you’re both in. “You’re gorgeous, you know that? So perfect for me when you’re fucked out like this.”

He adds a third finger, completely lost in your expression as you ride his hand with abandon. You continue to rut your body into him, and all he can focus on is both your pleasure and the growing erection in his pants. His body pulses with need, but he knows it’s not about him right now.

It’s about you, and he wants you to recognize how much your pleasure matters to him.

“San, I’m gonna—” You press both palms to either side of his neck, moving faster to chase the high that’s within your reach. The taste of it almost hits the center of your tongue, and you want to feel it after all this time you’ve been waiting. For him, for the two of you, for something good.

“It’s okay, don’t fight it.” He kisses your cheek, looking up at you with only adoration and patience in his eyes. “Let go, beautiful. Come with my fingers inside of you.”

Your back arches and your chest presses into San’s biceps when you finally feel your release in its full glory. Your body leaks your essence down his hand and onto your remaining clothes. You would feel like a mess in any other circumstance, but right now, you don’t care.

All you want to do is make San feel as good as he’s made you feel.

You kiss him twice more before pulling him into your bedroom. You push him onto your bed and make quick work of removing his clothes, unzipping his jeans until both that article of clothing and his underwear come off.

The head of his dick is red and leaking with pre-cum, and you fight the urge to take him into your mouth completely and finish the encounter off that way. You want to make it worth both of your whiles.

You stroke his cock a handful of times to moisten the surface, and he ruts into your hand with broken groans. “Please don’t tease me,” San begs, reaching his hands out to hold you by the hips.

“I’m not, Sannie, I promise. Just want to get you nice and ready first.” You may not be confident in a lot of arenas of your life, but you know you’re good at this, and you’re going to make a show of it.

You sink down onto San’s cock easily. Despite the stretch of his wide girth filling every space of you, you take it all with a slack jaw and a deep moan emulating from your chest. It’s been a minute since you’ve had someone of his size inside of you, but you adjust with a few minutes of doing nothing but sitting on top of him.

“Are you gonna—” You cut San’s words short by slamming down on him particularly hard, going from doing nothing to giving him everything in a matter of seconds. You press your nails into his chest as you ride him, your pace fast and unrelenting. He looks up at you through his lashes with lust-blown irises. His hands on your hips threaten to bruise your skin, and in truth, you wouldn’t mind if they did. You want him to mark you up, pin you down, make him yours. You’ve never been more sure of anything before.

Without warning, San switches positions, one large hand pinning you down as the other wraps your legs tighter around his waist. “No more playing. Hold on tight, doll.”

He sets a pace much harsher than yours, practically leaving you completely before slamming completely inside with every thrust. It’s deep in every sense of the word, and you bite into your fist to hold back how loud you’re becoming. 

San takes that fist into his palm, splaying out your fingers to interlace with his. “Let me hear all of it. Don’t fight it, baby.” He takes one of your breasts into his mouth, lavishing your nipple in gentle nips and kitten licks.

You decide all of your resounding sounds matter little to you, your other neighbors and their peaceful Sunday be damned. If he wants you to be loud, you’ll be as loud as possible, especially when his hand finds your clit to rub in perfect little figure eights.

Your vocal chords are tattered and uneven by the time your second orgasm comes, your body slack and throat hoarse from the overload of pleasure. You squeeze him tighter despite your oversensitive nerves, ready for him to fall off the same precipice you lept past with no issue.

San buries his face into your neck as he comes, his breath and beautiful groans hitting your ear as his release fills you with warmth. He kisses one of your temples as he pulls out, letting small remnants of the mixture of your releases trickle out of you and onto your bed. It all carries the same weight of importance, anyway. All that matters to you is his warm arms lulling you into comfort you’ve been without for longer than you realized.

The afternoon sky bleeds into night, and you spend all those hours in San’s arms, saying nothing yet everything in that span of time. He only rubs your back and kisses your lips every so often, letting you slip in and out of sleep.

Once you’ve been awake for longer than ten minutes, San breaks the silence by saying, “So, I’m not the best cook, but you deserve some sort of meal after all of this.” He kisses your neck before focusing his gaze back on you. “And I may or may not be collecting my repayment after helping you with those articles right now so you say yes.” He grins again, charming and electrifying. “What do you say?”

“We just had sex and you think I’ll say no to that?” you ask with a giggle. 

“I’m just making sure!”

You’ve never been observant. Some cues go past your head entirely, and you know this. But San’s skin, so comfortably close to yours, sends the gentlest calm across yours like the familiar prickles of gooseflesh. You can see him and read his obvious intentions, and you know now you’re ready to welcome the start of something new with open arms. There’s no right or wrong to fear, no choice to be any less certain about. It’s easy to feel that way when sure of him when he looks at you the way he does? “I’d love to have a meal with you, San.”

Two months pass, and as San’s hand draws circles into the divot of your hip, you remember that tender stillness you felt after you first met, the first time you hung out together in what San called “your first not-first date” which you lovingly shoved him for, the first night you spent together, and all the dates that followed. Most important, that stillness never disappeared or faded into the background. Not since the first time you saw him, not when he told you it was more than fine to leave most of your stuff at his place (especially your polka dot blanket), and not when he told you he loved you hours ago.

“What are you thinking about?” San pulls you from your thoughts with his question, his whisper raspy. He kisses your bare shoulder, the soft press of his lips warming you to the bone.

“You.”

“Oh? Only good things I hope.” He smirks, trailing his kisses up to your neck. “Or bad, I prefer both.” You giggle at the few swipes of his tongue on the hollow of your throat, but you tug on the ends of his hair to pull his attention back to your face.

