#there are actually more lines I could have included but I think my point is made
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ubeb0nes · 3 months ago
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Getting jealous (AGAIN) as Sevika's girlfriend...
you just can't catch a break, huh? your fault for falling in love with this absolute lady-killer
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a/n: ever since i remembered i have free will and can post all my sevika goblin thoughts i have been cooking entire posts up in like under an hour, somebody please help me LMAO
i had too many ideas for the jealous!reader, so here's another. i picture this as being my pit fighter!reader characterization, so do with that what you will :33
it isn't that you hate absolutely anybody looking at Sevika at all
like, you get it. and a part of you loves that everyone else can see just as clearly as you how absolutely captivating she is.
BUT IT GETS TO A POINT-
After the incident with the girl at the bar, Sevika does her best to make sure that you don't feel neglected in public. She slips, of course she does, but she does try like hell
It typically goes that anybody who approaches her, flat out doesn't acknowledge you. it's a by-product of how she's so non-PDA that it slips the mind of these thirsty women that she's even in a relationship
You, being a practical and results-driven individual, remedy this by being a little bolder in public every now and then
Nowadays, Sevika doesn't usually object. She understands why you're doing it now, and she's getting tired of the would-be homewreckers coming onto her too lol
You'll cup her cheek, give her a firm but quick kiss whenever you bring a drink over to her while she's in a game of cards. Come up beside her at the bar and rest your hand on her hip for a while (she fucking loves this one, she won't tell you though)
From then on, people start to get the message. If anybody's heartbroken over it, they become less inclined to showing it
So, you almost want to believe you're imagining things when you clock someone from across the bar who seems to keep giving you the stink eye
you're not dumb
you can see the way she's gesturing between you and Sevika to her friends, shaking her head in disgust. now that's a new one...
Sevika has her human arm over your shoulder while this is happening, the other holding onto her hand of cards. She looks over at you when you pluck the cigarillo out from her fingers and take a drag of your own in distress. She's deeply amused by this
"Okay, baby?" "Mhm. Peachy." You were not peachy. The hell did you do to deserve that look?
For a second Sevika thinks you're mad at her, frowning and angling her body towards you (she notices Ran trying to sneak a look at her cards as she does, and bucks playfully at them). Her eyes flick up to follow your line of vision, and then she understands
She chuckles under her breath.
"You could take her in a fight, princess."
oh, and don't you know it. You shake away the thought though, not wanting to escalate the situation in your head in the case that it's actually not at all what you think it is, and then you look stupid
You ask Sevika if she wants another whiskey and she declines, so you get up to just get yours. You're minding your business by the bar, trying to not grace that table with any more glances when that bites you in the ass as a shoulder checks yours
of course, it's the girl. I guess it wasn't in your head
You make eye contact with her when she looks over her shoulder at you and scoffs, shaking her head. You don't look away even as the bartender slides your drink into your hand
now, you have some options here. most of them include violence to some degree. you're contemplating them all as you're walking back to Sevika, eyes straight ahead
then you catch a few choice words from her table; something, something, "-can she fight..." you don't hear the rest, but does it really matter?
you stop in your tracks. you glance up at your girlfriend who didn't see what happened earlier but is watching you now, brow raised and mouthing what's wrong?
at this point, i don't think this even counts as jealousy, you're just defending your woman's honor
you give her a shake of your head that says don't worry (and now she's definitely worrying), and turn on your heel and make a beeline for the bitch's table
Sevika is about to get up to back you up- for whatever the situation may be- when she sees your posture as you stand over the girl from earlier.
Ran stops her though, grinning from ear to ear. "Let your girl have this, Sev. I wanna see her beat ass." Sevika scoffs, but tentatively sits back down. She trusts your judgement. Whatever your call is-
oh, you're smashing your glass over the girl's head. Ran gives a loud whoop
"You wanna take her from me? Go ahead, try," you'd said while Ran was talking Sevika down. The smile on your face was near-manic. "See what she does when you put your hands on me."
It's not like this woman was exactly tiny or helpless-looking; most in Zaun strived to be neither. But Sevika hadn't been lying when she said you could take her.
It was not a memo she'd received, though.
You couldn't recall what exactly she'd said, but you do know your mind reached an immediate state of singularity when she said she'd kill you before Sevika could do anything about it.
BET
"Goddammit-" Sevika barks out your name as she shoots up from her chair. Ran is doubled over with laughter
She's deceptively fast for her height, and thank fucking god for it. Her human arm wraps around your waist like a vise, pulling you back with ease
She would've been cutting up right with Ran in any other circumstance, given the way you were stancing on the now-dazed woman, fists clenched and shoulders shrugged up like an angry big cat
"Down, girl," she mutters to you. Her lips quirk up at the way you shift your jaw around, obviously still pissed off and ready to scrap
"I was defending your honor." "Mhm. What would I do without you, huh?"
Sevika's in front of you when the woman scrambles up out of her seat to retaliate. Sevika towers over the both of you, and you're nearly completely hidden behind her now as she glares at the woman
"You don't wanna fight her, much less me. Go ahead and clear off."
Maybe jealousy isn't as accurate of a term for you as territorial. You've got nothing to be jealous of, not with how fiercely devoted Sevika is at every turn
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marvelwitchergilmore · 6 months ago
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Busted
Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Rogue has a date, and you and Logan decide to follow. You're just making sure she's safe. But sometimes it's in moments like that, that you find out your 'husband' is the love of your life.
Disclaimer: Mostly chaos, fluffiness, fake dating, mentions of being a soldier, the claws come out briefly, a nosy book club and its members. Some swearing, steam and a little angst. I wrote this over two days so apologies if it becomes spotty. This is a long one. Not Proof Read.
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Rogue had a date. 
Both yourself, Logan and…practically most of the teachers in the school knew about Rogue having a date. 
Yet, despite knowing all of this. And somewhat knowing the guy’s intentions…Logan had decided to follow them. 
And you had found yourself tagging along. 
“And what did you think you were gonna do when they figured out you were following them?” You asked him. “At least this way it just looks like we decided to pick up dinner in town.”
“At the same restaurant?”
“You ask that as if this wasn’t your idea.”
“Oh please,” Logan practically rolled his eyes at you. “I saw what you were actually looking at early. You were caseing the place.”
“I was looking at their opening times.” You countered, if a little harshly. 
“You were casing the joint and you know it. If I wasn’t coming down here, you would have already come.”
You gave a short, heavy sigh. “Fine. I wanted to make sure this wasn’t some kind of set up. I just want her to be safe and have fun.”
“And I want to make sure the guy isn’t a creep.” Logan finalised before opening up the door for you allowing you to step inside. 
“Hello, madam! Ah, good sir! Table for two?” The waiter looked at his list. 
Logan looked and felt a little out of place. He was hoping you could both enter quietly, not have an announcement made to the entire restaurant. 
“Uh, yea. Yes, please.”
The waiter smiled, picking up two menus. “Please, this way.”
“Logan.”
Logan followed your line of sight to see where Rogue and her date were sitting, smiling and laughing with one another as they looked over the menus. 
“Uh, actually, bub?”
The waiter turned around. “Yes, sir?”
“If you don’t mind we’d like to sit…” Logan looked around and found an empty table. “There.”
You saw where he pointed and realised why. Too far back into the restaurant, you’d pass right by the happy couple. 
Sitting where Logan was currently looking, gave you direct sight of the happy couple and with a chance, more coverage from the rest of the guests. 
“There?” The waiter asked, a little offended. “Oh, no, Sir. Please. We have a lovely booth for a couple such as yourself back here. Romantic candle light, a lot more privacy, no?”
You felt yourself blush at what the waiter was trying to subtly say. 
And it seemed that Logan caught on, too. And looked at you, unsure of what to do. 
You gave a small laugh and moved closer to Logan, “I’m sure, but you see, the thing is, my…”
You hesitated a little on your next words. “Husband.”
Christ, you felt that lie weigh on your chest. 
“He was in the army. Not a big fan of not being able to see the door. Just a habit, I suppose.”
The waiter gave a softer smile. “Ah, no worries.” 
Swiftly, he began leading you both towards the table Logan had pointed out. “My sister is serving overseas right now. We are all very proud. Thank you for your service, Sir.”
Logan gave an awkward smile and thanked the waiter before you both sat down with your menus. 
“I thought we were busted then,” Logan shifted in his seat. 
“So did I,” you replied. “So long as they don’t draw any-”
“So, what will it be?” 
Both yourself and Logan jumped at the waiter's sudden reappearance. However, he didn’t seem to notice as he began rattling off the specials. And then the wines. And then came the crash. 
Everyone’s heads turned inside the restaurant. 
Including Rogue’s. 
Quickly, you scooted your chair around so the waiter blocked you from view. By the time he turned back around, muttering about incompetencies about the newer staff members, he excused himself and headed in the direction of the crash. 
You saw Rogue settle her back to talking with her date and you breathed again, pulling your chair back to its original position. 
The waiter returned. 
“So, what will you be having?”
This time he blocked your view from Rogue’s table, giving Logan a clearer view of her date. You could see something flare up in Logan. 
“Uh, we’re gonna need another minute.” You said hurriedly, willing the waiter to walk away. 
And he did. 
For a moment. 
“Logan.”
He turned back to you. “What?”
“Have you decided yet?” The waiter was back. 
Logan took your menu from you and placed it with his before handing it over to the waiter, who seemed shocked for a moment since it took him just as long to realise what Logan was doing. 
“Two cheeseburgers, a side of fries and two sodas. Please.”
The waiter seemed to force his smile a little. “Of course, sir. Anything else?”
“No, thank you.” You replied and the waiter bowed his head before walking away.
For a split second as you looked at Logan, you felt a comfort in your gut. And apparently the look was still clear on your face when he looked back at you. 
“What?”
You shook your head, snapping yourself out of it. “Nothing, just…well, the last time a guy ordered my food for me he ordered me a salad, with a side of vinegar and sparkling water.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, slightly confused. “Is that what you wanted?”
“Fuck no.” You answered honestly. You didn’t want it then, and you sure as hell didn’t want it now. 
Especially the sparkling water. 
Logan looked at you for a moment in a silence you hadn’t known from him before. Then he turned back to watch Rogue’s date. 
And there was that look again. 
“Logan. You can’t kill him from here.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”
You nodded. “I know that. And so does everyone else in this restaurant. At least now I know why Scott doesn’t send you undercover.”
Logan turned back to you. 
“You might be the ‘mysterious, silent’ type but if someone took one look at your face, they’d find their answers.”
“Are you saying I’m easy to read?”
Someone came and placed your drinks down on the table. You shrugged. 
“To the people who know you, yes.”
“Okay, then. Fine.” Logan turned his full attention onto you. “What am I thinking?”
“That I’m wrong. And that you wished you had the powers of invisibility so you could be closer to the table without being seen and mess with her date whilst he can’t see you.”
Logan remained still for a second before shifting in his seat. “Okay, fine. Maybe I am easy to read.”
You smiled and took a sip of your soda. “See.”
For the next twenty five minutes, things ran smoother than expected. You both enjoyed your meals, yourself and Logan talked a little however spent most of your time watching Rogue and her date enjoy their time. 
“What would you do?” 
Logan hummed a questioned response. 
“If you took someone out on a date? What would you do?”
Logan scrunched up his paper napkin and placed it beside his plate. “Why do you want to know?”
You shrugged, looking away from Rogue’s date. “Curiosity? I’ve had that many crappy dates in my time, maybe you can rescue my last sliver of hope.”
Logan felt a smile on his face for a moment, hearing your plea for hope. 
“Oh, come on. They’re talking. If we look at them any longer they might sense someone staring.”
Logan sighed. “Fine.”
“So, what would you do?”
Logan shrugged. “I don’t know. Go for a drink, maybe some food. Honestly, it’s been a while since I’ve dated.”
“Seriously?”
Logan nodded. “Seriously. What about you?”
You thought about it for a moment. “Well, the last date I went on the guy ordered my food for me.”
“Sparkling water guy?” Logan asked. 
You nodded. “One in the same. He spent two hours talking about his businesses, and didn't notice I hadn’t touched my food. Or my drink, for that matter. Then at the end, said that if we ever got married, I wouldn’t have to worry about anything other than what I was going to make him for his dinner each night.”
“Fucking asshole. Why did you stay?”
You decided to answer honestly. “Didn’t have anything else to do. And my friends had been on my case about my dating life. They were all either married or getting married or starting a family, and when they said they knew this “really great guy, you’ll just adore him” I decided to give it a shot.”
“What did they do when they found out he was an asshole?”
“Couple apologised, others asked me to give him a second chance. They haven’t tried setting me up with anyone since.”
Logan watched you for a moment as you pulled your soda to your lips. He wanted to punch the Sparkling Water Guy. He didn’t realise how lucky he was to be on a date with someone like you. And, in all honesty, he wasn’t too happy with your friends either. 
“You deserve better.”
Your eyes widened and for a moment Logan thought he had fucked up, saying that to you out loud. 
“Logan. Logan, quick. Shit.”
Then he noticed where you were looking. Rogue was standing up, as was her date. 
“Shit.”
You looked around you, trying to find the best place to hide yourself. Only Logan found a solution. 
From under the table, he grabbed the bottom of your chair and pulled you closer towards him. 
“Just keep looking at me, hopefully we’ll just blur in with the rest of the crowd.”
And you did. You kept your eyes on Logan. 
