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antlersarchives · 2 days ago

Text

𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞

one-shot

bo chow x reader

summary - wandering on alone in the deep of the Mississippi Delta wasn't a favoured thing, but nor was it an uncommon one. some carefree few would end up along that track from time to time, and their consequence? the last path they'd find themselves walking down in the dead of night with enough living breath to carry them. those damn creatures of the night..

requested by: anonymous 💗

warnings; smut, 18+, vampirism, canon-typical violence, mild gore/violence, bloodplay, stalking, southern gothic erotica, biting, restraint, oral sex (r!receiving), pinv, worship kink, dirty talking, soulmates and soul tied, finding a mate, consensual, 1930s southern history, second person pov.

a/n: based on the song 'scared to live' by the weeknd because when I was thinking of this fic, this is what came up and I thought it was gorgeous,, also thank you to the many peeps who reached out and asked for this!! and yes I added the line between Stack and Mary because DAMN. i hope you enjoy, it might need some tweaks, but requests and comments are welcome and please let me know what you think!

w/c: 5.6k

It was unusual walking around this late at night. Especially alone; at least that’s what you’d been told.

Deep down in the heart and heat of the Mississippi Delta, right beside the marshes and desolate land, there was a calmness in the stillness of the earth, everything full of life and promise, only the devil creeping around the corner to take back what was his. And that’s what you clung to, no matter how much your mama would tell you otherwise, that the dangers out there are too much to cope with, or how the children back in your schoolhouse days would spread rumor; you always found yourself right back here.

Alone.

The night was especially still tonight, the darkness closing in tighter than usual under a cloudless sky. The only light came from a couple of flickering lanterns outside a dim Juke Joint, guiding your path as you walked.

On the porch of the joint, two old-timey musicians sat pouring their hearts into the music they created, without a care in the world, frozen in time, they could forget the industrialisation of the world around them. One man played a harmonica, his weathered hands cradling it with care. The soulful, fuzzy notes wrapped around you, a comforting urge to keep moving forward despite the shadows surrounding you.

Your feet seemed to carry you effortlessly through the opening of the wood, drawing deeper in as you looked behind you one last time, swaying with each step as the music faded into the distance. Heading to the only home you knew without a destination - your own company.

A few twigs crunched beneath your feet as you walked, and the odd branch creeping up on you, the left of you the bayou laid still, untouched - and to your right, the final twinkle of streetlights, was the edge of town, just before they turned off completely. Now, you’d never seen anyone else cross this path; by this point you’d think you owned it simply because you seemed the only one daring or reckless enough to walk it on your own- and you had heard both from just about anyone.

But this time was different.

All kinds of things were catching your eyes, something not ordinary. Snakes, alligators, even the nearest flock of herons that waded over the water, standing as tall as a small child. But that wasn’t it, it wasn’t innocence that followed you, and there was enough life and nature around you to tell you that, whatever it was, it wasn’t living.

Your mind stopped wandering at rustling that came from a bush behind you and you turned on your heel, the soil beneath you shifting with a sigh, and the rustling stopped. You halted, squinting your eyes at all around you, from the floor to the tops of the trees - nothing.

A pair of wings fluttered out before you could blink, hurtling toward you in one swift motion and you backed up into a tree beside you, gasping. You winced at the roughness, rubbing at the start of what would soon be a bruise. Taking a deep breath, you straightened yourself and kept on moving, cursing yourself for even being startled in the first place. It was nothing but a little house finch - your grandfathers old illustration books could have told you that, and you took your life studying this place, your home, this wasn’t anything to be worried about.

However your gut told a different story. You slowed, taking note of a blossom tree, the shadows of purple flowers, you traced the lines of the stems, putting your focus on that instead of-

“Shit-“ A voice rang out from the darkness ahead of you, out of sight, and you brushed the leaves out of your hand, swatting the branch away, crouching a little beside them. A figure stumbled out from the bushes, a man, dusting off his shoulders and catching his fall he stood up straight on the side of the path. He looked around for a moment mumbling something to himself, wiping something from around his mouth - you couldn’t quite make it out but whatever is was was dark, thick.

The breeze picked up and rustled the whole wood, and your eyes trailed him, not moving for a second. He was somewhat tall, with a dark head of hair - well kept and presentably dressed for this time of night. A pair of lined trousers and a white shirt, suspenders keeping his back straight is about what you could make out. A stranger, no doubt, but the voice.. the voice you recognised. His head snapped up and your stomach turned, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on where you’d heard it before.

The heat was unbearable.

And that was saying something for someone who grew up around here. Your arms felt like they were about to give out from the weight of the grocery bags, and you could swear the soles of your feet were nearly burned away in those flimsy old shoes. The street buzzed with life, cars and people rushing in every direction, while music spilled out from corners on nearly every block, making your head spin. You could feel your body start to sag a bit under the strain, so you set one of the bags down on the ground. With all this running around and the pressure to get home quickly, you leaned against the wall to steady yourself.

The only thing that pulled you from your daze was an arm wrapping around you, gripping your waist like a cool washcloth— supporting you. You looked up to meet the gaze of one of the local shop owners. You scrunched your face, trying to see him more clearly, only to focus on his warm and friendly smile.

“Hey, I had to catch you before you fell there, darlin'. Is everything okay?” He let out a nervous chuckle as he propped you up against the wall, gently taking the bag from your other hand and setting it down next to the first. Your ears were ringing, and dizziness washed over you,. You hadn’t realised how hard you’d been pushing yourself until it became almost impossible to move. His hand cupped your cheek, and he looked deeply into your eyes, as if he’d have been searching for signs of life.

He nodded to himself and looked up and down the street before standing upright.” How ’bout we go a little ways away down this street? I’ve got a store down there; I own it.” Pointing in the direction you were already headed, he clicked his fingers at a worker loading up a truck and waved them over to pick up your bags. Gently grabbing your hands, he placed them around his neck.

Bo paused for a moment, a smile spreading across his face as he watched you ready yourself. You twirled onto your side, and he slipped his arm back around your waist, guiding you a few steps and into the shop. He encouraged you the way there, playfully teasing you about being out in the heat and pushing yourself too hard. As you made your way into the store, he leaned you against the counter for support. Before you could voice any objections, his hands found the backs of your thighs, lifting you onto the counter with effortless ease and drawing his hands away.

You settled back with a huff, grateful for the brief respite. And as you took in the store, he had disappeared, returning just as fast with a glass of water in hand.

“Something to take the edge off, huh?” He offered, his voice a soothing balm, as he extended his hand toward you. You weakly accepted it, your fingers enveloping the glass. “Thank you,” you croaked out, your voice hoarse like gravel. He looked astounded, his eyes widening as he shuffled away from where he stood, placing his hands at his sides.

“Agh, she speaks; how are you feeling, Sweetpea?” The playful smirk on his face lingered as he watched your lips gently graze the rim of the glass. Your eyes fluttered closed in a moment of solace, and you raised your thumb in a silent saying of “okay,” feeling the chill of the cold water hit your mouth.

He slanted his side against the counter, his hips swaying slightly as he observed you, watching how your brows knitted together in concentration as you drank, and you could feel his eyes on you.

At that moment, a sense of longing washed over him, his eye lingering on you in a way he hadn’t meant to. He found himself thinking all those things he shouldn’t—how your lips curved into that bright smile, the static shock as your fingers brushed against his, and how your skirt senselessly bunched around your knees. His breath caught in his throat, placing his empty hand on the counter beside you, enclosing you at a distance.

You lazily pulled your hand back and shifted in your seat, meeting his longing look. You noticed the sweat beading on his hairline, trickling down his cheek just etching at his lip and how his mouth parted as he licked his lips, almost panting from the outside , before setting the glass down. Tilting your head slightly, you tried to read the familiar face, hoping by some miracle you'd remember an answer, a name, anything - but you'd only seen him a couple of times, watching lowly from the street. And before you could ask,

“It’s Bo, Bo Chow.” He paused for a moment, breathless. “But most folks around here just stick with Bo.” The smile he offered was like a daydream, a shared one, as he nodded his head, clasping his hands together.

It was him.

You drew a breath sharply. The brush from the leaves threatening to whip you in the face with the wind as you remained at eye-level with it but your crouched feet failed you. What felt like a distant memory was only just a few weeks ago, and it flooded back fast, the soles of your feet still burned and they gave way, but the ground beneath you shifted, you pulled at the earth and when the roots from broke, you fell backward, leaving a snap at your wake. You gasped as the hard mud hit your back, bunching your hand to make a fist to push at it.

Footsteps approached hurriedly and a presence peered from over you, familiar hands reached out for you, leaving no distance in sight, the moonlight lit up part of his face giving all your questions the truth you needed.

“Bo..” You wheezed out loud, grabbing at his arm as he towed you forward, letting you sit up. You felt this before, his touch, but now there was a grip that felt unnatural, it burned with his touch, your limb could have practically gone limp, and yet he barely moved a muscle.

“Woah there, careful baby.” You stood up and he stepped back a bit giving you some space, laughing as you both realised one another, you sighed of relief of seeing his face, something so unlikely here, in the dead of night.

Now it threw you off no doubt, but it was Bo, the shopkeeper down the street who took his own time to help you, the one you looked out for every day, a couple run ins without an acquaintance could tell you he was a gentleman, and many knew that, even you.The store had been shut down for while and he practically had wiped off the face of the Earth. After the incident you heard about in the papers about the Juke Joint everyone kept their heads down, keeping to themselves, apart from those whispers. Like the ones you’d heard since you were young, but now they were prime, the riddle on everyones tongue like a sermon, like some part the new gospel.

However, after that one day, you couldn’t help but think of him, the way he stopped to help you, to pull you close, the way he eyed the structure of your body like it was the holy grail itself. Leaving you to question, what would have happened if you’d have stayed? Maybe you hit your head that day, or perhaps it was the heat messing with you, but that didn’t change the heat you felt inside of you every time you thought about it, an aching, an uncontrolled urge with the way he rested against you, his hand near creeping up toward your thigh. And the way he looked at you now, breaking the silence, didn’t help your distress,

“I dropped my lantern around here some place, give me a second sweetheart.”

He snickered, kicking the dirt around his feet to find the lamp, and you stop there rocking on your heel unit he found it, picking it up and bringing it to the both of you. His eyes lulled at you, checking in as he pulled a matchbox from his pocket, reaching inside for one of them. He slid the box open and flicked one of the matches into his mouth, pausing to close the compartment. You could still make out the shading of his face, watching the way he moved, and the match in his mouth as he swiped it with his tongue, wrapping it tightly around so it wouldn’t fall. His gaze remained on you in the stillness, and as the tip guided along the top of his tongue, his eyes flashed starved with want.

It created a glow, lighting the woods and your faces up orange, he crouched to pick up the lantern beside his feet, sealing the glow inside its glass case.

“You could’a frightened me there.” You laughed off, trying to give some kind of lightness to what had just happened, spurring on conversation.

He held it close in his hands, enough to keep track of you and take a look around for any others, if there even was. “I didn’t mean to scare you darlin, probably shouldn’t have been wandering out here this late as it is myself, but thought I’d take a walk, it’s been one hell of a day.” You quirked an eyebrow now being able to focus on his face, eyes drawing to the corner of his dimples. His smile didn’t falter once, staying at the flat of his mouth, only gracing his face lightly, and beyond his surprise he seemed please. Pleased to see you.

“Yeah I could have guessed.” You wiped your fingers at the corner of your mouth, gesturing to his own. He looked pretty beat up, just without the bruises, or without injury of any kind, but the thick strands of blood that pooled from his mouth proved otherwise.

His face contorted into some sort of shock at your look and he pinched at the drying substance, wiping it into his pants without as much as a look. The look he gave went blank for a moment, like he wanted to say something but refrained, like he was fighting something on the inside.

“So why’re you out here this late?” He took a little step forward, stepping downward from the small, raised embankment he was on before, now at almost level with you, he hung the lantern in-between you both. You didn’t move, rather stilled in your step as he wandered over to you, his eyes squinting a little. “I usually come out here, on my own, it’s rare you see anyone down here past sundown.” You wondered why, why out here, and now. Everything seemed to go silent, enough to hear a pin drop, only that light breeze shaking up your skirts, and tousled his hair just enough to shag in his face, it was calm, gentle even, just like before - but Bo, he seemed out of place, shifting back and forth where he stood, yet confident still. More eager than before.

Like he was trying to make some sort of move.

You continued to ramble and he smirked, “I haven’t seen you or the shop open around here in a while, are you sure you’re alright? There’s been a lot happening in town while you’ve been gone.”

“You noticed I been gone?” He shot back suddenly, the only thing registering, his lip curling a bit.

“Well, you guys own a much needed store in this town, it would be missed if it were to go untouched.” He took another step forward, watching you stumble over your words seemed rewarding. All this time he’d been around, seen you, wanting to do something, it’s not like he was scared to do it, and to tell the truth he didn’t really understand his infatuation at first. He’d seen you walk the streets, crossing by his shop window whenever you’d head into town, the times you’d visit and leave just as fast, cheeks blushing pink when you’d see him. And that’s what stayed with him. Things weren’t all that it seemed behind those four walls, his life felt withdrawn of colour, everything was weight. But you, oh you were light, some beautiful sign, something he chased for, something he was determined to make his. And with his life now, he knew what that meant.

“You know what I mean. “ You feigned confidence in your words, now in reality that a truth, but in honesty, you knew it was more than that; much more.

He took another step forward, this time as you took one back, your heel clicked with the root of a tree, giving a thud as you braced both of your arms behind you, pushing you up as much as you could, feeling the rough bark at your finger tips. “You miss me?” His nature shifted, and his head tilted with it, swaying the lantern as he walked, a few steps distance between you both. The light flickered, so much so the shape of his face seemed to contort.

And his eyes, they glossed over an iridescent white, glinting specks of red and orange, something that you hadn’t seen before. Something that wasn’t human.

But you blinked and they were gone.

They were normal, a darker brown suited them, staring at you knowingly. “You could say that.” Your breath shook, but not out of fear, no, but instead the way he drew near, closer and closer. He flashed you a smile as you tried to think of the right words, but now his teeth.

Another blink.

And the once rounded molars were sharp and jagged, more like an animal, something made for tearing into flesh. And you felt your stomach drop and an ache that pooled downward, one you couldn’t control.

He staggered, dropping his head forward to look at the ground before looking up to you again. He rested his arm on the piece of tree behind your head, getting quieter, though his voice rang in your ears, ”Saw the way you looked at me back at the store, and I should have said somethin’.”

“Bo, that was just-“ He took the final step between you, leaving the lantern at your feet, his finger came up to your mouth shushing you, knowing where you were going with what you said next, seemingly before you did. His eyes still had a distinct gentile in them, the same as the one you knew before, even beyond his new form. And no words had to be uttered to tell you what that was.

The truth you both knew. The limited glint from the light reflected from his eye to yours, and you could see your face in the shine.

“You're telling me that was nothin’, that you didn’t think of about it,” A serious expression on his face, his brows furrowed, he brushed his fingers down against your side, drawing a line against the curve of your waist, “Not even once?” His face flashed with a sense of pride, and the way his pupils dilated was proof of what knew to be true. Your hips jolted forward at the feather light touch and he brought his hand down to cup your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze.

“Bo..” Your face grew red, so red someone would think you’d be laying in that beating sun all day long.

“Y/N.. Tell me.”

Inches away from your face he pressed against you, slanting closer, his voice a staggered whisper, and his lips damp.

“Ever since you saw me last..” You looked down at them, seeing drool at the edges of them and you chuckled a little. He sucked in a keen breath as you scraped yourself against the tree, gaining balance, bringing your finger up to wipe at it.

“Hey, you’re droolin’”

“You want some?” Your head shot up at his quip, bangs of his hair falling into your face, your noses touching. You smiled through your flushed expression, the wetness gathered on your finger and he leaned to kiss as it lightly, drawing his tongue at the remnants. Bo moved his face closer so that your hand laid on his cheek, nuzzling his nose up against your own, he pressed himself against you rocking his hips.

Without an answer, you tugged his face towards yours, closing the gap between you, gasping into his mouth at the friction he was causing. His tongue pushed into your mouth with passion, lips locking with yours as he slotted his knee between you, cupping your sex against his pants, leaving no resistance with the sensation, and you pushed down with a whine.

“God baby..” He licked at your mouth, biting at your top lip fiercely, and he dragged down kissing at your jaw, leaving soft chaste, open mouthed marks toward your neck. His lips felt familiar, so much so they tugged at you, on your heart, so much it almost hurt.

“Please..” You whimpered as Bo’s teeth bared at your neck, along your jugular long enough to feel your heart rumble beneath the canines, feel it even. He sucked in a breath, planting a hard, marking kiss before continuing down. His hands manoeuvred down your shirt, pushing through the soft fabric, bracing his fingers over your breasts and pulling away at the buttons, undoing them one by one by one. And he placed himself on the ground kneeling in front of you.

The tangerine tones scattered across your body like a reckoning, and he grasped with the sight of it, not knowing whether to sit and study or ruin you completely. His head rested against your lower stomach, almost begging you, his hands teasing up the backs of your legs, gripping you where you stood. Your mouth hung open, shivering at his motions. You watched, entranced, as he effortlessly lifted the hem of your skirts, pushing the fabric higher until it rested above your hips. With deliberate slowness, he tugged at the corners of your panties, peeling them down around your ankles. The cool air exposed your cunt, sending another wave of shivers through you as he began tracing the length of your thigh up and down with his tongue.

Your hips jolted forward, and he wasted no time in aimlessly yanking at your hips, his hands scooping up at the flesh of your ass holding you up just enough to reach your centre. Bo grunted as his mouth reached you, pulling you back and forth onto his tongue as he sucked on your clit, the tips of his fingers digging in as you brought your hand to his hair.

The black strands now turning into a disheveled mess in your grasp, there being no reservations at all about his drool slicking down the sides of his mouth as he was moaning into your cunt, fucking his tongue into you, fingers continuing to dig into your hips. He gets lost in the way your breath hitches, the way you say his name - over and over again without abandon, and oh how he’s been waiting, wanting to hear that.

“That’s it pretty girl, I’ve got you.” He groans as your taste coats his tongue, thick with your sweet slick, the height of his newfound senses alerting with each and every movement, and he swears that its the best thing he’s tasted, beyond the blood. He plunged deeper and you could do nothing but follow with a string of moans. You fell apart against him, arching your back into his face as you guided him impossibly close, your head falling back against the wood behind you. All of this time, imagining, yearning and here you were now without a care in the world hissing at every touch he gave, every ounce of pleasure he was willing to give.

His motions didn’t relent, mouth warming against you as his he flicked his tongue in figures of eight, only pausing to suck harshly, and it was too much.

Over and.

Over.

You came undone, a white hot strike vibrating through you and your legs trembled, clenching around him with a cry, “Baby..”.

