#so not only it's worse it's also more frequent :V

[unproduciblesmackdown]

as "let's see if will roland's birthday prompts any billions production clues from posts castmates may make about it" continues to yield "no one's posting about it, while some castmates post about other people's birthdays," already having more thoughts abt [i'm sure he'll show up in at least one episode even if only to be written out] type things like:

a) would be insulting if winston is fired to serve a subplot about philip and taylor having some difficulty in finding their footing re: working together as coheads, like, we're good at anticassandraing things and have gone "lol what if philip & taylor disagreed abt quants in that philip preferred winston. which he feasibly could," so what if instead it's philip arguing that winston should be fired to streamline things or because everyone who's not taylor will want him gone b/c they dislike him, and in learning how to successfully work together, taylor's like well alright. like, don't pit these elements against each other the insult is instead just Anyone, higher ups or lower downs, wanting winston gone b/c they dislike him, so he's fired

b) winston getting bullied by anyone or everyone is seen as him distracting them &/or provoking it with his presence, so he's fired winston being friends w/tuk is seen as a bad influence of loserdom on the latter (or distraction, or annoying, or w/e) so he's fired some Problem that needs solving or otherwise some need to fire Some people that really doesn't have much to do with him gets him fired anyways. like 5x05 all over again, isn't it always. or even if he's particularly involved in some problem you know it'd be something other people could get away with just fine. see:

c) what's even "a problem" like that despite everyone being in a hostile workplace, winston is especially, and we're so graced with dollar bill back on the premises who has already harassed and threatened and assaulted him (not only limiting the lattermost to something like "did he hit you, and like, closed fist, and i mean pretty hard. well that's just what he's like, you're fine." or the way like sabotaging a toilet is just epic pranks and only a problem if something looks bad to theoretical investors and we should talk about what tmc people might be doing to deserve it) while rian has been holding down the fort bullying and using winston. perfectly in line with everything if this kind of thing prompting any hostility in turn is like, nobody blinks at the other stuff, wherein if anything everyone keeps trying to fix dollar bill's feelings for him and talk about how who he's being awful to needs to appease him asap, and rian simply Wanting to use winston as a chew toy is just taken in stride while separately people have already been motivated by theoretically looking out for her / supporting her in various ways as well. whereas if winston Acts like he regards her as a hostile party, which she is, rather than seeming to operate in good faith that they can have regular constructive basic respect interactions, which he does while those decent interactions seem to come through rarely and unreliably, then i'm sure he'd be seen as mean / starting shit / out of line / etc, especially when it seems him Disrespecting the Rules & Social Hierarchy that should disallow him from like, speaking unless it's to self-flagellate, means people see him as aggressive or whatever. basically the classic scenario like, kid's bullied at school, they're supposed to just ignore it or it's otherwise "not that bad" / stuff gotten away with, even if supposedly it's like well just tell an authority figure here, that won't/doesn't work, any resulting obvious tension/dislike between the kid and whoever is like "uh oh, a Both Sides problem" at best, same if there's a physical fight or something or else it's like well That was unacceptable and if it was initiated by Your reaction to all other kinds of terrible treatment for however long, you're the problem. not that i expect winston to throw a punch about it, but, figuratively / parallel to this scenario

d) winston is sick of his deluxe hostile environment, doesn't actually like whatever coheading changes, sick of rian and/or dollar bill specifically, and/or doesn't appreciate some other goings-on, like one that results in him even being threatened with firing, and gets to just quit as has regularly seemed like something he might want to do anyways since 4x11 and intermittently on

e) not really another Way to imagine they kick him out but was thinking how like, Is a reason we're shown that taylor and rian hugging in the middle of an office was seen by i guess winston alone gonna be further relevant at all and about him making anything of it, which, he really couldn't possibly be wrong about any inferences. but going :/ at the taylor and rian dynamic just as a spontaneous, contained event would be self-explanatory too. but had the thought of like, maybe it's all "well taylor's been here 5 seasons and is in a more prominent position than last season, throw a PR problem at them for the first time for real, just as a shakeup / something that throws them off" wherein like winston wouldn't even have to be there to be cited in something like yeah i was fired or quit or whatever else and my former boss is dating an employee i think. or seems to have a real personal preference for them if not personal somethingship. which is true lmfao like? even if winston ""wrongly"" assumes they're dating like "oh sorry these claims are ridiculous, i only proposed as much to this employee who i already was informally mentoring and do favor such that she was promoted offscreen after like half a season to be able to make trades and this only came up when her using that capacity to do some shit she could've been fired for had me like 'but i'll take the heat for it' b/c any feeling that i'd wanna fire you is worth working through as a personal problem, and that employee turned me down not only just b/c apparently dating through work is too much (but not hooking up through work) but because she's afraid of how much she could love me, and now we're further personal somethings or who even knows what's ever been going on and so who can say if we were supposed to have fully closed the door on dating or not, even." wherein like....someone then doing further research consulting with every named tmc employee, in this hypothetical (and ignoring any hypothetical new, named/dialogued hires) scenario all now Former employees except rian who clearly won't have been firedor quit at the start of season 7, b/c yknow god forbid lmao....like, oh i'm taylor's best friend so no comment except that when i'm mad at them i'll apparently say that i always thought they inhumanly don't have feelings and all, very helpful. then there's like, oh yeah i was taylor's employee and dated them until business misalignments lead to a less than ideal breakup, and then kind of an aftershock of that for fun i guess. and then yeah i was also taylor's employee and knew they were dating another employee and i disapproved if only b/c i told them it could look bad but then also one of the reasons leading up to my quitting was having difficulty getting in touch with them while the other employee lived with them at least part of the time and i didn't seem to be a fan of that bonus access re: discussing business getting in the way of the formal structure / chain of command or whatever at work as well which is part of what i was already there to file a complaint over, so....even just the "it does look bad / people do think you leverage status for access to sex through employees" like no but that's My boss though. but also just that yeah taylor has at least tried to date employees twice, and their personal preference does affect professional matters, though that's also just like, pick any place of work and any slice of it, may not be a meritocracy after all versus how much it matters that some people are popular and/or liked by the right people while others can be recognized as Good Employees on paper but be left where they are or antagonized by peers or higher ups b/c of "failing" at the popularity contest aspect. and this could just be some new Kind of problem for taylor, and/or their just having to question themself more. or else go "ugh leave it to winston" and shrug it off once whatever's smoothed over.

f) winston isn't fully written off but rather it's something zany like, the twist is dollar bill coming back (god forbid he didn't either) while mafee, who evidently sees taylor outside work despite it all, is like eh we'll get dinners sometimes too, and does not likewise return despite saying he's the one who'd consider it. winston, being fired, or having quit, or just being unhappy w/things enough to consider it, is like well you're kind of regular at me sometimes and can't yell at me abt loyalty to taylor if neither of us work for them and you have weird confusing ideas about how they should be loyal to you if anything, and i can do the work of 50 phds, and i know you don't know shit abt the math and quanting but if you just leave it up to me entirely, that's pretty much been my work experience thus far anyways. then he'd be filming on different sets, possibly more rarely, and also dan soder has been likewise elusive but is also on site on the two even vaguely or implicitly [s7 production] related pics will's turned up in.

g) idk billions feel free to prank us where once again between seasons we worry winston could be written off but then he isn't, but elusivity paired with suddenly now castmates w/no mention of him for [march 5th] and [we are doing any bday acknowledgments] overlaps that otherwise get posts, especially. weird even if he Was written out in ep one but okay then

[oceanxveiined]

 Genshin Verse Side Muses:

*Mentions of abuse, dysfunctional families, manipulation, torture, violence, experimentation, ableism, transphobia, and death, not necessarily all present/to various extents depending on each bio, ahead.

1) Chang Da’Lun (500+/appears 23): Half-Adeptus, born some time before the Cataclysm. He can shift into a smaller birdlike form at will, though it does take a bit out of him to switch back. It doesn’t stop him from shifting into it on his own or a friend's whim though.

          His father was a Yaksha named Wuye, alias Caligo, who had inevitably become consumed by his karmic debt and became more akin to a malevolent demon. Though admittedly, the adeptus had already possessed quite the cruel streak, even long before he’d fallen. Being driven mad by the karmic debt meant his slaughters turned to fellow adepti and humans alike, which had also grown to be far more frequent and brutal. Each consumed opponent led his power to grow as he’d absorb their vitality and any abilities they possessed.

          By contrast Da’lun’s mother, Anhe, had been fully human, having been with a group of treasure hunters who’d taken her from her family in ransom when they’d strayed too close to the maddened Yaksha’s territory. When they had realized and tried to sneak away, she risked her life to draw Wuye out and betrayed them all in a desperate bid for freedom and power. She offered them all to be slaughtered and devoured by the corrupted Yaksha, as well as to offered to lure more to satisfy his bloodlust for incentive to make him spare her own life. She even offered to be his mate as well, to let herself be used by him as he saw fit, sparing no expense to give anything and everything she could to ensure she survived this encounter. He conceded out of convenience, taking her as promised and continuing his slaughters about Wuwang Hill with her aid.

          Anhe delighted in having his favor, even with how terrified of him she’d been at first, growing more and more sadistic herself with every massacred he’d rend, every death scream that filled her ears while she remained unscathed. The thrill of power and having a mate so powerful to keep it was too alluring and far too intoxicating, she would never dream of ever parting from him.

         Only for her to end up alone and powerless anyway when the former Yaksha was killed shortly after the birth of Da’Lun.

         Much of his childhood had been Anhe relentlessly tormenting him, using him as a scapegoat for how her life had fallen apart and due to having been affected by his father’s karmic debt as well ( both in her continued presence alongside him up until that point and in stubbornly lingering at his lair where the miasma was all concentrated rather than returning home with him gone ). Da’Lun took the abuse without protest, wholeheartedly believing her and his own guilt. He spent his whole life striving to ‘make up’ for his existence, in bringing her gifts and attempting to make her life easier every way he could. To protect and provide for her as his father had intended.

         It all came to a crashing stop when his mother at last succumbed to the cursed energy infesting their home. Or so he tells himself and anyone who ponders of her fate, not wanting to admit he himself had killed and devoured her. It had been when she’d tried to end his life first and the resulting corruption of them both had his adeptal nature spiraling out of control during the struggle. His Electro Vision had been what had ultimately murdered her, bestowed upon him during his struggle as she denounced and cursed him, which he hadn’t realized until the morning after.

         Plagued with guilt and fear, and knowing he must have taken on her share of the karmic debt's influence, his father's ability considered, he traveled Teyvat to distance himself from his former home for a few years. For 500 years, he witnessed beauty and horrors alike throughout it all, before he decided to settle some time in Sumeru. His main aim had been to learn all he could on humans and their histories ( learning from each Darshan over the course of the centuries he’d spent there, changing his appearance every time he’d reapply ), as well as to pass the time in a way that would not aggravate lingering traces of his father’s influence. It was while he learnt from the Amurta Darshan when he met Danae. With time to spare, and admittedly intrigued by the utter madness of her ideas and her equally frenzied determination to see such impossible fantasies made reality, he signed a contract to assist her in any endeavors she may undertake for them, as she would his own, per its terms. They would maintain it dedicatedly before briefly parting ways when her illicit studies were discovered.

         He himself remained at the Akademiya mere weeks before deciding his life had dulled too much without her odd ideas and eccentric ( not to mention at times exceedingly cruel ) methods, setting off to travel again in search of her. Traveling through his homeland, he would come to meet Ozzy, whom he would follow to Mondstadt, after he’d found him interesting company, especially when the man would encourage him to not feel so wary of the karmic debt’s influence. There, he would become a founding member of his gang when it resulted that the man’s interest had been likewise piqued and thus given him the invitation to stay.

          Ozzy was able to locate and drag Danae into his business thanks to Da’Lun’s scheming and using the terms of their contract to rope her in.

         What could he say? He would be a fool to let one of his favorite toys go. Just as he would the chance to see what would come out of putting so many volatile little components together.

           Surely the end result would be most spectacular indeed.

Oswald “Ozzy” Beauregard / Ásvaldr Bjornsson (appears early 20s): One of the remaining survivors of Khaenri’ah, though he keeps that card very close to his chest, having fled the nation after the surviving the Cataclysm. Only Da’Lun is actually aware of said fact, due to their shared longevity and closer bond compared to many of the others. If asked of his origin, he will always give the half-truth that he is of the Sumeru region. He currently gets a kick out of pretending to work for himself at his little tavern named Fleur de Nuit, from where his gang operates under the guise of a legitimate business.

         Stricken with immortality, Ozzy tends to push the limits of what said immortality will do for him, especially since his perception of pain and danger has been skewed severely by his curse. For the longest time, he had wandered about the desert and Sumeru’s forests, picking fight after fight using the very Abyssal energies he’d been corrupted with. Even with no formal combat training outside teachings he learnt as apprentice mage ( these very learnings being the reason he was was to maintain his appearance as it was, without succumbing to the curse of wilderness ), his increasingly frenzied manner tended to allow him to prove a match for the hilichurls, Eremites, and Treasure Hoarders he encountered, leaving brutalized corpses and wreckages in his wake, and plenty a scar to mar his own body. Some of which healed worse off than others due to his inability and gradual lack of real want to properly care for himself. Eventually, he would be found and formally taken in by the Fatui when he had too grievously injured to fight them off.

Not that he would have wanted to even if he could, considering how much they piqued his interest.

        He had been with them long before Danae had joined, having willingly surrendered himself to be experimented on by Dottore out of boredom and curiosity to see what the man could get out of it. As well as a vain hope to possibly stave off his Erosion and keep his mind with the Abyssal energies eating away at it when his own treatments would prove increasingly inefficient. Needless to say, Ozzy’s sanity had still taken quite the toll throughout the centuries he’s been alive, and the outright torture he faced through the time he’d been with them had truly not helped in the least. Especially not while being injected with god remains had steadily twisted up his mind, more and more. The Abyssal energy he’d already been afflicted with had ironically been what helped keep himself through it though, allowing him to fully assimilate the god’s lingering energy into himself and steady his condition.

         When Danae had decided to desert the Fatui, she broke Ozzy out from containment and left him an experimental Delusion to have him serve as a diversion so she could escape, figuring he would have some exploitable grudge that would prompt him to seek vengeance. And he served his purpose well, slaughtering Fatuus after Fatuus he encountered with the three tail-like, bladed chains he could manifest from it. He did so with great delight and utmost zeal, damn near like an animal in frenzy. But in truth, he really cared not for getting even. He rather merely wanted enrichment, as he called it.

         While Danae had figured the Delusion would simply kill him in the end, his own longevity and the god remains he’d assimilated allowed him to use the Delusion so freely without truly debilitating consequences, though still at certain cost to his body after particularly prolonged usage. It severely aggravates the place with the god remains had been injected, low at his right side where the Abyssal energy was at its highest concentration. Due to it also being the place of his most severe wound and one of the ones that truly never healed properly, it leaves him feeling as though something had been gouged right out every time he’d stop its use. Still, in the moment of that first use, all he could think of was the thrill of the fighting and being able to run about, free at last. To this day, that very thrill is what keeps him using it, even knowing the painful consequences.

         The euphoric high he felt back then lead him to completely destroy the location all together, both in his own kills and in tampering the delicate machinery that would consume the rest of the location along with it in the ensuing explosions. He himself made his getaway before the destruction caught him up along with everything else, after finding and bringing along a fellow victim ( not that he consciously saw himself as such ) of the Fatui experiments.

         After hearing tales of Monstadt, her homeland, the idea of a nation whose Archon had no real say in its ruling appealed to him greatly, Thus, he would hijack and man a Fatui ship to gain leave off Inazuma, heading to the Southern side of Liyue, and making their journey back to Mond that way.

         Ozzy’s aim in making the gang had solely been to collect interesting people to surround himself with, nothing more nothing less. Something to help stave off ennui and keep his mind sharp; a little pet project he could maintain or ruin at his leisure when the time came. It only became a formal organization incidentally, but he finds it a decent pastime to run it and especially the business he and Da’Lun came up with as a front. Especially when he genuinely ended up attached to a certain select few, though he maintains it is only out of how entertaining the lot of them are, themselves and with him.

          Due to past experiences, particularly what he witnessed during the Cataclysm, he has a mild to severely violent visceral reaction to fire based abilities; which is only worsened by his love of deliberately avoiding triggering his own phobia and habit of gambling with extreme stakes, typically involving fire in some way.

         What sort of gambling man would he be if he let something like that stop him, after all?

Elisabeth “Eliza” Merrimack (18) - A Mondsadt-born girl whose family lineage traces back to the Imunlaukr clan, after the clan had broken up due to a schism. Originally Visionless, she would gain a Dendro Vision ( chronologically set late in the events of the Sumeru Archon Quest ) and take up Catalyst-based combat.

         The eldest daughter of her main family at the time, she had a horse riding accident in her youth that left her paraplegic, exhibiting little to no movement in her legs even after treatment at the church. The fact that it had taken them some time to get her there, seeing as she had been lost for days, was probably behind it. Regardless, her family despaired at the incident, frantically trying everything they could to heal her, even as the church insisted nothing could be done. Even as she herself tried to reason it was alright; that she didn't need to be, having accepted their verdict when her family could not. And they never truly did.

         When she was fifteen, the Merrimacks ultimately accepted an offer from the Fatui to aid them ( though in hindsight, Eliza couldn’t but wonder if it had been seen as an excuse to have them take her off their hands ), and carted her off far from home. Betrayed at her family giving her away so easily, especially after she realized they would not check up on her or visit, Eliza at last fell into despair after seeing what awaited her at the hands of the Fatui. Her parents had been lied to, after all–Eliza had not been taken in to receive care, instead becoming subjected to experiments with god remains like every other subject they got their hands on.

          And no one would be aware of that to come save her. Assuming they would even care to try if they did.

         Things began to change years later after meeting Danae, who was assigned to oversee her. To be precise, Danae had at first been in charge of her post-op treatments, ensuring the effects of the experiments didn’t disrupt her vitals and in keeping her alive overall. They began to know more of each other and interact after the then Fatuus had been promoted and would have her as an exclusive subject, due to her ideas and personal project.

          Even with how callous Danae could be, she and Eliza eventually came to get along well due to Eliza coming to understand Danae’s wordless gestures and tough-love care after the former had begun to get attached to Eliza. Said care usually being in the form of snuck treats and material comforts. It wasn’t until later on in their friendship that Eliza learned it had been because she reminded Danae of her younger brother, that she had specifically requested to oversee her treatments because she wanted to help her like she'd intended to help him. Learning why and how she intended to do that did embitter Eliza rather than endear her though.

That said, they truly became each other’s first real friend and confidante after Eliza had been–even if gruffly–encouraged by Danae to start speaking up for herself and the first thing Eliza did was tell her off for thinking she ought to ‘fix’ her and any other person, for that matter. It had been a gut reaction based on Eliza’s own resentment of how her family regarded her as well as the god remains in her acting up due to her agitation.

         Still, even while the burst of temper had startled Eliza, it had been enough for Danae to not only respect the girl, but also to begin to doubt her own goals. Most notably, it was enough to prompt the Fatuus to pick up her old ideas anew rather than continuing the original experiment plan she’d had altogether, choosing to help make amends in fashioning Eliza a special wheelchair to take her out for enrichment. Not that Danae would ever admit that’s what it had been for, even in present day, but Eliza understood and was grateful for it all the same.

            The day Danae broke out, she had actively tried to reach Eliza to bring her along, but was unable to in the chaos she’d wrought and severely underestimated. Thinking her dead, she prioritized her own survival and left without a second thought.

           Eliza hadn’t realized she’d been abandoned once again, rather had been merely confused by the happening and chaos around her. She patiently awaited Danae to come, trusting the Fatuus to soon fill her in and protect her if need be. Instead, it was the newly freed Ozzy who had found Eliza and offered to bring her along after having slaughtered her guards and in hearing her request to see the stars outside before he ‘put her out of her misery’ had moved him.

          And especially because she then tried to cut his throat the instant he got close enough to try and carry her.

          After convincing her he did want to bring her along, not kill her, she at last conceded and let him take her away from the wreckage of the lab. Eliza's tales of her home nation had been the reason Ozzy had chosen to settle there, and she was more than happy to return with him, though flares ups of the god remains in her did pose some problems both were unsure of how to handle. Not that he trusted anyone in Teyvat to be able to take care of her as they should, especially considering how she’d ended up in the Fatui’s hands in the first place.

         Still, she is grateful he took it upon himself to allow her to stay by his side as his ward, even while she couldn’t offer him much in return in terms of fighting skill, money, or knowledge besides that of her home. When he founded his gang, she did find purpose in aiding with the logistics aspect of running the front for his gang, using the learnings of her youth. Without her, it would have fallen apart from the start, Ozzy would always say, leaving her giddy with excitement and her heart full. After finding and enacting a solution to quell the unstable god remains in her ( taken place post-Sumeru archon quest, story-wise ), she would start taking a more active role in the gang as aid to their resident healer. In addition, her wheelchair would be adapted for combat, to suit her needs and her Vision’s abilities.

          She is well aware that elemental concentrations worsen the god remains' extreme and dangerous flare ups, but she still constantly insists upon staying with everyone else in the gang and utilizing a soothing device relying on Elemental energy anyways. She’d rather spend it in comfort and with her friends, even the lot of them encourage her to when she frets what could come out of it ( even Ozzy telling her the risk of that danger is exactly why they are so comfortable was a twisted solace that wound up giving her more confidence to accept her wants to be with them ). Once the traces of god remains in her would be sealed off enough, she is able to head out with them with her wheelchair from that point on, as well as set at ease her fears of hurting them. She still feels chronic flares up of pain due to her affliction, but with less risk of it going out of control and killing her dear friends, she can bear it a lot easier.

          After all she’d been through, this was nothing. Nothing, in the face of being able to smile and delight in her life to the fullest once more.

Durene (19): Hailing from Natlan, Durene is a demigodess, born from the union of a mortal man, Jevaun, and a nature godess Jaladri, whom he had ensnared with a talisman along with several of his friends and fellow warriors when her tempests had threatened their home village. She had fallen for him when he had been watching over her, and had been the kindest of her captors, eventually conceding to be his wife after enough time in his company, as well as certain courtship of his had won her over.

          Even while bound to human form, Jaladri had been content in their union at first, up until her husband began to get exceedingly paranoid and possessive of her following being imbued with several of her blessings that granted him great strength and renown in his tribe. She began to grow miserable, cursing Jevaun and unable to do much to fight him as he was, as her powers had become considerably weaker compared to his over the years, especially after Durene’s birth. And it didn’t help that it was especially so because the man kept her away from the sea, an important source of vitality for her. Still the goddess did not fault her daughter upon her birth, teaching Durene the ways to be a soothsayer and healer so she could properly go through the initiation process and her actual training in the village once she was of the apt age. At the same time, Jevaun had taught Durene the art of war and trained with her every chance he got, hoping his daughter could bring him renown and glory with her exploits in the yearly games.

          Durene took to both her learnings quite well, eager at the thought of being able to contribute to village and her family this way. She particularly excelled in serving as an herbalist and healer, though she did work hard to improve her skills when it came to divination to impress her mother. It always did seem to put Jaladri in a far better mood whenever she did, as well as when she would listen to her mother’s tales of gods and places she’d been, of her life prior to being confined to mortal form. Of their Archon, and her great deeds. More than anything, she loved singing for her mother, songs she learned from her and the others in the village, seeing how her voice seemed to bring the goddess some semblance of solace, when she felt her weakest.

         At twelve years old, Durene had bonded with a Koholasaurus she'd named Aje, who helped her gather materials from the seas and magma caves, often keeping Jaladri company whenever Durene would gather from the land, or while she worked to make her treatments or to preserve her supplies. Around that time, she also learned the full story of her mother’s plight. Horrified and moved, she would elect to repay her mother all she’s taught her in concocting a clever plan to gleam out from her drunken father the location of each piece of the talisman needed to complete the needed ritual and free the goddess. With this knowledge, Durene was able to find and bring them to her mother with Aje's aid. The goddess would aid her in completing the necessary steps once it had all come together. As her bonds would break and her strength returned, Jaladri lamented being unable to take her child with her. Promising to return with a means to ascend her as soon as she could, the goddess would transform into a pillar hundreds of crabs that would scatter into the sea and leave Durene standing alone at the outcropping. Bittersweet and all-too brief as their parting was, she felt content in knowing her mother would be happy at last.

          The good mood would not last long, as Jevaun flew into a deadly rage in realizing what had happened when he awoke to the sounds of a howling sea storm after she returned home.

          His rage did not frighten her, even as he demanded answers. Did the she not care about their village? Of what the goddess would do to them, now that she was free? Of why she’d been confined to mortality in the first place?

Durene truly cared not, insisting Jaladri had borne and suffered enough under his suffocating hold. If they were all to be destroyed in her vengeful wrath, it was for the slight they’d done against her, and thus truly fair.

          Her answers would brand her a traitor in the eyes of her father and, to his claims, their people. To ensure the goddess wouldn’t completely destroy them, he killed Aje and locked Durene away, making made sure Jaladri could never find her and that no one else would in turn ever think to help free her, as no one else would be aware of where she'd 'disappeared' to. As far as anyone knew, she and her Saurian companion had been killed while gathering materials.

          She couldn’t say how much time had passed since he’d left her there. Days, then weeks, then months went by languishing in her prison, in the presence of no one else but her father, whenever he would stop by to bring her food. If her refusal to concede to his pleas to betray her mother and attempts to break out didn’t enrage him enough to leave her to her own devices the next few, that was. It wasn’t until she’d exhausted every desperate, rage and grief-stricken attempt at escaping that Durene formulated a proper plan to escape.

          The next time Jevaun came to see her, he found his daughter seemingly unresponsive. The man freed her from her bonds and frantically attempted to wake her, only to find his daughter conscious after all, taking advantage of his closeness to grab hold of him. The man was only able to catch a brief glimpse of her newly bequeathed Anemo Vision mere moments before she would sap the breath from his lungs. Her face, twisted in every trace of hatred and resentment she felt towards him, was the last thing he’d ever see as he would succumb. Durene would hold no remorse for her actions, even as the village people would come to find her and try to seize her in retaliation.

          Escaping their clutches and leaving them to the mercy of her mother’s wrath, Durene would take to travel about Teyvat as a wandering soothsayer, making a pretty coin on divination and healing. Truly, that whole time she had been seeking a way she may ascend to join her mother, sparing no expense wherever she may go. She'd even forged a binding vow for herself, giving up her tongue, and thus ability to speak in exchange for power. Through her journey, she fostered a particular resentment born in her in Sumeru and the way the Akademiya had gone about managing knowledge at the time ( such as the reason they had rejected entry for her, thinking her to be of the desert folk ). Which lead to her resolving to ensure that place would be the first she may pay a visit to once she reached her goal, to tear it asunder for the offense, seeing as its god would surely not be able to match her when the time came.

          It was in being found by Ozzy in Liyue and being requested to come with him, Eliza, and Da'Lun along the way that she came to have company once more. The final founding member of his gang, she would happily settle in Mond with them. But by no means does this mean she had given up on her goal. With Da'Lun and his influence, as well as the addition of Danae later on, Durene would find use in the team’s members to further seek the information she required for her own ultimate goal. Who knew, perhaps she would just need to be a little more patient, just a little bit longer.

           Well, fine by her. That, she had plenty practice in.

Jaeda Purmizra (18): The daughter of an affluent family in Sumeru and the most recent addition to Ozzy’s gang. She joined them after running away from home and continuously hitching rides on caravans then later merchant ships that guided her to Dorman Port in Mondstadt. From there, she hid among a lucrative-looking delivery, which lead her to Ozzy’s tavern, where she would be promptly caught for having stolen foods from the convoy and attempted to make off with other items to try and sell in the main city. Danae had nearly left her bound and at the complete mercy of Treasure Hoarders as punishment, had Eliza not intervened and personally pleaded her case to Ozzy. He accepted to take Jade in as well, only because he knew it would anger Danae in the process, and because he was intrigued by her Vision in particular,

          Born male and then named Jahar, Jade had been the family’s sole heir and was raised into the role accordingly ( read: impossibly strict ) by her mother. It was thanks to a young servant girl who tended to her every need that she even began to experiment with and realized her actual gender identity. All because the girl had wanted to play dress up and needed a friend to help her, not realizing all the decorum she was breaking in daring to ask the heir, of all people, such a thing.