In his peripheral vision, he saw Rogue slipping her coat on with her date’s help, who just so happened to rake his eyes up and down her body from the back whilst she wasn’t looking. 
Then he felt your hand on his. 
“Logan,” you whispered to him, getting his attention. 
With your hand on his, you were covering the tips of his claws that started peeking out from between his knuckles. 
“He’s just helping her put her coat on.”
Logan felt the tips of his claws retract, however three small holes were left in the cloth on the table beside his plate. 
“Sorry.”
You just smiled. “It’s okay.”
Then the waiter came back. “Ah, so lovely to see a couple so in love.”
You felt your cheeks go red and hid your face against Logan’s shoulder as he curled his arm around your back and smiled at the waiter. “Can we have the check?”
The waiter nodded. “Of course, just one moment.”
Within seconds, the waiter was back just as Rogue and her date walked out of the door. 
“Have a lovely evening!” The waiter called out to both of you as Logan took your hand and headed for the door. 
Rogue and her date were already half way down the street. 
“Where are they going?”
“Maybe he’s walking her to the cab station?” You offered. 
Logan, with his eyes still fixed on the dates, nodded his head in the opposite direction. “Taxis’ that way.”
Looking back at you, you both made a simultaneous decision and were back to following them. 
“Where the hell could they be going?”
“Maybe they’re just going for a walk. It is still early and they looked like they were having fun. Some couples like to take a walk together after a date.”
“They’re not a couple yet. And this is their first date.” 
You caught up beside Logan and pulled him to a slower pace so neither of you looked like frantic maniacs going down Main Street. 
“If we get any closer, they’re gonna see us.”
“You’re right.”
Yourself and Logan tailed them down the street and around the park before deciding to head back home. “If they’re coming round on the top of the street, they’re gonna see your car.”
Logan looked around him before taking hold of your hand and nearly pulling your arm out of its socket. “This way.”
“Logan, slow down.” You told him. “We aren’t all ten feet tall.”
Thankfully, he did slow down, however didn’t let go of your hand. 
“Do you think we did the right thing? Following them?”
You nodded. “I was questioning it at first but…at least this way we know the guy actually meant what he said when he asked her out. Oh, shit
“What?”
You just managed to push Logan into the doorway of a closed bookstore, pushing his back against the glass. 
“What are you doing?”
“Uhhh,” you panicked. “Nothing. Just a…puddle. Big puddle.”
“It hasn’t rained in three days. What are you-”
Logan stopped when he saw what you had seen. Rogue’s date was about to lean in to kiss her. 
You pushed him back, trying your best to keep him pinned to the wall. “Okay, I get we tailed them most of the night but we have to give them some privacy.”
“Did he even ask?”
“I don’t know, but just keep your voice down. The car is three spaces away. Hopefully they’ll be distracted long enough to-”
You peered back round the corner. “Oh, thank god.”
“What? What’s going on? Has hell opened up and sucked him in?”
You looked back at Logan, a little less than amused. “They’re going into the ice cream shop. Come on, before they see us.”
However, just as you both stepped out of the doorway, you found your path blocked by an elderly woman and her dog. 
She chuckled to herself. “Don’t mind me kids, just taking Frankie on a walk. And don’t worry, honey. I remember when I first met my Harry. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”
You let out a nervous laugh as Logan looked like he was about to burst from embarrassment as he ran a hand through his hair, his shirt coming untucked and showing off a small hint of his torso. 
Mrs Keller watched where your eyes landed and gave you a knowing albeit loving smirk as she watched you move closer to Logan, tugging his shirt down a little and pressing close into his side. 
“We should get going. It was nice seeing you Mrs Keller.”
Mrs Keller waved you both off towards Logan’s car. “I’ll see you for next week's book club?”
You nodded. “I’ll be there.”
“Feel free to bring your husband along,” she called back. “It’ll drive Little Miss Prissy up the wall that you’ve been keeping that Handsome Fella a secret.”
You laughed nervously once again, as Logan gave you a slight smirk despite his initial embarrassment at what the old lady thought you were both doing.  
“Good night, Mrs Keller.” You called out before Logan repeated it. 
She waved you both goodbye before continuing down the street with Frankie walking by her side. 
Closing the passenger door, you covered your face with your hands already feeling Logan’s eyes and teasing smile on you. 
“She was nice.”
“Shut up and drive.”
Logan chuckled, placing his key into the ignition and pulling out of his spot, his hand behind your headrest as he did so when looking over his shoulder. 
Barely five minutes into the drive, Logan started asking you questions. 
“You’re a part of a book club?”
“We all meet every fortnight and talk about books.”
“And Mrs Keller…?”
You sighed. 
“Is one of the founding members. I met her at the library one day when taking some books back. She was at the desk asking if they had the newest Danielle Steel. They didn’t, but I had seen it in the shop window in a bookstore on the other side of town. We walked together and she invited me to join.”
“How was the book?” Logan asked. 
“I cried.” You answered honestly. “First book I actually cried at.”
Logan let out a small laugh and you hit his arm whilst trying to hold in one of your own. “Don’t laugh.”
“I-I’m not laughing. Okay, maybe I am. I mean, it is funny. Is this where you’ve been disappearing every other Saturday?”
You nodded. “Pretty much. They’re a fun group. Well, most of them are.”
“Let me guess?” Logan asked. “Little Miss Prissy?”
You groaned. “She lives two doors down from Eva. Eva can be nice, but Prissy? God, she’s a nightmare. Every time it’s her turn to talk, she somehow manages to turn it back to her and her “ever doting husband” and their “precious baby niece and nephew” and “oh, look at how cute he is with them.” You know, we read American Psycho once. She still managed to turn it back to her husband.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” you continued. “If she wanted to know about anyone else’s love life. Like…” you sighed, thinking of an example. “Mrs Keller? Her and Harry have been together since they were seventeen. They met when they were twelve, lived across the street from each other their entire lives. Mrs Keller had been stood up for one of the local dances by Harry’s friend. So, the minute he found out, he ran over to her house, still covered in motor oil and asked her to the dance. Mrs Keller deserves to write her own romance book for everything that her and Harry have done together. But can she get a word in edgewise? Nope.”
“Sounds like a love for the ages.” Logan said with a soft smile on his lips, looking at you before turning his gaze back to the road in front of him. “And by the sounds of it, Mrs Keller is going to give her something else to talk about.”
You covered your face again. “Oh, god.”
“Hey, come on, it can’t be that bad.”
“How do I tell Mrs Keller I’m not married? She’s gonna think that I’m-”
“What if you didn’t?” 
You turned and looked at Logan. “What?”
“What if you didn’t? Tell them you’re not married? I mean, it’s not like they’re gonna meet me.” Logan explained. “Just…keep up with the lie.”
“And what do I do when they ask me questions?”
Logan shrugged. “Just…bend the truth.”
“Okay,” you sat up in your seat, deciding to test him. “How did we meet?”
“At work. We’re both teachers.”
“When was our first date?”
Logan thought about it. “Six months after we met. We decided to stay up late and ate leftover Chinese food.”
You furrowed your brows. How the hell did he manage to answer these so quickly? Sure, most of it was true. You were both teachers, and the first night you spent alone in the same room together was eating the leftovers in the fridge. Of course, what wasn’t being said was that you both actually met when Logan nearly bulldozed you when he ran into the Professor’s office just after he’d woken up in Jean’s lab. Or how neither of you had properly spoken to one another until that night six months later. 
Or how afterwards, it took a long time for you to make a genuine friendship with him that wasn’t just talking about the team or what the students had to learn in that semester. 
“And then what?” You asked him. “We kissed and lived happily ever after?”
Logan shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
You groaned again. “I hate lying to Mrs Keller.”
“You just lied to her like ten minutes ago. We both did.”
Eventually, Logan pulled up outside of the school and left the car back where he had found it. 
“Like we never left.”
You smiled. “Come on, before she gets back and figures out what we’ve been doing.”
Walking through the school ground and up the front steps, both you and Logan chatted away, laughing a little here and there about anecdotes you were telling him. 
Then you were alone in the middle of the empty hallway, cast in darkness and hints of moonlight. 
“We should get to bed before they get back.”
“I think I might stay up and wait for her to get back. Make sure he didn’t do anything he shouldn’t have done.”
You stepped a little closer to him. “Be nice, Logan.”
“I’m always nice.”
You just raised an eyebrow at him. 
“Okay, fine.” Logan sighed a laugh. “I’ll be nice.”
“Thank you. Tell me how it goes?”
Logan nodded. “Course.”
However, as you both stood together in the hallway, soaking in the vision of the other, you both heard footsteps. 
“Shit.”
Logan looked around. “Here.”
Taking your hand, Logan pulled you into the small space besides the bookshelf and the window. 
Being pressed between the wall and him, you felt his scent and body heat swirl around you and mix with your own. Your own heartbeat was drumming so loud in your eardrums you could hardly hear what Rogue was saying when she was talking to her date. 
From above you, Logan leaned down, his eyes roaming across your face, whilst you found your own gaze doing the same. 
Your heartbeat seemed to drum harder and faster against your chest, your lungs trying to find an even pace to breathe at. 
But you weren’t the only one struggling with that. 
Because Logan’s breathing had become laboured as he looked at you, wanting the space between you both to be further so he could think clearer and not do something you both could regret, but at the same time, for you to be closer to him so he could cross that line. 
You swallowed thickly, trying your best to keep your gaze from his lips. 
You were failing. 
“Logan…”
“Y/n…”
The hand you had pressed against his chest slid up his chest before you took a wad of the loose fabric by his collar in your hands, holding him closer, begging for that line to be crossed. Just as you did so, his own hand pushed the hair from beside your face, his hand gripping onto the space between your neck and your shoulder. Maybe if he forced himself, he wouldn’t move his hand and he wouldn’t cross that line. 
“Alright, where are you two?”
You and Logan stilled. “Maybe if we’re quiet…”
Rogue started walking around. “You wouldn’t have gone to bed yet. Where are you? Oh, come on. I saw you both in the restaurant.”
You and Logan sighed and he closed his eyes, leaning a little further into you. You didn’t want him to leave. 
“Busted.”
Slowly, you and Logan came out from your hiding spot and Rogue spun around her heels. “There you both are.”
“Look, before you yell, you need to know something.”
Rogue crossed her arms, waiting. 
“It was Y/n’s idea.”
“Logan.”
But rather than yell, Rogue laughed a little. “Why does something tell me that’s a lie?”
Logan shrugged. “It might be part of a lie.”
You gave a sigh. He was hopeless. 
“We just wanted to make sure you were safe. And, if you want to know, we’ve already learnt our lesson.”
“Really?”
Logan nodded in agreement with you. “Just take our word for it.”
“So, how did your date go?”
Rogue smiled. “If you must know, we’re going out again next Saturday. He’s going to take me to the movies and then we’re gonna go bowling.”
“That sounds like fun.”
“It will be,” Rogue said. “So long as you two promise to not follow us this time?”
You crossed a sign over your heart. “I swear.”
Rogue waited for Logan to do the same, and only when you nudged him did he do so. “But I’m dropping you off.”
“Just agree,” you told Rogue. “It’ll be easier on all of us.”
Rogue agreed. “Fine. You can drop me off.”
Not long after that, both yourself and Logan went to bed whilst Rogue walked towards the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before doing the same. 
“Are we being overprotective?”
“She’s just a kid, Y/n. We’re allowed to be.”
Logan walked you to your door, both of you calling goodnight to each other. However, you didn’t fall asleep. 
At least for the first couple of hours. 
Mrs Keller thought you were married. 
Married to the same man you were friends with.
The same friend you had almost kissed. 
The same friend who had almost kissed you. 
By the time you woke up the next morning, you seemed to be the only one awake. It was no surprise though, considering you were still three hours off the clock having a one at the beginning of it. 
“Morning.”
You jumped a little when you heard a voice before you opened your eyes to confirm it was Rogue’s voice who had spoken to you. 
“What are you doing up? It’s 7 am. And a Sunday.”
Rogue gave a smile. “Could ask you the same thing.” Rogue told you. “Figured you’d be wrapped in Logan’s arms right now.”
Your back was to her as you opened up one of the doors to the fridge, however became completely still and forgot why you’d opened the damn thing in the first place. 
“What?”
Turning around, you saw Rogue and her smirk, sip at her coffee. 
“I saw you and Logan last night.”
Beside the bookcase? 
“At the restaurant?” Rogue was confused by the more than panicked look on your face. She had said she saw you both, when she got home last night, didn’t she. “You and Logan were sat at the table by the window?”
“Oh…” You felt your heart leave the vice you’d just locked it in. “Oh, yeah.”
Rogue smiled again. “Looked pretty cosy if you ask me.”
“Good job no one’s asking you.”
Milk. That’s why you opened the fridge. 
Taking the carton out, you closed it behind you and reached for a bowl and some cereal. 
“All snuggled up together, his arm around you. I was pretty sure he would have kissed you if the waiter didn’t interrupt. Though, if he didn’t, maybe you would have done more than kiss at that table.”
“Rogue!”
She laughed. “What? Oh, come on. I’ve seen the way you look at each other. Seen the way he looks at you.”
She mumbled that last sentence into her coffee cup leaving you questioned just exactly what she meant by it. 
“It’s too early in the morning for this,” you grumbled to yourself, replacing the cereal box in the cabinet. 