“The best things. How I still get excited every time I see you, and how easy it is to make you smile. How you make me feel as though I can do anything, because I have all the power in the world to do it.” You stroke the corners of his mouth, pulling them up and down to make him laugh. “How much I love you.”

In his laughter, he wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you closer. Peppering his face with kisses, the two of you fall deeper inside the sheets, the only space in the world meant for the two of you. The smell of his cologne lingers on his body, your favorite smell. You breathe it in as he says, “I love you too.” He says the words in between more sets of kisses stamped into your face and neck.

The sunlight peeks in through San’s curtains when you retreat from underneath the comforter, the signal of a new day. Another set of beginnings and discoveries to look for, new realizations to be had. Only, this day is different. You no longer fear as you once did. If either you or San aren’t looking close enough, the other person will be there to help put the pieces together. Other days, you know you’re strong enough now to figure it all out on your own, just like San is. The two of you can be as slow or fast-paced as you want to, impulses or plans be damned. If that’s what love is supposed to be, you never want it to pass you by again.

@gyubakeries @loserlvrss @jjunberry@lovetaroandtaemin @xomakara @pars-ley @addictedtohobi @innocygnet @filmnings

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊: @kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @moadiarynet @pirateeznet @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @deoboyznet @violetanet @whipped-kpop-creators

𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫 𝑴𝒀 𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑲𝑺 𝒐𝒓 𝑱𝑶𝑰𝑵 𝑴𝒀 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑺 © 𝖠𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝖧𝖤𝖤𝖢𝖧𝖶𝖤; 𝖣𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖻𝗎𝗍𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍.

[ask-postcrash-curly]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0E4haJHYUJw

sorry can s.omeone please helpme please and quicker this time its worse sorry thankyou justneed it to stop fast please, i am quite afraid its fucking fireworks isnt even thesaem thing that happened to me,and itsnot real why does ithurt that s so pointless im sick of it im nevergoing to be able to be a person again if i have a panic ove r eveyrthing i nwant to go home soon now

pleasmake it turn off fast thank you love you help im scared

supposed to be strong this isso stupid hahaha. ow ow ow ow

cananyone haer me. pleas em ake it turn off cant do this one forso long its makingme panic every time oneofthem goes off haha it doesnt even soundthe same it was muchlouder when iitreally happened

what if the asteroid goes into a star a sun and idont die because im not allowed ever and i ahve to beo nfire forever!! that would be bad i don t want that . oh my god what the fuck am i talking about. maybe i shoudl just scream really loud and then jimmy will come and maybe he'll hit me hard enough to make itstop

no hah okay nope im not goingt o do that . thatss not a good plam at all! then iwould probably cry and he owudl hitme more!! cheers!!!!!!!! hahaha

are any of you there i want it to stop fast please. please can the time delay things not work this time idont want to wait that long .

nooo no it's fine i mean cmon the only reason that it took so long last time's because oft hhe dleays and then all the good videos came at once and it was good theyll . theyre not going to ignore me its okay that will not happen. oh god but i cant wait that long not again pleasecan you break the itme delya this time i dont want to i dont want to do this anymore

i migth start screming by accdint . i dont want to do that i t will make anya upset and jhimmy wuill be angyr and. i dont want him to be angry he might . be agnry. whyis eveyrone angyr with me all thetime i dont try to be frustrating i dont i reallydont . i dont want to be by myself anymore can you please. the rescueline disconnceted and no one can do anything to helpme please acn soemhone help me befroe i make it worse and scream haha oh mygod no i was wrong its the same its the same the sound is different but the way the colors burst across youreyelids when you shut themisthe same and tehn you cant shut them anymore and it hurts it hurts andeverything is white and then its red and youcant even scream youcant move and its just burnign and it takestoo long to pass out why did it take so long i felt evyrting it ev en when iw asnt awake i oculd feel it burnign

and i think i think he left me in there on purpose i think hewanted to make sure i coldnt get better i think he wanted to hurt me i htink he was angyr stilll about the firing an waht i sadi in the cockpit afterhis eval i think maybe thats why he hates me now i didnt i didnt know jimmy i wouldnthave said that if iknew why are you angry i wanted. to help why would you hurther jim she didnt do anytihng to you why would you why would you hurt her why would you hurt me wgy do you keep hurting me. idont ressist anymore so youdont have to push so hard dont have to reach sofar why do you . you want to hurt me yeah? you want to and itsnot because ofanything but you and me. jimmy anya soembdoy cann you make the fireworks go away for me please i will be better

please can aynoe hear me im sc ared im so scared i dont want to beon fire agian it hurt so much and wheni. woke up i couldnt stop screaming . i ocudnt stop im going tos cream aagain and hes going to hit me but nope he wont kill me he wont knock me out because i have to feel it i have to feel veyrthing all the time i cant even sleep!!! that woudl be too peaceful and i dont get to have it peaceful no no no!!!!!!! not allowed for curlly to hvave peaceful i have to be feleing all of it

i onyl had two days i only had two days iwanted to help but i was scared ishouldntmake excuses im sorry nevermind nevermind im sorry anyaimsory shoudnthave been you never you never anybody else i shoudlvedonesomething i shoudlve let us both die whenwe werekids ojgod no no i cantwant him todie hewas. my firned no no no he hurtssherbieng selfish why did i tell them why did i let her tell him why did i let him go in there why did i go in there