          It had been quite the relief in realizing it, though, even when she hadn’t been actively searching for it. But to her, it meant everything from then on. And it meant despair, as she continued to masquerade as her mother’s precious only son and heir. She didn’t want to upset her mother, after all, especially since the woman banked so much of her bid for power as head of the family upon her. So she kept that her little secret, playing with the girl and growing up happily alongside her over the years.

         Up until she and the girl had been caught playing.

         The girl had been punished severely for her ‘crime’ and Jade was forced to bear witness to the bloody ordeal for humoring her. Only after the girl was left near death did Jade face her own punishment, the horrid humiliation her mother enforced upon her before an audience of the woman’s closest friends and advisers.

          The anger she felt in seeing the life dwindling in her friend’s eyes and the cruelty she faced ignited a single-minded determination to make every last person in the room pay for her beloved friend's pain, enough to for her to black out, coming to only when her mother had screamed.

Snapping back to consciousness, Jade felt bloodcurdling horror and cathartic relief in realizing she’d burnt her mother’s lovely face beyond recognition, every other cruel person who’d participated in her torment left as naught but charred corpses in her wake. In spotting the gleaming, blood-red gem clutched tightly in her hand.

          She didn’t stay long, stealing her friend away and running away from home with an intent to bring her along. They could make a life together away from them now, she was sure of it. She had a Pyro Vision after all, she was no longer powerless to protect them!

            With the severity of the girl’s wounds though, her friend had little time left. With her last breath, the girl made her promise to live life for the both of them and to be happy. To stay safe, and never let anyone dictate how she may live her life ever again.

          That day, Jahar died along with the servant girl. In his place and bearing the name of that girl to carry on her memory, Jaeda would set off to find that happiness she’d promised.

Mako du Raie (16): A Visionless young heir to a prolific merchant family in Fontaine, and the member who had joined the Snake-Eyes gang before Danae and Tua had. His father, Benshi, had been a doushin from Inazuma and met Mako’s mother, Marie, while she learnt the trade from her father, prior to the Sakoku Decree being fully enacted. Mako is their illegitimate child, though he was claimed to be his mother’s younger brother to save face for the family. As such, he was raised primarily under the strict watch of his grandmother and even stole the title of heir to the family from Marie, due to the story they’d given him.

         He took to his studies like a fish to water, being quite bright and precocious for his age. And in his eagerness to pursue his grandmother’s approval, he went far above and beyond the efforts his mother had ever put into her own. The family agreed he was definitely a far more suitable heir than she as a result, though he avoided his mother’s jealous wrath by asking she be involved in everything he did. Like this, the woman’s temperament was appeased, her going as far as to even take credit behind his talent and boast of him to all who would meet them.

          In all honesty, he would have been content enough handing her the reins of the family, had a business venture to Mondstadt not changed his mind entirely. His mother’s boasting lead to drawing Ozzy’s attention, the man having been seeking a nice, convenient little liaison for his gang’s front. With the boy being as young as he was, not only would he be easy to exploit, but his talent and influence would absolutely prove worth the effort to draw him in, just as he'd hope.

          As such, Da'Lun would be the one to meet and gain his trust. To persuade him to join Ozzy’s gang as their merchant contact. And, to ensure Mako’s position and control over his family’s affairs, Da'Lun would even go as far as to encourage Mako to eliminate each and every family member that could possibly stand in his way of managing it all himself.

           Mako couldn’t help but give in, even with how complacent he’d been before. Even being fully aware of the horrific task he would have to taken on to ensure his control over the family's business and finances. All it took was being given the affection and doting he always wanted, rather than lauded praises for his potential and saccharine-sweet yet ultimately empty words he knew better than to believe. It took one friend, who cared and spoiled him so, to make him turn his previous wishes of simplicity and contentment from before and pursue a more ruthless ambition without a qualm. Even as he gazed into his mother’s dulling eyes, frozen in horror and anguish, he would only feel a strong sense of satisfaction as he stepped over her without a qualm. As he would make his way over to Da'Lun, who would fondly ruffle his hair with genuine praises aplenty before carrying him back to Ozzy’s little haunt.

           He knew full well he was to be used by Ozzy’s group, having realized it early on in Da'Lun’s attempts to worm his way into his heart. But once he’d met with the others in the gang and Ozzy himself, there was no longer a single trace of lingering doubt in his heart that his brutal choice had been in his best interest. Looking at the lot of them gathered to see him, all varying shades of proud of what he’d accomplished, no matter how horrific, he determined the excitement and validation that came with what they did was a lot better than living his life within conventional rules.

            Where else could he feel like he was at the top of the world like this?

Tusitala / Tua (20): Originally hailing from a coastal village in Natlan then migrating to and eventually settling in Liyue due to his father’s relentless pursuit of riches and lack of interest in the wars that ravaged their nation, Tua had been a Treasure Hoarder well before his coming of age. He is rather proud of the fact, too, often boasting of his own successes compared to other factions, especially after he’s fought his way through a group of them in a show of his own Natlanian battle prowess. 

At first it had been at his father’s urging that he joined and stayed with the Treasure Hoarders they’d met up with on their way to Liyue Harbor. It was only to serve as something to make for a side hustle while his father took care of other business dealings at first ( taking care of logistics for that gang while Tua himself got to take on the more dangerous aspects, as he also managed an artifact appraisal business with things Tua and the gang would bring in ), then it became Tua’s sole obsession as his own greed grew, right along his addiction for every victory and bounty he secured them.

         Tua was quite content with this life, thinking himself the luckiest man in the world to have this chance. Even if he did have to surrender near all of his share of their spoils to his father, to quell the man's avarice ( and to ensure the man didn't try and take it all from him, by force or outright theft ). But with what he was allowed to keep or what he managed to squirrel away to pass off as such later, Tua would take to decorating himself handsomely to show off his successes. As such, he’s got several piercings ( many of which he did himself ) along his body, as well as bits of gold embedded in his skin, particularly about his shoulders. He also has a few tattoos to commemorate his victories and his comrades, which glow whenever he uses his Vision.

          Speaking of, his Geo Vision came to him during a show of his conviction to protect his Treasure Hoarder ‘family’ by all means and any costs. In this case, it had been in protecting them from a squadron of Milileth by the skin of his own teeth then later its aid, having chosen to cover them on his own to ensure they could make off with a particularly rich score. Because of it, he became quite popular among them, with the lot thinking he would lead them to the greatest successes and eventually take over rival gangs and become their overall leader.

          The thought strongly appealed to him, enough that he resolved to make it a reality. As leader, he would have a greater right to a bigger share of the spoils, and he could be independent enough to break away from his father, too. And of course, being able to protect his closest comrades and look after them with greater responsibility and authority. That was his greatest desire above all else, one he would swear before them during the celebration of his blessing by the Lord of Geo.

          Though he did eventually fail to keep his promise to them when a conflict with Fatui, and severely underestimating them, left his group all slaughtered or near death, himself included. With his last lingering traces of full consciousness, he lamented not being strong enough to protect them all, and expected to meet his shameful end along with them.

          However his survival had been ensured when Danae had stumbled across the massacre. Though initially focused on eliminating the injured and resting Fatui and with her own hatred of Treasure Hoarders having her near ready to ditch them all as it was, it was due to her having determined his potential usefulness upon noting his Vision that prompted her to nurse him back to health.

          Deliberately leaving all the others to their fates, as she didn’t need them.

          When Tua would ask later after awakening, she would swear they were all goners by the time she had found him. That Tua had supposedly been the only one strong enough to survive because of his Vision.

          Grief would take hold, but he wouldn’t linger on that feeling too much. Not enough for it to consume him, anyways. Not when his savior made him an offer to come with her, a suggestion to carry on in his comrades’ names and honor their memories in continuing to plunder and seek the treasures they'd so craved. Feeling both indebted to her and a thrumming need to protect someone once more now that he was without a family ( he dared not return to his father nor join up with a new Hoarder faction after such a harrowing defeat ), he would choose to follow Danae to Mondstadt.

          Along the way and upon reaching their destination, they would take up mercenary work and end up wrapped up in the group they currently associate with now, after participating in an attempt on the young head of the Snake-Eyes gang alongside others like them. Said hit actually having placed by the young head, Ozzy, himself, using it as a ploy for recruitment to test if Danae had been worth Da'Lun's recommendation to his group. Tua likewise making it out alive alongside her and having demonstrated his immense strength and capabilities had been the icing on the cake. He was more than happy to accept the offer to join after that, no need for incentives or anything.

          Well, okay, maybe the pay grade and further chances to seek riches while with them was a pretty good incentive. That, and being able to take part in a whole new gang he could protect and grow stronger with helped convince him, too. There was something reassuring about being able to protect them them of all people, those who didn’t need to depend wholly on him and could defend themselves should his strength fail them. But would still rely on his skills to add to their own, and truly ensure they would all be okay. And he will make sure they would be. He refused to lose any one of 'his own' ever again, swearing the very same oath he gave his late comrades before.

          He will protect his newfound family, with all he has. Whatever it takes.

Mason Ennosigaeus (17): Sidon’s actual biological child. He was stolen away from his family by Morjena when she had found out of his existence, snatching him during the chaos she'd set off after tricking Eremites into looting the caravan the man's wife had traveled with on her way to the main city. It was a move meant to ensure Danae had no competition to being the man’s heir, especially after the woman and her attendants had been killed in the ensuing struggle. Danae was supposed to kill Mason upon being left with him, as Morjena had thought she’d thoroughly beaten the heart out of her. When it turned out that she hadn’t and even wound up with an attachment to the boy, Mason became an opportunity for Morjena to ensure Danae stuck around, regardless of the abuse she faced, regardless of how much harder she became to control the older she got.

           Mason himself was frequently abused by Morjena while Danae was gone and quickly came to rely on the latter for everything. Not that it necessarily meant he was entirely helpless. His weak constitution left him frail as it was, sure, but in truth, Danae never failed to endlessly dote on him every chance she was home to see him, even going as far as to sacrifice her own meals for his sake. She would even forgo sleep to guard him against Morjena as best she could, and when she did, she would deliberately sleep in a way that if the woman pulled anything, she would be the one to take the brunt of her mother’s abrupt assaults. Every little thing he could ever want or need and THEN some was his at his command, and without hesitation. He need only ask. She couldn't offer him comforts like reassurances and gentleness, but this, this she could do for him. And he was wholly all for it, appreciating the one good thing he had amid the horrid life he was stuck in.

             Inevitably, her boundless devotion and their environment twisted him up as badly as it had her, albeit in a different way. The one who truly wound up heartless and cruel, through and through, just as Morjena was, had been him.

          He may come off as shy and unassuming but in truth, he is twice as vicious and self-serving as Danae, behind the gentle demeanor. He is the one person who can ask of her to do anything at his whim, no matter what it is, no matter how hurt she would end up in the process. And he's used that, time and again to sic her on whoever it was he so chose, be it strangers for his own amusement or even people he's realized she started to get a little too close to, in selfish need to ensure she wouldn't start giving away her loyalties. To test that she truly did mean her loyalties to him, and act accordingly if she hesitated or doubted. In his eyes, he still needed her to survive, after all. Especially after an encounter with hilichurls had nearly taken his life, and had cost him his legs just above his knees, even after being rushed to Birmastan.

          At the same time, he is also the person others could use to strongarm Danae into damn near anything if they hold him captive, as any threats to him lead her to be all to eager to comply for his safety ( though woe betide those who lose him as a bargaining chip at any point during ). He is the One and Only Thing she has left to lose, but the feeling is not mutual. It hasn’t been from the moment she’d left him at the Akademiya on his own.

          Even having been left in the lap of luxury when she'd been forced to flee, being torn from her side and the endless doting, from his greatest asset, left him stewing in a resentful rage. His bitterness and broken heart earned him a Cryo Vision amid the enraged outburst within his room, gleaming enticingly within the wreckage of her final gift to him. That Vision, however, he deemed the greatest gift of all, and one he thoroughly believes was the Tsaritsa’s personal wish to him and show of support.

         As such, as of earning his Vision, he swiftly abandoned the idea of staying at the Akademiya. Instead, he sought to join the Fatui, using his power as incentive to be kept of use to them alongside the Cicin Mages. Though he was sure to mask what he did, telling Danae he got to travel for his studies so she never suspects. So her constant stream of money and gifts from afar never end, having them brought to him by agents he roped into his whims that happened to be stationed in Sumeru.

          In learning she had also once joined the Fatui only to abruptly disappear, he knew before any of the lot that she was still alive, and elected to keep this fact to himself, to ensure none of his comrades could seek out and find her. However his intentions are far from protective out of any genuine concern. He has full intentions to personally hunt her down and make her face the full consequences for abandoning him. And the Fatui, too, of course. But if possible, he would like to be the one to bring her end himself. To look her right in the eyes as he would use his Vision to make of her a pristine statue for himself to keep.

         Maybe then she’ll actually keep her promise to never leave his side.

[lovinglokilaufeyson]

That’s What I Call Repressed Sexual Tension - A.A.

Pairings: Astarion x Fem!Reader (Paladin)

Warnings: 18+, Pining, Baldur’s Gate 3 Act I spoilers (I’ve only just now gotten to Act II), Smut (Sub!Reader x Dom!Astarion) – Fingering, P-in-V, Breast Fondling, NOT proofread, Astarion’s a bit of a perv – but still gentle, Fluff, Astarion is whipped (and calls you sickeningly sweet pet names), you’re kind of oblivious; I tried to make this as body-inclusive as I could, but still Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 4,230

Summary: You were nearly certain that you hated Astarion and Astarion hated you. Until one day, after battle, you decide to partake in a wash. So does Astarion, much to your surprise. The truth of yours and Astarion’s true feelings towards one another is revealed.

A/N: Hey guys, welcome to the new hyperfixation! Right now I’m doing a playthrough of BG3 and I’m OBSESSED with Astarion. I’ve also read quite a few stories on here, and felt the need to provide my own as well. Please let me know what you think! Expect to see more Astarion in the future on this page!

God, you loathed Astarion. Or so you thought.

He was a selfish, reckless, devious pig. And he knew it too.

Little did you know, Astarion’s behaviors were exacerbated due to, well, you. Obviously his aura of cocky arrogancy radiated regardless of who was around, but around you he felt the need to… cover, more. Secretly, he was quite smitten for you. But obviously, he didn’t need you to know that. You had just finished battling it out against the goblins, which had been a tiring battle. Now, you were headed back to Emerald Grove. “Darling, you know, you didn’t have to smite him. That was kind of a waste of energy for you” Astarion sauntered over, making a quip at you. “You know, Ass, we won, didn’t we? Does it even matter? We’re going back to camp now; I’ll be resting soon.”

Ass was the nickname that you had so lovingly given him one night after he had drunk from you for the first time. You woke up to find him leaning over you, fangs exposed, ready to press them against your neck. After you had willingly allowed him to continue, you woke up woozy and drowsy, almost unable to walk. He came to check on you, making fun of your trembling. “Wow, darling. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who got lucky last night.” He winked.

“Shove it, you ass.” You snapped back. “Eh, I’ve been called worse, I assure you.” “Well, say hello to your new nickname, Ass.” “Quite clever darling, it’s almost as if it’s a shortened ver-“ you cut him off. “You ever want a taste of my blood again, you shut your mouth.” He clamped his mouth shut almost instantaneously, his lips forming into an impressive pout.

Since that day, Astarion had been relatively whipped by you. The sight of you trembling, the actual kindness that you displayed towards him in allowing him his first taste of “thinking” blood. God, he would trade all of his meals just for a taste of your blood again. He hadn’t gotten a taste again, but he frequently inquired about the subject and whether or not you’d be willing to allow him to indulge yet again. The real reason he had even said anything about your energy level post-battle was due to the fact that he would prefer you to save your energy for other circumstances, namely him drinking your blood – or other things. Other, dirtier things.

The trek back to camp was long and tiring. But you were alive, and that was all that mattered. You had Karlach and Gale along with you as well, thankfully. So you weren’t alone with the vampire. Although, he would have preferred it that way. He was hoping that he would have a chance alone with you later in the evening. Typically, other members of the group would jump at the chance to simply be in your presence, so he rarely got the opportunity. Tonight would be different, he reassured himself.

You decided that this late afternoon would be a prime opportunity for a wash. You had slept for about an hour to regain your strength, and Shadowheart had used her magic to mend you. Of course, Astarion had kept a close eye on you to make sure you were alright. So, when you wandered off, Astarion followed. “She needs supervision” he had told the rest of the group. Then, he sauntered off after you, careful not to make his presence known. He was a stealthy one, that’s for sure, and it came in quite handy in situations like these.

The nearby pond was mostly still water, despite the glorious waterfall that fell from the rocks that formed above it, clearly streaming from a larger body of water nearby. The rocks were all fairly dark and gray. The pond itself had strikingly blue-green water, that was still clear mostly. There were spots where algae had developed and broken off, but the water still cleaned better than the majority that you had witnessed in your travels. This place had become your own personal spa, in a sense.

He watched from afar as you began to strip your clothing off. He hadn’t been able to make a full assessment on you yet, as he had only seen slivers of your bare skin between the top and the bottoms of your pajamas, although he always hoped to see more. And now, he was going to. Finally.

You began at the top, peeling the shirt from your bodice, revealing your bra underneath. It was a translucent-white, which effectively made Astarion’s breath hitch in his chest. He could have taken red, black, blue, whatever other color you desired. But – white? Gods, it made his mind wander. And his cock harden. He couldn’t help the way that you made him feel. He had spent too many nights alone in his tent, at least for his liking. Next to be revealed were your legs, which looked beautiful despite various scrapes, bruises and cuts scattered about them. His only wish now was to have them wrapped around him – anywhere and everywhere. Around his head, around his pelvis, around his legs as he cuddled you softly to sleep in his tent. Ran his hands through your locks. Kept on high alert – just in case. He always did, but it would feel more important if he had something so precious to protect.

Astarion’s daydreaming almost tore him from the sight in front of him. Almost. The next time he looked, you began removing your bra. “Oh Gods…” Astarion spoke, thankfully quietly enough to maintain the secrecy of his presence. Your breasts were no longer under their cover, and Astarion could hardly contain himself any longer. He cupped the bulge in his pants gently, he needed the slightest bit of friction in that area. The next to be revealed was your glorious heat, not entirely cleanly shaven, but clearly well-maintained.

It was within the next few minutes that you decided to indulge in the water, laying a towel out on a nearby rock for after your dip. He noticed you head towards the waterfall, your hips swaying generously for his eyes, and he almost let his focus falter.  Astarion then made the decision to make his move, sliding his shoes off, then stripping himself of his pants, shirt, and underwear. He also made the conscious decision to sneak your own clothes away from the towel you had to delicately laid out, perfectly upon the rock. Just because he was mildly infatuated with you, didn’t mean he would play nice. In fact, it made him want to play even rougher.

You were fairly oblivious to the rogue in the shade, currently your only focus was relishing in the waterfall and running your hands through your hair, combing it out gently with your fingernails. It was the most relaxed you had felt in the past 24 hours. Little did you know, a certain rogue had set his sights on you – hoping to relax you even further.

The water was lukewarm from basking in the sun for the majority of the day. Exotic flora surrounded the pond, making it look inviting and tropical. However, some of the plants could be deadly, which kept both yourself and Astarion from getting close to them. Astarion glided himself into the water, careful to maintain quiet and stealthy as to not alert you to his presence – yet. He glanced at your bottom again, taking it all in. Soon, he hoped you’d be all his. If everything went as planned.

The water barely covered Astarion’s pelvis as he floated over to you. His fingertips played along the surface of the water, taking in the beautiful scenery. It wasn’t often that Astarion was able to do so. But now, he felt relaxed, yet almost – nervous? For what was to come ahead. It wasn’t often that Astarion felt unnerved in this way. You just meant so much to him. And he didn’t want to lose that. He began to contemplate his current choices and whether or not this would end poorly for you both. Perhaps you would be enraged, forcing him out of the party and never to speak to you again. Perhaps you would denounce his desires and state that you longed for someone else.

To his surprise, you yelped and jumped, trying to cover yourself as much as possible. You had seen him. You hid behind the waterfall, sinking further and further into the wall of stone. You covered your bosom with your arms, much to Astarion’s disappointment. Astarion’s confidence rose again, approaching your form behind the waterfall. “No need to hide away, darling. It’s just me, after all” he tutted. By the time he had crept fully into the other, more secluded side of the waterfall, you had sunk into the water, on your knees now, merely your head poking out of the water. Your eyes looked up at him almost submissively, which nearly made his knees buckle in excitement.

“What are you doing here, Ass? How long have you been here?”

“Long enough, my sweet. Just out admiring the view, washing up, you know.” As much as Astarion longed to tower over you, he needed to get down to your level. He sank down himself, until his eyes were meeting yours, just above the surface of the water. You were always quick to spit back at Astarion, but given the nature of the situation, you simply couldn’t. Any thoughts that you had about snipping at him were completely and entirely blocked out of your consciousness. Instead, you uncertainly inquired “how much did you see?”

“Oh Gods, dear. I’ve seen everything.” His response made you shutter, although the smirk placed upon his lips led you to believe that he was indeed happy about this fact. You wondered why. “Let me help wash you, petal?” You shifted for a moment, pondering the possibility. Astarion had already seen all of you, hadn’t he? You wondered for a moment whether or not to decline. Maybe he was just trying to be helpful, you thought. Your mind raced through a variety of complex and simple possibilities, trying to track each one. Astarion caught on to this, merely catching your attention with a “dove?” “I- uhm- oo-kay” you responded slowly beginning to rise out of the water, and Astarion followed. You kept your arms firmly planted around your breasts, careful not to reveal yourself too much.

Astarion stood behind you, washing your back with handfuls of the waterfall that he so gently placed on your neck, shoulder blades, and spine. “Darling, you do know I have seen those breathtaking breasts of yours, correct?” You nodded hesitantly in response, still in moderate shock from the present situation. You thought you absolutely detested Astarion, and he you. But, here he was, helping you wash blood and dirt off of your back, so – intimately. You had been intimate with people before, however, this felt slightly different. And it felt different to Astarion as well, unbeknownst to you. Good different. Slowly, you began to drop your arms from your breasts. Astarion watched intently as your nipples were freed once more, it was pertinent that they were chilled from their prominence. “You know,” he whispered into your ear from behind “if you are scared of anyone happening to see them – I could hold them on your behalf.” Astarion’s voice sounded as if it was winking at you. Truthfully, now that Astarion was aware of how shell shocked you were, he knew he needed to be gentle with you. At least at first.

“Uhm – well I – uhm well sure” you managed to stutter out. “Good girl” Astarion whispered into your ear once more, bringing his hands to play with your nipples. You let out a soft mewl at the sensation. “Ooh, you like that, don’t you love?” Astarion teased, tutting his tongue again. You nodded feverishly, although this did not seem to please him. “Use your words, beautiful.” “Yes, I do Astarion. I-It feels g-good.”

Astarion’s hand molded and palmed your breasts, and he went to speak. However, you had beaten him to it. “Pl-lease m-more” you begged. He took one of his hands, bringing it down to your heat. You were nervous, as you were fairly sure you were embarrassingly wet down there, and your body began to reflect that. “Darling, why are you shaking? Please, don’t give in for my sake, I want you to want this.” Astarion spoke with more care than he ever had with you. You turned to face him “Ass, you fool, of course I want this…” you had built up confidence to divert back to his nickname, which he was glad for. But then you remembered the reasoning for your timidness. You were dripping. “I- just- well- I- I am really wet.” Your cheeks reddened as you spoke, you felt yourself sinking back into timidness in front of him, but you had nowhere to hide “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for your desires, doll. I’m more than thrilled that I have been able to bring this out of you. That I have this effect on you. I was terrified of your rejection, darling girl.” Given Astarion’s newfound openness his emotions with you drove your desire for him to new heights. Your next move was to pull him into your lips, your hand wrapped around his neck as you did so. As your lips landed on his, you felt a rush of adrenaline surge through your body. Your confidence built once more, using your teeth to pull on Astarion’s bottom lip before finally releasing it. You winked, while Astarion stood in awe of your previous actions, finally stating “you cheeky little pup.” He took this opportunity to grab your waist, picking you up and lifting you out of the water. You yelped, surprised at his action. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. Astarion carried you over to where your towel lay, gently placing you down on it, then allowing himself to follow.

His leg hooked underneath you, and you willingly allowed it to push your legs apart so that he could hover between them. He leant down to place a gentle kiss upon your lips, which you welcomed. His lips were breathtakingly sweet and supple, you had felt them on your neck before, but that hardly amounted to the feeling you had now. Although his lips on your neck certainly did have the capacity to drive you mad. “Please Astarion, take me.” He wasn’t used to hearing the entirety of his name spoken from your lips. But it was a welcome thing to hear his full name fall from your lips. To know the full extent that you wanted him. Because he wanted you too. Desperately.

“Patience, my sweet.” He spoke, retreating from your form. You immediately tried to grab at him to pull him back, but then realized where he was headed. He tutted in response, speaking the word again “patience. Allow me to indulge in you.” Astarion’s lips peppered kisses along your upper thighs, before reaching his hands to assess the state of your heat. He used one hand to pull the folds of your labia apart, and the other to bring a finger to your clit. You were right, you were very, extremely wet. You whimper as his fingernail flicks across your clit. You tense, but his words bring you back down “relax, my dear.”

He spoke once more, this time with a proposition rather than a demand. “You can say no to this darling. But I would love to taste you, while I taste you.” “Huh?” For the first time, you were confused by Astarion’s words. “I would just place a little bite ‘here’ and ‘here’” he pressed into your inner thigh with two fingers, displaying where his fangs would penetrate your skin and release your sweet blood. “Then, I would drink from you while also sipping on your sweet nectar.” You nodded feverishly in response, eager for this stimulation that this would bring you. “Use your words, love.” Deviously, he placed his finger upon your clit, humming in contentment as he watched your body convulse in ecstasy in front of his eyes. “P-p-ple-ee-a-se.” You moaned out, barely able to make a single word out at this point. “I’m sorry, what was that dear? I couldn’t make that out.” “F-fuck y-you… t-te-ase.” “Oh, you will darling. You will. All in good time.”

“Bite me, Astarion. Plea-.” You finally gathered yourself together enough to state it, and you felt his fangs sink into you before you could even finish your sentence. You whimpered as he fed from your thigh, holding it down with one hand, the other arm resting on your opposite hip. Gods, you were delectable. You had brought your hands to tangle within his hair, gently massaging as he began. He suckled your skin, allowing him to intake more blood, but also causing your skin to latch closely to his tongue, where hundreds of blood vessels burst and petechiae formed, leaving a carmine-tinged love mark. A small “hmm” of pleasure left his lips as he pulled away, the circular marks that his teeth left were prominent, and bound to leave a mark. You felt woozy, similarly to the other times he had fed from you, but almost blissfully so this time. “Mmmm” the moan left your lips easily, flooding Astarion’s ears with pleasure. “You alright my love?” He peaked up at you, and you nodded. “Just a little lightheaded is all.”

“Alright, my sweet. If you need me to stop, just say the word.” You nodded as he brought his tongue to your clitoris, circling around it in a perfect spiral, suckling on it whilst savoring the taste of your sweetness. “Mmmm” you whimpered, which made Astarion’s instincts nearly feral in nature. He brought a hand to play inside of your heat, which was still rapturously wet for him. He started with one initially, and nearly moaned himself as he felt your walls clamp around just one finger. He began to imagine what it would be like to have your core wrapped around his throbbing member. Even though he had released it from his undergarments, he was still desperate from the friction only you could provide him with, the only thing that could give him relief. But right now wasn’t about him. It was very much about you, and him providing pleasure for you.

