#so i try to embrace being earnest as much as possible

[offorestsongs]

sometimes i post something on here and it fully HITS me just how much earnest emotions i am showing to the whole world, and i get so embarrassed that i can't even look at my own blog for a second

[mononijikayu]

blanket kick — fushiguro megumi.

You blinked, momentarily surprised by his sudden and straightforward confession. A smile slowly spread across your face as you took in his earnest expression. “Are you asking me out on a date, Megumi?” His cheeks flushed a deep red, and he nodded vigorously, feeling both exhilarated and embarrassed. “Yeah, that’s what I meant. I know it’s kind of sudden, but I really want to….” Before he could finish, you interrupted with a warm, affirming smile. “I’d love to go out with you, Megumi.”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: Fluff, Romance, First Love, First Date, Comfort, Humor, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Confessions, Mutual Affection, Love, Pining, Cheek Kiss, First Love Panic, Fushiguro Megumi is In Love, Sorcerer! Megumi, Sorcerer!Reader, Megumi and Reader Are A Bit Older, Gojo Satoru is A Father, Genmei Mention Again, I Love Us And Them, I Need To Write it;

WORDS: 8.7k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i adored writing this because megumi come back!!! this makes this future possible where older! sorcerer megumi just has his first date and being able to experience his first love. i am genuinely ahhhhhhhhh, megumi comeback the best thing to me. also i usually write genmei in she/you pov but since reader is in the you perspective, i needed to differentiate. genmei my beloved ily i will write for you and satoru more. but anyway, i love you guys so much!!! i hope you enjoy this!!! 🫶

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IT WAS RARE FOR HIM TO FEEL LIKE THIS. As Megumi stood in front of the mirror, he found himself swallowing hard, his nerves frayed and his heart racing. The reflection staring back at him was both familiar and strange—a young man dressed carefully for his first date, a significant step into uncharted territory. Today was not just any day; it was the day of his very first date, and the anticipation was almost overwhelming.

He adjusted his collar for the umpteenth time, each small movement reflecting his anxiety and eagerness. His normally disheveled dark hair was neatly styled, and his outfit was carefully chosen—a simple yet elegant look that he hoped would strike the right balance between casual and thoughtful.

Despite the preparation, his mind raced with a thousand worries: whether he looked presentable enough, if his nerves would get the better of him, and most importantly, whether he would be able to make a good impression on you.

Megumi’s eyes scanned his reflection, taking in every detail with a critical gaze. He noted how his fingers twitched slightly as he adjusted his tie, how the slight tremor in his hands betrayed his inner turmoil. He had always been confident in his jujutsu abilities, but standing here now, dressed for a date, felt like stepping into a whole new world.

The gravity of the situation settled over him like a heavy blanket. It wasn’t just a date—it was a meaningful gesture, a chance to share a special moment with you, someone who had become incredibly important to him. He replayed the words he wanted to say, the plans he had meticulously made, and the hopes he carried for the evening. The weight of wanting everything to go perfectly was both exhilarating and daunting.

Megumi took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. He remembered the way you had smiled when he asked you out, the genuine warmth and acceptance in your eyes. That memory was a comforting anchor amidst his swirling thoughts. He wanted to make this first date memorable, not just for himself but for you as well. The thought of disappointing you was the last thing he wanted, and that fear only heightened his nervousness.

As he continued to gaze at his reflection, he caught sight of his own eyes—nervous yet determined. He realized that despite all his anxieties, this was a chance he was ready to embrace. It was his opportunity to show you how much he valued and cared for you, to step out of his comfort zone and into a moment that could change everything.

A soft, self-assured smile began to form on his lips as he made a final adjustment to his outfit. He squared his shoulders, lifting his chin slightly, and took one last deep breath. The mirror no longer reflected just a nervous young man, but someone ready to take a step forward, someone who was willing to face his fears for the chance to be with you.

He could remember the day he asked you out. You really didn’t seem to be interested in guys like him, let alone romantic pursuits. But he wasn’t going to know if he didn’t try. Well, that’s what Yuji and Nobara said to him. He had to ask, he had to know what you felt about him. And just go with the flow. But the thing is, Fushiguro Megumi didn’t know what to do with the flow. And with you? He’s going to fail. He knows he will. Because, when it comes to you, he is always defeated. Because he’s too much into you. And the thing is — he doesn’t want to get out.

He thinks he blacked out when he asked you. But when you finally say yes to a date with Megumi Fushiguro, his emotions surge through him like a flood. He’s overwhelmed, not just with happiness, but with a strange mix of excitement and disbelief. 

Fushiguro Megumi feels as if he’s rooted to the ground, yet his heart flutters wildly, making him feel almost ridiculous, like he’s become something other than himself—like a tree, sturdy on the outside, but swaying with the breeze of his emotions. 

He had to take some time to get his shit together. He could only remember what happened, now that he’s already getting his senses in order. Or at least some semblance of it back. It’s hard to do that too, when it comes to you. 

The usual rhythm of punches, kicks, and curses filled the air. You and Megumi moved through the drills with practiced ease, the intensity of the training casting a sense of focus. You were the only ones here today, since Yuji and Nobara were given separate missions. You both still weren’t, since you both had just come home from one.

So, all the agenda today was training strengths instead. He tries to be into the game, he really did. Yet, beneath the surface of the grueling workout, Fushiguro Megumi's mind was far from the physical exertion. He had been wrestling with his feelings for a while now, and it's been hard on him. 

Because you were everything and he…he didn’t know how to cope. But after a long struggle, he knew he couldn’t let you slip away. You were a marvel in his world and he can’t let you slip away. Not right now. Not ever. And so, today, he had decided, was the day he would ask you out.

As the training session neared its end, Megumi found himself glancing at you more frequently, his thoughts racing. His heart pounded with a strange mixture of excitement and anxiety, the weight of his decision pressing down on him like an invisible force. Would you even consider dating him? His thoughts were bleak about it. But…But what if you say yes? Wouldn’t that be a good thing? There’s always that hope.

Finally, as the session concluded and you both took a moment to catch your breath, Megumi cleared his throat, trying to gather the courage to speak. The casual atmosphere of the gym felt oddly charged with tension, and he found himself fidgeting with his training gear, unable to maintain eye contact.

“Hey.” he started, his voice coming out a bit hoarse. You looked over, wiping sweat from your brow, curious about what he had to say.

“Yeah? What’s up?” you asked, giving him a reassuring smile that made his heart skip a beat.

Megumi took a deep breath, his resolve solidifying. “So, I was thinking… Maybe we could, um, go out sometime. Like, on a date. I mean….If you want to. I just, it can be anything—”

You kept looking at him as his words tumbled out in a rush, and as soon as he finished speaking, he felt an immediate wave of relief and nervousness. His heart raced as if it were trying to break free from his chest, and he could hardly believe he had finally said it. The air around him seemed to thicken, the usual sounds of the training area fading into the background.

You blinked, momentarily surprised by his sudden and straightforward confession. A smile slowly spread across your face as you took in his earnest expression. “Are you asking me out on a date, Megumi?”

His cheeks flushed a deep red, and he nodded vigorously, feeling both exhilarated and embarrassed. “Yeah, that’s what I meant. I know it’s kind of sudden, but I really want to….”

Before he could finish, you interrupted with a warm, affirming smile. “I’d love to go out with you, Megumi.”

His reaction was instantaneous. It was as if a floodgate had opened, and all the emotions he had been holding back surged through him. He felt rooted to the ground, his body rigid with a mix of disbelief and elation. Yet, inside, his heart fluttered wildly, making him feel almost ridiculous, like a tree swaying in the breeze of his emotions.

For a moment, Megumi simply stood there, processing your acceptance. The overwhelming joy and relief made him feel like he was floating, and he couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh. He tried to play it cool, but his face betrayed his excitement, his eyes bright with a mixture of happiness and awe.

“Really?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he couldn’t quite believe his own luck.

You nodded, still smiling. “Really. I’m looking forward to it.”

Megumi’s grin widened, and he felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the post-training sweat. “Great. I’ll… I’ll figure out the details and let you know.”

As you both gathered your things and prepared to leave, Megumi couldn’t shake the feeling of joy that seemed to be bubbling up inside him. He had asked you out, and you had said yes. It felt like the start of something new and wonderful, and as he walked beside you, the world seemed to sparkle just a little bit more.

He’s puzzled by his own behavior. It would have been nicer if he was able to say it properly then. Why is he getting so weird in front of you? Why does he suddenly feel like a child, when he’s far from one? He catches himself making silly jokes, laughing too loud, and it embarrasses him. But when he looks into your eyes, he hopes you can see that none of it is meant to be taken seriously—except for the part where he likes you, and saying it out loud feels like moving a mountain.

He always thought he was too shy to be someone’s sun, so he became a cold, distant moon instead, quietly admiring you from afar. But now, lying in his bed, his emotions are anything but cold. They’re a raging ocean, and he’s caught up in waves of blankets, tossing and turning, jumping around like a madman. He imagines himself in a UFC ring, fighting off his embarrassment with high kicks, jabs, and hooks, trying to punch away the nervous energy that’s been building up.

But even as he lets it all out, pounding his mattress like a punching bag, he wishes for an iron to smooth out the tension in his hands and feet, to calm the storm inside him. You’ve already slipped into his thoughts, into the lyrics of his heart, repeating over and over in his mind. His poor blanket has taken a beating, but all he really wants is for you to be there with him, to share in this moment that feels like the beginning of something new and beautiful.

Megumi Fushiguro paced back and forth in his room, his normally calm demeanor unraveling with every step. His mind raced, tangled with a thousand what-ifs that refused to settle. His hands were buried in his hair, tugging slightly as if that might somehow pull the anxiety out of him. You had already said yes—you had actually said yes to going on a date with him. But now, the reality of it all was sinking in, and he felt like he was drowning.

What if he messes this up? What if he says something stupid? What if—

“Wow, you’re really losing it, huh? I’ve never seen you this worked up, Megumi. It’s almost cute.”

Megumi spun around to see Gojo Satoru sprawled out on his bed, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. His mentor’s carefree attitude only heightened Megumi’s frustration. He was sitting primly, drinking some overly sweet soda that he always likes. It was his day off today, now that he was taking some time to just enjoy his day to day from working. Megumi had been glad for him to just rest, but today was a bad day. He will never see the end of it when it comes to Gojo Satoru’s teasing tones.

“This isn’t funny, Gojo–sensei.” Megumi snapped, his voice tight with nerves. “I’ve never done this before. What if I ruin everything? I can’t ruin it with them—”

Gojo waved a hand dismissively, as if Megumi’s concerns were nothing more than trivial worries. “Relax, you’re not going to ruin anything. Just be yourself. You’re already overthinking it, already. Slow down. I doubt they’ll mind if you make a mistake, hm?”

Megumi groaned, the tension in his shoulders refusing to ease as he dropped down onto the bed beside Gojo. He stared at the ceiling, trying to find some semblance of calm, but all he could think about was how easily he could screw this up.

“That’s easy for you to say. Especially with Gen-san around.” Megumi muttered. “You’re always so confident. I feel like I’m going to freeze up the moment I see them.”

Gojo’s smirk widened as he nudged Megumi with his elbow. “Freezing up isn’t the worst thing that could happen. I mean, you could trip and spill something all over them. Or, I don’t know, accidentally insulting their favorite food or something.”

Megumi’s eyes widened in horror as the thought struck him with unexpected clarity. He was mid-adjustment of his jacket when it hit him—a startling realization that sent a cold wave of panic through him. The possibility of something going wrong, of embarrassing himself in front of you, suddenly felt all too real.

He could almost see the scenario unfolding in his mind: a clumsy misstep, an awkward silence, or worse, a complete lapse in composure that would make the date memorable for all the wrong reasons. The dread of potentially making a fool of himself was overwhelming, and his heart raced as he pictured each disastrous possibility in vivid detail.

At that exact moment, Gojo, who had been lounging casually nearby, caught sight of Megumi’s distress. The sudden change in Megumi’s demeanor, from calm to panicked, was impossible to ignore. Gojo’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he watched Megumi’s struggle with the growing anxiety.

“You’re not helping!” Megumi shot back, sitting up abruptly, his heart pounding even harder now.

Unable to contain himself, Gojo burst out laughing, the sound echoing around the room. “Oh man, look at you!” Gojo exclaimed, shaking his head with a grin. “You’re really losing it over this, aren’t you?”

Megumi’s face flushed crimson as he turned to look at Gojo, his initial shock quickly morphing into a mix of embarrassment and frustration. “Shut up, Gojo–sensei!” he snapped, though the edge in his voice was softened by the underlying anxiety. “I’m trying to get this right.”

“Okay, okay,” Gojo said, still chuckling but with a hint of sincerity in his voice. “Seriously, though, Megumi, they already said yes because they seem to like you. Just talk to them like you always do. You don’t need to impress them with anything fancy or overcomplicated. Besides, you’re already way cooler than you give yourself credit for.”

Megumi took a deep breath, trying to let Gojo’s words sink in. He could feel his nerves still bubbling beneath the surface, but maybe Gojo was right. Maybe he was overthinking this. “Is that what you did with Gen–san?”

“Eh? But my wifey already loved me from the beginning, Megumi. What can I say, I’m a charmer?”

“That sounds like an outright lie.”

“I never joke about my wifey!” Gojo Satoru grinned, raising his soda as though to toast.  Megumi rolled his eyes. “You’ll do great, don’t worry. Well, maybe not as well as me.”

“But what if I say something awkward?” Megumi asked, his voice quieter now, almost as if he was afraid to voice his fear.

Gojo shrugged with a grin. “Then laugh it off. You’re allowed to be a little awkward; it just makes you more human. And trust me, they’re probably nervous too. Just focus on having a good time together. It happens like that, hm?”

Megumi nodded at him. “.....Alright.”

Gojo’s laughter continued, his eyes sparkling with a playful glint. “It’s just a date, Megumi! You’re going to be fine. You’ve got this in the bag.” He put a hand on Megumi’s shoulder, his tone shifting to one of mock-seriousness. “There’ll always be more. Slip on the wet floor sign? They’ll giggle and get you another date. I’m sure they’ll give you another shot. You’re a good kid after all, you know?”

Megumi couldn’t help but feel a bit of his tension easing at Gojo’s infectious laughter and his playful reassurances. The sight of Gojo’s exaggerated gestures and the sheer absurdity of his over-the-top reactions reminded Megumi of how he had allowed his worries to spiral out of control.

“Yeah, well, easy for you to say.” Megumi grumbled, though a small, reluctant smile tugged at his lips. “You’re not the one going on their first date.”