That was enough for him and he nudged upward, cupping your one leg up to his hip and you circled it around his middle shamelessly.

The thick humidity enveloped you as you panted, heart racing, when he finally came face to face with you once more. A wicked grin spread across his lips, his fangs catching the dim light. You shuddered, but it wasn’t fear that coursed through you; it was the anticipation of what was about to happen.

He leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, delicate kiss, and you instinctively squeezed your eyes shut. You were standing before a darkness, a malevolence you had been warned about for years—an evil you were all too familiar with, yet never imagined you could draw so close to but your whole being knew.

“I don’t know if I can stop myself.” He breathed out, all restraint he took against himself, resting his head falling against your shoulder, still kissing at the curve of your neck. But you already felt it, with your body pressed against his, you hissed at the motion of his dick pressing through his pants. You reached down to the hem of his shirt, fingers trembling as you pulled it up, revealing the taut muscles of his abdomen. The heat radiated from his skin, mingling with the dew around you, the atmosphere made your heart race.

You could feel the tension building, the unspoken desires hanging in the air, thick and intoxicating you into a compulsion.

“I shouldn’t do this,” you whispered, though the conviction behind your words was faltering. Part of you wanted to push him away, to run from the danger he represented, yet another part—a part you couldn’t ignore—yearned to lean into the darkness he offered.

His lips ghosted over your collarbone, sending shivers down your spine. “But you want to,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze, those dark eyes glinting with mischief and hunger. “You’ve felt it too, haven’t you darlin’? The pull between us?”

You inhaled sharply, the air thick with the scent of rain-soaked earth and his intoxicating presence.

“Yes,” you admitted, a soft breath escaping your lips. “But it’s reckless. You could hurt me.”

His grin widened, a blend of danger and allure. “And I could do much more than that.” With a swift, fluid motion, he captured your wrist and pulled you closer, bodies flush against each other, the space between you ablaze with possibility. "But what if I promised to keep you safe?"

You hesitated, heart racing as your mind raced with the implications. Could you trust him? Your instincts screamed caution, yet your body betrayed you, yearning for his touch, for the thrill of the unknown.

As he leaned in again, brushing his lips just above yours, the world around you faded into insignificance. In this moment, it was just the two of you, teetering on the edge of danger and desire “Then show me,” you dared. “Show me what you can do.”

He hesitated for just a moment, as if weighing the gravity of your words, before his eyes darkened with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck, sending a rush of excitement coursing through you.

The moment his fangs pierced your skin, a sharp gasp escaped your lips and he bucked his hips forward. It was a mixture of pain and a wave of pleasure that stole your breath away. You felt a jolt of energy surge through you as he fed, the warmth of his body pressing against yours, igniting a fire deep in your core - your leg tightened around him.

He caressed your thigh, keeping you pinned between him and the tree and the other grabbing at what he could of your waist as he drank from you, his mouth moving with a sensuous rhythm that sent a heat radiating through your body. Mindlessly your fingers wrapped around his buckle, undoing the chipped metal with a clink that hardly met either one of your ears but he felt it. Your head slacked against the top of his, grabbing at his hips he groaned, and your wetness covered a patch against his clothed cock.

You could feel your heartbeat thrumming in your ears, each pulse syncing with the deep, primal need that blossomed between you, feeling the same dizziness you felt weeks before, this time only stronger. His hands, his mouth, while mostly solid, feel tingly, cold in a way that's akin to walking through fog. His breath is warm as it huffs against your neck, a delicious push and pull of sensation.

With a low growl, he pulled back from your neck slightly, his eyes glinting crimson, a reflection of the warmth of your blood glistened on his lips, a stark reminder of the line you had crossed. “You’re somethin’ honey, let me take care of that for you,” he breathed, his voice low and husk.

The pulse in your neck rippling with every beat of your heart as he rested his forehead against your own, darting his tongue out to kiss you again, giving you the taste of your own blood, now yours, now his.

Bo leered at you and you all you could muster was a dumb smile back. He undid the rest of what you started, eyes watching you and you only as he pulled his dick from his pants. Long, and thick, and leaking, he cursed to himself at the aching and moaned, kissing your cheek. The stretch ignited an intense burn and your hands travelled down his back, tugging at the tight muscle, feeling the weight of everything he put against you.

He leaned you all the way against him to where you were nearly laying as though on a bed yet still angled as though lounging on upright against the tree. The new angle pushed his cock to the sweetest pull, pushing against your plush walls and letting a gasp escape you in turn. Bo smoothed the sides of your body while your feet turned under you and you let your body rest on him. He ran over your breasts slowly through the opening of your lace shirt. Nipples long and pebbled, he squeezed the flesh and brought them up before releasing them again. Bo brought his head to rest beside yours as he thrusted into you once more, blood curdling at your cheek from his mouth.

The wound at your neck stung, with every delicious snap of his hips it jerked your bodies, a solidified reminder now every time he pounded into you. Each snap hitting perfectly deep as his hands cradled you and his words filled your mind with him.

“You’re my girl.” He declared before you could even conjure up the thought. “Say it darlin’.” He continued guiding his hand at your leg, hoisting you as he brought is finger to your clit, rubbing the sensitive bud, as his end neared.

“I’m yours.” You whined, bringing your finger to ghost atop his own as it circled your clit. The familiar heat in your core began to bubble like the markings of a burning fuse. You turned your head to his and kissed him deeply at the thought, rubbing your clit furiously with the help of his hand and relishing the way his cock completed your body.

“You’ll be mine.” Bo reaffirmed as his words caught every second his hips threatened to stutter at his release. “You’ll be mine forever ain’t that right.”

You could have sworn you saw the waves of Heaven wash over you as the eruption of your orgasm shakes you to the core. The blinding shades of his orbs stuck on you leaving you heaving for breath. Left thoughtless and wordless of promises that carry on with the shaking of your thighs and soft whispers of an ‘always’ from his lips. Bo stilled as he released, head slacking and mouth hanging open he moaned, his hips stuttered into you and the threads of his cum began to leak beyond where he filled you.

He released his hand from your own and rubbed your arms soothingly as you laid heavy against him, bracing you against the tree, his hand smoothing over your shoulders as to be careful. Sweat stuck to you as your hair frizzed out of place, the last droplets of blood dribbled out down your neck and he caught it with his finger.

You let out a hiss at the sensation but pouted, he readjusted your skirts, letting his forehead rest against yours once more, closing his eyes as your head knocked into his own and he grinned lightly. And you regained what was left of your breath as your vision faltered, only able to see his face in the dim glow.

“Now you will be.”

And a promise or a guarantee, who could know? But he intended to keep both.

#sinners x reader #sinners 2025 #sinners movie #bo chow x reader #bo chow #yao #sinners #bo chow fic #its finally here #come get your good good

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nugwon · 1 day ago

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daddy issues ── ( 심재윤 )

synopsis — jake works too much, but he loves harder. ── smut (m.), requested ( @riqomi ). dilf!jake x babysitter afab!reader. wc : 2.03k !

warnings — jake’s a few years older, (25). pet names: baby. unprotected sex (don’t be a fool, cover your tool) p.i.v. sex / pwp also. jake’s between the soft and rough dom area, y/n is down bad for her boss, jake’s a consent king, jake as a 3 year old toddler (s/n - son name), breeding (jake’s pull out game : weak.. pussy too good.)

two weeks ago… “s/n has already had a bath, a nice dinner, and his uniform for school tomorrow is out, hanging on his closet door. mr. shim.” you hummed, you’ve been babysitting for jake for a few months now. he was a few years older than you, a perfect mix of sweetness and tenderness. he was a tired hard working man, he had a minimum wage job—working in a corporate office, as an agent. “thank you, y/n seriously i don’t know what i would do without you.

and you? a college dropout who needed extra money until you found a job—but with the way jake pays you… you don’t need another one. “there are leftovers on the counter for you mr. shim, you’ve seemed to have had a long day. it’s my grandma's recipe, you’ll love it.” you assure him, he smiled. thanking you once again before placing your weeks worth of money in your hands.

you should have about five hundred dollars sitting in your palms right now. more than you’d usually give, but jake always threw a little extra on top. “do you think you’ll be available next week?” jake asked, hair messy and voice raspy from a long day of: “thank you for calling lee enterprises how can i help?” — “i was hoping so, we could do your monthly feedback and a dinner.. maybe? i still have to work but.. yeah.”

“are you asking me on a date mr. shim?” you were taken a bit aback, not rejecting it but not clearly understanding it either. did he want the dinner with just you and him or you him and friends.. “i thought we’d keep this a little professional.. yeah?” as he was still your boss you don’t think dinner is smart… not yet. “i’ll be available to work though… just text me dates. goodnight.” you smiled, walking away—now you just rejected a man on a date. and hopefully, his heart was bigger than his ego.

over the next few weeks, jake made it his mission to have at least a 10 minute long conversation with him every night. learning you, understanding your personality and your humor. what makes you sad, happy and what gives you the ick. he was feeling you, and he’s not sure how. or why.

“hear me out,” he walks into his kitchen. “we could take s/n to a baseball game? i’m inviting you because my friends are busy with their partners or working.. and s/n likes you y/n.” — “i’ll have to think about it mr. shim.” you chuckled while taking a drink of your water.

“jake is my name. you can call me jake. mr. shim is for when we’re working… and you’re not working.” hear made you laugh a bit—he was funny. flirty and you indeed felt something towards him. you’d finally started staying late, sometimes he’d bring takeout and you’d eat it together. brushing knees accidentally when sitting with each other. jake’s eyes always lingered. he could be staring at you, your lips. you nose… shamelessly your chest, thighs… ass. he was in love with your ass.

one night, he asks you to stay for dinner. real dinner. he cooks, a little clumsy but endearing, and you help, bumping shoulders and exchanging soft glances. also taking a few drinks… glasses of wine. a/n was upstairs sleeping, and your job was done. at first, you hesitated, drinking with your boss? but now. he made you feel comfortable like you were at home.

and now, today you’d decided to stay, longer than you ever had. it was around two in the morning and you and jake were up all night having conversations. he was so easy to talk to… you found yourself curled up on the couch, looking over and laughing at him as he talked about the most embarrassing thing to happen to him. “okay. it’s not that funny. i did think it was going to eat me..” he frowns playfully. “what about you? the most embarrassing thing you’ve done or had done to you.”

you were a bit tipsy, sipping on the wine jake poured for you an hour previous. “well.” you laughed nervously, not sure if you should spill it. “i have daddy issues, and every guy i’ve ever met has noticed that about me. it’s embarrassing because i always get left in the end… i kissed a guy once and he said i kissed like ive been hurt too many times… HUMBLED ME.” you covered your face, laughing now because it’s funny but back then—broke you .

jake only laughs a little, setting his own glass down. “i don’t see daddy issues, i see that you’re trying though.” he admits, “how about i kiss you, and let me see if i can taste it on your lips.” as much as you wanted to believe he was joking, he was not. you only looked at him, head tilting in disbelief. “do you think that’s appropriate, mr. shim?”

“i thought you clocked out of babysitter duties, five hours ago? i’m not your boss right now, i’m a friend. a friend willing to help you learn the truth.” he nodded his head. you don’t know why that was so attractive, how he looked at you—how he protected you but was assertive with his attitude. he was honest… and we can all admit that he’s a handsome.. attractive man. who just so happens to be a father. an active father figure, it was so hot to you.

“okay. you have a point,” you say your drink down, moving closer to jake—practically crawling to him. you looked at his lips before looking into his eyes. jake placed his hands on your waist, pulling you to sit in his lap. right where he wanted you. it was unspoken—the attraction you both had to each other.

your lips finally touched. warm and synced almost instantly—like you were made to be right here. it was soft at first, then it got more intense. showing signs you both wanted each other. jake mutters against your lips. “you can tell me when to stop you know.” oh but you didn’t want to stop, and neither did he.

jake’s hands slide down to your thighs, gripping hard enough to leave marks, pulling you closer until you’re straddling him fully. he groans into your mouth when you roll your hips against him, slow and teasing, feeling how hard he already is through his sweats. “fuck, y/n.” he mutters, voice wrecked, dragging his mouth down your neck. “been thinking about this all year.. every time i see you… you’re driving me fucking crazy.”

you whimper when he nips at your skin, grinding down harder, your hands fumbling to push his shirt up. you need to feel him — all of him — need to get as close as you possibly can. he picks up on that, taking his shirt off before taking yours and tossing it away. “beautiful.” he looked at your chest, kissing and sucking at your skin. leaving only a few marks.

you couldn’t believe what you were doing, how this could affect the both of you in the long run. “look at me,” he whispered, kissing up your neck and then your lips again. you hadn’t told him to stop, even if you did tell him—you didn’t want to. looking at him, it’s like he put a spell on you. your whole body relaxing under his touch. you hadn’t even realized he’d laid you down.

“can i take your clothes off?” he asked softly next to your ear, settling himself between your legs. once you agreed, he wasted no time stripping you down. kissing over your skin with lust. “fuck you look so good…” he murmured. stripping himself next, moving his hand down to rub your core—feeling how you were already dripping wet and the sweet sounds embedding itself into his brain. “excited?”

you shut your eyes in minor embarrassment, biting your lips as his finger worked its way around your clit. slow and sensual feelings shooting through your clit up to your chest. jake slipped a finger inside, then another. “so wet, warm. you smell good… it’s like you're reeling me in.” he chuckled, leaning over your body and brushing his tip along your slit. “ready?”

“ready,” you said against his lips. without wasting any more time, jake slid into you—his own eyes squeezing shut. he’d been working so much he forgot what pussy felt like. “holy shit—.” you were so tight, maybe too tight for him. he had to work his way through it. there was no way he was passing up another night alone with you.

your soft moans helped him through it, grabbing ahold of his shoulders. it took him a minute but he thrusted—in and out of you. slowly at first, making sure he felt how deep your velvet walls were. how stretched he’d gotten you. he was huge, and you could feel him everywhere.. it was quickly becoming an addiction. “fuck.. right there.” you moaned.

he kissed you, deeply. like he was done playing nice. hands sliding up your sides and holding you down to the couch. keeping you exactly where he wanted you. the shift in his energy… the tension rebuilding in the air. he was ready to break. “you made it so hard to keep my hands to myself.” he sits up, holding your legs in place while rutting deeper into you.

“always sitting there looking so good.. no matter what you wore. i always had to rub one out after you left.” he admits, his moans slipping through his words. “your body screamed at me to touch it.. take it. and sitting here. so easy. that just let me know that you wanted it as bad as i did baby.”

the way he was talking, the way your cunt squelched with each thrust. it was driving him insane—he was so focused on it. on the sound—making you feel good and praying for the best outcome of it all. “look at you, falling apart beneath me..” was it even possible for him to get even harder? you felt it.. all of it. “fuck i’m so close..” you moaned, his free hand coming up to your neck, squeezing it and applying pressure.

your tummy did a thing, like butterflies. you wanted it, you needed it. “fuck.. fuck me harder.” you covered your mouth, holding back as you started to get louder. but jake uncovered it, “let it out. let me hear you fall apart, tell me how good it feels. nobody can fuck you the way i do.” jake’s words were ripping you apart. into pieces, “that’s it..”

your moans slipped, uncontrollably. you wish you could put into words how good it felt but he was rocking your world. it was too much, too good and your whimpers from the contact. told him he was doing an amazing job. he pulled out, earning a whine from you before slamming back into you. “so fucking desperate to cum..” he was mesmerized by you.

everything he was doing, words couldn’t form in your mouth. only sounds and squeaks. even your eyes were rolling back—he moved his hands. watching how you rolled your hips up, matching his pace. “don’t stop, please.. please don’t stop.” you ran your hands down his chest. loving every second of it. “even your beg is so pretty.”

“you’re gonna cum like this baby?” you nod, ready to release it whenever he was ready for you too. it was his world, you were enamored in it. his breath got shaky, thrust getting sloppier—louder. harder. “then let’s cum together.” his voice was dark, low—almost dangerous. your legs were shaking, you couldn’t hold it, clenching around him—uncontrollably.

and then he growls, deep and rough, lips brushing yours as he says, “then do it. come for me. now.” and you do—hard, trembling, a mess in his hands as the pleasure crashes over you like a wave too big to fight. he holds you through it, grounding you, watching you unravel with a smug, look. jake spilled himself into you, practically claiming you as his. he was possessive over you already, and he couldn’t let anyone else have you. ever again.

taglist ; @yoursjaeyun

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maskedbyghost · 19 hours ago

Note

Okay but I think it would be so fun for the roles to be flipped for once. A man flirts with out possessive reader and simon absolutely loses it. Tells her she belongs to him, maybe leaves a big ole lovebite on her neck. Ugh I need him

Alright, this one’s for all of you who wanted Simon to be just as possessive as the reader. I didn’t hold back here, did I? Hope this hits the spot! Let me know your thoughts in the comments, ly byee!

You were just going through the aisles, minding your own business, when it happened. You barely noticed at first, just some guy hanging around, trying to offer you help with a box of cereal. You smiled politely, not thinking much of it, but when you glanced over at Simon to tell him something, you saw his jaw tighten, his grip on the cart getting a little too hard. He didn’t say anything, but you knew that look. You’d seen it before, but never directed at you.

You didn’t really care when the guy leaned a little too close, standing too near you while you picked out what you needed. You knew Simon was behind you, just a few steps away, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was watching, his eyes boring into the back of your head. The guy didn’t know it, but he was already in the danger zone.

The worst part? The guy was talking to you like he owned the place. Smiling too much, leaning into your space, trying to keep the conversation going like you were the one who wanted it. You saw Simon shift, his eyes narrowing, and you didn’t need to be looking directly at him to know that his patience was running out.

When you caught his eye again, he didn’t look mad, not exactly. He looked… frustrated. Frustrated in a way that you didn’t quite understand, at least not yet. You hadn’t ever been on the receiving end of Simon’s jealousy before, but you were starting to get it now. He didn’t want to share you, not even a little, and it made him uncomfortable in a way you hadn’t expected.

Before you could say anything, Simon was there. He didn’t make a scene, didn’t grab the guy by the collar or push him away. He didn’t even address him directly. All he did was slide his hand around your waist, pulling you just a little closer, just enough for the guy to see the way Simon looked at you, possessive and silent, his presence like a barrier.

But the guy didn’t get it. He tried to keep talking to you, but Simon wasn’t having it. Not once did he raise his voice; not once did he look at the guy. He simply turned his head and said one word, flat and cold: “Mine.”

You weren’t even sure if the guy heard him or not, but you saw his expression falter, a little unsure now. He stepped back, hands raised like he was trying to say ‘hey, no harm done,’ but the damage had already been done in Simon’s mind. That was the first time you realized just how much Simon hated the idea of anyone even thinking they had the right to get too close to you.