As if you could read his mind, you used his hair to pull him away from you. “Astarion, please, get inside me. Now.” You demanded. “Although you are in no position to make demands here, my sweet, I wholeheartedly agree with you.” “Yes, sir.” You agreed with him. In this particular position, Astarion was completely and utterly in control. And you think you liked it that way.

Astarion towered over you for a moment, analyzing every bit of your form. He let his eyes roam over your breasts, stomach, thighs, and then back to your slick core that ached for his entrance. And who was he to deny you such pleasure? He hovered over you once more, placing a quick yet compassionate kiss on your lips. His penis sat in between the folds of your labia, the member wettened from the contact. He grinded down ever so slightly, allowing pressure to be placed on your clitoris yet again. Then, with one swift movement, he slid back, and then within the muscular cavern of your vagina. “Fuck” you responded, you were ready for him, or so you thought. He was huge, and you weren’t sure the last time you had taken a lover. He held himself inside of you, his tip nestled against your cervix, waiting until he could proceed. “Gods darling, you’re so tight.” Astarion prompted. His pelvis pressed perfectly against yours, your thighs spread to make room for his shape.

Once your muscles had accommodated him, you looked up at him with dangerously innocent eyes and simply nodded. He took this as his sign to continue, sliding his length out of you slowly at first, and then pressing into you once again. “Mhhm” you moaned wantonly, writhing in delight. Astarion’s movements became more fluid, rocking his hips so that he moved in and out of you with ease.

You moaned over and over with his rhythm, and he pulled your legs over his shoulders, somehow enabling him to pound into you even deeper. Your core quenched around him, tightening around him even further. “Oh, sweetness. Can you take me inside of you?” He asked, and your response was a ferocious nod. “Please do” you whimpered. “Are you close, my love?” he asked, seemingly very concerned about you reaching climax together. “Mhmm love.” Astarion’s heart fluttered, knowing that you too, were close, and that the pet name he so loved throwing out could also be received.

After several more pumps inside of you, your muscles began to convulse, writhing around Astarion’s member, holding him more tightly than before. Your shaking released Astarion’s own pleasure, and he flooded your cavern with ropes of cum as you finished together. You moaned wantonly.

Astarion pulled out, allowing his fluids to begin dripping out of you. He placed a swift peck on your lips, then sliding next to you on the towel. “Gods, Astarion, that was phenomenal.”  You spoke as you were finally able to catch your breath. You turned to face him. He placed a hand on your cheek, using his thumb to rub gently. “Thank you darling. That was… amazing.” His crimson eyes stared into yours, analyzing every breath, every possible thought going through that beautiful mind of yours.

“Tell me, what’s on your mind, my sweet?” Astarion inquired softly. Even though the intimacy you two had shared was incredible, he was still scared of the feelings – or lack thereof – that you may harbor for him. “Gods, I just- I didn’t think that would ever happen.” Astarion looked at you with a puzzled face, so you clarified, responding “I thought you hated me, and to be honest, I thought I hated you too, from how much we bickered.” “Ohhh, darling” Astarion sounded exasperated. “That’s what I call ‘repressed sexual tension.’” You smacked your face into your hands out of embarrassment. “I suppose you’re probably right” you mumbled. Astarion pulled you back upwards, placing a kiss on your forehead. “You’re just fine, my love.”

Your stomach rumbled, indicating to you that it would be desiring to eat soon. Astarion pulled you towards him, wrapping an arm around your bodice so as to keep you warm. That, and he knew that your time, for now, would be coming to an end soon. “Someone’s famished from battle today?” He asked, and you nodded. “I am quite much so, yes.” He savored himself in one final kiss on your lips. “Well darling, as much as I would love to lay here forever with you, I know you need nourishment to recover from today.” He winked.

“Yeah, yeah. One last thing before we go?” Astarion nodded, ushering you for your question. “What exactly are we?” You inquired. Your feelings were so jumbled you didn’t know what to think regarding the whole situation and where you were to stand with Astarion now. Was this just a once-off? What did he want from this? “Well, I had hoped that me marking you as mine would assert where I stand on the subject. I want you, in every sense of the word, my dear.” As he finished speaking, you had a giddy grin placed upon your mouth. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” You almost shrieked in excitement, but then decided to restrain yourself. You were adorable. Truly. “Will you come to my tent tonight, after everyone has fallen into slumber?” Astarion asked. “As much as I would love that, I’m really worn out from today, and I don’t know if I could-“ he cut you off “just for a cuddle, my love.” You nodded in response to this.

You began to rise, moving your hands around you, trying to find your clothing that was scattered by your towel. “Ass, where the hell are my clothes?” You turned to look at him, and he merely looked at you with a cheeky, blushed look on his face. “I can’t tell you it wasn’t me.” He winked. “Come on, please…” you begged. “They’re by mine, over by that rock over there.” He gestured to the rock that he had hidden behind. Astarion got up as well, grabbing the towel and wrapping it around your figures as you waltzed over to the rock and began to dress yourselves, Astarion taking extra time to admire you.

You walked back to camp, and Astarion shortly after. You didn’t want to make things so dreadfully obvious to your companions. The regular bickering commenced shortly after. But only you two knew what truly happened behind closed doors. Astarion finally had you, and that was like a dream to him. As he was unwinding for the night, and the stars had settled in the sky, he heard footsteps approaching his tent and your whisper, stating “Hey, love, I think everyone’s gone off to bed.” He eagerly approached the curtain, revealing your beauty behind it. “Come in, please, my darling.” Astarion was happier than he had been in 200 years, as long as he was with you.

[politemenacephd]

Arachnophilia (Part Three)

Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)

Chapter Masterlist 🕷️

Contents (part three): Mating cycles, rutting, P in V sex, monster/human relationship, breeding kink, oral (reader recieving).

You're a new recruit to the spider society, and you've just been sent on your first mission on one condition: Do not contact Miguel's variant in this universe. When your mission goes wrong you break that rule very quickly, desperate for help, only to find that Miguel's variant here is not what you expected. He's stoic but kind, awkward but sincere, and he's also an enormous human-spider hybrid: a drider, both human and arachnid. You decide to continue seeing Miguel in secret, with the rest of the society unaware. You really want to stay friends after all. That is, until Miguel suddenly goes into a rut. Word count: 6836 notes: smut starts now pls enjoy lol

You didn’t tell Miguel about his variant, nor did you tell anyone else.

You didn’t know exactly why Miguel didn’t like him. Mig had suggested that it was some territorial display, but that seemed hard to believe. You supposed you would just have to live with the curiosity. You knew that any questions you asked Miguel would result in getting stonewalled, or worse, may lead to them finding out you’d broken a direct order.

So you kept your visits secret, and you kept them frequent, because in truth you liked this Miguel a lot. You certainly liked him more than anyone in the HQ. Not to say you disliked your other colleagues, but you enjoyed your time with him in a way you never had with them.

Miguel was strangely sweet. He was incredibly awkward, clearly lacking much social interaction since his unfortunate splicing incident, but he did his best to be kind and accommodating.

You spent full days when not on call just hanging around in the glade with him. At first you just talked, but over time you started getting up to more.

He took you on trips to the top of the forest where you could see the stars, even letting you ride on his back when you got tired. You sat beneath silk shields while it rained and dozed off at his side. You helped brush out the abdomen fur he couldn’t reach, and he in return helped massage your wrists when they got sore from webbing.

You brought him food and tech for him to experiment on, and he in turn brought you little items made of his silk. One time you mentioned that you’d run out of socks so he knitted you a pair, and another time he patched up your suit for free. He always said you attention was payment enough.

You’d started calling him Migs, and he’d started calling you ‘arañita’ as a show of friendship.

You were quickly falling head over heels for the man. He was undeniably handsome and just so attentive to you in ways no one else had ever been, it was hard not to crave him.

Today you were prepped to leave as usual. You hadn’t been called for any missions and you could see your superiors were also free, meaning they’d definitely get picked first if anything happened, making today a sure write-off.

In a quiet corridor you began inputting the location of Mig’s universe. You weren’t expecting anyone to come by here, but you were very unlucky.

‘What are you doing?’

You jumped as a man’s voice barked behind you. That voice was uncannily familiar now.

‘A-Ah, boss, hey!’

You spun to find Miguel staring down at you with his usual sour expression, his lips pursed and brows knotted. Nowadays he always seemed bothered by something. You offered him a polite smile.

‘Is- is everything okay, or—’

‘What are you doing?’

His bark of an order made you freeze. God, he was so different to your Mig. Spider Miguel almost never raised his voice. He was quiet, stoic, awkward but trying his best to be empathetic. This Miguel seemed so tightly wound in comparison.

‘I- I’m just, going home’ you said, shiftily hiding your watch. Miguel narrowed his eyes.

‘Why are you up here?’

‘I’m just… I’m just, getting out of the way so I can send a few messages before going’ you said, your politeness beginning to slip. You didn’t appreciate his prying.

He took a step closer, boxing you into the corner. You felt so small in his presence.

Then, to your confusion, he closed his eyes and breathed. It wasn’t normal breathing though, oh no, this was deep. It was long, drawn out, deliberate. Was he, smelling? Was he smelling you?

When he opened his eyes again, they were burning red, their light reflecting onto your cheek.

For just a brief moment your gut knotted with anxiety. Why wasn’t he moving? What was he going to do? You realized that in your attempt to be alone you’d wound up in a corridor corner with no other spiders around. How had he even known you were here? Was he following you?

‘Hmm.’

To your relief, Miguel grunted and withdrew. He looked even more tightly wound than before. ‘Just- be, safe’ he mumbled, and without another word he stormed away. His body looked rigid.

You wasted no time in drawing up a portal the second he was gone.

On the other side it was a beautiful evening, with the sky above radiating soft, deep shades of indigo and red. You hurried into the forest with just the light of your watch to guide your way.

You tried your best to forget Miguel as you followed the usual landmarks to Mig. The mushroom patch by the dead stump, the little winding brook you had to jump across, the patch of stones which you’d stacked to look like a tiny house.

Why was Miguel acting so weird? He’d never paid attention to you before. You’d felt like a fly in his space, an annoying gnat he was trying to push off onto anyone else, so to have him cornering and questioning you was absurd.

What had changed? Did he somehow know you were visiting his variant?

You frowned at that thought. Jesus, you weren’t a child. You didn’t have to obey him, this was your private, personal matter. Mig was your friend. You had a right to see him.

At last you entered the big clearing where you and Mig usually met to hang out. You were surprised to see he wasn’t there.

‘Mig?’

You called his name and kicked a few stones around. Where was he? You cried his name again and spun in a circle. ‘MIG! Mig!’

A soft, sweet breath suddenly hit your nape. You froze up.

You could feel his shadow at your back. You could feel the weight of his body, the brush of his breath. You could see the little hint that his eyes were close, as tiny, reflected shards of red light began to dance over your shoulder.

You grinned and spun around, wrapping your arms around his waist. You squeezed in tight to that familiar body.

‘Mig! You—ARGH!’

With a groan your body was smooshed into the dirt. His entire monstrous form came down on your frail chest, pinning you to the ground. His clawed human hands found your wrists and your throat, holding them in place, as his abdomen came down on your lower torso. He rustled slightly against you as you wheezed.

‘M-Mig?’ you croaked.

Your eyes met. His were burning red, almost bloodshot, wide and dilated. He panted on your face, his fangs bared. He hissed.

‘You… You…’

He panted those words a few times. He was shaking, you realized, like he was holding something back at great physical expense. After a moments silence he grunted and physically forced himself off.

‘Mierda- mierda, ah- I’m so sorry, arañita, I’m- so sorry.’

You shuffled into a sitting position. ‘Mig? What- are you okay?’

‘You need to go’ he insisted. He was pacing wildly now, drifting closer to you before hurrying back. It was like some invisible force was driving him back to your body.

It was only then that it clicked. The tension in his body, the heavy breathing, the dilated pupils and twitching abdomen. Your spider senses picked it up quickly once the panic died down.

‘Oh, you’re—’

He was rutting. Of course he was, you thought, as your face burned up with embarrassment. He was a spider after all. He was in breeding mode, and your presence must be an unbearable distraction.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t- want to conduct myself, poorly’ he grunted.

‘No, it’s okay- you, I mean you’re doing fine! I get it, it’s not your fault, you’re- you’re you, I get it. I can um- I mean is there anything I can do? To help? I could—’  

You tried to take a step forward, hoping to comfort him by taking his foreleg paw, but he pulled away. He’d never pulled away from you before.

‘No, that’s not- you, you’re making it worse’ he blurted.

Instinctively you frowned. ‘I’m- what do you mean I’m making it worse? I’m not, trying to—’

‘I’m sorry’ he blurted again, his hands raised. ‘I’m sorry, arañita, you- mm, fuck—’ He paused to scrape his claws down his face. They didn’t break the skin but it was clear he was trying to claw back some control. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. You’re right. You haven’t done anything. It’s not your fault, but you—’

He put his hand to his mouth, his eyes turning to the side. He looked horribly embarrassed.

‘You, you’re…’

‘I’m, what?’

He rubbed his jaw and groaned a little, as if it was painful to admit. ‘You- you’re in heat’ he hissed.

You blinked at him, too shocked to reply right away. ‘I… I’m, wh- I’m what?’

‘You’re in heat, arañita’ Miguel repeated through gritted teeth. ‘You’re- ovulating. I can smell it. The- you’re letting off, pheromones, and it’s…’

‘It’s setting you off’ you said, your voice wheezing as you said it. Miguel gave a mortified nod. Now both too embarrassed to face each other you turned and stared into the forest, your arms tightly folded as if they would hold you together. 

‘I’m sorry, Mig, I didn’t—’

‘You have nothing to be sorry about’ Miguel insisted. You began tapping your foot.

‘You- I would have understood, Mig. I DO understand. You could have told me.’

‘You’re my friend’ he insisted. ‘I didn’t want to make things weird, but I can’t… God, you smell so, good—’ Your heart thudded a little harder as Miguel turned in a circle, trying to hide his arousal.

‘I’m a pervert’ he hissed. ‘I’m a- filthy, pervert—’

‘What? No, you’re—’

‘I can’t lie.’

You paused at Miguel’s aggressive interruption. You could see his claws were out, his hands trembling as he struggled to maintain this polite conversation.

‘I can’t- lie, even if I wanted to. It’s not in my nature. So listen to me. Listen to me clearly.’

You slowly nodded and settled down on the earth, bidding him to continue. He swallowed hard. It was clearly hard for him to get out, but as another breeze blew your scent into his nose something primal overtook him.

‘All I can think about, is breeding with you’ he rasped. ‘I want you to have my babies, arañita. All I want to do is just- tear through those clothes, and taste your pussy, and web you down so I can penetrate you. I want to- feel you, from the inside. I want to fill your tight little cunt with my seed and plug you so no one else can have you. I want my genes in you so much it hurts.’

You felt your face getting warmer with each word. You were a little offput by the feel of your own clit throbbing in response to his fantasy.

‘If you stay, I won’t have any control. My- urge, is burning me up. So, please…’

With a soft whine he shuffled again, trying his best to not get erect as your dizzying scent filled his nose. You watched as he tried to turn away.

He was giving you the chance to leave. You could go, now, and presumably return when his rut had died down and your ovulation had ended. You could go and pretend this never happened.

That’s what he was offering. But, is that what you wanted?

Part of you was afraid. You didn’t know what would happen if you stayed, and yet, another part of you was deeply curious, and that part was being fed by your fear. You didn’t want to admit it, but the fear aroused you.

You couldn’t bring yourself to leave. Instead, you began to tread the waters of this strange, unbroached pool, coaxing a little more.

‘Why me?’

He turned at your question. It was clear that it was getting harder for him to resist the urge.

‘Is it, just- I’m close by and I’m in heat, so… You know, I’m just- convenient?’

‘No. No, arañita. You’re- perfect’ he murmured, his voice dipping into a slight moan. He seemed like he was on a hair trigger, physically straining under the weight of his own lust.

‘You’re in heat, yes, but it’s more than that. I like you, you’re- kind, and powerful, and thoughtful. You have spider genes, like me, so- we’re genetically compatible. And you’re- you’re, so, small.’ He whined on the word small, like it did something extra perverse to him. ‘Small, safe, strong, beautiful. Unbred.’

He crept a little closer and you sank into the floor, letting his body overshadow your own. He was shaking with intensity, crawling on his belly like a dog begging for scraps.

‘You’re too perfect, you are- priceless. Mi tesoro. I would do anything to have you. Which is why…. Please, I can’t—’

He turned again and physically bit his lip. You could feel his tension like a force, as if just his desire to grab you was manifesting in the air.

And yet, still, you refused to leave.

You couldn’t help it, something about him enticed you. Perhaps you were sensing his hormonal changes as well, and it was swaying some deep and primal part of your mind. Perhaps you were just horny.

But god, you were a pervert too. The idea of that massive man in all his monstrous glory holding you down and taking you in the dirt was so incredibly arousing.

And it’s not like you weren’t attracted to him outside of that. He wasn’t a normal man, but he was ruggedly handsome. You liked his face. You liked his chiselled jaw and open, honest eyes. You liked his thick, stocky, muscular body.

There was an allure to him, one you were quickly realizing might just be enough to make you stay.

You remained seated in the dirt beneath him, and gradually he began to turn back. His eyes widened. You hadn’t left.

‘Are, you—’

‘I can… at least, relieve some of that tension, maybe. If you wanted’ you murmured.

He moved closer on instinct. You could sense the tension in his body as his spider legs tapped back and forth. He was holding back the urge to do something. Web you down? Grab you? All those ideas excited you.

‘I would be a good mate’ he whispered as he bent down towards you. His legs folded so his torso could find yours, his clawed hands cupping your face. ‘I’m strong. I’m fit. I have good genes. Our babies would be well cared for.’

You knew his hormones were compelling him to speak. You didn’t know how to say that none of that stuff bothered you, that all you cared about was letting this ruggedly handsome beast rail you into the dirt until you couldn’t feel your legs.

‘Can- I mean, can we, actually… Are we compatible?’ you whispered.

‘I have some- adaptations, but, yes. I can attach the genetic package to my pedipalps and transfer, or…’ Almost shyly he moved upward, showing off his abdomen. ‘As a partial human, I could… May I show you?’

You gave a quick nod. He looked a little embarrassed at first, but in the heat of the moment he caved.

A small slit widened on the abdomen beneath his torso, right between his two smaller forelegs. The black and red fur parted to reveal an erect phallus. It was red with black veins, long with a slight curve and a thick point at the end.

‘With you, I can just… transfer directly.’

You felt your whole body throb at the sight. Without thinking your hand drifted forward, measuring his erection with your fingers and palm. You almost choked; he was huge. You wrapped your fist around the thick, girthy, veiny shaft and gave it a soft stroke.

‘Ah- mi arañita—’

Miguel’s lips fell apart at your sudden touch. His whole body shuddered and jolted, trying to push it into your hand. You gave in to your own throbbing clit and gingerly gave it a lick.

‘A-Ah-! F-F-Fuck—’ His mouth widened with a mixture of shock and excitement, as the brush of your tongue caused his fangs to flex and involuntarily squirt venom down his jaw.

His whole body shivered with excitement as his phallus throbbed in your hand, precum pooling from the tip. You tasted a bit of that too; it was strangely sweet.

‘Okay, okay- careful, arañita, I don’t- I’ll ravage you if you keep this up. I don’t want to hurt you. Let- let me do you, instead’ he whined.

‘Do, me? How—’

You squeaked as he tripped you, causing your body to fall into his outstretched human arms. With his spider legs he began to draw a line of silk, carefully knitting a kind of sticky hammock for your body to lay on top of. He dropped you into it the second he was done.

‘Come here, mi cariño.’

He bent until his human half was against your belly, his lips kissing from your navel to your inner thigh. You shuffled on the web but its light, sticky coating kept you stuck on your back.

He cupped your lower back in his clawed hand, drawing you up. With your legs now on either side of his head, he buried his face into your clothed pussy.

‘Mm…’

He breathed in deep, letting those sweet pheromones only he could smell fill his brain. His erect phallus throbbed.

‘You- smell so good.’

With his fangs he grabbed and tore a chunk of your suit aside, revealing your panties underneath.

‘H-Hey--!’

In his ravenous, pussy drunk state he didn’t even wait to remove them. He wound his tongue under the fabric and snuck a taste of your clit, eagerly lapping at the sensitive folds beneath. Your body shuddered with pleasure.

‘F-Fuck- careful, ah-‘

‘Need—more—’

With a hiss he pulled back. He allowed his claws to slice your suit from crotch to neck, splitting it open. In seconds your whole naked body was on display.

‘H-Hey, woah! I need that!’

‘I need you- please, fuck—’

His whole body shifted closer as he began to ravage every part of you he could get at. You felt his clawed hands squeezing and pinching your belly and waist as his lips caressed your chest, eagerly sucking on and biting at your nipples.

He ran a line of kisses down your body to your thighs. There, with one final, guttural growl, he tore your panties aside. You felt him breath in your scent. One deep breath in and one deep, hot breath out, one that caused your hips to squirm at the sensitivity.

‘Mine.’

With that final word he buried his face into your cunt. You let out a breathy scream, one that was quickly drowned by the empty forest. No one would hear you here but him.

Miguel continued to let out muffled groans as he sucked on your clit. He settled with his nose gently bumping the tip of your lips as he lapped at that sensitive nub, his head bobbing with each hard movement as he savoured the taste.

You were embarrassed at how quickly he managed to hit your spot. Your body was already hot and tight from just the thought of this, but the taboo of letting this monster touch you like this in the open forest was making you so much hotter.

You knew you shouldn’t be doing this. You had no idea what he could do to you, but that made it so much better.

Your skin was flushed, beading with sweat, and your clit was swollen to the point that it hurt. It was throbbing with a carnal need to be pleasured, and right now his tongue was doing a heavenly job of easing that ache. Now trapped in his web with his lips on your cunt, his gorgeous face perfectly framed between your thighs, your climax was inevitable. It rose up like a wildfire.

‘Migual- fuck, I’m gonna—’

With a soul-shattering shudder you came on his tongue. Your hips bucked with each flood of pleasure, your body jolting against your will. Your mouth fell open and a low, desperate moan left your lips, all while Miguel continued to suck on your clit.

‘Oh, fuck—fuck you’re so, good, y-you’re so good Mig, fuck…!’

Soon your body was lulling in that post-cum exhaustion, your chest heaving as you panted. You expected to have some time to recollect yourself, but Miguel had other ideas. He wiped his jaw clean of your gushing slick and pulled himself up to leer over your body. He looked utterly intoxicated, practically high off your body.

A low, grating noise left his throat as he put his left hand on your wrists, pinning them together, while his right hand went down to your soaked slit.

You didn’t see his hand enter you, but you felt it. You let out a raspy moan as one of his thick fingers penetrated your untouched hole, followed by a mewling whine as his thumb hit your overstimulated clit. He bit his lower lip as you squirmed on his hand.

‘That’s it’ he murmured, his voice husky. ‘One more for me, please. I need to- I need to make sure you’re ready for me.’

He started with one finger but soon moved to two, then finally pushing you to three. His fingers were rough and calloused from living in the forest, and you felt them very clearly as they began to squish in and out of your body.

Between the hard thrusts of his fingers and his thumb gently stroking your spot, not to mention the terrifyingly arousing image of his half spider body leering down over your head, you quickly shuddered into your second climax.

‘Good, arañita’ he praised, practically breathless as he watched you mewl and whine and spasm on his hand. His cock twitched again with anticipation. ‘Good, good arañita. Thank you.’

Miguel carefully slipped his hand aside, greedily licking your juices from his claws. You were utterly drained, your body limp at his feet.

He narrowed his eyes. You were in the perfect state.

With careful movements Miguel bent down until his hands could find yours. He interlocked your fingers together and pressed his lips to your own, and even in your dizzy state you managed to return the kiss.

The distraction of his lips allowed him to carefully pull away the rest of your tattered suit with his spider legs, leaving you fully naked. When the cold air hit your skin he parted his lips, letting his tongue slip into your mouth to further distract you. You eagerly gave in.

‘Mm- Miguel—’

His name was muffled on your lips by his own tongue as he moved to lift you into his arms. He broke the kiss once you were fully supported in his grip, allowing a long line of saliva to hang between you. He panted, hard, and licked your spit into his mouth before licking his fangs.

‘Now, mi arañita, may I have the honor of mating with you?’ he begged.

You gave a shaky, sleepy nod. ‘Y-Yes, please. Please.’

Miguel didn’t waste any time. He knew this was his one chance, and his primal spider senses were hounding him to consummate. With your body limp in his arms he crept towards one of the larger pines.

‘Shh, careful. I’m- going to put you up here, it’ll make it easier for your bodies to fit together’ he soothed. You just moaned.

Miguel held you with utmost care as he started to spin new webs, this time using them to carefully stick your body in place against the tree. He webbed your waist and belly in place before webbing your legs on either side of the trunk, keeping them spread, and at last finished by webbing your wrists together above your head.

The subtle binding was another part of his instinctual ritual. It was supposed to keep you calm. In truth, as you stirred in his web, it just excited you more.

Now bound and naked against the enormous oak you shuffled in the web, testing its strength. It held firm. It was sticky on your skin, warm and sinewy on the flesh, tight but not constrictive.

You could squirm, yes, but you couldn’t break free, and most importantly your legs were stuck in their separated position. You were shamelessly spread wide, and the cold air on your drenched sex was sending chills up your spine. Your hole clenched around nothing.

‘F-Fuck, ah- okay, okay—’

You glanced down and watched as Miguel began to climb the tree. He mounted you with absolute care, keeping his human torso close to yours as his spider body curled between your spread legs.

‘That’s it. I’ll be gentle’ he whispered. ‘I’ll be- careful, just- please, let me fuck you.’

You bit your lip as he pushed up. You could feel his phallus twitching for attention as his breath hit your forehead. You could tell even just from the tip nudging at you, desperately probing your slit, that he was going to split you open.

‘Ah- Miguel—’

He nestled into your hair, breathing in your scent. ‘This- might hurt a bit, but, I will be gentle. Just try to relax.’

‘F-Fuck—’

Your breath came short as he started to slip inside you.

His phallus was huge, smooth but huge, and his entrance was a struggle. He had to pump it carefully to get it deeper. Your slick was helping him loosen you up but even at your most aroused it was barely enough, and he was forced to nudge at your cunt to make it stretch for his girth.

He grit his teeth to stop himself pushing you too far. ‘Come on- come on, let me- in, please—’

After a good few pumps and a few squirms from you, he finally fit. He was inside you. You winced as he bottomed out.

‘F-Fuck, Mig you’re- huge—’

‘Ah… ah, that’s it. That’s it. You’re mine now, arañita. It’s done. It’s over.’

You were stuffed to the point of being immobile. Every little motion you did made you painfully aware of his cock inside you, throbbing and compressing on every inch of your insides.

You stole a shaky glance down, and realized with both horror and arousal that there was a bulge in your belly where’d he’d pushed in.

Miguel groaned and dug his claws into the bark on either side of your head. He must have sensed your discomfort as he quickly moved to keeping you distracted.

‘Mi hermosa arañita’ he praised, his lips brushing your forehead. ‘You feel- delicious.’

As he showered you in kisses and praise, he started to rut between your legs. His entire, enormous abdomen began to jerk back and forth, sliding his phallus in and out.

‘That’s it, just take it. You’re taking it so well.’

‘Fuck, fuck- Mig, you- feel so, good—’

‘That’s it, you can take it. Mm… Mm… Just let me breed with you, please.’

You lay back as he started to bite at your neck, eagerly nibbling and rolling the flesh between his fangs. You tried to adjust to the sensation.

It was strange, the feel of hot skin against your bare chest mixed with the rough, fluffy flesh of his spider half, both rubbing against your body as he pushed in and out. You could feel him moaning against your skin.