Gojo’s laughter finally subsided, and he looked at Megumi with a more sincere expression. “Hm, I’m already past that phase. But well, tip from someone who had their first date, don’t be so bothered about perfection. You’re going to do just fine. Just be yourself, and everything will work out.”

Megumi nodded, taking a deep breath as he absorbed Gojo’s words. Despite his continued nervousness, the reminder that he didn’t have to be perfect—just genuine—helped to calm his racing thoughts. Gojo’s light-hearted teasing had, in a strange way, helped him to gain perspective and regain a bit of his confidence.

“Thanks, Gojo–sensei.” Megumi said, his voice softer but more determined. “I appreciate it.”

Gojo gave him a reassuring pat on the back. “Anytime. Now go out there and make that date unforgettable—in a good way!”

With Gojo’s playful encouragement still ringing in his ears, Megumi took one last look in the mirror, feeling a renewed sense of resolve. The horror of his initial thoughts had given way to a steadier determination, and as he prepared to head out, he felt more ready to face the evening with you, knowing that, despite his nerves, he had the support of his friend.

Megumi nodded, feeling a flicker of confidence take root inside him. “Yeah, I think I can do this.”

“That’s the spirit.” Gojo grinned, standing up and stretching. “Now, go knock their socks off. Just… not literally. Not yet, okay? You guys are still not hitting third base!”

Megumi rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Thanks, Gojo.”

“Anytime, kiddo.” Gojo winked as he headed for the door, turning back with a teasing grin. “Just make sure to tell me all the juicy details afterward.”

Megumi grabbed a pillow and hurled it at Gojo, who dodged it with a laugh as he slipped out the door. Alone in his room, Megumi took a deep breath, feeling the remnants of his panic begin to dissipate. He still felt nervous—how could he not? But with Gojo’s words echoing in his mind, he also felt something else: a quiet determination to make this date something special, something memorable.

And maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out just fine.

“Tell Gen–san I’ll be home late.”

“Hm, okay~ Get home safe, okay? Score a kiss or a hug at least!”

“Shut up!” 

“How about no?~”

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EVERYTHING WAS GOING WELL SO FAR. The evening was warm, the kind of night where the air felt like a gentle caress, and the city was bathed in a golden glow as the sun began its descent. You and Megumi had chosen a cozy, quiet restaurant tucked away in a corner of the city, away from the bustling crowds. It was the perfect place for your first date—intimate, yet casual enough to ease the tension that had been building up since you both agreed to it.

As you sat across from him, you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes kept drifting to your face, lingering on your eyes, your nose, your lips. It wasn’t the first time you caught him staring, but tonight, it felt different—intense, almost as if he was trying to memorize every detail. You could tell he was struggling to maintain his composure, his usual stoic mask cracking ever so slightly.

Megumi cleared his throat and looked down at his menu, trying to distract himself, but the slight flush on his cheeks betrayed him. “So, uh, what do you feel like eating?” he asked, his voice a little too casual.

You smiled, feeling a mix of amusement and fondness. “I’m not sure. Maybe something light? What about you?”

He nodded, still avoiding your gaze. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

The waiter came by, and you both placed your orders. When the drinks arrived, Megumi raised his glass to you, his eyes finally meeting yours. “Cheers,” he said, his voice a little softer now, more sincere.

You clink your glass against his, noticing the way his hand trembled slightly. He took a big gulp, almost as if he was trying to steady himself, and for a moment, you wondered if he was nervous. But then, as the night wore on, you realized it wasn’t just nerves—it was something more, something deeper.

Megumi didn’t know how, but somehow, with you, everything felt easy. It felt easy to get lost in your eyes, to be drawn into the sound of your laughter that seemed to erase every worry from his mind. When he was with you, the weight he usually carried so heavily on his shoulders seemed to lift, replaced by the simple warmth of your presence. It was as if your very existence wrapped around him like a comforting blanket, making the world feel less daunting and more like a place where he could just be himself.

The conversation between you flowed effortlessly, each word building a bridge that drew you closer together. It was as if you were weaving a delicate thread between your hearts, a connection that grew stronger with every passing moment. Laughter punctuated the evening, light and genuine, and Megumi found himself smiling more than he had in a long time. The stories you shared felt like precious gifts, each one revealing a little more of who you were, peeling back the layers of the person he was growing to care for more deeply with each passing second.

And through it all, Megumi felt a sense of ease that was rare for him. It was easy to be with you, to let go of his guarded nature and simply enjoy the moment. He didn’t feel the need to put up walls or keep his distance. Instead, he allowed himself to be present, to savor the feeling of being close to you. Each glance, each shared smile, made him realize how much he had come to value these moments with you—moments that felt like they were meant to be, like they were part of something bigger, something that was just beginning to unfold.

“Remember that time Gojo-sensei tried to teach us how to cook?” you said, grinning as you recalled the chaotic kitchen scene.

Megumi chuckled, shaking his head. “How could I forget? He nearly burned down the entire place. I think that’s the last time we'll let him anywhere near a stove.”

“You looked so serious, trying to salvage the meal. It was adorable.” you teased, leaning in just a little closer. “I think I still have a picture from that night.”

He hesitated for a second, his usual calm demeanor faltering as a soft blush crept up his neck. “I was just trying to prevent a disaster.” he mumbled, but there was a shy smile on his lips. “And….can you share that picture with me?”

You grinned back at him. “Of course, Megumi. You can keep it in your wallet. And maybe you’ll think of me, hm?”

The moment you said that to him, it was almost automatic, the way he turned scarlet. You just have that way with him, a power that no one else can truly have. He lowered his face for a bit, as though trying to avoid you seeing how red he was. But he knew how obvious he was being. Hiding wasn’t going to work. But…he at least has to try. 

“......Okay.” He mumbled under his breath. 

You grinned even harder as his hands gripped the glass of wine and drank it swiftly. He was cute this way to you, you were sure. And by the way your eyes were following his every move, you were smitten with him as much as you think he is with you. Well, at least you hoped he was. 

As you continued talking, you noticed that maybe you were right with your theory—an unspoken tension that lingered in the air, almost tangible. It was in the way his beautiful blue–green eyes kept finding yours, lingering a bit too long, as if he was trying to memorize every detail of your face. And every time your gaze met, a flutter stirred in your chest, a warmth that spread through you like wildfire.

Megumi’s voice would occasionally falter when you leaned in closer, a slight quiver that betrayed the emotions simmering just beneath the surface. “You’re really good at this.” he said at one point, his tone softer than usual. “More than I thought before.”

“At what?” you asked, tilting your head in curiosity.

“Making me feel… comfortable.” he admitted, his eyes locking onto yours for a moment before he looked away, almost shyly.

A smile tugged at your lips. “I’m glad. I feel the same way with you.”

There was a pause, a brief moment where the weight of what was unspoken hung between you. Then, almost as if compelled by the invisible thread drawing you closer, Megumi leaned in slightly. His hand brushed against yours on the table, just a fleeting touch, but enough to send a spark through you. You lifted your gaze, looking at him as though he was the only one in the world.

“Is it just me, or does it feel like there’s something… different tonight?” you asked softly, testing the waters.

Megumi’s eyes flickered with something deeper, a mix of emotions that he had been trying to keep hidden. “It does.” he agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. “It feels… important.”

You nodded, understanding what he meant. The connection between you had always been there, but tonight, it was as if it had intensified, become something neither of you could ignore. It was a first date, to be sure. But you’ve known him for a long time, and you’ve liked him for a long time. And the more you think about his words, the more you think that he’s liked you longer than you thought. You purse your lips, letting your smile reign.

“You’re good at this,” you whispered to him, your voice soft and full of warmth.

Megumi raised a brow, his curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?”

“Making me feel good,” you replied, a smile tugging at your lips as a blush, as vivid as a scarlet sunrise, bloomed on your cheeks.

Megumi’s eyes widened at your response, the sincerity in your words taking him by surprise. His heart began to beat wildly in his chest, each thump echoing the growing emotions he struggled to contain. For a moment, he couldn’t find the words to respond, too caught up in the way you were looking at him, your expression filled with something that made him feel lighter than air.

“And that’s everything to me.” you added, your gaze unwavering as you spoke.

Those simple words struck him deeper than anything had in a long time. Megumi felt his heart swell with something indescribable—something that made him realize just how much you meant to him, and how much this moment meant to you both.

Megumi felt a rush of emotions flood through him, a mix of awe and disbelief at the way you looked at him—as if he was the only person in the world who could make you feel this way. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat reminding him that this was real, that you were here with him, and that somehow, he had become someone important to you.

He took a slow, deep breath, trying to steady himself as he searched for the right words. “I… didn’t know,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know I could do that for you.”

“You do.” you assured him, your smile softening as you reached out to gently touch his hand. “You don’t even have to try. Just being with you makes me feel… safe, understood, happy.”

Megumi’s breath caught in his throat at your touch, the warmth of your hand sending a shiver down his spine. He felt a lump form in his throat, the weight of his emotions almost too much to bear. “You make me feel that way too,” he admitted, his voice tinged with a vulnerability he rarely showed. “I’ve never felt this way before… not with anyone else.”

You squeezed his hand gently, your eyes never leaving his. “That’s how I know it’s special, Megumi. What we have—it’s real.”

He nodded, swallowing hard as he tried to keep his emotions in check. But the way you looked at him, with such trust and affection, made it impossible to hold back. “I want to be that person for you,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “I want to make you feel good, to make you happy… because you mean everything to me too.”

There was a moment of silence, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you. Then, without thinking, Megumi leaned in closer, his heart racing as he let himself be guided by the pull he felt toward you. He hesitated for just a second, searching your eyes for any sign of hesitation, but all he found was warmth and acceptance.

And in that moment, all the uncertainty, all the nerves, melted away. Megumi closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a tender, hesitant kiss that held all the feelings he had been too afraid to express. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that moment, connected in a way that felt as natural as breathing.

When he finally pulled back, his heart was still pounding, but there was a new lightness in his chest, a sense of calm that he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Thank you,” he whispered, his forehead resting gently against yours. “For letting me be this close… for trusting me.”

You smiled, your hand coming up to cup his cheek. “I wouldn’t want it any other way, Megumi. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

And with those words, he knew—without a doubt—that this was the beginning of something extraordinary.

“Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll ever be able to say what I really feel.” he confessed, his eyes downcast. “I’m not good with words like Gojo or even Yuuji. But with you… it’s different. I want to try. I want to always make you happy. So, I just….”

You reached across the table, your fingers brushing against his hand. “You don’t have to be like them, Megumi. Just be yourself. That’s all I want.”

He looked up at you then, his gaze softening, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The warmth between you grew, wrapping around you like a comforting blanket, and you felt a sense of belonging, a feeling that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

“You know, I’m not even drunk, but I feel like pretending I am.” He gave you a small, almost shy smile, the kind that made your heart skip a beat. “This….this feels crazy. Am I dreaming?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “And why would you want to pretend? And you aren’t dreaming. This is… this is real.”

“Maybe it’s easier to be a little more… honest that way.” he replied, his eyes glinting with a mix of mischief and something else, something darker, more intense. There was a brief moment where you thought you saw the hint of desire flicker in his gaze, but before you could say anything, he looked away, clearly embarrassed. 

“This is making my heart beat a lot. I’m sorry, if I get quiet,” Megumi said, his voice trembling slightly, his cheeks flushed a deep scarlet.

You blinked at his response, a soft laugh escaping your lips. The genuine, almost endearing awkwardness in his words made your heart swell. “I don’t mind,” you reassured him, your smile widening. “But… I just want to say, I’m really glad I can make you feel like this. It… it makes me happy.”

The sincerity in your voice seemed to wrap around Megumi like a warm embrace. He looked at you, his gaze softening as he took in your words. Your reassurance, your happiness at his nervousness, seemed to melt away his apprehensions. He felt a comforting warmth spread through him, a sense of relief and contentment that made him want to open up even more.

“I… You don’t have to worry about it,” Megumi continued, his voice growing steadier, though still tinged with emotion. “I… I only like you, okay? No one else.”

Your eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and delight crossing your face. Megumi’s confession, so simple and earnest, struck a chord deep within you. The fact that he was expressing his feelings so openly, despite his usual reserved nature, made your heart flutter.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. His declaration, so raw and genuine, held a weight that made you realize just how much this moment meant to both of you. You could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the way he was laying his emotions bare, and it made you feel incredibly special.

“Really?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper, as if you were afraid to break the delicate bubble of intimacy that surrounded you.

Megumi nodded, his gaze unwavering. “Yeah. I’ve never felt like this before. It’s just you. Only you.”

Your heart soared at his words, a warmth spreading through you that felt almost like a physical presence. You took a deep breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions that had taken over you. “That means so much to me, Megumi. I feel the same way. I… I only want to be with you.”

A smile slowly spread across Megumi’s face, a rare and genuine expression of happiness that lit up his features. The relief in his eyes was palpable, and for the first time, he allowed himself to fully embrace the joy of the moment.

He reached out, taking your hand in his with a tenderness that spoke volumes. “I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he said, his voice filled with a quiet resolve. “It makes everything feel… right.”

You squeezed his hand gently, feeling the connection between you deepen. “Me too, Megumi. I’m really glad.”

The night seemed to wrap around you both like a warm, comforting embrace. The conversation flowed easily once more, but now it was colored by a new understanding, a shared feeling that made everything feel even more special. With every glance, every touch, the bond between you grew stronger, weaving together the threads of your hearts into something beautiful and lasting.

When you stepped outside the restaurant, the cool night air was a welcome change from the warmth inside. Megumi walked beside you, his hand brushing against yours occasionally, as if he was considering holding it but wasn’t sure if he should. The conversation had slowed, and now there was just the quiet sound of your footsteps and the distant hum of the city.

Finally, you reached your house. You turned to face him, expecting the usual awkward goodbye, but instead, you saw something different in his eyes—a determination, a resolve that hadn’t been there before. He took a deep breath, his hands hovering near your shoulders as if he was about to pull you close. You could see the hesitation in his eyes, the internal struggle playing out in his mind.

“I—” Megumi began, his voice low, almost a whisper. “I’m really glad we did this. And I’ve been wanting to do this for the longest time. I’m glad we managed to do it.”

“Me too.” You grinned back at him, your face tender with warmth for him. “I’m glad you asked me out, Megumi. This was amazing.”

He smiled back just as warmly. “Me too, I really am glad that I—”

But before Megumi could finish his sentence, his phone rang, the sound slicing through the moment like a sudden, jarring interruption. He winced, pulling it out of his pocket with an almost defeated sigh. The light from the screen illuminated his face, which fell as he saw the caller ID.

“It’s… it’s Gojo-sensei.” he said, his voice laced with frustration as he glanced at you with an apologetic look. “He’s asking when I’m coming back home.”

