#the first one is the best one in my opinion....

[keferon]

Chapter 2 of Blurr storyline >:D

“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”

“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head is all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”

Part one

Holy shit I actually managed to finish it…..Oh. My god.

Under the cut⤵️

Is it stupid to miss someone who doesn't even exist?

Probably yes, but hey, Swerve already has several degrees, might as well get another one. A degree in Stupidity or something. Who cares?

For the first few days after waking up from his coma, he feels like he's going crazy. Everybody has realistic dreams, right? The ones where you can scrutinize every angle, memorize every face and smell and sound. The ones that make you lie still for a while after waking up, grasping at every thing you can. Trying to memorize everyone you meet, imprint them in your head.

Because apart from your mind, they don't exist anywhere else. So that's your only way to keep them.

It never works. Obviously. Details slip away. Impressions fade. Just a couple days, and you won't be able to recall anything but the main events from memory.

Wait, hell, not days. Cycles.

His life is a weird, pathetic, fantastical circus. Earth term. Heh. There are no circuses on Cybertron, haha!

But Swerve remembers. And the word circus, and the smell of asphalt, and rains that were made of water not acid. Remembers the English language. Can speak it fluently, even if you wake him up in the middle of the night.

Remembers his work schedule and remembers which company makes the best details. And Tailgate with his bright blue uniform and Wheeljack with his endless experiments and Swindle with his expensive coat and of course...yeah, no, don't think of Blurr, don't think of Blurr, don't. Don't.

He'd heard about it. Read about it, too. Mechs waking up from comas and doing wild things. Some forgot how to speak at all, some gained a new skill, some lived a whole life while they slept.

Articles tell Swerve, don't worry, what you've experienced isn't unique. The doctor tells Swerve that the same thing has happened to others before you, it will be okay, it will pass.

Swerve isn't sure he wants it to pass.

He's been in a coma for who knows how long. The medic said it was caused by an internal trauma that decided to suddenly get worse. One minute he's recharging , the next he's gone. Internal injuries are insidious.

So it turns out. One day he just disappeared from the world because he was busy slowly dying in his room and no one noticed until a thief tried to sneak in. The only one who came to him was a Mech who wanted to steal his stuff. Huh.

That feels revolting. Swerve liked to think he had enough friends. Or at least enough good connections. Enough those who should have noticed his absence, right?

Apparently not. His shifts at work were reassigned, his contacts never texted him first, his...

His small persona wasn't important enough for anyone to notice his disappearance.

Would his human coworkers notice? Would Tailgate have noticed? Or Jazz? Swindle?

Jazz would have noticed, he was always surprisingly attentive when it came to his friends. And he was friends with just about everybody.

Swindle would probably get upset about the money he'd lost.

It's amazing how much his brain-- wait, no, his processor. How much his processor could create to entertain him. It's a more elaborate world than the most complex series Swerve has ever known. And that scrap had forty-six seasons and fifteen encyclopedias!

People, Earth, a bunch of new languages and rules and all for the sake of the end being like, OOPS! ...it was all a dream. Hilarious. Worst plot twist ever. Swerve hates it when stories go in this direction even more than when they kill off their characters.

In his humble opinion, death is better than the revelation that none of the experiences made sense or had any value. In terms of writing scripts obviously. Haha.

He's busy roaming haphazardly through his own memory. He's looking, comparing, trying to find inconsistencies or things that don't make sense. All the stuff that usually gives away the fact that what happened was a dream.

Most of his memories are occupied by--No. Frag.

Don't think about Blurr, don't think about Blurr, don't think..

He's thinking about Blurr. A lot.

Blurr occupies a surprisingly important role in his comatose dreams.

In the time he spent just looking at him, you could hand-build an entire Mech. Maybe even three. Swerve remembers picking up every bit of merch he could reach with his paycheck. Watching hundreds of videos and buying every new themed drink even if it was a flavor he didn't like.

Then spent a surprising amount of time resenting Blurr for not living up to his fantasies.

Blurr's behavior hadn't helped either, of course, but now, looking back at the past himself Swerve thinks that.. Oh wow. You weren't just annoyed at him. You blamed him for ruining your beautiful fantasy. You were having so much fun entertaining yourself with thoughts of this marvelous image, and he came along and corrupted it. Poisoned the well you drank joy from.

But that's not quite true, Swerve thinks.

Blurr was more complicated than that. But exactly how, he'll never know. All he has are his memories, and those memories are cut short at the most interesting point.

Swerve knows this plot twist. The asshole character that no one loves at the last second turns out to not be what everyone thought, but it's too late.

Oh no, he's not an evil jerk, he's actually traumatized. Oh no, he wasn't bad, he was actually secretly helping everyone. You thought he was awful? Well now you're going to feel awful reading fanfics.

Serevus Spayne didn't actually betray the main character's dad, no no, he was in love with him! Bam. Drama.

Swerve isn't a big fan of this stuff. He likes his characters developed properly. But he can't deny the appeal of a character leaving behind a bunch of questions you thought you knew the answer to.

Uggh.

The doctor was wrong. These thoughts don't go away. These memories don't dull.

Swerve just boils in them, constantly getting stuck in his own head. Sometimes he puts English words into his speech and everyone looks at him strangely. Sometimes he reflexively says some inside joke and no one gets it and he's left standing there with an awkward smile. Because. Guys, you don't understand, if my coworkers were here they'd think it's hilarious. I promise, in my fantasy world, it's funny.

When he gets a job on one of the Autobot ships, he accepts it thinking it might be a good distraction from his thoughts.

When he happens to see Prowl with a tiny human on his shoulder in the corridor of that ship, he thinks he's lost his mind.

The whole thing. The whole load-bearing structure on which his picture of the world has been held suddenly gives a lurch. Living your life in a super realistic dream is wild, but meeting a character from your dream in real life??

Freaking cursed.

Jazz looks puzzled by his reaction, but all Swerve can think about are two things.

One, if Jazz is here, does that mean everything else was real, too???

Two - holy shit, Jazz is tiny.

It never occurred to him. But he didn't really know what size humans were. Well, sure, he could measure it in numbers. But he was among humans himself. And about the same size. He was generally even shorter than most of them.

If Jazz is so small, he can't imagine how tiny Tailgate would be. Or--

He can feel his spark freeze. In fact, he can almost hear the sound of a string breaking in his processor. Does that mean Blurr is real too? Real and just as tiny and currently dead? Because Swerve was there but was too convinced it was all just a dream to help?

He's going to get sick.

He needs to talk to Jazz right now.

____________

Swerve taps his fingers nervously on the countertop. Come on. You're good at talking. Talking is your greatest skill. All you have to do is tell someone else about your comatose hallucinations and hope they don't think you're crazy.

They're sitting at a table at the bar. More specifically Swerve and Prowl are sitting at the table, and Jazz is sitting right on the table. (God he's so small).

“So uh. I got injured a while back and...uh...well, it got worse, turned out important systems were affected and I kind of. I was in a coma. For a really long time.”

Jazz frowns

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

He speaks in a mildly wonky Common, Swerve notes to himself. He waves his servo a little too cheerfully in response.

“'Ay it's no big deal really. I saw a whole other world while I was asleep and like. See, I thought it was just my fantasies, but it seemed very real and...”

Swerve mentally crosses his fingers.

“And it was about this planet called Earth and about people who were building their own inanimate huge robots to fight huge aliens and their boss wanted to launch Mechs into space, so he picked the best of the pilots named Jazz and sent him on this test mission and...”

Jazz looks at him with huge eyes before switching to English in surprise.

“Mech, what the hell?”

“...And we lost him...” finishes Swerve with a sad smile.

Before thinking for a bit, and adding.

“I'm going to show you a trick I can do.”

And then projects his holoform onto the table in front of him.

This. It's weird. Not in a way that would tilt it in the direction of unnatural. More like walking around in his comfy indoor pajamas right in the middle of the street. Being human is familiar to him, but being human amongst huge Cybertronians? Strange. And a little creepy.

Prowl looks confused.

Jazz looks absolutely frantic.

“SWERVE????”

Swerve doesn't even manage to respond, only to smile in relief before Jazz rakes him into his arms. In his holoform, Jazz feels right again. He's taller than Swerve and oh boy, he's alive and unharmed. To think everyone thought he was dead, staying up nights trying to find what was left of him, and he was on the other side of the universe the whole time?

Swerve chuckles into Jazz's shoulder. Then picks him up and spins him around a couple times just because he needs something to get his energy out. Man, it's nice to hug people. Warm and soft, eight out of ten.

Jazz pulls away but still stays standing very close. Swerve can literally see the happy stars in his eyes.

“Dude, I'm not complaining but what...how???? You just kinda..."

Swerve laughs and twitches his eyebrows playfully.

“I still speak English, you don't have to torture yourself with Common.”

“Oh thank fuck.” Jazz throws his hands up dramatically “you're my favorite person right now.”

There is a polite click of the vocalizer resetting above their heads.

“I” Prowl says “very glad you two are happy but I'd like some explanation”

Swerve presses his head into his shoulders guiltily. Prowl has the unique ability to always sound like you've done something wrong in front of him.

Although Jazz doesn't seem to feel the same way?

“Short version - I sleepwalked my holoform to another planet.”

He pauses dramatically.

“The long version is...”

Jazz raises his hand

“What's a holoform?”

Swerve sighs.

“It's a holographic avatar that I can project using a holomatter generator. Sort of like a remote controlled game character.”

Jazz whistles impressed. And then immediately turns back to Prowl

“Have you been able to do that all this time too?“

Prowl hums

“I can create an avatar, but it takes a lot of practice to make it at least believable. And to fully perceive the world through it takes even more. It's a whole new technology. What Swerve does is essentially an art form. Sophisticated and impressively detailed may I add.”

Swerve shrugs shyly. He's still using the holoform to stand on the table next to Jazz. Looking up to speak to Prowl isn't exactly comfortable, but Jazz definitely looks like he's been missing the human presence. Swerve isn't human, but he might as well be.

“Thank you. Yes! Uh. Anyway, it seems while I was in a coma my processor projected my avatar onto Earth and I...let's just say I lived there for a while.”

Jazz laughs

“Dude. So you're telling me you were basically sleepwalking the whole time?”

“ I was.”

Prowl frowns.

“But the range limit of the holomatter generator is only four hundred miles...”

“.... I had a lot of practice...”

Jazz claps his hands.

“You learned a whole other language! Got an ID!. You had a job!!!”

“I got carried away,” Swerve admits.

Jazz scratches the back of his head, still looking very amused

“How many degrees did you get? Haha wait no, I have a better question, did you pass your driver's license?”

“Two. And I failed my driver's exam.”

“Dude you are literally a car without a driver's license!” collapses Jazz on the table with laughter.

Swerve blows the hair out of his face

“Says you who retook the physical several times. You couldn't pass the "being human" exam.”

Jazz just wheezes incoherently in response. Prowl looks alarmed.

“Don't worry, that's him getting excited. So...where have I been...”

Swerve nervously shoves his hands into his pockets

“...Do either of you two know where Earth is?”

Prowl twitches his door wings

“No. Since Jazz was teleported we don't have much clues.”

Swerve grimaces. Scrap. Of course nothing's going to be that easy. He's also been, like,....teleported.

He stands there for a couple minutes and just feels fifteen different emotions rise up in his head at once. A crooked, unsteady smile creeps across his face.

He's thinking.

Oh hell, yeah! I knew it wasn't a dream!

Then he remembers the mess he left behind.

Oh, no, it wasn't a dream.

Jazz puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Swer... Swerve? Dude, are you okay?”

“Ah frag..” Swerve says weakly ”it wasn't a dream.”

Jazz looks...puzzled.

“Is that bad?”

Swerve remembers his friends. Remembers the Mecha program. Remembers fire and smoke and screams and rumbling and crackling flames. Ashes flying through the air and the smell of burnt wires. He remembers blood and debris and...

“It's...complicated.”

This wasn't just a stupid plot twist he'd dreamed up because he'd watched too many shows. This wasn't a hallucination or a disembodied fantasy that just happened to linger in his head. This was real. His friends exist out there somewhere. His work and his collections and his little apartment...

And Blurr. Was real. Or still is? Swerve doesn't know. Blurr wasn't a product of his imagination. He was real and what he did was real and Swerve left him there alone, bleeding and trapped in rubble and tiny and...

Hahahahah oh fUCK.

He doesn't like this plot. It's too much. Too much to handle, too complicated, too ambiguous.

It's also probably too late.

But he can't leave it like this, right? Blurr went into the damn burning building just because of the possibility that there might be someone alive in there.

And Swerve doesn't even have to go through the flames. He has to look. He has to try at least.

Jazz glares at him with a worried look on his face

“ That expression you have...”

Swerve puts the smile back on his face.

“I need to get to Earth.”

___________________

Swerve is not an idiot.

Or maybe more accurately an idiot, but with several degrees.

He's well aware that finding Earth in space with only a description of it is impossible. Which leaves him with two options.

Ask the Quintessons. Or look for it himself.

The first sounds like death. The second like coma. Swerve has exquisite enough taste to know which is better.

He just needs to do some preliminary reserch.....

Jazz, now back inside his Mech looks doubtful.

“You're not going to die suddenly and for no reason, are you?”

Swerve laughs.

“Pfffff what, no of course not, would I kill myself hah. No no, look I'll just put myself in stasis for a bit. Send myself to Earth. And try to figure out where it is from there. Get the coordinates. If I'm lucky, I can see what Space Bridge the local Quintessons use. All you'll have to do is wake me up after a while.”

“It's not harmful?”

Swerve makes an uncertain gesture with his hand...servo.

“If I have enough fuel. And an additional connection to an external generator.”

Jazz tilts his head

“ Why are you so eager to get to Earth? Don't get me wrong, I miss it too and want to go back, but.”

Swerve bites his knuckles.

“ I have some unfinished business?”

“Pshhhh you sound like a ghost.”

Swerve only laughs in response.

_______________

Concentration is tricky.

Swerve tries to think about Earth. And not to think about the fact that he doesn't know where it is. If he's already been there once, he might as well go there again yes? In theory? Perhaps?

Except for the possibility that his sleepwalking just takes him to random planets. That would be very inconvenient. It would be a whole new level of lost

Shit. No. Earth. Think Earth.

What's he even gonna do when he gets there? How far away is it? Swerve is very talented with his holomatter generator, but if it's really far away... maybe he should reset some settings.

He mentally starts going through his options. Does he need tangibility? Probably not. Come to think of it, it would only make him more vulnerable and take a lot of energy. Yeah, the tangibility has to go. What else? Touch, too. Sight and hearing should stay, that's not even a question, but colors and textures are not really necessary.

The amount of detail and picture quality can be reduced as well. His holoform will become colorless and grainy and will probably ripple with static, but he'll survive it.

After he finishes making changes to his holoform he thinks about his old stuff left in his house. Then about the posters. Then reminds himself that he needs to focus on the goal or he'll never find Blurr and...oh FUCK his phone! Where was his phone when he disappeared? Was it found?? There were so many personal things on that phone, he's hoping the phone was burned under the rubble. Either that or the arriving investigators will find his browser history and he'll go into another coma from pure embarrassment.

He blinks dazedly when he realizes he has loads of rocks in front of his eyes. Oh..Did he screw up? Did he end up on the wrong planet? Is it a cave or--

Then he notices the odd shape of the “rocks” and. Oh, no. It's not a cave. It's charred concrete debris.

This is the place where he was last.

He hastily looks around. Anxiety creeps up the back of his neck, makes him feel like something slippery and cold is crawling over his skin. There is nothing but ruins all around.

Blurr is not here. The place where his Mech was lying is empty.

Which means he was at least found and dragged out. Dead or alive.

Swerve's bites his knuckles. Okay.

All right.

He's got things to do.

_______________

He's trying to stay out of sight. Which isn't hard, considering he's just a hologram. At first, he just sneaks around in the quiet areas. Then proceeds to do a facepalm and start teleporting. Think, Swerve. Did you read all those comic books for nothing? Superheroes who couldn't really use their superpowers creatively always annoyed him. And he does, in fact, have a superpower. Gotta get creative, right?

He stops and looks at himself again. His holoform is going static and is a dull white color. He thinks for a bit, and then shrinks himself. Thinks some more, and makes himself almost transparent. There's no way he could pass as a normal human right now, so he'd better just do his best to avoid being seen by anyone.

He looks around thoughtfully. Hmm. Even if he's going to be absolutely tiny, he needs to make sure no one sees him, otherwise the whole base will think the Quintessons are now spying on them through holograms or something.

Breaking the rules feels...it's exciting.

All his ..human life here he hadn't thought about it, but if he threw away the rules he was used to about what people could or couldn't do...

He looks up in a sudden rush of sly genius. All people look under their feet when they walk, but how many look up? And how many of them notice the barely visible tiny holoform hiding just behind the blinding lamps?

The answer is probably none.

Swerve projects himself onto the ceiling and mentally pats himself on the shoulder for his impressive intellectual accomplishments. A creativity degree should definitely be a thing.

A degree in spying on the Quintessons' ships wouldn't hurt him either.

Fortunately sneaking onto their ship turns out not to be that difficult. Swerve makes himself absurdly tiny and hides in the darkest corners that no one would ever think to look into. Why hasn't anyone thought of using holoforms for spying before? Could he be the first to think of it? He doesn't know, but he mentally decides to patent the idea.

Finding the Space Bridge is surprisingly easy. The local Quintesson fleet is clearly used to being the dominant force in space. And that's generally logical. Even if humanity collects a mountain of money from somewhere to throw a dozen Mechs into space - there will be thousands of monsters waiting for them. In such a situation, you don't have to hide, the guards are enough.

Well done, well done, don't hide, Swerve thinks, copying the coordinates and address of the space bridge to himself. You have absolutely nothing to fear here, he thinks, so stay where you are and don't move. Please and thank you.

Once the coordinates are obtained, he... has some freedom to explore. And he uses it for probably the most boring-sounding thing in the world. He returns to his usual workplace.

It’s simple. As damning as the Mecha program was, Swerve loved his job in it. He loved his position in the assembly shop. And he missed his friends.

He quickly teleports through several rooms, continuing to hide close to the lamps. Tailgate is here. Alive and unharmed. Wheeljack is too, though his face has some scars added to it. It's great to see them again, even if he can't talk to them right now. No one will probably react well to a grainy unexplainable hologram. He's just glad to know they're okay and honestly, the last thing he needs is paranoid Onslaught installing extra signal jammers.

It takes time to find Blurr. Partly because Swerve is terrified of what he might find if he started looking. So he goes to check the death lists first, and only after flipping through and re-reading them three times does he finally exhale in relief.

Blurr's name isn't there.

So his smug, shiny ass must be around here somewhere.

He checks the hangar. Flips through the Mech launch logs and feels an uncomfortable knot begin to form in his chest. Blurr's Mech has never been repaired or launched even once since the incident. Its plating has been replaced with new, well polished, and put in a prominent place where anyone who wants to can take a picture of it. But all the internal systems are destroyed. This machine hasn't been used for anything other than being a beautiful exhibit.

That's...something's wrong.

He checks offices and schedules as well as eavesdropping on a few conversations and ends up secretly following Swindle, who is arguing loudly with someone on the phone. He says something about deals and how he doesn't need anyone meddling in his business. Then he talks about how he's got everything under control and the person on the phone is “a dumbass who's making drama out of nothing” and that “he doesn't need anyone's handouts". Then he sighs and says, “you know how celebs are. Dumb and dramatic. You can't take their words literally.”

Then drops the call and for a couple seconds looks like he's just had a large bill taken right out of his hand. Curses again, but in a quieter voice. Leafs through his contacts and stops at the one signed 'free ice'.

“Blurr? Where are you? Wha...ah, no wait. No, the advertising agency called. No, liste...Can you shut up for one second?Where are you?

Uh-huh....... Uh-huh.Okay.

Give me half an hour...okay, yeah.”

This is it, Swerve thinks.

He shrinks himself further and teleports under the collar of Swindle's coat.

He wants to take a look. Just. Just a peek. Make sure everything's all right. Then he can go about his original mission in peace. He watches Swindle get in his car and drive off somewhere. Swerve doesn't recognize this part of town. The houses here are much nicer than where he lived. The streets are cleaner.

He tucks himself further under the coat collar. He's not going to be a stalker or anything, but he's worried and he doesn't have time to wait for Blurr himself to show up for work. Just one little look and that's it.

Swindle's car stops outside a beautiful, shiny hospital. Swerve nervously tries to bite his knuckles, but remembers he's disabled touch in his holoform. Shit? Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shi

Blurr looks like a mangled corpse.

Okay, not really. His left side that faces the door to the hospital room looks like a mangled corpse and that's the first thing that catches Swerve's eye when he's inside.

Blurr is pale and thin and his hands are covered in bandages. The left side of his face has been turned into an absolute ugly nightmare. A piece of his ear is missing. In the place of the left eye is a creepy empty hole.

Suddenly Swerve realizes why Blurr didn't show up for work. You can't even show him to his coworkers like that, not just to the public.

Blurr turns his head and the spell breaks. His lips stretch into a cocky smile.

“'Got bored without me Swindle?”

Swindle doesn't show the slightest emotion at the gruesome sight. He casually pulls a chair over to the hospital bed and sits down.

“Shockwave is trying to sneak a new project into the program. And he's slowly swaying investors to his side, using you as an excuse. Tells everyone you're a poor martyr he can save if only he's given the green light from above.”

Blurr wrinkles his nose.

“Not that he's wrong. The doctors say I need to pick a new career because with this...” he jerks his head to the left implying his damaged half, ” neither racing nor piloting is an option for me anymore. I'm out of your project.”

Then he stops talking for a few seconds and raises an eyebrow curiously.

“You wouldn't have come here in person just to say that. Why are you really here?”

Swindle adjusts his glasses

“Have I ever told you why I made the contract with you?”

“Because you like money” Blurr says without hesitation.

Swindle lets out a quiet chuckle.

“Fair point. But money wasn't my only priority.”

He pauses for a second. Gets up. Draws the curtains in the room. Checks to make sure no one is outside the door.

Goes back to his seat.

“You didn't see what the Mecha project was like before. Brutality and absolute disregard for human rights multiplied by a thousand. People were desperate and no one cared to maintain any decency.”

He raises his hand when Blurr rushes to say something.

“No no, listen to me. If you think things are bad now, you're right. But it used to be much. Much, much worse.”

Swindle sighs and adjusts his glasses again

“Vortex was taken as a boy. He wasn't even out of high school when they shoved him into the lab. Me and Onslaught were pulled right out of the college exams. The others were no better, although they were usually a little older. My point is that it was allowed. It's what the superiors could do and no one told them no.”

Blurr tilts his head and gets a little all turned around to see Swindle better with his right eye.

“But you... found a way to change that, didn't you?

Swindle rubs the bridge of his nose

“I have no power over my own superiors. But Onslaught and I have come up with a plan. Look. I'll put it in simple terms for you. Above me is my boss, and above him is another boss, and so on but at the very end of that chain are people from the government. The investors. So we figured out a way to cut through the chain of command and influence them directly. Make them worry about us. It's a kind of social shield. Onslaught is a genius.”