“You could always go back to bed.” Rogue offered. “Or go and see if Logan wants some company.”
You turned around a slightly shocked, slightly disgusted look on your face. “Oh my god.”
“I’m kidding.” Rogue laughed out. “Kinda.”
“When did you grow up?” You asked out loud, coming to the daily realisation that Rogue wasn’t the little kid you had first met when she arrived at the school but was, in fact, very quickly on her way to becoming a full grown woman. After all, she had started taking on a small time tutoring job and she was still a couple months away from graduation. 
The rest of the day went smoothly. Well…as smooth as it could go when you were having a constant internal flashback to the night before. Mrs Keller and what she thought you and Logan were doing, it almost happening beside the bookcase, and then you walked in on him in his bathroom. 
He had said it was safe for you to come inside, and you had happened to see him shirtless a couple of times. Though never in sync with a time when at least two people on the planet thought you were married, another one was trying to convince you she saw, at the very least, something similar to what the others had and the two minutes spent beside the bookcase which you had thought about over and over. 
“Hank is asking if you want corn or peas.” You told Logan as you walked inside, trying your best not to yell or scream out loud and retreat away. 
“Either is fine. You okay?”
You snapped your eyes back to Logan’s face. “Hm? Oh, yeah. Fine. Have you talked to Rogue?”
“Not today,” he replied. “Why? Should I have done?”
You couldn’t help but shudder. “No. That kid is scary.”
You heard Logan laugh as you closed the door a little as you headed back out. 
“Hey, wait.”
You opened the door again, holding onto the frame for dear life. “Yeah?”
“About last night…”
“What about last night?” You tried your best to remain as casual as possible, though it didn’t help when you remembered Logan was practically a walking lie detector. 
He could hear your heartbeat. 
And it was only getting faster. 
You told yourself to calm down. 
It was only a question. 
A big question. 
That he hadn’t finished. 
Was he going to tell you to forget about it? Was he going to pretend it didn’t happen? Did it happen? Had you made the entire thing up? Was the line that you thought had blurred for a second been completely in bold this entire time and hadn’t shifted?
“Thanks…for coming with me…I know you would have gone anyway. But, I’m glad you didn’t try to stop me.”
You smirked a little. “Logan, you’re made of metal. The only practical way I could have is if I owned an industrial magnet.”
Logan chuckled a little. “Still. I’m glad you came. It’s nice to know the kid’s not alone, you know?”
You nodded. “I know. Anyway, I should probably…”
“Yeah, yeah. I, uh, I’ll meet you down there.”
You nodded, letting your eyes take a mental picture of Logan before you shut the door again and headed downstairs and back into the kitchen. 
“He said either.”
Hank nodded and turned back to the stove. 
“You were up there for a while,” Rogue appeared by your side. “And you look a little flushed.”
You turned your head to look at her and glared. “I do not.”
“You do look a little red in the cheeks, Y/n.” Hank added from where he was standing, busying himself by the stove. 
“Maybe I’m coming down with something.” You pressed your hands to your cheeks to hide them. 
Rogue stood in front of you and pressed the back of her hand to your head. “You don’t feel hot, maybe- Oh, hey Logan!”
Rogue broke out into a wide grin.
Logan was a little shocked by Rogue’s enthusiasm. “Hey, kid.”
“Come here, does Y/n feel hot to you? She’s looking a little flushed.”
“Rogue.” You warned under your breath. But she just smiled and pulled Logan over where her hand was replaced by Logan’s. 
And there it was again. 
That same…difference. 
Just like when you stood in front of him when you both got back, before you hid beside the bookcase. 
“N-no. She feels…she feels okay.”
Rogue looked back at Hank who was trying his best to hide his smile. “Why, Logan, you’re looking a little flushed yourself.”
Logan quickly stepped back, as did you. Only, you fell into the counter and gripped onto it for dear life. 
You looked down at the floor. 
“Maybe you’re coming down with something, too. I hope it’s not catching.”
Logan shook his head. “I can’t get sick.”
Hank hummed. “Must be something else then.”
“Must be.” Logan’s voice was quiet as he looked at you and found you looking back. 
Though you couldn’t look for too long, feeling your cheeks heat up again. 
“I better-”
“Yeah, I’m gonna-”
Both yourself and Logan headed in opposite directions. Yourself out of the kitchen the way you came in, and Logan out through the back door and into the gardens. 
Eventually, you made it to your room and locked your door before moving over to the mirror. You did look flushed. Even more so when your brain projected the feeling of Logan’s hands on you from the night before, as well as the look on his face from thirty seconds ago. 
By the time dinner rolled around, yourself and Logan tried to keep your distance until you both suddenly found yourself seated beside each other, taking one look at each other and then taking a large gulp of your drink. 
Your main suspect for the forced seating arrangement was Rogue. She had been the one to lay out the cards. Three days previous, you were sure you had been sat beside her and Storm. 
And when you looked over to her and found her smiling in your direction, you had your confirmed culprit. 
For most of the night, you were kept distracted by the stories being told by everyone as you all caught up with one another from the past couple of months or so. 
It was a few days until things felt normal between you and Logan. At least to the extent where you didn’t feel yourself visibly flush at the sight of him. 
And everything seemed normal. 
Until Saturday. 
You had already left - Logan being the only one to know where you actually were heading off to. 
“Okay, but Logan, you’re not allowed to get out of the car.” Rogue told him. “You’re just dropping me off. And you’re not allowed to come into the movie theatre, either.”
“What if I want to see a movie?”
“Not tonight, you’re not.” Rogue told him. “I like this guy, okay. And I think having The Wolverine sat behind us both isn’t going to make things easier.”
Logan sighed. “Okay, fine. I won’t come into the movie theatre.”
“Promise?” 
Logan nodded, and crossed his heart. “Promise.”
“And you can’t send Y/n in, either.”
“Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. She’s busy.”
“Let me guess, on a date at the movie theatre?”
Logan held back his smirk. “No, smartass. She’s at a book club. But you can’t tell the others. She doesn’t want them to know.”
“Y/n’s part of a book club?”
Logan nodded and stifled a laugh as he flicked on his indicator and turned down a side street. “Yeah, it shocked me too.”
“You wouldn’t happen to be the mysterious husband they’re all talking about?”
As a red light came on, Logan slammed on his breaks a little too hard. “What? How would you know about-”
“Y/n took me to the library. There were a load of women looking at her. She was outside but when I asked her about it she said it was nothing. But I definitely heard them talking about her being married.”
Logan looked back to the road. 
“Logan?”
“Yeah.”
“It's green.”
A car behind him honked and Logan quickly got moving, all the while feeling Rogue’s eyes on him. 
“Oh, my god.” Rogue smiled and turned back to the road in disbelief. 
“What?” 
Logan was beginning to feel a little panicked. Though he didn’t quite know why. 
“You are him.” Rogue stated. “Oh, my god. Is this what you meant by ‘learning your lesson’? Did something finally happen?”
Logan was confused. “Finally? What do you mean finally?”
“I mean finally.” Rogue repeated. “Jesus, Logan. Have you not seen the way you look at her? How she looks at you?”
“How she looks at me?” Logan questioned. 
Since when did driving Rogue to her second date become a time for confessions?
“Hank was right, you both really are as bad as each other.”
Logan had to shake his head. “Wait, Hank? Beast Hank?”
Rogue could help but laugh. 
For months Rogue had watched Logan and yourself get close to each other. She had to watch as the looks Logan gave you went from untrusted, to familiar, to friendly to…everything after the fact of trust. Not only could you see it in his eyes that he trusted you, but you could also see what he was too scared to admit to himself. 
He was in love with you. 
And had been for quite some time. 
Of course, Rogue had only noticed this in the last couple of months. 
Except, when talking with Hank as he cooked and she mostly watched and snacked on the parts he wasn’t using for the main meals, she realised it had been going on for years. 
How you had looked at Logan. Intrigue, civil, uncharted, familiar, friendly, safe and,,,love. 
And apparently Hank hadn’t been the only one in agony watching both of you. According to him, so were the rest of the team. 
They were all just surprised nothing had actually happened yet. 
“W-why are you laughing?” Logan’s gaze kept flicking from the passenger seat beside him to the road ahead until he finally pulled up outside the movie theatre. 
“Because you’re both idiots.”
Logan didn’t look entirely amused. “Thanks, kid.”
“Look, I could tell you but…you need to work this one out for yourself. Thanks for dropping me off.”
As Rogue stepped out of the car, she closed the door and walked away. However, a few paces from the car she stopped and turned back around. 
“Fuck it, I’m just gonna tell you.” 
Leaning back inside the car, Logan looked back at her. 
“You love her. And she loves you.” Rogue told him. “You’ve both loved each other for a long time and it’s about time you both do something about it before time passes and you’re both too chicken shit to do something about it. There is a reason everyone already thinks you're a couple, and that’s because when neither of you are thinking, you both act like it anyway. You should really see the way you look at each other, Lo. I hope I can find that some day, too. It’s rare. Don’t let it slip past you. Either of you.”
Rogue watched as Logan soaked in all of her words and then settled back behind the steering wheel. 
Reaching into her bag, Rogue pulled out a book. “This was on the counter when I came downstairs.”
Logan took it from her. It was a new book. The new book you would be discussing about. Tonight. 
“Figured she might need that. Maybe you can drop it off with her?”
Logan looked at Rogue and gave a smile. “Thanks, kid.”
Rogue shrugged. “Just mention me during your wedding speech.”
Shutting the car door, Rogue watched as Logan pulled out of his parking spot and drove down the street, turning the corner to head towards the address you had given him earlier that week. 
“Just in case you or Rogue needs me.” You had told him. 
Pulling up outside the house, KELLER written on the mailbox, Logan turned off the engine, took the book from the passenger seat and headed up the porch steps and knocked on the screen door. 
From inside he heard laughing before a familiar face opened up the door. 
“Oh, my. Logan, isn’t it?”
Logan nodded, trying his best to hide the flush on his cheeks. “Mrs Keller. I’m hoping Y/n is here. She left her book and I thought-”
Mrs Keller gave a wide smile and pushed open the screen door for him to come in. “Of course. The more the merrier. Your wife will be happy to see you, I’m sure. Follow me.”
As he did so, Logan soon found himself entering a second living room where around a dozen people were sitting in somewhat of a circle, either on the sofas or on the floor. 
“Look who’s come for a surprise visit!” Mrs Keller announced. 
Everyone turned with welcoming smiles and slightly shocked expressions. 
“Logan.” You weren’t expecting to see him. 
“Hey,” Logan breathed with a smile at seeing you. “Rogue. She picked up your book and I thought you might need it.”
You stood and took it from him softly. “Thanks.”
“Well, honey? Aren’t you going to give him a proper hello?”
Suddenly you and Logan felt a dozen pairs of eyes on you both and with a slight awkwardness, you leant up and kissed his cheek. 
“Oh, come on. Girls, I tell you. Last week they were like two teenagers.”
You felt your cheeks go bright red and you hid your face with the cover of your book. The only comfort was Logan’s hand that hadn’t left your hip since you stepped into him to kiss his cheek. 
“Oh, Logan, please. Will you stay?”
Logan looked around the room. It was the first time he understood the expression “Feeling like you were going to be eaten alive.”
“No, no. This is…your thing. I don’t want to intrude-”
“Nonsense! Besides, we’ve been dying to know more about our little mystery.” Mrs Keller said with nothing but affection. 
“Who knew mystery could have so much romance?” 
Logan turned to where the voice came from and by your reaction, he gauged the voice belonged to Prissy. Who’s name he would soon learn was Pricilla. 
“I’d love to.” Logan replied, looking back to Mrs Keller. 
“Wonderful!” She clapped her hands together and got comfortable in her chair. “Oh, Darwin, honey, come and sit by me so the lovebirds can sit together.”
The sofa in which Darwin had been sitting was as big as a seat and a half. So, when Logan did finally sit down, you were practically sitting on his lap, the only comfortable position you could find yourself in was tucked in by his side, your legs over his whilst his hand held your knees on his thighs. 
Thankfully, your back was supported by the arm of the chair, but either way you felt yourself melt into Logan’s side, his body heat warming you. The fire Mrs Keller had on in the hearth was enough to heat the room but there was just something about Logan’s warmth that made it…different. 
“Oh, you two just make the most adorable couple.” Mrs Keller smiled, watching the pair of you, noticing the smiles you gave each other as you both finally got comfortable in being so close to one another. “Like no one else is in the room.” 
Logan heard Rogue’s words echo inside of his head. 
She was right. 
“Oh, you have to tell us how you met? Please.” Daisy asked from the floor beside the coffee table. 
Prissy coughed. “Aren’t we more interested in discussing this week’s book?”
A chorus of “No” sounded out. 
With a shlump, Prissy sat back with a noise stuck at the back of her throat. 
“Oh, tell us how you met!” Darwin called out. “Start at the very beginning.”
“You know it’s gonna be a good story when they look at each other like that.” Daisy added on. 
Prissy leaned forward. “You know, if you want a good love story, I can always tell you about how me and my darling husband met.”
Dawin groaned. Loudly. “We already know your story, Pricilla.”
“God knows we’ve heard it enough,” Mrs Keller mumbled. 
“We want a new story and we want to hear about Y/n and Logan.”
You looked at Logan and Logan looked back. Something seemed different about him. It was almost like something was gleaming inside of him. You just couldn’t figure out what. Or why. 