You tilted your head, puzzled by the sudden shift. “Gojo-sensei?” you repeated, trying to suppress a giggle. It seemed that Gojo had an uncanny knack for showing up just when things were getting interesting.

Megumi nodded, his expression a mix of irritation and resignation. “Yeah. I guess he must’ve known I was having a moment. He always seems to show up at the worst times.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Gojo’s impeccable timing. Despite the disappointment of the interrupted moment, you could see how much the evening had meant to Megumi. The mood had been perfect, and the sudden intrusion felt like a cruel twist of fate.

“Don’t worry about it.” you said softly, trying to lighten the mood. “We’ll just have to save the best parts for next time.”

Megumi looked at you, a mixture of frustration and affection in his eyes. “I really wanted to…”

“I know.” you interrupted gently, reaching out to touch his hand. “But we’ve had a wonderful evening, and there’s still so much more time ahead of us.”

He squeezed your hand, a small smile forming on his lips despite his disappointment. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess it’s just typical of Gojo to show up right when things are getting good.”

You laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “He definitely has a knack for that. But don’t let it ruin our night. We’ll just have to make the next one even better.”

Megumi’s gaze softened, his frustration melting away as he looked at you with a renewed sense of hope. “I’d really like that.”

He answered the call, his voice calm but tinged with a hint of annoyance as he spoke to Gojo. You watched as he dealt with the interruption, admiring how he managed to balance his irritation with the warmth he continued to show you.

As the call ended, Megumi pocketed his phone and turned back to you, a sheepish smile on his face. “Well, it looks like I’m going to have to head back soon. But I want you to know… tonight has been incredible. I really appreciate your understanding.”

You smiled back at him, your heart feeling lighter despite the sudden end to the evening. “I wouldn’t have wanted to spend it with anyone else.”

He reached out and gently cupped your cheek, his touch tender and reassuring. “I feel the same way. And I promise, next time, I’ll make sure nothing gets in the way.”

You leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth of his words and the sincerity in his eyes. “I’m looking forward to it.”

You leaned in, pressing a soft, tender kiss to Megumi’s cheek—a simple gesture, but one that seemed to catch him completely off guard. His eyes widened slightly, and he stood there momentarily frozen, as if trying to fully comprehend the warmth of your lips against his skin. The blush on your cheeks mirrored the deep crimson that had spread across his face, and the way he remained still, caught in the aftermath of the kiss, spoke volumes about the impact of that brief, intimate touch.

As you pulled back, your eyes met his with a proud, affectionate smile. The way his posture remained rigid, his gaze lingering on you, highlighted just how deeply your kiss had affected him. It was clear that the warmth of your gesture had left a lasting impression, one that would linger long after you had gone.

“Goodnight, Megumi,” you whispered softly, your voice carrying a note of sweetness as you clutched your bag. The words felt like a promise and a gentle farewell, your smile reflecting the happiness you felt in the moment. “I’ll… I’ll see you around!”

Megumi’s reply came, his voice low and almost wistful, as if he were savoring the final moments of your time together. “Good night.” he said, his tone tinged with a mixture of reluctance and tenderness as you turned to leave.

You glanced back at him one last time before getting into your cab, the evening air cool against your skin as the door closed behind you. As the cab pulled away, you could see Megumi standing there, his gaze fixed on the retreating vehicle, a look of both longing and contentment in his eyes.

Inside the cab, you felt a flutter of excitement and warmth in your chest, a reflection of the connection you had shared. The memory of his surprised reaction, his blush, and the quiet intimacy of the evening would linger with you, a cherished reminder of the bond you were building together.

Megumi, still standing on the curb, felt the lingering touch of your kiss on his cheek, a gentle reminder of the special night you had shared. As the cab disappeared from view, he took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of wistfulness and anticipation. He knew that this evening was just the beginning of something meaningful, and as he turned to head back home, he carried with him the warmth of your smile and the promise of more moments to come.

When Megumi arrived home, the familiar comfort of his apartment greeted him. He closed the door behind him, his mind still drifting back to the evening’s events. The soft warmth of your kiss on his cheek lingered like a gentle, pleasant ache, making it hard for him to focus on anything else.

Gojo, lounging casually on the couch and flipping through a magazine, looked up as the door opened. His eyes sparkled with a mix of curiosity and amusement as he took in Megumi’s slightly distracted state. 

“Hey, Megumi!” Gojo called out, his tone light and teasing. “How was your—”

But Megumi barely registered the question. His thoughts were still wrapped around the soft press of your lips against his skin, the way your smile had felt like a promise. He was caught in a reverie, his hand absentmindedly touching the spot on his cheek where you had kissed him.

Gojo’s brows furrowed slightly as he observed Megumi’s distant expression. “Hey, Earth to Megumi!” he said, raising his voice a notch to grab his attention. “Are you even listening?”

Startled, Megumi blinked, slowly pulling himself out of his thoughts. He turned to look at Gojo, his expression a mix of confusion and bemusement. “Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry. I was… just thinking.”

Gojo arched an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Thinking, huh? You look like you’re in a daze. Did something happen?”

For a moment, Megumi was too wrapped up in the lingering sensations of the evening to fully process Gojo’s question. He simply shrugged, a faint smile playing on his lips. “It was a good night. Really good.”

Gojo eyed him critically, clearly not buying the vague response. “A good night, huh? So, what’s with the goofy grin and the dazed look? Did something happen with your ‘good night’?”

Megumi’s blush deepened, though he tried to hide it by looking away. “Nothing. Just… had a nice time. It’s nothing.”

Gojo’s curiosity was piqued. He walked over, leaning casually against the wall with a knowing grin. “Nice time, huh? So nice that you’re practically glowing. Spill it, Megumi.”

Realizing he wasn’t going to get out of this easily, Megumi sighed, still feeling the warmth from your kiss. “It’s just… there was this moment,” he said, his voice soft. “It was… really special. I didn’t expect it.”

Gojo’s grin widened, clearly enjoying the reaction he was getting. “A moment, huh? Sounds like someone’s got it bad. I’m guessing it was someone special?”

Megumi didn’t meet his gaze, instead focusing on the floor. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

Gojo chuckled, clearly delighted by Megumi’s apparent infatuation. “Well, I’m glad to see you so happy. Even if you’re too distracted to notice my wonderful company.”

Megumi finally looked up, a sheepish smile on his face. “Sorry about that. It’s just… I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Gojo’s teasing expression softened slightly as he clapped Megumi on the back. “It’s fine. Enjoy the moment. And remember, when you’re ready to come back to reality, I’ll be here to remind you how to interact with the rest of the world.”

Megumi nodded, still lost in his own thoughts as he headed to his room. He appreciated Gojo’s understanding, even if he was more focused on the sweet memory of your kiss. As he settled into bed, the warmth of your touch and the promise of more moments like this kept a contented smile on his face, making it clear that tonight had been more than just a good night—it had been the beginning of something truly special.

When Megumi finally made it to his room, he collapsed onto his bed with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling as if seeking answers from the blank expanse above him. The soft rustle of the blankets beneath him was the only sound in the otherwise quiet room.

He groaned, kicking his feet against the blankets in a frustrated display of pent-up energy. “It was so good.” he muttered to himself, his voice muffled as he buried his face in his hands.

The memory of your kiss, the warmth of your presence, and the way you had looked at him—all of it replayed in his mind, mingling with the sting of the missed opportunity.

For a moment, he allowed himself to wallow in the frustration, the feeling of having the perfect evening cut short gnawing at him. But as he lay there, the initial disappointment began to fade, replaced by a quiet, simmering determination.

He turned onto his side, gazing at the dimly lit room with a newfound resolve. The evening had been everything he had hoped for and more, and though it hadn't gone exactly as planned, it had shown him something important. There would be another date, another chance to savor the moments he had missed tonight. And next time, he was determined to make it perfect, to not let anything—or anyone—interfere.

A soft smile touched his lips as he imagined what could be. He pictured another evening, where he wouldn’t have to worry about interruptions, where he could focus entirely on you and the connection you shared. The thought filled him with a sense of anticipation, a promise of something even better to come.

Megumi took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his frustrations lift as he embraced the positive outlook.

“I’ll make sure of it.” he said softly, to no one in particular, as he closed his eyes and let himself drift into a hopeful sleep.

The night had ended with an unfulfilled promise, but it had also planted the seeds for something even more meaningful. As he sank into the comforting embrace of his bed, the thought of you and the evening to come filled him with a quiet, hopeful excitement, making the future seem brighter and full of possibilities. Nothing was impossible with love, right?

________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .

┊ ┊ ⋆˚         

✧. ┊         

⋆ ★

epilogue 

The sun was setting over Tokyo, casting a warm glow through the windows of the Jujutsu High lounge. Genmei and Satoru were lounging on the sofas, sipping on their drinks and chatting about the recent happenings in their lives. The atmosphere was casual, with Satoru’s usual exuberance tempered by a rare, relaxed demeanor.

“You know…..” Genmei began, looking thoughtful, “I’ve noticed that Megumi’s been a lot happier lately. It’s like there’s a spring in his step that wasn’t there before.”

Satoru’s eyes widened with curiosity. “Really? I haven’t seen him smile this much since… ever. What’s the secret?”

Genmei leaned in with a mischievous smile. “Well….something pretty significant event happened recently. I heard in the grapevine that our little Megumi’s gotten a kiss!”

Satoru nearly choked on his drink, cerulean eyes bulging as he set the glass down with a clatter. “He did what?!” he exclaimed, his excitement palpable. “And you’re telling me this now? What happened?”

Genmei chuckled, enjoying the reaction. “Apparently, things went quite well. And, then boom! A kiss!”

Satoru’s face lit up with wild enthusiasm. “A kiss?! Oh man, you’ve got to be kidding me. I can’t believe it.He didn’t tell me! That kid! So, what kind of kiss are we talking about here? A peck on the cheek, or—”

“Just a simple kiss on the cheek, Satoru.” Genmei said, holding up a hand to indicate the gentle nature of the gesture. “But it seems it made quite an impression.”

Satoru’s excitement was infectious. “No way! A cheek kiss making him this happy? Megumi, of all people, is floating on cloud nine over a cheek kiss! I’m going to have to get the details from him myself.”

“Satoru, you’re acting like you weren’t the same way when I kissed your cheek the first time.”

“Uh, that’s not the point—”

Just as Satoru’s animated commentary reached its peak, Megumi happened to walk by the lounge, catching the tail end of the conversation. The mention of a “cheek kiss” made his ears turn a shade of red as he froze in place, his eyes widening in embarrassment.

“What are you guys talking about?” he asked, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

Satoru turned, his grin stretching wider as he saw Megumi standing there. “Oh, Megumi! We were just discussing how you’ve been a lot happier lately. Seems like the cheek kiss you got has had quite the impact!”

Megumi’s face flushed even deeper, and he stammered, “W-wait, you heard that? Who told you? Ah, this is…..”

Genmei stifled a laugh while Satoru’s eyes sparkled with mischievous delight. “Yep, we heard it all! And I have to say, it’s good to see you so happy. It’s like you��ve been reborn or something.”

Megumi’s embarrassment was palpable as he tried to hide his face. “Can we not talk about this? It’s… it’s not a big deal.”

Satoru’s laughter rang out, echoing through the room. “Oh, come on, Megumi! It’s adorable. It’s like watching you grow up right before our eyes.  And hey, if a cheek kiss is what makes you this happy, maybe I should start giving out kisses too!”

“Please don’t do that, Satoru.”

“But wifey!”

“Don’t wifey me. Satoshi would say the same thing.”

“Lies, Satoshi would love his papa’s cheek kisses.”

“Hm, we’ll see what he says when he comes from my mother’s house.”

Megumi groaned, sinking into a nearby chair, hiding his face in his hands. “I swear, if you don’t stop, I’m going to find a way to make sure you never hear about my personal life again.”

Genmei chuckled softly, patting Megumi on the back. “Don’t worry, Megumi. We’re just happy for you. It’s nice to see you smiling for a change.”

As the laughter subsided, Satoru threw an arm around Megumi’s shoulders in a rare display of affection. “Seriously, though, I’m proud of you. Even if it took a cheek kiss to get you to loosen up a bit.”

Megumi gave a reluctant smile, finally lifting his head to meet their eyes. “Thanks, I guess. And… just keep this between us, alright?”

Satoru’s grin softened to a more genuine smile. “Deal. But just so you know, I’m always here if you need to talk about anything.”

Megumi had just shrugged off Satoru’s latest comment with a hint of sarcasm. “No, I think Gen–san’s better with this sort of thing.” he said, nodding towards Genmei.

Genmei’s face lit up with a mischievous grin. “A–ha! In your face!” Genmei declared triumphantly, savoring the moment of victory.

Satoru, always the dramatist, threw his hands up in mock despair. “GAH!? Megumi, you tear your father’s heart!” he exclaimed, his tone laden with exaggerated sorrow.

Megumi rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re not my dad, Gojo–sensei” he retorted, clearly amused despite himself.

Satoru gasped theatrically, clutching his chest as if wounded. “HUH!? Wifey, our son hates me!” he cried out in a tone so over-the-top that it had both Genmei and Megumi laughing.

Genmei sighed, a playful exasperated voice echoes, “What a life to live.”

The playful back-and-forth continued, each remark adding to the tapestry of their lighthearted dynamic. Fushiguro Megumi, despite his earlier embarrassment, found himself caught up in the laughter, the tension of the day melting away under the warmth of their happy home.

[sarahisslytherin]

•❣•୨୧ 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙨 - 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙞𝙞 ୨୧•❣•

benedict bridgerton x princess!reader

summary: you and benedict have been sneaking out every chance you get.

contains: lots of romantic fluff and a dash of whorishness.

a/n: part two of the new series! hope you guys enjoy! PART I

word count: 1.4k

The garden beneath your window is cast in the pale glow of moonlight. The king has retired to his chambers and so have most of the servants. The wind blows gently into your bedroom from the open balcony window, the curtains waving softly as if inviting you out. You stand from your bed, the hairs at the back of your neck standing from excitement. You step out onto the balcony, immediately bathed in moonlight. As you run your fingers across the marble balustrade, you can’t keep your mind from running wild with all the possible scenarios that could play out tonight. You rest your head in the divot of your palm and gaze wistfully out onto the garden before you.

You don’t realize how lost in thought you are until your attention is caught by the rustling of grass. “Princess?” you hear Benedict’s voice call out for you. You look down and meet his eyes. He has only been able to pull this trick – sneaking onto the royal grounds past midnight – a handful of times, so it never fails to surprise you when you find his azure eyes shining beneath your window. He gasps as if the air is taken out of his lungs. “You know, your beauty never fails to take my breath away.”