Blurr blinks.

“Why are you telling me all this.”

Swindle takes off his hat and just. Crumples it in his hands. The back of his head shows numerous scars and the glint of tiny metal implants barely visible behind his hair.

“You're that shield right now, Blurr. You can't leave.”

Blurr's eye widens

“Is that why you insisted on ‘befriending’ me with all those bullshitters?”

“I needed to make sure that in their minds we weren't just a military unit. To keep them thinking that we're as human as they are. So I gave Project Mecha a face.” He tugs on the hat again, “Your face.”

Blurr runs his fingers through his hair

“Shockwave can't do whatever he wants cause...because of me his efforts would risk going public and people wouldn't like it and it would ruin the reputation of our investors-and-they'd-cut-off-his-funding.”

Swindle puts his hat back on.

“Exactly.’ That's why he's being so persistent right now. He knows you're vulnerable and he wants to capitalize on the opportunity. Make you part of his new project and tell the world about it. Make publicity his weapon, too.”

The lamp above them flickers faintly. Blurr takes a breath. Long and tired and exhausted and. a bit doomed.

Swindle puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Please. Don't leave. At least not now. And don't let Shockwave get to you. That would open the way for him to get to the rest of the pilots you represent.”

They just. Sit in silence for a while. Blurr quickly taps a finger on his knee. A rapid tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.

Swindle moves his hand away and gets up from his chair.

“There's a press conference coming up. I need you to be there. I've told everyone who needs to know that the problem is exaggerated and you're fine but they need to see you.”

Blurr smiles sourly.

“My lawyer is going to charge you such a handsome sum for that stunt.”

Swindle laughs, but his cardboard advertising smile doesn't reach his eyes.

“We’ll see about that. Seriously though. I need you there.”

Blurr bites his lip.

“I..don’t know...”

Swerve...doesn't know what to think of that.

Blurr shows up for the press conference. Late, but he makes it. Just as Shockwave is presenting his new project in his amazingly well-pitched voice. Blurr swings the door open and waltzes lazily inside, skillfully pretending not to notice the many cameras and eyes instantly directed at him.

Swerve, whose memory is still fresh thinks for a second that no, no this can't be the same person. Past Blurr looked like a wreck. Past Blurr was tense and tired and hunched over. Present Blurr couldn't look more alive. His shoulders are squared proudly, there's that cheerful springiness and grace in his stride. He moves with ease and confidence. Smoothly.

The left side of his face is neatly covered with fresh white bandages. Carefully, without leaving the even the slightest gap through which his injury could be seen. His hands are hidden under a fancy jacket. He smiles wide and bright and squints playfully toward the table.

The very embodiment of nonchalance. The few pilots sitting in the audience roll their eyes.

Swindle breathes out a barely perceptible sigh of relief. Swerve, once again using Swindle's collar as a tactical cover, can't help but let out a silent triumphant laugh. Maybe slightly more nervous than he is supposed to be.

Blurr sends Swindle a sly, sharp smile and even knowing it wasn't meant for him, Swerve feels his cheeks heat up.

Ah, damn it.

Swerve breaks the rules. He tells himself that peeking is fraught with consequences when it comes to military organizations, but he can't stop himself from being curious. And from worry, too.

And now that he knows where to look, he sees things he'd rather not see.

Blurr ... is crumbling.

Swerve doesn't know all the details and consequences, but that incident did leave a mark.

But every time Swindle calls him and says “I need you at some place in two hours” he gets up and assembles himself into a human being. Like a goddamn puzzle. Tapes and covers the burned half of his face. Covers up the bruises and hides the stitches. Fixes his hair and sets off on shaky legs to pretend he's fine.

He smiles so bright and carefree, laughs so sweet and beautiful that no one would ever think that even standing up sometimes hurts.

And continues to act like a jerk of course.

The only difference is that this time Swerve mentally gives him the presumption of innocence before he starts judging.

Blurr does a lot of things that seem rude. He also does a lot of things that are actually rude and figuring them out without resorting to alien superpowers would be nearly impossible.

When the pilots see Blurr sitting right on the table while negotiating with investors, they roll their eyes and make comments about his terrible manners. Or when he stops showing up for even the most basic, rudimentary training.

Or when he develops that stupid habit of leaning his elbows on people standing next to him.

It's the model behavior of a rich, spoiled brat.

It's also an inconspicuous way to stay upright.

Employees say “that dumbass has never heard of personal space.”

Investors say, “I think he likes me.”

Blurr leans on Swindle's shoulder and through a charming smile says “Don't move or I'm gonna fall.”

Swindle also keeping up the smile discreetly holds him back, pretending it's a friendly half hug.

Swerve feels like yelling at both of them, but he's not sure what for exactly. For one thing, Blurr in his condition is very VERY VERY contraindicated to even get out of bed, let alone participate in social activities.

On the other hand, without Blurr, everything is going down the pit.

Without Blurr, all the government sees are dry reports and spreadsheets. Without him, all the high command has is numbers and a sense of impunity. Swerve is sickened by how easily people tend to forget that numbers represent other people.

Most pilots are able to draw a parallel between deteriorating working conditions and Blurr's sudden fondness for staying home instead of working. But they think the rich jerk got scared and ran away. Considering the way Blurr has always behaved at work - Swerve can't even judge them too much for it. They assume Shockwave getting more freedom is the cause of Blurr's absence, not the result.

Blurr's influence only becomes noticeable when it slowly starts to fade away. It's like switching from expensive tea to a cheaper one. The awful flavor only becomes noticeable in contrast.

Blurr doesn't lead the development of new technologies or go out to fight in the field. He doesn't make plans and reports, he doesn't participate in drills, he doesn't cover anyone's back in battle.

But he's the one who puts his hand on the government's shoulders when they're about to sign the next piece of paper. He's the one they have to look in the eye before they have a pen in their hands and a document authorizing Shockwave to stick more needles in people's brains.

It makes a difference. Small one. But still.

It turns a disembodied imaginary “combat units” into a tangible person.

From “do you want to accelerate the combat training of new soldiers” to “are you willing to tell the living, breathing guy standing in front of you that shoving poison under his skin is an idea you approve of.”

More importantly (And Swerve actually admires Swindle for this) Will you be able to explain anything to your families later on, when this same guy is on TV all over the country saying that's what you did to him?

There have been two fronts here all this time, Swerve realizes.

While the pilots were protecting people from monsters wearing teeth and armor, Blurr was protecting the pilots themselves from monsters wearing ties and lab coats.

After another conference, Shockwave stops Blurr in the hallway.

“Good show.”

Blurr laughs. Soundly and proudly.

“Thanks darling~ Sorry I interrupted you. Your speech sounded like something important, but I don't really know much about nerd stuff.”

Swerve, hiding on the ceiling again, snorts.

Shockwave doesn't move. Doesn't give any indication at all if he's offended or upset or whatever.

“It must have been hard getting here with your injuries.”

Blurr shrugs and lazily turns his head around distracted.

“It's just a few bruises here and there. Not the end of the world.”

Shockwave nods slowly. His voice and posture and all, Swerve thinks, looking very uncomfortable.

“Of course it isn't. But hardly good for your career.”

Blurr freezes.

No, Swerve thinks. Shit. No, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't

“Your brilliant achievements have always been a source of admiration to me” continues Shockwave “it would be a pity to lose them.”

Blurr makes an indifferent face and tucks his hands into his pockets.

“Like I said. Not the end of the world.”

Swerve imagines choking Shockwave. Dropping a lamp on his head. Maybe jumping on top of him himself. Shut up, he thinks. Shut up, shut up, stop fucking talking.

Shockwave with a nice, slow gesture pulls out a notebook from somewhere and flips a couple pages.

“Multiple burns, cracked ribs, poisoning from carbon monoxide and combustion products of toxic chemicals...”

Blurr visibly shivers and looks away.

“...loss of vision on one side...” Shockwave continues reading, ”and partial hearing loss. Finally, the impact of neural link malfunctions. And this, if I'm not mistaken, is on top of the already existing memory problems?”

Shockwave takes a step closer. Not fast enough to make it look threatening, but enough to hover.

“It may not be the end of the world, but it is the end of you.”

He writes a set of numbers on the same page, tears it off, and hands it to Blurr.

“You are broken. I can fix you.”

Blurr frowns, but takes the piece of paper.

“That fixing would involve giving you consent to mess around with my head, wouldn't it? It's brave of you to think I'd go for that.”

Shockwave tucks the notepad into his pocket.

“I can assure you, neither I nor anyone else is interested in your brain. I just want to give you back what you're truly valued for.”

Blurr flinches.

“I don't need your help.”

“ If you say so,” Shockwave agrees easily. Nods, slowly and smoothly. Then starts to walk away “But you do need your fame.”

...

“By the way, you might want to wipe the blood off.”

Blurr waits until Shockwave's back disappears around the corner, then quickly pulls a tissue from his pocket and brings it up to his nose.

____________________________

Swerve wakes up looking up at the ceiling of his room. The high, metal ceiling, of a metal room on a metal spaceship.

Holy shit...

Jazz pokes him gently on the forearm

“Are you alive? You've been gone for like quite a while...Did it work?”

“Hey Jazz” frowns Swerve “what do you know about Blurr?”

Jazz laughs

“What are you fanboying over him again? Still??? Dude's smug and arrogant. Good boss though. I was hired to perform at his parties before I became a pilot.”

Swerve sits up and rubs the back of his head.

“Ah...”

“So it worked?”

“Wha...ah! Yes! Yes, it worked! I managed to get the number and codes from the space bridge the Quints used on you. We just need to find another space bridge and we'll have a pretty much direct route to Earth...well. Or rather, to the Quint ship that's located near Earth. You get the idea.”

Jazz rubs his hands together happily.

“I'll take it.”

Swerve jumps to the floor and heads to grab an energon cube. Man, these holoform exercises are burning energy like crazy.

He stares at his metal hands like an idiot for a couple minutes. Just...Contemplates how non-human they are.

He has eight fingers again instead of the human ten. Huh.

Prowl downloads the information he's gotten and immediately runs off to plan a route to the nearest working space bridge and for a while Swerve is just.

Left to himself.

He tries not to think about Blurr. What would he even say to him? Hey, look, I'm sorry I accidentally set you up, see, I'm actually an alien who was sleepwalking and thought you were fictional, surely this won't affect our non-existent strictly professional working relationship? Nah, screw that. If he's going to sound crazy, he needs to at least come up with a good presentation for his insanity.

....

Is it weird to think humans are beautiful if you're not human? If you're kind of human, but only in your soul and only half human?

He looks at Jazz and Prowl.

“You two get along really well.”

Jazz chuckles, sitting on Prowl's shoulder.

“Right now, yes. But we got on each other's nerves quite a bit when we first met.”

Swerve looks up at Jazz's chattering legs from his height and thinks. This is working somehow.

On the other hand, Jazz is the exception rather than the rule. He's friendly with everyone, he's easy to get along with, he's the soul of any company and most importantly, he was a little too much into robots before he discovered they could be alive. If anyone could find common ground with the Cybertronians, it would definitely be Jazz.

_____________________

”Are you a ghost?”

Swerve shrieks in fear and gets covered in static. He hadn't planned on talking. He hadn't planned on being noticed at all. Blurr was supposed to be asleep! And Swerve just wanted to close the curtains and leave, because there's some noisy party going on outside and bright illuminations are very bad for a patient already suffering from neural connection withdrawal.

He freezes in place like that dude from Jurassic Park. Like if he's still enough, he won't be noticed. Oh, or was that from another movie?

“I'm just uh” he awkwardly reaches up and closes the curtains “Lights. Bad for...you...now.”

Blurr chuckles. It sounds suspiciously joyful. His whole posture and facial expression. He looks very relaxed for someone who had a ghost materialize into the room out of thin air.

Swerve traces the line of the IV with his gaze. Oops, that looks like painkillers.

“Yes I am. Uh. A ghost watching the curtains. And now the curtains are fine, so I guess I'd better go?”

Blurr squints amusedly.

“You can walk through walls?”

“Uh, I can teleport into the next room?”

He backs up his words by making himself disappear and reappear in another corner of the room.

“Cool!” says Blurr cheerfully.

Swerve is involuntarily infected by his mood and makes a couple dramatic bows as if he were some kind of magician.

“ Show me more?”

“Hehehe okay eh” Swerve spreads his arms like he's presenting something and then makes himself the size of a soda bottle and teleports to the edge of Blurr's bed “Ta daaaa~”

“Wooooo look at you, you're like an action figure~”

Blurr immediately makes an attempt to touch him, but fails to reach and drops his hand back on the blanket.

Swerve chuckles and steps closer. It's funny to see the usually incredibly agile Blurr struggling with something so simple and ridiculous.

“They really drugged you huh?”

“It's not the drugs” snorts Blurr ”...it's my eye.”

He raises his hand once more and hesitantly pulls it towards Swerve until it bumps into his hair

“... depths Per…percen.. ah, shit. I can't tell how far away things are.”

Swerve just. Lets Blurr fidget at himself, while starting to feel really bad at the same time.

"If you can't tell how far things are, how are you going to drive?

Race???”

He must have a plan right? Something? Let’s-prove-Shockwave-wrong tactic???

Blurr drops his hands back on the blanket

“I won't.”

He freezes when the all too close fireworks rumble outside the window. Then points to his head.

“With this. I can't drive, I can barely walk at all, and I look like horror movie material. Pathetic heeh.”

Swerve sits down quietly cross-legged on the blanket.

“Well...at least you're alive....”

Blurr shakes his head.

“If I had died, it would have been epic. You know? Dharm...dramatic! It would be big news and everyone would be talking about what a hero I was or...or something...”

“...”

“Swindle would be so angry, but he'd figure out a way to make money out of it. He'd make a commercial about how people should be heroes. I'd be remn..remembered for being cool and brave and stuff.”

Fireworks can be heard from the street again. Swerve notices that there is a thin slit between the closed curtains through which a slim, flickering strip of multicolored light streams into the room.

Blurr frowns and leans back against the pillow, looking up at the ceiling.

“I've turned into a boring wreck. My records will be beaten, my career forgotten , and all the guys from work will remember me as a brat. In a--in a--in a way, it's worse than death. Shockwave's right.”

Swerve isn't sure what exactly would be an acceptable gesture of comfort, so he kind of just. Places his hand on the blanket covering Blurr's lap.

“Hey, don't say that. I think what you're doing is great.”

“Liar” smiles Blurr crookedly ”You hated me. I saw your posters collection.”

Oh shit. The ones he ripped off the walls and destroyed in a fit of fan frustration? He didn't even hide them, just shoved them in the back corner. Aw, man...

Swerve folds his arms awkwardly across his chest.

“I can be mad at you and think you're cool at the same time. I'm a multitasker.”

“You're a very specific kind of ghost.” says Blurr. Then, apparently inspired by the painkillers, decides to drop the conversational equivalent of an atomic bomb on Swerve's head “You died because of me?”

Swerve stiffens.

“I...Wwhat?”

“You know.” he makes a gesture with his hand that's ..unclear what it's supposed to mean. “You were working there with everyone else, and then there was that fire and I was sure I saw you down there under the rubble.”

He's silent for a couple seconds before he hesitantly continues

“And then no one could find you so most assumed you either burned or ran away. And now you're here with all your weird ghost stuff, so you must be dead.”

Swerve has.No idea what to think about it. And what to say? He's been so busy blaming himself for Blurr getting hurt that it hasn't occurred to him to think about what it looks like from Blurr's own perspective.

“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”

“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head’s all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”

Swerve wants to run around and bang his head against the wall.

Instead, he gets up from the hospital bed. Carefully.

“You're high. I'm not going to explain things to you while you're high, you won't understand or remember them. Go back to sleep. It's the middle of the night.”

“You'll tell me later?”

Swerve hums quietly and pulls the curtains all the way closed.

“If future, sober Blurr would want my company.”

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

Jazz looks at him. Very intensely.

“Are you going to tell me who this mystery person you keep coming back to Earth for?”

Swerve snorts.

“What makes you think it's anyone in particular?”

“You're right, you're right~” raises his hands in surrender Jazz “So are you going to tell your friend the whole thing?”

Swerve crosses his ..metal arms over his metal chest.

“Is it that big of a deal? He thinks I'm a ghost or something.”

Being a ghost...somehow better, he thinks. If you're a ghost, it kind of automatically implies you're human. Or was a human.

“Sooner or later, he'll put the facts together~” says Jazz in a chant.

Swerve laughs.

“That's unlikely. He's got a pretty bad memory.”

_______________

His plans to stay out of anyone's sight combust with a dramatic pop the next time he projects himself to Earth. He doesn't plan to interfere, he doesn't even plan to linger. He just wants to see what's going on.

He actually just quietly sneaks into the hospital to make sure nothing's happened to Blurr since last time, but when he finally finds him then...oh shit, is that Pharma in the same room with him??? This can't be good.

They don't speak, but Pharma has clearly locked his eyes on Blurr and starts making his way towards him with the relentlessness of a industrial metal press.

Swerve does some rough math in his head. If he briefly gives his holoform back its detail and voice, will that be enough to fry his processor? He's not sure.

Pharma gives a believable impression of a shark getting close. The staff, as if sensing something untoward is about to happen, leaves the room in a hurry.

Blurr looks indifferent, but Swerve's attention is drawn to the way he squints tensely. Man, the lamps are too bright in here.

Pharma smiles sweetly and reaches out for a handshake

“Mind some company?”

Swerve's mental processes fly out the window. Oh no no. Not Pharma. Not in his fucking fanfic. He quickly changes his work clothes into a slightly more business-like looking shirt. Thinks for just a moment and adds a cap to his head to blend in more strongly with the attendants and hide his face to an extent. And then projects himself around the nearest unoccupied corner and runs out of behind it looking as anxious as he feels.

“Blurr!!! Sir, there you are!!! I've been looking everywhere for you!”

Pharma wants to say something, but Swerve doesn't even let him start. He stands in front of Blurr separating him and Farma expressively waves his hands trying to keep his head down.

“The guys you were talking about didn't bring the new hydraulics! It's a disaster, we'll have to use the one on the old models!”

Blurr, to his surprise, backs up his act almost instantly

“Really? But I thought there was nothing to take from the old models?”

“That's exactly the point! I got the paperwork this morning and...oh those assholes are going to screw it up if you don't step in as soon as possible!”

Pharma tilts his head

“Can it wait? We were actually talking here!”

Oh no, thinks Swerve I'll show you who's talking.

“Sir, no offense but this is a matter of extreme urgency. Are you implying that the safety of your patients is not important?”

“What do you mea...”

“Old faulty hydraulics, that's what you want?” raises an eyebrow in horror Blurr.

“No I'm just...”

“I had a better opinion of you, to be honest.”

“I...” opens his mouth Pharma “...WHAT...?”

Swerve shakes his head.

“And I thought his profession was to help people, can you imagine?”

“Wh..”

Blurr rolls his eye.

“Any idiot can get an important position these days.”

“Wait..”

“Tell me about it. Especially doctors.”

Pharma looks like he's about to start pulling the hair out of his head.

“Can at least one of you shut up??”

Swerve adjusts his cap in a businesslike manner

“Sir, I understand you're a bit detached from reality spending so much time in your department, but you need to take better care of your reputation.”

He raises his eyebrows knowingly

“Wouldn't want the rumors about you to turn out to be true. You know what I mean?”

Pharma doesn't even answer anymore. Pharma just looks like a discarded fish.

“…..Wha....there's rumors?”

“Of course” shrugs Swerve ”Ask Norman, he usually knows everything about everyone. And about your interesting tricks with safety, too.”

He leans in conspiratorially, effectively pulling all of Farma's attention to himself

“So if I were you, I'd stay out of any more things you don't understand.”

Pharma wants to say something. Swerve can tell by the look in his eyes. Pharma tries to come up with a witty and context-appropriate response, but this whole conversation has no more context than a typical episode of Teletubbies.

“Where does this Norman guy work?” finally finds the ground beneath his feet Pharma

Swerve shrugs.

“Block C, if he hasn't been transferred yet. He's already been fined several times for spreading harmful information you know? The guy can't keep a secret.”

Pharma throws his hands up angrily and storms away. Probably looking for context. Or revenge.

A quiet cough sounds behind Swerve's back.

“So. Should I be worried about Norman's health?”

Swerve feels the hair on the back of his neck shiver and slowly turns to face Blurr while still looking somewhere on the floor.

“Uh...only if you're concerned about the fate of fictional characters. I made up Norman's wife, she'll be upset if he gets fired for gossiping.”

Blurr chuckles. Then goes silent. Then, after a couple seconds, starts laughing again. That's a good look for him, Swerve thinks. It's not like Blurr's usual velvet-smooth laugh that he uses at social events. It's more like a quick, jerky giggle, and in Swerve's subjective opinion, it's pretty damn cute. He can't help but grin.

Blurr snorts one last time, cutting off the laughter.

Then he reaches out his hand to him.

Swerve reaches back, expecting a handshake, but Blurr ignores his hand and instead goes for his cap and lifts it by the brim.

Swerve, not expecting this, freezes with his hand outstretched.

Blurr freezes as well, still holding the cap in his hand and looking...like he's rethinking his life. A little.

Ugh, and how to explain it all to him....

“Uh...you...uh...probably don't remember me. I...it's...”

Blurr shifts his gaze from Swerve to the cap in his hand. Then back to Swerve.

“You're real???”

Swerve awkwardly waves his hands in front of him

“Ah not.., not really. Do you know why Pharma was looking for you in the first place? He doesn't work with patients anymore, he's been reassigned to the research department, right?”

Blurr shrugs.

“Last time I saw him, he said I might have implant rejection in the third ..uh..what? stage? or something? I think he's trying to get me in for a checkup.”

Swerve twitches.

“Third??? How are you still standing???”

He then quickly reaches up with both hands to Blurr's head and tilts it so he can see his face better. Using one thumb, he pulls his lower eyelid slightly and mentally catalogs. Temperature normal, pupil normal, eyes are steady, no darkening or trace of blood on the eyelid. Implants? He puts both palms up and gently feels the places behind Blurr's ears. No signs of rejection or malfunction.

“No no no” sighs Swerve ”You're fine, it's only stage two. I mean, second sucks too, migraines and all, but you just need to rest and no bright lights and...” he finally notices his hands are still on Blurr's head and pulls them back as fast as if he's been burned ”I MEAN I'm uh...sorry, I didn't mean to, I...”

Blurr laughs quietly.

“I'm glad you're back.”

_____________________

He wakes up in his quarters and can feel his face burning.

When he goes out to get the energon, Jazz throws him a look.

“Is something wrong? You're all kinda...shaky.”

“Hhhhhhuuuuuuuuuuuu” imitates signs of life Swerve “Say, doesn't it bother you that Prowl isn't human?”

Jazz smiles

“ Oh, I went crazy when I found out. But we figured it out.”