i wish it had killed me then it woudlnt stil hurt its been so so so so long forever humanbody isnt supposed to fele this way for so long icant do it anymore iwish they ddint all ahte me s omuch i dindt crash thesip i didnt do it i didnt i neverwouldve done it whyd theybleve you so easilyi am i thiat easy to, did anyoen ever likeme or did they all feel the same as you jimmy is that why. deado pixels everywehr theye all dead pixels and i ahve to bealive its not fair no no haha it is fair this is this is what happens when you dont do anythign now you dont get to!!!!!!cant fix anythuing no matere how muchyou want toooo

cant do anything ever and iut always hurts and shes aways crying andhe doesnt smile anymore and i dont seehim naymore hes drinnkinghismelf to death and none fo them aluagh they used to laugh i miss mmy parents i miss closing my eyes i miss when thinsgs were soft andpeople hugged me evenif it was just pretend and they didnt care i could believe it sometimes and it didnthurt

i wanna go home

i wnana go to sleep

im reallyscared that im going to scream soon not onpurpose

can anybody hear or amitalkingto nothing . can anyeone hear me? icanrt. see anything exceot, the

hah ha am i tlaking too much . i think i am . why would you give this to me. youknow it would hurt me . why does eveyrone liek to hurt me am i that awful or is it that fun . ah hahaha. it jus. it kepe s on going. ahahahaahaha. and anotheranotther anohter another another!!!! is htis because i c omplaiend about the fireare youmad at me because iwouldnt stop saying it overand over wouldnt shut up god it's so annoyign haha right thats it yeah? youask ove and over and nothing chagnes so you have to stop before you get hurt because therse a reaseono they dont listen and if you keep asking againanda again and again forever theyll make you pay.

im soryr ill. be quiet

youdont have to make it go away this time , i can. deal with itthis time until it ends if you dont do it agian. could we make that deal, is that all right can we

amibeing punished

i think i am

or maybe not . only persons get punished im not a perosn im a toy i think . thats it thats all it is anymore and hwen a toy breaks you break it moreandmoreandmore and thneyou throw itawya into the incinerator to burn forever yeah?

everyneos going to go away. whoeven cares right? got thier own lives. own worlds other worlds better worlds. better world where im gone!!! got real friends haha got reaaal families real sons. and the firworks keeo going and eveyrone goes away!!! boom boom boom thats anotehr oen gone. jsut me just me all by mysefl in th empty

oh no no no

no no nonoonnononononono im cryingnow i need to stop no ones in here and if he hears me he might

please imsorry if anyones still there please hlep i acnt stop hes going to hear me pleaseimscared

[yazthebookish]

This will be my last post on this blog until announcement day because I can't stand being around here anymore (not that I have been that active).

"You are supposed to stand in solidarity with us and be an ally! We are hurt and none of you are saying anything!!."

We actually have and the article has been changed. There's no point in dwelling on it if it's been removed, there's more serious shit happening in the real world thanks to the orange buffoon sitting in the Oval Office. You're the ones who continue talking about it. I'm someone who might never have the choice to have children due to my condition so I understand the implications of such statements but I also know that people make mistakes and we should give them an opportunity to change.

I have so much to say about the whole "stand with us in solidarity" thing but because of the radio silence from all of you whenever we were hurt and attacked and the fact that you even know the people who were doing this for all these years—speaking for myself but I do not owe you my voice or solidarity when you were the same side that hurt me and hurt my friends without holding anyone accountable while we made posts multiple times addressing that your side shouldn't get any sort of threats and shouldn't be targeted. When real women were attacked and were subject to misogynistic insults from your side either it was their age, appearances, or career, it was radio silence. So many Eluciens and Gwynriels had to take a break or leave the fandom because of you and the hurt you've caused. Even SJM gets called a hag.

I was dehumanized by your side to the point it became the norm to stalk and mock me. To talk sh*t publicly about me. To prop me up as a target for people to attack. To lie and make up rumors about me. To send me harmful messages and threats. To casually tell me to k*ll myself. For my entire life, I was never treated less of a human until I interacted with your side. Yes I get that you disagree with my posts and theories and that I've been argumentative in the past with some of you, but none of it justifies what I continue to be subjected to. But that's alright because the amazing support system I have makes up for it.

All the below is only proof and I've addressed it multiple times in the past yet I was only met with silence or that "I deserved it".

You expressed your outrage by humanizing a fictional character and feeling strongly about any statements made on her, but dehumanized a whole group of REAL people in order to justify any harm that comes to them. REAL women were attacked multiple times in this fandom but it was met with barely a whisper.

Is it fair for me to generalize? No. I have wonderful Elr*el mutuals who I absolutely adore and they give me faith that maybe it's only a few who are awful on your side.

This is all I wanted to say. Maybe some of you will mock me for addressing this and making myself out to be a "victim" but you know what? I am a victim. Not a helpless one but someone who was subjected to horrendous attacks that is often justified. I'm not addressing this expecting any of this to stop. No. But maybe some of you will realize silence shouldn't be selective. When you are selective about what to speak out on, then you'll understand why people are not standing with you when you need them to.

There isn't a single real human in this fandom I wish harm on. I don't have it in me. But the fact that people are selective about what's worth addressing and calling out and what's not will always leave me astounded.

[linksfunroadtrip]

Link's Fun Commentary - Prologue!

+ sailor design commentary. link's fun extra

Twilight Field, War of Eras...

Sailor starting in Hyrule Warriors and being dropped immediately into Shepherd's era is actually the second pitch for the beginning of the comic, the very First pitch being the first two pages of chapter 1.