You laugh incredulously. You have grown accustomed to hollow flattery your entire life and struggle to believe each one of Benedict’s Shakespearean compliments. But you say nothing of it, for the adoration in his gaze is evident and you wouldn’t dare doubt its sincerity. 

“Such a flirt.” you tell him and he smirks boyishly. “Just a moment, I’ll be right down.” You slink back into your chamber and out into the hall. Your white nightgown and floral robes flow as you glide down the crystal-clean stairs and out into the garden. There you find Benedict, his black coat making him seem more mysterious and dangerous than you know him to be. He takes your hands in his own and brings them to his lips, where he places a gentle kiss. “How I have longed to see you, my dear.”

“I feel the same.” you say, still catching your breath. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” You feel more electricity in this simple embrace than you have in years of dancing at balls and being courted by men of royal blood. Benedict smiles;  a sweet, earnest smile. He looks down nervously, fishing something out of his coat pocket before placing a sealed envelope in your hands. 

“For you to read later, when I am gone.” he says, bringing his thumb and forefinger up to hold your chin affectionately.  Though it has been a matter of mere weeks, what began as intense infatuation has inevitably begun to blossom into what can only be described as the purest form of love. The thrill of sneaking off with Benedict, or of reading the poetry he sends you nearly on a daily basis has become a sort of drug to you, a high you will never tire of chasing. However, it is in moments like these, when it is only the two of you and the moon as witness, that are filled with a tenderness that you feel will last forever. You open your palm and try to peek at what is scribbled on the inside of the envelope, cheekily holding it up against the moonlight.

“Very funny.” Benedict clicks his tongue and tickles your ribs, eliciting a laugh from you. “God, there is no sound I love more than that of your laughter. And to know I am the cause of it; well, that it makes it all that much lovelier.”

You smile before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips and pulling away. But the moment is short-lived as Benedict pulls you in for a true kiss, one filled to the brim with passion and yearning, and perhaps a bit of lust. “Now, my dear.” you reprimand him half-heartedly. “We shan’t get carried away.”

“Of course, Princess.” he nods pliantly, but his voice is dripping with mischief as his head dips to plant a trail of kisses down the crook of your neck. He knows all too well that this act never fails to make you weak at the knees. “Surely we are both fully capable of abstaining from our desires, especially such a distinguished woman as yourself.”

“Oh, you are terrible, Benedict!” you push him off you, a scowl on your face. But one look at his roguish face and you are smiling in spite of yourself. “You are terrible and wonderful all at once.” 

“What conflicting reports.” he teases you. You feel as if you could jest this way with him for an eternity, simply laughing and kissing and smiling as lovers do. You try to picture it for a moment, a future with him. Your father would never approve. Benedict is the son of a Viscount and a member of arguably one of the finest families in London, but he has no title and is certainly not of royalty. You fear this love you have only just begun is fated to end sooner or later. But you do your best to push that thought away at present because Benedict is here and lovestruck and gazing at you starry-eyed. 

You awaken when your ladies in waiting rouse you from your sleep. You reluctantly stand and are almost immediately poured into today’s gown, the corset bodice somewhat constricting your lungs. As soon as you are left alone once again, you dash over to your vanity, sitting before the mirror as you rummage through a drawer and produce the envelope Benedict had given only the night before. You rip it open with a letter opener, your eyes eager to take in the words on the page. You recognize it almost instantly. It is a poem dedicated to you, one by Byron.

She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o’er her face; Where thoughts serenely sweet express How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent!

You swoon, nearly sighing as you press the parchment to your beating heart. You decide that to be adored like this is truly one of the greatest kinds of bliss this life has to offer. You reluctantly part with your reminder of Benedict as you are summoned to see the king. The servants seem to be exchanging whispers as you make your way through the endless corridors of the palace in search of your father. You cannot find a cause for it, but there is a growing feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach when you enter his parlor.  You find him in quite a jovial mood, sipping his tea and flicking through the pages of a dusty book. “You called for me, Papa?”

“Ah, yes! My dear, I have news for you.” he says, a wide grin on his weathered features. “Now, I know you will probably not be ecstatic to hear it, but I have found a suitor for you. Well, not truly a suitor. You see, you will be marrying him come summer. It would be an excellent alliance and it is about time you assume your responsibilities as the princess.”

Your heart sinks to your stomach. “Papa! No! You can’t do this to me! You cannot make me marry a total stanger!”

The king’s smile now fades, replaced with an authoritative scowl. “You will do as I say, child. If not for the good of our family, at the very least, for the good of England. You will meet this prince and as the season comes to an end there will be a wedding, and it will be yours. My decision is final.”

You find yourself gasping for breath, turning on your heel to storm out. You find an empty corridor and lean on a wall before sinking down to the palace floor as you weep. There are too many thoughts racing through your mind to count, and the one you cannot cast aside is that of Benedict, with his boyish charm and romantic poetry. It seems your forever with him was doomed from the very start.

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @holdthegirrrl @enchantedbytomandhenry @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @dd122004dd @marvelspogue

[xcerizex]

"I don't know what yearning is."

A doozy trip to the future confuses Cael more than it frightens him.

(young Cael, Cael x little painter, suggestive, super short, self-indulgent, 1k+ words.)

Cael has never quite liked dreaming. He has no control over it, and more often than not they leave him confused. Thankfully, here in the Infinite Empire, dreams are less than scarce.

Still, he can't always avoid them.

So when he opens his eyes to an unfamiliar room, he can't stop his chest twisting in slight annoyance. But when he soon realizes that he can move around with ease and at will, he calms down.

He tries to get out of this dream, searching for a quick way for his spirit to escape, but quickly finds out that he can't do that. Some other spirit seems to be tying his own to this dream. So instead of getting frustrated, Cael takes the opportunity to look around. At least this time, he has the freedom of movement, he is grateful for that at least.

Scanning the area, he takes the liberty to take in his surroundings. It's early in the morning, and the room is decorated with and abundance of trivial and unnecessary things, such as the wind-chime hanging on the ceiling, the vase of blue roses on a coffee table, and a biological being he has identified as a "cat".

As if sensing his gaze, the cat gives him one glance over, stretches itself, and falls down the couch with a loud "THUMP".

The cat yowls at him as if demanding comfort, but Cael ignores it.

He looks up at the ceiling, sensing that his spirit has been tied to whatever is up there. Climbing up the stairs, he makes his way to the upper floor to investigate his current situation. He doubts it's a dangerous one, but it can't hurt to know.

The upper floor is less spacious, and the owner's sense of personality seems to shine throughout the entire house even more. He deduces they must be the carefree and cheerful sort, but when he catches the whiff of wisterias, he figures that there must be more than one person living here.

He reaches the bedroom, sensing that the spirit is here, and he hesitates in front of the door before pushing it open.

...Or at least he tries too, it doesn't work and he falls through the solid instead.

'That's right, I almost forgot this was a dream.'

That was rather careless of him.

He catches himself right before he falls flat on his face, and adjusts himself awkwardly. Mistakes like that while as insignificant as they are, are a sign of impropriety and lack of discipline in the Empire. Had he been back at the base, he surely would have suffered more than a scolding from his supervisors.

But when he looks over at the other side of the room, Cael throat bobs as he can't help but swallow hard.

He recognizes the people sleeping on the bed.

Cael, a seemingly older version of him, has his arms wrapped around a young woman with dark purple hair. He watches as "he" tightens his hold over her, embracing her, and pulling her closer in his sleep almost as if his body couldn't bear to be apart from her even unconsciously. And the woman in turn holds him with as much longing as his older self does, nuzzling closer into the crook of his neck.

But what has him startled are the lack of clothes they wear.

Try as he might to keep a straight face, his ears start to flush a vibrant red, and Cael can practically hear the blood thrumming in his head, distracting him in earnest.

Still, at least he knows why he's here now. He braves a sneak peek at his older self, and again resists from running out of the room. The more he looks at them, the more uncomfortable he feels, and he'd like to get out as soon as possible.

Cael hears the unnaturally annoying biological specimen from downstairs cry like a banshee, which causes the couple to stir in their sleep.

"Hm..."

The girl mumbles incoherently, pressing closer to "him", and Cael feels his waist tingle with some strange feeling he would rather forget, the skin on his body warming at the same spot she touched on a person that wasn't him, even though it technically is. In contrast, the older him doesn't seem to mind at all, and pulls the blanket over them closer, as if to protect the warmth of their closeness, creating a cocoon of affection.

Still, the amount of indecency his older self has indulged in is absolutely blasphemous. Such a clear lack of indecency makes him want to yell out in frustration, in response to all the discipline the Empire has beaten down into his bones.

Cael wonders what sort of future is this, a future where the he can hold someone else with such care and adoration. Is this person free? Bewitched? The latter seems unlikely, knowing how well his mentality has developed a resistance against such attacks.

He almost feels jealous, envy stewing on the inside for a bird that has broken out of its cage.

Cael hears the cat scream again and the other him finally starts to wake, opening his eyes blearily. His loosened grip in turn only makes the girl clutch him harder, as she too starts to gain consciousness.

Whether they could see him or not in his dream form, he doesn't want to find out and finally makes up his mind to flee from the room. As the older him starts to regain his bearings slowly, Cael slowly feels his spirit being unbound, going back to the place where his corporeal form resides. Back to the Infinite Empire.

It contrast to the dream he just had, the room he wakes up to is cold and empty. Empty in a sense that there is not a trace of warmth to be found, not even on the bed he lays.

No surprises there, his body has always been cold to begin with. But maybe that's not the problem.

When Cael finally awakens fully, he is startled. Hands reaching upwards as if trying to grasp something intangible, but he doesn't know what exactly.

He feels an unfamiliar feeling stir in his chest, making him feel hollow, aching, and thinks it may be human desire.

Desire for what?

[islandoforder]

My thing re: Porter was only that he wasn't praising Fig for what he disapproved of with Gorgug. Like, Fig was doing things differently than Gorgug was, and it didn't have anything to do with protecting one's friends or anything like that, it was a matter of embracing fury in order to do so. He's still not a great teacher, though I do think Zac meant "I go into a worry" to be a flaw and that he wasn't looking for someone to just say "that's valid".

brace for a reply that's at least twice as long as intended haha

okay i think we do actually agree on more than we don't - i do think that 'i go into a worry' is a sign of gorgug not being raised to be comfortable with negative emotions, and the ramifications of that (love the thistlesprings, no hate to them, but their hardwon earnest positivity is probably a lot harder to recognise and appreciate as a teenager who has literally the weight of the world on his shoulders a bunch).

the point i was trying to make was about this exchange from porter to gorgug: "Most of what I see from you in class is, your rage is a place that you go to to put your body on the line for your friends. It's very selfless, very noble. Do I see you actually capable of wielding the destructive power of rage, when the chips are really down?"

to me, this reads as porter saying that his rage stemming from his protection of his friends, that selflessness, that loyalty, is not a good enough motivation, that his rage HAS to be destructive to be valued in porter's eyes, even though he has literally established in this conversation that gorgug is v good at the basic tenets of being a barbarian. he's not saying that gorgug isn't using his rage at all, he's explicitly saying that it's not the right flavour of rage for him. this exchange bugs me so much just because his little speech to fig about her paladin powers being inspired by her friends is very explicitly praising the exact same type of selfless nobility and loyalty. it feels even more hypocritical as this is the same convo with gorgug where he says he feels "heartbroken" and the same convo with fig where he says lucilla was too emotionally involved in fig's decisions in an inappropriate way.

i think it's also a bit tricky bc since emily has decided to engage with/agree with porter (and possibly with bts convos with zac there's no way to tell) brennan has (rightfully!) pivoted. it's a good move as a dm of a campaign to react to your players and how they interact with your npcs, but it does lead to a sort of retconning over the points porter was initially making. like on a mechanics of roleplaying level i get it, but if we just look at the character, it makes him inconsistent and hypocritical more than anything.

it's also hard to know where exactly i'm bringing my own feelings about teaching into it, but in this specific scenario, where gorgug is struggling to articulate his rage and negative emotions, i think not only is porter's behaviour to gorgug not helpful but is actively unhelpful, let alone how he acts with and what he says to fig, knowing they're close friends and gorgug will inevitably hear these double standards. i know it worked in the show, but i think that's bc the players chose to have it work, rather than it being a good or healthy method for a teacher to take. i've honestly got other issues with him too, but not on the point you were making so i'm not gonna keep ranting haha

[umbracirrus]

hey its anon again!!! i actually wanted to ask if you had any tips or thought processes behind how you write for balgruuf, more specifically in a romantic context i'm trying to write content for my own dragonborn x balgruuf pairing, but its hard to write it in a way that feels true to his character. the skyrim npc's are barebones ingame, and while balgruuf is definitely given more depth, we still mostly just see a friendly formal side. it's hard to write anything more personal without it feeling out of character. any help is appreciated! i love the way you write him (as i said in my last ask) and i'm drawing a blank

Hello again anon! :)

Specifically in a romantic context... Well, I like to portray him in a way that makes him come across as earnest and in a way gentle. He can most definitely be hot-headed and easily irritated, but when it matters, he cares deeply. When with somebody he truly cares about and loves, he talks in soft and low tones, smiles more - not like big goofy grins, but more like the sort where the corners of his lips just about turn up.

I also believe that he is someone who cares deeply, both in a personal and professional context - my personal headcanon is that he was married once, to the mother of Frothar and Dagny, and losing her, and not long after that losing Nelkir's mother too, makes him almost afraid of love and those sort of connections, so if, or when he finds himself in love he has actually felt that way for a while and those emotions are strong. For that matter, I think that in general Balgruuf feels emotions quite intensely, though he is good at keeping up the facade of calmness and neutrality unless he's angry.

He also feels like the sort of person who will do his best to communicate - he'll try to be honest and won't sugarcoat things, and will think very carefully with his words (he spends his entire day being careful with his words to not drag Whiterun into the war, he's basically a professional at this point - except for when he's angry as above). Part of his honesty means that he will let his partner know if he thinks that they have done something foolish or reckless, but he most certainly will express his relief if they get out unscathed. And that goes for his more private thoughts also, or the sorts of things that are private and should be kept between partners hehe.

Sometimes he'll say or do things which he thinks are for the best for him/his partner, but he will on occasion do something which is most certainly Not, most likely when he's tired or worn down or doesn't know what to do otherwise. But his heart is in the right place.

I also like to think that he appreciates little intimate gestures - both giving and receiving. He spends his days busy and keeping up appearances as Jarl, so little things like fingers brushing in passing, a hand on his shoulder (or vice versa) even if just for a moment, the briefest of kisses when he is working would be greatly appreciated and helps him feel more like a person than just a figure of authority. When in his downtime, an embrace which he can hold and maintain for a short while as his head rests on the other's head or shoulder is like a balm to all of his issues, especially after a long and tiring day.