As the guy walked away, Simon didn’t let go of you. He just kept you right there, close enough that you could feel the heat of his body against yours. His voice was low, just for you, but you heard every word. “Don’t know why I have to share you with the world,” he muttered, almost to himself, like he was angry at the universe itself. “They get the privilege of seeing you, but they won’t ever touch what’s mine.”

The words made you pause for a second, something heavy settling in your chest. “You’re not mad at me,” you said, almost a question. You were used to being the one who got possessive, who got territorial, but now… it was Simon. And it was different.

“No,” he muttered, his voice low, but there was no mistaking the possessiveness behind it. “I’m not pissed at you.” He sounded almost… conflicted, like he was trying to get across something without making it seem like a big deal, but his anger was still there, simmering. “It’s just… I fucking hate the way everyone else gets to see you. I hate that I can’t keep you all to myself.”

Your heart raced, a little thrill running through you at the thought of Simon—normally so in control—suddenly feeling like he had to fight for you. You liked it. You liked that he couldn’t hide it, that this was the first time you’d ever seen Simon struggle with the fact that other people even noticed you. You could feel it in the way he kept you close, his hand tight around your waist, like he didn’t want to let go.

He wasn’t done, though. His voice came again, this time with a rough edge to it. “Every time someone thinks they can get too close to you, it just makes me want to remind them that you’re mine. And when I see you talking to someone like that…” He trailed off, his lips curling into a snarl. “I fucking lose it.”

You were too busy soaking it all in to answer at first, too caught up in the way his words made you feel. You weren’t used to him like this, so out of control, and you had to admit that part of you thrived on it. You were always the one getting possessive, but now, for the first time, it was his turn.

The tension between you both was thick, so thick you almost didn’t notice when he started pulling you toward the exit. You only realized what was happening when you were outside, the cool air biting at your skin, and Simon was already pushing you up against the side of the building, eyes wild with that possessive hunger you’d seen a hundred times before.

“Simon,” you breathed, but he wasn’t listening. He was too busy claiming you, lips crashing into yours, hands rough on your neck. He pulled you close, body pressed tight against yours, and you could feel all the anger in his kiss.

He didn’t stop kissing you and didn’t stop his hands from roaming your body. He was marking you, claiming you in a way that sent shivers down your spine. When he pulled back just enough to drag his teeth across your neck, you bit back a gasp, and that’s when he spoke again, voice low and dangerous.

“You think anyone else could ever have you like I do?” His voice was rough, filled with jealousy, but there was a dark satisfaction in it, too. He kissed you again, rougher this time, like he was trying to erase every trace of anyone else from your skin. “You’re not theirs to want. You’re mine in ways no one will ever understand.”

The words struck something deep inside of you. You could feel the weight of them, the truth in them, and your chest tightened as he pulled you even closer, his body pressing hard against yours.

His hands roamed down your body again, finding that spot where your skin seemed to burn just for him. "No one will ever touch you the way I do. No one will ever make you feel like this. They can’t. They won’t."

You let out a shaky breath, your hands tightening in his hoodie as your body pressed against his even harder. "Simon, you—"

He cut you off with another deep kiss, his lips fierce and demanding. “You’re not just mine,” he murmured against your mouth, his breath ragged, “You belong to me. In every way that matters. And no one will ever be allowed to take that from me.”

His grip on you tightened, his hand sliding to the back of your neck, forcing your face upwards to meet his gaze. “Every time someone thinks they can just walk up to you, I’m going to remind them,” he snarled, his voice a dark promise. “You’re mine. And I’ll make damn sure no one gets the chance to look at you, touch you, or speak to you like that again. They’ll all learn the hard way that you don’t belong to anyone but me.”

Your heart raced, blood rushing in your ears. This wasn’t just possessiveness anymore—it was something deeper, darker. And for the first time, you felt the intensity of Simon’s own jealousy, something you hadn’t fully experienced before.

“Simon,” you whispered, trying to catch your breath, “I’m yours, you don’t have to—”

“No,” he growled, cutting you off, “I don’t have to do anything. But I will. And every single person who dares think they can come close to you will be reminded exactly who the hell you belong to.” He kissed you again, his lips pressing hard against yours, claiming you, his hands tight on your hips, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t get enough.

When he finally pulled away, his breath was shallow, and his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them. His fingers were tracing the line of your jaw as if he wanted to memorize every detail of your face. “I don’t share, sweetheart,” he whispered. “And you’re not going anywhere.”

Your chest tightened with desire, the intensity of his words sinking into you. The way he spoke—like he was ready to fight for you, to own you in the most raw, primal way—made your heart race. You gripped him tighter, breathless with how much you wanted him.

"Fuck," you whispered, your voice heavy with understanding, "now I get it... why you get hard every time I show my possessive side." You smirked, feeling that rush of heat at the back of your neck. "You're just as insane as me, aren't you?"

Simon’s gaze darkened even more, if that was even possible. His lips curled into a grin, predatory and wild, his grip tightening on you. “You’re damn right I am.” He leaned in close, his voice a harsh whisper against your ear. “And that’s why no one else will ever have you like this. Not now, not ever.”

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

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6 @tessakate @xocandyy @nightfwn @robinfeldt98 @bunnyxiis

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x female oc #simon riley imagine #simon riley #possessive simon is the best simon

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bloomseishiro · 2 days ago

Text

DAYDREAMING, WITH MY CHIN IN THE PALM OF MY HANDS — ITOSHI RIN

౨ৎ — sure, rin may be an asshole, but for some reason he offered to help tutor you in your worst subject, english. so maybe he’s not as bad as you thought. maybe he’s actually someone you could find yourself falling for.

itoshi rin x fem!reader. fluff, high school au/no blue lock au, pining, the long awaited part 2 of “it’s impossible to ignore you” :3 ahh i loved writing this omg reader and rin r everything to meeee!! pls enjoy xx

word count. 6.3k

“Rin is going to tutor you?” your friend, Akemi, asks with her jaw on the floor. “The same Rin who rejects girls by saying he doesn’t have time for them?”

You nod sheepishly, just as surprised as she is. “He knows if I fail one more exam, I’ll have to retake the class during summer. And he offered to help me. Still, I won’t do it if you don’t want me to.”

Her eyes widen as she takes a bite of her beef rice bowl. “Why would I not want my best friend to get help from the best English speaker in our grade? I don’t want you to fail!”

“But he broke your heart just yesterday!”

Akemi sighs, waving her hand dismissively. “Yeah, he did. And he sucks for that. But I guess I was more infatuated with him than in love. I mean—what’s his favorite color anyway?”

You shrug.

“I don’t know either. Someone in love should probably have known at least that,” she giggles. “You don’t need to turn down a great opportunity on my account.”

Giving her a grateful look, you mumble, “I really do want to pass English. Do you think he can actually help?”

“If he can’t, who can?”

“The Tooth Fairy? Maybe if I find a tooth to put under my pillow…”

She makes a face. “First off, that’s gross. Second, I think the Tooth Fairy only gives you money, not a passing grade.”

You groan, placing your head in your hands with an exaggerated movement.

Akemi simply laughs at your dramatics. “Oh, come on. Studying won’t be that bad. When’s your first tutoring session, anyway?”

“It was supposed to be now,” you reply, twirling a strand of hair as you glance away to avoid her incredulous stare. “But I just couldn’t start without making sure you were okay with it first! I asked Rin if we could postpone…”

“Y/N!” she exclaims, practically slamming down her bowl of rice onto the cafeteria table. “That’s so stupid of you! And sweet. Very sweet. You’re the best friend ever. But you could’ve been at least three times more knowledgeable about English by now!”

You give her a sideways look. “Three times? Don’t you give Rin too much credit?”

Akemi raises her brow at you. “Have you ever paid attention to him speaking English? Three times better in one session is the minimum. Go text Rin and reschedule for after school.”

“But—”

“No buts,” she says sternly.

“But,” you continue in an exaggerated tone, “he has soccer practice after school.”

“Tell him you’ll wait for him then,” Akemi offers as if it’s the most obvious solution in the world. “You are the one who cancelled your lunch session at the last minute, after all. It’s the canceller’s duty to reschedule.”

“That’s not even a word.”

She glares at you.

You sigh in resignation, holding your hands up as you swallow the last bite of your food. “You’re right. I have English with him next period. Apparently. I’ll ask him if he can tutor me this evening when I see him.”

Akemi nods in satisfaction, giving you a wide grin and a thumbs up. “Good luck, Y/N. I know you’ll ace the next test!”

Exchanging a small smile, you nod in determination. “I will definitely pass. The next exam will be mine!”

At least, you hope so. That is what Rin told you, after all, and soon it’d be time to see if he lives up to that promise.

Half of you expects Rin to say no, that he’s too busy to tutor you tonight and it’s totally your loss for cancelling on him in the first place. But to your surprise, he simply nods.

That’s how you find yourself sitting on the bleachers as you watch Rin playing soccer at his after school club.

Oddly enough, it seems you aren’t the only one.

“Oh, my god! Rin is so good,” the girl to your left, a few rows away from you swoons.

“Yeah, he’s totally in charge on the field,” says another in a similar, dreamy tone. “So intense!”

A guy sitting next to them snorts, folding his hands over his arms. “Too intense. All he cares about is soccer and winning. Nothing else.”

You raise your brow, looking over at the group with your peripheral vision. There was no doubt in your mind that the guy had a crush on one of the girls he was with, but she was too hopelessly infatuated with Rin to notice.

The classic highschool love triangle.

Sort of. Maybe it’s more of a broken love line.

As the sun begins to set, the coach ends the practice and tells everyone to keep up the good work before dismissing them.

You silently watch Rin down a bottle of water before grabbing a clean towel to wipe his face and neck. Seeing as the practice was over and it would likely be time for your tutoring session soon, you make your way down to the field.

“Not another one of Rin’s secret admirers,” one of his teammates groans to another. “I’ve seen enough rejections this week to last a lifetime.”

If Rin can hear them (which, given he’s only three feet away, there’s no doubt that he can’t), he chooses to ignore them completely. Instead, he saunters over to you and nods in greeting.

“Give me a minute to change, then we can go,” he says, brushing his hair out of his face with his fingers. “Wait for me by the door.”

From the corner of your eye, you see his teammates’ jaws drop as Rin begins to walk away to clean himself up.

“Is he willingly…speaking to a girl?” whispers one with a bleached blonde streak in his fringe.

Another shivers, a horrified look on his face. “I feel like the world just turned upside down.”

You stifle a laugh at their dramatics. The concept of Rin willingly interacting with someone of the opposite sex shouldn’t be that revolutionary. But, you have met Rin, after all. His stoic and uncaring persona did run rampant at times. Perhaps their shock isn’t so misplaced.

Much to your pleasure, you don’t have to wait long for Rin to finish up in the locker rooms. The outfit he changed into is a casual one—a simple crew neck and black joggers—but he somehow manages to look fully put-together.

He comes up to you and you wave, finally allowing yourself to smile. “Hi, Rin.”

“Hey,” he says, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Ready?”

You nod, walking side-by-side with him as you skip over to the school library. It’s not open for too much longer, but it should be enough for you to get a good hour of tutoring in.

“How was practice?” you ask conversationally as you make your way down the hall.

Rin shrugs. “Nothing special.”

You huff to yourself, glad to see he was as chipper as ever. And to think you two almost had a moment after that train ride… It must’ve been your delusions talking.

As he enters the library, he finds a table for you to sit at near the back, away from the librarian and remaining students so as to not disrupt them with your talking.

“The last test we had in the class was about reading comprehension, right?” asks Rin, pulling out a children’s picture book written in English and handing it over to you. “Is your issue that you don’t know the words, or you don’t understand the meaning?”

“Of course I know the words!” you cry indignantly, proving yourself by reading a random page of the book and translating them out loud in Japanese. “Back when all we did were vocabulary tests in the previous years, I aced those. It’s the…putting it together I don’t get.”

He nods as if he expected it. “I figured you would know how to translate it. You are in the advanced English class, after all,” he says dryly.

“Somehow,” you murmur.

“Knowing how to translate each word to Japanese is different from understanding it in English.”

“That’s what the hard part is,” you agree miserably.

Rin snorts, “Then maybe you shouldn’t have done Advanced English. You would’ve done just fine in the normal classes. This is the only teacher who actually cares about our conversational and comprehension skills.”

“But I always take the advanced classes!”

“How’s that working out for you?”

You glare at him. “Well, it’d be better if my English tutor was actually helpful!”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m getting there. I have to gauge how bad you are before I know where you need help.”

You heave a sigh, unable to argue with his logic.

Rin searches something on his phone before showing it to you. “Here, can you read that?”

Nodding slowly, you say the title in Japanese, “Analysis of relative gene expression data using real-time quantitative—”

“In English,” interrupts Rin exasperatedly.

You frown. “But… I don’t know how to pronounce it.”

“It doesn’t matter. Just try.”

Try and make a fool of yourself? No thanks.

You shake your head stubbornly.

Rin pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales loudly. “Okay. Well, you can theoretically translate a research paper, but you don’t know how those words go together. And you can’t make sense of it in English.”

“Sounds accurate,” you sniff.

“All that knowledge about vocabulary and grammar won’t do you any good if you can’t understand the source language,” he comments, deadpan but not rude.

“Well, how do we fix it, doctor?” you say sarcastically.

He huffs, taking his phone back from you in one swift motion. “We put you through the most intensive training regimen I know. Watching English movies.”

Your next tutoring session is at Rin’s house.

It’s a nice house, but rather empty. There are pictures of him, his parents, and someone you assume to be his brother scattered throughout the hallways, but no one else is home. When Rin opens the door, he doesn’t even have to greet anyone or introduce you to his parents before bringing you to his room.

The session starts with Rin going over some grammar and sentence structures from an earlier class (one that you definitely slept through), and segues into you reading another children’s book. This time, he demands you read it in English and give him a summary about what it’s about instead of translating each word into Japanese.

“The larger context is more important than each individual word. Even if you don’t know a few words, you should still be able to understand what’s going on,” he says, already sounding impatient. But really, you think that’s just the perpetual tone of his voice.

This time, you dutifully listen. You had to put your trust in Rin’s tutoring skills if you wanted a chance to pass the class.

As you read through the picture book with a giant elephant on the cover, your brows furrow in confusion. You aren’t sure if you’re just complete ass at reading English, or if the story was genuinely this bizarre.

“Rin,” you say hesitantly.

“Hm?”

“Is this really about an elephant finding a small planet on a speck on a clover? And no one believes him because they can’t see it? Until they… Yopp?”

Rin nods, looking thoroughly impressed. “So you can understand some English.”

“I don’t think half of the words in this book are even real!”

“Exactly why it’s a perfect way to force you to focus on the context over translations,” he retorts.

You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity. Still, it did help you find some confidence in your comprehension skills. If you can read English on a paper, maybe understanding it audibly isn’t so far out of reach.

Turning the TV in his room in, Rin lazily turns to you. “Time to start the intensive part. Let’s watch a movie in English. I’ll keep the Japanese subtitles on for a bit, but then change it to English subtitles only.”

You bite your lip, fiddling nervously with a thread on your sleeve. “I don’t know… That sounds a lot harder than reading a picture book meant for five year olds.”

“We can pause when you need to and go slow.”

Reluctantly, you nod. “What are we going to watch?”

“The Conjuring.”

“What’s that about?”

“You’ll see.”

Rin sits on one side of his bed, gesturing for you to join him. Your cheeks begin to burn at the implication of joining him in bed, but the butterflies instantly turn into dust the moment he so obviously scoots away to put the most distance he possibly can between you two.

As you blink at him questioningly, he simply explains, “My TV is better than the one in the living room. I’m not trying to…”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Yeah,” he finishes awkwardly.

The moment the movie comes onto the screen, your eyes widen with dread. It’s dark, and eerie, and you immediately know what this is.

“A horror movie?!” you cry indignantly. “I did not sign up for this.”

“The plotlines in American horror movies are relatively simple,” insists Rin. “It should be easier for you to follow compared to a drama.”

You squint at his explanation, taking a pillow from his bed and hugging it close to your chest. “That sounds like baloney.”

He snorts in amusement, eyeing the way you are clutching his pillow in a death grip. “Why? Are you scared?”

“No!”

Rin sighs, “I’ll keep the lights on.”

You pause before muttering, “Thanks.”

The movie starts and you immediately regret all your life choices. Is Rin trying to help you pass your English class, or is he secretly trying to torture you?

Rin really is an asshole…

It doesn’t take a genius to feel the sense of suspense and unease in the film, even if you didn’t fully understand what the actors were saying. You knew there was some demonic supernatural shit going on and you immediately hated it.

Rin extends his leg and you can’t help but yelp at the sudden movement.

Your head snaps to his, eyes wide and alert.

“I was just getting a cramp,” he says with a hint of laughter in his voice.

Of course, you were scared out of your mind and he was laughing. What do all the girls even see in him?

You huff, sinking deeper into his bed and allowing his pillow to block more and more of your vision. In your fear-clouded haze, you vaguely notice Rin offering you another one of his pillows to hold. Those fluffy feathers would certainly be enough to fend off any evil spirits.

During a particularly intense part, you find yourself abandoning the pillows and creeping over to Rin’s side of the bed, too scared to register how you grabbed his arm and buried your face in it.

“I’m going to turn off the subtitles now,” he says, but you don’t let go of him as he reaches for the remote to change the settings. He glances over at you, his lip curled up. “Do you need a break?”

“No.” You shake your head fervently. “Let’s get this over with as soon as possible.”

He shrugs and resumes the movie, almost unfazed as you attach yourself back onto his side.

This isn’t something you’re used to doing when you watch a movie with someone. In fact, you’re normally perfectly content sitting in your own personal space. But this movie was terrifying and you were willing to use anything that provided some source of comfort.

Besides, it doesn’t seem like Rin minds… Knowing him, he would’ve shoved you off the bed or told you to move if he got too uncomfortable. Plus, this situation is all his fault anyway.

To your surprise, you understand some of the phrases the actors are saying despite having only English subtitles. Though, it comes at your own demise as you grow even more scared at the movie.

You yelp as a jumpscare scene occurs, hiding your face behind your hair and pressing your cheek against Rin’s arm.

A stifled laugh comes from beside you and you’re about to tell him off for finding enjoyment from your misery when he casually brushes your hair back behind your ear. The words on the tip of your tongue instantly become nothing but a forgotten whisper as your stomach flip-flops about ten times in the span of five seconds.

The gentleness of his touch still burns your face. You look up at him, confused.

“You can’t watch when your eyes are covered,” he says with his attention already back to the movie.

You huff in annoyance. Trying to read Rin is harder than English.

For a moment, you’re tempted to put on a brave face and pull away, but you catch Rin looking over at you once more. This time his gaze is covert, as if he doesn’t want to be noticed. But it’s there. Though his expression is neutral, his eyes are bright as they burn into yours. When he sees you staring back, this time he doesn’t attempt to look away.