More than anything we just wanted to get it done, but we didn't really know what we were doing . We cobbled together a custom font and got right to it. My Fun Facts: All the grass is the same image reused over and over except for when it isn't . Literally all of the smoke was just repeated/moved around. We didn't even really know how to use gradients effectively...

... Which can be seen in these next two panels. LOL.

The work split on this batch set a precedent for sure. @islandlobster took up lining and flat colors, and had the Hard Job of harmonizing our styles, processes, and experiments. Do you see a lot of small, long-form comics with grainy, textured line-art? Maybe no? Well we found out why.

These panels also feature the Only Two Triforces we remembered to draw !!! Oh My God!!!

As much as we struggled, things moved pretty quick from the get-go. Since the prologue is only a handful of pages we didn't really run into the issues we would with chapter 1, especially regarding our complete and utter lack of script. This went straight from thumbnailing to the final result!! (NOT A SUSTAINABLE WAY TO DO A GROUP PROJECT...!)

I wanted to mention though that when I wrote the line above, I wasn't sure if this was how you would spell it for like . a Soldier Troop or a Performance Troupe. Which I just looked up now and found out I Absolutely got them mixed up. so umm. Sorry. Sailor is not in the circus yet.

Cia was just defeated in the main campaign! I felt like such a smart cookie for this one.

She doesn't even know she wont be going home yet‼️ laughing and pointing ‼️

It was an Early idea that Sailor would conveniently miss the time portal transporting the field (with her in it!) back to its era. This was supposed to be a reoccurring bit, but we didn't commit to it too hard going forward, so who's to say if that'll be realized.

The pirate charm plays a big role in the prologue. A little funny because we were absolutely sick to death of drawing it by the end, as well as the fact that it is there in lieu of her red-gem necklace that we forgot to draw. it is Welcome and Unfortunate that it doesn't work anymore, especially because having the chance to name drop like this was very indulgent.

The era of twilight ! Including the locations and times was in the original sketches, but when we found out that our inexperience with backgrounds wasn't lending itself to establishing Where we were, it came in handy. We Agonized over placing the castle and argued* for like a week about how forested the area should be. Luckily we use noclip now, so things have improved as we've moved into chapter 2 :]

Either way, hopefully it wasn't too confusing, and as we introduce new characters the picture will be clearer. We've talked a little bit about returning to the prologue to spiff it up a bit, but we feel we aren't far enough into the comic to make it worthwhile.

and now over to Pea with the weather:

my name is pea islandlobster and you can't tell that it's me because we are writing on the same post but trust okay 🤞 I am here to talk about SAILOR!!!

Sailor has been my baby brainchild before LFRT was even a blip in our minds eye (my proof) and it has been a beautiful indulgence for me to both put her in AND have her be the first Link we meet. YAY!

I have two designs for her, for which I have helpfully made a diagram just for you..! Labeled and everything..!

A: pheww my big one that I have been sitting on forever. Sailor's necklace was constructed over the course of her adventure, initially only having her red gem (given to her by King Daphnes, from his own crown). Four pearls were later added, parting gifts from Oshus and the three spirits. Also intended to mirror the three Goddess pearls from Wind Waker..! and an extra yellow one i guess. triforce? idk

B: Sailor's chipped tooth is a funny one that I will have to make a small comic about at some point. It's not even anything from her adventure. A couple years before WW, Aryll was pretty upset about losing her first tooth, and in typical Link fashion she thought the best way of comforting her was to ALSO lose a tooth. Grandma was not happy.

C: Most Links have a triforce mark, and each one we are giving a reason towards ^.^ Sailor's mark is entirely scar tissue, specifically it is hypertrophic. She held her triforce for only a few days and got it (maybe quite literally) ripped from her by Ganondorf, so take that as you will. Tetra and her are matching yayyy..!

D: Giving her hero outfit it's own section so I can tuck it out of the way lol. A modified version of her original hero outfit, courtesy of shipmate Nudge (guy in the top left). She was a little upset over having to alter Grandma's hard work, but she preserved it where she could. Like her seashell belt! ^_^

E: SIDEBURNS! Not present in the prologue because it has been a recent development but I figured it was worth bringing up. During WoE, as she grows her hair, her sideburns resemble little lobster claws. Cute! In LFRT as grown out as it is, I thought making them swirly as a reference to pretty much every cloud/wind effect used in WW lol.

From a combination of outgrowing stuff and missing home, Sailor was christened with Lobster Shirt 2.0 as we know and love today. Who made it for her? I dunnooo..... let's sit and think about this one.

Phewww. This was a long one - and no doubt the next will be longer - but this is all for now! Feel free to send any questions you might have ^.^ Thank you for all the support! Chapter 2 part 2 soon!

[zuzuelectricbugaloo]

I don’t get why some fans of Yugo get mad or annoyed at him for disliking his own Sans. He’s been dealing with nonstop fans for years who only focus on the memes surrounding Epic!Sans. Yugo has even expressed regret over making his Sans just a walking meme in the past, and of course, that would take a toll on his mental state and how he feels about the character. When people say he should stop talking about it, they don’t seem to understand that others constantly bring it up to him. It’s his character, and he has every right to vent about it however he wants.

You’re absolutely right, Epic is Yugo’s character, and he has every right to do as he pleases in how he uses said character and feels about it. I don’t condone harassment, and am firmly against attacking a creator simply because you passionately dislike or like a character of theirs.