“Like...on a scale from ‘bad grade in school’ to ‘an asteroid is coming to Earth’ how crazy was it?”

“Worried about what your human friends will think?”

Swerve swings back and forth on his heels

“Pfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff. Whatnooooo, no of course not. I'd be worried if I planned on telling them at all.”

Jazz frowns

“No offense, but keeping secrets isn't your strong suit.”

“Haha” Swerve waves his servo “ Watch me.”

[cottoncanditail]

theres no way you get away with dressing like this all the time? even with family and friends? none of them get mad about it? not trying to be rude btw im just confused on how no one is uncomfortable with it

Oh, I've gotten plenty of complaints :D other than my mama, almost everyone in my family by the time I was 13 would tell me to cover up more, wear a bra, wear looser things, etc. I just never listened; it made me worse actually! I hate being told no by people I don't value the opinion of in the first place. My mama always told me I looked lovely in whatever I wanted to wear, as long as I was a good girl and treated others nicely, so I've gone by that my whole life. Now that I'm older, most of my family has given up and chooses to no longer be mad about it. Some of them have even come around and starting getting me crop tops and skirts :3

My friends on the other hand have never had a problem with my style :) One of my favorite tops (seen above) was bought for me by a friend! Another friend has bought me lingerie, because she remembered I mentioned wanting a set for photos. I even wore the outfit above to meet a friend for thrifting; he loved the look :D I of course will tone it down depending on the occasion, but that doesn't happen often. I feel my best in these kinds of clothes <3

Oh, and Merry Christmas Eve friends!!

[yierrem]

dating headcanons - zzzero men edition (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))♡

ft. gn!reader x anton ivanov, ben bigger, lighter, von lycaon, wise ; no applicable warnings! my first request (i tried to finish it before christmas in my timezone, but still, merry christmas to the anon who requested this :DD) hehehhe i hope its good enough｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

anton ivanov

you cannot look me in the eye and tell me this man isn’t the type to yell “this is for you!” or “if i hit this you give me a kiss” and completely miss whatever target he’s supposed to hit. he hits it. sometimes. he still gets a kiss anyways.

[“dude” “we’re literally dating and you’ve placed your lips on mine do NOT call me dude.” “…babe”]

big on gift giving and words of affirmation in terms of love languages. he makes sure to put a lot of thought into whatever he gives to you to properly convey his appreciation and show just how much you mean to him.

"strong, sincere, and straightforward." he's definitely the type to encourage you to try new things especially when you're the type to get easily nervous. if you're scared of looking stupid, don't worry; he'll do it with you hand-in-hand so you can be stupid together. becomes your no. 1 hype man and would give you his honest opinions whenever you need ‘em.

you see or hear him talking to his jackhammer bro for the most mundane or random things and you've become used to it at this point. its honestly endearing (you're hopeless)

["bro do you think they'd still love me if i was a worm?" "vroom vroom vroom" “you think so?” “vroom” "yeah, you're right."]

ben bigger

scary bear privileges meaning no one wants to mess with you knowing that you're dating someone who cuts such an intimidating presence but you know better than them because ben would much rather use his paws to tap away at a calculator or spreadsheet than willingly get into fights.

on that note, he's most likely to be the best companion for grocery shopping; he'll know how to get all the good discounts and haggle for the best prices for sure.

best cuddle partner to have during colder seasons no. 1. although he puts his fur care second, it's still soft and fuzzy to the touch and he likes that you appreciate the warmth it provides too.

since he struggles with some of his accounting responsibilities due to the size of his paws, sometimes you help him with sorting some of belobog industries' financial documents and eventually you end up finding the task quite relaxing after a while of doing it.

but, of course, he loves spending time with you outside of work. anything to take his mind off of the horrors of accounting. he'll mentally file away anything he learns about you when you're together for future purposes, may it be gift or date ideas.

he's the bear thiren between both of you, but in private he loves cuddling against you like you're some sort of plush toy. you don't mind. another win-win situation because you get to rest against him like a giant pillow as well.

lighter

he tries to be flirty with you and sometimes it works! but when you match his energy and it backfires on him he turns into a blushing mess who doesn’t know what to do with himself.

also the type to want to show off or act all suave. he has an image to keep as the undefeated champion! the red scarf! (he’s internally giggling and kicking his feet from one [1] cheek kiss you left in passing).

date nights with him sometimes consist of drives on his bike and stargazing at a nice little spot he found in blazewood. then halfway through, he’d get distracted from seeing the stars in your eyes and think that its a hundred times better than the real thing and fall in love all over again.

“gets as many challenges as love letters” but he makes sure that you and anyone who tries to make a move know that he only has eyes for you. could be in the form of having an arm around your waist or his jacket on you when you feel cold.

a physical touch and acts of service guy because. well. he did say he’d like to die for love one day. that’s a very romantic thing to say and do. also his heart still races whenever you hold his hand but he swears he’s getting used to it (he isn’t). probably melts when you gently run your fingers over his face or any of his scars

i honestly feel like he's one of those "me and my bae don't argue they just tell me to shut up and i do" types.

von lycaon

an ideal date for him would be a fancy dinner or picnic somewhere nice and discreet. complete with scented candles, your favorite flowers, and homecooked food (which probably tastes better than anything you've ever eaten at any restaurant). then at some point when both of you have finished eating and you're both in conversation, he brings your hand up to his lips and leaves a kiss on your knuckles.

["darling, your face is...concerningly red. are you feeling alright?" "i'm fine. i think."]

you WILL be receiving that prince/princess treatment (threat). breakfast in bed when he isn’t busy, spontaneous massages offered when you mention ONCE that you feel tired, and all that jazz. you probably will never have to open another door yourself with him around and he ALWAYS offers his arm for you to take when you're walking together.

best cuddle partner to have during colder seasons no. 2. just prepare yourself for horrendous shedding as summer begins… but you don’t mind helping him brush through his fur (*´ω`*) its therapeutic and you’re one of the very few people he trusts with the task so its a win for both of you.

since he's a wolf thiren, he sometimes unwillingly attracts the attention of stray cats and dogs; he usually pays them no mind but it is somewhat of an inconvenience for him. however, the sight of you playing with them while quietly cooing eases some of his discomfort. seems like you aren't the only one suffering from cuteness aggression.

his guilty pleasure is squishing your cheeks in his hands. no i will not elaborate

wise

this is one of the random play managers we’re talking about, so. movie date nights are mandatory. both of you alternate when picking movies but sometimes you bicker over options like an old married couple just for the fun of it.

a lot more chill when it comes to PDA but he can be flirty when he wants to be. if he knows you have a weak spot for it, he uses it to his advantage to get what he wants. scheming little minx. /pos

words of affirmation and quality time guy, i think. since he's always so busy with managing the store and completing commissions alongside belle as proxies, he makes the most out of the time you guys can spend together alone. even if it's just laying in his bed or on the couch doing nothing together sometimes.

everyone and their mothers and grandmothers on sixth street will probably know that you’re dating or figure something out at some point even when both of you don’t really do much together in public/are trying to keep it on the low. never underestimate these aunties man

unfortunately for wise, he will become the target of teasing or nagging from belle when it comes to your relationship. once you get close enough she'll also share embarrassing stories from when they were younger or before you and wise started dating much to her brother’s chagrin.

secretly likes clinging and cuddling up to you like a koala. both of you are in bed? oh okay, don’t mind him, he’ll just scooch a bit and wrap his arms and legs around you, claiming that having you in his bed helps fix his insomnia (it does, to some degree). [“wise i can’t move.” “you don’t need to.”]

on the days you help out with tasks in random play, you could quite literally just be standing while doing something and then you’ll feel a pair of arms sneak around your waist from behind as he leans his head on one of your shoulders with a quiet, satisfied sigh.

[sleepynoons]

AHHHH help i need someone to pick me off the floor and bring a mop over

hi it's me again sorry for existing in the same timeline as you

anyway sooooooo many wonderful perfect amazing show-stopping things about the finale

uh first of all, kudos for the perfect break between pt 1 and pt 2 - it's incredibly seamless, and it ties all the loose strings together, and really, the thing that stuck out to me about this whole story is simply how Cohesive it is. super hard to execute that as a writer, so really, really impressed by that.

onto more specifics.

first, i so appreciate the portrayal of reader as being very sexually active, and in my mind, hypersexual. i mentioned previously about how we don't really know the full story with suo, and that applies to reader as well. we don't really how reader grew up, what her likes/dislikes are (besides sex and bad sex, respectively), what family life was like before getting kicked out, etc. not sure what you had in mind, but there's a sense i have where i truly, truly believe reader is not actually a very reliable narrator!!! i think there's some avoidance!!! some dense and forgetful behavior that is meant to elucidate and confuse us as readers!!! and funnily enough, suo helps us gain clarity.

anyway, i think hypersexuality rep is important, in general. a big part of it isn't just feeling horny 24/7. there's some very real problems with low esteem/self-respect, feelings of disgust, internalized misogyny + objectification, and more. i think this fic also treads this balance very carefully, in that it recognizes that sex work is really just a means to get by, in the most neutral sense possible. it's not always glamorous, it's not always violent. as someone who's done a ton of research and activism in sex work, especially at the intersection of sex work + immigration, i really appreciated this rep.

in terms of reader and suo's relationship, this is really where i wanna dive into it. it's very clear i love them and i love them together, but it's not just their alikeness that makes them work. it's their shared history, their leniency + strict expectations for each other, and so much more.

the specific word choices and phrases really drive this through – "being gutted by suo" "mortified" "pavlovian response" and so many more

their banter is really the cherry on top as well.

also wanna emphasize this more - despite how romantic they are with each other (in their minds), they're also so sharp and judgmental – and i mean judgmental. lowkey kinda like asian parenting LOL like reader wants the best for suo, but now that suo's become a yakuza, that's a grudge she's keeping for the rest of her life. similarly, suo wants reader to stop fucking around and actually practice more self-control, but because she doesn't listen, he's gotta take matters into his own hands and edge the living shit out of her. sexual innuendos aside, literally asian love. like fine we'll deal with it if you don't listen but just know we're holding it over your head for the rest of your goddamn life LMFAO ik it's kinda toxic to other folks who may not have grown up in such an environment - and i'm not really gonna have an opinion on whether it's valid/justifiable or not -, but as someone who grew up with tiger parents + somehow managed to be somewhat emotionally close to them, this type of love is really smth i treasure a lot.

and i think that's the whole point of the fic, for me at least. reader and suo want to take care of each other. they want to cherish the time they have together. but at the same time, it's realistically impossible not to hurt your loved ones. i think it's so easy to say certain things are dealbreakers and to just walk away, but even irl, sometimes it's also just... hard to walk away. idk maybe i have a really convoluted sense of love and romanticism, but i am 100000% convinced love is difficult and honestly not really worth the payoff sometimes, yet reader and suo kinda don't even care if the payoff's worth it. like we'll hurt, we'll love, and we'll just see how it goes bc we just care that fucking much about each other. i wonder if they'd still choose to be tgt even if they knew they were making each other incredibly unhappy... bc they're each other's person ykwim.... anyway, some more food for thought for me... heheh

also,,, sex scene had me quaking,,, i totally read the tags and saw p*ssy inspection and wasn't shocked,,, totally was prepared,,, haha,,,, ha

anyway, sooo much love and thanks again, op. i may have gone off the rails, and thought or interpreted shit you didn't even think about or agree with. point is, haven't thought so much about a fic in so long, and i really was so enraptured with every word, every cadence, every paragraph. apologies for the brief spam in your inbox, but i really hope, no matter where you go, you keep writing. thank you so so so much, truly, for sharing this with us.

TOKYO VICE | part 2

“Do you remember,” Suo begins, voice light, “how our master always talked about how important it is to engage with each other’s feelings?” You tense. “No,” you blurt out, and Suo laughs. “Of course not,” he plays along. “You were always so terrible at it. But I've been doing a bad job too, lately. So”—he reaches beneath your dress, hooks your thong with his fingers and starts pulling the fabric down your sticky thighs—“I wanted to have an honest conversation with you.” (Or: Tired of your lies and self-deception, Suo takes matters into his own hands and forces the truth out of you.)

12.8k words. suo x fem reader. deeply unserious yakuza au ft. yandere suo. mostly unrepentant smut, comedy, angst. warnings: sex work. nsft tags: afab reader, emotional sex, fingering, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, pussyjob, just the tip, creampie. suo is mean and makes you cry but there's no degradation, he's just a bastard lol. he also manhandles you a lot and you sit in his lap. dividers by @/cafekitsune!

part 1 here

You're surprised at Suo’s indifference to your sex life.

A month has gone by, and he’s made no comment on your habit of sleeping with customers, nor on the hours during which you come home—which are now even later than usual, since you have express permission to sleep with people and have no need to rush back to the penthouse after your ‘appointments’. And it isn't as if he's ignoring the reality of your late nights either. In a stunning show of respect for your personal freedom, he now actively offers to arrange for someone to pick you up from whichever love hotel you'll end up at. (You always decline, of course—if you're going to pretend to be his wife, you'd rather pretend to be a faithful one.)

Ironically, you had initially thought that Suo’s approval wouldn't matter either way. You had found the sex with your clients to be so uninspiring that it made you miss celibacy, so you were planning on stopping. But it turned out that you were deeply affected by the experience of sitting in Suo’s lap as he talked about his expectation of deciding whose cocks you should be allowed to take. It did something horrible to your sex drive, and thus you turned to work as your only outlet.

You spent around three weeks desperately trying to find a customer to satisfy your urges—or at the very least, to fuck you in a way that could get you to stop thinking of Suo whenever you got even a little horny. You were faced with utter failure in this pursuit, and in the end, bleakly resigned yourself to the reality that your shameful attraction to your best friend is incurable. You’ve now given up on the love hotel visits and simply take care of your needs with a vibrator instead. At least this way, you can actually say Suo’s name while you cum, rather than constantly reminding yourself to say your customer’s name instead.

The freedom of letting yourself fantasise about Suo has been exhilarating, but terrible for your friendship. It’s just difficult to sit across from him at breakfast and act like you haven't touched yourself at the table while he was gone, fantasising about what it would be like if he bent you over it and fucked you dumb. But you are a decent actor—hostessing demands that of you—so you don't think Suo has caught onto your carnal desires for him. Hopefully, he never will.

Another couple of weeks pass like this. Things are so calm that you come to believe that Suo is genuinely fine with you having some degree of sexual freedom, at least at work. This, however, turns out to be nothing short of naïvete.

After all, Suo is never forceful when he's upset with your decisions—but he also never fails to redirect them.

One spring evening, you show up at the kyabakura and are told that you’re only to see one customer tonight, and that it will be a private session.

“But we don't do private sessions here,” you say, blissfully unaware of your imminent suffering, “and we don't even have private rooms at this establishment.”

To this, your mamasan responds that the club is making an exception for this one guest, and that this guest has rented out the rooftop bar just to see you. When you ask just who this person might be, a look of mild panic flashes through her eyes. She grabs you by the shoulders and tells you to be careful. Just keep him happy and go home after, okay? she says. Don't go out for drinks, and definitely don't go to any love hotels. Don’t tell him your real name at any cost. You don't want to involve yourself with a man like him.

A sense of dread fills you as you step into the elevator.

A cool breeze greets you when you step onto the rooftop patio. Normally bustling with a raucous crowd, it almost feels eerie in its emptiness. Aside from the glow of the red light district beneath you and the city skyline in the distance, the only light is coming from the candles lighting one of the booths.

Your anxiety intensifies as you approach it.

You aren't very surprised at the sight of Suo lounging on a leather couch, dressed in full criminal regalia—infamous eyepatch, tassel earrings, and all. Sakura once mentioned that this club is connected to some colour gang, so you figure that the manager likely recognized Gui Yanzhao on sight. He probably suffered a minor angina when he did. The mamasan herself has no criminal ties to your knowledge, but she was probably informed that one of her girls was to entertain a high-profile yakuza, and she was likely worried that you'd been maimed in the process. Gui Yanzhao has a bit of a reputation for being a sadist, after all.

While you appreciate her concern, it is not Suo’s history of violence that scares you, but his history of antagonising you. On good days, there's nothing that delights him more than seeing you flustered or off-kilter. On bad days, there’s nothing that consoles him like spiteful retaliation against whomever's managed to piss him off—and you have, without a doubt, managed to piss him off.

You groan as soon as you see him, fearing the worst for your mental health.

“What are you doing here,” you say, and Suo smiles.

“Oh? You're not happy to see me?”

“No,” you moan. “How are you even here right now? Aren't you worried about being assassinated or something? Who did you terrorise to get an entire rooftop bar to yourself?”

“I have a very cordial relationship with all the major organisations on Keisei Street and was promised immunity during my visit tonight,” Suo says neatly. “And I didn't terrorise anyone. I simply walked into this fine establishment and politely asked for a private space to enjoy with my preferred hostess.”

Neither of you need to mention that the sight of the tassel earrings alone would be enough to terrorise someone. The manager probably felt like he was being extorted just from being on the receiving end of Suo’s smile. Actually, you currently feel like you're being extorted too.

You spend a good few moments giving him a look of open distress, to which he smiles.

“You know,” he says, “for a top-ranking hostess, you're not showing much hospitality right now.”

“Oh, for the love of—”

You force yourself to stop, remembering that you are, in fact, at work. Despite your mixed feelings about your industry, at the end of the day, you pride yourself on your work ethic. You take your job very seriously, and your job right now is to entertain your customer—even if said customer is your fake yakuza husband who is toying with you as a cat would a mouse.

Resigning yourself to a night of probable humiliation (one of Suo's greatest passions in addition to lying for comedy), you walk over to sit yourself next to him. And just like in Red Dragon’s lounge, Suo overturns the decision by pulling you into his lap. Your eyes go wide as he settles you on top of him—because unlike the intimate space of that crime scene, this is expressly forbidden behaviour at your club.

Also, unlike that other night, you are currently wearing the shortest dress imaginable and the tiniest thong you own.

You find yourself shivering as Suo's hand settles on your lower back, which is fully exposed thanks to the cut of your dress. You try not to focus on the calloused press of his fingers against your bare skin, but this is an exceedingly difficult endeavour, as his touch has been featured in your sexual fantasies for the past several weeks. Worse yet—your dress is now riding up your ass, and your thong isn't doing much to cover you. Whatever material his pants are made of—light, delicate—feels incredibly good against your thighs too.

If this continues, you might cum on the spot.

“Wait,” you say, and Suo raises a brow.

“Oh?”

“You aren't supposed to touch the hostesses here.”

He smiles. “I'm sure this place might be able to make an exception for me. But only if you are personally willing to, of course.”

“...”

Making an exception for him, in your current situation, would be among the worst decisions you've ever made. But after two of the most sexually frustrating months of your life, you’re ready to make horrible decisions.

“Fine,” you say. “But you better not cheap out on the drinks. The mamasan will only overlook this if you make it worth our while.”

“Of course,” Suo says. “Though I think she’d overlook a lot of things for me regardless.”

Suo makes good on his promise and orders a great deal of alcohol. All top shelf, of course. He laughs that his goal is to bring you to the number 1 ranking with his patronage alone tonight. It’s a hideous display of wealth.

As you pour him an absurdly expensive drink (a Hibiki 30 year-old blended whiskey), you reminisce on how little money you both used to have as teens. He had to be so careful with his wallet whenever he felt like visiting you—or rather, checking in on you—at work. Especially after your master passed. The two of you were very good about staying financially independent, but there was something comforting about your master’s promise to support you if anything ever happened.

With him gone, you and Suo had only financial paranoia and each other.

You guess that might have affected Suo more than you thought. Perhaps he didn't join the yakuza to spite you, but to support you. Certainly, he seems to enjoy spoiling you right now—treating you to drinks that would easily clear a year of his salary as a teen, buying out an entire night of your time at a high end club, renting out a whole floor just so that he can have you to himself. When you point out that his tab must be getting catastrophic, he only laughs.

“I did always say that I wanted to spend money on you,” he recalls. It had been a running joke during your days at the girls’ bar, when you scolded him for paying 3000¥ per hour just to visit you. You hated that he was wasting money on the red light district; he always replied that it wasn't a waste, because it was money spent to see you.

You feel your stomach flutter at the comment. You didn't think he'd remember words from so long ago. As a teenager, you had a tendency of clinging onto small, inconsequential moments with him because they brought you so much joy. You’ve always assumed he would have forgotten them, writing them off as instances of shallow teasing—but if he remembers, then surely they meant something to him too?

This would all make you feel sentimental if you weren't outrageously horny.

Suo has kept you on his lap the whole evening, even as you pour him drinks. Every movement to serve him has you involuntarily rubbing on his thigh, and you're quite certain at this point that he's been lifting your skirt up inch by inch with every casual touch on your waist. You don't bother accusing him of it, though. He'd just give you an innocent look and say that it was an accident. What a horrible man.

Accident or not though, it doesn't change the fact that your nearly bare cunt is pressed right against him. You keep trying to shift positions to pull down your skirt or lift yourself off him, but each attempt only makes it worse—brings the soft fabric of his pants right against your pussy, or makes your clit drag against his thigh, with only your thong separating your bodies. You try to suppress your arousal, but to your overwhelming horror, you can't seem to control yourself. You feel yourself getting wet, folds quickly becoming slick as you’re forced to grind on him. Your body, already warm from all the cocktails and shots, grows even hotter as you squirm on his lap.

In a desperate move to regain some control, you fully get up to reach for another drink. But then you feel a pair of hands on your waist, and Suo pulls you back onto his leg—this time forcing you to straddle it. You can't help the whimper that leaves you as your dripping cunt is spread and pressed against him, your clit throbbing against his thigh.

You pray that he doesn't notice the noise, so of course he does.

“Hm? Is something wrong?” Suo’s hand drifts over your waist and down to your thigh, where it ghosts over your bare skin. He leans in, and his voice is silky as he speaks into your ear: “You're moving around a lot. Do you need to get up?”

He’s giving you an out. It's quite considerate of him, as staying like this would not be a good decision. But for better or worse, you have a tendency to make bad ones.

“...no, I'm fine.”

“Good,” he says. “Let me know if you’re uncomfortable at all. I'm happy to move if you'd like.”

As if demonstrating, Suo shifts the leg you're sitting on, directly rubbing it against your core. You try not to shudder, feeling yourself get even wetter, clenching around nothing.

Trying to ignore how empty you are, you grasp for other topics of conversation, something to distract you. A little scrambled from the alcohol and catastrophically aroused, you of course land on the one that's been making your sex drive unmanageable.

“Remember a month ago,” you say, “how you talked about choosing who gets to touch me?”

“Yes.” His palm is warm against your thigh. He isn't moving it, so there's plausible deniability, but the amused tone of his voice suggests that he knows what he's doing. “Does that bother you?”

Of course it should bother you. It's a level of control that's appalling even to your anxiously-attached ass. But it’s also making you wetter right now. You try not to cry—from misery or sexual frustration, you're not sure.

“Well, yeah. Come on, Suo—even you should know that's really weird of you.”