He started to thrust a little harder, drawing almost all the way out before pumping back in. You felt his abdomen smacking against yours with each gruff penetration. A cacophony of sound filled the quiet forest: the smack of skin on skin, the wet sliding squelch of slick and cum, the soft rustling of his spider body and the desperate pants and moans from your joint mouths.

You let out an extra loud moan as his cock began to rib at your g-spot. You clenched him, tight, and he scraped the bark by your head in response.

‘I can’t- believe, I- get to mate with you’ he whined. He seemed rapturous. ‘You’re such a- perfect catch.’

He began to grunt rhythmically with each insertion. You could feel him probing, touching, tasting every inch of your insides. His soft front-legs were pawing at your hips.

‘I would have fought for you’ he hissed. You clenched harder as he nudged at your cervix, right at the same moment his foreleg found its way to your clit. He began to massage that little knub as his thrusting continued.

‘I would have killed males twice my size for you. All for you.’

‘Mig…. Ah—’

You let out a shameless whine as he hit each spot. You were already overstimulated from cumming twice, and now his girthy phallus was bullying you from the inside while his sensitive foreleg began to bully your clit.

‘But you’re all mine’ he groaned. ‘You- gave, yourself- to me—’

Your bodies were almost totally glued together at this point, with sweat and webbing connecting you by the skin. His hot, sweaty abs and pecs were squished against your chest and belly, each moving in unison as he fucked you into submission.

You rasped with a mixture of pain and pleasure as he started to get rough. He bared his fangs against your cheek in a territorial display.

‘My mate. Mi tesoro. Mi arañita. Mine.’

Between the wet slip of his cock and the soft massaging of your clit, you could feel a third orgasm rising. It felt so much more intense like this. You kept tensing and twitching, your muscles squeezing him tight, allowing you to feel every single veiny inch of his shaft.

He must have noticed you getting close as he started to whine, begging and nestling himself into your hair like he was pleading for your favor.

‘Cum for me’ he groaned. ‘I want to feel it. Please. Ah—cum on my cock, please.’

He started to speed up as if he could force it out of you. Somehow, he was right.

With an exhausted shudder you climaxed for the third time. You screamed for this one, as your mind went blank the moment those orgasmic spasms rippled through your body. It was so much more intense while being fucked. You felt his cock nudging each violent burst of pleasure from inside you, and his self-satisfied whines against your head just added to your gratification.

‘Thank you, thank you—’ With each desperate expression of gratitude Miguel gave another sharp thrust.

Your body was a mess at this point, and all you could do was relax into the binding web and let him have you. He continued to hump vigorously towards his own climax.

He could feel it getting close. He could feel the throbbing of his cock increasing, as every hair on his body stood up. His vision was getting spotty. Some deep animal part of his brain took hold and compelled him with one overpowering desire: he had to cum in you. He had to cum now.

‘Okay, just- gotta, feed it through- gently now—’

Miguel grit his teeth as his cock throbbed. He couldn’t hold back anymore.

‘I’m- going to cum in you now, okay? Just, a-ah- stay still. This will probably feel, strange—’

You squirmed in the bindings as he started to pump harder. He was erratic, rough, utterly drunk on his own primal desires.  

‘Just like that, just- take it gently—’

And then, you felt it. He orgasmed abruptly inside you with a guttural moan, and bit by bit you felt his cock pulsing that thick seed into your pussy.

It was strange, like he’d warned. Load after load, rope after thick rope, filled the limited space of your insides until it was physically leaking down his shaft. He had to pull back and give shorter, desperate little humps to make room while still filling you with the last of his seed. You moaned through it all.

Slowly the throbs got shorter, less violent, until he’d thrust the last spurt into your opening. The two of you collapsed into a whining, panting mess.

‘Ah… finally. Finally.’

As he slipped out you realized that he’d squirted some kind of web secretion alongside his ejaculate, and your inner thighs was now coated in sticky webbing. You whined at the sight, as did he.

He was fixated on the cum oozing from your body and down your thighs. It was ridiculously thick. He was proud of that, but he couldn’t stand to see it wasted.

Using one of his spider legs he gently scooped up what cum he could and pushed it back inside you. He nudged it deeper, as deep as he could, before shifting his abdomen down and sealing you off with another smearing of web. You were too exhausted to even move.

‘Perfect’ he purred. ‘There. That-that should keep you plugged. Thank you, I can’t- say that enough, thank you.’ He pressed one shaky kiss to your forehead alongside his thanks.

In that post-cum daze you tried to gather your thoughts.

Oh god, what had you done? Had you really just done this? Had sex with a massive spider hybrid, unprotected?

Before you could think about it Miguel had begun cutting you down. He released your body from the thick web, but he didn’t let you go free. Instead, he wrapped you into a thin sheen of silk that acted as a blanket, covering you from the cold, before taking you into his human arms and carrying you down to his den.

It was a slightly uneven oval made of webbing, suspended between two giant pine trees with a small hole for entrance. He slid inside with your body tight to his chest.

‘Here, mi tesoro. You rest. You did so good.’

As you turned to look around you were surprised to find that the room was far warmer inside than its eerie exterior implied. He’d hung little firefly lamps on the walls to give it a soft orange glow, and the floor was covered in crude furniture made from wood and leaves. He had tables, desks, all covered in similar half-finished technology that the other Miguel’s office had, but he also had hand-crafted chairs and shelves adorning his home.

He crawled through the cosy little nest and lay you down on a silk-spun mattress in the corner. You sank into it immediately.

‘Ah… t-thank you’ you mumbled. Miguel just chuckled.

‘It’s the least I can do. You’ve done far more for me.’

You were too busy enjoying the luxurious bed to notice Miguel as he sank down beside you. His weight on the mattress did cause your body to bounce a few inches into the air, but the moment he settled you slid down to nestle against his side.

‘What’d you mean? I- barely did anything’ you asked with a yawn.

He pulled you in close and sighed. ‘You fool’ he murmured affectionately, ‘you gave me everything. I’m not stupid. Mating with me can’t be easy.’

‘Mm… I mean, I thought it was, really easy’ you sleepily chuckled. ‘Almost too easy.’

He gave a little exasperated head shake. Really you could have been saying anything right now and it would have endeared him to you. He already liked you, but now his hormones on top of that were compelling him to protect you, to keep you.  

‘Pretty little thing’ he whispered. You didn’t hear.

For an hour or so you drifted in and out of sleep at his side while he kept watch. He guarded your body jealously, like a dragon over treasure, with his dark red eyes solemnly fixed on the door. It was like he was waiting for someone to take you away.

As the sun began to set you finally awoke properly, and realized just how long you’d been absent. You noticed your watch beeping and groaned.

‘Argh… I should probably get back to work, but… I really just want to stay here’ you grumbled. The idea of leaving this place, where you were treated so tenderly as this special little one in a million creature, it was difficult to justify.

To your surprise Miguel bristled when you mentioned leaving, his soft black and red hair standing on end. You felt his claws grip you a little tighter.  

‘Ideally, I’m- supposed to keep you here’ Miguel murmured.

‘What? Why?’

‘Can’t have any competition.’

You felt his hands squeezing your flesh as he pulled you close to his abdomen. It was so warm, so strangely fuzzy and soft.

‘I… I assumed that was what the sealing was for.’

Miguel sniffed, his lip curling to reveal one of his fangs. ‘It is. But someone could remove it.’

You let out a sleepy chuckle. ‘Who?’

His eyes narrowed then, his fangs fully bared. ‘Your boss, for example. My, other variation. If you go back, and he smells you, he could… well, like I said, we are territorial. We don’t like competition. He would attempt to clean you of my genes and probably replace them with his own, if he could entice you.’

You blinked in surprise at this revelation. Wait, was that why HQ Miguel kept looking at you strangely? Did he know? Could he, as Miguel here said, smell it?

‘But… I thought, you were rutting because the- I don’t wanna be mean, but um- the splicing? You, being—’

‘He’s just as half-spider as I am’ Miguel grumbled. ‘He just doesn’t look it. But I guarantee he can smell the same as me, he- feels the same urges.’

‘I- Huh. Huh.’

You rolled onto your back to ponder that fact. Mig had always been honest enough, so you believed him that he at least believed the other Miguel would try to entice you too. Did that mean it was actually dangerous to return? Would anyone else smell Mig on you?

Your mind wondered back to the issue of what exactly you’d done here. Was this a mistake? Should you have let this giant spider monster have sex with you?

Now that you were more lucid, the answer was clear. Yes. A thousand times yes.

‘You know, Mig, the- benefit, to being partly human, is I can say very clearly that I don’t want anyone else.’

You felt him bristle with surprise as you spoke.

‘You… you don’t?’

‘Nope.’

‘But- me?’

‘Yeah. You. I like… big.’

The soft arousal in his eyes was palpable. You liked the way his little abdomen twitched and wriggled, almost like a dog shaking its tail.

‘You… You like, me? You liked… it?’

You let your eyelids droop as you pressed against his lower human half, stroking the curves of his pelvic muscles.

‘I like big. I like- rough. I like you.’

His back spider leg did a little stamp against the webbed floor. He was adorably excited by even that small compliment. He bent down to your height while emitting a low purring noise from his throat.  

‘Well… most, spiders, ideally try to mate multiple times. If the, partner is willing’ he murmured. You could already hear that the brief respite your copulation had brought was slipping away. His voice had dipped, growing husky and smooth, a sure sign of his hormonal heat returning. You gave a sleepy chuckle.

‘What about the seal?’

‘I’ll remove it’ he purred. ‘I’ll remove it, cum in you again and then seal you back up. Over, and over.’

Just the words caused a soft moan to escape your lips. You curled closer. ‘Mm. You’re lucky I enjoyed it then. Can I at least rest up a bit first, though?’

His eyes were affectionate as he watched you curl into a ball against his fluffy abdomen.

‘Of course, arañita.’ Miguel bent to press his lips to your cheek. ‘Rest all you want. But… I will have you again.’

His soft words and warm breath made you shudder. There was an intensity in those words. ‘I will take you again, and again, until it sticks.’

‘Don’t- don’t you mean, just, until the heat finishes?’

A soft smile spread across his face as his eyelids drooped. ‘No. Because it will stick. There’s no doubt about that. I will get you pregnant.’

You gasped as his teeth suddenly hit your neck, his lips trailing down your naked chest. You felt his full weight as he held you beneath him.

‘I just hope it takes a little longer, so I can enjoy you fully. Mi hermosa arañita.’

Link to part four

[pandorasword]

Just saw your post about the members reaction to Chaeri and JK, and I wanna know what they thought about Hongjoong and Chaeri? Hell, I even wanna know what ATEEZ thought about their relationship too!

-♡♡

Hi!! 🫶🏼

I’m so embarrassed by how much time has passed since I got your message—I'm so sorry for the wait! It’s been such a busy and stressful time for me 🥹

Thank you for your question!

Chaeri as the 8th and youngest member of BTS.

BTS

The members quickly learned to consider themselves as a family. Living together and sharing everything since their teenage years, their bond has always been similar to that of siblings. This, for better or worse, includes constantly meddling in each other’s lives, both for fun and to take care of one another. This extends to almost every aspect of their lives, including romantic relationships.

It was impossible – and, in reality, Chaeri didn’t even try – to hide the growing bond between her and Hongjoong from the other members of the group. On the night of the party where they met, Taehyung and Jungkook noticed them, which inevitably led also to the last member of the 'maknae line' finding out about the news. They were the first three to know:

Taehyung was very surprised. Being Chaeri’s best friend and never having heard her talk about Hongjoong before, their union initially seemed a bit strange and rushed to him. Only later, when she confessed to him that at the party, she had approached Hongjoong with the intention of annoying him and Jungkook - who had followed her without her consent - and only later did that situation turn into something more significant, including the desire to normalize relationships among K-pop idols, Taehyung realized that such behavior was typical of Chaeri.

From the moment the relationship between Chaeri and Hongjoong became something more serious than just an excuse to create a scandal in the industry, V showed his support. However, he frequently asked her questions designed to make her reflect on her relationship, asking if it was really what she wanted or if she had just been swept up in a situation that made her feel good but that she didn’t truly desire.

The way Chaeri proudly showed off her relationship to everyone, without fear of judgment, inspired him and made him proud. It even led him to decide to be braver himself, giving the public clear hints about his own relationship, though in a less obvious way.

The first time he met Hongjoong as Chaeri's official boyfriend, one might have expected him to say the classic line, "If you hurt her, you'll have to deal with me." Instead, he said, "If she scares you to death, don't come looking for me. She scares me to death too. But I guess that's her way of showing love”.

Jimin was taken aback. He knew that the situation between Chaeri and Jungkook had reached an even more critical point than before, but he did not expect that the two would actually try to date other people. Their constant fighting, more or less hidden from the eyes of others, was causing stress and sadness for the group, which felt helpless in the face of that dramatic situation. Therefore, he tried to understand and support Chaeri's decision to date Hongjoong as much as possible.

Jimin had always been very reserved about his relationships with the media, aware of how much the K-pop scene could destroy even the most beautiful and genuine connections. Seeing Chaeri, on the other hand, not hide and proudly show the world her sentimental commitment filled him with pride. He knew that she was fighting to normalize the situation for all idols, giving them back their freedom to be human in the eyes of the public.

And while he was initially unsure about Hongjoong, Jimin warmed to him at some point. He liked how Hongjoong carried himself, and with being the leader of his group, he could guess what kind of person he was: responsible, serious, dedicated. Three qualities he believed were essential to be able to romantically connect with someone like his female teammate.

However, what impressed Jimin most was Hongjoong's approach to Chaeri's strong and overwhelming personality and the way he respected her boldness rather than trying to suppress it as many other men would have done.

Although he had never said it out loud, he was grateful to Hongjoong for standing by Chaeri's side at a time when few others could have done so, which was when she ended up on forced hiatus from the BTS.

As the oldest member of BTS, Jin had always seen himself as the “big brother” of the group, ready to offer advice or tease anyone who found themselves in a new relationship. To him, Chaeri was like a little sister, and he wanted to make sure that anyone she dated was worthy of her, which is why he began to “investigate” Hongjoong. He asked around and read articles about him and his group, eager to determine whether he was truly interested in her and not just looking for personal gain.

However, no article or information was more helpful than observing them together and hearing Chaeri talk about him. In the end, this led him to deliver his “verdict”: he approved of the relationship.

True to his style, Jin expressed his approval with a touch of humor. “So, he’s not scared off yet?” he joked with Chaeri, smiling. “Good for him! I barely lasted an hour when we met because of your bratty attitude.”

But beyond his playful nature, he also found moments to talk to her seriously. “I can see he cares about you. So just make sure he keeps caring about you as much as you care about him”

For Jin, Chaeri’s happiness was the most important thing. He was proud to see her openly embracing her happiness, knowing how much she had suffered in the past from having to keep her previous relationship hidden.

Yoongi, when he knew about her relationship with Hongjoong, didn’t comment immediately and took a step back, preferring to observe and let Chaeri share as much—or as little—as she wanted. To him, relationships were personal, and he respected her decision to make her relationship public, understanding how it could be both liberating and daunting in their world. He had always been the type to keep his thoughts on love and relationships close to the chest, so seeing her put herself out there made him feel both proud and slightly worried for her.

One evening, some time after the news broke, noticing how serious their relationship was becoming, he decided to give Chaeri a single piece of advice: “Just make sure you’re doing this for yourself. Don’t get caught up in proving something to anyone. If it makes you happy, that’s what matters.” 

Yoongi just wanted to make sure she hadn’t made the decision because she was angry or disappointed about her past with Jungkook, aware of how such emotions could lead to choices she might regret. He wanted her to approach this relationship with a clear mind and an open heart, unclouded by past wounds.

He knew Chaeri well enough to trust her judgment, and he trusted that Hongjoong would take care of her the way she deserved. But still, he kept a watchful eye, not to interfere but to be there, if she ever needed him. 

While he didn’t express it often, he deeply hoped that this relationship would give her the peace and happiness she deserved.

Ever since they’d started working together, Hoseok’d come to see her as his little sister—a role he took seriously, complete with protective instincts and a healthy dose of skepticism about any guy who showed interest in her. He’d seen her grow, struggle and evolve, so the idea of someone else now playing such a significant role in her life brought out his big-brother side in full force. In the beginning, Hoseok wasn’t entirely sure about Hongjoong. He hadn’t heard much about him before and wasn’t quick to trust anyone who’d suddenly become so close to Chaeri. 

Honestly, he didn’t like the situation at all. Chaeri was vulnerable because of what had happened with Jungkook—a relationship that had ended disastrously not long before—and all the signs, at least on the surface, seemed to point in one direction: Hongjoong was taking advantage of her to gain more fame and visibility for himself and his group. Or, at least, that was what his brain had convinced itself of the moment the “overprotective brother” alarm bells in his head went off as soon as he heard the news.

He would only come to realize, gradually, just how wrong he’d been as all the “evidence” he thought he’d gathered to support his theory started to crumble, one piece at a time. It had been Chaeri who approached Hongjoong first, and she was the one who decided to make the relationship public; moreover, Hongjoong genuinely seemed to care about her.

It took meeting Hongjoong in person to get some answers, though that first meeting felt more like an interrogation. Hongjoong would probably describe it as intense, maybe even intimidating. Despite the polite smile, Hoseok’s questions cut straight to the point: what were his intentions with Chaeri? Did he understand the level of scrutiny that came with dating her? And, in no uncertain terms, was he ready to treat her with the respect she deserved?

Namjoon, as the leader of BTS, felt a natural sense of responsibility for all the group members, but with Chaeri, it was different. Over the years, he had become particularly protective of her, looking out for her in a way that came entirely naturally—like an older brother with a younger sister. Although he wasn’t as openly intense as Hoseok, he, too, felt some skepticism and concern. He wasn’t used to Chaeri dating anyone (outside of Jungkook), and he had the sweet but misguided notion that no one was quite good enough for her.

“You know how much pressure comes with going public. Once things are out there, there’s no taking them back. I just want you to be sure this is what you really want—not just for yourself, but for the two of you together.” Living a life like theirs meant that any information shared with the public would be engraved forever, and he felt it was his duty to remind her that, once that choice was made, there would be no turning back.

He would never dare to question Chaeri's emotional intelligence by suggesting that she was choosing the wrong person to start a romantic relationship with; it was simply his instinct to protect her that compelled him to keep a watchful eye on the two whenever they were together. Deep down, he recognized her ability to make her own decisions, but the protective instincts of an older brother lingered, making it difficult for him to let go completely.

He felt better, however, knowing that Chaeri would have someone by her side while they would all be away due to the mandatory military service that, by now, was getting closer and closer.

Jungkook's reaction to Chaeri's relationship with Hongjoong was complicated, to say the least.

He knew she was a mischievous type, and when he first saw them together at that party, he became convinced—albeit annoyed—that she had set up that little act just to get back at him and Taehyung for following her to the party, despite her not wanting them there. But discovering that their connection had instead grown so serious that she had decided to make it public threw him completely off balance.

Jungkook couldn’t help but think back on all the wrong choices he had made during his relationship with Chaeri, choices that, forced or not, had led him to that moment: having to watch the love of his life fall for someone else.

The truth is that he’s never fully accepted it—and he never will. He won’t ever choose to be in the same room as Hongjoong unless circumstances force him to be there, and he certainly won’t ever choose to have even the smallest interaction with him. To Jungkook, Hongjoong would always be a reminder of everything he had lost, a constant presence of the love he let slip away. Even if he knew, deep down, that he couldn’t turn back time, a part of him stubbornly refused to accept the reality of Chaeri’s new relationship. It wasn’t that he wished her unhappiness, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept Hongjoong as a part of her life—or, by extension, his own.

Jungkook’s feeling of bitterness only grew stronger as the weeks went by. He saw Chaeri almost daily, whether at rehearsals or during group events, and every time he saw her smile because of him, it was like a quiet punch to the gut.

It didn’t help that the others had slowly begun to accept Hongjoong. While Hoseok still kept an eye on him and Namjoon was ever-cautious, they’d grown used to the idea. And to Jungkook, it felt like they were all moving forward without him. He’d find himself spacing out during conversations, lost in memories of the past, back when he and Chaeri were inseparable. It was all so bittersweet—he wanted to support her, he truly did, but he was haunted by the constant, nagging feeling that he was supposed to be the one by her side, not some stranger.

Whenever he saw Hongjoong, though, he managed a polite nod, maintaining a veneer of professionalism. But his politeness was brittle. Every interaction with him felt like stepping on thin ice, a forced act that concealed the simmering resentment he couldn’t quite shake. It was painful, and he felt as if he were trapped in a story where he’d once been a main character, only to be slowly written out. 

Everyone claimed that true love meant letting someone find happiness with another person. He was convinced he genuinely loved her.  So why was it so hard for him to accept it?

ATEEZ

Before Hongjoong decided to talk to their managers about dating Chaeri, he knew he had to discuss it with his members first. This made him particularly nervous, but he knew he couldn't delay it any longer, mainly since Chaeri had expressed her desire to make their relationship public. For example, when he went to New York to see her, Chaeri and Hongjoong posted photos from an identical location, causing the internet to be filled with theories and suspicions about whether they were dating, trolling the fans, or soft-launching a relationship.

He wasn't nervous because the boys didn't know, quite the contrary. Since the night of the '98 liners idol party, a gathering of idols born in 1998, when he and Seonghwa had returned from, and the latter had not waited more than a second to tell the others about him and Chaeri, the younger ones had not stopped teasing him, also knowing the little crush he had on her ever since she found some time to go up to them in 2019 at MAMAs and tell them how much she had enjoyed the cover of the song they had brought to the stage.

Fortunately, his fears were unfounded. The boys didn't react negatively to the dating news when he shared it, and their managers reassured them that they could handle any potential scandal. 'Having Chaeri linked to one of you would surely increase attention and, consequently, your turnover' they emphasized. Fortunately, KQ loved the media exposure this would bring.

And, what to say? The boys couldn't be anything but happy about that, could they? Their leader seemed pleased with that relationship, and their reputation would greatly benefit from Chaeri’s impact. However, Ateez would soon learn that Chaeri in their lives would become more than simply 'Hongjoong's girl who benefits his mood and our career.' 

Each member reacted differently based on their personalities and relationships with Hongjoong and Chaeri. 

Seonghwa and Hongjoong had always shared everything since they were just trainees. Being the same age and both feeling some sort of responsibility to the members had bound them together more than with the others. Because of this, Seonghwa couldn't have been unaware of the 'little' crush his best friend had toward the only female member of BTS. A crush that grew exponentially over the years, peaking in 2019.

Seonghwa teased him about it since pre-debut and never stopped, even when the two became a couple, leaving him hugely surprised. It’s a tale as old as time to have a crush on a public figure, and usually, people never end up dating them unless they get a once-in-a-lifetime chance, and for Hongjoong to get that chance? Seonghwa could think of nothing else but the fact that life always shows you something you would never expect.

Despite initial disbelief, he was proud of his member for being the first to have a public relationship, as he showed a nerve many idols did not have.

The guy also likes to tease Chaeri about how soft she can get with Hongjoong since she always tries to pass herself off as someone who is not particularly sweet or romantic. That makes her and Joong very similar, in his opinion.

Yunho was thrilled. His reaction was, perhaps, the purest and most genuinely enthusiastic of all. 

From the moment Hongjoong had confirmed his connection with Chaeri, he couldn’t hide his smile and a bit of surprise at the thought that their leader, his hyung, had won the heart of Chaeri and felt a bit bewildered at the thought that she was now a constant presence in their lives.

His excitement about the news, however, wasn’t simply about Chaeri’s fame. His happiness came from a much more genuine place. He knew how much Hongjoong’s intense work schedule demanded of him, and knowing he’d found someone who could make him smile and offer a bit of comfort was something that gave Yunho happiness.

As the main dancer of ATEEZ, Yunho felt an irresistible and inexplicable urge to talk for hours with Chaeri, who held the same role in BTS, about the dance icons they admired, favorite styles, the best methods for learning choreography, and so on. 

When it came to dance, Yunho found a new source of motivation and inspiration in Chaeri. Having the opportunity to work with her as ATEEZ’s choreographer, even if only for a limited time, made him genuinely happy; he greatly appreciated how Chaeri took each of his suggestions into account, making him feel fully included in the creative process of their performances.

While most of the others reacted loudly, swept away by enthusiasm or curiosity, Yeosang received the news of their relationship calmly and silently, as he had not yet formed an opinion about the situation; speaking without having thought it through first was not his style. Not that he was indifferent; on the contrary, the idea that Hongjoong had started a relationship with someone so significant in the music scene, fascinated him more than he let on. Yet, as was typical of him, he preferred to think deeply before saying anything.

In fact, Yeosang felt happy for Hongjoong. He knew well how much their leader had sacrificed for the sake of ATEEZ and how he had always acted as an emotional shield for the others. The thought that someone could finally take care of him, just as he did for his members, gave him a sense of peace. If Chaeri could provide that kind of balance for Hongjoong, that was already enough for Yeosang.

However, despite his reserved demeanor, Yeosang couldn't shake the thought that this relationship might somehow influence the dynamics of the group. It wasn’t jealousy or envy, but rather a healthy concern for their equilibrium. At a time when ATEEZ was growing and reaching new milestones, he feared that the notoriety of such a public relationship could distract Hongjoong or even create tensions with Chaeri's international fame.

For this reason, he spoke privately with Hongjoong to tell him that he would support whatever made him happy, but that he needed to make sure that he found the right equilibrium, for himself, for ATEEZ, and for BTS.

The ice between him and Chaeri finally broke when, noticing his somewhat distant and thoughtful demeanor, she decided to "test him" with jokes and playful remarks, trying to make him laugh and lift his spirits whenever she was around.

When San was told the news, he decided to become one of the most welcoming people Chaeri would ever meet. If Hongjoong put so much trust in her that he made their relationship public and made her an official part of their routine, it meant that he could trust her, too, and that she was certainly a special person, an idea that was later solidified as he began to get to know her more.

For him, it was new to see his captain, always so focused and dedicated to work, let loose whenever Chaeri was around. He was the first to realize that Joong didn’t just have a simple crush or attraction toward her—he was completely smitten. This realization filled San with joy, both because he could see how happy his hyung was and because teasing him about it was going to be even more fun. And oh, he never missed an opportunity to do so, knowing he’d succeeded with his jokes whenever Hongjoong threatened to beat him up.

San was among those who didn’t worry at all about the potential repercussions this might have on their group. He had complete faith in Hongjoong and their agency, and if they believed the situation could only benefit them, then he firmly believed it too.

From the start, San took it upon himself to make their dorm a bit more “girl-friendly” in subtle ways, often reminding the other guys not to leave laundry outside their rooms and occasionally bringing an air freshener or candles with softer fragrances.

Chaeri, along with Hongjoong, had started taking care of all of them through small gestures: giving them decorative items for the dorm, bringing food almost every time they met, and listening to them in moments of difficulty. For San, it was only right to make her feel like a true member of their family.

Mingi was less worried about the implications of dating someone as high-profile as Chaeri and more curious about what she was like behind the scenes. He'd seen her charisma on stage, of course, but knowing she had somehow captured the heart of their hyper-focused captain made her all the more interesting.

When she started hanging out with them more, Mingi was pleasantly surprised by how easy it was to talk to her. He found himself chatting about everything. She laughed at his quirky jokes, and her genuine reactions made him feel instantly comfortable. Chaeri was even surprisingly willing to listen to his ramblings, which most people couldn’t keep up with for long.

What Mingi appreciated most was that she seemed to care about all of them, not just Hongjoong. It didn’t take long for him to open up to her the way he would to a friend, even showing her some of his scribbled lyrics and ideas—something he rarely did with people outside the group. She encouraged him to pursue his creative ideas with enthusiasm, which meant a lot to him, especially coming from someone with so much experience.

Mingi noticed little things about her and Hongjoong’s dynamic that the others might miss. Like the way Chaeri would glance at Hongjoong to see if he needed anything or how Hongjoong’s shoulders relaxed just a bit more when she was around. While he didn’t tease his leader as much as San or Wooyoung did in front of Chaeri, he made sure to join in whenever she wasn’t around.