One of my qualms with Yugo about Epic is how they blamed all of their mistakes and “cringe” of Epictale as a whole and projected it onto Epic and claimed the character’s death and celebration of his end meant that Yugo was absolved of any discomforting behaviors or jokes.

When he still continues to do so, even with characters from Epictale he likes.

Silly and goofy memes, might not be everyone’s preferred taste but there’s nothing inherently wrong with that. Memes are supposed to be silly and fun.

But then Yugo having to be convinced by their fans not to do NSFW commissions involving minors?

No no sorry, that’s not fair. Of course anyone who is broke would be desperate, and they’re just fictional characters, right? Whats the harm? No way does fiction impact reality in anyway.

Doesn’t that reasoning sound familiar?

And anyway, Yugo rejected it in the end. Of course that should be ignored then and any criticism of it is unwarranted.

My mistake. It’s still not fair. At least with Epic dead and gone, Epictale is free from anymore cringe and problematic anime tropes!

Again, I don't mean this as an attack on you or Yugo. It's a criticism, and one where my overall point is that my biggest gripe with Yugo isn't that I love his character and he doesn't. It's that Yugo seemed to absolve himself of all his shortcomings by projecting them onto Epic and therefore is free from error or criticism now.

Disliking that Red/Lara and Mettaton are in love with Papyrus who is seventeen makes you a hater. SEVENTEEN. They are literally centuries of years old, even in the remake. I know in reality, the age of consent varies per state in the USA and especially varies depending on country, with minors able to be married in some with their parents or guardians' consent, but still. It's uncomfortable. It's unnecessary. Papyrus could be shipped with Lara and Mettaton as an adult, as he is in Undertale by the fandom and in other AUs. But now with the context that Lara and Mettaton knew Papyrus since he was a child, it's disconcerting to imagine romance with any of them. Look, it's understandable for a creator to feel a certain way about their work and how it's interpreted. Especially in what they choose to do with their creations, in revamping or remaking things, and how they feel about it and choose to get rid of some things entirely.

For the most part, I enjoy Epictale and have read his brief Neutral!Frisk storyline. Yugo is a talented artist, and I adore Epictale and the characters and the great potential they all have and what can be expanded on it.

The old Epictale bore the same errs as many AUs within the UTMV fandom in its early years. Fantastic AUs with amazing concepts often had something problematic about them and this was sadly normalized. From the past Cream comics portraying SA as romantic or silly, to PJ's Daycare and the like also joking about minors/adults, SA and r*pe, SH, etc. Or it could be problematic with Frans or Fontcest, either in canon within the AU or played around with as concept. Epictale wasn't worst of them, nor was it the outlier in one of its characters joking about or portraying these problematic things.

Here's a big one: Underlust. It's not a masterpiece, and like many AUs, has so much potential. Unfortunately, there's so much that detracted from it that a remake or dismissal of most of its canon is needed if you want to find any enjoyment from it at all.

Same thing with the past Cream comics. At that point, the blog itself caused too much for its creators and they deleted it and made it non-canon entirely. I don't know what happened to the UL creator, but I assume something similar happened.

Sorry, back to Lust. I was not active in the fandom in its early years, I only witnessed glimpses of it and when I wanted to get into something, like Cream, it upset me too much and I left the fandom. In particular with Underlust, it makes me so sad because I was introduced to him through fanon first, where someone had an SA experience and used Lust as an expression of what it was like to go through something like that in his line of work. And it felt cathartic. Comforting. A character who could understand how I felt, who was was unconventional in their self-expression and yet happy and at peace with who they are, would be able to heal and find happiness regardless of what happened to them. But then I found the parts of his canon with Fontcest. And it turned out Lust had nothing like his fanon and it hurt. I could no longer enjoy the AU and ignored it entirely from then on. But Lust, today, is still so dear to me because of what he could be.

Yugo wants to move on from the past and be a better person. I think that's a noble endeavor. Anyone can be a better person and change. That doesn't make it easy, and it certainly doesn't mean that everyone will try.

And for the most part, Yugo seemed to make progress. Epictale in and out of its comics doesn't make any more jokes about sexual harassment as far as I'm aware. There are no harmful slurs used in a joking manner. For the most part, it seems Yugo made good on their word and is trying to move on from his past mistakes. Many creators of UTMV's past seem to do something similar, and I wish them all peace and commend them for trying to move on and be better. However, when Yugo crucifies Epic as the source of all his problems, and uses him as the symbol for burying the past and amending his mistakes, only to then make similar ones (far less severe than the ones he used to do, admittedly, but still concerning nonetheless) instead of using Epic's potential to make him be as Epic as his namesake, it doesn't piss me off, at Yugo or his fans. Fans won't always focus on what a creator originally wanted them to focus on. That's simply the nature of fandom. And memes are one of the most popular enjoyments of fans and is the most unifying act among them. But there would also be fans who love things besides the memes, who will work to enjoy and create what they can gleam from canon and expand on it, in art or fiction, with other characters in the story. So long as fans don't attack the creator, harass them, insult or demand they do more with their preferred character(s), I don't see anything wrong with this. It sounds like a regular community to me. No. It just makes me sad. But as you pointed out, it's Yugo's character and his right to do as he pleases. So, respectfully, Yugo wishes to have nothing to do with Epic anymore; I am all too happy to love him along with the fandom. Because to truly move on from the past, you need to accept accountability. I know Epic used to have problematic characteristics, be it in the noncanon comics or art, but it was a part of his character. I acknowledge that. And I want to move on. Remove the parts of the past that are bad, and instead of ignoring it, use it as a reference of what not to do, as a reference to be better and do better. I want to build on his potential and love him. Because Epic makes me happy, and I know he makes others happy too. Why not heal and work together to create something everyone can enjoy?