Okay, so maybe you could understand why he had girls always swooning over him.

The intensity of his gaze almost makes your cheeks flush. Almost.

Luckily for you, a sudden and loud noise from the movie jolts your mind away from…whatever that moment was.

As the movie comes to an end and the plot is left unresolved, you are still as unsettled as you were when the movie first started. That is to say, Rin really screwed you over by making you watch this.

“I officially hate you,” you proclaim as he turns the television off.

“Again?” He raises his brow. “Why now?”

“Because, what kind of asshole makes someone watch a horror movie that will traumatize them for the rest of their lives?!”

“It’s just The Conjuring.”

You glare at him but he pays it no mind.

“If you’re scared, that must mean you understood it,” he says smugly.

“It’s not difficult to understand when there’s creepy music and dark shadows and everyone sounds slightly insane!”

“See, it’s all about context.”

“I hate you.”

“Do you?” he challenges.

You sigh, “No. Well, maybe temporarily because there is no way in hell I’m going to be able to sleep tonight.”

Rin fixes the pillows on his bed as you get off. “Are you really that scared?”

“Yes! Do you think I’m faking this for dramatic effect?” you ask, incredulous.

“No, but it’s just a movie. You don’t need to be scared once it stops playing.”

“Tell that to my brain.”

Rin snorts and you fold your arms over your chest, looking out the window and wincing once you notice just how dark it is.

“The sun’s already down?” you say with a small voice. “Maybe I should ask my mom to pick me up…”

“Don’t you live nearby?”

You nod, toying with a strand of your hair nervously. “Yes, but a demon can still get me within the ten minutes it takes to get home.”

Rin shakes his head but grabs a jacket as you begin to pack your belongings. “I’ll walk you home, then.”

You pause as you’re shoving your pencil case into your book bag. “You will?”

“Better than having someone come all the way here just to escort you,” he says dryly, leading you out the door. “And…I guess it might be slightly my fault you’re scared.”

“Slightly?” you retort. “It’s definitely all your fault.”

“That’s a funny way of saying ‘thanks for the tutoring session, Rin.’”

You pull a face, crinkling your nose as you repeat monotonously, “Thanks for the tutoring session, Rin.”

He rolls his eyes but there’s a softness to his movements. “Yeah. Sure. You really are improving, you know?”

Begrudgingly, you nod. When he wasn’t making you read weird books and watch scary movies, he was surprisingly patient explaining concepts like participles and tenses. That part was certainly easier for you than trying to read and comprehend in English, so you were glad he pushed you to do that as well. Though today, it may have cost your sanity.

“I guess I should be more genuine,” you say guiltily. “I really am thankful for your help. I know you could be doing lots of other things with your time. Like, practicing more soccer or…watching scary movies. Or… Actually, I don’t know what else you do in your free time.”

He shrugs. “That’s about it, really. I play horror games, too, I guess.”

“With friends?”

“Does it seem like I make friends?” asks Rin in amusement.

You shake your head sheepishly. “Your brother, then?”

He frowns at the mention of his brother, his bright eyes growing dimmer. “No. Definitely not with him. Alone. I play alone. I like it better that way.”

Sensing that you accidentally overstepped on a touchy subject, you clear your throat and look away. “Well, that’s fun too.”

After a few moments of awkward silence as you walk down the poorly lit street, Rin offers, “Sorry.”

You spare him a questioning glance.

“For snapping,” he continues with an annoyed exhale. “We’re not on good terms. My older brother and I.”

You nod in understanding, lightly bumping your shoulder against his. “I could tell. I’m sorry for bringing him up.”

Rin waves you off. “It’s whatever.”

It’s definitely not whatever, but okay, you say to yourself.

The two of you continue walking down the street, turning the corner in silence, but this time it’s not awkward or uncomfortable. Just a neutral calmness. That is, until you hear the sudden ring of a bicycle bell and jump in fear.

Rin coughs to hide a laugh.

“I don’t even want to hear it from you!” you sniff, haughtily crossing your arms and walking ahead of him. “You’re the one to blame for my jitters. How will I ever sleep tonight?”

He raises his hands in surrender. “I know, didn’t I say I’m sorry already?”

“A sorry isn’t enough,” you say with a humph. “How will you atone?”

“You sound crazy,” he says, but humors you nonetheless. “I’ll send you funny cat videos until you fall asleep.”

Your ears perk at the offer. “You drive a hard bargain. Fine.”

“I don’t have your number.”

Rin hands you his phone and you swiftly add yourself as a contact.

“Did you really add yourself as ‘Rin’s Worst Nightmare, devil emoji, devil emoji’?”

You nod proudly.

“Just remember you said it, not me,” he smirked. “What will my name be on your phone?”

“Probably something like, ‘Number One Pain in my Ass.’”

“Creative,” he drawls.

You stick your tongue out at him.

Your walk continues and soon enough, you see the outside of your house come into view. There’s a light visible through the window and you thank the stars you won’t be coming home to a creepy, dark house.

“This is my stop,” you announce with a smile. “Thanks for walking me home.”

“Yeah. I guess I did owe you for scaring you shitless.”

You laugh in acknowledgment. The movie was scary, but at least there were moments you could get your mind off it. “And don’t forget you still owe me cat videos!”

Rin nods. “I’ll send them after I get ready for bed. Try to get some rest now.”

“You too, Rin.”

“How are your tutoring sessions coming along?” asks Akemi, laying down with her head hanging off your bed.

It’s Friday night after school and Rin told you that he would be too busy to tutor you tonight, which makes it the perfect time to catch up with your friend.

“Good, actually.”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” she laughs.

“I thought he would change his mind and leave me to dry,” you reply with a giggle. “Rin’s offer was so sudden, you know? I was partly expecting him to take it back.”

“That does seem like something he’d do to most people,” Akemi agrees, then shoots you a devilish grin. “But not to you. He must like you.”

You shake your head in denial. “There’s no way that’s the case.”

“But what if it was?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows. “Would you be happy? Maybe you even like him back?”

Groaning, you throw a pillow at her face to stop her incessant questioning.

There’s simply no way Rin liked you. He was just slightly nicer to you because he thought you were someone who is actually worth his time. Whatever that means.

And there’s an even less chance you like him!

Rin has his caring moments, you will give him that, but most times he’s arrogant, emotionally unavailable, and ruthless. Somehow, those qualities suit him…

You catch yourself, shaking your head feverishly at the thought.

There’s no way you could be developing a crush on Rin.

So why do you feel yourself getting butterflies as you think about your next tutoring session?

This session is at your house this time.

You’ve had a handful of meetings in the library over the past few weeks, but Rin decided it was time for another intensive training session— Meaning, it was time for you to watch another movie.

“It won’t be horror this time,” he assures you, tone only slightly mocking. “I think you’ve gotten decent enough that you can graduate to a more confusing genre.”

“Like romance?” you say excitedly. If Rin forced you to watch a scary movie that gave you nightmares for two weeks straight, then you could force him to sit through some romance movies you know he would hate.

Heaving a sigh, he begrudgingly shrugs. “Student’s choice. Also, it’s your house. I don’t know what movies or streaming services you have.”

“So you’ll watch 10 Things I Hate About You with me?”

“It can’t be a movie you’ve already seen,” Rin says, folding his arms as he leans back on your couch. “The point is to try to piece together the plot and what the characters are saying, not recite something you’ve seen a million times.”

You pout, sitting on the opposite end of the sofa. “But it’s a good movie…”

“We’ll watch it another time. After you pass the exam.”

After you pass? So Rin’s implying he wants to keep hanging out with you even after these tutoring sessions are over? Your cheeks flush at the thought.

As you scroll through numerous streaming sites, you finally find a title that sounds familiar.

“My friend told me this one is good! How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days,” you point out eagerly.

“You must like the number ten,” he comments.

“You’ll love it too after this!”

Rin stifles a chuckle, and you realize you’ve been hearing him semi-laugh more often lately. The ruthless ice prince does have a fun side to him. He is still, after all, just a high school guy in your grade. And you hate to admit that it fills you with some sense of pleasure knowing you’re the only one in school who has likely ever heard that noise come out of Rin’s mouth.

“Since it’s my first time watching too, we can compare our summaries after.”

You groan, almost forgetting that this was a tutoring session and not just a movie night with a friend. “Compare summaries? What’s next, do I have to cite my sources?”

He rolls his eyes at you. “Keep it up and I’ll say yes, you do.”

Immediately, you shut your lips, desperately wanting to avoid as much outside-of-school work as possible.

“This is so cheesy,” complains Rin as the two of you watch the movie in silence, both invested in the plot. “He has a bet, she has an ulterior motive, they’re going to fall in love while using each other, the reveal is going to split them apart, then they’re going to make up somehow and then the movie will end. I don’t even need to finish it to know.”

You glare at him, eyes fixed on the screen as Andie exchanges a touching conversation with Ben’s mother. “Spoilers, much?”

“I’m not spoiling, it’s an educated guess.”

“Keep it to yourself,” you demand playfully, sticking your tongue out. “Some of us like to be surprised.”

He exhales loudly but turns his attention back to the TV.

The rest of the movie passes by peacefully until you get to a certain scene where the main characters have their obligatory romantic kiss. The kiss is slow and playful, and the scene is so intimate you almost have to look away.

Bashfully, you take your eyes off the screen and see Rin following suit, the apples of his cheeks colored a faint pink.

He looks rather cute.

Your mind starts to wander, picturing you and Rin sharing a kiss like the one on screen and you find your throat getting dry. Would his lips be soft or chapped? They look soft. Would he be the type to hold your chin, your cheek, or your jaw as he kisses you? Maybe even the back of your neck, if you were lucky. You wanted to find out…

Slapping your hands to your face, you silently tell yourself to snap out of it.

He looks over at you, alarmed. “Did you just hit yourself?”

“I thought I felt a fly.”

“On both cheeks?”

“A fly on one side and a mosquito on the other.”

Rin’s brows shoot up before he shakes his head, knowing sometimes, it’s better not to question your logic. “Okay.”

Slowly, the scene escalates from a couple of gentle kisses to the characters taking each other’s shirts off.

Your eyes widen as your gaze is forced away once again.

“Hey. What the hell is this rated?” Rin coughs, his voice strangled. “Aren’t your parents home?”

Through your embarrassment, you glance at him in surprise. Did he really sound flustered just then? So Rin really does have the capacity to feel normal human emotions after all.

“Um, PG-13, I t-think,” you stammer, painfully aware of the actors continuing to make out topless on the television. “My parents are gone for the weekend, anyway.”

“Oh.”

It’s not until the scene is over that you and Rin both let out a sigh of relief, as if the tension could finally escape your bodies. You sink into the cushions, glad that you and Rin decided to sit on opposite sides of the couch. Otherwise, you would’ve been even more aware of his presence and curious about his kiss.

Neither are good things to focus on.

When the movie ends, you wipe away a stray tear at the conclusion. Of course, Rin was right about the entire plot, but that didn’t make it any less amazing.

“So, what’s your rating?” you ask once the credits finish rolling.

“For a movie that’s not horror, maybe a four.”

“Damn, tough crowd,” you say with a tsk. “I loved it! I would give it at least an eight.”

“You’re too generous,” retorts Rin. “What’s your summary?”

You rattle off the happenings of the movie from start to finish, even going so far as to talk about your favorite moments.

When you finish talking, Rin nods, looking pleased with himself. “So you understand. We didn’t even use Japanese subtitles.”

“You’re right!” you exclaim, eyes full of excitement as you exchanged glances with him. “I’m definitely ready for the exam! I feel so much more confident in English comprehension already.”

“Told you you’d pass with me as your tutor.”

“I haven’t passed yet!”

“But you will,” he says, his tone overly-confident. He would be insufferably arrogant if he didn’t have the skills to back it up. Luckily for him, he did. “Soon, I won’t need to tutor you anymore.”

A barely-there frown crosses your face at the reminder.

Would there be no reason to see each other outside of school once you passed the class?

Something about that unsettles you.

Minutes of silence pass before Rin waves his hand in front of your face. “Hello?”

You swallow, forcing a smile. You don’t need to be thinking about that right now. “Sorry, I just spaced out there.”

“I can tell,” he says, somewhat amused. “It is getting late, maybe you need some sleep.”

That isn’t the case, but you nod in agreement.

“I’ll head home, then,” Rin states, standing up and slipping his jacket on. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You wave, walking him to your door and watching him walk away. “See you! And thanks for the help.”

He looks back briefly, raising his hand in acknowledgment and even that single shared glance is enough to send jitters through your body.

Closing the door, you rest your head back and groan. There’s no point in lying to yourself anymore. Not after you literally fantasized about making out with him while he was sitting right next to you.

You have a crush on Rin. And you are so screwed.

“Rin! I passed! Look, look!” you exclaim, holding your test paper out excitedly.

Class just ended and the teacher handed you your text back with a swift, “Nice job.” That might’ve been the best compliment you received in this class all year.

Naturally, the first person you wanted to show it off to was the one who helped you get the grade in the first place, Rin.

He pauses at your desk, peering closely at the grade on your test and nodding once. His lips are turned up in the slightest smile and he ruffles the top of your head.

“You did it,” he says.

You smooth down your hair, trying not to pay too much attention to how nice and warm his hand was. “All thanks to you.”

“I know.” Rin begins to walk to his next class and you follow along, bouncing on the balls of your feet nervously. “You did good too, I suppose”

“Gee, thanks,” you remark dryly. Still, an excited cheer comes out of you. “I don’t need to stay after graduation! How great is that?”

“You can enjoy your summer before we are thrown into adulthood.”

“I know!” you chirp. “And I really couldn’t have done it without you. Hey, how about… Never mind.”

Rin pauses, hanging around the hallway instead of entering his next lesson. He lifts an eyebrow in question. “How about what?”

The words get stuck in your throat as you open your mouth, your nerves getting the better of you. You aren’t someone who finds it easy to confess, and you know Rin’s track record with confessions isn't exactly great.

Yet, you want to ride the momentum of this excitement and ask. It’s now or never.

You take a deep breath before you ask, “How about I treat you to some dinner this Saturday? You know— As a thank you for your help.”

You can barely look Rin in the eye as he stares at you, cheeks dusted pink.

“I told you before we started you don’t need to give me anything in return,” he insists.

Immediately, your face falls. Of course, he would say no. At least he sugarcoated it for you instead of his typical cutthroat rejections…

“But, we can still get dinner this Saturday.”

You lift your head in surprise.

“It’ll be my treat, though.”

You blink. “Like a…? As in a…?”

Rin’s brows furrow at your nonsensical mutterings. “A what?”

“A…”

“Can you say it already?”

“A date?” you blurt.

He snorts, shaking his head in amusement. “Now, was that so hard to say?”

You pout at his teasing, sticking your lower lip out as he chuckles. “Hey. Don’t be mean.”

“Sorry,” he amends, though his smirk tells you he’s not actually sorry. “The answer is yes.”

“Huh?”

“It’s a date.”

“Really?!” you ask, unable to contain your excitement. Before he can even reply, you bounce closer to him, throwing your arms around his waist as giving him a hug.

He stiffens for a moment before slowly returning your embrace. Rin’s hand rests on the small of your back and you want nothing more than to stay like this.

Until the bell rings and snaps some sense into you.

You jolt at the sudden ring and Rin coughs to hiss his embarrassment at the public display of affection.

“Oh, shit! I’m late. So late,” you cry, holding the strap of your book bag and spinning around frantically. “Bye, Rin! Let’s talk about our date after school!”

“I’ll see you after practice then,” he calls out as you run off. “We can plan it while I walk you home.”

Your cheeks heat up and you feel thankful he can’t see the embarrassment evident in your expression. Who knew Rin could be smooth like that? Saying he’ll take you out on a date and walk you home today so casually?

It’s another side of him you want to get to know more about.

There are times he can be an asshole, and honest to the point of being uncaring. But he’s also surprisingly nice at times. And even patient. You hope the next layer for you to unravel, which is perhaps the most exciting of all, is to learn how Rin is as a boyfriend.

You giggle to yourself at the thought. Would he be teasing and mean? Or doting and affectionate? Maybe a bit of both.

Shaking your head, you stop yourself from fantasizing. It’s just one date, that doesn’t mean he’s your boyfriend yet. But you’re in no rush. The most fun part is the journey it takes to get there.

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #itoshi rin x reader #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x you #bllk x you #bllk fluff #bllk fanfic #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #rin fluff #itoshi rin x you #rin x you

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thewertsearch · 2 days ago

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Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain cloth. Or anything taking place out here in the emerald shitty paintjob, for that matter.

So, wait - in this extended Wizard of Oz analogy, Hussie is the wizard? It does seem fitting, except that the Wizard of Oz was only pretending to be an all-powerful god, whereas Hussie, as the author of the story, actually is omnipotent.

...not that there's any actual proof of that, come to think of it.

Perhaps the in-universe Hussie avatar is merely narrating the story, rather than creating it, and any claims to the contrary are really just smoke, mirrors and braggadocio. If that's true, then they're really just an observer of these events, albeit a particularly well-informed one.

JOHN: this place is weird. when are we gonna bust through the other window, anyway? JOHN: i'm kind of antsy to get on with our adventure and meet up with everybody! JADE: yes me too JADE: hmmmmmm

It's going to be hours, at the very least.

If our two parties were mere minutes from reuniting, there'd be no reason to drag it out for this long. Besides, if the kids' arrival in the B2 session was imminent, then they'd immediately steal the spotlight back from our four new protagonists, some of whom we haven't even officially met yet.

The B2 kids need room to breathe. They deserve some time to develop as characters, without being completely overshadowed by their predecessors. Therefore, said predecessors will have to slow their fucking roll for a second, and let the Alpha Kids shine.

JADE: we should arrive in about three years

Jegus, what?

I haven't been this blindsided by a timeskip since Scarab 25.6 - but the more I think about it, the more confident I am that it's the right decision. Not just because it gives the Alphas time to develop, but because of the possibilities it opens up.

When the B2 kids re-enter the story, they'll be around the same age as Jane's team - and since we've just met Jane's team, I think it's highly unlikely that they'll be included in the timeskip. The Alpha Kids aren't going to be nineteen when John's team arrive - they'll be in the same timeframe they're in now, on the same day they entered their session.

In other words, we're going to get to know the Alpha Kids as a group of hormonal teenagers - and then, when the time is right, we're going to drop a cluster bomb of additional teenagers right on top of their session, stand well back, and watch the shitshow begin. If you think the Jake/Jane/Dirk/Roxy love quadrangle is bad, wait until you see Jake/Gamzee/Karkat/Terezi/Dave.

Plus, a 3-year-timeskip means our protagonists can finally rest for a while. The Sburb crisis isn't over, of course, but it is on pause - and for much longer than I expected it to be, too. The kids can finally unpack what the fuck happened today, and the trolls can enjoy a non-hostile living environment for literally the first time in their entire lives. This is good for them, and I think it'll really help them grow.