Wooyoung was the most excited. It was almost too good to be true— despite his hectic schedule, his beloved captain had found love. And not just anyone, but Chaeri of BTS. And oh, if he wasn't a BTS fan.

His fanboy heart was thrilled, enough to make him almost obnoxious with his numerous questions towards his Hyung that went from 'Do you think she will introduce me to Jimin sunbaenim?' to 'If, technically, BTS are like siblings and we, technically, are like siblings, does that mean that if you and her are together, she is my sister-in-law and us and them will become one family?' It is unsurprising that, to most of these questions, Hongjoong simply answered with a somewhat annoyed 'I don't know.'

The vague and rather bored response to Wooyoung’s questions made the members wrinkle their noses, perhaps too eager to pry into their hyung's relationship and then into the dynamics of such a famous group as BTS. After all, he was dating an idol in one of the most prominent groups ever. He felt their captain needed to give them a few details to satisfy their innocent curiosity.

Wooyoung was the first to break the ice with her and treat her like one of the family rather than an unexpected addition to their already large group. It took only a few days before he started referring to her as 'Noona,' and he is known to blush, in an innocent and non-romantic way, at most of the things she says to him.

Jongho is a private person who, unlike many other group members, highly values his privacy and, therefore, deeply respects others' boundaries. So, he didn't seem particularly interested in the news of his hyung's relationship. After all, it was normal for them to have partners, right? The only difference was that the girl was one of the country's most famous and influential figures. At first, Jongho thought that it might have been better for the group's well-being and harmony if Hongjoong had found love in someone who wasn't always in the spotlight, but in the end, he was indifferent to their relationship as it was their business.

For this reason, at first, he couldn’t understand the cheerful atmosphere with which almost everyone else had welcomed the news. It wasn’t the first time one of them had started dating someone (obviously keeping everything strategically out of the spotlight), and to him, the fact that Hongjoong was with a famous person rather than an ordinary one didn’t make any difference. That’s why he didn’t seem particularly enthusiastic.

However, as time passed and as Chaeri became more and more embedded in their group dynamic, Jongho could not help but get to know her better. He noticed that despite her fame, she approached everyone with humility, a quality that many celebrities in their circles display only when they are in the spotlight. Although he was less experienced than her, who had debuted five years earlier, it happened more than once that Chaeri asked him for advice on how to keep her voice so steady during performances, which amazed him and filled him with pride.

His respect for her began to change drastically for the better when, after a movie night organized by the group, she stayed behind to help tidy up, despite the fact that it was late and she had a busy schedule the next day. When Jongho told her she did not need to, she replied that it was nice to contribute, since she now considered them a second family.

I wanted to thank @littlestatesman for helping me a few months ago by giving me more information about Ateez than I had, and especially my Boo, @alixnsuperstxr who helped me with the entire drafting of everything written. Thank you so much for your friendship and support ❤️

taglist: @alixnsuperstxr | @bts-dream | @enchantingbrowneyedgirl | @ycuvi | @cosmicwintr

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 14- Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

Summary: You and Javi celebrate your first Christmas together in Laredo

Word Count: 11.3K (could be worse?)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), oral (f receiving), face sitting (awh hell yes), creampie, praise kink, breeding kink, mentions of food/eating, mentions of grief/death (but it's sweet), children being assholes (I'm a teacher, I'm allowed to say it), our favorite idiots Carter and Miller making a brief appearance (I missed them), Javi being so sweet with kids (this does deserve a warning, I'm sorry) Javi being so kind, patient, thoughtful, amazing UGH he is too good for this earth 🥹😩

A/N: Thank you for your patience as I finally get this chapter done! Life has been absolutely crazy these past two weeks, so I'm hoping now that things have settled down, I can get back to working on chapters at a more regular schedule 🥴 If you're a Christmas girlie (gender neutral) like me, this chapter is for you, because even though it's only October, I really can't help myself (and like these two idiots celebrating Christmas together for the first time?! C'mon 🥺)

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“So you’re leaving early today to do arts and crafts? That’s a new one.” Agent Miller snickered, leaning over his desk to slap his partner, Agent Carter, in amusement as they watched their boss begin to organize his desk and pack up his briefcase, already rolling his eyes in annoyance at the grief he was about to get from his co-workers for his early departure. 

“I’m not the one doing the arts and crafts. I’m just going into her class to help, you idiot.” Javi sighed, glaring at Miller as he finished sorting the rest of his paperwork piles. 

Last week, you had asked Javi if he would be able to come into your classroom one afternoon when he wasn't busy, to help with the project you were planning for your students to give to their parents as a Christmas gift before they left for winter break. You had quickly realized that for the sake of your sanity,  what you had planned was nowhere near a one man job, and because it was a surprise gift for their families, you didn’t want to ask any parents to come into help. Javi had happily accepted, even with your adamant warnings of the case of Christmas Crazies your class had with only days left before winter break. 

“…. To help do arts and crafts. Just callin’ a spade a spade here, Peña. Does that mean we’re gonna start having craft time here, too?” Miller and Carter chuckled to themselves, smirking at Javi, now slinging his briefcase over his shoulder, making his way out of his office. 

“Listen, Miller. Give Peña all the shit you want, but I would way rather be cutting and gluing shit and throwing fist fulls of glitter in the air than working on these fucking reports.” Carter huffed, waving the file folder Miller was supposed to be working on in his face before throwing it back down on his desk. 

“Fair enough.” 

“I wouldn’t trust you dumbasses with scissors and glue if my life depended on it.” Javi groaned, raising an eyebrow at the pair before picking up one of the finished reports off of Carter’s desk, using it to point at the two on his way out. “These better be done by the time I get back tomorrow.” 

“But I’m gonna need extra time to decorate them for you, Peña!” Miller grinned, he and Carter playfully swatting at each other in hysterics, Javi flipping them off as he headed out the door. 

After his mom passed, Javi would have never thought Alma Pierce Elementary School would be a place that would hold any more relevance to him, let alone be a place that he would frequent, now that his future wife worked there. He couldn’t help but smile as he pulled into the parking lot, thinking about the joy it would have brought Lucia to see that her years of having Javi help her with her own classroom were still going to good use with you. He also couldn’t help but smile to himself as he grabbed the coffee sitting in his cup holder he had picked up for you on the way over from the station, also knowing his mom would have had some choice words to say to him if he showed up empty handed to your classroom.  

After checking in with the office, he made the now familiar route down to your classroom, weaving through the tiny bodies patterning down the hallway, screeching and squealing with what had to be uncontrollable Christmas excitement. He gently tapped at your door before opening it, a grin growing across your face as you looked up from your desk as you saw your fiancé with an extra large cup of coffee in his hands at the doorway. 

“Oh my god, you brought me coffee? I owe you my life, you are the best. Thank you.” The sigh you let out felt like the weight of the world lifted off your shoulders as you shot up to run over to Javi, giving him a big hug before snatching the cup out of his hands and taking a long swig of the caffeine you knew you were going to need to get you through the afternoon. 

“I figured you could probably use it.” Javi chuckled, pressing a kiss into the top of your head before looking around, noticing that you were the only one in your room. “Where are the kids?” 

“They’re at lunch, I was just about to leave to go pick them up. They’ve been absolute psychopaths today. I know it’s wrong to say I wanna drop kick a child out a window, but I’m real close.” You grumbled, taking another long sip of your coffee. “I don’t think I would have made it out alive today if you didn’t come in to help, so I apologize in advance for their behavior. I may or may not have told them that because you work for the police you keep track of what kids are well behaved or not to try and scare them a little.” You grimaced, knowing that the comment you had made earlier to your kids when you told them Javi was coming into help wasn’t the most ethical, but you were desperate for anything that would even remotely help control the chaos in your classroom with only 2 days left before winter break. 

“Any kids in particular I need to be on the lookout for?” Javi asked, laughing to himself as you leaned over to set your coffee on your desk before heading towards the door to go pick up your class from the cafeteria. 

“Oh… you’ll know them when you see them.” 

You closed the door behind you, giving Javi a quick wink, leaving him alone in your classroom to wait for the arrival of the promised circus show that was your students. He wandered over to your desk, peeking through the piles of papers, sticky notes of to-do’s and drawings your students had given you. On the wall by your calendars, there was a photo of you and your family, 2 of you and Javi, and a note that he had written you one day and stuck in your lunch box, scribbled down in his rushed handwriting 

Te amo mucho, hermosa. Have a great day.  

-J 

He thumbed gently at the wrinkled note, smiling to himself, still in awe of how the pieces of him seemed to follow you in everywhere you went. The sweet moment was quickly interrupted by the sounds of little voices bursting through the doorway, chattering away as they rushed to go sit on the carpet at the front of the room. 

“Who’s that guy?!” A boy’s voice asked, pointing in Javi’s direction before balling up his body and doing a literal somersault across the carpet. 

“It’s Mr. Peña! Do you not remember when our teacher told us before lunch that he was coming, dummy?” A girl’s voice responded, rolling her eyes at the boy, now laying face down on the floor. As more and more kids came over to the carpet, the more and more voices began to chime in. 

“Don’t call him a dummy, Angela, that’s mean!”

“Well he is!” 

“Why does that guy have a mustache?” 

“My uncle has a mustache!” 

“When are we going home?” 

“Miguel tried to kick me in the nuts at recess!” 

“I did not!” 

You buried your hands in your face, letting out a deep sigh, shaking your head before looking back at Javi, quietly mouthing “I’m so sorry.” across the room before making your way to the front of the class. 

“If you can hear me, clap once.” 

3 or 4 half hearted claps followed over the chatter. 

“If you can hear me, clap twice.” 

More students began to join in, curious to see that Javi was now also following your directions. 

“If you can hear me, put your hands on your head and turn off your voice.” 

Finally, the volume of your room began to ease, all of your students, and Javi, quietly looking at you with their hands resting on top of their heads. 

“Okay, 3rd graders. Right now, we are going to work on our holiday presents for our grownups we’ve been talking about all week. Remember how I told you this morning that we have someone special coming in to help today?” The class nodded, eyes glued on Javi. “This is Mr. Peña. Can you guys say hi?” 

“Hi, Mr. Peña!” The class waved at him, Javi now smiling and waving back at them. 

“Mr. Peña is taking time out of his day to come help us with our project, so we need to show him what a respectful, responsible and safe class we are, okay? If we can follow directions and everyone gets their project done, then we will have time for extra recess at the end of the day.” Javi snickered at the silent grins and high-fives on the carpet in hopes of bonus time outside. “Once you glue your picture on your plate to make your snowglobe, you can come see me to put the snowflakes inside, and then take it over to Mr. Peña and he’s going to hot glue it for you.” 

A tiny hand quickly shot up, waving it back and forth. “No, Miguel. You cannot use the hot glue gun. It’s a grownup's only job.” You tried your best not to roll your eyes as Miguel frowned and put his hand back in his lap, knowing damn well he would be one to try and hot glue his hands together. “Do we have any questions before we start?” Almost all of your class’s hands shot up immediately, all beaming at Javi, frantically wiggling their arms in the air. You laughed to yourself, knowing that none of them had any questions about the project, and just wanted to talk to Javi. “Are these all just questions for Mr. Peña?” The class nodded, now squirming in their spots. “Okay, we can do 3 questions right now, and maybe if we have time at the end we can ask him some more questions. Is that okay, Mr. Peña?” 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure.” Javi smiled, trying his best to keep from smirking at you and your teacher voice that seemed to be having a much stronger effect on him than he had intended.  

“Okay, Mr. Peña is going to pick 3 people who are sitting on their bottom and are waiting quietly and patiently for a turn.” You couldn’t help but smirk back at him as he stepped next to you on the front of the carpet, nervously running his thumb over his knuckles to prepare for his interrogation from 8 and 9 year olds. He pointed over to a girl at the back of the group, nodding to her to ask whatever was on her mind. 

“So you’re marrying our teacher? Do you love her? Have you ever kissed her before?” The entire class erupted with giggles as Javi’s face went red with embarrassment. 

“Uh,  yeah. I love her a lot and that’s why we’re getting married.” Javi leaned over to whisper in your ear as the kids continued to snicker. “Am I allowed to answer the last part?” 

“We’re not gonna talk about kissing at school, okay, Maya?” You laughed, giving Javi a little nudge as he pointed to the next student, picking a boy this time, in hopes that he wouldn’t have intense questions about his love life. 

“Our teacher said that you work at the police station. Have you ever arrested anyone? Do you catch bad guys?” One of the boys asked, the rest of the class leaning in with intrigue. Javi rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, trying to maneuver another hard hitting question. 

“Well I uh, I help train the guys who catch the bad guys, I don’t actually go out and catch them.” 

“SO YOU DON’T THROW PEOPLE IN JAIL?!” Miguel shouted out, barely letting Javi answer his question. 

“I’m gonna throw you in jail, Miguel…” you muttered under your breath, hiding your face behind Javi’s shoulder, the both of you trying to contain your laughter. 

“No, I don’t. Uh okay, last one.” He pointed to another girl who had been patiently waiting with her hand raised the entire time Javi had been sharing. 

“One time, my grandpa punched my dad in the face, and they kept punching and punching and so then my mom called the police, and then he had to go to jail and my Grandpa kept yelling you motherfu-.” 

“OKAY, on that note we’re gonna start with our projects, everything is already on your desks. Come see me for snowflakes and Mr. Peña for gluing both pieces together.” Your eyes widened in horror, jumping in to try and cut her off before she could finish the rest of her thought. It had thankfully seemed like the rest of the class had been oblivious, racing back to their desks to work on their projects. You pinched the bridge of your nose before rubbing your fingers against your temples, trying not to wither away from the embarrassment your class had decided to subject you to with their questions for Javi. 

“... I am so sorry.” You sighed, shaking your head as you looked over at Javi, trying his best to keep from laughing at the antics your class was already up to before they had even started working on their project. 

“Is this what it’s like every day?” Javi’s eyes widened as he looked out at the classroom, already overwhelmed by the noise and bodies moving everywhere. 

“It’s normally not this bad, I swear I’m a good teacher. With it being 2 days before break, as long as everyone makes it home alive, I’m calling it a win. Thank you again for coming to help, Jav. You okay to man the hot glue station?” 

“Of course, Osita.” He smiled, giving your hand a little squeeze. 

“Miguel will legitimately try to glue his hands together, so just be… extra careful when he comes around.”  

You couldn’t have been more thankful that Javi had agreed to help you with your project, because passing out confetti snowflakes alone was enough to make you lose your mind, let alone try and glue things together, too. Through the chaos, you and Javi found yourself exchanging quick glances, quietly laughing to yourself at the craziness. You couldn’t help but stare a little longer as you watched Javi your students, patiently helping each of them, listening to them share about who they were planning on giving their handmade gift to, complementing them on their work,  and carefully monitoring to make sure no one (especially Miguel) got too close to the hot glue gun. You’d be lying if  you said it ever got old watching how goddamn sweet he was with any kid he talked to, making your heartbeat a little faster at the thought of how much sweeter he’d be when it was one of your own. 

By some miracle, everyone had finished with their gift before it was time for gym, glady sending them on their way to go burn off some excessive energy to help you through the last few hours of the day. Javi’s mom had clearly trained him well, coming back to find him helping to clean up the leftover mess from your crafts after dropping your class off. 

“You don’t have to help clean up, Jav. You’ve already done more than enough.” You sighed, sitting yourself on top of the desk Javi was next to, reaching out to grab his hand. 

“Osita. If this is what you do every fucking day all day long, the least I can help you do is clean up. Jesus Christ, this was fucking exhausting.” 

“Well, I really threw you into the worst of it, so I apologize. Thank you again for helping. The kids really liked you. They kept asking the whole way to gym when you were going to come back. I told them when they stopped acting like a pack of wild monkeys, maybe you’ll consider.” You and Javi laughed, Javi gently resting his hand on your knee, thumb circling against your jeans. 

“I’ll come back any time, Hermosa. Getting to watch my hot, future wife kick ass at her job is way better than having to harp on Carter and Miller to run the reports I ask them to every goddamn day. I’m more than happy to stay if you need more help, but I figured since I took the rest of the afternoon off, and I have a genuine appreciation for a fraction of how fucking hard your job is, I would go home and make whatever you want for dinner and finish up shit around the apartment so we can spend tonight doing whatever you want.” You smiled up at Javi, reaching your hand under his chin, pulling it closer to you to plant a quick kiss on his lips. 

“Someone’s really trying to make sure they make their place on the Nice List before Christmas.” You smirked, raising an eyebrow at Javi, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“You deserve it all, Osita. It’s seriously the least I can do. Although, the things I wanna do to you later are definitely gonna end me up on the Naughty List.” He gripped his hand around the meat of your thigh, giving it a long squeeze as he placed a tender kiss on your lips, trying to use every ounce of self control to remember he was still at your work, let alone an elementary school where an 8 year old could come busting through the door at any moment. 

“You’re such a fucking dork. You’re lucky I love you so much.” You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at him. “Thank you, Jav. You really are the best. Can we do breakfast for dinner?” 

“I had a feeling that was what you were gonna ask for.” 

“Breakfast is the superior food at all hours of the day, and no one can convince me otherwise.” 

“Pancakes or waffles?” 

“Surprise me.” 

You pecked a quick kiss onto Javi’s cheek before sliding off the desk, wrapping your arms around him, giving him a hug, pressing your face into the fabric of his dress shirt, savoring the familiarity of his sweet and spicy cologne that had become the scent that smelled like home. “Alright, as much as I don’t want you to leave, I probably should be a good teacher and print the rest of the things I need and salvage a survival plan for the next two days before the gremlins get back.” 

“I’ll see you at home, Hermosa. Love you” 

“Love you too.” 

With one last squeeze, and a wave as he headed out the door, Javi left you in your empty classroom, looking out at the disaster left in your student’s wake. Christmas couldn’t come fast enough. 

Anything that you had planned for the afternoon had quickly gone out the window after your class had returned from gym, your plans for an extra long recess turning into an even longer recess, and part of a movie before sending the kids on their way home. Some way or another, you were able to drag yourself home, the promise of breakfast food keeping you afloat the entirety of your drive home. 

As you walked down the hallway of your apartment, you could hear the quick pops and sizzles of the bacon Javi was cooking over the muffled Christmas music in the background. Turning your key in the lock on the doorknob, you pushed the door open, immediately dropping your school bag and kicking off your shoes, practically falling to the floor from exhaustion. Before you could even turn around to greet Javi, you felt his arms reaching under your legs and around your shoulders, making you squeal as he scooped you up, carrying you across the entry way towards the living room. 

“Hi?” You laughed, looking up at Javi in confusion as to why you had barely made it 2 feet into your apartment before he was picking you up and carrying you away. 

“Hi.” He smiled down at you, giving you a little shake in his grip. 

“Can I ask why you’re carrying me? Am I not allowed to walk anymore?” You guestrued down at the ground, watching your legs dangle with each step Javi took. 

“Because you work harder than anyone I know, and after today, if I’m fucking tired, you must be fucking exhausted, and my amazing, beautiful future wife deserves to relax.”

 He paused, tilting his head down to give you a kiss before turning his body the opposite direction. You had been so focused on Javi as he carried you from the doorway, you hadn’t even realized what was set up in the living room until he had shifted his position, facing you towards it. You looked over to see a blanket fort built between the ends of the couch, TV paused and ready to watch “It’s A Wonderful Life”, and the Christmas tree the two of you had decorated together lit up and twinkling, casting warm shadows on the walls. “Pajamas are in there, so change, lay down and I’m bringing you breakfast while we watch the movie.” 

You could feel the tears welling in your eyes as you looked out at the living room and back up at Javi. “Javi, you didn’t have to-” 

“I know, I didn’t have to do anything. I wanted to. I know how much you love Christmas and how we haven’t done much to celebrate since you’ve been busy with work, so I wanted to do something for you.” A grin grew across Javi’s face, watching your jaw hang open in shock as he set you down, letting you go over to examine his blanket creation. You stood there, shaking your head in disbelief, wondering to yourself how the hell you had gotten so lucky that someone cared enough about you to make you dinner after a long day, let alone plan something special for you, even if it was just in your living room. Before you could even respond, Javi was heading back to the kitchen to turn off the beeping timer of the oven, gesturing over to the fort. “I’ll be in there in a second.” 

“Javi, you set this all up for me, at least let me help with dinner or-” 

“Osita. Go put on pajamas and lay down. I swear to God, you’re the only person I’ve ever met that needs more convincing to go sit and relax than get up and do things.” He laughed, pointing at the covered couch, demanding you to get in. You held your hands up in defense before kneeling down to peek under the blankets Javi had draped over the top to see your comforter, all the pillows and blankets you owned, and your favorite sweatshirt and sweatpants of Javi’s folded neatly on top of everything. You quickly stood back up, unzipping and shuffling out of your jeans, trading them out for the sweatpants before stripping yourself of your shirt and bra, peeking around the corner to see Javi biting down on his bottom lip, eyes glued to you as you slipped his sweatshirt over your head. 

“I should have known better than to think you would have put out clothes for me to change into for any other reason than your own selfish gain, Javier Peña.” You jabbed, Javi shrugging as he grabbed two plates of the breakfast that he had finished cooking, bringing them back over to you. 

“Me? Wanting to watch you change on purpose, knowing damn well you were gonna take your bra off before you put my sweatshirt on? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Osita.” He smirked, a devilish grin growing across his face as he ducked into the fort, giving you a quick wink. 

“You? Wanting to see my boobs? Yeah, you’re right, how silly of me.” You groaned, voice oozing with sarcasm as you followed him, snuggling yourself under a blanket as Javi handed a plate over to you. “In all seriousness, this is really sweet of you, Javi. Thank you. Didn’t picture you as a big blanket fort kind of guy.” You giggled, giving him a little nudge. 

“I would make them all the time when I was little. Especially with my mom. I’d play with Hot Wheels in there, or my mom would read with me- I don’t know, maybe it’s from being with you at school today, and thinking about her, but I got home and thought you’d like it. You seem like someone who made their fair share of blanket forts as a kid.” Javi’s face beamed with a soft smile, the dimples of his cheeks creasing as he grinned over at you. 

“That’s really sweet. She sounds like she was the best mom. That’s a lot sweeter than my memories of building forts. My brothers and I had a pretty much permanent one set up in the basement made from old hockey sticks, but it was referred to in our house as Pound Town. We would go in and beat the shit out of each other with pillows until it collapsed on us and we’d have to pause, try to build it again, and beat the shit out of each other with pillows as we argued about if we were building it right or not. My parents let it slide because we weren’t annoying them, until one day when Patrick and I got in a huge fight about which couch cushions to use and he took one of the hockey sticks and hit me in the face and gave me a black eye. Pound Town was no more after that.” You grimaced, taking a bite of one of the  chocolate chip pancakes Javi had put on your plate. 

“I’m pretty sure at this point, you could tell me that you and your brothers robbed a bank and I wouldn’t be surprised.” 

“We were always well behaved during December, though. My parents definitely played into the threat of being on the naughty list as soon as Thanksgiving was over. At least they got a few weeks of peace each year. I honestly think that my parents were just as excited for Christmas movies as we were, because it at least gave them an hour and a half of semi-silence.” You laughed, nodding your head towards the TV. 

“I’m gonna be honest, Osita. I don’t blame them.” You sighed, leaning your head against Javi’s chest, feeling it rise and fall with each small huff of laughter. “We don’t have to watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” either, I just know you said you liked it and we didn’t get to watch it yet.” 

“No, this is a perfect pick. It’s one of my favorites. You wanna start it?” Reaching over for the remote, you smiled at Javi as he nodded, pressing play as the title credits began rolling across the screen. Javi had quickly come to learn that if you liked a movie, not only were you willing to watch it a million times, you knew just about every line, like you were putting on a one man production of whatever it was you were watching. Although you always quoted everything to yourself under your breath, something about it made Javi’s heart melt, spending more time looking over at you, whispering the lines of the movie to yourself, rather than watching whatever was on the screen. In between bites of breakfast, Javi watched your cheeks turn rosy as you watched a little George and Mary on the screen, eating ice cream at the drugstore, Mary leaning down to whisper in George’s ear. Javi had only seen the movie a handful of times, knowing it nowhere near as well as you, but well enough to know the line you mouthed to yourself wasn’t quite right. 

“Javier Peña, I’ll love you ‘till the day I die.” 

The two of you munched away at the rest of your breakfast dinner, Javi taking both of your empty plates back to the kitchen before nestling back under the blankets, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you laid your head against his chest. Now watching George and Mary throw stones through the windows of the old, abandoned house, making wishes of what they hoped their lives to be, you snuggled closer to Javi, draping your arm over his waist, twisting the ends of his t-shirt between your fingers. 

“I can’t believe they’re actually gonna start building the house in a few weeks.” You looked up at Javi, beaming with excitement. After Javi’s proposal, both to be his wife and to build the two of you your dream home, you both had been working to draft up and finalize plans for construction to physically start happening. All of the design process had been smooth sailing so far, you and Javi easily agreeing on things you wanted for the house- layouts, designs, sizing- the only thing that was stopping you from moving forward with progress was deciding how many bedrooms the house was going to have. 

“Not too late to tell Danny we need to add another bedroom.” Javi teased, gently squeezing your arm. 

“I think 5 bedrooms is plenty, Mr. Ambitious. If we have more than 4 kids, we might as well add enough rooms to house a baseball team.” 

“I’ll give you a football team’s worth of kids, if you want it.” 

“I know you would, but you’re not the one who has to push a football team’s worth of kids out of you.” You laughed, playfully swatting at Javi before he wrapped his arm around the small of your back, flipping you so that your chest was caged with his, bodies laying pressed against each other. 

“I’m happy with 1 kid or 10. Whatever you want, Osita, I’ll give it to you.” Javi smiled softly, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face before cupping your jaw in his palm, thumb delicately circling across your skin. 

“What if I want you?” You whispered, stretching your head up to nibble at his chin, planting kisses along his face and neck, each one more desperate and hungry than the last. 

“You have me, Hermosa. Forever.” He reached down, grabbing your left hand, carefully twisting the gold and diamond band around your finger in his. It wasn’t long before his hand had left yours, beginning to roam down your shoulders and back before slipping under the waistband of your sweatpants, grabbing handfuls of your ass as you pressed the weight of your hips further into his, feeling his bulge starting to grow underneath you. Working his hands back up around your hips, he pushed your sweatpants and underwear down your legs, slightly raising your lower half to help Javi strip them off your body, leaving your lower half exposed. Javi’s grip tightened around your thighs, suddenly locking his arms around them, scooting you closer to him, now sitting on his chest. 

“Javi, what are you-” You protested, taking a second to realize what Javi was prompting you to do. 

“Wanna take care of you, sweet girl.” He rasped, continuing to pull you closer towards him, now sitting on him near his collarbone, as he cut you off. 

“Are you sure, Jav?” You asked, biting down on your lip, looking down at Javi, lust pooling in the dark brown of his gaze, a devilish smirk stretching across his lips. “I’m always worried I’m gonna suffocate you when we do this.”

“I’m still alive, aren’t I? Baby, if I die between your thighs from you sitting on my face, I’ll die a fucking happy man. Please?” 

“Okay, okay.” You nodded, letting out a little, breathy laugh as Javi tugged you one last time, your already dripping heat hovering over his face. You began to slowly lower yourself down, Javi’s fingertips gripping the flesh of your hips, forcing you to shift your weight onto him, making you moan as you felt his strong nose brush against your clit. You could feel the width of his tongue dragging along your cunt, slowly and deliberately working himself along your sensitive bundle of nerves. His face nestled between your legs, he took his time with each lick, taking extra time to press harder on the spots he knew made you weak, loving how wrecked he could tell you already were as you rolled your hips over his face. You could practically feel his smirk buried in your pussy as the movements of his tongue became more precise, flicking at your clit making you whimper as you braced yourself on the edge of the couch, grasping at the cushions. 