But you loved seeing a new side of him. 
There was just something that made your stomach flip and your heart grow when Logan showed you another side of him. A side he didn’t let people see that often. Sometimes a side he wouldn’t let himself see. 
“We met at work.” Logan told them. 
“Yeah, he nearly bulldozed me in the Professor’s office.”
“I did not.”
“You did.” You countered. “I almost got a concussion from how hard you opened up that door.”
“You weren’t even near the door.”
“No, because I jumped out of the way when you did.”
Mrs Keller smiled. “Let me guess, you didn’t get off on the right foot?”
You shrugged. “Not particularly.”
“It took time…about six months before we had a real conversation. And even then it took time.”
Mrs Keller smiled with a knowing look. “The best ones always do.”
Over the next two hours, you and Logan were asked question after question. Most of them scolding you for not mentioning or bringing Logan to the book meetings sooner so they could all meet him. 
Eventually, you did get onto the book you had all read. Prissy spent most of the time talking about the book and Logan got to witness first how she took the descriptions of a bird and placed the conversation back on her husband and what they had done during the week. 
The first time, Logan could see it almost as sweet. After that it just got tedious. 
But he couldn’t care. Not when he felt you fall into his side, allowing for his arm to come around your back, his hand fanned out across the exposed skin from your hip where your t-shirt had come untucked from your jeans. 
As the fire in the hearth settled into a constant warmth, people started to get more relaxed and cosier, pulling up blankets, putting on Mrs Keller’s complimentary cosy socks. 
Apparently she had a pair for everyone. 
“Let me go and get some more snacks and then we can talk about chapter fifteen.” Mrs Keller gave a small gasp. “I didn’t see it coming.”
But you shot to your feet. “No, you sit down. Let me.”
“Oh, thank you, dear.”
Sitting back down, Logan stood with you and walked into the kitchen with you. 
For a moment, you both talked about the book club and everything that had just happened before a comfortable lul came and you both realised you had to talk about the elephant in the room. 
“We need to talk.” Logan told you. 
“Do we?”
“Rogue told me something and it’s been on my mind ever since. And I can’t stop thinking how much she might be right.”
You poured some pretzels from the jar into a section of the dish. “Really? It must be bad if you’re agreeing with her.”
“Can you just…look at me for a second?”
You stopped pouring the snacks and looked at Logan, only for him to grab your hands and hold them in his. Running his thumbs over your knuckles, you forced yourself out of your thoughts and back to focusing on the real Logan in front of you. 
“I think I’ve known it for a while, I just don’t think I’ve been able to let myself know it because, if I do…look, I’ve lost a lot of people.”
He was scaring you now. 
“Logan, what’s going on?”
“I’ve lost a lot of people,” he finally looked you in the eye. “But I’ve come to realise you are not someone I can lose, Y/n. I don’t want to lose you. But if I don’t tell you something now, there might be a day when I could still lose you anyway.”
“Logan, you’re scaring me. Has something happened? What did Rogue say to you? I told you not to talk to her. That kid can be scary.”
Logan chuckled at that. It was true. Especially more recently. Very recently, in fact. 
“I’m in love with you, Y/n.”
You felt yourself falter and stiffen at his words. 
“You are the person I trust the most in this world, and I don’t say that lightly. I trust you and I love you. But I can’t lose you. So…” Logan took a breath. “Please tell me if I’m going to lose you because of this, because I don’t want to. I don’t want to ever lose you. Especially over something that I’ve done.”
“You…you love me?” You questioned. “Logan…how…when…Logan, you can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because you…you just can’t.” 
You were in shock and disbelief. “I’m not someone you fall in love with.”
“Little late for that.”
“I’m being serious.” Pulling your hands from his, you walked away for a second. You needed space. You needed to breathe. You needed…you needed…
“So am I.”
You couldn’t help but scoff. “Logan…I…you…we…we don’t…”
“We don’t…what?” Logan asked you. 
“We don’t fit, Logan. We…we spent years building…us. Don’t you think that couples tend to know- if not instantly, a little sooner than us?”
“Y/n. I love you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I love you.”
Logan started walking closer to you, repeating his words with every step. 
“Logan, you don’t.”
Taking you by the shoulders, he looked you in the eyes. “Yes, I do. And…I’d wager to say you feel the same, too.”
“Logan…”
“Just listen to me.” Logan begged. “Please.”
And so you did. 
“Coming in here to tell you this? I didn’t expect you to tell me the same. I still don’t. I get you’re scared. Hell, I’m terrified. But the only thing that is keeping me from running out of that door is you. I know you, Y/n. And you know me, so when I stand here telling you that I love you, you know I’m not lying. You know that you are the only person I cannot lie to. I respect you too much to do that.” 
Logan continued. 
“But just now…you said ‘us’. And after what almost happened the other night and what happened in the kitchen with Hank…hell, even back there with the Town Gossip Board…”
Logan studied your face for a moment. You were fighting back tears, white knuckling the countertop beside you both.
“I can’t lose you, Y/n. So, please, tell me now. Just answer me this and if you want me to walk away I will. Do you love me?”
“Logan…”
Logan’s grip on you tightened for a moment as he bit his lip saying your name. He was desperate for an answer, wishing for you to say yes. For you to tell him not to walk away. 
He couldn’t lose you…but maybe he already had. 
“Please…” His voice broke. “Please.”
And then you broke. 
“Of course I love you.”
Pulling him in by his collar, you held your other hand against his face before kissing him. It wasn’t soft or gentle. It was full of desperate and an outburst of emotion that you couldn’t put into words. You could only hope he knew what you meant by your kiss. 
Almost instantly you felt his hands come to your waist before he pushed against you, kissing you back, allowing his arms to snake up and around your back, holding you flush against his chest. All the while, his lips caught yours once more after half a breath. 
Your tears dried up and your hand fell to Logan’s side as he turned you, your ass bumping against the lower counter in the kitchen. A low groan came from the back of Logan’s throat as your hand dipped under his t-shirt and your fingers raked across his skin and up the side of his torso. 
However, just as Logan was about to lift you onto the counter, you both heard a voice call out from the living room. 
“Did you manage to find the pretzels? They’re in the cabinet above the stove!”
You and Logan pulled away, breathless. With his hands tangled in your hair and your forehead pressed against his, Logan forced a swallow, his cheeks heating as he smiled, still feeling your hand on his skin. 
“Yeah, we’ve got em’!” Logan called out. “We’ll be there in a second.”
You let out a small laugh, as did Logan. 
“How long have you got left here?”
You turned your head to look at the rustic clock above the kitchen dresser. “About an hour.”
“Make it 45?”
“50.” You gave it as an offer. “I still want to find out what they thought about Chapter twenty two.”
Almost out of arm's reach, Logan pulled you back. “Hey.”
“What?” You asked, allowing yourself to fall back into him. 
Looking at you, Logan smiled before brushing the hair from your face and leaving you with a kiss that left you a little stunned and dizzy in the best way imaginable. 
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Wait.” Logan said once more, before pulling you back. You laughed a little. 
“If we spend any more time in here, Mrs Keller is going to think we’re about to defile her kitchen.”
“We almost did,” Logan smirked watching your face heat before he started fixing your hair and your top. 
And you did the same with him. 
Finally walking back into the living room with the snacks, you and Logan sat back down together, your legs draped over his lap all the while your fingers subtly played with the ends of his hair, allowing your nails to run up and down the back of his neck every once in a while that had him shifting in his seat. 
You were out of there within forty minutes. 
But not before Mrs Keller gave Logan his own pair of cosy socks. 
“Yellow and blue,” she told him. “For some reason, they speak to me. They’re yours. You’re an honorary member. Feel free to drop in any session. We’d love to hear more about you two.”
Both yourself and Logan smiled before walking back to the car where he opened up the door for you before walking around and getting into the driver's seat. 
It took all of a month before everyone found out you and Logan had finally come together. Rogue and Hank seemed the most relieved that something had finally snapped between you two.
You both spent most mornings and nights tangled in each other’s arms, finally free to admit the truth to each other. 
You had loved Logan for a long time. And he had loved you just as long. 
Neither of you planned on stopping that any time soon. 
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twigstarpikachutroll22 · 7 months ago
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Kids Sitcom Like the classic sitcom writer you're a tried and true staple. You prefer short-term content and you're pretty family and friend oriented in your stories. There may be some light fluffy romance thrown in there but you're not getting steamier than an interrupted makeout or two. It’s all very kid-friendly here but that doesn't mean you stray away from important topics like the importance of community and the importance in being human. There'd probably be lots of cheesy lines about the power of friendship but put in a way that doesn't make everyone in a 5 mile radius cringe. Your TV shows would raise generations in a Disney or Nickelodeon way but not in a Cartoon Network way. Think Jessie, Bluey, or The Thundermans.
do ppl still do uquizzes? oh well i've made another one
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aphel1on · 9 months ago
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the longer i look at this panel the more deranged i feel about it. this is environmental storytelling at its finest.
the eodio stand-in doll in particular makes me crazy. where did it come from? did thistle just pop into the village like "hey ungrateful wretches, one of you needs to make me a life-sized mannequin, For Reasons". did he make it himself? seems quite unlikely, yet the possibility haunts me. i mean, i guess there could've been one just lying around the dungeon somewhere. it's the act of replacement itself that really gets to me. (edit: it's been pointed out to me that the eodio doll also could have been left behind as part of delgal's escape plan. slightly different kind of madness but tbh, just as funny-sad to me if that happened and thistle went Ok, Guess That's Eodio Now.)
both the wives are there too. we know very little about them, which makes me tend to assume thistle wasn't all that close to them, but they're still included. when did they end up here? did he kick their souls out of their bodies at some point, or were they among those who left their bodies voluntarily to try and escape? when did yaad become an effective orphan, delgal an effective widower? women in the margins of the narrative, tell me your stories!
and the fact that they're surrounded with the living paintings, which thistle habitually wanders through to relive the past. this truly is his inner sanctum, his place of utmost comfort... and it may as well be a tomb.
that panel is so creepy when you first see it. just a sense of "ohh jeez, there's a lot to unpack there".
and actually, yeah, it remains creepy from pretty much any angle, but the more you think about it the more it's also tragic.
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this is where many of thistle's happiest moments took place. everything he had in that picture is now gone. first he lost their warm regard, then one-by-one their bodies became hollow shells. before the end, none of the people here needed or enjoyed food anymore. the dinner table, as a center of both family life and nutrition, became obsolete.
a line from someone else's excellent post about thistle has stuck in my head ever since i read it: "to eat is to live, but to eat together is to be loved". to me, this is the sentiment and symbolism at the core of everything that happens in dungeon meshi.
it makes this bit all the sadder and more disturbing.
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there's several things to note here:
thistle has gone from seated and eating with them as part of the family, to a lonely and ominous figure hovering over delgal's shoulder
eodio is conspicuously absent from view, and his body would have been a husk by now, but yaad says parents, which forces me to assume that they are sitting at the table with eodio's soulless body, hidden under yaad's speech bubble
they're not actually eating anything.
those plates are empty. you could assume that they've already finished eating, maybe, but yaad refers to it as sitting around the dinner table. in fact, he compares it to what he's currently doing; sitting at the dinner table watching the touden party eat, not eating anything himself.
it paints a pretty grim picture. for some time even after the fantasy had fallen apart, even after there was no need or desire to eat, they kept gathering around the dinner table. at that point, i'd guess only so as not to provoke thistle's wrath.
but even that last happened a long, long time ago.
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this is a callback to what senshi said in the golden kingdom: the reason the people keep maintaining their fields and silverware and so forth is that they need to do so in order to stay sane.
paradoxically, the dinner table is the most striking evidence of thistle's insanity, and at the same time, it's the only anchor to sanity he has left.
he kept enforcing the ritual of dinner together long after it lost significance. when even that was impossible- because almost everyone's souls were gone- he kept their bodies at the table anyway. it's fine. it's fine! he's protected them, physically, just like he set out to. they're all still breathing. at a glance it looks like they could wake up and resume dinner at any moment. like this, it's easy to pretend.
isn't that what being a dungeon lord is, at the core of it? rejecting reality, staying in the prison of one's impossible desires. it's just one long game of pretend.
thistle did all this to protect his loved ones. no matter how obsessive and twisted he became in pursuit of that over the years, his core motivation never changed. this is all he has left of that dream: his loved ones' bodies gathered around the locus of their happiest memories together. like this, he can tell himself he's succeeded.
when eodio's body vanished with delgal's soul in it- when he couldn't even have that anymore... well.
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i want to reach through the screen and shake him. no, they're not, thistle. THISTLE, NO, THEY'RE NOT! the doll of eodio is the closest thing to him in this panel, underlining the point. when that final illusion was shattered, he became completely unable to cope with reality.
therefore casually forgetting the creepy eodio doll isn't real.
thistle isn't stupid. eodio's body vanished at the same time as delgal's soul. shortly after, more adventurers came pouring in than ever before. deep down, he knows what happened. if he didn't, being confronted with the truth by mithrun wouldn't have made him panic so hard he summoned chimera falin to the first floor.
yet still...