It's a shame that we'll probably be splitting the party, but these two groups are still full of interesting dynamics, that we now have time to explore. John/Jade and Rose/Dave can finally get to know each other as siblings, Rosemary can develop as a couple, and the whole Karkat/Terezi situation can finally resolve, one way or the other.

We've been stuck on one single day for almost four thousand pages - but now, we're finally leaving this long, long Monday afternoon behind us. It's time to accelerate.

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 6 #s193 #4301

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moonlight-alexia · 2 days ago

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uneven ground | a.p./p.g.

alexia putellas x reader (platonic) + patri guijarro x reader (platonic) | 3.5k | grief is hard to navigate, but your friends are there to help you

ˏˋ°•*⁀ this came out of nowhere. it's somehow 3am and i wrote 3.5k through my tears...this is very personal and written completely because i express through writing and my own grief has been overwhelmingly consuming me, especially at night lately. always here for you all <3

any and all feedback, comments, reblogs etc are very appreciated and welcome <3

The locker room is loud again, which was nice in its own way. Almost comforting in the way that the loudness could distract you from everything that’s happened. But at the same time, it felt suffocating to be around it all, watching everyone’s lives go on while you just sat there.

Laughter bounced off the walls, music filling any other moment that would have otherwise been silent, boots clattering against the floor. Within these walls nothing had changed, not for the team at least, but your entire world had been shaken up, changed forever with no clue on how to move forward or feel like yourself again.

In these moments, it felt the most isolating. It felt like you were the only one who would ever feel this way. That’s the funny thing about grief, about losing someone you held so closely, it was both loud and quiet. Loud in the way that it consumed your entire being, all of your thoughts and feelings, but quiet in the way that it physically made you quiet. Like you had so much inside you that wanted to be let out, but you couldn’t find the words or you didn’t want to burden them anymore with your grief.

You hadn’t let yourself deeply feel the loss of your sister. The first few weeks that followed you were engulfed with so much love, constant conversations, and busy planning the funeral. Even though you’d just lost someone you never imagined losing so soon, your biggest problem was what kind of flowers, what songs should be played and trying to pick the right photos to capture everything your sister was in her life.

The weeks after the funeral, after you’d come back to training, everything seemed to slow down. After you stopped being busy is when it began to fully process, it’s when you started to feel just how greatly your loss had hit you. Your heart ached. It ached for your sister, for the life you had to now live without her, it ached for someone to see past whatever mask you had on, it ached for someone to just see you.

The locker room was loud, but it was missing one voice that normally always added to it. Yours. You didn’t think anyone would notice. But you miss Alexia across the room, talking quietly with Patri and how her eyes flicker towards you every now and then. Everything you thought went unnoticed, your two best friends picked up on.

Alexia thought you had come back to training, to playing, to the team too soon. But everyone is different in how they process and with what they need. Truth was, you had forced yourself back quicker than you should have. The silence was more suffocating than watching everyone else move on and feeling like you were sitting on the sidelines of your life watching it pass by.

You tied your laces too tight but you didn't fix it. It gives you something to feel, something other than the insurmountable grief coursing through your body. You went through the motions of training. Physically you were fine, how you felt mentally hadn’t gotten to the point of impacting your game, how you play or train. You could crack a joke, force a smile, just pretend.

Everyone else was fooled. Except Alexia noticed the way the light had stopped shining in your eyes, the dark circles underneath that hadn’t been there until the last week or so, the way your smile never reached your eyes anymore. Patri noticed how your jokes were shallow, not much thought like you used to and instead just general quips back, how you wouldn’t joke or mess around any further than just surface level.

Today during training, it wasn’t the first time they’d noticed the changes. It just took them a bit to figure out how to approach it, how to approach you.

‘Something’s wrong with…,’ Patri had nodded in your direction when she brought it up with Alexia, she’d known you longer outside of football, to the point Alexia knew and was close with your entire family. Out of anyone else on the team to also notice how you really were, Patri knew it’d be Alexia.

You never noticed them talk about you, no one else did. They did it in a way that didn’t bring attention, in a way that they could figure out the best way to

Alexia didn’t argue or disagree when Patri first brought it up with her. Instead a hum of agreement, her eyes watching your interactions with everyone else, and a deep sigh before tearing her eyes away from you and towards Patri. Grief wasn’t easy. They both couldn’t take it away from you. No matter what they did. And they definitely didn’t want to make you feel like they were trying to rush you through the process

They just wanted to give you a space where you could just be. A space you and your grief could exist together without the worry that you were burdening others too much. A space that told you that you, your memories of your sister, and the way you were feeling weren’t being forgotten or left behind.

So their way of showing up for you, to tell you that you were seen, that your grief was real and that there was no timeline or deadline that you’d have to finish grieving by, manifested in small ways.

After training, you were sitting in your cubby, still in your kit, right down to your boots still laced too tight. You were watching the rest of the team file out. Your gaze was distant, you were seeing everyone but not really. You barely registered when Alexia had dropped down sitting beside you.

She didn’t talk at first. She let you both exist there in the silence of the change rooms until she heard your breathing become a little unsteady. Alexia had been your friend for a while, she knew how to read you, this might be the first loss she’s seen you witness in the time of your friendship but she’s seen you struggle mentally, she’s seen you go through heartbreaks so similar in terms of how deeply it made you feel.

So Alexia notices the change in your breathing, she already saw the distant gaze your eyes held. She spoke up before she could let the silence, let your thoughts and grief wrap around you and pull you under, ‘I saw the photo your mum posted. You and her, last year in Mallorca,’ Alexia’s voice was soft, quiet, enough to break through the silence without deafening her surroundings. You didn’t say anything, but she knew you were listening, ‘Both completely sunburnt, your smiles so big, lighting up your whole face,’

You kept your gaze in front of you, you felt your throat closing up a little. You remembered that trip like you were still living it. You’d do anything to relive that, to relive it all before you got that dreaded call from your mum. The call you could barely understand between her own tears that felt like they soaked through the phone.

‘I remember you telling me that she couldn’t swim, refused to learn when she was little no matter how hard your parents tried, but she still insisted on diving in anyway,’ Alexia leaned forward, her arms resting against her thighs, she was talking out in front of her seemingly like she was talking into the void. You didn’t need to talk back.

You nod, the memory hurts, remembering her hurts, but this is what you had secretly been hoping for. For someone to see you, to see your hurt, to remind you she wasn’t going to be forgotten, ‘I had to dive right in to save her, like always,’ Your voice cracked, you hadn’t really used it much, hearing it almost felt foreign.

‘Didn’t you say she used to sing to your dog? To try to lull him to sleep? But it would just make him run around barking instead,’ Your eyes stung a little, tears filling, your eyes a little glassy. The way Alexia was talking to you, talking about your sister, it was so gentle, so easy and it hit you hard.

Not in any kind of dramatic, lung collapsing way but in a way where your breath shakes a little before composing again, the way you lay your hands flat against your thighs so they stop trembling. For the first time since the funeral, you felt seen.

‘Yeah, I think she made up half the songs. Or they were that off-key they were unrecognisable,’ Alexia smiles softly when she hears a ghost of a laugh escape your lips. Your lips barely resembled a smile but in that moment it felt like your sister was alive again. That you weren’t alone.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

One morning, a few days after that first interaction with Alexia, you’d arrived to training far too early, dark circles more prominent than ever before. You were curled up in a corner, already on your third coffee before anyone arrived.

You had a rough night, but most nights were like that now. This one was just worse. Ending up in yet another sleepless night that you hoped to forget about. You were starting to get used to it, used to barely sleeping, used to feeling so far disconnected from your body.

You stared outside, the coffee barely able to warm your body, barely able to make you feel just quarter of being alive. Outside the sun started to shine brightly, you were starting to resent the sun. How could the sun still shine when yours no longer did. Some days you felt like the sun was mocking you and the coldness you felt inside, some days you felt like the sun was a sign from your sister to tell you to get out and keep moving forward. You always compared her to the sun, she was your sun, that was just who she was.

Today you felt like the first one.

‘What number’s that one?’ Patri joked, nodding towards the cup in your hand. She’d started coming to training a bit earlier, in case you were already there and you might need someone to make sure the sleepless nights weren’t catching up to you too much. Even if today was the first time you’d turned up to training abnormally early. Patri would still be there.

‘First one,’ You mumbled lowly, tapping your finger against the side of the cup a few times. Patri smirked, you had some quirks when you were lying, your sister would always throw you under the bus and told your teammates all your weird quirks and things you do in certain situations.

‘You’ve always been a terrible liar,’ Patri had occupied the seat across from you now, her own cup joining yours on the table, ‘The first time I met her she told me how to tell when you’re lying,’

Your breath hitches slightly at the mention of your sister. Casually dropped into conversation, like it always belonged. Patri never stumbled, trying to take back mentioning your sister like some people tend to do. You were a bit surprised, but it was mostly due to the fact that everyone had stopped mentioning her.

Everyone tried to avoid any and all conversations that involved her. It was like they were afraid to say something that might make you break. But you were doing a good job at breaking on your own.

Your eyes caught Patri’s, you smiled a little, it was lopsided but it was still a smile and rolled your eyes playfully, ‘She did love spilling those things about me,’

Looking down at your cup again briefly, your chest didn’t ache as much, your shoulders felt a bit lighter.

‘Want to go sit in the sun? Get coffee number, what, four or five before the loud ones burst in?’ Patri nodded outside where she caught your eyes briefly drifting off towards.

‘You say that like you aren’t one of them,’

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Everyone was celebrating. You’d won an important match, you’d scored and dedicated it to your sister. Even you were celebrating, you looked so free for the first time in a while. For the first time since you felt free, you felt the joy that everyone else was feeling around you.

Just like a lot of things lately, your burst of happiness, burst of freedom from grief, was cut short when someone shouted, ‘Let’s go out tonight! To celebrate!’

You froze. Suddenly all you could hear was your sister’s voice. She’d find any small thing to drag you out of the house to ‘celebrate’. Your eyes darted around, you were sure if you focused long enough on one spot you would be able to see her standing there in front of you. A cheeky grin on her face, pulling you up from your bed to your wardrobe.

Throwing all different outfits at you. Laughing so loudly, so freely, every time you complained about having to try on another outfit. You could feel your sister's hands on your face trying to keep your head still while she did your make up, she was always much better at it than you.

The endless photos, the way you’d both dance until you felt like your feet were going to fall off, all of it. It consumed you and you struggled to tell what was real and what wasn’t. The cheers around the dressing room felt like they were worlds away while you sat down, slowly untying your boots, too slowly, your fingers feeling each strand of the laces, each ridge of your boot, trying to ground yourself back to reality.

While the room was lively, you weren’t, Alexia was near you now taking off her own boots and socks before she leaned over, her hand gently on your shoulder making you flinch but firmly pulling you back to reality, ‘We can skip the celebrations,’

‘Come over, I’ll make us something, we can watch some terrible movie thats so bad we don’t know whether to love or hate,’

‘But–’ You looked around the room, celebrations weren’t stopping or lulling any time soon. Alexia caught your gaze and understood what you were trying to say. But you knew deep down, without Alexia needing to tell you, that they’d all be fine without you for one night.

Your absence might be noticed but they’d understand. You were starting to learn that you didn’t always need to be who you were before you lost your sister, and you didn’t need to push yourself to be a version that was digestible for others, one that wasn’t holding an insane amount of grief and pain. Your friends would still be there, even if you chose a quiet night in with one friend over a night out with many of your friends.

‘Captain’s orders,’ You shook your head in disbelief at Alexia, she just smirked and walked away to grab her things.

You didn’t fight Alexia, you went back to her place. She cooked you the food that you would talk for hours about whenever your sister made it for you. It might not have tasted exactly like your sister’s but it felt like a piece of her. You held your bowl close while eating, like it might vanish if you let go, but you held it close and you felt like you had her back with you.

As momentary as it was. When Alexia told you what she’d made you almost cried. You didn’t though, but you thought that you might finally be able to sleep through the night again.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

However, healing wasn’t linear. No matter how many good nights you had started to have, there were still plenty of rough nights that you didn’t think you’d mentally make it through. Tonight was one of those emotionally draining nights, the kind that left you wide awake until sunrise, everything and everyone slowly reappearing to make the world lively again. And you’d feel out of place, like some weird juxtaposition.

It all started with accidentally playing a voice note your sister had sent you, after finding out you’d made it to the champions league final again. How happy and excited she sounded, the warmth she always gave that could fill up any space, it made you smile a little hearing her voice again. Until the end. Until the ‘I can’t wait to see you win it again, I’ll be right there. I love you,’

She never did make it to the champions league final, and neither did you. The girls went on to win it, they said they won it for you. They won it for you and your sister. Amidst their on pitch celebrations they had a moment of silence, huddled around in a circle, close together, heads bowed. They took that moment for you.

You watched that video over and over. You listened to that voice note over and over. You didn’t care right now if it sent you spiralling, you just needed to feel it. Like trying to claw your way into a moment that had already passed, or hoping that if you listened enough times you’d never forget your sister's voice. Like that video and that voice note could pull you back in time. Back in time, in a universe where the video didn’t need to exist. Because she made it to that final

It wasn’t healthy, you knew this loop would pull you under. That was the kind of pull grief could have over a person. It had its own gravity and you were stuck in its orbit, caught in its pull with no clear way out.

Then out of nowhere, cutting through your inevitable spiral, your phone buzzed in your hand. It took a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to a different kind of lighting coming from your phone and for your brain to register the interruption.

Patri [12:15am] Have you seen or heard? It’s absolutely pouring outsideYou’re still up, right?

You [12:20am]

Yeah

Patri [12:22am] Come outside, don’t forget a jacket

Your eyebrows scrunched together and you hesitated momentarily. You could’ve ignored it, but you pulled yourself out of your bed, grabbing your rain jacket in the process. Your confusion didn’t falter, even when you peeked outside seeing Patri’s car in your driveway.

It was pouring, and you’re back in real time, not inside your head, where you can actually hear how loud the rain sounds even from inside your home. But you threw on your jacket, hands shoved inside your pockets, and stepped outside.

The rain against your body felt jarring, the cold swept through your body and settled into your bones. It also felt like it shifted something inside you. Like it had cracked the heaviness that was inside you, open just enough to let some air back in. To let some life back into you.

‘What are you doing here?’ Patri leaned against the side of her car, lightly tapping her foot against one of the puddles the rain had already made appear. Patri was soaked already, but she didn’t seem to care. She didn’t say anything, instead she looked up at you with a small smirk on her face before she kicked her foot against the water.

‘Hey!’ You shrieked, laughing out a little, kicking some water back at Patri.

Your laughter got louder the more you messed around in the rain together. You were kicking water at each other, running away, slipping over on the wet grass. If anyone saw the two of you right now they’d think you were sisters. It’s exactly something you’d be caught doing with your sister, especially when you were both younger.

And then it hit. Out of nowhere, all at once. Just how rain can, ‘I’m scared that I’m going to forget her laugh, or the way her dimples would only show when she smiled to someone she cared about,’ You didn’t know when your laughter turned into sobs or when the rain on your face turned into tears, ‘I’m scared I’m going to forget her. I’m scared to live in a world where she doesn’t exist anymore,’

Everything you’d been holding back out of fear of burdening those around you with your pain, you let out. Patri never promised that you wouldn’t forget the sound of your sister's voice or that way she laughed. But she also never said that you would forget.

Instead she just said, ‘Tell me the one thing she did that always made you laugh, no matter what,’

You told her and Patri laughed. She laughed and you laughed with her. Patri didn’t need to reassure you that you wouldn’t forget. Because even if you did forget how your sister sounded, you’d always remember the way she’d make you laugh. Her laughter, her happiness, it was all remembered through you. Through everyone who knew her and, for now, that was enough.

#alexia putellas x reader #patri guijarro x reader #alexia putellas #patri guijarro #woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine

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gallusrostromegalus · 2 days ago

Note

God-King of all Hueco Mundo and Rightful Ruler of Las Noches Baraggan Louisenbrain (temporarily displaced) doesn't think about Tousen much at all, save that the man has a thoroughly offensive lack of respect for the concept of monarchy, and a peculiar friendship with one of his minions that Baraggan can't quite make heads or tails of.

It started minutes after Baraggan's absolute fluke of a loss to the Shinigami, and Baraggan was giving the Shinigami a tour of his The Palace.

"These are my Fracción, my most loyal subjects!" Baraggan waved over his half-dozen devotees. "Chonin Pow and Nigre Parduoc are my most powerful warriors. Findor Calius' strategies in battle have never once failed me, and Gio Vega's Speed is Beyond Compare. Abimara Reder has never bent so much as a knee in battle and Culhourne... well. What king could hold court without a Jester?"

"Oh, that's what we keep Old Blind Bones around for!" the obnoxious Ichimaru laughed, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder at the third, stoically silent and therefore least offensive Shinigami.

The third shinigami seemed to be inspecting an ugly little cactus slumping from where it had sprouted in odd piece of rubble.

"Buscas en la noche Las Noches, Poderosos Y a la dama de la noche en ella no hallas: cadáver son las que ostentó murallas, Y tumba de sí propio es el reloj gran"

The Shinigami recited. He had the stem balanced on the back of his hand, fingers on the stone beneath, seemingly speaking to the plant.

"Poor bastard was born without a sense of humor, I'm afraid." Ichimaru shrugged apologetically.

They continued on, and as Baraggan crossed over the remnants of an arch above them that he realized that Culhourne had failed to follow his King, and instead joined the third Shinigami, whatever his name was, in studying the ugly little plant.

"-past this every day for the better part of a century now, and I'd never noticed!" Culhourne was laughing at something the shinigami was pointing out on the rubble.

"There are poems everywhere for those with hands to read." He smiled, and Culhourne fixed the Shinigami with a confused stare that made him look like a concussed poodle. He leaned in closer to the Shinigami, who grinned and waved a hand over his face, and Culhourne snickered loudly in reply.

"DON'T DAWDLE , CULHOURNE!" Baraggan boomed at his ridiculous devotee and the Flowery Adjuchas flinched.

"Yes, ye mighty!" the Shinigami waved casually to indicate he'd heard The Monarch, but seemed in no particular hurry to catch up. "Blame me for distracting- I'm sorry, I didn't actually catch your full name earlier..?"

Baraggan's Fraccion looked warily up at his monarch, and then back down at the Shinigami that Baraggan was just now realizing was rather pathetically diminutive. If Culhourne was just over six shaku tall, the Shinigami only barely broke five. How humiliating, to be bested in combat by something so small!