He will also, in spite of how much of his time is taken up, make an effort to understand what his partner does and enjoys. For example, in my fics Balgruuf will eventually start to familiarise himself with a few things to do with alchemy because Elyse likes to do alchemy as a hobby, and will let her grow flowers which she uses in her alchemy on the Dragonsreach porch/on his balcony, possibly even try to tend to them himself if he has a moment here or there.

I hope this helps! This is the sort of path that I take when trying to write him in this sort of context. I don't know if I've covered everything but this is what I can think of going through a handful of my wips and writings.

I wish you lots of luck for your writing and thank you again for your kind words 💛

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for withholding information from and then nearly killing my colleague...?

My apologies... I... am quite certain that I am in the wrong, here, but a.... new friend of mine is very insistent that I'm not, or worse, that I should have left him to die. I... really do not know what I should do, or how to move on from this, so I..... am seeking external opinions on the matter. I have written quite a bit of context, so this may get a bit long... but you are welcome to skip to the ending paragraph if you would like to read a summary, instead.

I....have so many regrets. The colleague in question, Y (young adult, male), is.... a very strange fellow. I never seem to be able to grasp what he is thinking or why, and he is always full of.... morbid surprises. I think... he does not care very much for himself, and he treats his life as one might treat an old rag. I have been greatly worried on several occasions that he might... do something on impulse that would result in his death — not deliberately but in apathy of the result. He has repeatedly expressed this... obsession with becoming a vampire, which... which unfortunately, I....am.

I don't think I could ever understand how he feels, but I can tell it is earnest, and runs deep into his identity. He has expressed to me that he feels like a monster, and he wishes it were reflected upon the form he lived in, as well. To this end, he has.... been feeding me in hopes of being turned, which I am quite ashamed about, already— as we have a professional workspace relationship already, this felt.... contrary to my values, or... my "scruples", as he tends to call them.

At first, he was hoping that my bite itself would turn him, but... it seems that is impossible. So now, he... continues to feed me, in exchange for my assistance in tracking down the one who turned me. I... admit that I have been... hesitant to help very much, in part because I feared what he might do once we find her. There is no guarantee that she would agree to turn him, and I don't think I could bear the weight of my guilt... if he were to be killed because I led him to somewhere so dangerous. So I... have been investigating in my free time, but I have not made much progress at all, let alone progress that I am comfortable sharing with him, and... he quite understandably had decided that he would only feed me once I return to him with results. I.... I was very accepting of this, as I... I don't like being like this, so I..... don't mind, trying to be a little more human, trying to....avoid this... need of mine. I... want to live a peaceful and ethical life, and... I thought... I had hoped... that I had the strength to do that, even with this body.

I... also have a friend now, a friend that has been a vampire much longer than I, and that... might be able to turn Y safely. However, I..... had avoided telling Y about this friend, M (immortal, female), even though I knew he would want to know.... I.... it felt selfish of me, to deny him the possibility of achieving his dreams, but it was only a slight possibility, and I.... to put it shortly, I had difficulty trusting him to care for himself, and not endanger his life again in impulsive pursuit of these ambitions. If... if M were to put his life in danger somehow, I... felt that he might embrace it, and it...would be my fault, for introducing them.

Except... one day, not too long ago, while I was out with M... I received a call from Y. He sounded distressed, he said that it was urgent, that he was in mortal danger, and to come help him.

I... left M immediately, to go and help, but after a few moments I... thought I heard Y's voice from behind me, and... by the time I turned around, I saw him standing there, in front of M, on the train tracks. He... He wasn't moving, and I could already see the train coming. I.... ran as fast as I could, pressing my limits, I... was so far away, but I didn't have the time to think, and I.... I pushed him out of the way, and the train hit me.

I.... should've thought to be more careful, I should've just.. told him about M, and not betrayed his trust like this, and maybe this... wouldn't have happened. I.... it feels like this is.... all my fault.

I........ don't remember what happened next. Or perhaps that's... a lie I need to believe. Perhaps the problem is that I remember it too well, that it haunts me. The sensations of it all. The time... blurred together, but the.... feel of it all... still burned into my mind like a scar.

...My.....body, this cursed body... rebuilt itself. And.... something.... something happened. I.... For a few moments, I... couldn't see, couldn't think, and.... and having... not eaten for a week, at the time, I... attacked him. I.... I... forcibly took his blood, and... and by the time I came to my senses, he was nearly dead. I... brought him to the hospital, and I've been told that he's... alive, that he will be okay, but I.... feel so horrible about it all.

I... turned in a leave of absence at my workplace, for now. In case... in case I ever muster the resolve to return. M has been... caring for me, in the meantime. She says.... that I have done nothing wrong, but... she also says that I should have left Y to die. I just... feel like I've.... done nothing but use and betray Y, even up to lying to him and nearly taking his life.....

So I... suppose this is where the summary should go. In short, I intentionally withheld information on a new vampire friend of mine from my colleague, who has deeply personal ambitions to become a vampire, which resulted in my colleague meeting her without telling me. In a selfish attempt to... deny him his wishes, I... intervened in their interaction, and ended up getting hit by a train in his place. The... cumulation of these physical stressors on my body, along with... having avoided eating, for a while, caused me to.... temporarily... lose myself, and... I ate and nearly killed him. I brought him to a hospital immediately and he is recovering, but I can't help feeling this could have been avoided if I had just been more honest and worked harder...

Dear tumblr... am I in the wrong? Can I... really live with this?

[22degreehalo]

And so one unintended side-effect of my very... multifandomness (and also tiredness??) this year has been that I'm reading way more fanfic than I usually would be! And I have decided to embrace that haha <3 so I've joined up with the Summer Fic Reading Challenge over at @ficreadingchallenge !

Above you can see my card; as you can see, I've already started ticking things off! I'll list the reviews I've already made now, and then elaborate a bit more on what I plan to do beneath the cut! :)

Soulmates Keep Your Head Up, My Child by Addmon (2.9k, Zuko/Aang) I really love when Soulmate fics add a wrinkle to the canon plot, and this does that perfectly! It makes perfect sense that Zuko and Aang wouldn’t immediately know that they’re each other’s soulmates given that in this universe, the word is written in the speaker’s script, but it’s clear enough that Aang’s is from the Fire Nation and Zuko’s is… something very unique, haha. And it’s structured really well, a nice collection of scenes that are just long enough to get their point across.

New (To You) Fandom work it out with your fingers by Saintsideways (3k, Jim/Bart) This fic is just actually, unfairly good. Blazing Saddles has such a uniquely distinctive sense of style, but this fic captures it perfectly, from the breezy homoeroticism to the nonchalant fourth-wall breaks. A perfect epilogue for the movie!

Under the Influence Just One Taste by Random_Nexus (3.8, Jeeves/Wooster) This is just such a sweet fic. <3 It feels very in-character for them (it’d certainly take a lot to get Jeeves to admit how he feels!), and the pining is very delicious <3

De-Aging/Kidfic Never Been Kissed by Randodoggo (4.7k, Phoenix/Edgeworth) This is so adorable – perfect kidfic!! I love love live how adorably earnest and dorky and slightly annoying kid Edgeworth is, so desperate to be a Good Defence Attorney and uphold the law like his daddy~ And the specific shippiness is so perfect for their ages, haha – and I can only imagine how those two’ll feel looking back on these memories. :’D (But also… off owie the dramatic irony of how happy Miles and Gregory are hurts :’((( )

Only One Bed [podfic of] Touch Therapy by Nomad by OReily42 (58 minutes/10.4k, House/Wilson) I’m honestly shocked I never read this one back in the day when I had my House phase: I sure read enough House/Wilson fics, and this one’s sure popular enough! And for good reason – despite being tagged a ficlet collection, the vignette nature of it really works well to capture these everyday moments between them, making the slow progression of their relationship feel really natural! And the podfic reading was perfect: I sometimes feel self-conscious with these things haha but I honestly got so immersed I didn’t even think about it!

So... as you can see, I am not sticking to one fandom here at all. :'D I'm not even committing to using a different fandom/ship for each square like I usually would with things like this. I really do just want this to be about like... giving me just a little more structure for looking for fics.

This is probably a bit weird, haha, but I've never really been able to relate to those 'I don't want AO3 to have an algorithm, I want it to give me Exactly what I have searched for' posts. To be honest, the sheer amount of possibilities on AO3 has always been a bit overwhelming when it comes to actually looking for fic! (Unless I'm just trying out a new ship and want to survey the field.) Maybe it's because I grew up relying on rec lists and the like? But rec listing just isn't really done nearly as much in current fandom, and that's a whole other post topic haha...

BUT. Though I might know that I like, say, Secret Relationship fic? It usually wouldn't occur to me to search for it like that! But then if I just search by ship, there's so much... And what ship should I even search by?! I am a very indecisive person hahahaha... And I've gotten too much in a habit of like Collecting fics by going through tags and saving them and then never reading them because hhhhh what if there's Another fic I would enjoy more...???

SO. Now, I can pick a trope and think about what ships would fit it and look that right up!!! tl;dr: gameification works. :) And it already has worked on me!!

Also probably-obvious clarification: I'm only reccing for this challenge fics that I actually enjoyed enough to rec. I've also gotten into a habit lately of feeling Guilty when I drop a fic because who am I to judge?? And what about the poor author??? But. I do not have a moral obligation to consume art I'm not into!!!!! And isn't that the whole point of art? Connection? So what if a fic doesn't work for me! I'm sure there are plenty of people out there who will love it!!!! So this is another Reminder Catch: would I be happy to rec this for the challenge? And if not, ehh, maybe I should just cut my losses and try something else.

Onto the prompts!!!

Since it's just a casual challenge, the list of prompts was pretty small; I definitely think it could grow if it's repeated, which ofc I would like it to! :) I did try not to blacklist too many prompts for that reason, so there are a few on there that I wouldn't normally seek out.

In particular, having Time Travel and Time Loop (and right next to each other, if I cared to do bingos!!), and also Space AU and Future AU...... yeah, I think I'll have to interpret Future AU as more of like a post-canon AU sort of thing, hahaha. Would a Modern Day AU of a historical setting count as a Future AU? Though I sorta dislike those on principle... but sometimes they're unavoidable...... hrmhrmhrm.

ANYWAY I started with the prompts that immediately made me curious: gave me fandoms/ships that burst out at me, thinking they'd work well. (Apart from Only One Bed which I technically read before the challenge but shhhhh it's a great fic so I wanted it to still count!!) I've also been combing through the tags of some of the other squares, mainly for the difficult ones like Take Your Fandom To Work AU.

But some of them are going to be simple. I already have two half-read fics which slot neatly into Angst and Hurt/Comfort, though... obviously those are very broad, hahahaha. For BIPOC character I'll probably look up some more Nandor/Guillermo (tho there are plenty of other options), and Author's Oldest Fic would've been intimidating if I hadn't recently been looking up some LJ-era ships like House/Wilson and the 2009 Sherlock Holmes verse, some of which have been retroactively uploaded to AO3 and usually are in fact earliest on their author's lists.

Whump will be interesting since I've had an interest in the trope recently but have read very little of it yet. Meanwhile Rarepair could cover many of my ships... and those ships will also probably offer up a few No Comments fics, too. :') Canon Compliant is interesting since I mostly tend to read fics like that anyway? So I'll try to find something especially fitting for it, like a Missing Scene maybe, or just something that flows directly from the finale (Roy/Jamie/Keeley would be perfect). Gift Giving is surprisingly turning out to be a difficult one just because it's not really a commonly-used AO3 tag and I don't tend to go for pure fluff... But we'll see!!

ANYWAY I'm super excited to get going, and even just coming up with what ships might work well with each of these tags has already been really fun :'D

[tieflingtareon]

My love, are you the devil? (Oh, call me a devil)

Chapter 17 | Words: 3.2k

Summary: Astarion found himself often surprised by his heroic companion. He had one goal. To become the favoured companion of the group, to earn the Tieflings loyalty, to make Tar'eons strength his own. Yet Tar'eon isn't like the usual target of his manipulations. Despite his naivety, he does not seem gullible. There is something very wrong with their 'leader' to begin with. Astarion isn't sure if he wants to control it or eradicate the threat it posed. But can he really do either when Tar'eon himself seems so...unwaveringly kind?

That devil is getting into his head, while others get into Tar'eons. He doesn't appreciate not having the upperhand after years of being at the disadvantage. He will find a way to make him see.

He is the one he should be listening to. Astarion would make it so, no matter the means.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50668558/chapters/127995079

"I want you more than anything."

No matter how much air he pulled into his lungs, there was no relief from the intense ache in his chest, hollowing him out, leaving an even deeper pit inside him.

He's always been terrifying empty. He couldn't remember if Cazador had made him that way, or if he was simply born so.

His breath felt ragged, stuttering and hitching, trying to gulp it down, no matter how painful. Trying to claw at the burning in his eyes, but they kept bleeding - no, kept spilling over as he wiped again and again, frustrated at himself for being so weak. Being so shaken.

He hadn't been flayed. Hadn't been sliced, or hit or had his hair pulled. He hadn't been used against his will, controlled even slightly, there was no reason for tears, but they kept coming.

"Fuck. Fuck," He felt haggard, weary to the bone as he knelt down in the grass - in the abandoned wildflowers. The children hadn't been there when he arrived. It was silent in this small patch of peace, the campfire too far to chase away the shadows. He sat in their cold embrace, the sensation familiar, the grey tones of the world around him all he had ever known before the crash.

He missed the sun. He missed the warmth. He missed the way it dawned upon Tar'eons features in the morning, adding colour to his skin, revealing hints of dark grey alongside the ebony strands at his temples.

He buried his face in his hands, pushing the image of his resting features from his mind. He couldn't take it. He couldn't think about how sweet he was, how kind, how earnest - when all Astarion had been doing this whole time was manipulating him.

"I- I ache for you in ways I can't explain."

Of course he did. Astarion had played his heart like a fiddle, had made every move possible to latch his claws into the man, had promised him sweet nothings with no intentions of keeping them.

Even when realising he wanted the man all to himself, selfish and greedy and possessive, he hadn't considered what he'd do when he was actually faced with his affections. He supposed he had ideas of what it would be like, to have Tar'eon be his and only his, but he hadn't realised that meant handing himself over in return.

He hadn't realised that meant belonging to him too. He hadn't known that the guilt of lying in the first place would eat him up inside. He'd made Tar'eon fall for a person who didn't exist. He would know in time, that the pretty picture he adored, was nothing but a farce. A mask for an immoral, terrified man who hungered for power so he would never need to fear another with it again.