[raayllum]

Lissa as Soren's Shadow Self

Intro

So sometime after S5 I talked about how most of the main cast had a 'shadow self' walking around—another character within the narrative that represents a bad end or dangerous/alternative path they could walk. Callum has Viren, for example, but also Finnegrin (both men are trapped in 5x08, both seek dark magic to free themselves from their perceived captors, albeit for different reasons, etc). Ezran was going to have Harrow's anger and the Orphan Queen; Rayla has Runaan's bow/duty as an assassin, and Kim'Dael, etc.

Someone who has already had a tragedy of some kind befall them versus their present day counterpart who will be twisted into repeating their choices while also, occasionally or ultimately, making better ones.

At the time, it felt like neither Soren nor Terry really had one. Claudia could suffice for both of them, to an extent; Claudia was very much repeating the cycle of use and dark magic and violence of "Viren to Claudia" to "Claudia to Terry and Sir Sparklepuff," with Terry fitting into the spot of who Claudia had been in the past: goofy, loving, non-corrupted. This is, admittedly, made more textual in S7, with Terry able to see the map whereas Claudia no longer can, contrasted parallels of the bird in 2x09 being not the first time Claudia uses someone (that'd be Callum in 2x02/2x03) but the first time she uses someone to get dark magic ingredients and earns her first white streak... vs the birds in 7x04 being what makes Terry realize he is being used, and one of the big things (symbolically) that represents and reinforces his decision to leave.

Soren also had parallels to his sister as a foil—both Viren's children, both manipulated by him, but Soren left whereas Claudia stayed—and to his father, as of arc 2. Both had their physical situations fixed without their input (Claudia healing Soren's paralysis and resurrecting Viren), leaving Claudia confused and frustrated when the situations emotionally changed them. Just as Soren had realized he was on the wrong side in arc 1, Viren was steadily learning that too, although it hadn't quite come to fruition yet.

Terry too, likewise, has very strong textual parallels to Lissa thanks to season 7. Like Lissa, he is used by his partner ("young Terrestrius has what we need" / "I needed her tears. Something so simple and easy") and leaves. In many ways, his dialogue with Claudia directly clarifies / invites insight onto Lissa's feelings ("Because you didn't trust me to make my own choice" -> "she shook her head. She said no"). Claudia most notably even frames their rationale the same way.

I think she had to leave for herself, to be happy somehow. (2x09) But he had to leave. For himself. (7x04)

Within the narrative and Soren's own family dynamic, however, Lissa being Soren's shadow self I think is still the primary usage of the device for each of them, even over Terry and Lissa.

And here's why.

The Semi Obvious

There's the obvious parallels, of course. Soren and Lissa are both blond; they both leave the family, and leave the family specifically with mind to the fact they no longer feel safe.

SOREN: I don't want to do this. (3x07)

This is different as to why Terry leaves. While all three leave to preserve a sense of identity, this motivation is only stated outright for Terry by himself ("[and if I stay] I'm not sure I can really be me anymore / but I love myself the way I am"). For Lissa it's implied, thanks to her parallel to Terry, and for Soren it's symbolic: leave, lest Viren change/turn him into a 'literal monster'. Terry too resists the idea of changing for the worst, but Lissa and Soren frame Viren (their shared 'changer,' whereas Terry has Claudia and Aaravos) in far more critical terms. Whereas Terry believes even after leaving that Claudia can be saved (is still 'good'), Lissa and Soren do not think the same.

SOREN: You've seen what's going on. You saw what Dad turned Kasef into [a monster]. What Dad turned into. (3x07) VIREN: She saw my face and she trembled. She said, "You've become a monster." [after the assault] And I knew she was right. (6x06) SOREN: That's a villain. My dad is a villain. [...] The only way to stop this is to look evil in the face and say no more. (3x08)

This turn from Viren, of course, causes all three to do the same thing: leave, even if that means leaving Claudia, but more on that in a second. First, I want to make a pit stop at what I call

Narrative Weight

Being alive and feeling things are two of the most complex things that can exist, with human existence being just a shit ton to conceptualize even just as individuals, nevermind when it comes to other people or strangers. Therefore, all stories have an aspect of condensation—condensing concepts or feelings into things we can conceptualize and understand within a fictional narrative in order to make it relatable or communicative. We go for personal details and personal relationships.

An example in TDP could be how while Janai and Amaya face a political clash of human-elf cultures in season 4, Rayla and Callum face an interpersonal one. Obviously there are going to be broader cultural differences than just mourning rites, but it's grounded in something familiar and often sacred; likewise, Callum and Rayla figuring out where they fall after that clash split apart their relationship takes centre stage in season four. Both of these couples are made up of individuals, but their relationships symbolize things—a fresh start for the Sunfire elves, the reconciliation of elves and humans and the continent.

Narrative weight.

And Soren carries Lissa's.

This is largely due to how closely interwoven the two become as we get the backstory in season 6. Lissa was violated by Viren in order to save Soren; after she left the family, Viren blamed Soren for it. In many ways, he likely felt like he'd traded her for his son, and found the balance lacking. And when tasked with Viren being presented with treating another family member as spell parts, even now with that family member's consent, he refuses.

Soren and his request/willingness provides Viren the chance to take the weight he placed on Soren over Lissa and her leaving off Soren's shoulders, narratively and symbolically. However, the two are linked not just through Viren, but also through Claudia.