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he absolutely can't admit that to himself. he is clinging to the last scraps of the illusion with everything he has.
this is a dungeon lord at the end of desire. this is a lotus-eater machine left running long after its conclusion. this is mithrun lying listlessly in his bed, his replica lover having given up any pretense of being human. the illusion is all that's left. (an illusion is all it ever was.) thistle and the citizens of the golden kingdom- they're ghosts just as much as the ones who wander the dungeon floors. and if it weren't for thistle sealing the lion away, he would've been eaten by it long ago.
all of this encapsulated by that single panel of the dinner table.
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zzencat · 9 months ago
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Final Spouse’s Energy If You Met Them Now (+ how they would be like dating you) - Current ⏳
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Left to right. Choose the photo that you can’t get your eyes off of.
Where are they now? How are they doing? How would things be like if they were in my life now? May include some SUGGESTIVE comments, but is still very much SFW. I may have gotten carried away with this.
Note: This is your future spouse’s CURRENT energy, which may be prone to change within the next couple of years (ex: more maturity, better developed skills/assets, etc.) But if you were to meet your future spouse now, this is how their energy would look like.
DO BEFORE PICKING: Clear your mind. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill up your chest to the fullest, feel the air brush against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out.
———————
Pile 1. “Hey. Hi, I guess?”
• very chill atm, very content with life. Goes with what life delivers to them (that’s pretty cute ngl)
• chill buuuut can be too chill to a fault. Not nonchalant but rather an innocent, “oh I didn’t know you were bothered by that *scratches head awkwardly* — think: Fred liu type of energy
• handles conflict calmly (they might be freaking out inside tho)
• likable and friendly person. Gets along with others well, tho they don’t seem too close with. They have only a handful of close friends, and it’s slightly difficult them to see people outside of that circle as close — selective with who they consider friends. If you got in a conflict with this person’s friends, it would def hurt your person a lot. Ofc they would want to hear both sides out with an unbiased view. (they won’t side with you just bc you’re dating btw, but they’ll let you know as gently as possible)
• doesn’t really have the capacity to yell at people. They’re pretty reserved or have solid emotional control
• definitely could be a loner. LOVES late night walks in the breeze, just the two of you, holding hands or talking or doing wtv- they really don’t care what it is bc it’s with you. I keep seeing this play out in my head tho, where a person with a grey hoodie, hood-on, hands in pockets, walks by your place at night and pretends they dropped something or makes some sort of excuse to see you even for a few minutes. ^^This is when they like the person tho- not actually dating (yet). They will take the chance to either invite you to walk with them (with or without excuse) or hope that you invite yourself lmfao 😂. OR they’ll lean on your doorframe and ask how you are, have a little chat, and every time you think of an answer or your eyes drift away while thinking, they’ll take the chance to check you out (not body, but facial features.) No thoughts in their mind, just how your face just…makes sense(?) to them? 😂😂 Pile 1, like, their eyes will trace the lines, curves, and dips of your face. If you have horrendous eye bags or dark circles, they’ll think it compliments your face somehow. Like you just “make sense” is what I’m hearing. The vibe I’m feeling is that they’re in stage 0 of this potential relationship—like they’re trying to figure out if they just like being around you or if they’ve actually grown romantic feelings for you. In this moment, they’re possibly at that point of figuring out that they DO have feelings for you and this little moment confirms it (altho they’ll push it back until they get home.) >>> (***little note here: they won’t mast*rbate thinking abt you yet and prob for a few weeks to months, bc this is still too early on for them, esp when they’ve just started to like you. It’s more of a respect thing for them- and ESPECIALLY if they haven’t gotten any signs that you like them back. After a couple of months (still not dating you), you could pop into a few of their fantasies tho, but only for a very brief flash. But again, the restriction is there IF yall aren’t tgt yet.)
• can be naive, and probably lets people walk over them too much/has too many open windows for others to take advantage of them. They have to learn to set boundaries properly and stand up for themselves. They will defend the people they love tho. They just let it go when it comes to themselves
• good natured, clean, and has good hygiene. You won’t see pube hairs (or hair in general) in their shower drain. They don’t mind cleaning it either- could honestly clean the house w no problem. It’s therapeutic for em
• pretty responsible person. Won’t argue if you tell them to clean smth or do the dishes. They’ll just do it
• amazing listener, willing to compromise/give you time. Will apologize even if they’re not in the wrong
• they don’t care abt your financial status as long as you’re responsible with money/show maturity over it
• perceptive of other’s emotions to an extent, and especially when dating you, they will pay attention to yours and your reaction to different things. If you look like you’re goin thru smth, they’ll ask right away. The concern on their face is unmistakable
• dresses up helllla nice for a date. Sometimes, subtly sexy and not even on purpose. BUT, there’ll be times where they’ll be in the mirror like “hm, looks kinda see-thru and kinda sexy…I’ll wear it since I know [y/n] will like it.” But they don’t expect you to jump them that night or anything. May hint at it and tease you thru out date night. (The “innocent” gaslighting might be goin crazy tho)
• forgives easily but they’d rather take the hurt than be mean to you
• extremely loyal. Absolutely no interest in anyone else aside from their partner. I don’t think they have the energy for anyone more than you either hahaha
• turns down their friends to hang out with you
• has a lot to say/wants to be heard but sometimes gets self conscious of speaking (as if they’ve said too much) even tho they’ve said the least in the room
• tall or there’s a height difference between you two
Points of Interest: Fred liu’s energy is soooo apparent- he’s not going away lmfao HELP, possible MBTIs: infj, enfj, awkward silence, bad jokes when trying to go off of your joke (like realllly bad- they should stick to the simple ones like ikea puns), nerdy, very put together but allows moments of mistakes, mentally stable, a bit boring, will walk your dog with no extra charge, gets your coffee every morning (if you drink it), remembers the little details, might be a bit vanilla in bed, arms around your waist, cares abt the romantic and friendship aspects more than the sexual relief, smiles more when you’re around, observant as HELL, remembers to pick up your meds, remembers important dates and times, very considerate and kind, simple watch, humble, “how about we make that one thing you like?”, homebody, doesn’t overdress (sometimes underdresses tho), very gentle and good hearted, learns your language to bond with you more, a total romantic and daydreamer, bro gets talkative in their mindddd (the scenario above prob came from them but shhh)
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Pile 2. “I like the way you laugh. Eheheheh.” - Justin Bieber Interview
• a whole ass clown. Nah I mean “make you laugh until you die” kind of clown. Won’t stop even if you’re dying and gasping for air. LOVES to hear you laugh. They somehow have an intensive arsenal of jokes and will adjust depending on people’s humor- and they’re very good at this
• extroverted and TALKATIVE. Will go to Yapville and come back. Will share a lot with you and expects your feedback. Doesn’t matter if you’re an introvert or extrovert, they wanna hear your thoughts and opinions
• also they may have good leadership skills and are witty. The only issue with this is that they might be too agreeable sometimes- they want what’s ultimately best for everyone involved. The agreeableness thing is a 50/50 thing tho and applies to only some people in this pile, while the others’ future spouses will make better decisions and more sound judgments depending on the situation and what kind of person they are.
• they also don’t like to correct people’s wrongs, but rather show people how to do something. Some fs in this pile tho, can’t call people (you included) out on bs or mistakes. This may be an issue (since they might value harmony so much). This isn’t the best trait to have if you’re thinking abt kids in the future
• also if you have a dumb ass idea, they’ll hype it up and won’t think it’s dumb at all. They’ll be very supportive. Won’t ever make you feel crazy, unless you crack a joke more unhinged than they ever have/or you ever have. Maybe you’re not the type to until you meet them
• I will say, I don’t think they’re that much taller than you
• they’re so unserious sometimes that you can’t believe they’re as responsible as they are.
• somehow always knows the best places to go for a date or if you guys have extra time
• also don’t be surprised if it’s your birthday and they tell the restaurant staff to bring out the whole cake and candles, even mariachi band- be prepared that shit’s kinda crazy 😂 If you don’t like attention in general, I can’t save you in this relationship lmfaoooo
• they’re also pretty optimistic and prepared for emergencies. The type to track your period if you have em lmfao- *they get the notif on their phone* “oh you’re starting your period next week. Sweet.” “How’d you know that?” You ask, and they’ll say casually “Cuz I got the app.” *flashes you their screen w/ app open* and will browse it some more.
• these people are kinda crazy bc if they’re a parent in the future, they’ll bring a whole colossal ass backpack to an amusement park while carrying your kid. They don’t even care if it makes them look weird
• they probably have a weird feature(s) on their face or body that you love. You think it’s charming on them and while society might consider it weird or not conventionally attractive, they’ve figured out how to make it work
• doesn’t really struggle with jealousy. If anything, their form of jealousy is making you laugh even harder or doing something ridiculous to get your attention back on them and off the other person
• ^ they really do like your attention. They also love when you share things you’ve learned with them or you get them involved/inform them in on something you’ve been working on, reading, studying, watching, whatever it is, they’ll be interested. They’ll watch that dumb reality tv show you’re watching. You could even catch them up with some gossip/drama and they’d be invested af
• tbh im not feeling that they’ll ever be bored with you, regardless if you can keep up with their energy or not, because they’ll make you keep up 😭
• one sad bit I have to mention is that they probably have gone through something in the past where they weren’t on guard so they lost the person/opportunity. [I’ll keep this vague. The person doesn’t want me to dwell on it too much. They don’t want you to be fixed on negative things.] This event has stuck with them ever since and they feel that they can’t afford to make that mistake again. If you acknowledge their efforts in a serious conversation or just a random totally unrelated moment, they’ll very much appreciate that. More than you know.
Points of Interest: Getting a whole enfj vibe in here (healthy AND unhealthy enfjs), possibly enfp, entp, esfj, estp, esfp, surprise birthday parties, *dramatic gasping*, maybe likes drinking tea or making tea (esp one that’s pale-yellow colored- idk the name) and drinking it at night(???) speaking of which, night owl, flexible, will make time for you, “it’s okay! I got it!”, confident, on top of things, “sleep is for the weak” says while eye twitches, switch/versatile in bed—does not mind trying new things (they don’t even care how good or bad you are in bed. If they wanna spice it up, they will take the reigns if you don’t, with no problem), will try their best at anything and everything, the responsible class clown, loves board games, masculine and feminine energy is balanced well, probably a masochist bc they like to stress themselves out with all sorts of duties and responsibilities, very good at adapting, open to new cultures/living in countries completely different from them- weirdly, I’m seeing an Australian guy exploring the wild (…maybe that sort of thing excites them), “if you move, I move. No exceptions”, best parent award, “positions” by Ariana grande
———————-
Pile 3. “Hm.”
• in a bit of a stump. Probably has a part time job or multiple to support themselves on their own, but it’s better than being in their last situation.
• introvert. MAJOR introvert.
• minimalist
• straightforward, doesn’t beat around the bush
• not getting the vibe that they’re dating atm — single energy, but not really bothered by it
• would have a pet (eh, maybe) if they could afford to, since they neither have the time nor resources
• they would prob turn you down the first time you ask them out OR they ask you out but in a timid/unconventional/at a later period. I don’t think they have too much dating experience either (and I thought Pile 1 was a loner)
• tsundere type of energy
• the type to say they don’t want kids but when y’all get together, they start thinking abt it a lot, and may hint at it
• good at saving up money, bc they don’t really spend on much. but will work hard to buy you something expensive if they don’t think their efforts for you are enough OR if they don’t think they’re enough for you in general
• doesn’t care what other people think. Could care less if you don’t look your best on some days, have some break outs here and there or a lip filler gone horrendously wrong — if they love you, they LOVE you fr (…should prob sue that doc tho...)
• (expanding on the last point) generally, they don’t care what others think. HOWEVER !!! when you guys start dating, one or both of you (but especially on their side) will struggle with self-esteem issues. Be careful with this, because they will fall for you DEEPLY and literally can’t get out of it —> you’ve shown that you love them unconditionally, regardless of anything, and will be there for them no matter what. Pile 3, you’re pretty soft energy- I get burrito blanket/animal onesie type feels. Back to my point, if you’re not reassuring enough or emotionally available for this person when they open up, it could turn into a toxic relationship where you fall out of love first OR you get trapped in the cycle and now both of yall are depressed af.
• they don’t fall for people easily, like at all, so the obsession will be amplified by a million fold if they ever lose you. The idea of that crushes them and could take a huge mental health toll. It seems they could have leftover resentment from childhood (be it school, family, friends…). If they open up to you, that’s an honor. (At this point, they probably even trust you with their life, don’t tell anyone the info)
• In the worst case possible, you could get someone like this but feel an uneasy weird feeling around them. I’d advise you to keep you distance cuz that ain’t yo person. Obsession can get really bad with this group’s fs. Like real down bad bad. Like put a gps on your car bad. If you meet a person this creepy, don’t stick around in their life and definitely don’t have them stick around in yours. Chances are, this is a karmic person and they’ve come into your life as a reflection of your own insecurities or obsessive tendencies.