“I do,” he says, smiling like he isn't admitting to deranged behaviour. “But how else am I supposed to know you're safe? Or even aside from being safe—if your needs are being met.” His hand runs up and down your thigh before settling at the hem of your dress. “I wouldn't want you to go unsatisfied. Who knows what kind of people you'd seek out if that happened.”

You actively stop yourself from putting your face in your hands. The gall of him saying this after forcing you into extended celibacy is beyond words, especially as you're being forced to rub up on him, effectively ruining every attempt you've made not to think about him sexually for the past several years. There are many materially consequential reasons for your decision to not fuck Suo—you should not be soaked through your panties, your thighs sticky with need, as you sit on his lap.

“That's,” you say lamely, “not very normal of you.” Trying for a less sensual conversation, you go for the reliable topic Sakura’s romance radar: “Also, if satisfaction was your concern, why did you choose Sakura? I love that guy a lot, but he has literally no experience. And I think he'd blue-screen trying to keep a friend with benefits. You know he can't handle a fuckbuddy.”

You are not trying to be mean. What Sakura objectively needs for his first time is someone sweet and emotionally competent and, most importantly, not an absolute freak like you. This is a failure of your character, not his.

You can hear Suo’s smile in his reply: “I don't think you're giving him enough credit.”

“He has the social skills of a feral cat.”

Suo genuinely laughs. “Sure, when he first came to Makochi. But he's much better now. Plus, you have no room to talk. I mean”—his breath sweeps over your ear—“you used to be pretty wild yourself. I've just domesticated you is all… though you've been misbehaving lately.”

His words do something horrible to you. Trying to distract yourself from the mounting sexual tension, you turn to him to give him a biting retort, but you're abruptly stopped by the look in his eye. Distinctly hungry and unrepentant in its desire, his gaze roams openly and shamelessly along the curves of your body.

You feel like you're being eaten alive.

Plenty of customers have looked at you in such a way when you wear this outfit, but none have had this effect on you—which is to say, making you clench immediately.

You try not to cry. You actually will cum on the spot at this rate, and you don't think you could be subtle about it. You're barely keeping it together right now, with how your pussy keeps fluttering and dripping. Coupled with the way that the alcohol is melting the edges of your self-control, you're shocked you haven't at least moaned yet.

In a last ditch effort to save your friendship, as well as your rental (house arrest) situation, you slap a hand over his mouth.

“Stop that.”

Suo laughs. He grabs your wrist, lifts your palm away. “Why?”

Why? Because if you keep talking like that, I'll bend over and start begging you to fuck me! you think. But even in your inebriated, horny state, it feels like a poor idea to admit this aloud. You end up saying, “Hostesses aren't paid to flirt like this. Strictly speaking, we’re paid to be conversational partners.” You frown at him. “You're breaking a lot of club rules right now.”

This reprimand backfires on you, as you are suddenly filled with intrusive thoughts of breaking every single rule in this establishment with Suo, including the ones preventing you from climbing on top of him and riding him raw. You squirm at the thought, wishing you could close your legs rather than making a mess of your underwear (now a lost cause), but Suo’s grip stays firm on your waist.

He, himself, is unbothered by your scolding. “Okay,” he says simply. “Then I won't speak to you as a hostess. I want to speak to you, seriously, as a friend.”

His smile is so disarming, it makes you nervous. But he sounds earnest enough for you to be curious, and anyway, you're desperate for something to distract you from your wet cunt.

“Alright,” you acquiesce, “What do you have to say, as a friend?”

“I just have one question.”

“Sure. Shoot.”

His hand comes to rest in your thigh again. He leans in, breath so hot against your ear that your heart jumps.

“I can accept that you wanted to see customers just to satisfy your urges. But tell me why you didn't come to me first.”

You freeze up. Look at him, wide-eyed.

“Wh-what?”

Suo just smiles. Looks so fucking innocent you wonder if you misheard, but his voice is sharp when he replies: “Let me put it another way. Why have we never slept together?”

For some reason, you’ve never thought that he'd ask you this question point blank, even though you've asked it to yourself many times. It takes you several moments to piece together a response, during which Suo’s expression turns distinctly wicked. A sign that he smells blood.

“Why would you think we would have?” you ask carefully.

“Because we’ve both clearly thought about it. You especially.”

You try to keep a straight face. “No I haven't. I don't know what you're talking about.” You raise a brow. “How would you even know?”

“Because,” he says, hand inching up your thigh, “you’re so wet that I can feel it.”

You're mortified.

Shame floods your body, first because of the accusation, and then because you know it's true. You were tipsy enough not to think about this, but now—sobering up from sheer panic— you're acutely aware of how you've soaked through the fabric beneath you. Something that Suo had certainly known, and chose to encourage.

What a horrible man.

When you don't reply, he tilts his head. “Don't tell me you haven't noticed. Do you want me to show you?”

His hand is moving so slowly, you know he's giving you another out. You could easily get off his lap. You could even slap him and call him a sleazy drunk and grouse at him to go home. You could forgive him in the morning for coming onto you and say he'd obviously made an inebriated mistake, as opposed to a very calculated decision. Your friendship would stay mostly intact. His grip on you might tighten, but that would be fine. You would still get to stay with him.

And that's all you've ever wanted. Just to stay with him.

But you're so wet, so empty, so aching. You want to be touched. You want to be touched by Suo, and only by Suo. You want to be fucked by him, to be owned by him, to be ruined by him. You’ve wanted it so badly and so long that you can't even remember when it started—only that you want it to end.

So instead of moving away, you sit there and endure the humiliation of getting your cunt inspected by him.

Suo hums as he opens your legs. You suppress a whimper as a finger moves along your folds, at the noise it makes as it runs through your slick. “Look, you’re so wet,” he murmurs into your ear. He finds your clit—swollen, neglected, and you whimper as he starts to draw slow, lazy circles around it. “Poor thing.”

“It’s only because you had me grinding on you the whole night,” you say through gritted teeth. “It doesn't—ngh—doesn’t mean I’ve been wanting to fuck you.”

You sound pissed enough that you'd convince anyone else, but you know, even without seeing his face, that Suo can tell you're bullshitting.

“You’re not a good liar,” he remarks. A fine teacher even when humiliating people, Suo can't help but add, “If you have to tell a lie, at least come up with a believable one.”

“What makes it unbelievable?” you reply, words clipped off by a sharp inhale as he starts rubbing your pussy.

“Well,” he starts nonchalantly, as if he isn't toying with your cunt, “after you were targeted in that succession conflict, I put hidden cameras in the area, and also in our suite.”

Your eyes go wide. Even in your aroused state, the implications are making you panic. “You—you what?”

“It was for security purposes,” he dismisses casually, as if he's not admitting to a serious invasion of privacy. “Only near the front door and the common areas. I just wanted to catch intruders and any suspicious behaviour from my men. But imagine my surprise”—you feel his fingers start to press into your cunt—“when I instead caught you fucking yourself on the couch and moaning my name.”

You’re mortified. Humiliated. Mind racing with every instance you were horny and stupid enough to touch yourself in a common space. You think about yelling at him about the cameras, but then you feel two fingers sinking into you, and now you aren't thinking about much at all.

Your mind goes blank as you're stretched open by him. Your cunt is so wet, so empty, but the feeling still makes you whine. Your brow furrows, and you give him a pleading look. Slowly, please.

“Don't worry,” he says in a soothing tone, “I know you can handle this. I've seen you take much bigger. Though”—he shifts, pulls you so you're in between his legs, and now you can feel the length of him against you, hard and aching and huge, what the fuck—“maybe not big enough.”

You tighten around his fingers as he grinds against you. You want him inside you so badly, it hurts. Suo laughs when he feels your desperation, and he sounds so amused that you can't help but feel ashamed. But even more than shame, you feel aroused. You take the rest of his fingers easily, down to the knuckle.

“What the fuck, Suo,” you eventually manage through your panting, though not with much bite. “You weren't—ahh—meant to see any of that.”

“Sorry,” he says, sounding deeply unapologetic. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn't watch much, and I deleted all of it. I didn't need to see that to know you have feelings for me.”

You tense. “What feelings?” you ask, and Suo stops. He pulls his fingers out of you—you breathe sharply at the loss—and manhandles you until you're straddling his lap. Forces you to look at him, into his one eye. It's knife-sharp, brutal, but familiar. You don't struggle, nor do you feel uneasy.

But you do feel like prey.

“Do you remember,” he begins, voice light, “how our master always talked about how important it is to engage with each other’s feelings?”

Fuck.

“No,” you blurt out, and Suo laughs.

“Of course not,” he plays along. “You were always so terrible at it. But I've been doing a bad job too, lately. So”—he reaches beneath your dress, hooks your thong with his fingers—“I wanted to have an honest conversation with you.”

He smiles at you. Actually looks kind and even sounds earnest. What a fucking sociopath. You allow him to slide your underwear down your legs, kicking them off. Now your pussy is completely bare to him, and you can hear the way his breath stops as he touches it again. Three of his fingers push in this time, and you pant openly at the stretch, leaning against him as your body trembles from the stretch. He flexes his fingers experimentally, watching your reactions—your whimpers, your sighs, the way your eyelashes flutter when he brushes that one spot inside you.

“I’ve always had feelings for you,” he starts, using that nonchalant, delicate tone—the specific one that suggests danger, “and I know you’re too smart to have missed that. I’d be fine with it if you didn't return them, but you do.”

“I don't,” you protest, and then his fingers curl and press into your g-spot. You're cut off immediately, gasping at the sudden wave of heat in your belly.

A hand comes up to your chin. He forces you to look at him. “I said I wanted to have an honest conversation, remember.”

“I–I am being honest, I—” Your voice breaks as he starts pumping his fingers. It's slow, gentle, but precise. Tension builds in you at an alarming rate, your thighs getting as slick and messy as his hand. You bury your face into the crook of his shoulder, breathe in his cologne and gasp into his skin, and your mind goes hazy from the euphoria of his touch. Sure, you've hugged Suo before, been held by him before, and god knows you've been touched like this by a ton of other people before—but it feels different now. It feels different when it's Suo who's touching you, different when you’re this close to him while he's drawing all this pleasure out of you. When one hand feels so good inside you and the other one is holding you so intimately.

“Suo,” you whimper, overwhelmed by hot tension in your belly, “I-I’m close, I’m close, oh fuck—

He stops.

Before you can comprehend what's happening, he’s withdrawing his fingers, and all the heat in you is melting away. Your orgasm lost, you come down from your high—nerves frayed, emotions taut.

“Suo,” you say, “what the fuck?”

He gives you a smile. It almost looks nice. “I'm not letting you cum until you tell me the truth.”

You’re going to cry.

You're so wet, so empty, so desperate, and now you feel oddly afraid. You don't like the way he's staring you down. You don't like this line of questioning, this bullshit of engaging with other people's feelings. You’ve never liked it. But you need—need—him to fuck you. You need his fingers inside you and you need to cry into his neck while you finish.

You say, very quietly, “Please, Suo.”

“Please, what?”

It's funny. You've performed begging and crying and submission for countless clients, sometimes during annoyingly rough sessions. You've done it for years. But nothing has ever felt so humiliating as this moment, when you ask your best friend, in the smallest voice possible, “Please touch me.”

“No. Not until you start being honest with me.”

Suo's mouth curls at the devastated look you give him. You hardly even notice that he's adjusting you, having you straddle his thigh again—this time, facing him. You don't register it until your cunt is pressed into the wet spot you left earlier and he's saying, “You can move if you'd like. But I'm not touching you.”

“You’re fucking horrible,” you say with all your heart, but your pussy is throbbing and you're desperate for release. So you finally do what you were desperately trying to stop yourself from doing the whole night—you start grinding on him. Like a fucking animal in heat. It's embarrassing, especially because his leg feels so good against you. The friction on your pussy makes you pant, your eyes squeezing shut as your clit finally gets some pressure. It makes up for the way he’s looking at you, which is sly, handsome, and rage-inducing all at once.

“You really do need to be touched,” he remarks softly. “You said your customers satisfied you. Was that true? Did they properly fuck you?”

“N-no,” you gasp. Your mind feels so cottony now that you're getting some relief. You can barely think, and definitely not enough to lie. “It was—it was—fuck, I never came.”

He hums, satisfied. “There—see? Telling the truth isn't so hard. You can do it again.”

He sounds so condescending. You would ordinarily hate it, but for some reason, it's going straight to your pussy right now, making you drip so much you know you've ruined his pants. You’re getting close, too, just by rubbing yourself on his leg. It doesn't feel quite as good as when his fingers were in you, but it’s something. And it’s making it hard to focus on what he's saying.

“It’s fine if you can't be honest about your feelings,” Suo continues. “Let's assume you're telling the truth, and all you want to do is fuck me. Why haven't you?”

You try to answer him, but you can't. You're too focused on the roll of your hips against his leg. There's too much tension, too much heat. You melt against him again, breathing heavily into his shoulder as you tighten around nothing. His hands come to your waist, as if grounding you, and somehow this makes everything feel even better. You start panting, babbling, I'm close, I'm getting close, Suo, Suo—

His grip tightens, and he stops you in place. You cry in frustration—no tears, but the noise you make is broken.

“Answer my question,” he says. You feel a hand glide along your bare skin, stopping at your inner thigh. “Answer me and I'll touch you.”

“Okay,” you say, as desperate as you are distressed. “Okay, I'll do anything. Anything.”

“Good.” He sounds so pleased.

You put your arms around his neck, for no reason other than you want to. Lifting your hips, you part your legs for him, and you feel so relieved at just the touch of his hand that you sigh—even though all he's doing is running a finger along your slick folds.

You shudder as his fingers play with your sex. Lean your head on his shoulder as he starts to move. You’re so desperate that you start grinding against his hand, whining for him.

“Well, then,” he murmurs. “Tell me why you didn't come to me. This is all you wanted, isn't it?” He rolls your clit between two fingers, making you squirm. “Just to get off, right? I could have done that. You'd have enjoyed it more.”

“It”—your eyelids flutter shut—“it would have been too complicated. Y-you’re my boss, and I pay rent to y-you, and we’ve been friends for so long, I didn't want to make it weird—”

Suo delivers a sharp slap to your pussy.

The contact is so sudden that you yelp. It only stings a little, but it makes your clit ache. The noise it makes is so wet, so filthy, telling of your desperation. And to your shame—even though you have never once in your life enjoyed being handled roughly by your customers—your cunt starts leaking in response.

You whimper, about to burst from frustration. You need to be touched so bad. You need to be touched by him so bad, and you need to cum on his cock or else you'll lose your fucking mind.

“Suo,” you complain, or beg, and you don't even realise that you're tearing up until he swipes his thumb under your eye.

“Try again,” he says gently, but not kindly. “The truth this time, and then I'll make you cum. Why didn't you come to me first? These past few months, or any other time?”

You don't answer him. “Suo, please—” And he moves back so that you're no longer leaning against him. Your lip trembles at the loss of the warmth, which somehow feels worse than the loss of your orgasm. An actual tear rolls down your cheek, and he doesn't wipe this one away.

“Answer me,” he says firmly. Instead of replying, you try to reach for him—wanting to be pressed against his body again, wanting him to draw pleasure out of yours again—but he stills you with his hands.

You feel devastated.

Out of horny, emotional desperation, and an all-consuming need to be fucked, you admit, “I was just scared!”

This is the worst mistake you've ever made.

The minute the words dislodge from your throat, you feel yourself choke up. You don't know why. All you know is that you suddenly can't hold back your tears from your sexual frustration, which for some reason is starting to feel distinctly like a non-sexual kind of angst, which is also strangely painful for your chest.

Because now that you've said it out loud, you can't ignore it.

You want to hide. You want to crawl out of his lap and run out of the establishment. Surely, the mamasan will forgive you for leaving a shift with such a frightening and horrible man, who is currently trying to extort your feelings out of you. But Suo’s grip is solid and unforgiving on you, and all you can do is squirm.

“Scared of what?” Suo asks. His voice has gone soft. Actually soft—not in a way that suggests danger, but a way that suggests you're loved. It makes you tremble.

His arms circle you, and one rubs at your back. It makes you relax very slightly. Or at the very least, it makes you stop wanting to bolt.

“What were you scared of?” he prompts again.

A feeling of defeat washes over you. Suo will figure you out sooner or later. He always does. So you tell him, very quietly, “I was scared that—that you'd leave me.”

You realise that you just stuttered. You stuttered because you're crying. You're actually, genuinely crying. Not from sexual frustration, but because you're just frustrated in general. And miserable. You've been chronically miserable for most of your life, and that misery has had nowhere to go until now.

You press your face into Suo’s shoulder, and he lets you. You breathe deeply in an attempt to stop crying, his cologne washing over you. It's nice, but what feels most comforting is just the scent of him. You're used to it from the days before he'd ever thought about using a fragrance, let alone a fragrance that would bankrupt the average person. It's calming, even when overlayed with ambergris and vanilla. Familiar.

Your breathing evens out a little—but only a little.

“Why would I leave you?” His voice is so kind, patient. More tears bead on your lashes.

“Because you might not want me anymore.” You sound so fragile. Shit, you are fragile. You can't stop the splintering feeling in you, the same one that ate at you two months ago when you thought he was going to leave you. “You could get tired of me or resent me or get bored with me. You could—you could want to throw me away, for no reason. Or—” You breathe in sharply, clinging to him harder.

“Or?”

“Or you could die—you joined the yakuza, so you could die. Why did you do that?” An actual sob leaves you. His shirt is getting wet. You ruined so many of his silk changshan like this in the past, when your boyfriend cheated on you and when your parents kicked you out and when you slept with your fifth customer.

And when your master died.

“I'm still so fucking mad at you for it,” you bite out around your tears. “If you got fucking killed—oh my god, I can't even think about it. I can't—I couldn't take it if—if I kissed you, and we had sex, and then I didn't have you anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re the only thing I have.” You squeeze your eyes shut, a terrible realisation hitting you. “And…”

“And?”

“And,” you say, voice breaking, “I think because I love you?”

You know it as soon as you voice it. You do love him. Not just platonically, but in the way where you want to hold his hand and kiss him and marry him. In the way a miserable nineteen year old girl is so in love with her miserable best friend that she refuses to leave him despite how terrifying he’s becoming. You loved him in this way before you realised you wanted to have sex with him, and even after that, you loved him so much that it didn't matter that he wasn't having sex with you.

You love him so much it disgusts you.

You want to hide, but Suo forces you to look at him. He brushes away your tears, cups your face. The Pavlovian response takes over: your heart rate slows, and you calm down.

“There,” he says gently. “That wasn't so bad, was it?”

He’s wrong. You bet he knows he's wrong. That was objectively one of the worst experiences of your life. You feel wrung out, tenderised. You never thought you'd say any of that. You're not sure you knew most of that.

But in Suo’s arms, plied open with his words and his hands, you actually find yourself shaking your head. You lean into the touch of his palm.

“I love you,” he continues, his tone so authoritative and calm that it leaves no room for doubt, “probably to the point that it should scare you. Do you understand that?”

“Yes,” you say quietly.

“And we won't be separated. I won't allow anything to take you away from me. Do you understand that too?”

You make a noise, halfway between a relieved sigh and another sob. This declaration should not be a surprise from a man who’s effectively locked you up in his house. Still—your heart feels so light when you hear someone say, for the first time in your life, that they’ll stay with you no matter what. It's like Suo has just unearthed a weight that you didn't know you'd been carrying.

“I’ll try,” you reply, voice small.

“Good.” He strokes your cheek. “Do you want to keep going?”

It’s absurd. You just cried and confessed something terrifying. With anyone else, this would be an experience so horrifying that you'd leave right now and never come back. Your sexual desire should not just be gone, but permanently erased. At the very least, you shouldn't feel the slightest bit horny.

But somehow, being gutted by Suo hasn't left you feeling bad. It's left you feeling lighter. Kind of like you've been purged. You feel exhausted, but in a malleable way. Dazed and relieved to be in his lap. Your thighs are still embarrassingly sticky, heart still embarrassingly wobbly, and you just heard him say that he loves you.

Now you want to hear him say it while he's cumming inside you.

“Yeah,” you admit immediately, pathetically. You sniffle.

“You're sure?” Another stroke. “I want to hear you say it clearly. What do you want to do?”

Your dignity is gone. “I want you to fuck me.”

He smiles. A fond hum leaves him. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and you feel a flutter in your belly. “I'll take care of you now.”

He kisses you this time, before he touches you. On the neck, on your jaw. You bare your nape to him, shivering at the feeling of his lips on your jugular, at his nipping teeth on your skin. You realise he's leaving marks, and with each one, you shudder. It feels so intimate. You're on a rooftop bar, in a skanky hostessing dress, crying and strung out—but this is the closest thing you've ever gotten to one of your fantasies about him. Not the nasty ones that you think about when you're home by yourself, but the ones you think of when you're in bed with various salarymen. The ones where you get to lie with him in bed and press your lips to his.

“Suo,” you start.

“Hayato,” he corrects you. “You're my fiancée now, remember? We should be on a first name basis.”

Your stomach flips. “Hayato,” you try again, breathless. “Please.”

He takes a moment to reply, busy sucking another mark into your skin. “Please, what?”

You hesitate. Suo pulls back, looking at you. You whine, feeling shy all of a sudden. You flirt for a living and yet you feel embarrassed about your request. It's humiliating.

“Please, what?” he repeats. His mouth is curled in a smile, and you can't tell whether it's endeared or entertained. “Please let you cum? Please fuck you?”

“Please kiss me,” you say, in a small voice.

Suo pauses.

“What?”

“Please kiss me,” you beg. Close to tears again, for some reason you don't know. You think it surprises him as much as it does you.

It takes him a moment to recover, but when he does, he gives you a look that’s fucking ravenous.

His thumbs away the wetness from your eyes. “You're so cute sometimes. Did you know that?”

You flush. Plenty of customers have called you cute, but none have had you feeling so indignant nor shy.

“I’m not,” you reply, “and stop that.”

“But it's true. And I want you to know it.”

Suo presses his mouth to yours before you can respond. You're so eager for him that you part your lips immediately. Your instinct is to make your first kiss with him messy and desperate, but he’s in full control, and he’s taking his time. His tongue is careful and precise. Full of intention. His lips are slow, languid, and lazy, like he's savouring the taste of you. A hand plays with the strap of your dress. You feel him slide it off your shoulder—the other one quickly follows—but you’re so absorbed in his kiss, you hardly pay attention.

You're vaguely aware of the breeze against your bare chest. One of his hands moving up, feeling out your curves. He hums into your mouth when his fingers ghost over your nipples, and they harden under his touch.

“Suo,” you whine as he teases them, and he pinches one of them, watching as you squirm.

“Hayato,” he corrects you promptly, and you give him a worn, teary look.

“Hayato.”

“Yes?”

“I need more,” you say quietly.

He smiles, clearly enjoying your desperation. “Be patient,” he teases you. “I’m getting there.”

He kisses a line along your jaw, down your neck. Traces your collarbone with the path of his mouth, works his way down to your breasts. At the same time you feel the heat of his tongue on your nipple, his hand reaches between your legs. You're so wet already that he doesn't need to work you open again—just sinks his fingers inside you until you're sighing for him.