First, a side note:

Inversion

The other big interesting psychological underpinning, I think, is that as of season 7 there's no way that Soren has finished processing his feelings about Viren, or Viren's apology/amends... yet he clearly believes now that his father did change and that they were effective, because illusion!Lissa repeats more than a few of them verbatim.

The choice to have illusion!Lissa's apology mirror Viren's is interesting to say the least, and a look into Soren's psyche at least partially. It shows that while some things from Viren did resonate enough for Soren to think they'd be effective with Claudia, and also possibly things Soren thinks his mother would never say otherwise.

Part of this is because, as stated, Lissa and Soren are inversions of each other. The inversion of one offering consent but being refused vs not offering and being violated. There are also smaller parallels, such as Viren routinely going after Soren's intelligence versus the one descriptor he has of his wife.

SOREN: Dad is so smart, so I figured there must be a good reason. (2x07) SOREN: Wait, I know I'm not the smartest, but I know what you said. (3x03)

Inverted parallels of staying and leaving. Of Soren being angry at his mother (and Terry) for doing—in some ways—exactly what he did to Claudia. Making her choose, and leaving her when she won't.

With that in mind, let's round back to Claudia, and how she links Soren and Lissa to one another.

Claudia

Season seven in some ways hammers home both Lissa as a representative for saving her children's relationship, and why it fell apart in the first place. Let's talk about the second facet first.

For example, one of the crucial things that Soren learned and internalized from Lissa is that Claudia doesn't make her choices.

CLAUDIA: And Soren chose Dad. How could I choose? How could I do that? Then my mom looked at my dad and she told me to stay.

This is why Soren has to wrestle with new aspects of his dynamic with Claudia in season 7 in such a difficult way. In prior seasons, he and Viren could both blame Viren for Claudia's actions and choices, and did so.

SOREN: Dad is dead, Claudia. You don't have to do what he wants anymore. (4x07) VIREN: I know I have set my sweet, brilliant daughter down the wrong path. I have led you by the hand and I have led you by my example. (6x01) VIREN: I have watched Claudia walk down such a dark path, Soren. And I set her on it. I am to blame. (6x05) SOREN: Put down the staff, Claudia. Dad's staff. (7x06)

This is why after Claudia asserts her own agency and choices ("Okay. Follow me" / "No, [the staff] is mine now") that Soren doubles down on his previous sentiments: "If you won't stop, then I will stop you" (4x07) to "we have to stop her" (7x08). It's taken a long time, but he's unlearned the idea his mother passed down, and can see Claudia is culpable and responsible for her choices — even if that strips away the defenses he still had up in regards to being unwilling to hurt her.

However, Lissa still represents / carries the narrative hope of the siblings reconciling for two clear reasons. One is the shot below, which is about as on the nose as you could possibly get.

The other is because of the contrast the broyals provide in 7x09 that also harkens back to 2x09 directly:

CALLUM: I said I hated you, and would hate you forever. And Mom said it was okay to be angry, but that I couldn't let the bad feelings stick. Because we were going to need each other. Because we're brothers. I still need you, Ezran.

CLAUDIA: And [Mom] told me to stay. She said that I had to stay with Soren, that this was my home, and that my brother and I needed each other.

Lissa is also an important tenet for Soren, because in order to confront and deal with his lingering anger towards her for abandoning them, he has to also come to terms with his own feelings and recognize Claudia's about him abandoning her. Once they work through that, they can work their way back to other from the brink, because their mother was right. They need each other, and they always will.

Because Lissa is Soren's shadow self, and in some ways, Soren is his mother and sister's light.

[alchemiclee]

do you ever feel like some people dont understand the difference between pity and sympathy/empathy? (people don't even know the difference between those two, to be fair) giving someone sympathy or having empathy for them is not the same as pitying them. someone trying to reach out and seeking or expecting sympathy from you or wanting empathy isn't wanting you to pity them!!!!!! dont mix the two up 😭

[dkettchen]

she would've told them unlike her canon! version who decided not to be an ally smh

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

questioning sexuality is so exhausting

[mermaidsirennikita]

People are ridiculously entitled and it’s genuinely so disheartening. Books are someone’s ART. You don’t just get to alter a name in someone else’s creative work. (I’m appalled people out there think this is remotely acceptable - writers are not court jesters nor do they exist to please everyone - no human being nor their creative work does, in fact!) Thanks for putting your various responses out there! Here’s hoping people learn to respect and appreciate artists and creators once again

Quoth Nora Roberts:

I am not here to be a slave to certain reader’s wants, needs, whims. Again, I write what I write, and these are MY characters, in my books. Not yours. They are yours to enjoy or not, but they belong to me, they come from me...

You don’t have to agree, but I’m not writing for your particular point of view. Again, I’ve explained my reasons for this. I won’t do so again. My characters, my books, my decision. If you want something else, read something else.

And yes, I said that, too. Blast away, it changes nothing. I am not obliged to meet an individual’s demands.

So.

First off:

If you're really super chill about the idea of being able to change what writers write just because you didn't like a detail you think is small and irrelevant, I would sincerely encourage you to read La Nora's full thoughts on similar issues... and yeah, I'm gonna equate something as "small" as a name with what Nora's talking about here. Because it is ALL the author's domain. I've never personally subscribed to the idea that a work "isn't yours anymore" once it's out in the world. The way people interpret and interact with it isn't yours, sure. But it's still your creation, and you should be the only person with control over the content.