Tar'eon spoke of hunger. Of want. Astarion had been ready to fufill those desires, if only to keep him to himself, but then he...he took it all back. Relinquished himself to the idea of nothing. He didn't know if it was a lie, or a half truth, but he couldn't fathom someone wanting him so desperately yet being okay with never touching him again.

What would they do with their time together? What would fill the evenings? What would fix their arguments? What would keep them close like lovers if not for that? If not for sex?

Astarion wasn't sure what to do with someone who did not want him carnally. With someone who could easily say no at his every offer. How could he say no?

Why hadn't anyone else?

Why had he noticed when he wasn't there? When he didn't mean something he said? When he just went through the motions?

Why hadn't anyone else?

Astarion inhaled sharply, the lump in his throat impossible to swallow around. He didn't want to cry again, but thinking about it all...

He felt raw. He felt betrayed by the past. Resentment for all the people who ignored his desire, or lack thereof. When he looked back at it before, sure he had felt disgust over all the people he laid on his back for, disgust over the fact that he had done so for Cazador.

Now, he felt disgust over the disregard he'd had for his own body. His own heart. The lack of respect for his own dignity. He loathed himself, the thousands of hands, half he couldn't even remember, sullying the only thing he had had to himself. His body. His mind. He let so many do as they pleased, and he had let them.

It's not like he didn't fight in the beginning. By after a couple of lashes, most of the fight left him. He hadn't been raised to endure torment, he'd been soft, been weak, been powerless - and Cazador hadn't cared for building ones endurance in torture. He'd gladly punish his pet for not sitting before he taught them to sit.

He'd let himself become an empty pit of nothing inside. Lost in the corners of his mind more often than not to escape the life, if you could even call it that, he was forced to live, all while putting together the perfect mask to survive. He had let Cazador lord over his every decision for two centuries.

Now, when forced to make one for himself, he was terrified to get it wrong. To pile even more regret onto his plate. How much regret could one carry before they could no longer go on? Could no longer carry it?

"I needed you to know that I care about you."

Astarion's lip wobbled, and he bit down hard, not caring for the pain. A fang through the lip was nothing compared to the horrors he'd sat through, gritting his teeth and letting Cazador strip layers and layers of skin from his body.

He didn't deserve those words. He didn't deserve all the praise, the compliments, the gentle touches and adoring gazes. He didn't deserve Tar'eon. He’d done so many things…things he had regretted once upon a time before forcing himself to be callous to his actions. Tar’eons pure heart had to be infecting him, to make his heart ache for the poor souls he damned to Cazador, even if he could barely remember their thousands of faces.

That moment, that confession - it should have been said to someone else. Someone who would take the man into their arms, who would kiss and whisper mutual affections in return.

His throat had clamped shut in the moment, the world tilting and ears ringing, too panicked to accept any of it. His words, his touch, no matter how gentle, they had burned like acid in the moment.

He had had a nice, simple plan...and it had backfired worse than he ever could have imagined.

He curled his knees to his chest and held them, staring up at he dome above, the faint glow blocking out the shadows, but also the moon. The sun.

His chest ached once more and he closed his eyes. He wasn't quite ready to face anybody just yet, let alone his current roommate.

He stayed there, a weed in the patch of wildflowers, until people began to wake inside the Inn, his ear catching their fumbling and sleepy staggers. Mind foggy, unable to obtain enough peace to meditate and rest, he made his way towards the dock and found a space between some crates, hidden away, and took his place amongst them.

He closed his eyes once more, and tucked his nose against the collar of his silken night shirt. He smelt like flowers and dirt. He smelt like Tar'eon had several hours ago.

He missed him already.

****

"You're quite the escape artist." Astarion squinted as he opened his eyes, becoming aware of the presence before him. He pursed his lips at the sight of the fiery barbarian, giving a small groan as he sat up properly. His back regretted the awkward position against the crates while he slept.

"Karlach. What do I owe the pleasure?" Astarion put on his most casual of smiles, charming as always, acting as if he wasn't hiding like a child. It was hard to be casual though with his elbow digging into his side as he tried to shimmy himself out of his predicament. It was easier to get into the spot than it was to get out apparently...

"You weren't at breakfast." Karalch crossed his arms over her chest and Astarion rolled his eyes.

"I don't exactly eat the same foods as you, darling."

"You're always there though, lurking. The whole mood was off, and I know it has something to do with you and Tar'eon."

"Why ever would you think that?" Astarion asked haughtily and Karlach rolled her eyes.

"Because you're hiding between two very large crates, and obviously slept here, while Tar'eon looks like someone kicked his puppy and then shot it. It's not hard to put two and two together."

Astarion huffed.

"How did you even find me, you fiend?"

"Oh, I've been searching all morning for you. The rest of them went out to scout the area since they couldn't find you. Tar'eon wouldn't fess up to your lovers tiff no matter how much Shadowheart and I tried to get him to spill the beans." Even when complaining, Karlach still managed to speak her lovers name with a sweet lint to it, like the mere mention of the woman's name burned her heart even brighter.

"Well...You found me." Astarion grimaced. "Help me up already, you know I can't get out." He gritted his teeth in annoyance at her little smile, mirth in her eyes as she offered a hand and pulled him free of his hiding spot. He huffed and dusted himself off. "...Thank you."

It was a reluctant thanks, but a thanks nonetheless. Karlach's smile grew.

"You gonna tell what happened or what?"

"Why should I? It's none of your business." Astarion snubbed her with an up turn of his nose. She didn't seem to take offence to it though.

"Because if anybody can help you with love troubles, it's probably the one in love. Plus, we're friends, aren't we? Even if you're a prickly bastard." She said it with much affection. Astarion clenched his jaw, narrowing his eyes at the woman.

"So you and Shadowheart really did make things official, hm?"

"Well...it's complicated. For a lot of reasons. But I love her. I'm just...waiting until she's ready to say it back. It's hard to be in love with someone who has so many secrets, but...I'm willing to wait until she's ready to tell me them." Karlach looked almost shy, rubbing the back of her neck. "Honestly, I thought I just had to hots for a really attractive friend, but then we...well. When you don't touch anybody for a whole decade, it's hard not to just - crash right into feelings too."

Karlach laughed nervously, the glow of her chest growing physically brighter. She pressed a hand to it and smiled softly.

"I'm sure you get that. Crashing into feelings you're not use to. It can be...scary."

"You have no idea." Astarion sighed, deflating in front of the woman. It was hard to be so guarded around someone as open and honest as her. Her cheerfulness despite her hardships were hard to resent.

"I think I might." Karlach tilted her head to the vampire. "You wanna walk and talk? Might help you feel better. Clear your head.”

"If that your plan? Walk and talk?" It was habit to deflect, to mock. Karlach took it in stride though, throwing an arm around the vampire and forcing him to walk with her.

"Yep! Come on. You know you wanna." Astarion shoved her off after a few paces and huffed, crossing his arms but eventually following her stride. "Whenever you're ready." Karlach smiled, and Astarion truly believed she'd wait as long as he needed.

It took almost a full minute of walking before he broke.

"I've been playing Tar'eon for a fool this entire time, and he told me last night that he...that he cares for me. And shockingly, I feel guilty for it."

"You feel guilt because he likes you? You're taking self loathing to a whole new level."

"Oh shut up." Astarion rolled his eyes as her quip. "I feel guilty because I-...I manipulate him. I charmed him, I lied to him, none of it- none of it was real. I've never done real before, but that's what he...that's what he deserves."

Karlach was quiet, and Astarion found his thoughts spilling from his lips without his consent, unable to bare the silence.

"I put so much effort into making him fall for me, so I could use him, so I could have his favour, and I- I regret it. Not what we...not anything we've done, but my intentions behind it. I wanted his attention to be mine, I wanted his body, I convinced him to give it all to me, Hells, I'm only one he remembers laying with, and that I feel terrible for, also. I cannot even remember my first, if I'm honest. But Tar'eon is the type to cherish that sort of thing. I took that from him. I find myself more disgusted in my past than I have ever been. And truthfully...I'm terrified to accept his feelings." Astarion swallowed hard.

"Because if I accept, it'll be as...me. And I'm not sure if I know who I really am, beneath all the lies. But it's definitely not as pretty as the man I've been presenting him with."

Silence remained between the pair as they walked, and it itched at Astarions skin, her lack of response.

"Well? You're supposed to be giving me advice-" He groused, looking up at her only to find she was smiling sadly at him. How long as she been gazing at him like that? Like he was a soaked kitten in the harsh rains?

Karlach stopped their walking with a gentle hand, turning him to face her as she squeezed his shoulders.

"...From what I can tell, Tar'eon really loves you. And you love him too."

"Well, I...I wouldn't label it as love. I don't particularly believe in that sort of this. Carnal desire and mutual benefit of company though, that...that I can believe in."

"You really don't believe in love?"

"It's hard to." Astarion smiled tightly. "I've spent my whole life telling people I love them, lying to their faces. It's everybody's favourite thing to hear, but it's...a beautiful lie." He was a beautiful lie.

"I don't think you really believe that." Karlach smiled knowingly, looking a bit sad to hear such a thing from his lips regardless. "If you didn't care for him, you wouldn’t feel guilty over hurting his feelings. You certainly take pleasure in hurt other people."

"Because they're just people." Astarion waved her point off with a scoff. "People are selfish and boring and daft. Tar'eon is..." He paused, trying to find the right word. "He's...good. He's...gentle. He would die for us, for anyone, in a heart beat. It's hard not to be fond of him after so much time together."

"You can just admit that you think he's cool." Karlach smirked. "I'm not going to judge you for having feelings in your cold, undead heart."

"None of this matters anyway. I blew my chance." Astarion sighed, shaking his head. "I'm sure right now he's cozying up to Wyll again, or maybe even his new wizard friend."

"Tar'eon? Cozying with someone other than you?" Karlach barked a laugh. "That man doesn't look at anybody the way he does you. He's got a hundred different looks, and half of them I can’t tell what they are, but every time he looks your way, it's always the same expression. Like the world just got brighter with your entrance. Hells, he's most relaxed when you're next to him. That man carries so much tension in his shoulders, I wouldn't be able to crack my axe into him. He gravitates to you like you're the moon and he's the tides."

"You-...You really noticed all that? Is it so obvious?" If it was, how had he missed it?

"You're both obvious!" Karlach laughed once more, cheeks flushed. "You're always so conscious of everyone, even me. I think he's the only one who could sneak up on you. I don't know how you didn't realise your own feelings for him sooner. For all the barriers you put up with the rest of us, you have an open gate just for him." She swung her arms wide open as if to gesture to the giant berth between them.

"If I'm honest, I wish you did open up to us more. Finding out about your scars long after Tar'eon did...It kind of hurt. I assumed we were somewhat friends, you know? That you could trust us with stuff like that. We all have our issues, our own demons - or, devils in mine and Wyll's case. But we're all fighting for the same thing. To be free. Of the tadpoles, and of our tormentors."

Astarion sighed, pursing his lips before smacking them, allowing himself to trust Karlach just a little further.

"It's...it's not easy. I didn't intend to hurt your feelings. Truly. Talking about Cazador...it's hard. Even with Tar'eon." He admitted. "I...I don't know how to make friends. I haven't had any in a long time. I couldn't count a single one that I haven't tried to seduce, if only to keep them a while longer. I'm not someone people want to be friends with, long term."

"Well...You haven't tried to seduce me."

"I certainly considered it."

"As have I." Karlach winked and smiled wide. "I want us to be friends, Astarion. And as your friend, I'm here if you want to talk about things that are...harder to talk about with Tar'eon."

"Don't you tell Shadowheart everything?" He mused.

"No. Some things are easier to tell a friend first, rather than a lover."

"Like your true feelings."

"Yeah. Like those."

"You should tell her. I can tell it's burning you up inside, not being able to say those three little words."

"They're not little at all. I want to scream them every time she smiles at me." Karlach bounced on the balls of her feet, hands clenching and unclenching, so obviously enamoured by the cleric. Just the thought of her put a spring in her step, made her heart beat faster, harder.

"She might not appreciate having them yelled at her, but...saying them nonetheless might ease that final wall between you two. Might make this official."

"And you? Are you going to tell him you accept his feelings?"

"I haven't decided yet if I will."

"Yeah. You have." Karlach's eyes crinkled, amber pools alight.

"I don't like your certainty. This decision is mine, Karlach." He was very protective of his decisions now. His choices. He would make them for himself from now on.

"I know. Just - tell him what you told me. The whole truth. He deserves an apology at least, considering you toyed with his heart on purpose." Karlach gave him a serious look, and only smiled when Astarion gave a reluctant nod, folding his arms over his chest.

"Fine. I will. You're right. He...deserves an apology." Karlach wrapped an arm around him, pulling him into her side.

"See? That wasn't so hard. Baby steps are still steps. Now come on! Enough talk about feelings. I want you to convince His Majesty I'm worthy so I can finally pet a cat."

"You've never petted a cat before?"

"Didn't exactly wanna set the poor creatures on fire."

"Well...that's fair, I suppose." Astarion allowed himself to be dragged along by the barbarian and sighed.

He had much to think about. But he knew Karlach was right. As terrified as he was to face the tiefling, Tar'eon deserved an explanation. An apology.

Depending on how that went...Astarion would have to figure out where to go from there.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Z - ZzZ's

Written for @laurfilijames...I love you and your brilliant mind <3

Words: 938

Pairing: Éomer x OC, Éowyn

Warnings: None

Éomer had always been able to sleep anywhere he laid himself down—it was a rare talent that had ever made people envy him considerably.

Especially his sister—Éowyn being a laughably light sleeper—had cursed him more times than he could count for sinking into the arms of restful slumber so easily.

Tonight though, he found it exceedingly difficult to close his eyes—they were in the middle of the woods on a company “team building” excursion and, even though he did not object to the ambient soundtrack of wildlife and endless, mysterious darkness, he didn’t manage to quiet the roaring within his own skull.

Separated by only two sheets of thin canvas lay the woman of his dreams, mercifully allotted to another department in her daily work routine and thus unable to cost him his job by cruelly distracting him, and he could almost smell her sweet perfume wafting over into the small, damp space of his own tent.

Curled up on himself—for this was the same tent he had been using since he had been a boy much younger and much scrawnier than he was now—Éomer mused about the woman he didn’t dare approach for fear of looking and sounding like an utter fool.

Only a few hours ago, they had been doing trust exercises and he had felt her warm body in his sturdy arms as she let herself drop into his embrace without hesitation—later, when his colleagues had jokingly teased him about his luck, he had immediately laughed it off and pretended as if he had barely noticed the way her form had pressed against his chest trustingly.

It was less pride rather than earnest cluelessness that made him avoid showing his feelings and inclinations too openly—once too often, he had misunderstood people and their intentions in the past and he was now highly reluctant to be caught off-guard.