• VERY SMART. Can be calculative to protect themselves and those they love
• on the bright side, a well developed pile 3 future spouse enjoys solitude and has managed trauma very well. Tho they might seem socially inept, they’re prob just blunt and honest. They will tell you like it is. Will literally do anything for you, uncharacteristic, even if they look like an idiot on the street
• prefers more intimate settings alone or with you. With another friend? ehh…they prob won’t go
• will only go out if you go out, bc it’s you
• either secretly freaky in the sheets or inexperienced
• jealous easily and is very possessive. They don’t have too many people around them they deem trustworthy so this reaction is to be expected
• this person handles aggressive or violent behavior well. It doesn’t freak them out. (Also right now at 3:01 pm where I’m at, their energy is very hesitant to give out the reason why so perhaps when you meet them and gain their trust, they will tell you.) {P.s I’m asking them very specific and personal questions on the side rn and the silence speaks volumes. I won’t pry any further but they ask that you have some empathy, since they’re not sure how you’d see them.}
• another p.s.: 3:09 pm I think I’ve exposed too much here. There was a strong resistance at the end since it’s so vulnerable and close to their core that it freaks them out to be outed for strangers to see and read about. I won’t say anymore about their past. I’ve also become more careful of my wording - but I will say this for their sake. There is a strong desire to change in this person tho so being someone who brings positive influence into their lives. Someone who can prove that there are still good people in the world.
Points of Interest: istp, intp, entj, intj, istj, either good memory or doesn’t care to rmr (no in between. It varies from person to person, their values and where the info is coming from), notices every little detail, doesn’t care about your flaws, desensitized if you have breakdowns, unexpectedly a good comfort person. Again, a lot of resistance and hesitation, so I won’t say any more abt them. Ooh, ominous. Also, do you struggle with gut issues? Or smth diet related? Could be a whack diet. Okay, I had to go back and delete an important piece of info I put in initially but there’s a lot of disapproval over it. I will throw a small hint out since they’re allowing me to; it’s related to growing up. They don’t want me to be specific abt the period of when but that’s what you get just as a preface. I can tell they want to tell someone about it though. There’s just no one they trust. Also, rmr I said they don’t care abt what others think? Apparently, they care strongly abt what YOU think. It almost feels regretful? Embarrassing? To admit/write this. Thanks pile 3. That’s all you’re getting out of me today.
——————-
*Teddy Note: Teddy here!! I hope your day is going smoothly wherever you’re at! We’re back again with another reading and this time, it was a bit heavier to take in. I mean, this is future spouse we’re talking about so there’s definitely going to be a handful. I have to mention briefly, this is the first time I’ve ever felt a clear shiver against my body when doing a reading. Like a full on force that left me blinking like “wtf just happened…” Especially for a certain pile, who doesn’t want me putting them in the light too much. I saw someone with so much guilt on their face, but they looked so…small? Innocent? Youthful? As if they hadn’t done anything wrong in their life, it’s just that people looked at them…not wrong, but differently? It’s uncomfortable to find the word even after finishing the reading but “differently” undermines their experience and what they’ve been through. But they also don’t want to use a more negative word to describe it either so I’ll leave it there. Thank you for reading!! Remember, take what resonates, leave what doesn’t. I would appreciate any constructive feedback and if you guys reblogged with what pile you chose. It helps a practicing reader like me learn to be more accurate and aligned! Until the next reading, Teddy outttt ����😎
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linkcharacter · 3 months ago
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Really like the recent analysis. I know I speak of curly in a more defensive way than most but I generally try to get the point you made across at the end of the day with my analyses on him and his behaviors.
People love to lock analyses around Curly solely based on what he could’ve done as a physical action and have this avoidance to acknowledging the realistic barriers at play when it comes to those solutions. It’s. The game tries to treat the pre-crash section as if they are grounded in social and organizational realities. So the what if he did this questions about the situation always fall short when the real answer is he either couldn’t or it wasn’t an actual viable option. But then when they talk about what he actually did do it’s surrounded by such bad faith interpretations that his actions were completely intentional or still not affected by outside sources. He’s a very much “road to hell is paved with good intentions” character. He cared too much and that’s a big part of his problem.
There’s such a “perfect victim or nothing” mindset in the fandom where people can’t admit that there are no such things as perfect victims but that also shouldn’t mean that even if there were it would absolve them of the mistakes they made. People want to moralize every action of every character that they don’t realize that some actions are done without any specific morale factor. People just do things, like you said. People assumed failed intentions immediately flip the thought process behind them “he meant to do good but bad happened, he must be bad” and that just is not how people work. It’s how perceptions work but only of the observer.
It’s such a sensitive topic because, yes, you are supposed to be frustrated, even mad, at what Curly didn’t do, but you have to acknowledge the fact these were good intentioned acts even if that good intent did jack squat in the end. That his responses are human and it’s supposed to be uncomfortable and hurt that they were realistic faults of his.
He enabled his friend and it ended bad for everyone including him. No one really tries to argue this fact but everyone seems to think it has to be tied to the morale dilemma and not certain human natures and social factors.
This is all to ask, why do you personally lean towards thinking Curly wouldn’t turn Jimmy in? Are you speaking in the short term of realizing how bad he got or long-term/overall? I feel like he could but it would not be easy and no matter the necessity he’d always have this guilt at feeling bad for doing it.
Ah yes Curly the most imperfect human man character.
Yep yep yep absolutely, people love to assign morality onto characters and call them good or bad and diminishing the depth and nuance of Mouthwashing, filling discussions with bad-faith interpretations or speculating on inconcrete understandings of the incomplete, intentionally vague, context. I adore Mouthwashing to no end for having this oppressive suffocating and constant atmosphere surrounding everything in the game. Really shows off that the environment festers, no one well-meaning guy could create a happy ending with individual actions alone because it's all systematic.
To elaborate from your question tho, at the point Curly was in (if Anya wasn't pregnant scenario), definitely no don't think so (would depend on Anya a too on whether or not she would go to the authorities outside). Curly knew Jimmy was a danger, and I do believe that subconsciously Anya's report to him on Jimmy gnaws at him, but not vividly enough. I want to point out a moment where Anya tells him about the pregnancy, he begins asking "Who would you-", then he's nudged by Anya that she told him and he should know who it is, and he does, instantly saying he's known him a long time and will talk to him. That moment of, for a second not connecting that Jimmy is the assaulter responsible just makes me drag my palm across my face for how much of a man (derogatory) Curly acted like for one dialogue line. Like he just 'forgot' for a brief moment that Jimmy harassed Anya prior? Granted, he instantly believes and takes Anya seriously, immediately dropping the search for the gun he was on in that scene, realizing the severity of the situation and of Jimmy. We also don't know what Anya has told him specifically, how long ago it happened, etc. but the 'implications' of the scene make me believe Jimmy's known sexual harassment on the ship slipped Curly's mind due to him being more invested in "the bigger picture" of Jimmy, not latching onto a harmful and a very serious fucking trivia fact about Jimmy because of his perception of who his friend is as a whole (and with his foggy sleep-deprived mind at the moment), 'losing a needle in a haystack' with how much unknown history Curly and Jimmy shared, so to say.
Maaaybe in some other circumstances, like if Jimmy didn't crash the ship or smth long term I could see him doing it, it would take a lot effort like you said, no matter the necessity. We will never know. If we're going into speculation and imaginary scenarios though, if Anya HERSELF were to try and get justice, Curly would be backing her up undoubtedly (still not disconnecting himself from Jimmy though and feeling guilt on his behalf). But that's all suppositions from my reading of the characters.
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spatialwave · 2 months ago
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high, high, i'm so high.
➸ pairing: thanos/choi su-bong x fem!reader ➸ ask: "aaaaa since you're taking requests then could you please write a thanos x reader including a reader who's just as flashy as him in terms of looks? (i mean something like dyed hair or piercings but anything else can go too!!) thank you!!" ➸ word count: 2k words ➸ tags: semi-nsfw, drug use, kissing, mostly dialogue, thanos wants reader so bad, lol. ➸ notes: tysm for asking! will likely expand this into another nsfw chapter, hehe. title from "High High" by GD&TOP.
part 2 ->
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The games were bullshit. You weren’t sure why you ever made that call to join. The feeling of dried blood on your face was one that you could happily go without feeling ever again. Still, you voted to stay because the money poured into that hanging glass pig was far too enticing to ignore. To take home 45.6 billion won would be a dream—you could move like you always wanted. Pay off your and your mother’s debts, travel the world, and never look back at your old life.
Though you weren’t the only person with the same dreams, about half of the current players were just as hungry for the money as you. It would be tough, but you knew were certain you could make it—the first game was child’s play.
You sat on the edge of your bunk, the lowest in the row, and you toyed at your tongue piercing with your teeth and staring amongst the masses. You were attempting to ignore the gaze of the Choi Su-bong, known as the self-proclaimed Thanos, and it was growing more difficult.
He’d already tried hitting on you during the first game, blowing you a kiss that you turned your head from, and he didn’t seem like he was going to stop fighting for your attention. You were an eyesore to most, but your looks seemed to intrigue him more than you’d liked.
A wild mess of bright red hair, tattoos littering your skin and a tongue piercing—a disappointment to your grandparents, but you were a tattoo artist. You hardly stood out back home, but here? It was hard to blend in.
You remembered the looks from others when the games started, most of the players keeping their distance. Unlike the other wild card in the game, you didn’t share the same charisma or extroversion, meaning finding a group to blend in with was difficult. You weren’t sure if that was a good or bad thing, figuring that at some point down the line, having friends would only make the games difficult—only one could win, right?
And you were more than certain that even if everyone who voted ‘no’ died, the games would continue, and no one would vote to go home. Everyone was greedy.
“Senorita,” a voice cooed to your left, and you flickered your gaze over to the one person who’d heard speaking english during the games. Even with a quick glance, you could see the way his pupils were blown out.
“Not interested,” you quipped, though your voice carried a hint of amusement. 
Thanos leaned against your bunk as the other players began gathering before the next vote began, his hand wrapping around the post. Wide eyes watched you, jaw clenching out of necessity as he looked you up and down. 
“Don’t you know who I am?” He murmured confidently, a charming smile gracing his lips, and you hated that it actually made you smirk. A bit of attention wasn’t so bad.
“Mm,” you hummed, tapping a finger to your chin as you pretended to think, “Some rapper who got scammed by that guy over there, right?” Your finger then pointed to Player 333, sitting a few bunks down as everyone began to grow impatient for the vote.
He scolded you with a smack of his lips, scrunching his nose as he flickered his gaze to Myung-gi, half of his face bruised. Blown-out eyes settled back at you, not losing that look of persistence. They focused on your hair, then down to your hands, which were covered in tattoos that poked out from your sleeves.
“He deserved it,” he said, sitting down on the edge of your bunk and invading your space, “Join my team.” He spoke with a thick accent over the English words.
Your head tilted to the side, your eyes narrowing slightly as you looked him up and down. His knees pressed into your thigh, the slight pressure building heat in your stomach that you’d been avoiding well for the past few days. You looked to your left, eyes landing on Player 124, who had been watching you too not-so-secretly, along with another boy who looked out of place next to him.
“Only if you give me some of this,” you said, reaching forward and curling a finger into the necklace that you tugged out from the confines of his sweater. Your fingers brushed against his skin, sending a shiver up his spine. He knew then he wasn’t going to stop now. You’ll share with him, but not the pretty girl?”
Thanos grabbed your wrist, smirking as he pulled your hand away, “Pretty girls shouldn’t do things like that. You won’t be able to handle it.”
“Oh, come on.” You leaned closer, offering him a toothy grin, “I’ve done worse. Don’t I look the type?”
Interest glimmered in his eyes, but the idea of sharing with too many people concerned him. He needed enough to get him to the end; he could always cut off Nam-su. 
“Troublesome,” he muttered, pursing his lips. It was a quick exchange; the colourful pills hidden in the cross were quickly tucked away after he kept one hidden in his hands, “Open.”
You widened your eyes for a moment, locking his gaze as he withheld the pill from you until you obeyed. Rolling your eyes, you moved with him as he turned away from the rest of the players, making sure you were facing toward the wall as you opened your mouth—sticking your tongue out.
Su-bong wore a small smile when you revealed your piercing, excitement burning through him as he lifted the blue tablet and pressed it to your tongue. You curled your tongue back into your mouth, holding the drug beneath your tongue as you felt it begin to dissolve. Just as you were about to thank him, he lifted a hand to rest on your chin.
“Enjoy,” he said in english, his thumb grazing along your bottom lip and slightly tugging it down until it snapped back into place, a big smile forming on his lips, “Vote circle. Then you can team up with us so we win until we’re rich.”
The drug left a sweet taste under your tongue, and its effects were already easing the shakiness you’d felt during the games. A treat that you needed to escape the grim reality—the idea of being high as hell during the games seemed better than not. Even if you died, at least you’d be having fun.
“Okay,” you spoke, the english word rolling off your tongue easily. 
There was an electrified moment between you two, and you knew he was going to become a problem, but not in the way you had expected. You certainly didn’t have time for feelings—not here.
When the lights went out a few hours later, the high left you restless but euphoric. You tossed and turned in the bed, your sweater removed from your body as the drugs left you warm, a leg sticking out from the blanket that barely covered you. Just as sleep felt like it might approach you, there was movement in the corner of your eye, and you snapped your gaze to the side. 
“What are you–” you tried to speak, but Su-bong’s hand clasped over your mouth.
“Quiet,” he whispered, glancing around and listening to the sounds of others around you snoring and making sure no one had heard or peaked towards you.
It was dark enough that the two of you being seen would be unlikely, but it wouldn’t be ideal to alert anyone—especially not when he’d approached you with the intent to slip under the covers with you.
He removed his hands from your lips, and you could barely see the smile on his lips as he moved onto your bed and slid onto the mattress beside you. So easily, he rested his head on your pillow, noses practically brushing together.