You discover that when he's not antagonising you, Suo is frighteningly efficient with pleasuring you. He learns quickly how you like your tits played with, and how to fuck you so well with his fingers until you're gushing around them and keening. He said he'd take care of you, but you think he's mostly forcing all this pleasure from your body for his own enjoyment. There's no other explanation for how he keeps bringing you to the edge and pulling you back, swallowing each of your whines and complaints with his mouth. The only time he isn't kissing you is when you're begging—and you don't miss the way his breathing deepens every time you do.

But no matter how much you beg, he isn’t letting you cum.

“Look at the mess you're making,” he murmurs as he plays with your cunt. You're sitting between his legs again, your back against his chest. You can feel the length of his cock against your ass, and you hear how his breath hitches every time you squirm against it. Except for that one tell, he sounds completely unaffected by what he's doing—forced you to open your legs wide for him, spread your glistening folds to tease you. The leather beneath your ass is wet, ruined by your need.

“Hayato,” you whine.

“Just a little longer,” he promises, “and then I'll let you cum.”

Your mind is so fogged with pleasure at this point that you can't focus on anything other than Suo’s touch. You’ve actually forgotten where you are—not a truly private space, but part of a club. The girls would normally only come up if you put in an order, but you haven't for a while now.

Long enough for someone to check on you without warning.

You tense as soon as you hear the door open. You recognize the server—she knows you well, by face, stage name, and real name. Your eyes go wide as she calls for you. You try to sit up, close your legs, but Suo grabs one of your thighs and forces it open.

“Suo, wait—”

You whimper, incapable of words when his fingers push into you again. He starts fucking you with them, and in earnest this time—curling his fingers until they're pushing into your g-spot, doing it over and over and over. Your eyes roll back and you stop struggling, and Suo takes the opportunity to touch you with his other hand too, playing with your clit. A strangled moan leaves you as the heat in your gut ratchets up. Pleasure swells in your belly; you feel like you're going to burst.

“Suo,” you cry, tears pricking your eyes, “wait, wait, my coworker—wait, I think—I think I'm gonna—”

“Go ahead,” he says into your ear, voice silky, and he pushes against your sweet spot in a way that gives you no choice but to obey him.

You cum so hard that you squirt all over the seat. Your whole body is wracked with intense pleasure—hips bucking violently, legs twitching, crying so loudly and shamelessly that your coworker naturally hears. She catches you spread wide open in Suo’s lap, his fingers deep in your messy, swollen cunt as you drench them.

Her tray clatters to the floor.

Fighting the mindless haze that your body is in, you glance at the other girl, whose hand is over her mouth. She looks appalled. She’s going to yell at you. But then you then watch, in real time, as her eyes travel to your customer’s face and she realises who he is. If she was red when she saw the two of you, she's now a pale white.

“Did you come to check on us?” Suo asks. He sounds amused. She flinches at his voice, and actually takes a step backward. “We’re fine for now. We’ll order something in a bit, and call you up here as usual.”

“O-okay,” she says, voice high and tense. “I—I’ll leave you two, then. Please—please enjoy yourself, sir. We'll be available in case you require any other services.” And she walks away briskly, almost in a run. She doesn't even bother to stop the expressly forbidden act that you're engaged in.

Once she’s gone, Suo allows you some dignity. He pulls his fingers out of you, lets you catch your breath.

“Oops,” he says. “It’s too bad they caught us. I suppose they won't want to keep you on as an employee, since you broke such an important rule.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed. Your emotional and sexual pliability quickly dissipates, replaced by disbelief.

“You—you did that on purpose,” you say between pants, too fucked out to be truly angry, but still appalled.

Suo raises a brow, gives you an innocent look. “Did I? I was just making you cum, like you've been begging all night. It was just unfortunate timing.” He then smiles, which makes him look incredibly kind despite the apparent sadism of his person. “But it's fine. They're going to fire you for this, but you know my club will always take you back.”

You close your eyes and groan. “You’re horrible.”

“I am, aren't I?” Suo puts his arms around you, kisses you on the shoulder, his voice getting low. “But this is a better arrangement, don't you think? You won't need to see customers this way. Every time you need relief, you can come upstairs and I'll give you my cock instead.” He grinds against you, letting you feel how hard he is, and you whimper. He laughs, probably entertained at how desperate you sound. “Or maybe I'll just make you take it whenever I feel like it. I think at the end of every shift makes sense, doesn't it? Since that's how often you've been touching yourself on the couch.”

“S-suo.”

“It’s Hayato now, remember. What is it, dear?”

He sounds so smug, mocking you. You should be furious. But in your fucked out state, all you can focus on is the idea of being forced to take Suo's cock every night. Despite already being ruined, your pussy starts throbbing again. You squirm and press your thighs together, trying to get it to stop—you’re so fucking tired—and you bleakly realise that you can't control your body’s reactions around him. You're getting wet again. It makes you want to cry.

“Hayato,” you whimper, on the verge of tears.

“Ah, you addressed me properly. Good.” He’s so satisfied. “What is it?”

“I…”

“You?”

“I”—your voice is so small and embarrassed, you can hardly believe it—“I want you to fuck me.”

He feigns shock, as if he wasn't actively provoking this. “Really? But you just came.” A hand prods between your legs. You obediently spread them for him, and he checks your pussy with two of his fingers. You moan a little at the intrusion, but there's no resistance at all.

Your cunt, still dripping, tightens around him, and he laughs softly.

“You really do need a cock in you. Who knew you had such a needy pussy.” He curls his fingers. Probably feeling the way it makes you gush, delighting in the gasp it draws out of you. “No wonder you have to use that toy every day.”

You're about to die of embarrassment. “Hayato. Please just fuck me.”

Suo turns you so that you can look at him. He’s wearing a kind, benevolent face when he says, “No.”

“...what?”

“I'm not going to give you my cock.” He hums, contemplative. “Not for a while, I think.”

“B-but,” you say, genuinely upset, “but you were just talking about doing that at work.”

“Sure—after we get married. It's only proper, don’t you think?”

“What?” Your eyes are wide in disbelief. “You—you just made me cum with your fingers. In a public space.”

“Yes. But that's different from letting you have my cock. It wouldn't be gentlemanly of me to do that before we’re wedded.” He can't keep the amusement out of his voice as he bullies you. “I'm sure you can wait until the summer, right? Since that's the season you chose for us. August, I think you told Nirei.”

“Hayato—”

“Actually,” he muses, easily sliding a third finger into you, making your voice clip off in a whimper, “I think you shouldn’t be allowed to have anything in you until then. Except for my fingers and tongue, of course. But no toys, and no other men either. That definitely wouldn't be proper.”

“I'm going to,” you say spitefully—and tearfully. “If you don't fuck me right now, I will sleep with other people.”

“I don't think you want to find out the consequences if you do.”

“How would you even—ngh—know?”

“Good question.” He starts pumping his fingers, and to your horror, your cunt needily swallows them with each motion, your body as desperate as he's been saying. “I guess I'll need to check your pussy every night. See if it's been stretched out by someone else’s cock. Maybe upstairs in the lounge at the end of each night, so I'll know that you haven't fucked a customer during a shift. Clearly, it's not impossible that you would.”

You try not to sob. Not only are his words utterly humiliating, they're making you wetter. After fucking so many people in so many ways, you didn't know it was possible for you to feel this much shame during sex—but then again, shaming people is one of Suo’s specialties.

You give him the teariest look possible, because by now you've figured out that he likes seeing you cry. Sadistic motherfucker. You're happy to use it to your advantage though.

He gets that hungry look in his eye again. “Please, Hayato,” you beg, voice trembling with need, “I want more. I thought I was your beautiful wife already.” You grind your ass against his cock, and he inhales sharply. “Don't you wanna cum in your wife’s pussy?”

Suo stops, deeply affected—just as you guessed he'd be. After making you his fake wife in both his criminal life and his civilian one, it's painfully obvious that the man is obsessed with marrying you. You'd make fun of him if you weren't so horny. Or humbled.

He only allows himself speechlessness for a second. He hums soon after, delicately wiping the tears out of your eyes. “You've been good enough that I guess I can reward you. I won't fuck you, but”—he shifts away, and you can hear his pants unzipping—“I’m sure you'll enjoy yourself anyway.”

Suo wasn't lying earlier. His cock is bigger than any toy you've ever used. It's pretty, too. Curved and long and flushed at the head. Glistening with prespend, which has pearled up at the tip. You think you might be salivating. For a minute, you contemplate asking if you can feel it in your throat, but then Suo’s lying down and moving you on top of him. When his cock nudges at your folds, you can’t help your excitement. You squirm, trying to sink onto his length.

His grip tightens on your waist, stopping you.

You’re about to whine at him about this, but he doesn't give you the chance. “If you try to ride me,” he says, in a voice so cold that you know he's not joking, “I'm not touching you until we’re married, and I'm not letting you touch yourself either.”

“...”

With anyone else you'd call bullshit, but you know that Suo is both crazy and petty enough to actually achieve this.

“Okay.” You sound and feel mollified. “I'll behave.”

He smiles. “Good,” he says cheerfully. “Just stay like that, then. I’ll take care of you.”

You listen to him, mostly because you're incredibly excited about getting pussy inspections and you'll be devastated if it doesn't happen. And you don't expect it to be a big deal, anyway. While your sex drive has been a constant source of grief for you throughout your life, you don't really have problems controlling any specific impulses in bed when you truly need to. You’re used to giving your customers whatever they want and, if you're lucky, getting off from it. You figure this will be the same.

You find out very quickly that it isn't.

You need to stay still. You can’t sink down on him. Two easy orders that are extraordinarily difficult when Suo is the one beneath you. You have to actively stop your hips from moving when you feel the silky head of his cock press into your folds, which are still dripping with your slick. Suo’s breath hitches when he runs the tip along your opening, drawing wet noises every time his cock head catches on your needy hole, smearing his precum all over it. All you want is to push back on him and let your pussy swallow his cock. You’re aching for it, and you know he is too. If you sank down on him now, he'd lose control and fuck you raw until he was cumming inside you. And then he'd probably keep going after that, not letting you move until you were stuffed full and dripping with his spend. Both of you know it.

But you don't do that. You're good for him. You sigh, just trying to enjoy the feeling of his length rubbing against you. How he's twitching and throbbing against you, how he wants as equally much to be inside you—but pulls back every time. Your mind goes a little fuzzy with the drawn out, low hum of pleasure, and you close your eyes.

Then he starts pushing into you.

“H-Hayato?” You whimper at the intrusion, at being made to take something so thick without warning. “I thought you weren't gonna—”

“I'm not,” he says. His breathing is heavier, his words strained, but his voice is still commanding when he says, “Don’t move.”

Suo doesn't give you the whole thing, just the tip. It is much harder to control yourself like this—when you can feel yourself getting stretched by the head of his cock, already so fat and heavy, but you don't get filled up by it. It makes you aware of how empty you are, and how wet you're getting. You bury your face into his neck and make a noise that's both tearful and pathetic.

It's not acting when you whine, in a watery, miserable way, “Please, Hayato. I need your cum in me.”

It's probably the crying that gets him. He inhales sharply, thrusting maybe a little deeper than intended. You groan at the extra inch of cock, eyes rolling back, and can't help the way your pussy tightens and drips, trying to suck him in.

“Fuck,” he says, and then he pulls out.

He lays you flat on your back. Before you can get so much as a word out, he's between your legs and pressing his cock against your entrance. For possibly the happiest moment of your life, you think Suo is going to fuck you—but instead he starts pushing the slick head of his cock right against your neglected clit.

You aren't going to complain.

You whimper as he starts rubbing against your sex, leaving his prespend all over your swollen bud. It makes you squirm, grinding yourself against it, and you press your legs together to get some more pressure for the both of you. Soon his cock is sliding between your thighs, getting them all sticky with his prespend. You can feel the length of him hot and slick against your folds, heavy and throbbing.

You've never cum like this before. It was never enough stimulation when your customers made you do this, which nearly all of them have. But the pressure on your clit and on your folds is shockingly intense as the two of you move, enough to make you whimper as a familiar tension builds. It's not as overwhelming as when his fingers were inside you, but it's enough for you to start panting at the tension in your belly. You can hear Suo’s breath picking up as you start to whine, and he watches you, almost predatorial, as another orgasm crashes over you. You moan his name as you cum, squeezing a few more tears out of your eyes.

He stares at your flustered, wet face as he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance again, fisting himself as it flutters and drips in the aftershock of your orgasm. Suo’s been hard for so long, for the whole time he's teased and bullied you—you aren't surprised at how close he already is. Especially not when you start talking about how much you need his cum in you, how empty your pussy feels without it, how badly you want your husband to fill you up. All with your mascara smeared and your lip trembling, a sight that makes him throb.

Suo groans as he finally cums. You can feel his cock twitching, warmth spurting out onto your folds, and then into your pussy as he thrusts shallowly into you. You pull him down needily as he fills you, and he indulges you with a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss.

When he pulls out, you can feel his cum drip out of you, all the way down to the couch. You make a happy noise at the mess he's made of your hole, giving him a lovestruck, dreamy expression.

“You should do that every night after you're done checking my pussy,” you sigh.

Suo’s mouth curls, and breathes out a kind of laugh. He holds your face, and one of his tassels brush against the shell of your ear as he presses his forehead to yours. “I’ll do it if you're good for me.”

“I’ll be on my best behaviour until our wedding night,” you promise, voice affectionate.

Suo gives you a fond look. His expression is so sentimental. You think he’s going to say something sweet.

“Alright,” he replies. “Then be good for me and keep the rest of that inside you, okay? Let’s not make a mess of these floors. I don't want to get blacklisted from this club.”

You open and close your mouth, completely speechless.

“You're fucking horrible,” you say with all your heart, and he laughs and kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you. He doesn't stop until you're placated and horny again.

Suo takes his sweet time pushing his cum into you as deeply as possible, saying that it's to make sure you don't lose any of it, but really so he can draw another orgasm out of you. Knowing that the mamasan might take pity on you and think that you were coerced into degrading sexual acts by a terrifying yakuza client, he makes sure to order a drink beforehand, calling up a server. (I don't want to be a bad patron, he hums as he looks at the tablet, and I said I'd get you to the number 1 ranking, right?) It subsequently looks, sounds, and is completely consensual when you're found pulling at Suo’s hair, keening as he fingers his cum into you while sucking on your clit.

This leaves you with no hope of continued employment on all of Keisei Street.

To add insult to injury, you do make a mess of the floors, despite Suo’s conscientious efforts to avoid this—though it's not as bad as the one you left on the couch. You also can't find your thong anywhere, which you guess is something else that the mamasan won’t appreciate when she finds it. Still, for the rest of the night, everyone shows Suo nothing but the utmost respect and highest quality customer service. They even ask how he found your company and if he has any feedback for you. He praises your conversational skills, karaoke abilities, and how capable you were in catering to his many needs. He also lets them know that you'll be resigning.

Hanzo and Shuuhei are waiting to pick you up, bringing the Rolls Royce with the privacy suite. This time, Suo doesn't use it to interrogate you; he instead uses it to kiss you and tease you and discuss wedding plans. If it'll be indoors or outdoors. If you'll have a big reception or a small one. If it'll be a traditional wedding, or if you’ll want a Chinese one like the one your master would have maybe liked to see. You settle on having a Shinto ceremony and a Chinese-style reception. Having been raised Chinese, whenever Suo imagined marrying during his teenage years, you were always in a red qipao. His master even once told him that if he managed to win your heart, he'd organise a tea ceremony and act in the role of Suo’s father.

After disclosing these facts (the first of which makes your heart weak, and the second of which leaves it aching), he asks about any long-standing things you've always wanted to do with him as a couple. If you had any silly or indulgent daydreams about your future with him, and what they were like.

“I don't know,” you admit. “I guess after you applied to teacher’s college, I liked the idea of marrying you, and doing all the domestic things you talked about. Though you were just joking at the time.”

You don't really expect him to remember much about this particular line of teasing. Sure, the man is currently obsessed with marrying you, and maybe he daydreamed about it a little bit when he was younger—but he mostly treated the idea as a funny joke when he was a teenager. All of the teasing has probably blurred together for him over the years. Certainly, it has for you.

But you've never been able to forget this particular memory. It’s one of those small, inconsequential moments that you find yourself incapable of letting go to this day. You loved hearing him talk about getting married, even though it hurt immensely that it was probably just teasing. You loved it because you wanted it. You wanted Suo to teach people because you knew he was good at it and it would make him genuinely happy. You wanted to stop working in the red light district and make a nice and safe home for Suo, just as he'd made a nice and safe home for you. And you wanted to marry him and kiss him and have sex with him and only him for the rest of your life.

You wanted it so badly, it still makes you heart ache to think about it.

He was definitely just teasing you, though. Suo was a sane person at the time, and sane people do not actually plan a marriage and life with someone before dating them or even fucking them. Most importantly, a sane person wouldn't hold onto such a silly joke for so long. Oh, you expect him to say, laughing. You're right, I had nearly forgotten.

But all he does is give you a smile. It's one of his strange, enigmatic ones.

“No, I was quite serious about it,” Suo says, looking right at you.

You stare at him.

“Really?”

“Really.”

He's being so straightforward, so earnest. Your typical reaction would be to feel flustered, sentimental—but something about his expression and tone bothers you. But before you can suss out what it is, he continues, and the moment passes.

“Was there anything else you ever wanted to do?” he asks smoothly.

You're startled, off-guard. “Oh, um… not really. I never let myself think too much about it.”

“Come on,” he prods. “There must be something.”

“No, I really didn't think of any ideas on my own. Although…”

Your face gets hot as you trail off. Suo senses weakness, and goes in for the kill.

“Although?”

“It's too embarrassing,” you admit, looking away, and Suo looks a little too interested as he pesters you for an answer.

“Come on, it's fine.” His mouth curls in a way that tells you it's not fine. “I promise I won't judge you. I just want to know what I can do to make you happy as your husband.”

You give him an uncertain look, and say your only concrete fantasy about him so quickly and quietly that he misses it.

“Pardon?” he asks.

“...romantic, vanilla sex.”

Suo blinks. “What?”

Your face burns with humiliation.

“I used to think about having romantic, vanilla sex with you. When I was a teenager. A lot.” Said as if you weren't just thinking about it two months ago in a love hotel, and still don't want it now. You wouldn't even bring it up if you didn't think it was necessary. But unfortunately, you're professionally skilled at perceiving people’s sexual interests, and you've perceived that Suo is sexually a freak. He was definitely going easy on you tonight, and is probably actively planning to get worse. You'll never have normal sex with him unless you explicitly state a desire for it.

Suo gives you a surprised look. “That's… a very mundane fantasy.”

“It wouldn't have been mundane to me,” you reply, somewhat defensively. “I used to think about it when I slept with my customers, who weren't very romantic. Or vanilla. So I didn’t really have a good reference point or anything for that kind of sex, but sometimes I still thought about doing it with you after they had left.”

You look away after saying this, wondering why you disclosed all of that. It certainly wasn't necessary for your dream of someday taking Suo’s cock without being psychosexually tortured first. Now you feel like you need to hide. You even think about excuses for stopping the car, and ponder again how difficult it would be to live without proof of identity, if you chose to run away.

But Suo doesn't let you run. He pulls you close to him, wrapping you up in his warmth.

“It's okay,” he says gently, in a voice that reminds you of how he was in his old Furin days. “You'll be okay. I'll make sure of it.” It confuses you deeply, and you turn to ask him what the fuck he's going on about.

You don't even realise you're crying until he starts kissing away your tears.

You can’t understand why you’re weeping. Maybe something strange and hormonal happened while you were having sex, like Suo made you orgasm too hard and all the oxytocin is making you depressed now. Though you think that hormone is supposed to make you happy. You're not sure. You never finished school, so you wouldn't know.

Whatever the reason, you hastily wipe away your tears. A hand rubs at your back, and you let yourself press your face into his shoulder.

“Sorry,” you say quickly.

“Don't apologise. You don't have anything to be sorry for.”

You hesitate as you breathe against the silk threads of his shirt, thinking about how many of his shirts you've ruined with your tears. At least three changshan and one Versace summer piece, by your count. It’s not like he hurts over the money these days, but guilt tugs at your heart.

“I don't know about that,” you mumble into his shoulder. And it takes a while to work yourself up to saying it, but eventually you whisper, with full honesty, “I'm sorry for always worrying you.”

“I know,” Suo says. He sounds sincere when he says, “I’m sorry too.”

“I’ll try to be better from now on.”

“You will be. And even if you aren’t, that's fine.”

For some reason, that makes your heart squeeze.

You melt against Suo after that, listening to the steady roll of tires and passing traffic outside. There's a gentle pitter patter of rain against the car roof, tinny and rhythmic, that gradually crescendos into a proper storm. The windshield wipers squeak against the glass. All of the noise is lulling you into a kind of peace, or maybe you're just feeling that way because Suo is holding you.

Fatigue wears your consciousness, and you close your eyes. The hustle and bustle of the red light district grows distant, faint—partly from slipping in and out of your dreams, and partly from the quieting world outside. It's now completely silent other than the heavy rainfall. You think they must be taking the road through Makochi. Suo asks for it whenever he wants you to sleep well.

He probably thinks you're asleep when he says, “I’m sorry for being how I am now.”

You almost stop breathing. Almost.

“You didn't fall in love with me when I was like this, so you must not like it very much,” he continues. “I know that Master wouldn't like me much either, if he were alive. He always said that you should support your loved ones until they can stand on their own two feet. But lately, I feel like all I've been doing is breaking yours.”

He sighs. The sky groans with distant thunder.

“Sakura knows who I really am, you know,” he says quietly. “I think he's worried about what'll happen to you if we get married. Though he’s been worried about you for a while.” Suo almost sounds endeared when he adds, “Did you know he only texts me now to ask if you're okay? He really does love you.”

He’s more sombre when he continues, “But Nirei is just afraid of me. That’s why he’s never around. He’s going to call you in a week and tell you not to go through with the wedding. He’ll probably tell you to leave me too. It’s good advice.”

It's hard to keep your breathing slow, with how badly your heart hurts.

“I’ve tried to go back to how I was, to the kind of person that Master was trying to raise,” Suo confesses. “But I don't think I can get better.”

But even if you can't, you want to tell him, that’s fine. You wish you could hold him how he's always held you.

“It doesn't usually upset me nowadays,” he admits after some time, “how I am now. But to be honest, talking about our school days did make me feel bitter, because I can't give you the things I know you wanted.”

He kisses the top of your head. Gently, so as not to wake you from your dream.

“I'm sorry I never became a teacher. I'm sorry I joined the yakuza. I'm sorry I can't give you a normal life. And I'm sorry I can’t have an honest conversation with you.”

Silence. You feel his chest stop briefly, his breathing deepen.

“Maybe someday, I'll get better enough to say these things to you while you're awake. Maybe someday, I'll even get better enough to let you leave. It would be best for you.”