"...Charlotte. My name is Charlotte Culhourne." the Adjuchas nodded voice high and tight with nerves, but holding out a hand in greeting. "Princess Charlotte if you're so inclined, Mr..?" He added, and Baraggan rolled his recently-acquired eyes. Culhourne is a solid fighter and has served me loyally, but his delusions of femininity are getting out of hand-!

"Kaname Tousen, your highness." The small shinigami delicately took Culhourne's hand and bowed as though he were greeting royalty.

...A respect the shinigami had rather pointedly *not* paid Baraggan earlier.

And with a simple courtesy, Tousen solidly secured his position as The Most Obnoxious of the Shinigami.

---

A few weeks after that, the new uniforms were delivered.

"What is with Aizen and the color white?" Redder grumbled, holding up the loincloth that made up the majority of his uniform. "Would it kill the guy to put on a little flair? You can't even navigate the construction site because every damn wall is white and looks the same!"

"I don't know, I think they look rather snappy!" Findorr preened, adjusting the collar of his uniform in the mirror.

"...Why's there a hole in my coat right over my dick?" Chonin frowned at his uniform and the lads stopped their chattering to stare at the extremely strange tailoring choice for a moment.

"Maybe it's for you to piss out of?" Ggio shrugged.

"Don't be vulgar, Vega." Baraggan huffed, glaring at his disgustingly minimalist 'uniform' he'd been given. No indication of rank given save the humiliating brand Aizen had given him to indicate that he was second only to Lord Aizen himself- Baraggan would wither to dust before he strode out onto the field of battle with his buttcheeks out though.

"Culhourne, you're handy with a needle." He nodded, looking at the tattered yet somehow vastly more regal robes he wore before. "I want you to do something about this- give me my furs and gold back, so people know when they're addressing a king! Are you listening?"

Culhourne was decidedly not. He stood before the mirror, slumped in despair at his reflection.

"Hey, don't look like that! You got the best one out of all of us!" Ggio laughed, slapping Culhourne ont he shoulder.

"Yeah! Very macho!" Nirgge nodded enthusiastically, and Culhourn hid his face in his hands.

"What are you sobbing for, Boy? Pull yourself together and find your sewing kit!" Baraggan snarled, hand raised to strike his subordinate.

"I have it. Miss Paramia thanks you for lending it her down in the surgical office until the real medical tools arived." Tousen spoke up from the immediate vicinity of Baraggan's elbow and the king had to fight to not startle more than the blustering of his mustache, but the Shinigami had already passed him, setting the sewing kit on a table in the center of the room. "How does everything fit?"

"IT'S DISGRACEFUL! THERE'S NO UNIFORMITY TO THESE UNIFORMS! OR INDICATION OF RANK! HOW IS THE ENEMY SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHO I AM?" Baragan growled.

"One might argue that they're uniformly awful, but I understand your point." Tousen nodded, pulling a chair up to the table and taking a seat.

Culhourne made a strangely wet noise behind his hands before straightening up, fingertips pressed to his tear ducts, holding everything back.

"Miss Charlotte?" Tousen asked, and Baragan scoffed.

"It's- Its fine!" He smiled and waved, but his voice was still pained.

Tousen pointed his ear at Culhourne with the same skeptical intensity that Ulqiorra's unflinching gaze developed whenever Barragan tried to explain anything more nuanced than platonic solids to the sad little prick.

"If there is ANYTHING wrong with your uniform, it should be remedied as soon as possible. Even an itchy seam is enough of a distraction to cause a split-second delay in reaction times and end your life." Tousen lectured, pulling out the supplies and threading a needle with an odd roll of his hand and something that looked like a silver coin, but the movement was a magician's trick- gone so fast Baraggan wasn't sure if he'd actually seen it or not.

"I know how important it is to have a uniform that fits ALL aspects of the wearer, Miss Charlotte." He added with a weight to his voice Baraggan couldn't quite puzzle out the meaning of.

Culhourne regarded him with a puzzled frown. "...Do mine last. I need to think about it."

Tousen nodded, and waved Baraggan over.

An hour later, Baraggan regarded himself in the mirror, and the king couldn't argue with the results- the uniform was more more agreeable with his black ruff and golden gauntlets back. The Shinigami's idea about turning the chain closure of his cape into a sash might have merit too-

"...No, that is bizarre." Tousen frowned, the end of Poww's jacket in his hands. "Ichimaru is intractable at the best of times, and worse over written message- I'd take it up with him in person."

"What a hassle... okay." Poww groaned, and slowly lumbered off in the general direction of the construction site where Gin might be lurking.

"You're very good at this." Said Culhourne, finally rejoining them from where he'd been sulking.

"Your mother raised such a clever daughter!" Ggio snickered.

Tousen paused, and a small inscrutable smile formed on his face, but he returned to the alterations on Findor's coat without comment.

"We're all due in the Dojo in half an hour, one of you go collect Poww and meet us there- with your dismissal, of course, Lord Tousen." Baraggan sneered.

"Aizen is the only one who may command your presence, you are free to come and go as far as I'm concerned." Tousen muttered, fingers examining a tricky seam. "Might I request the company of Miss Charlotte? I might need a third hand and a functioning pair of eyeballs for a few of the alterations."

"It's of no consequence to me." Baraggan shrugged, doing up the buttons on his coat.

"Have fun at the sewing circle!" Ggio snickered, before he darted out of the room after Poww.

Baraggan watched his Fraccion take a seat at the table with Tousen, with a mouthed 'Thank you'. He huffed, and strode out of the room towards the training Dojo, Fraccion in tow, chattering excitedly.

"Carry on, I want to check something." Baraggan grunted to Abirama, who nodded and waved the others after him.

Cautiously, Baraggan crept back to the door, head tilted to listen. He might be the embodiment of senesence, but his hearing was still sharp as a tack- and the mirror was positioned so he could see out into the hall from his throne, or into the room from the hall.

"If- I don't want to be out of line, Lord To-" Culhourne was asking, almost hiding from the shinigami on the other side of the sewing basket.

"-Just Tousen, please." Tousen spoke up, but there was no real offense in his voice. "Mr. if you must be formal."

"...Mr. Tousen, but. um, I was wondering what you meant earlier, about my uniform fitting ALL my aspects." Culhourne asked.

"You're a smart girl, Miss Charlotte." Tousen replied, a strange fondness in his voice.

"Well, um. About that. I'm not sure how much of a person's form you can percieve, but Um- I'm-" Culhourne stammered.

"You are as much a woman as I am a man, Miss Charlotte." Tousen smiled.

Culhourne frowned, slowly cocking his head at the Shinigami.

"There is some truth to Mr. Vega's speculation that my godmother raised a daughter, if you are so narrow-minded as to place the body over the soul in terms of importance." Tousen said, as though it were an explanation. "Fortunately, my godmother had the good sense to not be deceived by appearances, and raised a son."

Culhourne stared at the shinigami for a moment, eyes watering. "You- You're also-?" He gestured to indicate something had been switched around.

Tousen gave Culhourne a knowing smile. "As I said, you are as much a woman as I am a man."

Culhourne tackled the shinigami, sobbing dramatically. To Baraggan's vast surprise, Tousen did not stab her. To his even greater bewilderment, the shinigami embraced the Arrancar.

"For what it's worth, my godmother did raise a daughter- my sister was a ten-time champion lumberjane at the Amigara Autumn games but couldn't thread a needle to save her life, so it was up to me to learn how to do the mending." Kaname laughed. "I got very good doing scalloped collars and sleeves for her, if you like."

Culhourne sobbed louder, like goose being strangled, and Baraggan rolled his remaining eye and stalked back down the hall, fed up with this saccharine display of sentimentality.

Jesters were supposed to laughable, but that was just pathetic.

---

Years passed, much as they had before but as an arrancar, Baraggan felt them more keenly now- perhaps his knees had always been this sore, but he hadn't had flesh upon them to ache. If he stayed in his throne more and more, it was to remind himself of his rightful place as king, and how this was all but a temporary embarrassment.

And certainly nothing to do with his knees, or propensity for falling asleep in the early evening.

He can see the changes in others though- Gin and Nelliel grew from lanky adolescents to young adults. Szaylel gets weirder. Nnoitra gets worse.

Culhourne... He'll never say it aloud, but perhaps Baraggan had been wrong to call her insistence that she was a woman a delusion, as it seemed to have come to pass. Her hair has grown to the middle of her back, her skin softened and the plunging neckline Tousen had given her shirt now seemed appropriate to house her developing bosom. It's peculiar, but far from the most bizarre transformation taking place. Certainly not compared to whatever was going on with Szaylel.

Eventually, Culhourne reached a point where referring to his Fraccion as "He" made listeners glance at Charlotte's chest, then nod and smile politely and start talking to him like he was senile and he gave up trying to argue with her about it.

Baraggan is holding court- his Fraccion carried him on his throne to survey the completion of the dome over Las Noches, and grace the Numeros and other lesser hollows with his presence.

"...Why has he painted the ceiling blue?" the Young Ulquiorra asked, frowning up at the dome.

"That's the color of the sky in soul society and the living world, where they have regular daytime." Coyote Starrk, the newest arrival explained.

Aizen had taken quite a liking to the strange man and his thoroughly obnoxious ward, but Baraggan had made it quite clear to the interloper that as Secunda Espada, Baraggan was still second only to the shinigami, and Aizen- the primera espada.

"...Yeah! You're absolutely right!" Coyote had nodded, and then Sonido'd out of the room before Baraggan could clarify what rank he held. Still, as an underling, it was right that he handle the menial task of educating the hopelessly naive Ulquiorra.

"You and I are nocturnal but the daywalkers will go insane or very ill without sunlight." Coyote elaborated.

"What, like the... what are they called? Marijuana plants in your quarters?" Ulquiorra frowned.

"Yes!" Coyote nodded enthusiastically. "Also, shut up about those before you get us in trouble!"

"Starrk. You put in an official provisions request for rolling papers." Tousen sighed, appearing behind him. "Anyway, here they are."

"Thanks man..." Coyote winced, taking the box of rolling papers. "Uh, you won't, y'know- mention this to Aizen or Gin-"

"Don't worry darling, he know how to keep a secret!" Culhorne winked. "How was the living world?"

"Loud and expensive, but they had what we need." Tousen replied, handing Charlotte a pair of boxes. "Sorry I can only get a six-month supply at a time. They don't keep them on hand in the 4th Division because Unohana will just surgically swap out the relevant organs."

"...Then why am I helping you with the shots?" Charlotte asked, and Baraggan sat up a bit in his throne to surreptitiously squint at them. Tousen had pulled his coat away to reveal the slit in his hakama over his thigh, and Culhourne was readying a hyperdermic needle.

"She doesn't know yet, and it hurts less when you do it." Tousen replied, bracing himself against the table as Culhourne injected something into his thigh.

"Okay- you can get the ugly little bottle open for me in return." She said, standing up and offering him the other box.

"...What IS that stuff?" Baraggan demanded, curiosity overtaking his sense of decorum.

Culhourne and Tousen both froze, then looked at each other- or at least, Charlotte looked at Tousen and Tousen pointed his face in her general direction.

"Miss Charlotte just administered medication I take for my joints, and I'm getting a bottle of supplements from the living world open for her." Tousen said with an ease that made Baraggan glare.

"Liar." Baraggan snarled as Tousen struggled with the Child-resistant lock for a moment longer, then it came off with a Pop! and he handed it back to Charlotte, who carefully poured the tiny pink pills into a special pink-and-white glass case she had for them.

"I am in fact being entirely truthful- Charlotte's medication is a metabolic supplement that stabilizes and improves her attacks, and mine is a hormone that mitigates some of the damage done to my joints." Tousen said, tone still light, but turning a bit to make his zanpakuto shift on his hip.

"...But why all the way from the living world?" Coyote asked, head cocked. "Er. No offense- I'm sure you've got a good reason, I'm just curious!" He waved.

"Valid question. There are similar drugs in the infirmary here but these..." Tousen paused, deciding how to phrase his explanation. "I suppose it's more accurate to say that Charlotte and I are taking them for the Side Effects." He smiled ever-so-mockingly.

The assembled arrancar all squinted at him, Baraggan unable to make heads or tails of the statement.

Starrk, on the other hand, suddenly cackled. "Oh! I get it- Before Lilynette and I split, we were one or the other or both but like you, it was always on purpose!"

Tousen's smile was genuine this time, and he waved Coyote over.

Baraggan truned Coyote's words over a dozen times more as the three of them continued their inscrutable conversation- Starrk seemed particularly impressed that Tousen was taking his shots out in front of everyone, and Tousen insisting it wasn't a big deal-Coyote was literally the first person to recognize what they are!

"Feh. Let the Jesters have their jokes." Baraggan grumbled, settling back into his throne and sulking.

AEIWAM Question: What do the various Espada Think of Tousen? Follow-up question, will they, the bunch of dumbasses that they are (because Aizen made them for loyalty, not thinking), declare him their unquestioned leader once Aizen, Gin and Urloquia fork off to see the cosmic taffy pull (also presuming that Barrigan winds up face down in a ditch per canon)?

Bless you for asking this, I needed something to chew on. I'm going to answer these one at a time because the post would be insanely long, and how the thought of him Before the Battle of Karakura Probably:

---

Aaroniero and Arruruerie are SURE they've met before, and that they owes the man a debt of gratitude.

It's possible, they suppose. They have consumed and absorbed the memories of so many hollows that maybe they remember the face from a hollow he killed.

At least, that's what they hope is going on.

But they have Nightmares. Not of being pursued by Shinigami but of being the Shinigami in hot pursuit. Dreams of walking through a city, surrounded by humans that adore them. Names and Faces- Rukia and her dipshit older brother, Jushiro with the nice couch they sometimes pass out on after long nights- if Jushiro's husband wasn't already there. ...Memories, of meeting each other, and falling in love. How it felt as natural to look up to her as it was to gaze at the moon. How waking up to him felt as natural as the dawn. Memories of being married by Captain Ukitake, after Tousen had done them the inexplicable favor of organizing the whole party and acquiring wedding rings. He loves organizing things for people. Ukitake had smiled. Especially weddings. I just hope it's not guilt from the one he didn't get to. His husband had frowned.

That's impossible, of course. They know who they are, how they arose from the vile muck in the shadowy pits of Hueco Mundo. They never stood in the sun one late afternoon, to marry, not with how it burns.

...and yet.

There's no harm in being polite, right? They don't mind locking Glottineria in it's scabbard with an audible click when he comes into the room, to affirm lack of hostilities. Or giving him the cup of tea Aizen gives everyone at his insufferable meetings afterwards- it's not like they can drink it! ...And if sometimes, when they've been working late in the lab studying the effects and causes of Hollowfication, when Tousen gets tired and starts to call them "Kaien" and "Miyako"-

-Well, what's the harm in answering in the voices he expects to hear?

#an elephant is warm and mushy #aeiwam #bleach #bleach fanfic #Charlotte Culhourne #Kaname tousen #Kaname tosen #baraggan louisenbairn

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baksuz-art · 3 days ago

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please read the warning, in case you might be sensitive to any of the following: mentions of poverty, non-graphic mentions of health issues, non-graphic mention of a dead animal, people being asses to others in general. sorry, this isn't very live laugh love of me, but it's important. i will keep it short and simple, and i'll try to keep it gentle too. no people, places, sites, etc will be named. lately, i'm not very happy with how some people are treating me. the asks you see on my blog are filtered, of course - you only see me answer to people who are at least able to say please and thank you, aka: decent people. i never have and never will expect anyone to kiss the ground over which i walk, but i don't think it's too much to expect basic manners. what you don't see are tons, and i mean it when i say tons of people who barely treat me like i'm a human. they demand i create for them as if it's my duty to do so. they are very rude in their messages, often requesting things i don't even do. they try to hurry me up, as if i don't have my own life or if i can't be doing something else. they demand i push them forward in the queue. they rudely ask 'where the hell is it already'. some were quite insensitive in their messages when they request i draw their cats - telling me how they don't love their cats, or were thinking of getting rid of them, or prefer some other pet over their cat, etc, which was all enough to pretty much ruin my day. one motherfucker sent me a photo of their (?) dead cat... as if that's not enough, even though i am a small creator, i have seen people reposting my art without credit, and i have seen one (at least?) person redistributing my colouring pages of all things, which i was sharing for fucking free+. i wanted to be kind and to make people smile. but it seems that some people confuse that for me being an art dispenser. i hate to say it, but i won't be able to keep doing art for free. it's not financially sustainable - it's not just art that i won't be able to do if i keep skipping meals or if i keep missing doctor appointments because i can't afford them, or if i end up unable to buy next T dose. it's also not sustainable for my mental health. imagine how shit it felt to sit with 5$ on my card while people treated me like i'm a machine and sold stuff that i was sharing for free+. imagine someone walking up to you, telling you that your work is worthless, and then taking it anyway. sure, this may change nothing in the end; but even if i never get a single commission again or a single tip, at least i'll be poor while doing whatever i want and without listening to people treat me like dirt. to those who haven't received their askbox drawing - sorry; i don't even know how many of you there are exactly or who everyone is, because there's just... so many of them, man. this isn't easy for me to say, but i will have to be more careful with how i share my art, and i have to value my time and effort the same i value everyone else's. to those who have supported me, even in small ways - thank you, you have no idea how much it means to me.

#baksuz #serious talk #text post #artists of tumblr #artists on tumblr

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kairakeiji · 1 day ago

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note: situationship/fwb!

how do you hate something you once loved?

atsumu used to think this all the time. the way you fooled everyone with stolen moments, silly photos, and lies that made the world believe you were his. he doesn’t deny the way he relished in your touch, in the faux comfort your words gave him, even if you both had no label. you would never truly be his. atsumu made sure of that after his mistake, the mistake that felt like it had taken away the only thing that truly made him sane.

why am i here?

he stands outside your door, uncertain of how he got here. honestly, atsumu swears he blacked out. but somehow, his trip back to his place turned into a supposed wrong left turn onto a road that led straight to your apartment, the place that some part of his brain still believes is home.

he won’t ever forget your last argument. you both never had a label, never defined the relationship, yet there you both were screaming as if you did. he spent one night with someone else, one drunken night that he finds himself regretting more often than not. it was never off the table, it was never fully discussed, despite how much he told you he regretted it, despite how much he told you it was a mistake. yet the way you cried and screamed and hit him in every place you knew he was vulnerable led to the state you were both in now. angered, isolated, with an unknown amount of tension and rage murmuring between you both.

separate, without ever getting the chance to be together.

how do you hate something you once loved?

atsumu stands outside your door, partly paralyzed and dazed out. what if you’re not even home? what if you’re out seeing other people and moving on and forgetting him? a part of him feels pathetic, still wishing for something that never truly belonged to him. a part of him misses you, a part of him still wishes you were still a text or a phone call away, that you could still be in his arms, and that he can live in the false narrative of being yours.

can you even stop loving someone?

he knocks without thinking.

a beat goes by, then another, and then one more. the silence leads to his thoughts running a million miles a minute. one question, one hypothetical, one worry following the next. the guilt hits him again and the silence seems to mock him. he steps back from your door, figure slumping slightly.

atsumu swears he hears the doorknob turn.

the door opens hesitantly, his heart beginning to pound.

and then he sees you.

how do you stop time?