“How are you feeling?” He asked, voice hushed. If the lights were bright, he might’ve been able to see your dilated pupils. However, he could feel the way you were fidgeting, and that was enough to show that the drugs were working well for you.
“Can’t sleep,” you murmured, “too restless.”
“I told you that you couldn’t handle it.” He grinned, his warm breath tickling your face.
“So condescending,” you whined, blinking as you watched him. “Why are you here? Trying to get in my pants now that I’m high?”
Su-bong’s eyes softened, “I couldn’t get you off my mind, so I wanted to say hi.” He admitted cheekily, and you rolled your eyes, but the butterflies in your stomach went wild. 
You chuckled, smiling, “You like me that much, huh? Who knew Thanos had a big heart? How cute.” You teased, reaching up and patting his cheek with your hand, letting it rest for a few moments with your thumb brushing his skin. “When we get out of here, take me for some drinks, and we can have a good night together. Okay?”
He hummed deep in his throat, your touch accentuated by the drugs in his system, “We can’t have a good night now?” He murmured, leaning closer until his lips brushed with yours—fuck. Fingers lifted up into your wild hair that rivalled his, then down your ears where they ran over the abundance of piercings, a mix of studs and hoops that decorated each one.
“Why do you think I came over?” Su-bong breathed, the hand that had been fiddling with your piercings now dropping to your bare arm. His eyes followed, having adjusted to the dark and able to see the patterns of the tattoos on your body.
“I thought you couldn’t get me off your mind and wanted to say hi,” you whispered, eyes fluttering at the gentle touches of his hand. The drugs in your system elevated every touch, sending electric shocks of pleasure through your body. You hated it, how you couldn’t be loud right now—how Thanos managed to win you over.
“A man can’t want more than one thing?” He murmured, painted nails raking along your skin.
As much as you wanted to indulge in him, to pull him over top of you and kiss him until your lips were bruised, you knew it was too risky.
“Get me out of here, and I’ll think about giving you more.” You smiled, closing the distance and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. You indulged further for just a brief moment, your tongue pushing past his lips as the ball of your piercing clicked against his teeth—then your hand pressed to his chest, and you pushed him away. He toppled back at the sudden shove, slipping off of the mattress and landing on metal stairs next to the bunk. He landed on it with a loud thud, and a groan reverberated from his chest, loud enough that it startled a few of the nearby players, all sitting up in their beds and looking at the source of the noise.
You had to put a hand over your mouth, snickering into it as you watched Thanos sit up, glaring at you as his sore body ached. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, his eyes screaming that he wasn’t done with you yet. 
“Go back to sleep. Nosy fucks.” Thanos hissed under his breath at the onlookers, rising to his feet and begrudgingly returning to his bunk a couple rows away from you in his frazzled state. You were sitting up now, watching as his figure blended into the darkness, a small smile on your lips as your heart slammed against your chest.
As Su-bong laid in his bunk, ignoring the whispers coming from Nam-gyu, asking about his luck with you, he pressed a finger to his lips. Your kiss left a lingering vibration, his lips tingling as he imagined what could’ve been—and what would come to be.
You were right; he wasn’t close to being done with you. Not when you gave him a taste.
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lost-romantique · 3 months ago
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Blitzø's Realization & Feelings
I like how Blitz is initially confused the moment Stolas arrives on scene and breaks into song...
He understands that Stolas just saved him from getting his head chopped off, but he still doesn't understand what he's doing at the trial.
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After all, in Blitzø’s mind Stolas is over him, and moved on the moment he saw Stolas having the time of his life dancing with BTB.
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In Blitzø’s memory reel Stolas has his top eyes open, and I think to Blitzø he reads it as Stolas seeing and relishing in that kiss, in that moment. Blitzø doesn't even consider the fact that it was a drunken kiss.
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But the moment Stolas takes all the blame for himself, things take a turn...
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It clicks for Blitzø, and he's just in pure and utter shock as he sees just how much Stolas genuinely and truly loves him.
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It's at this moment where he says the words, "I don't want to live a life without you by my side."
Blitzø takes this time to finally let his emotions pour out like a fucking waterfall.
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Whereas compared to Ghostfuckers he just subtly acknowledges it.
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His expression drops from realization to pure panic at Stolas' actions. Blitzø doesn't want to die, but at the same time, he definitely doesn't want someone he cares about to take the fall for him.
"What are you doing!? I don't deserve this!"
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"I realized too late!" Blitzø acknowledges that he realized both Stolas’ feelings and his own feelings too late in the game.
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Blitzø in Apology Tour didn't understand his own feelings, let alone Stolas’ feelings. He tries to, but he can't.
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"Don't give your life to clean my slate."
What I love about this line is that it reads as: Don't sacrifice yourself to absolve me of my crimes. Blitzø makes it clear he doesn't want this.
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"You’re my heart."
Blitzø breaks down and says these words because to Blitzø this is what Stolas is, the key to his heart that he's kept locked up for years, and someone he wants to give his whole heart too.
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Because Blitzø closed off his heart after the fire. His love is something that he believed could hurt someone, but with Stolas, he's worth that risk.
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The moment Stolas is wrapped in chains, Blitzø moves on instinct, almost as if he's trying to get out of his own chains so he can run to Stolas.
Felt like it would be a disservice not to show the clip that destroyed me. 😀
Blitzø, the moment he's freed of his chains Blitzø says the words, "No- no!" in disbelief, shock, and desperation.
Blitzø is so desperate to stop Stolas from what he's doing, begging him to do anything to stop this from happening. And if that meant getting himself killed, he'd do it.
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Because he doesn't want a repeat of this happening. It's one thing for people to leave Blitzø, he’s used to that, but it's another to have them die, especially in front of him.
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He breaks down when he fears his worse fears have come true: that Stolas is dead and he can't do anything to stop it.
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It's why Blitzø is so shocked and surprised the moment he sees Stolas alive, because his worse fears didn't happen.
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The moment Blitzø gets the reassurance that he's is loved by Stolas he falls into that caretaking role almost instantly, since he knows Stolas is hurting right now.
He's taking steps being extra gentle, extra reassuring, extra soft, even going as far as to fluff the pillow on his couch.
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It vaguely reminds me of how Blitzø is able to sorta gage what people's needs are. In this moment, Blitzø was about to shoot Creepzo, but instead he opts to beat Creepzo with the end of his gun once he realizes Fizz is on the verge of a panic attack.
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What I love about this shot is that this is the most at peace Blitzø has ever looked in the entire show.
He's just so grateful that he's alive and that Stolas is alive.
~~~~~~
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Anyway, wanted to include this bit because I love how Sam Haft pointed out that Blitzø leaves Mastermind more self-actualized.
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Whereas for Stolas, he leaves Mastermind more humbled as he gets a taste of how truly privileged he is.
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thyfleshc0nsumed · 1 month ago
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how do you find public spaces to fuck (re:the rooftop + dyke)?
sincerely, horny lez
Good question, I will answer it in this response eventually, but first, you have to sit through me intellectually jerking myself off for a moment because I think it may provide some useful perspective.
Public sex has been part of my life for as long as I've been having physical sex at all. As an adolescent it was mostly out of necessity, but these days it's mostly out of convenience. The vast majority of the sex I've had in the last year or two has been public.
I think it's important to clarify that for me at least, public sex is not an act of exhibitionism. If there's any sort of philosophy behind it besides sheer utility, I'd say it's something like not allowing our society's mores and hangups around sex and privacy dictate the terms on how and where we (especially as gay people) engage with our sexuality.
I think there's this gut impulse many people have--including many gay people--around public sex, and I think it speaks to the reactionary view of human sexuality that is unfortunately the stock standard in these times. For many, the idea of people having sex in public gives them some sort of 'ick' that they can't seem to articulate.
Often discussions around public sex are framed like this: "if I walked in on people having sex, it would make me uncomfortable, I didn't consent to that, so people should not be having sex in public." It would be fairly reasonable to experience discomfort in this imagined scenario--in fact, I think most people probably would--and that discomfort isn't a problem. The problem is that the premise assumes a few crucial points, notably that 1. Walking in on public sex is a common occurrence and/or the desired outcome for those engaging in it 2. Discomfort is a form of harm 3. Exposure to (non-hegemonic) human sexuality is capable of causing some kind of nebulous psychic damage to the witness.
To the first point: in my decade or so of regular public sex, I can only think of one instance where I was actually walked in on. It was an alley off of a major road and probably only at around 1030p. I mention this because we absolutely would have chosen a different, more secluded location/time if we were doing anything other than fully clothed kink and maybe some kissing, because again, the goal for most is not exhibitionism; no one really wants to be walked in on, so we choose locations where it is less likely that we will be.
To the second point, I have little to say besides that it simply isn't. Discomfort is an everyday part of life and is something all people experience regularly without calls to stop every potential source of it. So what is it about this topic that makes people react this way?
This leads us to the third point: non-hegemonic modes of sexuality are treated as degenerative and caustic and therefore must be hidden (or eradicated) entirely from the public sphere. It is the classic double standard; think of things like the "Don't Say Gay" or "DADT" laws or more broadly the attempt to remove even the mention of the existence of gays from curriculum. Most of the people who fight for such measures likely don't take the same issue or action with a 48 foot billboard for the local strip club or with a heterosexual couple kissing on screen.
And while the spot that people place the line may differ greatly, this ire against public sex still draws from the same well of reaction against perceived degeneracy that the fascist draws from. If this is not self evidently a negative thing to you, I have little I can say to convince you.
Some may be thinking 'okay, even if it is not harmful or degenerate, why do public sex?' To me, it is just as strange that so many keep their sex lives confined to the home and I could posit the same question. Neither way of doing things is any more natural or unnatural than the other, one is just the societal default. If it would bring you joy, why not engage in public sex?
The world is large, and if you know where to look, there are countless spaces you can carve out and stake the pervert's claim to. Alleyways, parks, bathrooms, rooftops, and beaches are the first to come to mind for me. To answer your question directly, you find them by making them and taking them.
Time is a large factor here as well. A given spot in a park at 9p may not be suitable, but might be more so by 11p, and even more so by 1a. My experience is that the later it gets, more spots become viable with less heavy precautions.
Another factor is coverage. An open field is riskier than behind a tree. The middle of an alley is riskier than behind a dumpster. You want to limit the amount of vectors through which you could be exposing yourself. I value coverage from sight lines over seclusion.
Something else you want to think about is whether or not you are on private property. If you are, it's possible that there are security personnel sitting in a car somewhere nearby or a resident who notices you. At that point, the issue is not even the sex, it's the fact you're there at all.
Finally, you always have to be ready to dip. Be aware of your surroundings as best you can, listen for cars and people, don't get too caught up in the moment that you're blinded. You gotta be ready to pull your pants up and walk quickly away. I'd rather be safe than sorry. If something's not right, get outta there. If you can't, well, don't have your dick out at least.
Anyway, all that to say go out and have fun. Good luck and enjoy yourself. The world has room for you to fit yourself into.
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bitchlessdino · 1 year ago
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Reckless (m)
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Pairing: adult actor!mingyu x pervert afab!reader Genre: smut Word count: 4.8k tags: camboy!mingyu, established friendship, banter, brat!reader, glass toys, invasion of privacy, rough play, anal, double penetration, degradation (pervert, slut), choking, spanking, spitting, oral (giving and receiving), swallowing, hair pulling, deep throating Summary: Mingyu is a camboy and proud of it, as he should. Finally, he's getting the applause he deserves for his work and will be attending one of the biggest adult industry events to date. He just needs you to watch over while his house while he's gone. Easy enough, right? Unbeknownst to him, you happened to be a fan. A big one. One so big that you cant help but take advantage what Mingyu fans have only ever dreamed of. author note: finally the awaited winner, camboy!mingyu! still so crazy he won over multiple reverse harems on the poll. tagging my wife @wongyuseokie because it's her birthday and deserves to wake up with some NASTY mingyu smut. thank you @highvern for beta-reading to better this fic and like both of us are saying, mingyu is a fucking freakkk in this so enjoy my babies.
Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @cottoncheol @embrace-themagic @onlymingyus
You have only seen the room in passing personally, but countless times over video. You’re not even shocked by the dozens of expensive toys he’s put in those glass displays, so used to seeing them enter a human orifice one way or the other. The burly man bashfully guides you away from the scandalous room, skillfully diverting your attention to the lush foliage he's entrusted you to tend to, a gentle blush adorning his warm-toned cheeks.
How you keep the fact that you have been secretly watching your friend’s cam shows–including the charity stream of him doing push ups in a singular pair of skintight briefs–was a mystery, even to you. 
It’s not like you meant to get addicted to porn. But Mingyu, unapologetic about his line of work, practically served it up on a silver platter for you. He says he could use all the help he could get, but frankly, he couldn’t have it more easy. 
With that body, that hair, that face, that smile, there’s no doubt in your mind he’d be a fan favorite and you were right. He’s now one of the rising adult content creators in his line of work, heavily acclaimed in the cam category and recently in independent film. That’s what his trip is about, awarding him for his hard work that he never thought he’d accomplish.
It fills you with pride, yet piques your curiosity; fusing platonic and sensual feelings that blur the lines between friendship and desire for Mingyu, actualizing this full fledged crush. But you’d never let him find that out. Not unless it was against your will.
“And that’s pretty much it. Everything else is pretty self-explanatory. I’ll be back on Tuesday.”
“Tuesday, hmm?” Your eyebrows bounce in place suggestively. “Thinking of pursuing personal projects while working?”