His voice gets even softer. Tender.

“But for now, I don't know how to let you go.”

You feel a hand shifting away, the soft noise of leather against skin. Then both arms around you again, even warmer, even tighter. He’s leaning his head against yours. You think Suo is falling asleep.

Allowing yourself a single, quick glance at the car, you peer at your reflections in the rearview mirror. You see sheets of rain sliding against the back window, his dark lashes pressed to his skin, and all the scar tissue he likes to keep hidden away.

And you can see, very clearly, tears beneath his missing eye.

END 'TOKYO VICE'

hi everyone thanks for reading this chapter!!!! i hope it didn't disappoint after all the shitposting i did about it this week lol

can i just say. this was straight up the weirdest sex scene I've ever written HASLKFJSDF and the mood whiplash throughout this was probably the craziest i've ever written within a single piece. unfortunately, this reader copes with her trauma via humour and sex and it really shows rip. i hope it wasn't too offputting!

thank you to everyone who left a comment on part 1!! please do let me know if you enjoyed part 2 as well. <333

tagging @kweenkatsuki-fics and @stuckindreamland06!

[honeytonedhottie]

decentering men and recentering urself⋆.ೃ࿔*:･💅🏽💓

the secret to decentering men and not having ur entire world revolving around them (bcuz it should be revolving around you, duh) is having a fulfilling life. it makes me ICK so bad when im watching a video or reading a post and im rly loving it, and then it'll find SOME way to make it revolve around men. like can we not?…💬🎀

WHY WE CENTER THE OPPOSITE SEX ;

a lot of people find themselves centering their lives around the opposite sex in an attempt to fill a void within themselves. they do it because they aren't happy with themselves or their lives, or maybe its learned behavior. whatever the reason is, its NOT hot.

some things that someone who centers men might think are "oh my life is so boring, maybe it would be spiced up if i got with a man" or "maybe it'll bring some excitement into my day" like EUGHHH. obviously the solution is to find ways to make our lives fulfilling but how do we do that? and how do we get to the root cause and squash this self sabotaging behavior?

SELF AWARENESS ;

if u have nothing going on for u, ofc ur gonna be energetically desperate and accepting anything and EVERYTHING. practice self awareness and try to get to the root cause of why u center men through things like shadow work, therapy, or just straight up having an honest conversation with urself cuz i swear it helps.

when you make the conscious effort to build ur dream life you'll notice that people that are on the same mindset as you will vibe with the REAL you. the need to fake/adjust urself to fit in with other people will dissipate because ur fitting into ur own standards and ur connections will be more meaningful because of it.

TAKE UR POWER BACK ;

no ones actions should ruin ur day or make u upset for more then a day (even less) cuz its YOUR world. 💕🍰

make time for YOU, doll. plan self care routines for urself every week. doing face masks, journalling, vision boarding, WHATEVER U LIKE TO DO. making time for urself reminds u that ur the main character of ur life so u dont have to settle for crumbs.

stop giving that power to someone else and dictate how u feel, NOT the actions of a significant other or the opposite sex or anybody. the reason why its important to make sure that ur the center of ur own life is so that you can be happy and fulfilled regardless of if there is a man or if there isnt a man present. so the objective is to decenter men -> and then put yourself at the center

GET A HOBBY ;

find something to make ur life fulfilling. pursue ur OWN interests and try out different hobbies if ur unsure of what ur interests are yet. cultivate ur world to the point where it GLEAMS with perfection and then do a little extra. build a life that u love so much that whether u get male attention or validation doesnt even matter cuz their opinions have little to no relevance 💀

challenge yourself: next time you catch yourself thinking, ‘would a guy like this?’ flip it and ask urself "hey, do i like this?" start checking with yourself first instead of checking with others.

MAKING THE DECISION TO DECENTER MEN ;

decentering men simply means that ur deciding to no longer think, feel, act, dress, or plan ur life around a man or for the validation of any man…💬🎀

relationships will actually get BETTER when u decenter the opposite sex. cuz ur not looking for someone to compete with and ur whole on ur own. this sets the stage for balance and mutual respect and THATS hot.

you can be in a relationship and still decenter men. decentering men simply means that you are the priority, not the relationship. how can we tell if we're decentering men or not? here are a few questions to help you know if u are ->

if i did not care about looking good to the opposite sex what would i actually like to wear?

if i did not get married, how could i create the best and most abundant life for myself?

what hobbies/interests do i have that dont involve being around men/have male attention as a component of it?

[rwuffles]

okay, so, calico cove has gotten me mushy — because of people crying over my notes, me getting emotional over the notes i got, and the community as a whole. blame them for this heartfelt mushfest, i guess; this is an appreciation letter because i can't keep my big fat mouth shut ever!

to the mogai community as a whole: thank you. for, what? i don't think i could get into the specifics if i tried. we are, to be quite frank, a mess at times — discourse and drama and pettiness galore — but god i'd be lying to say i don't love it anyways. i found the community when i was stuck in a really toxic friend group, and when i was starting to hide parts of myself in order to fit in / not get bullied. it didn't really work. but, i found everyone here. people who ided similarly to me, people who also hoarded stuff, and god i fucking adored all of the coining and npt blogs. it's been a really long ride, and i'm still trying to figure myself out as we go along, but i wouldn't be, well, xuân if it weren't for everything that this community has shown me. coining and flag-making have been there for me when i didn't have words to describe how i felt, and when i needed people who'd accept me for being me; it's shown me that i shouldn't settle for anything less than that. everything i do on this blog, really, is a love letter to the community as a whole and me trying to give back everything its given me, and i hope that's clear with how much love goes into everything i create.

and, god, don't even get me started on how much i adore everyone i've met through the community!

some people i'm not quite as close with as i used to be, and some people i don't talk with at all anymore, but i have to be honest when i say that i adore and am grateful towards everyone in the community i've met during my time within it.

to @vampitsm: what sort of appreciation letter would this be if it didn't include you? you've been my friend since, what, one of my old old blogs? it's been one whole year since we've become friends; can you believe that? it was actually right around this time that we started gaia's — or rather, sweetshop. when we first met, i'll be honest and say that i didn't think we'd stay friends long. i'd always held a fairly pessimistic view of the people around me — assuming they'd leave or i'd drop them one way or another. but, you didn't. you'd stayed, you were my friend, you sided with me time and time again. at some point, i found myself wanting to be your friend — even though we already were friends! i'll be honest and say that a lot of the time, when i do things, i hope that i'll make you laugh. you and your opinion mean a lot to me, and i always look forward to the next time we talk.

to @fangpunk: there's so much i could say about you, you little faggot (silly). when i'd first joined mogaiblr, you were one of our inspirations — we looked up to you, wanted to be your mutual, and just generally thought y'all were one of the coolest guys out there. who woulda thought that we'd have the friendship we do today? you're an amazing friend, i think you're one of the funniest people we know and you've always got something to say — in a good way! i love your input on every situation, and especially when izuku isn't scared to put his foot down in our place; you make us less scared to be ourself and encourage us to be less of a pushover. so, thank you!

to @cloverpilled: you're a real dork. my dork, though. maybe i should've realized i didn't quite just see you as a friend when i was vying for your attention and calling you 'my favorite' all the time; but, it worked out in the end, didn't it? everything you make — flags, rentries, layouts, etc. — are always wonderful and i still get giddy seeing you put 'taken' in your rentries and knowing that's me. i've always loved our friendship, and i can't fathom a world without it, especially not now that we're boyfriends. i know you're not the best with words — comforting, being open, all that jazz — and i've never minded it. really, i think you're one of the sweetest people in the world and you always try your best even if it's not in the most forward or obvious manner.

to shua: you. you have been in the fucking psych ward for the past... 4-5 months? i miss you so much, dude; i'm so happy you're going to be out in 2 days. i can't wait to spend the rest of the holidays with you and everyone else in gaia's. you're an amazing person, to be entirely honest, and i miss spending time with you. you've been my friend since before i was here on rwuffles. do you know how fucking long that is? i've looked up to you since forever, and i'm so happy that we're friends. i cherish you and i cherish our friendship as a whole more than i think i could ever express, sometimes i can't believe that we've been friends for so long, but we have! to another year of you & i!

to hadiyah: i have no idea what your current (?) tumblr account is, to be entirely honest, so i hope this finds its way to you one way or another. you're such an amazing person, i think you're so funny and i love talking with you — it's always a treat. sure, you aren't quite as active in gaia's anymore; i don't mind. i still consider you a really good friend of ours. you've been our friend since... the beginning of gaia's as well, i believe? so, really, i couldn't be more grateful to have you in my life and to have had you as a friend for so long! thank you, so much.

to @sevvys: sev. you. you are so cool and awesome and i love talking to you. thank you for being our friend — we don’t even remember how long we’ve been friends for. but, thank you. to be entirely honest, you’re an older sibling figure in our lives and we love being able to hang out and make stupid jokes; i think you’re really funny and i’ve always looked up to you in a way if that doesn’t sound weird? i don’t talk to you as much as i wish i did, and i want that to change, but you’re always super level-headed in my opinion and really good at handling discussions i guess. i don’t know how to express how cool i think you are. you’re just a really reliable, caring person i think

to @rabidbatboy: i think i’ve looked up to you for… an absurdly long amount of time. when you first started coining, you were one of the only people coining less “cutesy” stuff; it was definitely a breath of fresh air and we found ourselves super excited to see any new terms you’d come up with. to be honest? we still love everything you coin, even if we aren’t quite in the fandoms you’re coining for — plus i just think you’re awesome as a person. i love talking to you, as i’ve said to lots of people, you’re super funny and i always look forward to talking to you next! you’re not quite as active in gaia’s anymore, and i know you’re not the best with words, so i don’t expect anything grand in response; i just want you to know that i really care about you and i’ve always appreciated your presence.

to eddie: that’s right, oldie! you get a section, too! because i consider you a really good friend of ours, even if i don’t talk to you very much and you aren’t (?) quite in the mogai community. i really like talking to you and i like our back and forth banter a lot — it feels like you’re an older sibling of ours a lot of the time. i like being the annoying little brother to you, and i really hope that we can keep being friends. it feels really weird being genuine and expressing how much you matter to me considering how often we tend to jokingly butt heads, but i just need you to know that i really love our friendship and i can’t imagine it being any other way. i hope your holidays are good, ya old fuck (affectionate).

and, this section isn't quite for people who are in the mogai community. rather, friends & loved ones i've known since before then that i love with all my heart and that have supported me throughout everything — discovering myself and realizing how much i adore these labels. there aren't enough words to explain how much i love you all and appreciate your staying by my side and not abandoning me.

to elipse, my dear boyfriend: thank you. you’ve supported me through everything — even when it felt like everyone else was against me and i was left on my own again. you are my dearest, my beloved, my forever and my eternity; i’m not scared to be mushy about that. it’s been a wonderful two years by your side, and i hope for it to be many more. you’ve loved me through my ups and downs, my wrongs and rights, my weirdest moments and all the cute stuff in-between. you’ve been my number one supporter — especially when i was first starting to become a mogai coiner — and you’ve remained my number one supporter since. you’re the most wonderful boyfriend i could ever ask for: supportive, sweet, considerate, and amazing. i love you. 

to caelan, my lovely girlfriend: you!! you’ve been my best friend for seven years. do you know how long that is? i’m 16! i was 9 when we met! i’ve almost known you and akemi for longer than i haven’t! that is both a terrifying and wonderful thought: to have someone by your side for so long that you can recall more of your life with them than without it. i adore everything about you, and i’m so sorry if it seems like i’m a bit awkward or not the best conversationalist sometimes; everything about you is amazing and i just feel like a little wet dog near you somedays. i miss you so much, and i hope your break from fronting is going well, and that you know i love you and am so excited to talk to you again when you’re back. 

to akemi, one of my bestest and oldest friends: a lot of what i said in caelan’s note is what i’d say to you. we’ve known eachother for so long, that it’s hard to imagine my life if you hadn’t been in it. actually, i think my entire life would’ve taken a different course if we hadn’t met on that fnaf minecraft roleplay on hypixel — can you believe it? how such little things manage to make such big impacts on our lives and who we are as people? i know we don’t talk as much anymore, but, as i’ve said before, i consider you one of my dearest friends and you mean the complete world to me. so, thank you for having stayed by my side for so long, akemi.

to ice, my amazing sister: you!!! the sister ever!!! you’ve always taken on an older sibling role in my life since we met, and i think you just tend to slot into that role perfectly; thank you for always being there for me and taking care of me. i don’t think i’d have made it this far without you being there and reassuring me every step of the way. we might not be super close, or talk as much as i’d like us to, but i really enjoy your company and love talking with you. i’m just a little bit of an awkward guy. when you send me stuff on pinterest, it always makes me happy and i love checking and seeing that i have a new message from you. i can’t believe we’ve been friends for — how long is it, at this point — six years? i think around that time. that’s unbelievable to me.

to smg, my one & only brother: the stupidest most dorkiest most infuriating brother i could ever have the pleasure of knowing and being able to call my brother. that’s what you are. you and your stupid brainrot and stupid jokes and stupid everything — i could never imagine a world where you aren’t my brother. even if you act like you don’t care a lot of the time, you make sure we know that you do care (even if it’s in your own, stupid little way). i love being your friend and i’m so grateful i’ve had you in my life for so long. you are the first and currently the only online friend who i’ve been able to meet irl, and i hope to be able to see you again sometime soon. even if you never quite got the labels that i’d talk about or ramble about, and even if you might get on my nerves sometimes, you’re still my brother at the end of the day and i wouldn’t want it any other way.

next up, we have people who i don’t quite talk to as much anymore who’s presences in my life i really appreciate. of course, i’m not sure if all of them still have tumblr blogs — most being deactivated — or if they even really want to hear how i care about them. so, really, i’ll leave this brief and say that this part is addressed to: ghost, mimsy, and woodbyne. thank you guys for having played such a large role in our lives at one point or another, and i wish you all the best even if we don’t talk as much nowadays. 

i don’t think that i can dedicate a paragraph to everyone, even if i really wish i could, as i don’t think most people are going to be willing to read through this whole post with the length that it’s getting to. so, i’m just gonna tag a bunch of people? just to let you guys know that you’re loved in every which way even if i have a shitty time showing it to all of you? 

the sillies ever who are so kind and sweet and i enjoy everytime they send me asks, reblog, leave a reply, or just interact with me in general: @ainoshonen @smilepilled @angeltism @zoeynovie

coiners that are actually a lot smaller than i thought they were that i think are so cool and need more recognition: @acronym-chaos @nostalgiagender

OTHER coiners that i think deserve recognition for the things they do and the stuff they create even if i didn’t think they were big at first: @sylviestial @pupcoins @love-letterworm @jiiamp @boingogender @kitsflagz

other BIG coiners that i look up to and have looked up to for a long time — whether we’re currently actually friends (which i still can’t get over), we don’t talk a lot if we do know eachother, or that i haven’t met personally: @idwl @kiruliom @webby-mogai @gender-mailman @puriette-archived @lunentity @the-astropaws @lepus-fangs

everyone who participated in mogai team-up, which, i can’t get over the fact we’ve managed to hit 1k followers because holy SHIT that’s a lot of fucking people, but thank you guys for coming together to help me celebrate it and let this fucking monster of an event (very positive) happen in the first place: @daybreakthing @floraeth @kylertism @robofox-mogai @dragonpuff17 @novaurora @flutteringwings-coining @xyrthemost @catboy-autism @cannibalisticcoinz

if i didn't tag you... uh. our memory is shit, sorry! i tried to remember everyone and i'm literally going to cry if i forgot someone

finally, to everyone in calico cove: thank you. for all of you coming together to help me create a community that’s so loving, so sweet and accepting that it has managed to become a safe space for a plethora of people that i’d have never imagined it to. you’re all lovely, and i’m so glad to be able to share a space with everyone and anyone that’s there. calico cove as a whole just makes me super emotional — cheesy, i know — but it’s essentially one of my dreams come true. it’s been an aspiration of mine to be able to create safe spaces with people wherever i go, and to foster an environment where people feel safe to be themselves without ridicule or fear of judgement. i’m so glad that i’ve been able to create that in calico cove. to hear you guys say or admit that it’s a safe space for you makes me emotional everytime, even if i’m not fully able to convey that to you all. 

thank you to everyone in the mogai community; have a happy holidays!

[klarolinexluv]

Something has really stuck with me that some Anti Regulus Black person said and I want to share my thoughts on it.

Basically, they said that we, or people that like Regulus have been giving Regulus Lilys characteristics and traits and relationships instead of giving them to Lily and are using this to replace Lily.

From my pov, I can understand how that comes across. Moonwater, in canonical type universes, usually come together over their love for literature, something, that as far as I understand was how Lily and Remus used to become friends in fics.

When I think of this situation, I don’t see it as Lily being replaced, I see it as Remus having more friends then just the Marauders and Lily. I see it as Remus making friends.

In all the fics I’ve read, majority of them, Lily and Remus are always already friends! 9 times out of 10, if Remus has a POV and he is interacted with Lily or thinking about Lily, he refers to her has his best friend.

Idk who needs to hear this but Remus can have more friends than just Lily and the Marauders! In fact, EVERY. SINGLE. CHARACTER. Can have more friends then just the friend groups that they have been assigned to from the fandom.

I personally love the idea that Regulus and Remus get close because of their shared interest in books and knowledge. In fact, I love it so much when this happens. I also love when Remus is the one to introduce (formally) Lily and Regulus. Because they have shared interests! They all have shared interests and that’s what they bond over.

If we just forget about ships for a moment - Jily/Jegulus - Regulus and Lily would and could actually be really close friends. At their cores they are very similar and have similar morals and codes.

Like my girl Lily defeated Voldemort the first time. You cannot tell me that she did not have some deep interest and understanding of Dark Magic that is really not talked about enough. I mean, she was friends with Snape for a LONG time! Even against all her Gryffindor friends and dorm mates advice and opinions. She was friends with Snape for a long time and they definitely studied dark magic together. The only reason they stopped being friends was because Snape called her a slur and began siding with people that would have gladly seen Lily and people like Lily 6 feet under.

And then Regulus! He may not have made the best choices but when it mattered the most, he chose to do the right thing and go against Voldemort. He is the first to have done so! My guy was smart. He definitely knew so much magic that he has likely forgotten more than anyone would ever even know.

Regulus and Lily are both so smart and they would have bonded over their shared intelligence, their love for knowledge and books. Remus was probably terrified the day he realised he was the reason these two evil geniuses even started talking.

Maybe instead of saying that Regulus is being given Lily’s characteristics and traits, maybe think about how this would affect the two characters when put in the same room.

I personally think that they would argue for a long time and then Lily would probably say something that gives Regulus pause and then Lily would gently press on that and then Regulus would go have a long hard think and then come back and hesitantly ask Lily questions that Lily would happily answer and then they would be tentative friends!

Regulily have so much in common but they also have a lot of differences and I don’t think enough people see that because they are too focused on ships rather than the characters themselves and their motives and actions.

I’m not shy in admitting that I fuck with romantic regulily. They are my guilty pleasure ship and I am not shy about saying that.

Regulily, platonically, romantically, it doesn’t matter. They have the biggest grounds for friendship and growth.

Regulus and Lily can teach each other so much and I honestly think it’s the biggest missed opportunity when they are pinned against each other rather than working together.

I fear I’ve gone WAY off topic.

In the context of relationships, the jily vs jegulus idea. I feel like I need to hold people hands when I say this because the two ships are very different.

WARNING! OPINIONS!

To me, Jily is a rivals to lovers relationship. I don’t think they are grumpy/sunshine purely because I don’t see Lily as the grumpy trope. I very much think that Jily are academic rivals. Where James just naturally understands everything and gets good marks whether he studied or not and Lily has to study heavily before she understands a topic enough to pass, like Lily to me has to study throughly before everything sticks and she understands the topic so much more than is really required for her coarse work.

I also don’t think Jily was James falls in love at first sight and Lily hates him for years until she gives in and goes on a date with him. Sure it’s a bit cute but i definitely prefer James developing a crush and not telling anyone other than his friends. I very much fuck with James being uncharacteristically shy about his crushes on people. I fuck with James losing his ability to talk or function around the person he fancies and it comes off as arrogance and a bit of a joke when he is actually being genuine.

I love the idea that Lily falls for him slowly, like initially, she thinks she hates him, she loathes the fact that he doesn’t need to study and he can just goof off and do whatever and still get perfect grades, I think Lily gets jealous of James and thinks she despises him because she thinks he is trying to make fun of her when all he is trying to do is talk to her and get her attention.

I love the idea that Remus is constantly trying to talk James up to Lily, “he’s really not that bad once you get to know him.” And “He’s harmless, Lils.” And things like that but Lily has NONE of it!

I think Lily starts to fall for James when they are paired together for a project that is a big mark on their finals. I think Lily goes into this thinking that she is going to hate it when actuality, James is kind and thoughtful and helps her when she struggles. He doesn’t make fun of her, he sits down quietly and gives her tips and tricks that he discovered when he studies privately, (this would be when she finds out that maybe it doesn’t all come as naturally to James as she thought) and then they end up getting the best grade in their year on the assignment but they don’t stop hanging out, they don’t stop studying together. Lily slowly falls for James because of his mind and they form a friendship and then James would ask her out one day and Lily would find herself stunned because if he had asked her a few months ago, she would have harshly declined but in the moment, she finds herself blushing and agreeing without a hint of hesitation.

And that’s how I imagine Jily.

Now, Jegulus.

Jegulus is enemies to lovers, they are grumpy/sunshine. I very much think that they did hate eachother. They did not like eachother for many reasons and they would argue and fight in the halls.

I’m very much into jegulus but I don’t think I’ve seen a fic that has written them as actually enemies to lovers in a canonical setting.

Jegulus to me is very push and pull. One step forward, two steps backwards.

I honestly think that sure, when they met at 11 and 12 when Sirius had his little brother trailing after him and introduced them to each other, they both had the moment of instant connection that they both immediately denied and dismissed and buried under hatred.

James and Regulus see each other as competition. Regulus sees James as the one that stole his brother. James sees Regulus as the brother that doesn’t deserve Sirius.

Because Sirius told James all about his little brother all through first year and James was exited to meet him for a long time until they met and instantly realised that Regulus is a two faced snake and doesn’t deserve Sirius.

Because Sirius told Regulus all about his best friend in every letter, in every stolen moment during the holidays. Regulus was exited to meet James for a long time until they met and instantly realised that James isn’t the golden ray of sunshine that Sirius claims him to be but a brother stealing asshole.

I honestly think that Jegulus is THE enemies to lovers.

I don’t think Jegulus even had a civil conversation until after Sirius ran away. And even this conversation started as an argument. I think that they only reason the argument stopped and they started genuinely talking to eachother is because Regulus’ mask broke and James saw the hidden emotions underneath that Regulus was trying to hide.

I think that James held onto prejudice for a long time. He saw all Slytherins as evil and then didn’t think about that for years until he sees Regulus crack and then James has to rethink everything he has ever thought.