“Javi… Fuck, oh my god.” You whined, feeling the tension begin to build in your belly as Javi wrapped his plush lips around your mound, sucking feverishly as you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding down harder, the hairs of his mustache brushing against your thighs. You could feel him hum in approval against your cunt as your back began to arch, a familiar tingle growing at the base of your spine as his mouth latched firmer around your clit, desperate to make you come undone. 

“Fuck, baby- oh shit- Javi, don’t stop, fuck, fuck, I’m so close. Fuck, I’m- mhhhmmmmmm.” Your orgasm crashed through you, pleasure overtaking your body as you came, whimpering and moaning Javi’s name as he dug his fingers deeper into your flesh, holding you against him as he continued to work you through your high.  Your body went slack, draping your upper half over the edge of the couch as you felt Javi scoot out from under you, looking down to see his face glistening in your slick, accompanied by a boyish grin as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he gazed back up at you. 

“Goddamn, Hermosa. Fucking soaked me. That feel good, pretty girl? You want more?” You nodded frantically at him, still at a loss for words as your chest heaved with each shaky breath. Gently grabbing your waist, he shifted you down so your back laid buried in the comforters and head rested against a pile of pillows, planting soft kisses down your body as he quickly pushed his sweatpants and boxers down his legs, freeing his painfully hard cock, its tip already dripping with precum, staining the fabric of the pants and underwear it had been straining against. He reached down, stroking his dick as he lined himself up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds, already soaked with your slick from your last orgasm, before slowly pressing inside you, letting you savor every inch of his length buried deep inside you. His hips flushed against yours as he bottomed out, his fullness stretching you open with the sweet sting that had become one of your favorite feelings in the world. “Always so wet for me, Osita. Fuck, I can’t believe this perfect fucking pussy is mine forever. You’re mine forever.” He mewled, slowly pulling himself back before pressing deep inside you again, each stroke making you feel even fuller than the last. 

“Forever.” You whispered back, your voice trembling as his cock pushed further into your cunt, practically hearing the lewd noises of wetness between the both of you as he thrusted in and out. Sitting back on his heels, Javi hooked his arms under your legs, pressing them to your chest, gently rubbing circles against your already throbbing clit before sinking back into you, the stretch of the new angle and added sensation of his fingers making you whine as your arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingernails digging into your back. “Fuck, Javi. You feel so big, fuck, it feels so good.” 

“Fuck me.” Javi hissed, the rhythm of his hips hitting yours beginning to become more rapid and desperate as he watched you writhe under him. “You’re fucking perfect, Osita. Gonna be a perfect wife, a perfect mom, fuck- I can’t wait to marry you, live in our house- oh shit- Fill it with our kids. Fuck, te lo daré todo (I’ll give you everything).” 

Everything was making your mind go blank- his words, his fingers rubbing against your clit, his cock pounding into you, over and over in the spot that had you seeing stars. The coil in your belly began to build as Javi buried his face in the nape of your neck, nipping and sucking at your pulse point, his words hot and heavy on your skin. You could feel your cunt beginning to clench tighter around his length, your heart beating fast as your orgasm began to build with each push and pull out of your heat. “I know you’re close, baby. Give it to me, Hermosa. Cum all over my cock. Gonna fuck myself so deep inside you, shit, can’t wait until I can fuck a baby into you, wish I could make myself stick, fucking get you pregnant right now.” 

Just like that, something inside you snapped, your body tensing as you felt yourself squeeze around Javi’s dick, soaking him as your orgasm ripped through you. A string of expletives and his name fell from your mouth, your brain short circuiting from the overwhelming intensity, sobbing into his shoulder as you came. It wasn’t long until Javi was close behind you, rapidly chasing his own high as he pounded into your heat, dripping with your slick. “That’s it, baby. Such a good girl. Fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer. Meirda- so wet and tight for me. Oh fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum too, holy- ahhhhhhh.” Javi gritted his teeth as he thrusted one last time, spilling deep in your walls, making sure to milk himself of every last drop as he slumped on top of you, your chests rising and falling in unison as you tried to catch your breath. 

“Jesus Christ…” You laughed to yourself under your breath, reaching up to run your hand through Javi’s curls, dark and damp as they stuck to his forehead. “Javi, if you keep saying shit like that when we fuck, I am gonna end up pregnant before we get married.” 

“And that would be a bad thing because…” Javi smirked, pressing a tender kiss against your lips, feeling his grin on your mouth. 

“Javi!” You giggled, rolling your eyes and playfully swatting at his bare chest as he hovered over you, gently twisting his fingers through the messy ends of your hair. “We have talked about this! Once we’re married and the house is all the way finished, then I’ll toss my birth control in the trash. But until then, you’re really making it work unpaid overtime, you menace. I hate to break it to you, but keeping your dick inside me isn’t gonna do anything for you right now.”

���Like you don’t like it.” He chuckled, the both of you letting out a little hiss at the loss of Javi being buried inside you, feeling the mixture of your spend drip down your thighs as he laid back down next to you, wrapping his arm around your back, pulling you closer as you rested your head on his chest, hiking your leg up over his hip. “I’m just saying, Osita, Christmas is only a few days away, you could just throw it away early and-” 

“JAVI!” You scolded him, giggling as he raised an eyebrow at you, giving a little shrug. “You will get plenty of other presents. That one’s gonna have to wait, as much as I don’t want to either. The house should be done right around the same time as the wedding anyways, so you won’t even have to wait that long.” 

The two of you had very easily decided that you didn’t want a big wedding by any means, bringing Chucho endless amounts of joy when you had asked him if you could have your celebration at the Peña ranch. The thought was the first thing that came to both you and Javi’s minds- something small and simple, really only wanting your close friends and family to join you on your big day in a place that held such importance to the both of you. While you and Javi had agreed that you would have married each other tomorrow, you had compromised with the middle of June, giving you a few weeks after the school year had finished to let you have some time to prep or plan anything else that needed to happen, without the end of the year school stressors on top of it.

 After working with Javi’s cousin, Danny, (who finally received your finalized floor plans a few days ago after finally compromising on your bedroom count), he was able to guess that given that the winter was normally less busy for him and his crew, he would also hopefully have the house done by mid to late June, planning to have the majority of the work completed after you came back from your Honeymoon,  you and Javi offering to finish up any last touches that he wouldn’t be able to get to after you returned. 

While the both of you had agreed that you would wait until you were married before your birth control prescription was canceled, never to be seen again, you managed to talk some sense into Javi, telling him the house needed to be finished before you started trying, God forbidding that something went wrong, leaving you who knows how pregnant in an unfinished house. Regardless, it hadn’t stopped Javi from the moment that ring went on your finger to play into just how badly he was ready to give you the family you deserved, making it very hard for the both of you to stick to your plan. 

“I know, I know.” He sighed contently, picking your arm up, draping it over his chest so he could play with the ring on your finger, delicately thumbing at the stone and gold band. “Knowing I get to spend the rest of my life with you is the only fucking Christmas present I’ll ever need for the rest of my life.” 

“You’re really trying to make your way back onto the Nice List, huh?” You giggled, biting down on your lip as you reached up to grab Javi’s face, giving it a little shake. “You’re all I’ll ever need, too, Javi.” A cheeky smirk spread across your face as you looked up at Javi, pressing a hot kiss against the skin of his neck before you spoke. “I gotta shower and clean this mess up, you wanna come with me and hang out on the Naughty List just a little bit longer?” 

“I’d take coal in my stocking any fucking day for you.” 

Someway or another, you managed to make it through the last two days of school, bribing your class with more play time, recess, and movies than you’d like to admit. You and Javi were planning to spend the second half of your break with your family in Chicago, giving you two a few days to celebrate your first Christmas in Laredo together, now that you were on break. You had agreed to spend Christmas Eve celebrating with Chucho, the 3 of you gathering at the Peña ranch in the afternoon, offering to help Javi’s dad with chores around the farm since he had graciously given everyone else the day off to spend with their families. It took no convincing on your end to go out and help Javi feed the animals, one of your favorite chores on the farm, especially when it came to the cows. 

“I can’t believe how big they are.” You cooed, scratching one of the not so baby cows you had met for the first time a few months ago along its nose, giggling as it gave you a little lick. 

“They don’t stay little and cute for very long.” Javi chuckled, throwing the last bale of hay over the fence into one of the troughs, wiping his hands along his plaid shirt before resting his arm around your waist, standing next to you as you continued scratching and petting the rest of the cows that had gathered looking for attention. 

“Excuse you? They are still incredibly cute! Apologize to these sweet babies!” You gasped dramatically, holding your hand over your chest as you swatted at Javi. 

“Hermosa, they’re cows. They’re loud and annoying once they’re full grown, and last time I checked, I don’t think they can understand what I’m saying.” He laughed as you looked back at him with fake disgust, taking a step back, crossing your arms over your chest. Before you could argue back, one of the cows let out a long, loud mooooo, pointed in Javi’s direction, turning to look back at the cow before looking back at Javi. 

“I think that’s cow for fuck you, I am cute.” You smirked, giving Javi a little shrug as you nodded back at the cow. 

“Whatever, you dork.” Javi sighed, rolling his eyes at you as the two of you grabbed the rest of the feed buckets, heading back to the truck. 

The two of you finished your rounds and  you and Javi made your way back to the house to find Chucho humming away in the kitchen, chopping and dicing up vegetables to throw into his simmering pot of broth for the Pozole he had promised Javi for their Christmas Eve meal. 

“Chucho, do you think that cows are cute?” You questioned, kicking off your shoes at the door, Javi following behind, shaking his head. Chucho chuckled to himself, wiping his hands along his worn apron before picking up his wooden spoon to stir his stew. 

“Why are you asking?” He asked, looking over at you as you made your way into the kitchen, popping a leftover piece of pepper into your mouth, talking between chews. 

“Because your son doesn’t think they are, and had the audacity to tell the cows to their face they were, in fact, not cute.” You glared over at Javi, trying to hold back your laughter as you pretend to be stern. 

“They’re cute when they’re little but once you have to deal with them every day, full grown, they’re a pain in the ass.” Javi sighed, following behind you, sneaking between you and his dad to take down some bowls out of the cabinet, setting them on the table. 

“That is because Javier never pays attention when he walks through the pasture, and always ends up with a boot full of cow shit. I think they are cute, Mija. Not as cute as some other animals, or as cute as human babies…” He paused, raising an eyebrow at the two of you, smirking. “But yes, still cute.” 

“Told you so. You can’t blame the cows for your shit shoes, that’s on you, Jav.” You giggled, hitting him in the chest before grabbing spoons and napkins to set down next to the bowls Javi had placed. “Do you need help with anything else, Chucho? It smells delicious, I’m glad your cow bashing son requested it tonight.” 

“Cabrón (asshole).” Javi groaned. “Mamá would always make pozole and tamales for everyone on Christmas eve. She would put all of the cousins to work kneading the dough and assembling the tamales. She would hold the piñata hostage until we helped her finish, which I can’t blame her for. Her tamales were delicious, but I always think about having her pozole and eating a shit load of candy before crashing on the couch trying to stay up, waiting for Santa when I think about Christmas.” 

“Before Lucia died, every year we would host our whole family here for Christmas eve. Dios Mio, there must have been 30 crammed in here each year, singing and dancing, making more tamales than anyone could count. No matter how hard he tried, Javier would always be the first to fall asleep on the couch, and we would have to carry him to bed. I think he would get so excited he would wear himself out.” Chucho smiled, turning off the stove, bringing the pot of the pozole to the kitchen table, the two of you pulling out a chair to take a seat. 

“She sounds like she was such a fun lady. I wish I could have met her. And eaten her tamales, because I bet that they were amazing.” You beamed, looking over at Chucho and Javi, Javi now settling into the seat next to you, draping his arm over the back of your chair as Chucho stayed standing, letting out a content sigh as he placed a hand on his hip. 

“Well Mija, I was planning on giving your Christmas gift to you later, but now that you bring it up, now seems as good a time as any.” Chucho smirked, waddling his way over to the living room, as you and Javi glanced at each other in confusion, waiting for his return. A few moments later, Chucho was back, carrying a small, red package with a white ribbon wrapped around it, outstretching it towards you. 

“Chucho, you didn’t have to get me anything, I-” You protested, not accepting the gift until Chucho was sliding it across the table, placing it right in front of you. 

“It is a gift for both of you. I know that Lucia would have been so thrilled to know how happy you have made our Javier. How happy you have made both of our lives. She would have loved you so dearly, hija, and would have wanted you to have these as you and Javier start your own family.” Tears welled behind Chucho’s eyes as you carefully took the package in your hands, resting it between you and Javi as the both of you gently ripping away the wrapping paper and bow to reveal what was inside Chucho’s gift. You held a small, leather bound book between you two, Chucho gesturing to have you open it to see what was inside. As you flipped back the cover, you revealed the first page, a picture of a young Lucia in the very same kitchen the 3 of you found yourself in, smiling at the camera as she stirred a pot of something on the stove, apron tied around her waist. Below the photo were bold, shaky cursive letters, reading “Lucia’s Recipes.” 

“Pops…” Javi whispered in shock, delicately touching the page, gazing up at his dad.  

“Your mamá would have wanted you to have all of them. She always told me that she couldn’t wait for the day she could have a daughter to share all of her cooking secrets with. She would have been even more excited to share them with you Mija, knowing the wonderful woman that you are.” 

Carefully turning the page, you could feel your lip quiver as you looked at Chucho, feeling how watery your eyes were now becoming. “Chucho, this is- I don’t- thank you, Chucho. This is so special. I’m honored you want them to share them, I- I know how important these are to your family.” 

“You are family, hija.” Handing the book off to Javi, you pushed up out of your chair, making your way over to Chucho to wrap him in a tight hug, Chucho quickly reciprocating, squeezing you back.   

“Thank you, Chucho.” You whispered into his shoulder, trying your best to keep from sobbing as Javi pushed out of his chair, joining the both of you in a group hug, holding the two people he loved most in the world in his broad grasp. 

“Thanks, Pops.” 

“Los amo a los dos (I love you both).” Chucho sniffed, pulling away to wipe away the tears streaming down his cheeks. “Now, let’s eat this pozole, I can hear Lucia yelling at me for letting it start to go cold.” 

The 3 of you spent the rest of your night full of pozole, Javi finishing off at least 3 bowls as you talked at the kitchen table, sharing stories of your favorite holiday traditions and memories. Chucho broke out at least 4 different photo albums to share photos of Christmases past, filled with lots of ones of an adorable Javi and his bright, toothy grin as he opened up presents. Chucho was thrilled with the present you and Javi had gotten for him- a new work jacket for out on the ranch, Javi noting that he probably was still wearing the same jacket he did when Javi was first born. 

You and Javi had insisted that you let Chucho help you clean up around the kitchen after making you dinner, practically having to force him to sit down in his chair to relax while the two of you got to work collecting and cleaning dishes in the sink. You got to work washing as Javi dried, taking time to turn on the radio in the kitchen, raising the volume as he tuned in to the local station that had been playing nothing but Christmas music for the past week. “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”  began playing from the speakers, immediately beginning to sing along, swaying your hips, scrubbing the last of the pots and pans. Javi snuck up behind you, snaking his hands around your waist, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder as his chest pressed against your back. 

“Dance with me.” He whispered, placing his hands on your hips to spin you around, making you giggle as your sponge splashed in the sink, playfully drying your wet hands against his flannel before interlacing one of your hands with his, the other one resting on his shoulder as he wrapped his free hand around the small of your back. The two of you gently swayed in the dim light of the kitchen, the soft sounds of Frank Sinatra’s voice humming in the background. 

Here we are as in olden days, happy golden days of yore. Faithful friends who are dear to us, gather near to us once more. 

As the sweet and syrupy melody of the song played on, Javi held up his hand, prompting you to spin under his outstretched arm before pulling you back in, resting his hand on your back, the other holding your face as he dipped you down, his lips curled in a tender grin against yours as he leaned in to kiss you. 

Through the years, we all will be together, if the fates allow. Hang a shining star upon the highest bough. And have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

“I love you, Osita.” 

“I love you more, you dork.” 

You rested your head on his chest, smiling into the worn fabric of his button up, soaking up the sweet simplicity of the moment- how right then and there, it felt like there was no one in the world but the two of you, slow dancing in Chucho’s kitchen, arms wrapped tight around the man you loved. It felt like holding everything you’d ever need. Everything you’d ever want.  It felt like holding your home. 

 If there was one thing you were not, it was patient, especially when it came to waiting. You never had been, and at this point in your life, you were very much convinced you never would be. Ever since you could remember, you were always the first one up in your house on Christmas, frantically waking up your parents and brothers to let them know presents were stacked under the tree at an ungodly hour, forcing your parents to implement the “If you don’t stay in your bed until 6 A.M. you won’t get any of your presents” rule to try and save some ounce of their sanity for the chaos that ensued after the 4 of you were really wide awake. Even as an adult, you couldn’t help but wake up giddy on Christmas, feeling as bright eyed and bushy tailed as you did all those years ago as a kid. While Javi was very aware of your love for Christmas, he wasn’t aware of the fact that it meant that you would be wide awake, waiting for him to wake up this early in the morning. 

“Merry Christmas!” You squealed, trying your best to contain your excitement as you watched Javi finally begin to stir, his sleepy curls peeking out from under the covers, eyes squinting and blinking heavily as he let out a big yawn, draping his arm over your waist, half awake. 

“Good morning.” He grumbled, rubbing his hand over his face, practically still asleep.  “What time is it?” 

“6:45…” You replied, grimacing sheepishly, wincing at the early hours plastered on your alarm clock. “You can go back to sleep if you want to, sorry if I woke you up.” 

“6:45? Jesus, how long have you already been up for, Osita?” He sighed, propping himself up on his elbows, running his hands through the messy ends of his hair. 

“Not that long…” You muttered, looking away from him, hoping it would deter him interrogating further. Javi said nothing- he only cocked his head to the side and stared with that look he gave you when he knew you were hiding something, knowing damn well his tired, puppy dog eyes would pull the truth out of you. “Fine…” You huffed, turning back to him. “I’ve been up since 6.” 

“6 in the morning? Jesus Christ, hermosa.” Javi laughed to himself, shaking his head as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to lay against his bare chest. “I guess I can’t say I’m surprised. What the hell have you been doing since you got up?” 

“I made coffee, took a giant shit after I drank the coffee, turned on the lights to the Christmas tree, put Christmas music on in the living room, and then I came back to bed and I’ve been trying to read while I was waiting for you to wake up.” 

Javi could do nothing but let out an amused sigh as he pressed a long kiss into the top of your head. “You’re insane, you know that?” 

“You’re the one who proposed.” You sassed back, holding your ring in Javi’s face, a playful smirk growing across your face before giving him a little poke on his chest. His response to your witty remark was grabbing you by the waist, flipping you on top of him as he tickled your sides, pecking quick kisses along your body, making you flail and squirm as you erupted with giggles. “Let go, pendejo! You’re gonna end up with a black eye for Christmas if you don’t stop!” 

“I’d like to see you try.” He grinned, releasing you from his grasp, giving you a little shove. “Alright, well I’m fucking awake now.” Reaching his arms over his head, Javi let out another loud yawn. 

“I made you coffee.” You shrugged, trying to provide at least a little peace offering to him for your early morning wake up. 

“I’d fucking hope so.” The two of you laughed as you shuffled out of bed, Javi lazily throwing on a t-shirt and pajama pants before you both wandered out of the bedroom, you at a much quicker pace than Javi. 

As much as Javi wanted to give you a hard time about your over exaggerated enthusiasm this early in the morning, he couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter as he walked into the living room, seeing you sit curled up on the couch, clutching a mug of coffee, beaming at Javi as Christmas music played softly in the background, the walls dimly lit by the twinkling lights of tree, being hit with the realization that every Christmas for the rest of his life, would be a Christmas spent with you. 

“For you.” You smiled, holding out Javi’s mug, steam dancing off the top of the bitter brown liquid. “My family always opened presents before we did anything else, but if you have something else that your family always did, or you don’t want to, we can-” 

“Osita, I know you wanna open presents first, it’s okay.” Javi snickered, kissing your forehead before you shot up off the couch, running over to the tree to grab one of the several neatly wrapped boxes stacked beneath it. 

“Okay, thank God, I think I would have spontaneously combusted if I had to wait any longer to give you your gifts.” Hurrying back over to the couch, you placed your boxes on Javi’s lap, snuggling back up next to him as he began to tear away at the wrapping paper of the smallest package. 

“You don’t have any photos on your desk, so I figured I’d get you one. That way you can stare at my ugly mug all day long.” You joked, nodding toward the picture frame Javi was holding with a picture from your cousin’s wedding a few months back. 

“Shut up. Thank you, I do need more pictures of us in my office, and you look so hot in this picture.” He smirked, giving you a little nudge before picking up the next gift in your pile. “Thank you, Osita.” 

“Says the one who’s in the fucking tuxedo in that photo.” You rolled your eyes, watching Javi shake the wrapping paper off the next box. 

“Fuck, I’ve been needing new boots. Thank you, Osita, these are so nice.” Javi grinned, holding up the dark leather shoes, letting the bottom of the box drop to the floor. 

“I know you have, and you refuse to buy yourself new ones, so I figured I’d upgrade them for you.” You crossed your arms over your chest at Javi, wondering how he’d ever convince himself that he wasn’t just as stubborn as you. 

“Jesus, this is heavy.” He laughed, working away at the wrapping to reveal a plain, cardboard box, giving you a confused look. 

“It didn’t come in a box and I couldn’t wrap it how it was. I promise you your first gift isn’t a heavy cardboard box.” The two of you laughed as Javi tore the tape holding the top together, digging through the tissue paper, eyes going wide at the contents of the box. 

“Osita…” He warned, pulling out the bottle of his favorite Texas branded whisky he would only order for himself on nice occasions, knowing 1- how hard it was to find, and 2- that it was not cheap. 

“Don’t even try to start with me. It’s Christmas and I love you and you deserve all the nicest things in the world. I know how much you love this stuff, even though it tastes like pure gasoline, and that you would never buy it for yourself.” You smirked, grabbing under his chin, squeezing his cheeks. 

“Thank you, Osita. Where the hell did you find this stuff?” Javi looked at the bottle in disbelief, examining it before setting it carefully back on the ground. 

“Steve knew a guy.” You shrugged, only pausing for a moment before pushing yourself off the cushions, only to be stopped by Javi’s grasp around your wrist, pulling you back down. 

“These are all perfect, baby. Thank you so much. You're too good tot me. My turn.” Javi grinned, grunting as he got up off the couch, looking through the boxes to find the one he wanted, snatching it up and handing it over to you, immediately beginning to shed the box of its paper. “If you don’t- if you don’t like it or don’t want it, that’s okay, but I figured-” 

“Javi, I’m sure whatever it is, I’ll love it.” Taking a pause from your unwrapping, you reached over to give Javi’s knee a squeeze, smiling at him before shuffling the lid off the top of the long box. “Oh no way! Are you serious?!” You squealed, holding up the emerald green and black Dallas Stars hockey jersey. “Javi, what the fuck, this is so cool! Thank you!” You dropped the jersey in your lap, leaning over to give him a tight hug. 

“Thank god, I was worried you were gonna be pissed it wasn’t a Blackhawks jersey, but I think you already have 2 here, and like 3 more at your parents house, so I figured, you might like one for the Stars, too.” Javi sighed, relieved that his gift wasn’t about to stir up any unwanted hockey tensions. 

“I will wear it every game, except for when we play the Blackhawks- Then I will bury it deep in the closet.” You giggled, picking it back up to stare at it, oblivious to the fact that Javi had already gotten up again to get you another gift.

“These two go together.” He smiled, handing you over the much smaller box as you tilted your head in confusion. You quickly unwrapped the second box, a smaller version of the box for your jersey you had just opened. Still unsure of how something so tiny could go with your new jersey, you suspiciously lifted up the lid, your jaw dropping as you saw what was inside. “Holy fuck, Javi, are you serious?!” You gasped, pulling two tickets to the Dallas Stars vs. Chicago Blackhawks game, clutching them like you couldn’t believe they were real. Taking a second to actually read the ticket, your mouth gaped even further. “Jav, holy shit, these seats are-” 

“Against the glass.” Javi smirked, watching your eyes dart back and forth between the tickets and his smug grin. 

“But what about- how are we, wait- wouldn’t we have to-“ you mumbled to yourself, trying to process the gift while figuring out the logistics of getting to and from a night game in Dallas from Laredo. 

“I’ve got it all taken care of. The game is on Friday in February, the other 3rd grade teachers said they would do whatever to help you take that Friday off, our flight leaves at 2, we land in Dallas at 3:30, and I have a hotel booked for Friday and Saturday. Figured we could make a weekend of it.” 

“Javi- You can’t- Javi this is too much- baby, are you serious?” You whispered, breath shaky as you looked up at his beaming face, leaning in to kiss you. 

“I can, and I will. You deserve it. Merry Christmas, Osita. There’s one more thing.” He smirked, raising an eyebrow at you, grabbing one last present from under the tree and setting it in your lap. 

“Javier Peña, you do not need to get me anything else, I swear to God-” You protested, giving Javi a stern look as you stared at the present in your lap. 

“It’s not anything big, I saw it when I got the jersey and couldn’t help myself. Just open it, please?” He sighed, picking it up and bringing it even closer to you. 

“Okay, okay.” You shook your head, quickly tearing away the wrapping paper to reveal the box underneath. Lifting the lid, you dramatically rolled your eyes at Javi as you lifted up the red, lacy, lingerie that was tucked away in the tissue paper it had been delicately folded under. “This looks a lot more like a gift for you than a gift for me, Mr. Peña.” You laughed, giving Javi a playful nudge. 

“Well, if you put it on and let me unwrap you like the pretty little present you are, I’m sure I can find a way to make it a gift for the both of us.” Javi rasped, leaning over to nip at the exposed skin of your neck, making you let out a breathy moan, before coming to your senses, immediately darting up off the couch towards your bedroom. 

“Where the hell are you going?” Javi asked, laughing at you as you sped off, lingerie in your hands. 

“Changing so you can unwrap your last present!” You winked, wiggling the lacy outfit in the air before ducking into the bedroom. “Hey!” You shouted, your voice slightly muffled from behind the bedroom door, creaking it open to pop your head back out. 

“What, hermosa?” Javi laughed, awestruck smile glowing across his face as he stared at you. 

“I love you, Javier Peña. Merry Christmas.” 

“Merry Christmas, Osita. I love you more.”

Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @blackfemalenerd @deppydelta @beware-my-thorns

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Naomi Klein's "Doppelganger"

Tomorrow (September 6) at 7pm, I'll be hosting Naomi Klein at the LA Public Library for the launch of Doppelganger.

On September 12 at 7pm, I'll be at Toronto's Another Story Bookshop with my new book The Internet Con: How to Seize the Means of Computation.

If the Naomi be Klein you’re doing just fine If the Naomi be Wolf Oh, buddy. Ooooof.

I learned this rhyme in Doppelganger, Naomi Klein's indescribable semi-memoir that is (more or less) about the way that people confuse her with Naomi Wolf, and how that fact has taken on a new urgency as Wolf descended into conspiratorial politics, becoming a far-right darling and frequent Steve Bannon guest:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9780374610326/doppelganger

This is a very odd book. It is also a very, very good book. The premise – exploring the two Naomis' divergence – is a surprisingly sturdy scaffold for an ambitious, wide-ranging exploration of this very frightening moment of polycrisis and systemic failure:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lCjcwVhFhTA

Wolf once had a cluster of superficial political and personal similarities to Klein: a feminist author of real literary ability, a Jewish woman, and, of course, a Naomi. Klein grew accustomed to being mistaken for Wolf, but never fully comfortable. Wolf's politics were always more Sheryl Sandberg than bell hooks (or Emma Goldman). While Klein talked about capitalism and class and solidarity, Wolf wanted to "empower" individual women to thrive in a market system that would always produce millions of losers for every winner.

Fundamentally: Klein is a leftist, Wolf was a liberal. The classic leftist distinction goes: leftists want to abolish a system where 150 white men run the world; liberals want to replace half of those 150 with women, queers and people of color.