Surely, she had merely complied with the task put to her. Even if she had lingered a little too long in his hug or if she had purposefully pressed against him just a little too tightly, he would be a self-enamoured peacock for reading anything into that mere possibility.

He was not a bad-looking fellow, he knew, but—compared to her calm efficiency—he ever felt clumsy, uncouth, and foolish. Wasn’t it ludicrous and absurd that his famous confidence deserted him the very moment she walked in, all smiles and soft-spoken jokes?

It was shameful to admit, even to himself, but he really wanted to invite her to have drinks or even dinner with him…if only he had the slightest trustworthy indication of her own willingness to see him as more than just the leader of another department.

She was kind to him—perfectly polite and pleasant—whenever they had dealings with each other but that was not enough for him to truly believe that she would not burst into laughter or recoil in distaste if he expressed an interest in spending time with her outside of work.

The minutes accumulated in beads of sweat on his skin as he continued to chase the peaceful torpor that evaded him stubbornly. Instead, his muddled brain tortured him with recollections of her scent, her voice, and her trusting smile as he had gazed down at her serene face.

Just as he was about to go for a nightly walk to clear his head, a small dot of dancing brightness appeared.

Turning his head ever so slightly, Éomer discovered that the light came from the tent beside his own, dimmed not only by the two cloth partitions but also by a diaphanous piece of fabric the torch was apparently wrapped in.

Nevertheless, he could easily recognise the two silhouettes the flickering glare painted onto the wall of his little temporary abode—one was unmistakably his sister and the other the woman he had an impossible crush on.

Soon, a low, electrifying buzzing resounded—they were talking in hushed voices about Béma knew what!

Try as he might, Éomer could not make out the words that were exchanged between the two ladies, but somehow, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he might have been one of the subjects that were discussed—he knew that fond but mocking peal of laughter escaping Éowyn’s throat much too well not to be taken back to the shenanigans and accidents he had gotten into in his younger days.

She would always cackle at him like that before she helped him put the world back into order.

What terrible trespass or stupid mistake was now laid at his feet?

Mesmerised, he watched the shadow play of his sister sitting—leaning forward eagerly—while the subject of all his desires was speaking animatedly, gesticulating wildly and drawing wide shapes into the immobile air between them.

As their conversation progressed, they grew increasingly tired of keeping their voice down and Éomer could decipher snatches of their conversation—the most betraying being his own name, mentioned at regular intervals—and his fatigued mind tried hard to make sense of the mere glimpses granted thus to him.

“Hush,” his crush cried at some point, plunging forward to clap a hand over Éowyn’s mouth to keep her from bellowing some potentially incriminating statement.

“Never worry,” his sister reassured the other woman with a hint of smugness in her silken voice. “My dear brother is a sound sleeper—he always has been—and so he’ll never know that you fancy him.”

Ah, Éomer thought as his cheeks warmed up and his stomach did somersaults, how fortunate that even the greatest of blessings could sometimes fail.

@fellowshipofthefics Here we have the next one :D

Lots of love from me

@scyllas-revenge here's a bit of Éomer :D

-> Masterlist

[the-owl-tree]

if you mind me picking your brain for more new gen au stuff, i would love to learn more about the scourge x sasha x smoke poly! (triple s poly? lol) how did it become a thing? how long were they a thing before scourge died? were timber and pandora able to get to know their dad before he died? were hawkfrost, mothwing, tadpole, darktail, and darktail's littermates alive when the triple s poly was a thing? did scourge play an active father figure role in their lives? sorry if i'm bombarding you with questions i'm just very curious about lmaooooooooo

NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR QUESTION BOMBARDMENTS!!!!!! the only thing is….i’m definitely winging this one lol i got the pairings and thought oh that is adorable and smacked a canon sticker on them. This is all a hunch of half-baked ideas strung together so good god it might be Too Much (even for the Too Much AU this is lol)

My rough idea is that they all knew each other before the big darkest hour battle. Suburb and city cats, in my hc world, are VERY social and often have very elaborate social nets that they love collecting cats to add to. They have a trade and barter focused culture which adds to this (Princess and Smudge would exchange toys and treats when they’d visit one another). So the three knowing or at least catching wind of one another would be feasible, especially when Scourge starts getting a reputation.

Sasha’s a wanderer who came into the city. BloodClan, in this world, is not as over the top evil lol they’re not as bloodthirsty about borders as the Clans are. If you don’t make trouble, trouble won’t find you. I think she made a few friends before the whole Tigerstar and her thing went down. One of those friends is Scourge, the two hitting it off and becoming decent friends. Sasha is soft spoken but earnest and Scourge is quiet but does well to listen. Flirty banter ensues, what-if feelings start to bubble up, if they weren’t both held up on the possibility of losing their friendship, something more may have happened……BUT ANYWAY-

Another one of those friends being young mom Smoke struggling to raise her kiddo alone. Sasha intervenes because she’s not gonna leave her all by herself and takes her to BloodClan where she gets settled. Darktail would be a BloodClan cat in this, he’s already got punk makeup in most designs, he just needs a spiked collar.

Sasha eventually gets back to wandering and the whole Tigerstar thang happens. My general idea is Scourge survives because this is the indulgence AU actually, he’s cool and I like the idea of them being a cute trio lol ANYWAYS! I think Sasha would get it in her head that Scourge would hate the children because of their father and that leads to the RiverClan debacle. Cue that, she returns to BloodClan….and immediately gets embraced by her two old friends, demanding to know where she’s been and how dare she not visit for MOONS and how worried sick they were.

She sees Scourge’s wounds, the way Darktail is no longer the pudgy kit she’d carried…and she too realizes just how much she missed her friends. Cue an emotional reunion and eventual fall into confession. It’s a natural progression to them, just saying the words they’d all known they wanted to say for a long time. Eventually Sasha is able to tell the truth of what happened and cue more emotions. Scourge offers to retrieve the children but she quietly says they’re probably more at home in RC than they ever would be with her.

Timber is born first and then Pandora. Scourge is a pretty active father in their lives but can be gone for lengths at time settling disputes in the Clan, doing his town hall sessions where cats air out their grievances, and generally ‘taking care’ of troublemakers that don’t want to abide by the rules of the city (he’s not a total softie in, he still kills lol). I think Darktail would try and tag along with his dad and that’s where he starts to get some of his core ideas (that and his growing interest in “”real”” clan culture and his biodad. This one’s tough because vengeance isn’t motivating him anymore so I gotta work something out).

Darktail is the only one aware of his younger siblings, Moth and Hawk aren’t made aware of their existence until later on. I gotta figure that out though lol

This was a fun question!!! I think I’d consider this my very rough base of the trio and will be subject for change once I stop binging shows and do something more productive like work on my too many projects i have going

[hobgoblinsandpeachfuzz]

Tagged by @midnight-octopus !! I don’t know if it’s just Dragon Age OCs or not but I tried to stick to my canon (ish) Dragon Age folks (although I have a lot more xD)

Setah Mahariel (she/her) my canon Warden, died at the final battle, and romanced Merrill and Morrigan. She was very young, very protective, and took up the mantle of leadership with a lot of youthful martyrdom. Despite that, she was a jokester, athletic, and wistful. There is a tendency of those who know her to romanticize her memory, but she was a person, stubborn and rarely listened to others advice.

Mena Aeducan (she/her) is the warden I actually played, so in Canon I have her as the Warden Commander in Awakening, and did travel a bit with the others but I am always iffy there. Political, manipulative, and scheming, but also lonely, romantic, and yearning, she is someone who threw herself fully into the work of being a Warden and making the Wardens (whether or not that was correct) a political powerhouse. In Game she romanced Gorrim and Zevran, but in her canon she was pretty hung up on Gorrim, and went through Sten, Zevran, her advisor in Awakening, and many other lovers, including an occasional Will they won’t they with noted author, Varric Tethras. She does not seem to be keen on settling down based on her actions, though she always says she wants to.

Mariah Hawke (she/her, but honestly is fine with anything), six feet tall, and an enormous presence, she was a once shining, bright flame, full of earnest kindness, single-minded bravery, and an awkward sense of humor and romanticism, now is a broken, wretched person, trying to rebuild themself and her family out of grief. A lot has happened to Mariah and she is not equipped properly to deal with anything healthily—but she is full of love. She and Fenris have twins together (on accident) and while she didn’t mean to leave him in the night with them to chase Corphyeus, she thought it was her responsibility. She considers Bethany, Fenris, her children (Malcolm and Elena), Merrill, Isabela, and Varric her immediate family, and would do anything for them. While Fenris is the love of her life, Varric is her soul mate. They three of them are very understanding of this dynamic, but as we near Dreadwolf, it’s Fenris’s turn to leave for heroics, and Mariah is the one who is left behind. She is not coping okay.

Horns aren’t possible in this 😭 but here is my Babygirl, my everything, Sula Adaar (she/her). A dreamer, a romantic, thrust into leadership and finding that she took to it naturally. Accidentally adept at the game, not a believer, but accepts that people want to see her as the Herald and embraces it (arguably too much), and wants to keep everyone safe so much that she takes far too much on her shoulders (the Well of Sorrows for one thing). Marries her beloved Thom Rainier, and in the eight years until Dreadwolf, has one Gwenyth “Jenny” Adaar-Rainier. Sometimes I like to play with her falling to the dark side with what I like to call Mythula.

Tagging @kalecgos @superrex319 @shimmerbee @kenfergione ! :) edit: Ah!! Also @grumsens and anyone else who wants to do this I swear I typed that earlier!!

[rustiejs]

Honestly, I think a lot of Garak's apparent unwillingness to embrace human culture lay in his exile. He seems like a guy who genuinely does find other cultures interesting, but it's one thing to feel that way when safely ensconced within one's home culture, & another entirely when unwillingly cut off from it.

I think to some degree his claims about Cardassian superiority were in earnest - he is, for better or worse, his father's son - but I think a lot of it was just an expression of how lonely he was, & how deeply he missed his home. Telling Bashir how much better Cardassia was is in part just how he chooses to tease him/flirt with him, & in part how he copes with losing everything. It's a way to express the constant longing without getting too maudlin & depressed about it, a way to remember the good parts. Probably also in part, it's him glossing over the bad bits in his own mind.

I think, once he could return home, that would go a long way towards making him willing to compromise with human cultural values, at least within their home. Once he's home, he wouldn't need to cling so desperately to it. Just being able to go home would have made a relationship much more possible, IMO.

And, I've not read them yet, but I've heard that the DS9 relaunch novels have Garak working towards remaking Cardassia into a more open & humane society. Which implies that Garak did embrace some aspects of human culture. He may not have said so to Bashir, but his actions on that front would surely speak volumes to a Bashir invested in the idea of trying to make a relationship work.

my toxic trait is that even tho I think garak and bashir are totally into each other I just can’t ship them because garak would never allow himself to be happy like that and it all just feels too ooc for him

that man can only pine

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

heartslabyul food for thought

This is just me ruminating and throwing ideas at the wall based on a few bits of canon!

In the Magical Archives, we get some additional lore about the face markings that each Heartslabyul student (excluding the dorm leader) has. It is apparently the dorm leader that determines which student gets which mark and bestows it upon them with a magical stamp. Now, that begs the question… what is the distribution of the suits, and how does the dorm leader determine which student gets which suit?

It’s entirely possible that what suit you get is random and that there is roughly an equal number of each suit, but if that’s the case, then why would the dorm leader specifically be allowed to pick who gets which one? Why allow any choice at all instead of standardizing it?? This leads me to believe that there may be a rhyme or a reason behind the suit assignment.

Something else that’s kind of odd is that the heart and the spade marks are much bigger than the club and diamond marks and are over the eyes whereas the club and diamond marks are squarely under the eyes. Additionally, the heart and the club markings appear on the left eyes, whereas the spade and the diamond markings appear on the right eyes. I wonder if there is additional significance to be found in the size and the placement of the suits, since those aspects of the marks are consistent across even the Heartslabyul mob students.

Maybe (?) the smaller the mark, the higher your level of authority??? This is mostly based on the fact that the dorm leader (with the most authority) has no mark at all, while third years like Trey and Cater have small marks and first years like Ace and Deuce have comparatively huge marks, as older students have more seniority and a theoretically higher “status” than the younger students. (Unfortunately, we don’t have any Heartslabyul second years besides Riddle, who lacks a mark to begin with, to consider in this.)

I don’t think there’s really enough evidence to really accurately determine or guess what the left vs right placement means, but based on just the few main Heartslabyul students we know of… It could be that “left” placement indicates a more earnest personality, whereas the “right” placement indicates someone who hides or rejects a major aspect of themselves (whether Riddle realizes it or not)??? This is exemplified in Cater and Deuce who have “right” marks. The former, Cater, puts on a cheery front to mask his gloomier true self while the latter, Deuce, is trying to move on from his past as a delinquent. They both actively shun or repress a part of themselves that they seem to dislike or find socially unacceptable; the difference is that Cater is still doing it, whereas Deuce has learned to embrace his flaws.

The boys that bear “left” marks, Trey and Ace, are more “direct” in how they present themselves. For example, Ace often speaks candidly to the point where he insults his friends by pointing out their flaws (like how Deuce is uncoordinated). Trey is definitely much nicer and more likely to sugar coat his wording compared to Ace. His strategy is to usually to avoid giving uncomfortable responses rather than come at them head-on, but he’s actually very blunt when it comes to how he understands others. Trey is notoriously one of the few people who can accurately read Cater and Rook’s social cues despite many others falling for Cater’s charms or marking Rook off as “a weirdo”. Indeed, Trey points put that Cater dislikes sweets in front of the first years and helps distract others when Rook feels uncomfortable talking about himself).

Of course, the left and right marks representing those traits would rely on the dorm leader’s judgement being accurate, which… I don’t think Riddle’s is all of the time, so it’s also possible that the left and right placements are associated with something else that Riddle judged about their character at a glance.

Finally, regarding the four suits and their meanings... Well, that’s the one we have the least amount of information on, as we only have one example for each of the main Heartslabyul boys. None of the Heartslabyul mob students really get enough lines to establish whether they have the traits that would mark them a heart, a spade, a club, or a diamond. If I had to make a guess, maybe the suit denotes a strength that the student has?? This whole rambling post actually started because I recently looked into a show called Alice in Borderland, where different suits represent different kinds of games (hearts are games of trust, spades are games of physical abilities, clubs are games of cooperation, and diamonds are games of intelligence). Alice in Borderland absolutely has ZERO connection to Twisted Wonderland, but I began wondering if Heartslabyul used a similar method of categorization for its students all the same.