That’s how I think Jegulus starts and I don’t think they ever really talk about what they are or what they are doing for a very long time, to the point (if we are talking in a canonical sense) that they break and fall apart. To the point where they end up on different sides of a war.

ANYWAY! (this is really long and if you've read this far, just know that you are my favourite person in the entire world and I adore you to the ends of the universe).

Regulus and Lily, though they share many characteristics and traits and fundamentally different people. Even in the context of the people they are shipped with, even in the context of their friendships.

I love them both so much and I think saying that Lily is being replaced by Regulus is incredibly wrong and also perhaps a little misogynistic.

They are both incredible characters, who should not be defined by their relationships.

Like I said before. In the context of war, both Lily and Regulus were the first. Regulus may have failed to complete his mission and Lily may have succeeded in killing Voldemort… but at the end of the day both of them did not do anything in the long run. Voldemort was still able to return, the horcruxes still need to be destroyed and Harry still had to finish what the people before him started, Harry still had to fight a war he had no part in starting.

[kylieneko]

Happy birthday and Hogswatch to this post. It's not the most reblogged Discworld quote I've posted, but its had some of the best comments/tags. And I swear it's been reblogged at least once a month since posting, making it the first time the pretentious "let's have this Christmas thing last all year" has actually happened, to my knowledge.

I could post a new quote, but I just feel like these reactions are worth more. You want more Hogfather quotes, read the book -- it's basically quotable from start to finish. Or there's a two-part TV movie adaptation. It's alright, and has this scene, but there's so much that got cut due to simply being unfilmably unadaptable.

@justafterjericho added: #there's no better present than a future #love him love him so much #the best anthropomorphic personification

@lancrewizzard simply #sits and cries a little

@memorijemand wrote: #I barely remember my reading order #but I think hogfather was one of the first discworld books I read in the original english #I do know for certain that “there's no better present than a future” fundamentally changed me as a person

@purgknight said: #Death has legitimately changed my brain chemistry for the better #“THERE'S NO BETTER PRESENT THAN A FUTURE”

@bad-choices-and-femslash has the feels with the rest of us: #this part always makes me cry

@emmalily, who is an abomination unto Nuggan by the way, has an impassioned (and correct) opinion: #this scene is like me getting revenge on the bitch teacher who made us watch the Little Match Girl in 2nd grade #& then tried to tell me ''things like that [unhoused people freezing to death on the street] don't happen anymore!'' #but I knew the truth #there's nothing more infuriating than a grown up condescending a child over something that really matters & is actually true

@anthropomorphique can still find a chuckle nonetheless: #matchstick girl was probably the saddest story I've heard #thank you terry for fixing it #poorer than a disabled banana though😂😂

@milk-powrit joined us for Hogswatch in Grune by adding: #I’m glad death did this #always hated that story #what kind of Christmas story #has someone die at then end? #in no way is that a happy ending #there's no better present than a future

@krbgirl comes in swinging right before the 1 year mark with: #this really is amazing #heaven is not a happy ending #not when it's a literal fucking child

There was a moment of horrible silence as they both stared at the lifetimer. "You're for life, not just for Hogswatch," prompted Albert. "Life goes on, master. In a manner of speaking." BUT THIS IS HOGSWATCHNIGHT. Very traditional time for this sort of thing, I understand," said Albert. I THOUGHT IT WAS THE SEASON TO BE JOLLY, said Death. "Ah, well, yes, you see, one of the things that makes folks even more jolly is knowing there're people who ain't," said Albert, in a matter-of-fact voice. "That's how it goes, master, Master?" NO. Death stood up. THIS IS HOW IT SHOULDN'T GO. . . . "You know you're not supposed to do this sort of thing, master. You know what happened last time." THE HOGFATHER CAN DO IT, THOUGH. "But . . . little match girls dying in the snow is part of what Hogswatch spirit is all about, master," said Albert, desperately. "I mean, people hear about it and say, 'We may be poorer than a disabled banana and only have mud and old boots to eat, but at least we're better off than the poor little match girl,' master. It makes them feel happy and grateful for what they got, see." I KNOW WHAT THE SPIRIT OF HOGSWATCH IS, ALBERT. "Sorry, master. But, look, it's all right, anyway, because she wakes up and it's all bright and shining and tinkling music and there's angels, master." Death stopped. AH. THEY TURN UP AT THE LAST MINUTE WITH WARM CLOTHES AND A HOT DRINK? Oh dear, thought Albert. The master's really in one of his funny moods now. "Er. No. Not exactly at the last minute, master, Not as such." WELL? "More sort of just after the last minute." Albert coughed nervously. YOU MEAN AFTER SHE'S-- "Yes. That's how the story goes, master, 's not my fault." WHY NOT TURN UP BEFORE? AN ANGEL HAS QUITE A LOT OF CARRYING CAPACITY. "Couldn't say, master. I suppose people think it's more . . . satisfying the other way . . ." Albert hesitated, and then frowned. "You know, now that I come to tell someone . . ." Death looked down at the shape under the falling snow. Then he set the lifetimer on the air and touched it with a finger. A spark flashed across. "You ain't really allowed to do that," said Albert, feeling wretched. THE HOGFATHER CAN. THE HOGFATHER GIVES PRESENTS. THERE'S NO BETTER PRESENT THAN A FUTURE.

[calitears]

𐙚 be my angel

“they say it's me, that makes you do things you might not have done”

megumi x reader • birthday fic

word count: 1,141

Unboxing the small cake from the cardboard box that had held it, you carefully slid it out, turning it by the edges of plate. You smiled at the final result of the order you had placed last week, dark chocolate cake with the least sweet option of frosting the bakery offered, the baker really out did themselves. The next step was to unbox the candles, the white 2’s with a dark blue outline, and carefully placing them on the cake, making sure the words ‘happy birthday megumi’ spelt in navy blue jelly didn’t get messed up.

Today was your boyfriend’s 22nd birthday, and coincidentally just so happened to be your first year anniversary. It was hard to believe an entire year had already passed by since the night you accidentally confessed to him at the ‘surprise’ birthday party Yuji had thrown for him.

That night Megumi had already known about his best friend’s scheme, and it honestly crossed his mind to avoid it. But at the end of the day, it was you who convinced him to attend. It was always you to drag him along anywhere and everywhere.

When you first met him, could compare Megumi to the personification of melancholy. You know your love hasn’t had an easy life, which you assumed is why you almost always saw him thinking off into space, refreshing his mind of happy memories, yet what seemed to be a sad longing. That was just the way he was. You would learn he didn’t find joy or interest in much materialistic things, instead he’d seek comfort and reassurance in actions and words. And slowly, you introduced him to the idea of touch as a love language.

Experiencing something new and so nice in the present, maybe helped him move forward from the past.

People often considered you the most affectionate in the relationship, you’d hear teasing comments come from his friends, Yuji or Nobara, about how it was always you to initiate anything between you guys. It was always you who forced him to be included. The thought that maybe you loved him more than he did you had crossed your mind before.

But you knew that wasn’t true. Because Megumi Fushiguro wasn’t the type to love empty. He would do acts of service, he would repay people he felt he owed, even when he didn’t. In his mind, if someone was injured or hurt due to something he could’ve prevented, even when he had no responsibility too, he owed them.

Yet one thing he’d never do, is give his heart as a form of payment. And so you thanked whatever religion out there for the ability to be able to love a man that loved you harder. Because there was no one else he would spend hours into the night talking to, there was no one else he’d surrender his body too, no one else that he would put aside his own opinions for and buy whatever material thing you wanted, no one else he’d turn his casual acts of service into romantic gestures for, and no one else he whispered ‘i love you’ to while drifting off to sleep.

And yet knowing this you always feared he’d leave you, not for another woman, but for the dark reality that existed outside of your relationship. The thoughts that plagued his mind if you let him sink that far deep into his own head. But you swore exactly one year ago, when he had for the first time in his life spilled his heart out to someone, to you, when you both had wandered away from the party, that you wouldn’t ever let him drown. You wouldn’t let him be lonely, and so that’s why you try so hard to include him, to fit him in.

You placed the gifts you had gotten your boyfriend next to the cake on the table. A wrapped vinyl he had been eyeing every time you wandered past the record shop, a bag of books you knew had been on his reading list for ages that he himself probably forgot about, and a pendant you had carefully chosen out for him, the main reason being the stone matched his eyes almost perfectly.

Just as you stepped back you heard the front door of your apartment open, signalling your boyfriend’s arrival. After choosing to celebrate your anniversary earlier in the day, you planned him to come over at the end to celebrate his birthday. Making whatever excuse to have a buffer of time between to be able to pick up his cake, and bring out his gifts.

Megumi was surprised at the sight of the set up, his heart skipping a beat at just the idea of you taking a moment to appreciate him. He was almost startled when you moved next to him and held onto his arm.

“happy birthday ‘gumi….”

Megumi looked at you, his eyes meeting yours and his lips twitching into the small smile you had grown to recognize.

“…thank you.”

You smiled back at him, tugging his arm and pulling him over to the table, sitting him down in the chair in front of the cake. Megumi letting out a short amused huff watched as you picked the lighter off the table, and quickly lit the ‘22’ candles placed on top of it.

“…make a wish!”

The smile was still spread across his lips, before he blew gently, mainly to amuse you. You ruffled his hair in response, before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and placing your chin on the top of his head.

“what’d you wish for?”

“can’t say.”

You huffed playfully, placing a small kiss on the top of his head, “Why?”

Megumi wasn’t superstitious, in fact he didn’t really have any sort of beliefs like that at all, but even then he would admit that he wouldn’t risk anything to have his wish not come true. Because he couldn’t handle if you loving him forever didn’t become a reality.

“‘cause then it won’t come true…”

You laughed, before reaching out to the cake and scooping frosting on your finger only to smudge it on his face. He huffed and pouted, only to immediately return the favor, turning around and smudging frosting acrossing you cheek.

Both letting out a quiet laugh as you pulled out the chair next to him and sat down, scooping up frosting on your finger again, but this time smudging it on his lips, only to lean in and clean them through a kiss.

The taste of Megumi and the slight sweetness of the frosting was intoxicating, and when he pulled back first, gently cupping your face, the glint in his eyes made you understand he was more than happy.

“happy birthday angel,” you whispered, wiping the leftover frosting off the tip of his nose.

[helen-lucilfer]

ranking the phantom troupe based on how good of parents they would be

1. chrollo. the way that this isn’t even because i have favoritism towards chrollo, its because he’s so responsible🥹🥹🥹 like do you see the way that he basically takes care of the troupe? fathered so hard he mothered tbh. chrollo is literally so girl dad coded🥺 prolly cried when his held his child for the first time. he’d be the sweetest, brushing his daughter’s hair and taking her shopping.

2. pakunoda. she’s so respectful and self sacrificial and responsible im crying🥺 she makes me cry real skibidi tears like togashi look at what you took away from us. she’d be the literal sweetest mama ever. she’s soooo girl mom coded it’s insane. can you imagine her painting her daughter’s nails pink?🥹💕 she would 100% take her daughter on mall trips all the time.

3. phinks. controversial opinion but this guy would lowkey but SUCH A GOOD DAD. remember during the chimera ant arc when he gave shizuku his clothes because she lost hers? i just KNOW that he would play video games with his son and once begrudgingly wore a tiara for his daughter.

4. franklin. i don’t think he’d ever have kids (or want them for that matter), but if ever were to babysit kids, just know that he’ll be great. since we all know that he’s literally just a chill guy, he’ll just let the kids play video games and eat food the whole time.

5. nobunaga. okay okay HEAR ME OUT HE WOULD BE SO CUTE. like okay he wouldn’t be a “good” parent, but can you imagine him running around with his kid wreaking havoc and letting them play with his hair? like come on that’s literally like my dream dad😭❤️

6. shizuku. now she definitely is NOT responsible, but she doesn’t even need to be because she’ll lowkey be so chill and nice with her kids. there’s a saying that kids like pretty girls, and shizuku is definitely that. she’ll probably let her kids play on her phone or something, and i lowkey don’t think she’ll care if they take her glasses or smth.

7. machi. she’s responsible, don’t get me wrong, but i think she’ll be a bit too strict on her kid because she has trouble expressing any positive emotions. but when her kid runs away crying, she’ll instantly feel SO BAD and try her best to comfort the kid. she might make them a doll or some clothes or something.

8. bonolenov. we don’t really know too much about him, but he seems to care a lot about the troupe, so then it’s probably natural to assume that he’ll be the same with his children, if he ever has any, of course. he’ll probably teach them about their clan and what the holes in his clan’s body symbolizes.

9. shalnark. now, he’s a friendly and “sweet” guy, but i have a strong feeling that he wouldn’t like kids very much. they’re probably too dumb and pure for his liking, and he probably feels sort of uncomfortable when it comes to kids. if he finds out that someone is going to have his kids, then 90% of the time, shalnark will pull a ging freecss. the other 10% of the time, he’ll try his best.

10. uvogin. he’s the type of guy to want his child to learn how to fight and learn Nen as soon as possible, even if he has to initiate them to unlock their aura nodes. he’d lowkey drink beer one day and offer his kids some beer too, forgetting that they’re underage. but he loves his kids dearly though and would do anything for them, so that’s good enough.

11. feitan. oh this guy HATES KIDS. he finds them annoying and loud and stupid, and he gets the ick even when he LOOKS at a kid. if he ever had a kid, (which he probably wouldn’t but just hypothetically speaking) he’d have less of a reaction considering how that kid literally comes from inside of him, but he’d begrudgingly raise them as best he can…if it’s a son. if it’s a daughter, then i feel like he’ll be much softer and (try to be) more gentle.

12. illumi. pretty self explanatory tbh. he’ll love his kids dearly, but he’ll express it in toxic and unhealthy ways (he’ll also put them through terrible Zoldyck training)

13. hisoka. do NOT let this man near kids, even his own.

———

kalluto, kortopi - how do you expect them to have children when they’re literally children themselves?

[cheshiresense]

Ok so I've actually gotten several asks about what Starrk's relationship with Unohana/the Fourth is/was like, but I don't have time atm to get into it, but I also want to toss out some of my headcanons about it because I've thought about it a lot, so I'll just list out a few headcanons in no particular order and get back to those asks later.

- First of all, Unohana is actually super protective of Starrk, but in a way that just confuses and/or scares people. Like she’s the sort to say dead serious no joke “my lieutenant is a gentle soul, you will answer to me if you upset him” while Starrk’s murdering his way across a battlefield and his reiatsu is eating a bunch of people for lunch 😂😂

- Unohana never thought she even had any protective instincts but Starrk just brings it out in her. At her age, with her experience, she can better sense just how old he actually is, just as she can sense-smell the amount of blood on him, so she knows he's lived a long time and killed a lot of people. But she can also tell he's not like her, he doesn't enjoy that sort of thing—when he kills, it's probably either because he has no choice or because he does it out of a sense of duty to whatever it is he believes in enough to fight for. Case in point, literally no one as powerful as she knows Starrk to be would choose to enter the Fourth with an honest interest in learning even more about healing than he already does. He's patient with even the weakest unseated Shinigami, and Unohana no longer has to personally come running every time the Eleventh decides to stop by to harass her officers because Starrk is there to stonewall them at the gates. But at the same time, the grief and loneliness she can sense in his reiatsu makes her want to shed blood because it never goes away. He can coax the shyest officers out of their shells with that no-pressure-calm he's constantly radiating, and for all that he'd prefer a nap over conversation any day of the week, he's also indulgent with members of his own squad when they ask him questions about a lecture or for a spar when he has time. He's reliable and steady and everything the Fourth needs him to be, with a reserved personality and a long-suffering air about him but careful hands and an even more careful mind in everything he does. And yet, hidden beneath all that, Unohana has never met anyone so constantly, miserably tired all the time. So yes, in her opinion, Starrk is a gentle, even fragile soul. She doesn't know - yet - what broke him so badly, but he's also hers now—she chose him, and he chose her, and she doesn't think she's imagining the way the Fourth feels stronger and stabler with his presence, with the easy way he shoulders the weight of a division right alongside her, with how their subordinates walk around with more confidence too in response to having two monsters watching over them now. For his competence as her second-in-command alone, she would've shielded him from anyone who upset him. But for the way he follows her around, genuinely eager to learn; for the way he sits with the younger officers and answers their questions and shows them new Kidou spells and treats them to snacks and protects them on missions; for the way he can stare down her Bankai without flinching and only grumble afterwards about how he deserves a week of sleep for such a hard spar but never even bat an eye when she reaches out to heal him with the very hands that had done their level best to rip him apart for several hours only minutes earlier; for the way he can give back just as good as he gets and allows her the chance to let herself off her own self-made leash every few weeks without having to hold back—for all of that and more, she would challenge anyone who dares try and force him to draw his blade against his will or break him any further than he already has been.

- I headcanon that for students who want to enter the Fourth, they have to take a separate written exam before they graduate. Results aren't great because there isn't actually much of a medical track at the Academy, plus it's generally considered uncool to end up at the Fourth, so there aren't many who would even take the exam, and of those who do, most can't even finish the entire thing, and minimum pass percentage is probably something like 50% lmao. At this point, it's less an exam and more an assessment of where the student is at so the Fourth's seated officers can sort the newcomers more easily when they have to start them on the basics. Then along comes Starrk who not only finishes the entire exam but also gets everything right, and it catches Unohana's attention enough to get her to make the trip to the Academy to speak to Starrk herself just to find out more, and the more she finds out, the more she thinks she'll finally be able to name a lieutenant with the kind of standards she's always wanted to be able to measure them by. At the end of the impromptu interview, she asks one more question—she asks him if he'd be willing to take one more test and become her official student. The lieutenant seat is his either way, but she's never had a personal student before. She won't be teaching him from scratch, which is a shame—someone with potential and a learning curve like Starrk's should've been scooped up long ago. But there's also more than just medical Kidou and surgical procedures she can pass on to him, and he may be a gentle soul, but he's a gentle soul with something he fiercely wants to protect, and that means there are other things she can teach him. He says yes, and that day, on the day they meet for the first time in any timeline, in a training room deep beneath the Academy, all seals activated for both privacy and containment, and even then they'd barely held—Unohana unseals her Bankai for the first time in centuries, and Starrk weathers every blow with the unyielding bedrock found beneath mountains and deserts and canyons and oceans, timeworn but timeless and enduring all the same. In the aftermath, both of them bleeding from multiple wounds with a good chunk of their reiatsu depleted, she thinks, yes, this one will be mine. He is strong enough to stand with me, tempered enough to be unafraid of me, old enough to have experienced the worst the world can offer, and wise enough to accept and bear it. And yet he remains... soft, at heart. Kind, in a way I do not fully understand, but it is precious nonetheless. It is something that should be protected. He is someone I can protect, so he will be mine.

- She'd prob also be like "let's get this signed and sealed before the old coot catches wind of another dual-wielding Shinigami and thinks he has first dibs just because he got the other two" 😂

- She would 1000% give Shunsui a shovel talk. It's probably the most terrifying shovel talk anyone has ever received in living memory ganbaa shunsui be brave you can do it.

- As for Starrk, he adores the fuck out of Unohana. But he’s also constantly baffled by how she kind of mothers him sometimes, in really off-putting ways (to others) but he doesn't realize that. Like the first time he goes out on a not-a-date with Shunsui, Unohana will be like "I wrote a dissertation called 101 Ways to Sterilize a Man, please read it over, I require urgent feedback" all while staring gloomy-eyed straight at a sweating Shunsui from behind Starrk's back because she'd watched this brat grow up, so she knows his skirt-chasing tendencies better than most, knows the way he likes beautiful people, likes flirting with them and charming them, likes the novelty of a new relationship and the thrill of the chase, and so she also knows the way it always ends with broken hearts but hardly ever his own. At most, he'll pout for a few days or a few weeks and mope and whine to Ukitake, and then he'll move on. He's always earnest and genuine in the moment, treats his lovers with all the respect and affection in the world when they're together, but he bores easily, and for all that he plays a good game of being open and friendly and approachable, Unohana has rarely met anyone more guarded when it comes to matters of the heart than Kyouraku Shunsui. He'd grown out of genuinely pursuing people in more recent decades, goes through the motions but no longer seems very interested in romance or even short dalliances, mostly only flirts these days with his long-time female acquaintances who all know better, but it would be easy for him to fall back into old habits. If he dares to be as careless with Starrk's heart as he'd been with previous lovers, Unohana won't stop until the Eighth Division will require a new captain.

- Starrk totally calls Unohana Shishou-san eventually. He has a thing for nicknames. Shunsui is of course Taichou-san. Shiina is Sensei-san. Unohana is Shishou-san. One person per category. It's an odd quirk of his.

[httpsdana]

Can you do promo 14 and 21 with kenan on how he never thought about actually dating until he met her and how she changed his opinion on dating

When It’s You~Kenan Yildiz

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

14-“I never planned to fall in love, but here we are.”

21-“I can’t believe you remember all those little things I say.”

Kenan Yildiz had always been a bit of a skeptic when it came to love. His focus had always been on his career, his goals, and his dreams.

Relationships, with all their messy emotions and potential distractions, didn’t fit into the plan. He was the type to scoff when his teammates talked about love, rolling his eyes at their lovesick grins and romantic anecdotes.

But then he met her.

It wasn’t a thunderbolt moment or an immediate spark of realization. It was more like the quiet breaking of dawn—slow, steady, and impossible to ignore.

He noticed the way she laughed, genuine and hearty, as if she weren’t afraid to fill the room with joy. The way her eyes lit up when she talked about her passions. How she always managed to bring out the best in him, even on his worst days.

Kenan found himself seeking out her company, making excuses to talk to her, and eventually, he couldn’t ignore the growing warmth in his chest every time she was around.

One evening, the two were sat in his living room , the movie playing on the TV flickered in the background, its plot long forgotten. Kenan sat beside her on the couch, unusually quiet, his gaze fixed on the floor as if lost in thought.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” she asked, nudging his leg lightly with her foot.

He looked at her, startled, as if he hadn’t realized she was paying attention. A faint smile tugged at his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just thinking,” he said simply.

She tilted her head, studying him. “Thinking about what?”

Kenan hesitated, his fingers tapping lightly against his knee. “You probably don’t remember, but the first time I ever talked to you, I told you I hated pineapple on pizza.”

She laughed, the memory instantly coming back. “Of course, I remember. You ranted about it for ten minutes. I thought, ‘Wow, this guy really has strong opinions about fruit.’”

His lips quirked up into a small grin. “It wasn’t my proudest moment.”

“Well, I thought it was cute,” she said with a shrug.

He looked at her, his expression softening. “I can’t believe you remember all those little things I say. I didn’t think anyone listened that much.”

“Of course, I listen,” she replied, reaching over to rest her hand on his. “Everything you say matters to me.”

Kenan turned his hand over, threading his fingers through hers. He stared at their intertwined hands for a moment, his thumb gently brushing against her skin.

“you know...I never planned to fall in love,” he admitted, his voice low. “But here we are.”