The past forty years have seen the rise and rise of a right wing politics that started out extreme (think of Reagan and Thatcher's support for Pinochet's death-squads) and only got worse. Liberals and leftists forged an uneasy alliance, with liberals in the lead (literally, in Canada, where today, Justin Trudeau's Liberal Party governs in partnership with the nominally left NDP).

But whenever real leftist transformation was possible, liberals threw in with conservatives: think of the smearing and defenestration of Corbyn by Labour's right, or of the LibDems coalition with David Cameron's Tories, or of the Democrats' dirty tricks to keep Bernie from appearing on the national ballot.

Lacking any kind of transformational agenda, the liberal answer to capitalism's problems always comes down to minor tweaks ("making sure half of our rulers are women, queers and people of color") rather than meaningful, structural shifts. This leaves liberals in the increasingly absurd position of defending the indefensible: insisting that the FDA shouldn't be questioned despite its ghastly failures during the opioid epidemic; claiming that the voting machine companies whose defective products have been the source of increasingly urgent technical criticism are without flaw; embracing the "intelligence community" as the guardians of the best version of America; cheerleading for deindustrialization while telling the workers it harmed with "learn to code"; demanding more intervention in speech by our monopolistic tech companies; and so on.

It's not like leftists ever stopped talking about the importance of transformation and not just reform. But as the junior partners in the progressive coalition, leftists have been drowned out by liberal reformers. In most of the world, if you are worried about falling wages, corporate capture of government, and scientific failures due to weak regulators, the "progressive" answer was to tell you it was all in your head, that you were an unhinged conspiratorialist:

https://doctorow.medium.com/the-swivel-eyed-loons-have-a-point-3434d7cbfae2

For Klein, it's this failure that the faux-populist right has exploited, redirecting legitimate anger and fear into racist, xenophobic, homophobic, sexist and transphobic rage. The deep-pocketed backers of the conservative movement didn't just find a method to get turkeys to vote for Christmas – progressives created the conditions that made that method possible.

If progressives answer pregnant peoples' concerns about vaccine risks – concerns rooted in the absolute failure of prenatal care – with dismissals, while conservatives accept those concerns and funnel them into conspiratorialism, then progressives' message becomes, "We are the movement of keeping things as they are," while conservatives become the movement of "things have to change." Think here of the 2016 liberal slogan, "America was already great," as an answer to the faux-populist rallying cry, "Make America great again."

When liberals get to define what it means to be "progressive," the fundamental, systemic critique is swept away. Conservatives – conservatives! – get to claim the revolutionary mantle, to insist that they alone are interested in root-and-branch transformation of society.

Like the two Naomis, conservatives and progressives become warped mirrors of one another. The progressive campaign for bodily autonomy is co-opted to be the foundation of the anti-vax movement. This is the mirror world, where concerns about real children – in border detention, or living in poverty in America – are reflected back as warped fever-swamp hallucinations about kids in imaginary pizza restaurant basements and Hollywood blood sacrifice rituals. The mirror world replaces RBG with Amy Coney-Barrett and calls it a victory for women. The mirror world defends workers by stoking xenophobic fears about immigrants.

But progressives let it happen. Progressives cede anti-surveillance to conservatives, defending reverse warrants when they're used to enumerate Jan 6 insurrectionists (nevermind that these warrants are mostly used to round up BLM demonstrators). Progressives cede suspicion of large corporations to conservatives, defending giant, exploitative, monopolistic corporations so long as they arouse conservative ire with some performative DEI key-jingling. Progressives defend the CIA and FBI when they're wrongfooting Trump, and voting machine vendors when they're turned into props for the Big Lie.

These issues are transformed in the mirror world: from grave concerns about real things, into unhinged conspiracies about imaginary things. Urgent environmental concerns are turned into a pretense to ban offshore wind turbines ("to protect the birds"). Worry about gender equality is transformed into seminars about women's representation in US drone-killing squads.

For Klein, the transformation of Wolf from liberal icon – Democratic Party consultant and Lean-In-type feminist icon – to rifle-toting Trumpling with a regular spot on the Steve Bannon Power Hour is an entrypoint to understanding the mirror world. How did so many hippie-granola yoga types turn into vicious eugenicists whose answer to "wear a mask to protect the immunocompromised" is "they should die"?

The PastelQ phenomenon – the holistic medicine and "clean eating" to QAnon pipeline – recalls the Nazi obsession with physical fitness, outdoor activities and "natural" living. The neoliberal transformation of health from a collective endeavor – dependent on environmental regulation, sanitation, and public medicine – into a private one, built entirely on "personal choices," leads inexorably to eugenics.

Once you start looking for the mirror world, you see it everywhere. AI chatbots are mirrors of experts, only instead of giving you informed opinions, they plagiarize sentence-fragments into statistically plausible paragraphs. Brands are the mirror-world version of quality, a symbol that isn't a mark of reliability, but a mark of a mark, a sign pointing at nothing. Your own brand – something we're increasingly expected to have – is the mirror world image of you.

The mirror world's overwhelming motif is "I know you are, but what am I?" As in, "Oh, you're a socialist? Well, you know that 'Nazi' stands for 'National Socialist, right?" (and inevitably, this comes from someone who obsesses over the 'Great Replacement' and considers themself a 'race realist').

This isn't serious politics, but it is seriously important. "Antisemitism is the socialism of fools," its obsession with "international bankers" the mirror-world version of the real and present danger from big finance and private equity wreckers. And, as Klein discusses with great nuance and power, the antisemitism discussion is eroded from both sides: both by antisemites, and by doctrinaire Zionists who insist that any criticism of Israel is always and ever antisemetic.

As a Jew in solidarity with Palestinians, I found this section of the book especially good – thoughtful and vigorous, pulling no punches and still capturing the discomfort aroused by this deliberately poisoned debate.

This thoughtful, vigorous prose and argumentation deserves its own special callout here: Klein has produced a first-rate literary work just as much as this is a superb philosophical and political tome. In this moment where the mirror world is exploding and the real world is contracting, this is an essential read.

I'll be Klein's interlocutor tomorrow night (Sept 6) at the LA launch for Doppelganger. We'll be appearing at 7PM at the @LAPublicLibrary:

https://lafl.org/ALOUD

Livestreaming at:

https://youtube.com/live/jIoAh-jxb2k

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/05/not-that-naomi/#if-the-naomi-be-klein-youre-doing-just-fine

[cyberphuck]

The Patreon Post

SO HERE'S THE DEAL: I do not want to make anyone have to pay to see my art.

Let's be real: there are like fifty bajillion other, more skilled, and better-known artists on Patreon putting out more detailed, more unique, more in-demand, and just more art than I am (or want to). I'm a self-taught, frequently distracted amateur who's had an iPad for a year. I'm not gonna pretend that I am going to be able to pull in more Patreon subs-- or keep them, for that matter-- on the strength of my random doodles alone. I have never really thought or even hoped that I could do that, because it would mean Doing Art As A Job, and I absolutely do not want to associate "drawing" with "work." (I also don't have the means, time, motivation or experience to self-promote and/or keep a small community of followers entertained, and even the thought of having to do all that on top of having to Draw For Work is terrifying.) There's the self esteem-destroying gutpunch that someone with BPD (me haha!) receives when they ask if something they created is "worth" a certain amount and are answered with silence. (If you have BPD, you know that 'silence' is so much worse than 'no.') I don't think that anyone is actually saying my work is worthless any more than I think stairs were invented to fuck over people with bad knees, but I want to avoid one for the same reason I avoid the other: hurts and bad for healing. And also, maybe most importantly, most of the fans of my work are my friends, and most of my friends are poor people. I do not ever want someone to have to choose between "Eggman weeping as he cradles a slain Speedy Gonzales" and "rent." Lots of people I know just don't have any money to spare even for professionally made entertainment, or, like me, sometimes they have money (yay, beginning of the month!) and sometimes they don't (booo, end of the month). I'm not gonna put a paywall between my friends and my art. So, as always, you can view all of my art on Patreon for free, without an account*. (*you will have to have an account to view NSFW stuff but this will be in the 'free' tier as well.) H O W E V E R. You guys I am so fucking poor. If you follow my blog you know the whole story already-- mental illness, chronic illness, chronic mental illness, surprise rescue puppies, surprise fines from the city, the fukken recently concussed clown show that is social services in my area-- and you've seen me having to crowdfund for everything from food to gas to dog emergencies. We budget down to the cent and have cut out so many things (like the meal replacement shakes for my eating disorder lol) and we're still not making ends meet. I've got friends who help, and they help a lot, but I hate the miserable, humiliating task of asking for help every single month. (You guys also know that I don't have family that can help me, even if shit goes critical. I was on my own while I was a homeless sex worker, on my own when we lived in a shed with no windows, on my own when we were in a house with no heat and only one source of running water, and definitely on my own now, in desperate need of mobility aids, house cleaners, and a god damn break.)

So here's where I'm at: I can't ask a few people for a lot of support, but I can ask a bunch of people for a little bit. If you like my art and want to help me keep making it, want to help me make shitpost replies to people on the internet, want to help me do free askbox art challenges: Put your doodle prompt requests in the askbox. You can even request stuff anonymously! Participate in polls about what prompts you wanna see. Reblog the art you like, show off the doodle you got, leave keysmashes in the tags. The more people see the post, the more statistically likely it is we'll find the one person on Tumblr with disposable income. Also, people should know they can get free art when the prompts are live! Sub to the Patreon if you can spare three bucks a month (you can also do Ko-fi if you don't want to make a Patreon account). Ko-fi is also a good place to just plunk something into the tip jar once in a while. There are Artcards and Monthly Sketch sub tiers on Patreon for a little bit more, but I will send an Artcard to pretty much anyone who asks as long as I have some left. The art is free, it will always be free. But if you can, spare a dollar (or three).

[dissociacrip]

some ways that congenital hypotonia affects me personally in my everyday life

disclaimer: this is a "i want to see hypotonia talked about more"/vent-post adjacent thing rather than something that should be used as some kind of diagnostic reference. hypotonia is more of a symptom than a condition on its own & is associated with a wide variety of diagnoses, i personally don't have a label or explanation for what i experience other than "congenital hypotonia" (and my case is not "self-diagnosed," this was identified when i was still a child.)

generalized hypermobility and painful joint instability either caused by hypotonia or at least contributed to by it if not; no frequent dislocations but joints still tracking badly (especially my knees) and causing pain, ankle instability once gave me an injury

related to above, knees have occasionally buckled/threatened to give out, usually when i'm tired or when i've stood from a sitting position in a chair

unfixable bad posture putting unnecessary strain on a lot of things (reason why my hamstring muscles are so tight)

sitting or standing up easily causing fatigue and pain unless something else is adquately supporting my body (normal chairs usually don't suffice because that still requires adequate posture)

related to above, persistent need to lean on things for support; this is the primary reason why i own a cane

staying in bed a lot due to the above because it's the only time my body doesn't have to support itself

tendency to drool, usually when laying down

dysphagia (things feel "stuck" in my throat a lot, swallowing capsules is becoming more and more uncomfortable), aspirating food/water, acid reflux making these issues worse

may or may not be part of the reason i'm a bit of a loud breather

sometimes chewing hurts or is tiring (or talking)

related to above, mild speech issues mainly affecting articulation (e.g. mouth making a "v" sound rather than "th" sometimes), makes speech physically feel weird or forced, or something even painful; sometimes "talking out of the side of my mouth"

poor grip = poor handwriting, also often makes writing or gripping things painful, including holding/typing on my phone

related to above, makes drawing hard because i don't have proper grip/as much control over my hands as i should

doesn't happen too often but almost randomly losing my balance; i'll just be standing minding my own business and then i'll start tipping over

related to above, can't just stand still and be still, i start tipping in different directions and i think i've subconsciously learned to counteract this when i'n required to stand in place

walking/moving slowly because it feels like my muscles don't have the capacity to move any faster, even if i'm not really "tired" per-se (decreased state of readiness for movement)

have a very hard time holding my head up spine even remotely straight when i am actually tired/worn out

legs/arms start shaking if i hold them out against gravity

also, legs shake if i sit on the floor/a flat surface with my knees bent upward, or arms quickly start to give out if i lay on my stomach and prop myself up on my elbows

walking feels awkward/uncomfortable and wrong most of the time; anything wrong with my gait is probably only recognizable to a PT or someone else who knows what they're looking for, but things just feel too loose/floppy when i walk; probably the reason why i'm prone to tripping and accidentally kicking stuff (POTS-induced ataxia - or w/e it is - makes this much worse)

also probably contributes to constipation and maybe other digestive problems

there's probably more but that's all i can think of for now. this is not universal hypotonia experience as hypotonia is a symptom that varies in its severity and my case seems fairly mild, but i thought i'd talk a little bit about what it's like since it's an under-discussed thing (especially pertaining to disabled adulthood.)

this is okay to reblog.

[bl00dlight]

people need to understand that exploring the entire green family's personalities is similar to analyzing complexities : they epitomize the damaged and self-condemned house that only has pursued regal bargains with powers, fixing them stays almost impossible, because revenge or leaning on destructive methods to protect their tarnished dignities is their only comfort. aemond isn't the sweet offspring who prefers to study in library as a refuge, this weakness has permitted his rage hidden for years to lash out, leading their entire family to a worse occurence being the dance. his entire character is an accumulation of bad norms being forcibly swallowed because princes have duties. he's the second son, he's like the mixture of the favored person because of his gender while experiencing the neglect of all daughters viewed as future objects and irrevelant "creatures" who must reside in the shadows while letting the adults deal with matters and affairs of the realm, this leading him to become a villainous character, hungering to use his priveleges and knowledge to force others to submit to his demands after becoming the regent. his pride doesn't let him grow soft or vulnerable, if we remember the brothel scene, we finally observe the truest inner wounded child of aemond, laid bare and in the arms of a person who might impart motherly solace/shoulders to lay his head on in moment of burdens. but this doesn't mean he's a good person, my good instinct tells me that if for instance helaena decides to help him out of volition and they all win the war ( as an alternative universe ), he won't hesitate to discard the female members of his family, due to him being raised with the oppressive point that men are more important than women. for me, it's not possible to wholly love this character, only pity and understanding and grudge are the only true emotions he deserves to get in returns in all interactions.

sorry for this long rambling, i'll perhaps write the full analysis of this character because aemond's bregrudgingly fascinating.

I agree almost 1000% with this. The only point I'd take you up on is in the hypothetical Aemond DID end up taking the throne/winning the war. I don't think he'd kill all the female members. In fact I don't think he'd kill all the male members either.

Obviously he'd get rid of Aegon, Daemon, Jace, Joffrey and Rhaenyra.

But I actually think he'd likely keep Baela, Rhaena, Aegon iii and Viserys ii.

Including ofc Alicent, Helaena and Jaehaera.

Because while yes, Aemond was raised to value male power more - I don't think he believes women are worthless. Patriarchal systems don't demote women to being WORTHLESS, they promote the idea that women's worth/role in society is reduced to domestic/childrearing tasks and sexual objectification.

I mean we know he doesn't think women are worthless because he didn't have a problem with Alicent stepping forward when King V was sick - nor does he think Helaena should evade battle. He also like pretty clearly states he believes Helaena has worth as Queen of the realm and as a dragonrider.

He wouldn't just kill all the women of his own house, otherwise... well... the line of Targs is gonna go down pretty quickly. Which we def see happen in the books, how once the Targs lost their Dragons and the amount of family members they had left started to narrow down - they began to intermarry into other houses more frequently.

So I think for the sake of sustaining his own bloodline he couldn't just kill off the female members of House Targaryen.

But other than that you're spot on with his personality and the dysfunction within his family.

[trevorite]

I just Wish.

[Now Normally I don't write fan fiction because I struggle with Writing but I did this as a practice so I can get better :D] [Ps: This ain't happy fan fiction Sob]

The rain fell making a soft pitter patter as it hit the roof of the Villa. Kerry was fast asleep and all cuddled up to his pillow, sleeping in just his underwear as he always did. Meanwhile Vincent was outside sitting down in one of the sun loungers that were near Kerry’s lake-like pool. He had a bottle of whiskey in one hand, and a cigarette between the fingers of his other hand. It may have been raining but V didn’t care, he just… needed some time to think. It felt like just yesterday everything happened… felt like just yesterday him and Jackie were having fun doing gigs, making fun of each other, and fucking around just being gonks together. That just yesterday he had gone out and done the horrid heist at Konpeki Plaza with Jackie and T-bug.. and had lost both of them. And that just yesterday Dexter Deshawn had put a bullet into his head, and he woke up with a terrorist named Johnny fucking Silverhand Yelling at him for a smoke. Truthfully that had only been a few months ago, but it all was still so vivid. The memories kept replaying in V’s head, and every time they did he felt more and more guilty. Didn’t help that he was also dying,  getting worse by the day. Finding a way to save both him and Johnny seemed impossible at this point, but he wasn’t going to just give up, not just yet. V sat up for a moment, setting the bottle of whiskey down as he took off his jacket. “Johnny?” he called out, waiting for a response. Of course the one time he wanted to talk to Johnny he was busy doing who knows what. V sighed, as he leaned back again. He had been feeling a bit down lately, and he couldn’t figure out why.. yeah he knew one of the reasons was because he was dying, but he just didn’t understand what else was making him so down. I mean he had everything he could dream of currently, a pretty and kind lover, a body that he felt comfortable in, fuck he had even been staying in a nice home with the man of his dreams. “Damn it Vincent… everything has been going pretty great, you’ve even got some leads on how to bring back Johnny, stop being such a depressed gonk,” V muttered to himself. He took a long drag of his cigarette, now pressing the cigarette against his arm to put it out. Then he grabbed the bottle of whiskey leaning back in the lounger, taking a sip of the drink… before just closing his eyes. The rain kept falling from the sky, and at this point V was soaking wet, but he didn’t care, he loved the rain. He took this time to just think about everything, and why he had been so down lately. A few hours passed, which had only seemed like a few minutes to V.. but he had slowly started realizing why he had been feeling the way he had been. Just 2 months ago Kerry had all the time in the world to hang out with him but ever since Kerry had started making music with the Us Cracks and working on his new album they had started hanging out less. “Oh I can’t be upset with that, he’s happy, and that’s all that matters,” he spoke to himself, now softly sighing, before thinking about it more. I keep waking up to nothing. I used to wake up with Kerry right next to me, all snuggled up, but now I wake up in the morning and he’s already up, already doing something else. He’s often busy now as well, we rarely talk. Lately, I’ve only seen him in the morning playing guitar on the couch or at dinner. Working towards finding a cure has also made it hard to see or talk to him but I’ve been trying to make time. But it seems every time I am able to get some time off to just hang out with him, he’s busy. I just want things to work out in the end… but I don’t even know if Kerry has noticed that I’ve been getting worse. I can barely eat, feel sick every time I try to, and I’m getting weaker by the day. I’ve been having more frequent seizures, and barely can recover from them…

Vincent had got so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t even realize that he had started crying, or that Johnny had appeared next to him. “Ay, kiddo I promise you things are going to work out, even if I have to get wiped,” Johnny stated as he looked down at V. “I’m not letting that fucking happen Johnny, and you know that, and you know how bad things have been getting…,” he now looked up at Johnny, “I just need you to promise me something okay fuckface?”

“Alright kiddo, have no idea what you need me to promise you, but I promise,” Johnny laughed softly, sitting down on the side of the lounge chair. “If I don’t wake up one morning and you wake up in my body… I want you to take care of Kerry for me, help him get over my death..” V looked off to the side before looking back at Johnny, “Just be there for him, make him happy… got it..?” He now closed his eyes again, yawning.

Johnny sat in silence for a moment before speaking, “Alright, got it.” Johnny said softly, running his hand through V’s hair. “I just wish we both could live, that’s all I want Johnny, for us to live and both be happy,” V stated softly, before drifting off to sleep.

[slaingelo]

for your apocalypse au, have you thought about what started it, or what type of zombies it is? i absolutely love zombie media, like i go insane for zombies shows/movies/books, so this au is v interesting

YEAH !!!!

i'll be talking about viruses here n shtuff specifically rabies a lot so anyone who's squicked out by that feel free to skip this post.

so if you're like, into the scientific analysis of "how could something cause this IRL" with zombies you probably know that it very frequently goes back to rabies, if not mushrooms/parasites, being the closest real world comparison !! so like first i'm going to dive into rabies because my zombies here are directly based on it.

first off right off the bat. rabies, in real life, does not make humans turn into feral monsters.

I'm going into writing this with the assumption that Someone reading this might not be familiar with rabies, so anon if you're reading this and you already know a lot about rabies I'm sorry !! you activated the AUTISM and I'm goin ham, take most of this to be directed at anyone else who's reading. i might have a few of my facts mixed or jumbled as well because I'm relying on memory for all of this so take it with a grain of salt !!!

SO;

the reason animals become so violent is generally more so due to the confusion and fear rabies causes. while some humans need to be tied down, it's generally for their own safety or so they don't hit anyone. hit, not bite. sometimes they flail around. it's very rare for rabies to transfer between humans because humans don't have a reason to bite- if scared, flailing/hitting/scratching is more natural to us, and rabies is only transferred through saliva.

as an important note to how the zombie virus in my story works, its important to understand that rabies travels through the nervous system; not the blood. before symptoms appear, it's in a rest period. once symptoms appear, even just a mild headache, it is too late. [don't take this to be fear mongering lmao. just like, don't handle wild animals if you're not trained to and if you think you've been bit by anything go get your post-exposure rabies shot.]

so !! the virus in my au is a direct evolution of the rabies virus. the zombies because of this technically aren't even zombies, since they're not dead; but they're basically just hosts to the virus. their consciousness deteriorates so much that there's no Them in there anymore really.

this is where it kinda slightly leans into a slight idea of parasite-y shit even if it's not a parasite; if the host dies, the virus can't spread anymore, so unlike real world rabies that ends in death Quickly, this one wracks the body's system much slower. while this means there's more time to find some way to be saved depending on your circumstances, it also means if you don't, it's going to be worse for you. you'll be terribly sick and then just... gone to the most animalistic instincts that were locked away in your head [attack anything that moves, eat eat eat eat-]

and on that note ! one of the biggest issues if you think too hard about it with rabies -> zombies is that you can't really swallow when rabies takes hold. hydrophobia develops, and the brain starts to fuck up on muscle control and movements. so yeah this is kinda just getting cut out for the evolved version here, let's say this smarter virus evolved to Not do that so the host survives longer via being able to still eat. hydrophobia remains because I said so, though probably more so in the way that they can't swim and would just sink to the bottom of any body of water- so the virus just makes them stay away from it.

ANYWAYS.!!!! yeah the virus moving slowly through the body is how Blue survives, Green cut off his arm while all the virus was still In It. Obviously this won't work if you get bit somewhere worse, but most bites would probably be in the arm anyways. you'd also kinda need a trustworthy companion because chances are you'll be out of commission for a bit and likely infected with some other bullshit because hey !!! shit ain't aseptic out here !! Green was able to find some antibiotics that helped, but Blue wasn't doing too hot for a bit there. it's a very risky idea but it worked out for them...

AS FOR HOW IT ALL STARTED I haven't though about that too much honestly. mostly because all the characters are just- normal people. they had no involvement with whatever happened, but i thought up a few ideas since there surely would've been Some news reporting, and my favourite one;

natural evolution of the rabies virus. suddenly, even though it was supposed to be gone from the area, reports of rabid animals were showing up again- and now, lots more people too. it seems like the post exposure vaccine isn't helping anymore...

some other ideas i had that i was less fond of but might as well put out;

a cliche "someone was fucking around and finding out about creating a bioweapon out of rabies and it Went Terribly Wrong, who'da thunk!"

i think it's been done in some movie idk i don't watch many zombie movies, where it was specifically rabies that a human caught that they then intentionally spread to other humans and it got stronger with direct spreading to more human hosts or something idk

i think i had more ideas but like idk this is what i could remember HGJDSGHDSH anyways i hope that's a pretty clear answer, kinda went a bit off topic now and then i kinda wanted an excuse to info dump about rabies. for the ppl who were saying it sounded like an interesting interest when i mentioned it before here you go. i need to make a nuclear apocalypse au......

[d34dpulse]

Why I think Katsuki has BPD

(As a katsuki kinnie with BPD)

Disclaimers:

I'm not saying he definitively has it, just that I headcanon him to have it.

I'm also not a licensed professional or even educated on this topic, I just have it myself and am loosely going off how the symptoms are defined in the DSM V.

BPD is a disorder that can only be diagnosed when someone is 18 or older. Currently, Katsuki is 17, nearly 18, and a requirement of BPD is for the symptoms to be present since the age of 15 (how old Katsuki is at the start of BNHA) so I'm still gonna make this anyways lol.

Manga screenshots are backwards (ie p22 on the left p23 on the right)

This not only includes things from BNHA but also the movies and BNHA Team Up Missions

1) Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, recurrent physical fights).

Do I even need to give proof for this one? Katsuki's temper and habit of getting into fights is a defining trait of his character and has been throughout the entire series.

2) Transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms.

Paranoid ideation is characterized by someone having a persistent suspicion and distrust of people around them. People experiencing paranoid ideation might believe that others are trying to harm them or treat them unfairly, even when there's no evidence to support this. While Katsuki exhibits this towards ALOT of people, especally if he intimidated by them, Deku is the one he exhibits it most to.

The reason Katsuki bullied Deku is because he believed it to be mutual. He felt an inferiority to Deku, depite the fact that he was quirkless, and began to develop an inferiority complex, but also a superiority complex, only focusing on Deku’s flaws as a way to cope with that inferiority complex.

He believed that Deku was being condescending towards him and was trying to goad him into losing his temper, angering him more since it felt like Deku knew he was better than him. Later he believes he’s been pretending to not have a quirk so he could purposely embarrass him in UA, believing that he’s finding sadistic enjoyment in Katsuki’s difficulty adjusting to UA and confusion over his quirk and their relationship. That deku was manipulating Katsuki to believe he didn’t have a quirk for 10 years, and he never realised.

Katsuki also prefers to act alone because he hates the idea of being protected or having to rely on other people to assist him. He's got better as the series has progressed and he's gotten to know his classmates, acknowledging the importance of working with others every now and then but he still prefers to be the leader of said group, protecting them from harm while expecting them to do the same for him in return.

3) Identity disturbance: markedly and persistently unstable self-image or sense of self.

Katsuki looks up to All Might and has aspired to be like him ever since he was a child, but outside of that he doesnt really have any sense of who he is or what he wants to be. This is best shown when he notices how close All Might and Deku are and this one assumption makes him question the thing hes been so passionately working for, for years.

On top of this has both a superiority complex as well as an inferiority complex and seems to gauge his identity based of the people around him. He often avoids thinking about himself and instead focuses on the people around him (i.e. "instead of thinking about how good or bad I am at this thing, I'll think about how good or bad this person is".)

An example of this is how Katsuki would try to believe that Deku was nothing because he didn't want to accept that he wasn't living up to his unreasonably high expectations of himself. Being forced to confront this at UA was what caused his superiority/inferiority complex to get worse.

4) A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation.

Black-And-White thinking is the simplest phase to use for this and an opinion about a person can go from "white" to "black" over barely anything. Again, Izuku is a perfect example of this. Katsuki and Izuku where best friends as kids but after his quirk didn't form and the infamous lake scene happened, he misinterpreted Deku's care as condescension and it turned into genuine hatred that lasted years.

Then after years of hatred, he has one "conversation" with him, talking things out, and they become best friends again, so much so that he risks his life on multiple occasions trying to protect him. Katsuki even risks his own health seeing if Izuku is okay when he breaks his arms. Risking his health to protect Izuku eventually gets to the point where he ends up killing himself in the war arc to do so. Even when he gets brought back to life, awakened from his coma, he risks his health to see if Izuku is okay.