“hey,” his voice doesn’t come out the way he had hoped it would. it’s a bit too high and a little too quiet.

“what are you doing here?” your voice doesn’t come out the way he knows it does. it’s shaky and timid, rather than the typical upbeat tone you carried. your eyes looked swollen, the hoodie you wore covering most of your figure and hair.

his heart sinks, “i wish i could tell you.”

“can you leave then?” his heart drops at the way your voice quivers. “i kind of don’t want to see you right now, i’m sorry.”

“can i ask you something first?” atsumu tries. “one question and then i’ll leave you alone i swear. you never have to hear from me again after that.”

you shake your head, “you know i don’t want that, tsumu.”

tsumu…he loves it when you call him that.

how do you want something so desperately? how do you want something more than anything else in the world and not know how to fully say it?

atsumu steps closer to the door, “so you’ll hear me out?”

the door opens more as you step out of the shadows of your apartment.

“was it real to you?” atsumu questions.

you scoff, “of all things you have to ask me.”

“just answer,” he meets your gaze, and his heart sinks at how sullen your eyes are. “please.”

“of course it was,” you tell him. “i know we weren’t together, well, relationship-wise at least. but i meant everything i said and everything i did.” you shake your head, blinking rapidly. “that’s why what you did hurt so much.”

“i know and-”

“please let me finish,” your voice is gentle, laced with the reassurance he grew to depend on, the same tone you used every time he lost a game or failed a test. “i don’t know what we are…or were. i just knew everything was real,” you meet his eyes. “everything was so real.”

memories play in atsumu’s head. the time he made you ditch your class just to take you to get matcha from the new place that opened down the block. the long afternoons you kept him trapped in a library to actually study. the days he spent in your company, the nights he spent holding you in his arms, exploring parts of you that he knew no one had yet before. the mornings that followed as he used ice cubes to soothe the marks he left on you, the little giggles you left as you found yourself counting each one in the mirror, watching in your reflection as he kissed each one.

“did it feel real to you?”

your question snapped atsumu out of his thoughts.

“of course it did,” he answers almost instantly. “nothing in my life has never felt more real.”

“for so long i never thought you truly cared like that,” you sigh.

“what do you mean?” he questions.

“it felt like i was just another fling of yours,” you explain. “that you’d toss me to the side once you got bored of me. and some stupid part of me thought that maybe that wasn’t the case. that for some reason i managed to strike you differently than any other person you had gone out with.” your gaze moves to the ground. “i guess i was wrong.”

“i wasn’t thinking,” he mutters. “you were right. no one’s ever made me feel as much joy as you. and i’m so sorry things turned out like this.” he runs a hand through his hair. “one dumb mistake, and i feel like i’m losing the one person i feel like i truly love.”

is it possible to find love for something you hate?

he meets your eyes, and he swears he sees them soften. “you love me?”

“i do,” he tells you. “i do love you, and i’m sorry i didn’t say so sooner. i’m so sorry that i never asked you to be mine. i should’ve asked you so so long ago instead of leaving you here like this.” atsumu stretches out his hands. you look down at his hands before looking to him, and he feels like he’s almost begging you to take them.

relief washes over him when you do.

“if you want to forget about me and move on with your life, you are more than welcome to do so,” he tells you. “i mean i deserve it, what i did was so wrong.”

“it was,” you mumble under your breath.

and atsumu doesn’t even have the strength to fight you. he just wants nothing more than to fight for you.

“but, if you can forgive me,” he starts, “then i would love nothing more than for you to be mine. i promise to spend the rest of my days making up for this. whether it’s in matchas or nights together, or study sessions against my will, or convenience store runs, or osamu’s food.” the last portion makes you laugh, and atsumu would give anything to hear it again. “please, if you can find it in you to do so, please give me a chance to treat you right and be mine.”

he lets out a breath, heart thrumming in his chest before meeting your gaze. “what do you say?”

and he feels his heart sigh as you nod.

“okay.”

i am a true situationship survivor who, for some reason, loves writing about them...lowkey telling...

anyway thank you for reading!! <3

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tortillamastersblog · 2 days ago

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Where Light Bends Wrong - Part 5 | Wednesday Addams

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Warnings: graphic depiction of violence, blood, and death

Summary: You’ve kept your secret buried and your power quiet, until Wednesday Addams came to Nevermore and turned your whole world upside down.

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

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The Harvest Festival is overwhelming to say the least. The smell of cotton candy and greasy food hangs in the air like a suffocating cloud, alongside the deafening screams of kids and adults alike. Combine that with the excitement buzzing in the air, which is making my heart race, and the bright, colorful, flashing lights that make my eyes hurt, it’s making me feel lightheaded.

But it’s doing a pretty good job at drowning out Wednesday’s heartbeat in my ears and making me forget about my earlier breakdown.

After storming to my room, feeling angry and absolutely vulnerable at the prospect of Wednesday finding out what I am, anxiety washed over me because I kept thinking about what would happen if she knew—if anyone knew.

I’d be in so much danger. I’d have to leave Nevermore and run and hide for the rest of my life. And all that just as I’m starting to feel at home here.

Enid screeching next to me on the mini roller coaster makes my ears ring, but I keep smiling, pretending I’m okay again even though I’m not.

“That was awesome!” she exclaims when we get off a moment later, and I just nod and let her drag me over to where Ajax and Yoko are already waiting for us to get some cotton candy.

I catch a glimpse of Wednesday and Tyler over at the Balloon Darts booth, which reminds me that she’s planning on running away tonight. Honestly, after what happened this morning and last night, I can’t say I mind anymore. Even though my pendant pulses with warmth when her eyes briefly find mine in the crowd.

Her hair is in her usual braids, but she’s once again out of her school uniform, wearing a big black sweater jacket that comes down to the middle of her thigh and seems to swallow her whole. It works for her though, especially with the fitted black and white striped cardigan she wears underneath, and her black, high-rise slacks.

Wait, what. It works for her?

I clench my jaw and frown at my own thoughts before quickly looking away and turning back to the others, feeling her dark eyes on me for a long while after I’ve turned away until the feeling finally subsides.

A few minutes later, I can’t help but look back again even though I know she’s not there anymore. The unfamiliar twist in the pit of my stomach that follows makes me stuff a handful of candied almonds into my mouth.

Wednesday is trouble, and she’s leaving. That’s that.

Enid, Ajax, Yoko, and I find a spot near the Ferris wheel just in time to watch the firework show, while I continue to stuff my face with almonds.

I’m overstimulated and uneasy, but I can’t exactly leave now because I’m taking the shuttle bus back to the school with the others later, and where would I go now without making them worry about me again? So I try to enjoy the show.

But then, through all the noise and emotional buzz around me, I hear it again—that now familiar heartbeat. But it’s not as calm and composed as it usually is. No, now it’s frantic, and it makes my stomach flip in a bad way.

My pendant also gets hot almost instantly, and before I know it, I’m out of my seat and pushing my way through the crowd toward it, despite the others' confused protests.

I bump into people left and right but don’t slow down until I break through and get to the edge of the fair. I don’t know what I was expecting, but Wednesday is not here despite how loud and near her heartbeat sounded, which confuses me.

I really don’t know what I’m doing or why because I was just thinking it’s for the better that Wednesday is leaving and I literally cursed her out in front of the school this morning and told her to stay away from me, but my legs start moving again.

I run—yes, literally run—toward her heartbeat, now also feeling my chest constrict with fear that doesn’t seem to be my own.

I stumble into the forest, weaving through the trees seamlessly even though it’s dark. The only light illuminating my path every now and then are the fireworks exploding over the trees. And then I break through the underbrush into a clearing, and that’s when I see it.

Rowan, with his arm outstretched, using his telekinesis to pin Wednesday against the trunk of an old oak tree several feet above the ground.

He looks angry and very unlike the timid teenager I knew him to be, while Wednesday looks absolutely bewildered, although somehow still composed in the way only she can be.

For a second I freeze, only half registering that they’re arguing about something, but then her head snaps back and the tendons in her neck tighten as she gasps for breath. That’s when I dart forward at inhuman speed.

I snatch Rowan’s wrists with a bruising grip, feeling his surprise emanate from him before it turns to anger again and he scowls.

“Let her down,” I hiss through clenched teeth.

“You don’t understand,” he seethes, “If I don’t do this—”

He yelps in pain when I tighten my grip and twist his arm. “Let. Her. Down.”

I feel a familiar heat rising in my neck and up my face, and then I see a glimpse of my eyes flickering gold in the reflection of Rowan’s glasses.

His eyes widen, and I hear him set Wednesday down behind me. I let him go and he stumbles backward, pointing at me and stammering, “You’re—you’re—”

But he doesn’t get any further because out of nowhere there’s a roar, and then he’s lifted into the air with a piercing scream before being slammed down again.

The thump of his body hitting the forest floor makes my stomach churn, but then I take in the grotesque, over six-foot-tall bug-eyed monster that attacked him and my blood runs cold.

I back up blindly, stumbling slightly and feeling my knees weaken when Rowan screams as the monster starts slashing into him with its claws, until I feel a hand on my back.

It makes the pendant around my neck burst into gold light that is visible through my shirt, but I couldn't care less about that now with the horror unfolding right in front of my eyes.

Rowan’s screams turn into nauseating gurgling as he starts to choke on his own blood, until his body goes still and I feel the life drain out of him.

The monster snorts and snaps its head around, its oversized eyes landing on me and Wednesday for a second, almost calculating whether to attack or not, until it decides against it and vanishes into the darkness again.

The fireworks have stopped by now, leaving everything eerily quiet and dark, but my eyes have adjusted enough to see in the dark, to see Rowan’s body, limp and lifeless on the ground when he was just standing and alive mere moments ago.

The sight makes my hands tremble and I actually flinch when I feel Wednesday step out from behind me, brushing against my arm softly.

It snaps me out of my frozen state though, and I follow her wordlessly toward Rowan.

She crouches down, seemingly unfazed by the sight, but then I see the faintest twitch in her shoulders, as though she’s uncomfortable.

Her heartbeat is no longer as frantic as it was before, but it’s still faster than normal, yet it’s not what I focus on.

I can’t. Not after what just happened.

I heard the rumors about the monster, and while it creeped me out, I never in a million years thought I’d ever cross paths with it.

And I wouldn’t have, if I hadn’t followed Wednesday. But I wouldn’t have done a lot of things if it weren’t for her, so I shouldn’t be surprised at this point even though she’s been here for less than a week.

“We need to get help,” I finally manage to say around the lump in my throat.

For a moment, I don’t think Wednesday will say anything, but then she nods and gets up slowly.

“Are you... okay?” I ask quietly when she turns around, and I almost want to slap myself because of course she’s not. But then, in what I’m assuming is typical Wednesday Addams fashion, she just nods again, which makes me frown.

Not because she’s saying she’s okay—because I honestly should have seen that one coming—but because she’s so obviously not okay.

She seems unnerved for lack of a better word, but it’s not because of the literal murder we just witnessed.

No, there’s something else going on. I can feel it under her protective layer over her emotions, and I’m guessing it has something to do with why Rowan was attacking her in the first place.

I’m not one to pry though, because I evidently don’t like it when others do it with me, so I don’t ask about it.

We should also really be getting help, so I turn, ready to get away from here as quickly as possible as soon as I’m sure Wednesday is following me. But then she speaks up, which makes me stop and turn back to face her again.

“How did you know?” she asks, standing still with her arms hanging limply by her side, the tips of her fingers swallowed by the sleeves of her sweater jacket. Her eyes are on me, intense and unwavering, but for the first time, I see a flicker of vulnerability in them. It’s so brief, I think I might have imagined it, but I know I didn’t.

“Know what?” I ask, my voice shaking with the adrenaline still coursing through me.

“Where I was,” she clarifies steadily, although there is that flicker of curiosity in her eyes again that I saw last night after she threw her knife at me, and it makes my walls snap up immediately.

She’s still dangerous.

I have no idea why I followed her in the first place. It’s just like with the gargoyle and Lucas Walker’s goon all over again.

“I... saw you vanish with Rowan,” I say, hoping that that’s what happened, or close enough for her to not suspect the fact that I heard and followed her heartbeat.

She looks at me with her once-again unreadable expression, and for a moment I think she sees right through me. But then she just dips her chin in acknowledgment.

I spin around before she can ask anything else, adamant on getting some help now.

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Tag list: @sunshinez4 @protozoario @automaticpatroltragedy @mamas-evil-hag @theallseer97

#x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday series #wednesday netflix

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them-faetale · 2 days ago

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"You think you can outdo me in headology, you jumped-up trinket? You think there's anything you can tempt me with that I haven't fought a thousand times in my own mind? You think I could possibly want *power*?"

Granny swung the chain around her index finger, letting the ring come to rest dangling at the end of it - over the babbling river as it rushed towards a waterfall.

"How many hundred years do you reckon it would take to find you from the bottom of another stream, hm? I don't reckon you've learned to float. Or perhaps I should just hop on a nice little trip down to the sea, take you to see the eleven shipwrights? Nice long way from that stinky mountain. We could miss the whole show, wander off and never ever come back."

She paused, sensing that the belligerent ornament wasn't quite cowed yet.

"It would be just you and me. Just you. And me."

Nanny Ogg glanced at Granny Weathewax with an almost concerned expression, at the tone she heard in that last word. It was that tone that tough old girls like Granny didn't roll out that often. It was reserved for people who hadn't realised how dangerous the old witch was yet, but it spoke volumes about how dangerous she was going to be if they pushed her any more.

Granny peered at the tiny golden ring, which seemed to shrink slightly under her withering glare. The dark whispering quietened in her mind. Her gaze remained steady, expression implacable until the whispers faded away entirely.

"That's better. Now, there won't be another word out of you until we've passed Gondor, will there?"

Silence.

"Will. There."

Nanny Ogg always enjoyed it when Granny used that voice. The way she made a question into a command without anyone ever being able to quite tell what had changed in her delivery of the words. She thought it was rather more impressive than the cheap parlour tricks of that silly Gandalf fellow and his booming voice. And it was much less rude, too.

The little metal circle made a sound like someone had rubbed it with a wet finger - a kind of high pitch squeak that seemed to express fear and a very reluctant agreement. At least, it did to Granny, who huffed, and tucked the ring back into her purse.

"Come along Gytha, we can't be dilly-dallying all day. And pull your socks up."

The two witches headed off at a steady pace.

Gytha Ogg made a noise of excited realisation at an opportunity she could take.

"Ooh, do you think we could stop by Rohan on the way? I heard they have really good mead, and I've not had any really good stuff since The Prancing Pony. Not that it was particularly good, could have used a bit more spice."

"On the way back, lass," Granny said, confidently. "On the way back."

I'm scrolling through Rhianna Pratchett's bluesky and saw her say Granny Weatherwax could probably bend the One Ring to her will.

Now I can't get out of my head this image of her rolling her eyes at all the self-important men at the Council of Elrond and doing it herself because they would just bungle it, giving Gandalf a stern talking-down-to, being jealously unimpressed with Galadriel's treehouse, sending Shelob running, and generally stomping her way across Middle Earth and into Mordor to chuck a piece of jewelry into a volcano.

She would be complaining the ENTIRE time.

#it's been a while since I read any witches books so it's probably not quite right #but I think this is the vibes #Gytha Ogg is a shockingly good Sam replacement i reckon #lotr #lord of the rings #discworld #terry pratchett #fanfic

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vipers-current-obsession · 2 days ago

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When Shen Qingqiu regained his body back from the imposter who had stolen it, his first action was to attack the Beast who had his grubby hands on him.

He didn't know exactly what had happened up to that point, but he did know that he had just had a qi deviation and that he should be waking up on his peak. Instead, he opened his eyes and he was falling off a fucking building. Before he could even think about saving himself, a man grabbed him tight and landed safely with him in his arms.

As soon as he got his bearings, he snapped out, "Put me down." Instead, he felt the arms holding him tighten, so naturally, he lashed out. With his qi still sluggish from the deviation, he didn't make much progress, but Yue Qingyuan and Liu Qingge soon came and the man let him down, if reluctantly. He marched right over to their sides, a little surprised that there was no attempt to grab him.

When he turned around to try to make sense of what the hell just happened, he was surprised to find that he recognized the man who had grabbed him. Luo Binghe. The beast. And yet wasn't he just a boy? The one in front of him was a man, and, he noted, a demon, made obvious from the zuiyin on his forehead.

A fan was drawn to cover his face (why doesn't he recognize it?) as he icily questions what was happening. The beast is crying as he explains that he didn't mean it and that he was sorry, Shizun and don't ever do that again, please.

Useless.

Well, at the very least he knows that he did something he can't remember (hopefully trying to kill that beast).

He bites out, "Can someone who's not incompetent tell me what's going on? What happened after my qi deviation?"

Liu Qingge gave him a strange look, presumably because he's an idiot who doesn't keep track of the goings on of the sect. Yue Qingyuan let out a little gasp and when they clarify which, exactly, qi deviation he was referring to, he starts to herd them, barring the beast, back to their carriages so he could explain everything in private.

At the blatant dismissal of the beast, his tightened fist obviously draws blood, but he storms off instead of lashing out, his face a storm of negative emotions.

As they rode back to the sect, Yue Qingyuan explained what had happened. Apparently, his qi deviation was 6 years (6! Years!) ago. After the deviation, he had awoken with much less memories than before, but he also seemed to have a change of heart. Here Yue Qingyuan hesitated, long enough for the brute to interrupt.

"You were actually likable." he said, with all the grace of a boar. A thousand insults rested on the tip of Shen Qingqiu's tongue in response, but Yue Qingyuan quickly intervened, shooing Liu Qingge out of earshot.

"The deviation did change you quite a lot, which we found suspicious, but none of our tests came back positive for possession. As far as we could tell, the amnesiac was you"

Within his heart, he knew that there was no chance of him being a likable person. He'd rather cut his own tongue off than to insincerely compliment and fawn over others. There wasn't a kind bone in his body. Which, Yue Qingyuan should have known.

As much as he loathed him now, they grew up together. They were thick as thieves back then, even if Yue Qingyuan had eventually abandoned him for greener pastures, he had laughed when Shen Qingqiu picked up a rock to bash another kid's brains in. He had watched him lie, cheat, and steal for just one more coin. He was the one Shen Qingqiu confided in when the anger he felt towards the world was too much. He was the one who witnessed him as his youngest and most naive self, and even then Shen Qingqiu spat at the world without an ounce of kindness.

Anyone else, he could scoff and bite back at for believing he could be kind because he knew they were stupid enough to not know better, but Yue Qingyuan?