The sincerity in his tone made her chest tighten. “Kenan…”

“I mean it,” he said, his eyes meeting hers. “I thought love was something other people did. Something that would just get in the way of my plans. I didn’t think it was for me.” He gave a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “But then you came along, and now I can’t imagine not having you in my life.”

Her heart swelled, and she squeezed his hand. “Well, I’m glad I changed your mind.”

He smiled, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. “You didn’t just change my mind. You changed everything.”

And in that moment, with his hand in hers and his words still lingering in the air, she knew that she had done the same for him.

my taglist: @barcapix @paucubarsisimp @spidybaby @mxryxmfooty (lmk if you want to be added!!)

[crimsonphantasmagoria]

I've been scouring my brain for weeks now, trying to come to a reconciliation between the Solas we get through Inquisition into Trespasser, and the Solas we see in Veilguard, and I think I've finally come to an answer which satisfies me, though YMMV of course. It all has to do with selfishness.

What put me onto this is the way he talks about the romance path. "It was selfish of me" he says, almost angrily. Selfishness is a thing he can't stand in others, and certainly can't stand in himself.

Solas has had his opinions and wants dismissed in the name of selflessness again and again. Most importantly, this has been done by the person he Respects the most, Mythal (this is true whatever you believe the nature of their relationship was).

The first thing, which led to everything else, is that she persuaded him to take a body for a selfless cause: protecting the People from those like Elgar’nan. Then, she had him craft the Lyrium Dagger, against his wishes, because it was necessary to end the war. And then she betrays him. He was brought into this world against his will to prevent Elgar’nan and the like basically from doing exactly this, and she's going along with it? He doesn't want to go against her, but he has to, for the good of the People.

Once the rebellion starts, Solas is required to act against his personal wishes again: he has to uphold the mantle of the Dread Wolf. We see this in Felassan's letter to him.

The next time we see Solas and Mythal together is when he warns her about the Evanuris using the Blight, and more or less asks her to run away to the Fade with him. And she refuses. We can debate her motives all we want, but I think it's safe to say that running away to the Fade with her was what he wanted. His selfish wish. And she rejects it, and goes to confront the Evanuris alone, and dies. His grief reframes this as her dying because he was selfish. And in his grief, he chooses to seal away the Blight and the Evanuris. Now, this wasn't a bad thing to do, but he is pretty explicit in Trespasser that he did it directly in response to them killing Mythal. A selfish act. And it goes catastrophically wrong.

He comes to years later, and the world is horrifying. Elven mortality, corrupting spirits, magic suppressed, all because of his mistake. His selfishness has hurt the People he has a duty to, given to him by the person he respected the most. He immediately sets about fixing the mistake. After all, he's more or less the only one who can. He kills Felassan, when he betrays the cause. He doesn't want to, but since when has he wanted any of this? When was the last time something he wanted mattered? Fixing what he's done to the world matters more.

But then he gets outwitted by Corypheus, and the Veil is coming down in the worst way possible, causing untold harm on both sides. And he can't fix this problem. The only person who can is the one with the Anchor, the future Inquisitor. So he sets himself to helping them do so, because it's the best he can do to fix his new mistake. And in doing so, he sees the best parts of the new world. He meets people he genuinely likes and admires, potentially even loves. He realises that these people are complete as they are, 'real'. It goes faster with a high approval or romance Inquisitor, but even with low approval, he eventually gets to the same place. He wants to help them. He wants to stay with them. He wants his time with them to have mattered.

But that would be selfish. Since when have his wants mattered?

He leaves them. He doesn't want to, but he has to. He kills Flemythal, because he needs her power if he's going to do this, even though he doesn't want to. He weeps. Gets back up and continues on. Since when has what he wanted mattered?

Trespasser happens, and he tells the Inquisitor almost everything, because they deserve to know, but also...he doesn't want to do this. This is the beginning of his subtle attempts to help them stop him. He can't admit it. He can't admit that he needs help, that he wants to stop, but he can subtly, almost unconsciously guide them.

This culminates in him leaving the eluvian path open for Varric and co to follow him to the unguarded, unwarded ritual site. Unfortunately, Varric tries to reason with him. But he cannot be reasoned with by Varric. Nor by the Inquisitor, nor anyone else in modern Thedas. That's what he wants, you see? He wants to stop, so he can't. That would be selfish. I do think that, maybe, if Harding had taken the shot, he might have allowed it. Taken it as a fair defeat. But she doesn't, so we'll never know.

So he ends up in the regret prison, otherwise known as literal Hell for Solas, and tricks Rook into helping release him. He's more or less the only one with power sufficient to take on Elgar’nan. You know, the guy he came here, unwillingly, to oppose in the first place? So he goes and helps the Shadow Dragons in Minrathous, but it isn't enough. Fortunately, Rook escapes, and they defeat Elgar’nan together. Unfortunately, he has now run out of excuses to not do the thing he doesn't want to do, and the Veil is coming down anyway, so.

But then Rook offers another choice. Bind yourself to the Veil and save us. He does seriously consider it for a second, because it's what he wants to do, and Rook isn't a person he cares about personally. He might respect them, but he doesn't really like or care about them, like he does Varric or the Inquisitor. Weirdly, this might make it a more effective plea, taken from this perspective. Ultimately, though, the Unselfish thing is clearly to fix his mistake, fix the world, so he goes to do that.

Then here comes the Inquisitor. He can't stop for them either, but he feels like he owes them an explanation still. He failed Mythal, and she died. He was selfish, and she died. This will all have been for nothing if he acts selfishly now.

Now Morrigan arrives. Whose fault is that? She channels fragment Mythal. I like to think this part is these two fragments of Mythal reuniting for a few moments. And Mythal says, in effect, "if i had let you stay where you wanted, if I'd listened to what you wanted, then maybe none of this would have happened. You aren't the only one at fault here. Be free from your duty to the People, and choose your own path from now on."

The Inquisitor reinforces this, and it takes him about two seconds of collecting his thoughts to choose, because frankly it's what he's wanted to do the whole time. And then he chooses to return to the Fade, and to seek atonement for his part in creating the Blight. Probably also something he wanted, but felt like he couldn't persue because he wanted it. But now he finally can, because his wants have been acknowledged by that person he respected the most as valid. So off he goes.

This might actually make the romance with Lavellan even more powerful because it means he wanted her badly enough that he almost chose her anyway, even despite his prior conditioning. Sadly, he eventually realised that the relationship was fucked if he couldn't stop his plans and couldn't tell her who he was because he couldn't stop his plans, so he ended it, for her sake, another selfless act, to try and make it easier for her to hate him. And if she doesn't, and asks to come with him in Trespasser, he refuses, for selfishly stated reasons, because he wants this one thing to remain pure and uncorrupted. But in the end, he won't refuse her again because he's finally allowed to want again, and what he wants most of all has always been her.

Idk, I've just been struggling to make Solas’s motivation change between games make sense to me, and this is what worked. Nobody else has to think this. Totally just my personal speculation.

[josgalaxy]

MY PERSONAL RANKING OF BALDUR'S GATE 3 COMPANIONS FROM WORST TO BEST (spoiler alert!!!)

Of course this is just my humble and personal opinion, let me know if you agree! Trigger warning, I have a lot to say:

11. The Emperor

I know he's not technically a companion, but let's be honest, he is with Tav since day one. Let's just say this one is a shady bitch. From the get go I didn't trust the Emperor, and going forward with the game my suspicions were confirmed. Not only he literally exploited everyone that could help him reach his goals, but he shows no true loyalty to anyone but to himself.

Proof that the Emperor is just a gaslighting bastard: 1. Lied to the whole party by changing his appearence to seem more trustworthy 2. Killed his dragon bestie Ansur that was just trying to find a cure for him. 3. Kept a Gith prince imprisoned to exploit his power and was willing to eat his brains out to get more powerful. 4. Tried to sleep with Tav and secure their trust (btw, a kinky bitch). 5. LITERALLY SIDED WITH THE BIG BAD NETHERBRAIN as soon as Tav was not okay being manipulated anymore (like babygirl, you spent the entire game telling me we had to kill that thing and now you're ending up siding with it? Excuse me??)

So, yes, The Emperor deserves to rot and I was very happy to fry that calamari.

10. Minsc (and Boo)

So, I haven't played bg2, so I don't have that kind of attachment to the old characters. I don't mind that he is juts this brainless hunk, and I like the fact that he carries a cute hamster with him. He kinda reminds me of Kronk, and I love Kronk so he gets a few points for that. But other than some muscles, dumb jokes, and Boo, what else is there?

Let's just say that he made me smile a couple of times, but I got bored of him (but not the hamster) almost instantly.

9. Jaheira

Same here folks, I appreciate Jaheira but I don't feel that attached to her as the rest of the companions (probably because of the fact that she and Minsc are introduced in the game quite late). I mean, you get this badass milf Elf (mother is mothering) that can turn into a panther and has a cute accent... how can you not like her? But do I find her as interesting as other chatacters in the game? Not really.

I would probably share a drink with the tho, to hear all the stories from back in her day.

8. Wyll

Before any of you come for me for putting The Blade of the Frontier this low, let me explain. I like Wyll, I like the fact that he is a dancer, he's romantic, and that his main goal is to help people. I mean, he made a pact with a literal devil to save his city! Don't get me wrong, I think I would be friends with him irl, but as for character growth and depth, I think he passes off to be more bland than the rest of the companions, probably for his too goody two shoes attitude.

Let's just say if he was a spice, he would be flour. Sorry.

7. Minthara

You see, a long time ago my first playthrough, when I met Minty, I seriously contemplated killing all the Tieflings just to be with her. This is just to let you have an idea of the hold this woman has on me. HAVE YOU SEEN HER? Apart from being a hottie, and incredibly useful in combat as a paladin, she is hilarious without even trying. When you see an [ ! ] over her head you know for a fact she is about to tell something UNHINGED. I'm gagging.

Anyway, just so you know I haven't sacrified the tieflings to recruit her. I'm not a monster. I simply knocked mommy out and found her in Moonrise Towers.

6. Lae'zel

I believe Giths and Drows are quite similar: they both crave violence and see any kind of kindness and compassion as weaknesses. But what makes Lae'zel a better character than Minthara, is the fact that she evolves from her prejudices and violence, while the drow doesn't. She starts off as this ruthless and closeminded character, but later on she learns to challenge authority and her tyrant, save her people, find compassion in others and fall in love.

I think her romance is one of the best ones in the game. It starts off as a simple one night stand where she tries to dominate you, pure physical, but then she starts to soften and open up to Tav. I mean the rooftop scene where she calls you Source of my Joy?? Sounds more like Bae'zel to me.

5. Gale of Waterdeep

To be honest, Gale is literally my type irl: a hot scruffy nerd whose ideal Saturday night is reading a book and drinking some wine in front of the fireplace. Also, he has a cat! He is a bit of yapper, I know, but I find him quite charming, even though he eats magical boots from time to time in order not to explode and kill everyone in the vicinity

I believe Gale had the potential to be a heart-throb, but the only thing that gave me the ick about him, was the fact that he is too obsessed with his ex! I get it, she is the goddess of magic, but that doesn't change the fact the she literally groomed him since he was a child. He was willing to go full Manhattan Project just to get her approval. You are cute magic man, but you need to get over your ex.

4. Halsin

May the Oakfather protect me. He is such a dreamboat. He is kind and forgiving with everyone, loves animal and nature - duh, is great with kids, and let's not forget he is absolutely gigantic (points for him). He even carves out a wooden duck for you at the end, so cute! I love the fact that he knows his boundaries and is particularly attentive to respect everyone, like when he flirts with Tav but will wait for them to speak with their partner in order to have an open relationship.

I know he may not have the same depth some other characters have, but who cares?? Teddy Bear over here is fine as he is. What can I say, I'm a sucker for big men that try to be gentle.

3. Shadowheart

Shar's favourite Princess is one of my favourite characters in the game. She starts off as being wary and skeptical about Tav, but she quickly opens up as soon as one shows her kindness. Which is heartbreaking since she led her life following the Lady of Loss, hence without any kindness or compassion. Her backstory is particulary well made, so that you can truly see her growth: from standoffish, she ends up being such a goofy and sweet character. From putting all her faith in a goddess that has literally taken everything from her, she then learns how to discover herself and prioritise her feelings for the first time. I love that for her.

She is quite frustraing sometimes since she keeps missing in combat, but we love our emo babygirl anyway.

2. Astarion

So, the only reason I didn't put Astarion in first place, is because I know for a fact that in real life I would LOATHE the man. But we're not irl, so his gaslighting and manipulative tricks are overshadowed by his witty answers, his flirtatious expressions and the incredible velvety voice of his (thanks Neil Newbon). And to think that I thought I had successfully avoided the Vampire phase... well, I hadn't met this diva right here.

His backstory is one of the most heartbreaking, and with the right choices, I believe he can grow more than any other companion, which is why he is such a fan favourite among the fans. He starts off as being a vain and manipulative twink, but as you get to know of his past and the horrible things he has been through, you realise he is simply a victim that doesn't know any better.

I just love his confession scene to Tav: "I had a nice, simple plan - seduce you and manipulate your feelings. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do was not fall for you... which is where my nice simple plan fell apart." EXCUSE ME?? WHAT ARE WE TALKING ABOUT??

1. Karlach

She's an icon, she's a legend, and she is the moment.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Karlach officially is the most likable companion of this messy rank. From the first moment you meet her, it's so difficult not to fall in love with this fireball of energy and kindness. Her backstory is probably the saddest of them all: a hopeful kid that gets betrayed and forced to live with a deadly engine that will one day burn her from the inside, like a tragic metaphor for an illness.

She is also smocking hot (and not just because she is literally burning), I mean, the tats, the muscles, the badass hair and half horn?? Child, she ate and left no crumbs. She is a total smokeshow, and despite her bubbly personality she is not afraid to be a bit sexy and flirtatious. Can we talk about the: "I wanna ride you 'till you see stars" YES MA'AM, PLEASE MA'AM.

But in spite of everything bad that has happened to her, Karlach is always smiley, loves her friends deeply and uses every moment to be a goofball and dance around. She is too pure for this world, which is why you feel that her horrible fate is particularly unfair to someone like Karlach. To be honest, her scene in the harbour after defeating the brain is heartbreaking.

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

So folks, here it is my personal ranking from least to most likable companions of Baldur's Gate 3.

Let me know what do you think!

[vonlycaonwife]

Wise, Billy, Ben, Anton, and Lycaon w/ shy and oblivious reader hcs

I decided to combine a couple of similar requests together into one because it seemed easier! Plus I thought this combo would be more interesting together then separated!

Warnings: none

Oh boy, if the teasing from Belle wasn't bad enough when he was sure it was just him crushing. Then it's way worse once Fairy enters the picture.

Fairy very much had to spell it out to him that they were crushing hard on him! He just thought they were socially awkward!

Now he has no idea what to do! He was fine! But now seeing the obvious signs makes him all shy and awkward too. Belle and Fairy are having a field day in the back.

Though once he's given himself a big enough pep talk, he doesn't really have any trouble trying to ask them for a date.

…at least he didn't think it would be that hard. But now he's dealing with a whole ‘nother issue! They're oblivious! Belle is cackling at his dilemma!

All I can say is good luck to him, he's gonna need it.

Nicole, Anby, and Nekomata are all screaming internally at these two! 

There's no hope for them, no matter how much they've tried to just outright tell either of then it doesn't work!

“Whaaaaat? Psh! No way! They don't have a crush on me.” Billy for the love of all that is holy THEY BLUSH ALL THE TIME YOU ARE NEAR!

“H-Huh?! M-Me? N-No way!” …my friend Billy has only let you hold his guns, he doesn't even let the other hares do that!

Even Wise and Belle have a hard time getting the both of them to understand their feelings are mutual, and they have a higher success rate!

Okay I can see Ben having a better time than the last two solely because he would be very genuine in his confession that even the most oblivious person wouldn't be able to misinterpret it.

But getting to that point is the hard part, as I can see him first thinking that the reason they're nervous around him is because they're scared of him. 

It would take a lot of convincing from the other Belobog employees to make him think otherwise.

And then the next challenge comes in, trying to find the best time to talk. Honestly this would be the biggest hurdle since he would be very busy working on the company's finances.

But once he has the time, he definitely takes this opportunity to tell them about how he feels!

Yeah…this is basically the same as Billy. The others are screaming at the double obliviousness. 

It doesn't help when Anton is constantly calling them his bro, which makes things worse. 

Belobog's only hope is to just stick these two into a closet and wait until they finally say something, even then there's a chance it just makes things even worse!

Honestly I'm praying for these two, and everyone trying to help them.

This man has a way better chance than everyone, since he wouldn't need to be told that they're crushing on him like the others. He probably already knew.

He knows he's handsome, so it wouldn't be hard to pinpoint exactly why they're so shy around him. If anything Rina would be able to confirm his suspicions easily if he needed a second opinion.

Though for him to go about confessing, that's where his troubles lie. Since while he would be making these romantic gestures, it would catch him off guard when they're misinterpreted as platonic.

Luckily he's usually able to bounce back quite easily, quickly explaining his intentions. King of communication here.

Honestly it would be hard for him not to be successful at confessing since he's very thorough in making sure his feelings are known.

[spyres]

bootleg pokemon advent calender review

so my mom got me this pokemon-themed advent calender filled with a bunch of bootleg figurines earlier this month and i opened the first door at the time but i completely forgot about it until now. so with it being christmas eve i thought it would be fun to go through each figurine for funsies because i'm utterly fascinated with what i got.

day one: muk

this was the only one i had knowledge of throughout the entire month. at first i was thinking "well if you look at it as muk's shiny then it could be passable" before remembering that muk's shiny is green and not blue. regardless, congrats to muk on the blue goo and pronouns. 3/10

day two: reuniclus

i can never spell this damn thing's name. i was pleasantly surprised to see reuniverse though, as it was evident that this calender wasn't going to just be filled with gen one pokemon like i suspected. gen five was actually tied with gen one for the most figurines with six, surpringly! unfortunately there's nothing after gen six though, not even any regional variants.

back to reunicorn, this is definitely on the higher end just for being the correct colour lmao. the bottom part of reunionize does not look like that though. 8/10

day three: clefairy

one of the better figurines for sure! while it's still evidently of bootleg quality, it could feasibly pass as official just for being the correct colours. her doing the little metronome dance from the anime in her posing is a nice touch too! 9/10

day four: tyrunt

oh my god they poured tar on him. why are his eyes soulless. he looks possessed. this makes me sad i don't like this one. 2/10

day five: dedenne

she's a little confused but she's got the spirit, i think. needs to be more orange but i guess looking like you're made of cheese is fitting for a mouse-like creature. 6/10

day six: miltank

ohhh i really hate this thing. i'm not a miltank hater by any means but this one looks gross and mouldy to me. girl go have a bath. 1/10

day seven: arbok

WHAT DID THEY DO TO MY GIRL!!!!!! SHE'S FUCKING NAKED!!!!!! sure they got the colour right but they stole her patterns!!! her most stunning feature!!!!!! she was proud of those patterns!!!! AND THEY STOLE THEM FROM HER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! hatred and anger/10

day eight: primeape

i don't want to make any comments about the eyes since i don't have strabismus, but i like that they kept his anger. the personality still manages to shine through here. the rest of the figurine is just. whatever. not the worst but not the best just completely average. 5/10

day nine: pansage

sorry the picture is ass i don't want to retake it lol. confession: while i don't really have any strong opinions on the elemental monkeys compared to a lot of fans, i do have a bit of a soft spot for pansage because i think he's adorable. rewatching the bw anime a few years back awoke that in me, and i think this one is pretty cute too! something about the :3 face just gets to me. despite missing its cream colouring, i think one is pretty solid overall! 7/10

day ten: victini

behold the extremely rare and powerful mythical pokemon victini! truly a marvel to witness! anyway i don't like that it's missing its teeth but it's okay i guess. 4/10

day eleven:

i don't really have much to say on this one tbh? i like that they gave it a stand since it would just fall over with those stubby little legs i guess but i just. don't see anything to really talk about here. 3/10

day twelve: grumpig

not as soulless-looking as tyrunt was, and maybe it's helped partially by grumpig already having some dark grey in its usual colour scheme so it doesn't look thaaat unusual, but it's still not a good one. 3/10

day thirteen: slowking

gives me the same gross and mouldy vibes as miltank but not as bad i think. i like the pose. i don't think i've ever seen slowking cross its arms like that in any official pokemon media or merch so there's some points for uniqueness. 4/10

day fourteen: darumaka

my son murngus who i fed a ball. i love this thing. this is peak. we're never getting any better than this. tpci should make this official merch. love and peace/10

day fifteen: swirlix

this is my daughter white boy. while i have criticisms with the lumps being too pronounced (they should be softer and more subtle imo) and the lack of feet, i honestly kinda love this one? it reminds me of those pathetic white dogs that look like they'll fall over if you breathe on them too hard, and while the big bumps don't give the image of candy floss like they're supposed to, this reminds me of a cloud in a way, which is still lovely to think about. 9/10

day sixteen: beartic

who hurt you beartic. the colours are right at least but. the face. 3/10

days seventeen, eighteen and nineteen: croconaw, totodile, feraligatr

i got the whole family one after another so might as well cover them together.

croconaw: the sniler...... croconaw manages to be the definition of both creepy AND wet here. it's unsettling a little bit but it gives it some personality. 6/10

totodile: i do not like that mouth whatsoever. what the fuck. 2/10

feraligatr: i have to question why feraligatr is a slightly different shade of blue than its younger siblings but that's neither here nor there. it's alright but the eyes are a bit unnerving to me. 4/10

day twenty: chimchar

the only gen four pokemon of the batch, which is sad for me as a gen four fan. it's fine but this one lacks chimchar's signature flame tail. unfortunate since chimchar canonically farting out fire is a key characteristic to me. 5/10

day twenty one: gothitelle

i look like this irl. not really much to complain about with this one side from the lack of a mouth and the face being white rather than purple. i like the complete and utter torment in her eyes. i could fix her fr. 7/10

day twenty two: grovyle

dedicating this one to my fellow pmd fans! they fucking peeled our lad!! the pose is kinda cool though. 6/10

day twenty three: aurorus

this one is a falls into the category of ugly cute to me. they used the wrong shade of blue but it's still fine imo. i simultaneously like the eyes but also don't like them. i'm very conflicted on how i feel about the finer details of this one but it's okay overall imo. 6/10

day twenty four: psyduck

ngl i was kinda hoping for something special for the last one. maybe delibird to go with it being for christmas, or another legendary/mythical, but i've been rewatching the anime again recently and they are so fucking mean to misty's psyduck that it's borderline unpleasant to watch at times, so you know what? psyduck deserves this.

it's pretty alright for a bootleg too. they got all the colours and key details right, even if it's rather shoddy, so i'll be generous with this one. 9/10

if you read all of this then thank you for joining me on this journey. i'm so glad i spent christmas eve deciding to review shitty knock-off pokemon merch rather than celebrating with my friends and family. and i'm very sorry that i released these beasts from their prison and have made them everyone else's problem now.