... and sometimes, I, as a reader, don't like what authors do with their content. I get it. I don't like that Lisa Kleypas edited her work years after publishing it, because I'm big on the "own what you wrote originally even if it's uncomfy" train... (for the most part--editing the fetishization of Cam and Kev would've made sense to me). And I don't think there's anything wrong with readers pointing out problematic shit in a writer's work, offering critique in an open forum, as Smart Bitches, Trashy books did when reading Hello, Stranger, which I speculate may have prompted some of Lisa's edits.

But! I can't say that it would ever be my right as a reader to, say, use future technology to tell my reading device "edit out the times Cam says shit that reads super fetishized". It's just kind of repellent to me to imagine rewriting someone's work in any way without their permission. Fuck, I don't even like the idea of estates releasing sequels or revised versions of books unless the author indicated that such was in their wishes in their will. (See: the TWO official Gone with the Wind sequels/prequels/whatever authorized by Margaret Mitchell's estate.)

We, as readers, have our lanes. The writers have theirs. And sometimes, as writers, they do tiny things or BIG things in their lanes that we dislike. (I love Tiffany Reisz's Original Sinners series, for the most part. I really, REALLY hate the most recent book in the series. HATE. IT. But the only thing I can do about that shit is just pretend that book never happened, which I actually can fairly efficiently because I do in fact control what my brain does. Or, seek out books that give me what that series didn't with that most recent book. Sierra Simone's do a bangin' job.) But you know... Not only do I not think it is safe for me to merge into their lane... I don't want writers to feel like they have to submit to demand and give away pieces of their work in order to keep selling.

(And honestly? For the vast majority, I don't think it would make enough of a difference anyway--writers are often sold bills of goods with new strategies or tech. "This will change the way you sell books". Most writers won't ever be able to write full time anyway, and I find the way that this fantasy that you'll be able to do otherwise with THIS TECH optimizing your writing time, or THIS SUBSCRIPTION increasing the eyeballs that will see your book... Scammy. Not all of it's bad! But the selling strategy that you'll make more money... If you're selling on KU, if five extra people buy your book you're still making pennies, so it's gotta be more than one thing that converges to create the sale, and a lot of that, I gotta say, is word of mouth and people just LIKING YOUR SHIT. And I'd argue that they're more likely to like your shit if you're invested as a writer.)

Second:

No need to thank me! I honestly think that the majority of readers do appreciate what writers do (or don't feel either way about it and just read like people have always read lol) but I don't know. I can't really tell what it is--the sort of "fandom" that's been created around books (and like, author fan clubs and such have always existed, but obviously the accessibility is so different), new tech developing very rapidly when for centuries books were relatively stagnant technologically speaking, the fanficification of EVERY type of media it feels like... But the sense of entitlement that certain readers feel does seem to have grown. Or maybe it's simply become more visible. I mean, Nora Roberts has from the dawn of her writing career taken off had fans that can communicate with her, and I'm sure many have written letters like "Go give these characters a baby :(".

My biggest thing is always going to be this: some books ain't gonna be for you. There are books that sound so Caroline. I read them, and for whatever reason--writing style, one character choice, something ephemeral I can't name--they aren't. Everyone else loves these books. I'd love to love these books. I'd love to discuss these books. I'm not in the party. And that's FINE. Not every party is going to be a party I'm down for! One of my best friends loooooves Tessa Bailey and Tessa-like contemporaries. Tessa, by and large, doesn't work for me. So my friend and I can't discuss a lot of books in depth. Do I wish historicals worked for her so that I could nerd out with her? Sure! But I can't make something that doesn't work for her work for her, and I can't make Tessa's books work for me.

And I know that people will be like "it's just a name bitch", but... it's a slippery slope to me, just like ALL of AI and AI-related tech has been a slippery slope. Like, y'all said AI wasn't gonna be a big deal and would just make things easier, and people are now selling AI-written books under their names. Everyone said that authors would have control over how AI interacted with their books, and books are being scraped for AI on the daily.

I do not want anyone to have final control over what is and isn't in a book but the person who wrote the book. I do not want writers to feel like they need to cede any amount of control over the copy in that book over to readers in order to succeed.

And I honestly think it would be a lot healthier for everyone involved if we as readers (viewers, general audiences) just accepted that we don't get everything we want, and creatives are not here to dance to our tune. They are people, and they want to tell the stories they want to tell. Your power? Is in your dollar. If you don't like that shit, don't buy it. If you don't want to support it... don't! Fuck, if you want to talk shit on the internet about how the most recent book in the series was absolutely not for you, that's your right, too.

I don't want you fucking with a single word on the page, though. Feel free to go write your own shit--prosper! But that part of what Nora said that rings true to me most is "they come from me". These books come from writers. You have them because of those writers. So, I don't know, dude. Just take what's there, and if you dislike it, spit it out and move on to the thing you will like. Authors aren't churn factories to produce what you want, and ROMANCE as a genre, however commercial it is and however much it does have that One Rule that defines it as a genre... Is still something that writers should be allowed to experiment with. That's the work writers put in. The work readers put in? Finding shit that works for us. And I'm telling you... With a little practice, it ain't hard. How do y'all think I have all these books to recommend? Lmao

[jakeperalta]

I never really got it when people would talk about getting the ick but alas. now I do

[sidesteppostinghours]

guys i made a mistake.

[ourladyoftheflytrap]

I'll be fine as long as I never have a moment alone to think about anything

[pinolitas]

there is no more entry level roles in existence and I only have entry level experience so I'm not yet qualified for mid level roles I'm going to KILLL