In the latest chapter he's the only 1-A (Now 2-A) classmate that visits him in the hospital. When he finds out he'll never fully recover from his injuries and has potentially permanently lost an arm, he's more annoyed if anything, but when he finds out Izuku's lost his quirk, he breaks down crying, again blaming himself for Deku's injuries. All of this even though, only a few months ago, he hated his guts.

5) Affective instability due to a marked reactivity of mood (e.g., intense episodic dysphoria, irritability or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days).

Affective instability is defined as repeated, rapid, and abrupt shifts in mood and while Katsuki has always been very emotionally driven, this is more accurate to Katsuki post kidnapping arc and especially him post war arc.

An example is in his fight with Deku, after All Mights near death, his mood rapidly shifts from non-verbal annoyance, to angry name calling to tearful venting throughout the entire fight, with Izuku's efforts to calm him down seemingly making him more erratic.

Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment.

As mentioned in the previous page, Katsuki got insecure and jealous of Izuku because All Might was paying attention to Deku's progress and "wasn't paying attention" to Katsuki's progress. This actually gets called out by All Might himself in chapter 62. He tries to get rid of Deku and frantically tries to beat All Might on his own to get back his approval, confusing Izuku and All Might who don't understand why he's so upset.

Impulsivity in areas that are potentially self-damaging.

Katsuki is extremely impulsive and gets the "consequences" for it all the time. I'll use getting into dangerous fights as an example.

In the World Heroes' Mission movie, Katsuki fights the Serpenters Twins, Ena and Dio. Katsuki fights them on his own and ends up getting mercilessly shredded apart. Even though he won in the end, he was injured to an insane amount. His entire body is torn apart and he's bleeding out of one of his eyes, but he only cares about how he won.

Recurrent suicidal behaviour, gestures or threats, or self-mutilating behaviour.

Katsuki throws himself into danger, not caring about how much he hurt so maybe you can call that recurrent suicidal behaviour? However, I'd rather focus on something else. This is something I don't really see people talk about much but Katsuki "trains" when he's stressed out. While it's not talked about much, excessively working out can be considered NSSI aka Nonsuicidal Self-Injury and while not suicidal, it's still self harm and considered self-mutilating behaviour.

The following aren't symptoms of BPD but are still relevant.

Difficulty managing/talking about/explaining emotions and struggles

Most people with BPD struggle to vocalise and put into words what's upsetting them and even may not understand what is making them feel like that, especially men since the fear of venting could be greater than a woman's due to societies expectations of men and vulnerability.

Small friend circles/habit of isolation

Due to difficulties socially, many people with BPD will fixate on certain people and ignore others, sometimes even isolating themselves completely. While this was sort of hinted before the kidnapping arc (Katsuki being rude to every one other that Ejiro and maybe Denki and only paying attention to them, Izuku and Shoto.) afterwards, he moved in with the other 1-A classmates and all of them reiterate on multiple occasions that theyre worried about how Katsuki never leaves his room.

Yeah, sure, you could chock this up to the fact that he's coping with the trauma of getting kidnapped and watching his idol "die" days before, but even after he "gets over" that, he's still as quiet as introverted as before

Maybe even more so, since after he and Izuku became friends, he would stay with him and would rarely be seen with other characters without Izuku also being there.

Questionable Childhood

Its made very clear in the series that Katsuki and his mother are very similar an he treats the people around him the same way his mother treats him. Aka, Katsuki was abused as a child by his mother and abuses others because he doesn't understand that his mother is abusive and not just angry at him.

This environment growing up is why he acts the way he does (at least personality wise) and while his mother very obviously cares about him (post war arc is proof of that), she doesn't hesitate to hit him, berate him and victim-blame him, even in front of his teachers.

Also in chapter 165, when trying to teach children to help get his license, Katsuki recommends beating the kids and accidentally confesses to the team that happened to him as a kid and it must fine because of the "My parents did that to me and I turned out fine." mentality he has.

While this is proof that she treats him like this normally, its also completely possible that his home life could be even worse than what's been shown to us, especially because he seemingly doesn't know what happened to him was wrong.

BPD is a disorder that is formed due the environment someone grows up in and in up to 90% of BPD cases, the source is associated with abuse. You're also more likely to get a diagnosis of BPD if someone in your close family has it. This suggests that even if she isn't being abusive towards him, his similarity to her could be that he inherited a personality disorder she has.

Another thing to add to this point is that bullying is also a cause of BPD and while most people don't talk about it, Katsuki used to get picked on by classmates and older kids because of his quirk.

PTSD/C-PTSD

This might sound weird at first but hear me out! Katsuki has PTSD/C-PTSD from the sludge monster incident and his home life (pre 15). Post 15, he also has trauma from being kidnapped and witnessing the near death of his idol (which he blames himself for). This all makes sense if he has BPD, because not only is BPD usually caused by trauma (like PTSD) but a study showed that Borderline personality disorder and complex post-traumatic stress disorder are commonly found together, with between 25% and 60% of people with BPD also have C-PTSD.

Self-blame

When someone close to Katsuki gets hurt or when something he's involved in goes wrong, his first instinct is to blame himself. He blames himself for the sludge monster incident, he blames himself for being kidnapped by the LOV, he blames himself for All Might's near death, he blames himself for Deku being quirkless. All of this when in all these situations, he was innocent or worse, the victim.

Even when it comes to his upbringing, when he finds out Shoto got beat as a kid, he gets worried about him and asks if he's okay, but when he talks about him getting beat as a kid and shoto shows the same concern, he immediately dismisses it because he "turned out fine".

Self blame is very common for people with BPD. It’s usually used as a defence mechanism and is a common response to having a traumatic experience. This is especially true even when the traumatic event occurs through no fault of the victim, as it allows them to feel that they have control over everything that happens to them.

Self-blame can grow into low self-esteem and even self-hate, which could be the case because of how much Katsuki has been apologizing to Izuku in recent chapters and how much he feels in debt to him because of how badly he treated him. It's understandable since he bullied him for a reason he now understands was wrong, but even then it was all over a misunderstanding and he did his best to make it up to him afterwards.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Hello! Hope you don't mind the random ask 🥺 You said after the newest episode that Mushitarou is one of your favorite BSD characters; could you talk a little about your thoughts on him/why you love him/his arc? He's one of my favorites too, and it makes me so so sad how underrated he is, because imo he's one of the most well-written and tragic characters in the entire series, despite how little screentime (pagetime?) he gets :' ) I wish more people would talk about him. Really hope that changes after the next episode 💚

I honestly almost screamed when I got this ask YES I CAN TALK ABOUT MUSHITARO. I CAN TALK ABOUT HIM ALL DAY.

Ok well first of all he is the poor little meow meow. Pathetic scrunkly man. I'm sorry but you can't deny that it's true. Even in-universe, it's like he's the BSD world's chew toy. He keeps getting kidnapped by different organizations with like. No breathing room in between. Give him a BREAK. Funnily enough, I enjoy and usually like to poke fun at these kinds of characters, but they're not typically my favourites. Mushitaro is, by far, an exception to my usual favourite character types.

Second, I am a lover of bittersweet tragic storylines. Yeah. Honestly, the way the storyline built to the slow reveal - I knew immediately after Poe mentioned the water droplets that they were his tears, and I was starting to suspect what was really going on, but the way it was unraveled was so, so painful and beautifully done. Even knowing it was coming today when I watched the episode, it still hurt.

Thirdly, Mushitaro's circumstances raise some intriguing questions we still don't have answered. He was captured by the Seventh Agency and made to work for them with his ability - he considers them a worse alternative to Dostoevsky and refers to them as tyrants. (We also know of another shadowy organization that takes on ability users with useful skills for nefarious purposes, V. V also somehow managed to not be discovered by either the government or Ranpo in 13 years. I'm not saying there's a connection there but... but... there might be. 👀) Anyways, point is, there's stuff goin' on there. And I wanna know. (Also I like the motivation parallels with Ango very much.)

But most of all, I fully agree with you - he is very well-written. What I love most about his character is actually the way his narrative showcases what I believe to be some of the series' character writing's biggest strengths - to excellent (and heartbreaking) effect.

Characters are often revealed to be quite different than what their initial introductions would suggest. Later revelations serve to recontextualize earlier character cues - these early cues are often misleading but not outright lies.

To be clear, this isn't a hard or particularly unique thing in character writing - in fact, this is... kind of a minimum requirement. Your audience should be able to go back after the fact and notice new things about characters that you only get on re-read. But I find BSD is interesting for this because these initial impressions don't frequently tell you what these characters actually value - the "establishing moments" are often incredibly misleading. Mushitaro is an excellent example of this.

The best part of the perfect murder arc is the way it slowly unravels piece by piece - and as it unravels, more and more, we get to see the real Mushitaro. He starts off with these terrifying facial expressions, bragging and boasting about how he is the "detective killer" and how none stand in his way, cackling like a shallow cartoon villain. There's not much there to suggest a deeper character. Then there's the first flash to Yokomizo's murder, and Mushitaro appears to revel in it and the idea that he can't be caught. Another flashback shows him making these arrogant demands of a literal terrorist, like all his tableware being silver and porcelain and having access to a library of occult books for his study. Ok dude. This all paints the picture of a selfish individual, primarily concerned with expensive things and money and image - all things that perfectly fit Ranpo's initial conjecture as to the kind of person behind the Kindaichi murder. And just like Ranpo later says, it's a little too perfect.

The reveal builds slowly but surely, and Mushitaro's built-up image as a dramatic, remorseless murderer crumbles. Because he didn't kill out of hatred at all. He killed Yokomizo because Yokomizo asked him to do so. Because this, and the legacy of a mystery that transcended fiction into reality, was his only friend's dying wish. It was enough for Mushitaro to delay his escape just to fulfill it - what Ranpo refers to as a kind of willing self-destruction.

What Mushitaro ultimately values then is honouring the wishes of those he cares about and repaying those he owes. He will take the secret of Yokomizo's ultimate mystery to his grave. He used what he likely thought were his last moments alive to grab the transceiver and warn Ranpo about the danger the Agency was in. He only decided to trust Ango after Ango admitted his use of the Seventh Agency was to honour Oda's memory and wishes.

So, going back and re-reading his intro again, it becomes more clear that he was suffering from a kind of cognitive dissonance. "But wasn't he just playing the role he was supposed to?" No. He wasn't. The first flashback to Yokomizo's murder is much more violent and ends with Mushitaro cackling and going into a full villain monologue when there is no one else around but him. There's no one to perform this role for - except Mushitaro himself.

Both the killing and the ensuing grief stemmed from the exact same source - Mushitaro loved his friend deeply. But there is, I believe, no small amount of bitterness too, for the way they argued frequently, and the way his friend asked this of him. It's practically irreconcilable in his mind, and so Mushitaro leans into his role as the evil perpetrator who hated Yokomizo to such a degree that I honestly think he started to believe it - Mushitaro, with two narratives in his mind running parallel to each other that are fundamentally conflicting, tried to make a monster of himself. Insisted on being the monster, at least until Ranpo made it impossible for him to deny the true motive behind his actions - protecting his friend's last wish.

Fittingly for the climactic reveal of a mystery storyline that blurs fiction and reality, Mushitaro's real-life grief was his perfect fictional role's undoing.

Is he boastful? Arrogant? A bit of a coward? Absolutely. But Mushitaro is no monstrous villain - he is a man unable to confront his grief over his friend's death, and who, ultimately, doesn't intend any real harm.

Because other than Yokomizo, revealed as an agreed upon assisted suicide - Mushitaro never murdered anyone.

2. Characters are not cured of their pain and trauma. They continue to struggle with it during their development and it actively impacts the way they view and interact with the world around them.

Mushitaro's story is heavily themed around grief and his consistent denial of it's effects on him. At first, he denies by embodying the role Yokomizo wanted him to play - it seems to the point where he legitimately started to lose it. He's slipping when we first meet him. In a weird way, for as much as Ranpo tore his perfect crime apart... I feel like he also saved him, in a sense. The dissonance he was experiencing likely only would've gotten worse if he had not been forced to speak the truth aloud.

After that point... the denial focuses solely on the idea that Mushitaro doesn't miss Yokomizo at all. That he's doing just fine and Yokomizo should be jealous (he's far from fine; he doesn't even see a point in going outside anymore now that he won't be able to see his friend) and that he hated him (he doesn't. he never did. but he has to. he can't deal with it.).

Another thing I really like about his arc is that Mushitaro's grief also clearly stems from the entire thing being traumatic for him - but neither Yokomizo nor Mushitaro are demonized or victimized for this; rather the situation is just shown as it is. It's nice, that the story allows the reader/viewer to draw their own judgements. Both had their reasons for their actions - Yokomizo was already dying and wanted to go out in a way that was meaningful to him, while Mushitaro chose to fulfill this wish in spite of the cost to him. They both mutually self-destructed, in a way.

The narrative doesn't frame either as the villain. It doesn't fully frame either in victimhood either. It's a tragedy all the same.

Mushitaro continues to see and hear Yokomizo wherever he goes, not because he can't get rid of him... but because he never wanted him to be gone in the first place. Stabbing me would hurt less I think. :/

3. Characters often grow and change before they consciously realize it or have any sort of "epiphany".

This ties in a lot with the ongoing theme of uncertainty, and I above all really like this aspect of the series. BSD has characters grow and change and try to be better, do better by themselves and others... without being sure of the outcome. Sometimes before they're ready to consciously admit a change is necessary. There are few epiphanies. The characters are forced to slog through hardship and only then suddenly realize how far they've come - for better or for worse.

Mushitaro does change, even in the short span of time he is a focus character. I love the first little signs of it too - Mushitaro, who doesn't even like mystery novels, uses a trick Yokomizo told him about to help himself, Atsushi and Kyouka escape. Look at him :')

Afterwards, he starts to wonder if he can see Yokomizo whenever he enters a locked room - as in, if connecting to the memory of his friend through what he loved in life will mean that he keeps that memory alive.

And as annoyed as he is with Poe's attempts to get him to write a mystery... a part of him is happy to be around people that he could start to consider his friends. Enough that the Yokomizo he hallucinates wonders if maybe he doesn't need him there anymore. And finally Mushitaro bursts.

But this is actually good. He's finally past that denial phase, the part that had him talking about hate when really he missed him all along. Thing is, he'd already been developing and changing by this point, in that he needed the growth to come to terms with this truth, and it was not the truth that drove the growth.

In a sense, Mushitaro working through his grief and uncertainty led him to a brighter outcome, one where he has more friends and can start anew. He lost the closest person in his life. But his arc continuously asserts that in spite of the fact that he will always miss his friend, Mushitaro himself is still alive. And he should live that life - both moving forward and keeping the memory of his friend with him.

Odasaku believed that writing a novel was to write people. Poe was so insistent on getting him to write because it's a way of seeing the people we want to see anytime we want.

What a beautiful character arc, that began with fiction as an escape from real-life pain, and concluded with fiction as a means to work through it and with it instead.

Plus he's just such a funky little dude.

I. Love. Mushitaro.

[thegreatidk]

Are you dumb? They cast accurate Lucy Gray because she hadn't already been cast by a blonde Woody Harrelson. We aren't getting "book accurate" Haymitch - not that most of you know what that means, because you're certain that the entire 12th district is POC, when the book never states that. They could cast a Greek or Italian and still be "book accurate," because that's what olive skin actually fucking means.

First of all Wikipedia disagrees with your definition of the scope olive skin https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Olive_skin . It’s a skin type that can be had by all ethnicities but is (and this is a direct Wikipedia quote) “frequent among populations from the Mediterranean region, Southern Europe, the Near East and West Asia, parts of the Americas, East Asia and Central Asia” And that’s only type III olive skin, type IV and V are found only the the Mediterranean, South Asia, Sub-Sahara Africa and Latin America. Also nowhere did I say that all of District 12 is POC, but given the context clues it is quite probable that the many are. But whether they are or aren’t doesn’t detract from the fact that Haymitch in the books is very obviously described as “Seam” with dark hair and olive coloring, so in no way blond. And this is important to the story because being “Seam” is an important class distinction in district 12. They are much worse fed, much more likely to end up in the Hunger Games hence the improbability of Haymitch winning. This also relates to how forcefully the Capitol responded since how dare the lowest of the low get one over them. All of this would be diluted with a blond Haymitch given the worldbuilding. Of course I know that Lionsgate mostly wants money and so will likely pander to movie fans, but I don’t see anything wrong with pointing out the fact that they could do better, and wanting other fans to recognize the same. Certainly nothing that would elicit a response as aggressive as yours

[sekaithemystic]

run away with me [chapter 1]

or as known as the songv roadtrip fic that was supposed to be a oneshot but my hands slipped and now it's going to be insane

ao3 link

It had been a crazy idea. Let's drive across the country to New York! But then V realized she wouldn't mind spending the last few months of her life visiting that forgotten part of So Mi, and So Mi started talking about places she used to frequent, then before any of them could have a second thought, they were already three hundred miles away from Night City.

The room was as cramped as V expected, but she still couldn't help a sigh from escaping her lips. At least the bed looked decent, and she immediately threw herself upon it, unconcerned about everything else. 

Well, maybe one thing—one person, more specifically.

“Jeez, here I thought I was tired.” So Mi put their backpack against the wall, and V didn't have to flop on her back to know she was wearing that teasing smile that never failed to make her heart race. 

“Have 'ever driven this far,” the mercenary replied, finally finding the strength to sit up. Song came to settle down on the foot of the bed, so she scooted lower until their shoulders bumped against each other. “And you kept pointing the wrong way.”

“How am I supposed to know that they hadn't updated the map of this area for years?” So Mi jabbed her elbow at V's side, and the younger woman cackled, hands moving to defend herself from the upcoming assault.

It had been a crazy idea. Let's drive across the country to New York! But then V realized she wouldn't mind spending the last few months of her life visiting that forgotten part of So Mi, and So Mi started talking about places she used to frequent, then before any of them could have a second thought, they were already three hundred miles away from Night City.

So here they were, sprawling across the bed in a motel out of nowhere, tired and dust-covered after a long day on the road.

“Come on, let’s take a shower before you fall asleep.” So Mi pulled her up by the arms, metal fingers curling around her wrist. V grumbled in protest but followed her nonetheless. The bathroom was, surprisingly, clean and neatly organized, not like there was much to begin with. The mercenary went for the water tap and twisted it counterclockwise until her grip was met with resistance. It was rather cold for an evening bath, but whatever, she supposed, before turning around to face So Mi.

A naked So Mi, more specifically.

She had shed the Samurai t-shirt she hastily took from V’s wardrobe before they left, leaving her bare skin on display, even though V doubted much of it was actual skin anyway. The last thought was drowned away by a wave of embarrassment and self-consciousness on the fact that this was the first time she saw the netrunner unclothed, and as if to make the matter worse, she was staring at the woman quite impolitely.

Um. Shit. Fuck.

In a rather clumsy attempt to hide the rising heat on her cheeks, she pinned her gaze on the tiled floor, one hand covering her burning face. Above her, a laugh rang out, so full of teasing that it only intensified whatever emotion she was feeling right now. Right, she was a full-fledged, soon-to-be 24 years old, who had been through enough shits to be called a legend in Night City, and she was also blushing like a maiden.

“Full of surprise, aren’t you?” said the reason V couldn’t even look up, the echo of her chuckles lingering by her reddened ears. “Come on, what’s there to be so embarrassed about? I’m sure you have had your own fair share of experience before.”

Song wasn’t wrong about that, but it was not like she could mutter back a response when she was still too busy to calm her racing heart down. She didn't understand why she was acting like this, either; but before any more questions could take place, So Mi's hands came to rest on her waist, urging her to undress as well. Mindlessly, with her head bowed, she complied, fingers sluggishly popping button after button of her drenched shirt, revealing the sports bra under. V could feel Song's gaze lingering on her exposed skin, admiring the well-defined muscles and hard edges, and goosebumps broke out on her arms, a chill threatening to rush down her spine. Her hands moved up to push the fabric away and smooth over her shoulders, toying with the cotton straps. Those mechanical fingers that were meant to type on the keyboard endlessly did a wonderful job of evoking nerve-wracking sensations inside her, and had her brain been a computer, it would have been fried long ago. Her arms suddenly wrapped around V's neck, forcing her to look So Mi in the eyes.

“You are beautiful.” Words left her mouth even before she could comprehend it. So many times, and the woman had always left her starstruck by her beauty like in their very first meeting. Could it be possible to fall in love with the same person over and over again?

“I know,” So Mi answered with a raised eyebrow as if it was obvious for V to be smitten. “But that bath is calling to us, so take those pants off, V.”

Reluctantly tearing herself away from the warm embrace, the younger woman unbuckled her belt, pulling both her jeans and underwear down until they pooled around her ankles. The tub managed to fit both of them, somehow, not that V complained. She still found it rather awkward to look at So Mi, instead opting for a blank spot on the wall. For a good moment, there was no sound, save for running water and the hum of the air conditioner. The peacefulness overwhelmed her senses, to the point she almost forgot that she would die, soon.

Yes, she had six months left, six months before her body failed and dragged her to the grave. The selfish part of her demanded an explanation on why she was wasting her time out here, trying to please someone whom she had to sacrifice her own chance of living for, but the selfless one—the stupid one really, found it rather comforting that she was able to show kindness, even when the world was ending for her. Then it led to another question: should she break the news to So Mi?

“What’s on your mind?” Brown eyes met hers in the dim light of the bathroom, full of worry and concern, and V knew the woman would only blame herself if she got a grasp on her situation. She had just escaped years of burdens, years of guilt; there was no way V could do this to her.

Or at least, the “good” part of her advised so.

“Just… thinking.” V swiped her hair back, feeling water trickling down the back of her neck. “A lot’s been happening and I haven’t had time to actually sit down and think about them, suppose.” Especially the part where I am dying and I’m not sure how to deal with that.

“You want to talk about it?” The offer was sincere, even without So Mi’s consciousness lingering inside her. How much should she talk without being too tightlipped or oversharing?

“Johnny and I, we parted on bad terms.” Bad terms was an understatement—she couldn’t recall their last talk without remembering that one last disgusted look he threw at her. More than just disgust, anger, disappointment, and betrayal were burning in his eyes, all at the same time. “I’m not sure how to deal with the knowledge that I failed him.”

“Because you trusted Arasaka?” inquired So Mi, and she nodded solemnly. “There are always strings attached when you run with corporations, we both know that,” V winced at the absolute fact that she knew but ignored all the time, “but in the end, it comes back to you: how do you feel about your choice?”

Like shit, she was tempted to answer so; however, she thought back to her options, of how most of those would have her putting her friends and acquaintances in danger. What were the chances that Panam couldn’t walk out of Arasaka Tower alive? Or Rogue? Or herself? 

Or that one person she had promised to protect with her whole life, a long time ago?

“I think I chose right,” V admitted with a sigh. So Mi smiled then, fingers twirling a strand of her pink hair; it had grown longer since the last time they saw each other.

“There you have it.” She reached over to lay her hand on the younger woman’s shoulder. “Right doesn’t always feel good, but at least it’s your choice, not his, not a choice you made under his influence, either.”

But sometimes she wished he would have made that choice, instead of her. It was always easier to follow others than to follow her own way, or maybe she couldn’t escape her nature in the end.

The bath had turned cold by the time they left it, but something warm burned inside V’s chest; a tiny fire, made by So Mi, started its new life here and now, right at this moment.

.

“Turn that valve, and check if there is any soot inside.” Her father’s voice was rather static through the phone speaker, which shouldn’t have come as a surprise at all, considering how bad the signal was.

“Yeah, there is a little stuck in here,” replied V, stealing a glance at the pixelated image of the older man on the screen So Mi was holding. “Do I clean it?”

She dreaded the idea of their car breaking down in the middle of nowhere, but now that it came true, there wasn’t much she could do aside from hoping that her amateur mechanics skill would be enough to get them to the nearest garage. Her father turned to speak with someone else, likely one of his apprentices, before directing his attention back to her.

“Grab a napkin and use your finger. Something’s wrong with the fuel pipe probably, so this is just a temporary solution for now.” That made both of them wince; whatever happened with the car sounded critical and beyond their ability. Funny how defeated Night City’s rising mercenary and one of the world’s best netrunners were at doing such mundane work. “I should have taken a look at your vehicle by myself hadn’t my headache persisted. Told those kids they still had a lot to learn, and apparently I was right.” He huffed, and V could imagine those young mechanics sweating nervously while thinking of the upcoming berate.

“Well, it’s fine really. We’ll manage.” Even she didn’t believe her own words, but whatever to keep her father’s worry at bay. So Mi chimed in, a polite smile that would absolutely charm him plastering on her face.

“You already help us more than we can ask for.” It was impossible to read his expression with how bad the video quality was, but V assured herself that Song’s words probably had an effect on him somehow.

“Remember to call your mom later before you turn in for the night,” he reminded her, before hanging up, leaving both women heaving a sigh. 

“Here to hope that heaven will bestow a lifesaver upon us,” V grunted and So Mi cackled, handing her a dry towel to clean her oil-covered hands.

Twenty-three miles later, with the clock barely hit eleven in the morning, they spotted what must have been a dozen pickup trucks and cars heading their way. So Mi shifted nervously in her seat, and V couldn’t help but mirror her action. Best case, it was just a normal nomad group; worst case, the Raffen Shiv had decided that they were the latest target, and the obvious solution was to fight their way out.

But that symbol on the flying flag tugged at the back of her hazy mind, a familiarity she couldn’t place. Something started with A, a place that had accepted her to be one of them.

“Pan!” V leaned out of the window, screaming at the top of her lungs. Poor So Mi was probably startled by the sudden reaction, but she would apologize later; right now, her eyes were squinting to catch sight of that figure returning her gesture. Unsurprisingly, she heard a response, the sound almost lost in the wind and sand of the desert.

“V you bastard!” Panam laughed, or cursed, or whatsoever, and her car skidded to a stop right next to theirs. She looked the same as V last saw her, with even more energy than usual. “What the Hell are you doing out there? Thought you and your city girl ass would never set foot out here?” 

“Road trip,” the mercenary replied, motioning at So Mi awkwardly sitting next to her. “Panam, So Mi. So Mi, Panam, as known as the most natural asshole of Badlands.” 

“That’s no way to refer to a lady, you rat!” She swatted at her shoulder, though that grin didn’t look like it would disappear any time soon. “Come, we are setting up camp soon. You and your friend should join us.”

“Not gonna say no to that,” V chuckled, waving at Mitch approaching them, “especially since we need a good mechanic to take a look at my car.”

Later, when they were following the Aldecaldos across the desert, So Mi finally spoke up, her gaze setting firmly on the younger woman as if she couldn’t believe whatever just unfolded in front of her.

“Interesting friends you have.” V only laughed at that, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. “How did you end up being friends with a nomad group?” 

“Come on, I’ve done wilder things, and you never ask about them.” The pout elicited a smile from So Mi, who nudged at her teasingly in order to coax the story out of her, and it was not like she could deny the older woman if such a thing was possible in the first place. “I did what I’m best at: getting between family drama and, well, you know the rest.”

This time, it was So Mi who pouted at the vague answer; now that V had seen how cute she was, she felt like she should do this more often. Still, she offered an apologetic shrug, one hand scratching at her sweating nape.

“To be honest, a lot of my memories were jumbled as an effect of the Relic.” Her gaze softened at that, and V couldn’t help the sudden warmth rising in her chest. “So if you want the whole thing, it’s better to ask Panam, really.”

“So you had to go through it too.” A shiver.

“Not as bad as you.” She thought back to So Mi’s words in Dogtown. A snowflake lands on my glove. I can calculate its unique fractal structure, but what did my mom’s voice sound like? “It’s like, someone goes inside my home and puts everything in the wrong cabinets, instead of taking them away. And now I have to reorganize the whole thing.” If I can live until then.

“So listening to others should help you?” V twisted her lips in thoughts, before giving a firm nod.

“I guess? Only one way to find out.” Before she could return her full attention to driving, So Mi laid a hand on her arm, fingers curling around her wrist. Their eyes met, and she gulped, not sure what to expect at this moment.

“Just know that I’ll help you however I can, I promise.”