"Did that imposter give you everything you wanted?" he asked, deceptively calm.

A wide eyed stare greeted him as Yue Qingyuan froze, as he seemed to always do in the face of questioning. "What?"

He scoffed, "Clearly I was there alongside the imposter, had you tried literally anything I would have been able to regain my body. Instead, you were, what? Content to play house with a stranger as long as he wore my face? A kind and likable me? What a farce. You knew that wasn't me and you did nothing to free me."

In the silence that remained, all he wanted was an explanation. For Yue Qingyuan to say that he tried and failed. For him to say literally anything other than the words that he knew was coming, because when did he ever say anything else?

Yue Qingyuan averted his eyes, like always, and said, "I'm sorry." Like. Always.

Because all that man knew how to do was abandon others in their time of need and then apologize, as if that made anything better.

Whatever, it's not like being abandoned by him was anything new.

#svsss #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #shen yuan #yue qingyuan #ficlet #scum villain

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archaospetryx · 12 hours ago

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Bless @queenie-draws-stuff for allowing permission to use their merch photos bc I need to dissect the silhouettes definitely bc I’m so interested in the characters,,,

I’m in it for the Diligence silhouette but I’m /srs cuz these are so interesting until I buy the print myself or someone deciphers some of the hidden messages cuz we got 2 deciphered))

OK STARTING ON MY BIGGEST HYPERFIXIATION YET,,,

The Gaslight district poster,,,

Ok fellas so thanks to @queenie-draws-stuff zooming in on the pictures I came to notice these silhouettes invading whatever tower these are and I’m gonna try to dissect as best as possible.

The Mother Angel

Very self explanatory that this IS the Mother

Her role is VERY crucial being the one to deliver the egg needed to create a human cuz remember: the picture seen in the lab before Ken burns it down shows Temperance holding baby Mel hatched from an egg so it’s possibly they modified one of her eggs to create the prophesied human

Not much to say cuz I can’t see what she’d do yet since she’s confirmed to still be alive unlike the next few I’ll yap abt

Diligence(don’t tell me it’s not him I know it’s him))

THE QUEEN RETURNS🔥🔥🔥 ITS CANON CUZ THEY LIVED AT THE END BUT I TRUST GLITCH N PARTTIMESEAGULL TO USE HIM WELL🫶🫶🙏✨🫶🙏

The more I look at it the more I’m convinced it’s Diligence OK SO LETS GET TO IT

This is DEFINITELY Diligence(99% chance I’m confident)) bc as far as we know he’s combat-related given his duty is to GUARD the entrance to Paradise lost and the arm shown in this silhouette matches the exact sword he uses to fight Ken

There’s no way another Virtue could be combat related bc as far as we know Diligence has been seen in the front of the Virtue Corp newspaper to rlly solidify that they’re the HEAD guard or at the very least a force to be reckoned with and we’re right seeing as how he could overpower Ken if not for the slip up

When you look at the arm he loses, it’s clear that his RIGHT arm gets chopped off. And the length to where it gets cut off is elbow length. Plus the weapon design matches that of the sword Diligence uses

What bothers me/pos is the left arm. Where are the shoulder pads? Clearly Diligence came back/revived at the end of the pilot and he seemed messed up but either this poster was made BEFORE The final or will foreshadow Diligence’s new form

Plus what is his left arm doing??? I can’t see it correctly so if anyone can clearly see it pls aid a desperate Diligencd fansimp I don’t even see the chains dangling down but trust in Glitch I KNOW this is Diligence esp how both he and Temperance appeared on the announcement for the voice cast and usually that means they’re a part of the main cast whether antag or protag(I’m delusional unless proven otherwise))

Very sure Diligence gets injured once again or something happens to him to get his arm to look weirdly shaped on the left. Cuz the right seems to show the virtue silhouette having something thick on the shoulders while the left seems empty and almost thin-like

Theory is that someone or something punishes Diligence for letting the intruders free thus resulting in the left arm looking weird. Idk not confident abt that but again I cannot stress the right arm cuz it’s EXACTLY the same sword type he uses during the fight and the same length from the elbow

DONT CALL ME CRAZY I KNOW ITS DILIGENCE HE’LL BE PART OF THE MAIN ANTAGONISTS BC HES NOT GONNA LET THOSE ROTLINGS GO AFTER WHAT THEY DID TO HIM

There’s no way it’s another virtue unless proven otherwise cuz as far as we know we were hinted 2 unknown Virtues within one of the news papers showing Diligence n Temperance in it and so far none resemble the silhouette more than DILIGENCE especially with the right sword arm. Their left arms are even exposed and yet none match the silhouette and the CLOSEST we get due to the right arm and the pose is Diligence

Plus the stance. Tell me that virtue isn’t serving without telling me that virtue isn’t serving. Bc let’s be honest Diligence REALLY made the impression of tgd’s prettiest but deadliest enemy yet and ofc the stance shows a level of sass/confidence.

And I can ALMOST see the faintest outline of his hat from the head but pls just let it be confirmed that Diligence will live until the end of the series he has SO MUCH POTENTIAL AND U GET MICHAEL OF ALL PEOPLE TO VOICE HIM LIKE CMON HE NEEDS TO LIVE AT LEAST TILL THE END

In all seriousness tho I rlly hope they use Diligence wisely but more bc he has so much potential being a threat since if the Angel Storm didn’t throw him off balance, he would’ve ended Ken or at the very least capture all of them given how he choke holder that guy

Glitch, Parttimeseagull, I need more Diligence pls

A new Virtue? Or Temperance’s new body

Oh THIS is for my fellow Temperance lovers or at least those looking forward to another new Virtue

AND SPEAKING OF VIRTUES I have a heavy theory abt this being Temperance. I’m 20-30% confident bc of the design alone

Again the ONLY Virtue to wear clothes being Temperance only and his lab coat reaches at least until his ankles which the silhouette does follow along too

However the Silhouette shows multiple wires or tubes wrapped around the body, and its giving off “evil mad scientist” guy and which better candidate than to look no further at Temperance

And ofc the rules of the gaslight district is that NO ONE CAN REALLY DIE so yeah Temperance is definitely suffering inside Ken over and over again and I’m sure one was or another they’ll be back bc who else would finish the weird egg seen in the lab than the head scientist himself?(which this also ties to the next character))

The code seen below them reads “He’s fulltime now” meaning either this is a higher Virtue given Temperance is second to the order of the Virtues(with Diligence ranking 4th)), or it IS Temperance in a new body bc mind you that his body got possibly damaged or burnt along his lab

So there’s a possibility after coming back to Paradise lost, he upgrades his body

Or at the unlikely case this isn’t Temperance, this can possibly be Chastity given the wires do resemble some type of restrain that wraps around the arms and body

This creature

I am SO SO SURE that THIS is the monster/entity we see within the egg hanging above the laboratory.

I have no idea what to say but this looks to be similar to the Mother given the right “arm” looks to be the head of an Angel but a halo is present just above its real head

Betting that this is the “???” Thing in Temperance’s lab/what he’s been creating OR the baby chick that hatches from the egg Mel stole

Friend of mine pointed out how the Mother said that a “legion of angels” will lead/guide Mel to destroying the district/all immortals and potentially it could start from that single chick

It seems bipedal almost so it could be a Virtue-Angel mix abomination. Someone on YT mentioned how it could be the Mecha pope or some form of mech-flesh abomination

SO FAR THATS ALL I HAVE CUZ I NEED TO SPEAK THIS OUT ESP TO MY FELLOW VIRTUE ENJOYERS I SEE U THERE

I mainly wanted to make this solely to yap how Diligence definitely will come back and be part of the main storyline/will be a very important antagonist compared to the other remaining Virtues bc I’m THAT desperate for Diligence but I thought why not try to dissect what else I’ve seen so far

If anyone has the poster plllsss share ur findings bc there’s a code that I can’t crack that’s on the roof of the flies in the middle👇👇

Also this thing here that someone decoded saying “It didn’t grow back”

Now to the “it didn’t grow back” part I’m still struggling on WHO this is meant to be? My brain is rlly all on Diligence but I can’t help but think that out of ALL the immortals who had their limbs blown up or ripped apart— none could compare to Diligence despite the end showing us his limbs are still intact.

Bc he’s the ONLY character to be shown having their limbs chopped off only to grow back as a sword. Tho it would be silly to point this to Joshua cuz man got his head splat by his ex friend😭 but what exactly is this message related to…? Idk…

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wanderlust-in-my-soul · 1 day ago

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The many faces of one-sidedness

I love Heesu in Class 2. But before I delight you with my own opinion on the series, let me tell you that I haven't read the manhwa and am only referring to the series here and perhaps a little discourse on expectations and the shift in the viewership of bl series will follow. I just know I can't write meta without digress.

During the broadcast of the series, I noticed how divided opinions were. While some were crying after the original source and didn't even want to give the series a chance, on the other hand there was a debate about whether it was a good bl series or not and what it should be. I don't understand why adaptations can't be seen as a medium in their own right. While the manhwa forms the basic framework on which the story is built, the adaptation is perfectly allowed to go its own way and use its own motifs, build its own storylines that fit better with a filmed story. An adaptation is still its own story with its own story being told, because a one-to-one transfer will mostly never work. @bengiyo wrote a fantastic meta about it! And if you want to read why Heesu in Class 2 is a lovely queer kdrama, go and check out @lurkingshan and her breakdown of the whole story. But well, I already digress.

Heesu in Class 2 was such a good story about the different ways and difficulties to have a one-sided crush. Take Heesin, for example. Heesin feels like she falls in love with men every other day and always confesses it immediately. According to her logic, you can only get over a crush if you confess. This makes her life both very simple and very complicated. She contributes to the daily, loving chaos in the Lee family. She suffers and loves with all her heart. And it seems like it's no big deal to confess that you like your crush. She seems like the opposite of Heesu, whose queerness doesn't allow him to love and suffer so carefree. He suffers quietly without confiding in anyone, while Heesin can celebrate her heartbreak without expecting anything but pity.

Heejeong is the responsible one. The one who gives up her dreams and her love because of fear. Sometimes loving means daring. You jump into something uncertain and make yourself vulnerable in front of another person. Heejeong wanted to study overseas with her boyfriend, but she got cold feet and lost out on an uncertain future. Instead, she lives her 9-5 everyday life with her siblings, in which nothing really exciting happens. And it doesn't have to be to lead a fulfilling life. But she is not happy. She is still hanging on to her dream and she should be able to at least try to live it or live the life she has dreamed of.

Fear can be a major obstacle. Heesu gives her the advice to do what she wants to do. As the most responsible character in the household, portrayed as the most grown-up, she has so far taken on the role of the parents and moved further and further away from her dream self. She has kept a part of her personality, of her self and her past a secret from her siblings. In the end, she realised that this is her life, which she can only shape on her own. She is the architect of her own happiness. Her unrequited love is not even so much for her ex-partner, who she still sees and who is still a big part of her life, but rather with her missed self that she has always dreamed of having. She has spoken out and faced her fear. She wants to be happy for her own sake and to do this she has to overcome her fear and find herself.

Heejae. For me, Heejae epitomises what it's like when the boundaries between romantic love and friendship become blurred and you're caught in a world in between. Being in love with your best friend is one thing. But being in a relationship with someone you love as a best friend is something else. Just as friendship can turn into love, love can turn into friendship and the process of realising this is often difficult and lengthy. You have got used to each other. You feel comfortable. You think you have everything. But her partner has noticed how things have shifted, that something is missing at the end. So he breaks up with her. He no longer wants to deal with this unrequited love. That's not enough for him. He wants to be loved. Loving as a friend is a wonderful thing, but for most people it is no substitute for romantic love. And sometimes it's not easy to realise that your feelings have changed, especially when you've been carrying and cherishing them for so long.

If you want to read more about these siblings you can read An Ode to HeeSu's Sisters by the lovely @soypim.

The sisters are representations of parts of Heesu. Heesin is the antithesis of Heesu. As a heterosexual woman, she can make confessions of love without receiving direct backlash. At best, she is remembered fondly and makes the person feel good even if the feelings are not reciprocated. She stands in the same spot as Chanyeong and Jiyu. It's so easy for heterosexuals to show their vulnerability. Heesu can't do that. In a homophobic society, it's not easy to tell someone you like them. It might not be remembered as a nice memory, it might be seen as an attack, an event that has negative connotations. It's so much harder for Heesu to be so open in his world. And the series manages to realise this so incredibly well.

Heejeong on the other hand stands for the missed moments, for the what-ifs, for the fact that sometimes you have to dare to take the next step if you don't want to stay trapped in the black hole of yourself forever. It's interesting that Heesu is the one to give her the advice to decide for herself, for what makes her happy, and that she shows him again that this is possible by taking a step into her own, hopefully happy future. You can decide for yourself and that's good. Heesu can also decide for himself and decide not to step into the black hole, but to pull himself out of the swamp and follow his dream. Everyone has their own black holes. Everyone deals with them differently. But trying to be happy should be possible for everyone. And even if you decide to stay in your 9-5 or, well, in your closet, that is totally fine, too. No one should stop you from doing what you want, but it is always good when there are people who support you and cherish the person you are.

Heejae. Heejae is just one step ahead of Heesu. She had her best friend as a partner and didn't realise that love had changed. She wouldn't and couldn't let go and had to wait for her partner to break up with her to realise what was going on. Heesu is caught in a similar dilemma, in love with his best friend and at some point, no longer able to distinguish between romantic and platonic love because it has always been like that. Sometimes you get lost in your feelings. Sometimes you don't realise the shift. Sometimes you need an outsider or the other person to realise this.

One thing I didn't understand is the resentment Chanyeong got. Yes, he had a lot of screentime. But that was perfectly ok. He was not only part of the side-couple, but also one of the most important people in Heesu's life. His best friend and secret crush for years. And the perfect parallel between his own heterosexual world and the queer reality in which Heesu moves. While Chanyeong had this secret crush on Summer without realising it was Jiyu, he breaks dozens of girls' hearts when they realise that he doesn't reciprocate their feelings. For Chanyeong, it's so natural for someone to confess their feelings to him and always have, and his approach to his relationship with Jiyu is also simple. Boy likes girl. Girl likes boy. End of story. And while the two move fearlessly together in their world and bring out the best in each other, Heesu stands alone. He has found a relatively safe anchor with Seungwon and is pretty sure that he would accept him, considering the fact that he has two mothers, but he still has to go through everything alone. He doesn't have the freedom that Chanyeong has.

And while some people have certainly been waiting for Heesu to finally confess his feelings to Seungwon, or vice versa, he first must make peace with Chanyeong. Because this friendship is threatening to drift apart. The friendship is one-sided. And they both realise that. To save them, Heesu has to be honest. And Chanyeong is allowed to react the way he did. He is allowed to be overwhelmed. He is allowed to not know how to deal with the fact that his best friend was in love with him for a long time. It's okay to be human. The important thing is that he talks to Heesu in the end and gives them a chance to readjust their status as best friends. Because Heesu is Chanyeong's best friend, and he wants to be that for Heesu too. It hurts when you feel like you're not the safe haven you always thought you were. It is allowed to have feelings. It is allowed to express them and it was bitterly necessary to do so. And it was just as necessary for Heesu to tell him the truth, because only then did the two of them have the chance to redefine their friendship. It was only through this openness that the one-sided friendship could become an equal friendship again.

Heesu. He says himself that Chanyeong and his unrequited love were his black hole. He had to face it in order to free himself from it, to free himself from the attraction of this well known crush. Because only after he's done that can he be free for the new feelings for Seungwon. I thought it was so great to see how these different infatuations manifested themselves in Heesu. With Chanyeong it was so well-rehearsed, so normal, that in the end he couldn't even know what it was like to just be Chanyeong's friend. The feelings blended together and became a daily mask for Heesu, which he knew exactly how to wear. For Seungwon, on the other hand, these feelings are new. He is helplessly at the mercy of his insecurities, the butterflies and all these new feelings.

I enjoyed seeing him like that so much. And I was happy that he was allowed to be angry with Seungwon. I could understand how he felt so well. ‘Was it fun?’ Oh, I felt that! ‘Do you know how much I struggled by myself?’ Heesu thought he had found a safe place with Seungwon where he could be who he is. And then, in the end, he finds himself alone. Heesu is hurt and finally lets it out. The boy who wanted to please everyone and had advice for everyone, who everyone confided in, but who is alone with his problems has had enough. And it bursts out of him. Fortunately, Seungwon finally manages to open his mouth, apologise and clear up the misunderstanding. And in the end, although not everyone is perfectly happy, they are on the way to a happier future. And every single character was important not only to write a good story, but also to portray the characters genuinely and realistically.

I love my bl bubble and I wouldn't want to miss it. I enjoy watching two boys fall in love and kiss in a world of candy floss and rose-coloured glasses. But I don't forget my roots either. And apart from the whole bl bubble, I think it's great to watch a series from time to time in which queer people are embedded in everyday life and you realise how different experiences in everyday life can be. How difficult it is to move as a queer person in a heteronormative world and how difficult it can be to do the seemingly simplest things for others. Heesu in Class 2 is not a bromance, but a realistic portrayal of queer youth in a society where they can be lucky that people think they are only very bromance-coded when they go to school arm in arm. In other societies, even this gesture would be unthinkable. And as beautifully simple as the bl bubble usually is, I think it's good that such soft tones also exist, which can bring life and the beauty of love in all its tones closer to a larger audience and allow a society to grow up that is more value-free, unprejudiced and open. And an adaptation of a well-known and loved story is the perfect try to give this topic a bigger audience.

I've noticed over the last few months that the bl bubble is more interested in explicit scenes than well-told stories. Why bother with a story in which the protagonists don't even kiss? Why settle for such a bromance when you can just watch two good looking guys make out, fuck the plot. And I'm not saying anything against an interlude of honey on the carpet, it has its appeal, but that doesn't mean I deny a show and its character its queerness just because there's no kissing. Sometimes the quiet sounds are the ones that need to be heard. Sometimes it's the quiet tones that have the most impact. Sometimes it's the quiet sounds that make you understand what it's like outside your own bubble and what difficulties there actually are.

If I only consume media on one side of the spectrum, then I only have a limited field of vision of everything around me. And I understand that not every type of story is to everyone's taste, and that's a good thing. Otherwise it would be pretty boring. But every now and then you should take your head out of your bubble and look around the world. And just because something is not to your liking doesn’t mean it is bad or not well written or not worth to be told.

If you need some inspiration for some queerness in kdramas, @lurkingshan and @twig-tea gave us all a very detailed History of Queer Representation in Modern Kdrama. Thank you for that!

#heesu in class 2 #heesu in class 2 meta #josi watching bl #just my thoughts #well I lost my thoughts more than one time #but it felt good to be back into writing #bl drama #bl series #korean bl #korean series #korean drama #kbl #kdrama

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