[oliveroctavius]

idk if its an accurate word since it's not usually intentional, but how do you feel about the queer coding with Eel's gender? (especially in the 2018 comic)

to steal someone else's joke phrasing that puts it well:

I... have complex feelings on the 2018 solo's writing overall. I think my final thesis is: The character decisions were cool enough, but 2018 Plas misses out on some SUPER interesting possibilities by ignoring so much of original Plastic Man's lore.

I hope you sent this ask expecting an essay because you're getting one under the cut. Contains musings on the nature of comedy, "passing", and comics-typical transphobia.

~ ~ ~

I'm going to start with gendered attraction instead of presentation—I think it explains some things.

"The noble chaste hero gets a funny horny sidekick" is an old trope. OG Plas was the neutral hero. He seems actively scared of flirtation.

IIRC his only on-panel kiss is when he lets a lady who electrocutes via kiss power catch him, in order to defeat her (PC #100).

(Including these panels just because they're gorgeously rendered.)

The JLA writes him Like That because they'd decided he was the Horny Sidekick now. This ran into creepy-guy-threatening-women territory quick. 2018 Plas being the bouncer (get it?) at a strip club feels like both a continuation and direct rebuttal to that characterization.

Is there a hard line between queer coding and comedy-driven sexuality?

Comedy often works via expectation/setup -> subversion/punchline. Gender and sexuality standards are a kind of setup. (A man would enjoy attention from a pretty woman. A man would rather not see the Riddler in a thong.) Implied asexuality or bisexuality is then a subversion, a punchline.

I'd say it's on a sliding scale. Mockery wants you to laugh, because the subversion is impossible or unnatural. Earnest representation wants you to nod, because the subversion is possible and acceptable.

Bisexual Plas is in the spirit of the original, somewhere on that sincerity scale. Did I mention an off-panel golden age kiss?

Also, Plas and Woozy lived together and slept in Bert & Ernie beds. Listen: Woozy is a whole pile of transgressions you're supposed to find funny. If you're going for bisexual Plas, why not make him like Woozy and retroactively validate some of those jokes as possible states of being? Just sayin'.

Right, right. Gender. I'm guessing you're thinking of is the parallel drawn between Plas and the explicitly trans kiddo Pado Swakatoon. Seeing the Suave Prince of Pine Street boldly claim such a seemingly silly identity makes Eel decide to embrace Plastic Man.

So I'm disappointed that they dropped something that could make the trans parallel explicit: OG Plastic Man wasn't just Eel in shades. He created a new, permanent face and body for himself both as an expression of identity and a protective measure. Being "outed"--even though he has not physically been Eel for years at that point--nearly loses him friends, his job, and his freedom.

All 2018 Eel is really considering changing is his moral compass. With little else at stake, the parallel feels weaker.

The pressure to "pass" is an (unintentional) theme written all over pre-DCverse Plastic Man. Explicitly related to gender, even: the meanspirited man-in-dress jokes were rarely targeted at Plas even though his job included missions in girlmode.

If a joke is the gap between expectation/reality, "passing" is meeting enough expectations to close that gap. Plas fits the mold enough to dodge most of the 1940s otherwise rampant transmisogyny.

But passing as female is dangerous, too. When Plas takes a woman's place, he's usually trying to act as a lightning rod to a threat targeting her. That's another reason I love the "bouncer for a strip club" thing. They could push his identification with the dancers even further. Skimpy costume, dubiously legal night job, talented physical performer whose intelligence is often underestimated and whose secondary identity puts them at risk for violence...

It's odd. The 2018 series only has Plas take on other forms partially, momentarily, and usually just as a punchline. Passing as other people or innocuous objects to go places unaccosted is usually an entire pillar of his shtick.

When people "clock" him, they tend to shout something like "That's not a table! It's Plastic Man!" But if he's shaped like a table, and acting as a table, it would be just as accurate to say "Plastic Man is a table now" until he resumes his "normal" form. He can be one thing today and another thing tomorrow and all of those things for real.

Your ask uses the word "queer". That word shows up in the oldest comics in its original meaning: out-of-the-ordinary. Those who self-identify as "genderqueer" often do so because they'd rather not define themselves in relation to male or female-ness. "Passing" only has meaning if your goal is to be seen as one of the Expected Categories. What if you're something entirely unexpected?

(At this point I'm just kind of adding vaguely relevant panels to break up my wall of text. Thank you, 70s Plas.)

2018 Plas does briefly turn into Wonder Woman. I don't really know why he does this? Did he want to get tackled? Either way, he talks like Plas Doing A Parody--this isn't really a form he's trying to own.

Later he turns into Harley Quinn, mostly. The artist later apologized for adding serious crotch bulge to how she normally draws Harley. Which could be based, but the "transgression" lasts for just one absurdist sexed-up panel.

Plastic Man is the character it makes least sense to trot out the "men can only ever parody female-ness" jokes on. He doesn't even have toes—what's inside this man's Speedo is a state of perpetual quantum uncertainty.

I love Pado Swakatoon being included in the 2018 comic. But Pado's transition, rejecting identity A, preferring identity B, probably isn't the best lens for reading Eel. Transition doesn't have to be a straight line to a fixed destination; it's slipperier than that.

I'd argue "being Plastic Man" isn't a goal identity; he's just a conveniently safe default for someone who can be anyone. He's more defined his ability and enjoyment of change: the joy of self-determination without boundaries. The joy of being able to change one's mind at any time for any trivial reason. Because it can be helpful, because it can be fun, and because it can be him, all of it.

[amimimi]

sk8 boys would reacting to you pulling them in by their belt

synopsis: you pulling the sk8 babes in by their belts for a kiss

pairings: joe x reader, cherry x reader, reki x reader, langa x reader

warnings: kissing, suggestive themes, swearing

notes: not me just seeing this tiktok trend ...but thoughts are being thunk...❤️ also, i apologize in advance for any grammatical/spelling errors

word count: 1,930

JOE

this flirty ass b*tch 😒

he thinks he’s so smooth...and he is!

i see y’all bar hopping in the early talking stages of your relationship

so you’re seated the bar and you’re kinda annoyed because maybe there are a couple girls who come up to him and offer to buy him a drink? (of course they would, have you seen how he’s built?)

BUT THAT’S NOT EVEN THE BAD PART

this mf get’s up from his stool and starts FLIRTING BACK?? AND YOU’RE JUST SITTING THERE LIKE —🧍‍♀️

but then he turns back to you and see’s the displeased look on your face.

cue joe nervously laughing and gently shooing the other girls away

but you’re already pissed bc like? the nerve of him? and in front of you??

you stare straight past him, leaning your elbow up on the bar table as he stands in front of you. babbling out apologies(?)

if you can even call them that?

“babe, i’m sorry! you know it’s force of habit! i didn’t even get to see what they looked like! and they were being nice! what was I supposed to do? tell them to get gone? i was just being polite to them, i’m a feminist after all 😏—”

b*tch...what?

you feel like you’re getting dumber just listening to him

so you kinda tilt your head to look at him and let your hands settle on the front of his belt

his voice kinda tilts? like it slightly gets a just a bit higher ?

before he can even make a smart ass remark, you firmly tug him towards you and kiss him

he hums in surprise before chuckling into the kiss and bringing his warm, calloused hands up to your face

he pulls away and quickly pecks at your lips before playfully outing

“oof, so mean”

“but you like that” you reply before kissing him again

meanwhile, the bartender is watching yall like “😐😑😐”

REKI

like with joe, i imagine you pulling this stunt off in the beginning of your relationship

you and reki are in the little workshop behind his house doing normal relationship stuff

you know, reki working on a skateboard repair while you lovingly admire his side profile...yea ❤️

he’s so absorbed in his work, his eyebrows are furrowed every so slightly, and he’ll randomly clench his jaw and WOWOWOW HE LOOK SO GOOD!

you feel so blessed just being able to take this sight in

you’re watching him intently with your elbows propped up on the table and your face resting between your hands

reki’s in the middle of tightening the screws when he notices you looking out of his peripheral vision

he glances over to you and sees you staring at him

have y’all seen that meme of meghan markle at her wedding looking up at harry?

YEA, YEA you’re literally looking up at reki like that

and boy does reki get FLUSTERED

he tries to act cool about catching you staring but baby is blushing way too hard

“w-what?”, reki mentally kicks himself for stammering as he returns his focus to the skateboard

“you look really hot right now”

reki damn near chokes and his face gets even more red (if that’s even possible)

he turns his back to you to reach for a wrench on the wall adjacent to him

but he's trynna hide how hard he's blushing uwu

you're laughing now and the melodic sound makes the tension in reki’s shoulders dissipate

yea...y’all are whipped for each other

reki is pouting with his back to you, still “looking” for his wrench

when all of sudden, he feels your hands settle on his waist, urging him to turn around

"rekiiiiii", you playfully whine. "i can't admire my boyfriend?"

he's turning around to tell you that he's busy, but then your fingers hook onto his belt

and before his brain can compute what's happening, you're sharply tugging his belt and your mouth is on his, hot and heavy

and reki moans

and it's so high-pitched and so earnest and so loud, you almost want to giggle

but then his knees buckle and he kinda collapses forward into you

so y'all both kinda shuffle back, but reki manages to catch himself by wrapping his arms around you for support

you're about to pull away to ask if he's okay, but then he brings one hand up to your face and parts his mouth

and when you gasp against his mouth, he feels slightly relieved knowing his dignity has been saved somehow

reki pulls away first, panting, and rests his forehead against your collarbone, trying to hide his face again

"you suck" he murmurs into your chest, slightly dizzy

you hum contentedly, combing his hair back before kissing the top of his head

CHERRY

first of all, this mf is an aries (just when i thought he couldn’t get sexier)

and aries men...🥴

basically, you have to do a lot to actually fluster this man

so let’s say he takes you with him for a two-day work trip on a nearby island

while he works with his clients during the day, you busy yourself by wandering around the hotel or walking along the beach

basically, the only time the two of you have together is in the evening

it’s your last night before y’all have to return to okinawa

kaoru tells you to get dressed and takes you out to this expensive ass restaurant and he’s sooooo f*cking romantic

the love in his eyes,,,, his soft ass smile as he watches you ramble in between taking sips from your wine glass

he’s looking at you as you’re personally responsible for the sun rising each day

i mean, you could’ve been talking about how you saw a crab on the beach that was missing a leg, and kaoru would just be like “tell me more bby 🥰😍”

when y’all make it back to the hotel, you’re both a little tipsy (kaoru is more so buzzed)

you’re holding onto kaoru’s arm as you both take the elevator up to your hotel room

kaoru feels you slightly sway against him and he leans over to kiss the top of your head

“you alright, darling?” he murmurs into your hair

he takes your hand in his and runs the pad of his thumb over the back of your hand

and he does all of this while his lips are pressed against the top of your head— SIR PLS ✋😩

it’s an chaste act and you know he’s genuinely concerned but after two glasses of wine, your brain is just—🥴

hornknee thoughts only 😩💯

sloppily, you wiggle out of kaoru’s embrace before centering yourself in front of him with your hands placed on his chest

at your action, kaoru’s eyebrow raises ever so slightly but he keeps silent, slightly amused

“you’re so f*cking fine” you murmur, slightly smoothing your hands over kaoru’s chest, staring him right in eye

“oh?”

“yea, and you don’t even try. What’s that like?”

by now, kaoru’s softly smiling. “what’s what like, my love?”

“what’s it like to be so hot without even trying?”

and before ol boy can even reply to that, your hands find his belt before firmly pulling him in for a kiss

kaoru hums at the sudden jolt but then sighs appreciatively through his nose and wastes no time parting his mouth for you

b*tch, you’re the one who’s moaning skxhsnwje

still kissing you, he smooths your hair back with one hand before grabbing a fistful of your hair

he firmly yanks your hair back and deepens the kiss, and you just— 🤸‍♀️

the moan that elicits from you, is OTHERWORLDY

you feel the elevator roll to a stop

kaoru pulls back with a grin on his face and so much love in his eyes that you’re tempted to go in for round two

but then the elevator door slides open and he grabs your hand, tugging you into the hallways

as he leads you to the hotel room, kaoru slightly turns his head back to smile at you, with the same amount of love in his eyes

LANGA

i feel like langa may get flustered as easily as reki might, but he’s manages to be a lot more cool about it

which kinda drives you up the wall? you just wanna see your boyfriend embarrassed for once

all he does is slightly blush with a straight face and glance away

so let’s say he’s walking you home after you, him, and reki were hanging about at a skatepark

the sun had already set and langa is walking beside you with his skateboard under one arm.

the walk is pretty silent, but it’s a comfortable silence. langa finds that he and you can soak up each other’s presence without having to say a word

you see him jolt out of your peripheral vision and you’re like ???

before you can glance over and ask if he’s okay, he quickly grabs your hand

you glance up at him, confused, and he simply replies “i forgot to hold your hand, sorry”

langa wtf??

fighting back the urge to laugh, you squeeze his hand and tell him it’s fine

both of you share a soft smile, before the easy silence continues for the rest of the walk

when y’all arrive on your porch steps, you turn to him and thank him for walking you home

langa assures you it’s no problem before saying goodnight

he’s turns around and takes a couple steps away, when you clear your throat

he glances back at you, quizzically

you’re standing on the porch step, with your hands behind your back.

there’s a mischievous glint in your eyes

“aren’t you forgetting something?” you playfully chide him

langa: 😐😑😐

you can literally see the gears turning in langa’s head

“...did you want me to walk you to your bedroom?”

you can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of you, and langa feels his cheeks reddened slightly

“angel, no. I meant a goodnight kiss?”

“o-oh, right”

his brows furrowed slightly as he determinedly making his way over to you

he’s so—&:&72737

as he’s making his way over, an idea pops into your head and you kinda “>:3”

when langa is standing in front of you, your hands grip onto his belt and you yank him into a kiss

bby boy almost drops his skateboard

he quickly inhaled through his nose before giving a stuttered moan and you smile into the kiss

you’re standing on the first step to your porch so the added height is giving you more access

BITE HIS MFIN LIP! he will gasp so prettily into your mouth

entranced, he keeps leaning more and more forward, that is, until the back of your foot hits the step behind you

stumbling backwards, you fall back and pull langa along right with you

you fall right on your ass, yelping as you knock foreheads with langa as he falls into you

so now, you’re both left moaning, gripping your foreheads

“are you okay?” langa asks you, dropping his hand from his forehead revealing a red mark

you begin to laugh at the sight of it and langa just stares at you, confused but slightly defensive

“w-what?!”

“your forehead is red” you giggle

“well yea, you slammed your forehead into mine”

“you slammed your forehead into mine” you give him a quick peck on his lip before smoothing his hair hair back

“that looks like it’s gonna bruise,” you murmur and press a kiss to his forehead “I’ll get you some ice, come inside”

end notes: i wanted to get this out in time for cherry’s bday!