He shrugs like a timid schoolboy, cheekbones pigmented and perky like bright ripe cherries. “No promises—Now, repeat back to me everything I’ve told you to do.”
You playfully roll your eyes, offended he had the gall to doubt you. “Water each green buddy once a day; keep crumbs off tables, counters, furniture, etc; put everything back where it should be; and,” you start to grin, “no sex parties, even though this is the perfect place for it.”
“Okay, that last one was obviously a joke but very much serious. Although tempting, under any circumstances, do not fuck anyone in this house while I’m gone.”
“So circumstances would be different if you were home?”
Getting a shade brighter in red, he points a demanding finger at you like a stern mother, “I mean it.”
“Yes, mom,” sarcasm coating your tongue.
“Good.”
Mingyu, armed with a suitcase containing all his essentials, casually waves you off. There's a playful authority in the final point of his finger, a silent reminder to behave before he disappears behind the imposing door.
You promise him you’ll do your due diligence in taking care of his home, and that would be an easy enough task, the real problem stems from the temptation of one specific room. Mingyu’s cam room.
Distinct from the usual rooms such as the bathroom, Mingyu's kitchen, and his primary bedroom, this space stands alone, akin to an office. Mingyu himself has shared its origin story: starting from the sweetest of riddances of a god-awful roommate, followed by many desperate nights to cover the remaining monthly rent, ultimately giving birth to this room that many of his fans like to call ‘Sinner’s Safehaven.’ So rightfully acclaimed.
You’re a fan of yourself, able to outline the bedroom from memory and recollect every toy from every live stream he’s ever posted. Unable to resist the temptation, your feet instinctively embark on a self-guided tour. Your eyes are bewitched by the intricacies of every weapon of pleasure, every scent of his array of miscellaneous liquids, every phallic-shaped object that stands tall and mighty like a national monument.
It’d be a lie to say you weren’t tempted to take advantage of the opportunity, maybe just to get the sick idea out of the way. Your hands manage to find a mind of their own, reaching over to unlock one of the glass displays, wrapping your hand around the object’s girth, and taking it out from its confinement for a closer view.
A stunning crystal toy that reflects off the lights of the room, looking in pristine condition as if fresh from packaging. If Mingyu is good at one thing it’s maintaining his tools, and he does not let anyone forget.
Ever since he showcased it on screen, you've desired to covet one just like it, inducing a late-night web surf to discover the outrageous out-of-reach prices for a product of such exceptional quality and aesthetic appeal. It does not look to be in the cards for you to own one, but borrowing wouldn’t be a problem. He did say everything only needed to be put back in place and what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
Following the devilish voice whispering in your ear, you slip into something more comfortable, letting the well-conditioned air blow a draft against your bare legs. You hold the toy excitedly before dipping your weight in the bed, the silk sheets and pillowy cushion embracing you at all sides.
The knowledge that the infamous crystal dildo is in your hand makes your heart pound and pussy throb. You can count all the videos of it being featured with one hand, and despite it all, you know it had to be Mingyu's favorite. 
One particular video comes to mind as you hold the tip against your inner thigh, moving it identical to the way Mingyu held it against him, realizing they are coincidentally the same length, same girth, and same tantalizing presence. You practically dreamed of having him and this toy inside of you for months after that show and now half of that dream would be possible.
Your fingers didn’t have to be inside you to know you’re wet, practically soaked through your panties the moment you laid eyes of Mingyu and his sex room. Fuck, if you aren’t so damn ashamed of the truth of your feelings, you’d never let him out of your sight. 
A long note of your moan exhales as you insert the tip between your wet folds, introducing the strangest yet arousing thing to be done to you. It’s certainly big as you expect it to be, maybe even more as you plunge it in deeper. Affirmations exit your lips in short bursts, your other hand up your shirt as they tease your nipples through your bra.
Your legs crutch in reaction to its ridged shape massaging your walls, then the cool hard surface finds that familiar hotspot, unfortunately only halfway down its length. Your cheeks flush imagining Mingyu’s face, imagining the words to come out of those lips if it were his cock.
‘Already? I haven’t even put it all in yet.’
It fuels your determination, deadset in taking all of it—all of him.
‘You can do it, can't you? You can take my cock for me?’
Somewhere, lost in the contagious air of sex and starvation, your mind runs rampant. Your hips buck into the crystal, letting it settle inside you all the way before you thrust it harder. You hiss at its size, expelling a moan once you no longer feel its shaft around your fingers and just take it, take it as if it a canine smile were on the other end.
‘So good…so good at taking all of my cock.’
“I am being good,” you mumble under your breath. “So good...”
Your whimpers go unnoticed by you, only worried of the dildo carrying on its mission. Sensation running down your legs and arms, and your hips hover over the mattress. Your back arches and you spell his name out in the only way the body fully intends you to: in longing breaths, “Mingyu…please…”
‘What? What is it?’
You groan at the image of his smile. “Let me cum please…”
‘Do you deserve it?’
“Yes, Gyu, please…” You thrust faster. “Oh my god—“
‘Yes, that’s it. That pretty pussy should cum all over my hard fucking cock.’
“Yes, yes!” Your arousal seeps all around you, a visible stain beneath your thighs and you don’t care. “God, right there! Right there—“
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Then it becomes no longer your imagination. The voice you’ve created in your mind had an echo, lingering in the depths of your filth rotted head, but the one you just heard had to be the original.
You scramble to hide under the sheets, eyes as big as saucers as the man of your fantasy stands clear in your reality at the foot of his bedroom. “M-Mingyu. The train.”
“I forgot some things. Couldn’t leave without them, so I told the driver to turn back.” He peers over your situation, intrigued by your legs folded on top of one another beneath the covers, the proof trepidation of your forehead, and your lips swollen from instinctive biting. “What do we have here?”
You laugh nervously, unprepared for the shitshow soon to arise. “I see how this looks—“
“Looks like you’ve had a bit of fun.” He huffs with his arms crossed as he approaches, the human made stain plain in sight on his bed sheets which you’ve fail to cover up. “Too much maybe. And all by yourself.”
“Well, you see—“
“And the mess you made.” His hand pushes against the mattress, leaning over to your side and drinking in your view. “All over my bed. All over my Crystal dildo.”
You avoid his gaze, wishing to disappear in a cloud of smoke right about now. “Okay. You can understand how this would bother you.”
“Oh I’m not bothered by it—not in the slightest—but…you could’ve at least waited until I came back.”
Mingyu pulls the sheets off of you and he exposes your guilt, seeing it in its raw, glistening glory. His eyes scan over you, swallowing at that scent revealed, and a fire lights up in his stomach. “Dirty little pervert can’t stop saying my name while using my toy, hmm? Don’t you know better to touch things that don’t belong to you?”
“I…I…I’m sorry,” You squeak.
“Well, I can’t just let this go now, can I?”
You shake your head, breathing through your nose. You’re scared of him hearing how fast your heart has decided to pound, how wet you’ve become well after your orgasm, and how dry your throat is after you heard him call you a pervert. 
Wordlessly, he takes the glass dildo from your fingertips, claiming what’s rightfully his, and plunging between his lips halfway down its shaft. Your eyes capture it in full color, reveling in the moan that slips past his lips. Your chest rises and falls watching him take it deeper almost effortlessly as his slack cladded knees dip into the mattress. 
“Mmh…who knew a pervert’s pussy could taste so sweet,” he mumbles, smiling into the toy. It leaves his mouth with a pop before it aims back at you. “Taste it. Taste how sweet your dirty pussy is all over my cock.”
Your stomach coils, reluctantly obliging to crack open your mouth. Mingyu hums, content with what he sees as he eases the toy towards your mouth. “Don’t be shy. Take my crystal cock, perv.”
Your lips wrap around the head, tasting the salty, faintly sweet, flavor lingering on the glass before it travels past your lips.You look back at him, almost as if waiting for his instruction, and receive a stroke on the back of your head as a response. 
“That’s it. Let it go deep down your throat. Have to make up for ruining my bed, right?”
You nod, unable to speak as you bob down, licking up what you can and collecting every inch of the toy. His eyes become a dark pit that stares back at you, dominance taking over his entire presence. He doesn’t speak, only watches and for what feels like forever, pushing the toy in and out of your mouth.
Your muffle around its girth, tears starting to brim your eyes as it hits the back of your throat, but it doesn’t falter Mingyu in the slightest.
"You're crying. Does it hurt?" Mingyu asks in a domineering tone, to which you nod. "Do you want me to stop?" he inquires, to which you shake your head.
His lips graze your ear, and you sense his charming smile whispering against your skin as he replaces the imaginary devilish voice with his very real and alluring one. “Then deep throat it like you mean it, you fucking slut.”
Your lips parted wider, a shattered moan aches out, only to have the toy stuck down your throat long enough for your tears to sting. Gasping for air, Mingyu finally shows mercy and unplug your airways. Coughing uncontrollably, salvia dribbles down your chin as you retrieve your stolen oxygen. His hand tenderly caresses at the back of your head, threading through the tangles of your hair.
“Good job,” he says in a hushed voice, picking your face up by your chin. “Now. Do you think that was an appropriate punishment?”
He tucks your hair behind your ear, lethally silent as he anticipates your response.
It takes you a moment to realize where you are, who you're with, and what this all meant for you. Mingyu’s cam persona has haunted your inner thoughts, degrading you as if you were scum, tossing your body like a rag doll, marking and bruising your skin only he would find, and you relished in every earth-shattering, mind-blowing orgasm it’s caused. You’d be a fool to say otherwise.
“N-no. It’s not enough.”
“Is that so,” He questions amused. Slowly, his hand travels from your hair to your face, tracing your jaw in a languid movement and coming across your neck to size it in his large hand. “What will be enough for you exactly?”
The pad of his fingers presses the slightest amount of pressure on the column of your neck, emerging a gasp so soft Mingyu almost doesn't register it. He grins, hot breath fanning your face as he watches your legs squirm. It comes as a surprise to you when he single-handedly pins your body against the bed frame, leveraging you against it before he comes down and faces your pussy drowning its own cum. 
“I should at least have compensation done for the damage you’ve made, don’t you think?”
He grips your neck a fraction tighter before you feel his mouth make contact with your core. Physically vibrating, you feel the sensation of his tongue flicking at your clit, and visibly melt before he explores down. “You’re so fucking wet,” he chuckles condescendingly through your arousal. “If I knew any better I’d think you’re wet because of me, as if the screaming of my name wasn’t proof enough.”
“Mingyu...” you whine through your ceased breath.
“And you sound so pretty when you say my name too,” He groans as inhales your scent that blurs his surroundings, devouring you inside and out. “Fucking tease…taste so damn good.”
Mingyu’s chokehold loosens to cascade down your body, fingers moving like ribbons tracing your shape and memorizing every bump and curve through the thin layer of your shirt. Your voice gives out, clenching your fists as he explores you in swirls, moisture seeping out of your cunt but never ending and leaving you in an endless loop of pleasure.
He holds you up by your legs, your thighs crushing either side of his face as he buries himself in your insatiable pussy while its dripping down his chin and neck. He groans inside you, mustering every impish sound possible as he eats you clean, not minding how you’re at the end of your wits locking his head in place.
“G-gyu, shit,” you sputter. “I’m c-close.”
He simply scoffs, “Good,” plunging his tongue deeper, nose pushing against your swollen clit. Words stay lodged down your throat, trapped from escaping as you writhe in his grip and he swallows the taste of you succumbing to his control. You aren’t aware of the eyes watching every second of you give in, how they beam with pride and greed as he goes for more. The notes of fruit and musk only makes Mingyu’s craving intensify, unwilling to surrender the sweet nectar once he’s gotten his taste. 
With a yelp, he drops your legs and tugs you toward him, rendering you defenseless as he's clamped either of your side. You drink in his body towering over you as he swiftly pulls his shirt over his head and off his body, bestowing you a deific image that you never grow tired of.
“Shall I help you undress?” He offers, kindly for once.
You drop your head in a reluctant nod and your heart swells at the sight of his smile before they capture your lips, tasting yourself on his tongue.
Mingyu’s movement isn’t needy, it’s efficient and effective. Salty peppermint kisses and hands that move gingerly with ease culminate proof of a man that has countless amounts of partners and endless experience. Almost as if he’s ready for any and every given opportunity and you more than believe it.
Seeing as he knows how to handle himself, undoubtedly that meant he’d know how to handle you. That rouses you, anticipation resonating in the pit of your stomach, and like that, you’ve embraced your nudity just as Mingyu has in the safety of his firm arms.
He manages to kick off his pants, freeing him of the restraint of fabric and his hips dip into yours. And again and again. And again and again. Just to show you what you’ve created in your messy experiment. 
If you weren’t already hot under his touch, you swear the room was hotter than any vast desert. Perspiration sprayed against your back, your forehead, your chest, but strangely you’re obsessed with his and the incidentally salty taste of his skin as you kiss. “You feel huge,” you mutter in a flustered breath. 
His cock pulsates through his briefs against your thigh, screaming to join the party and make himself known in ways he hasn’t shown yet. Not yet with you. He smiles against your lips, grasping your hips more firmly. More definitely. “It’s too soon to be saying that.”
“Then…” Your fingers, tantalized by the appearance of his styled hair, didn’t resist the urge to comb through it, pleasantly surprised with the silky, pliable sensation. “I hope I get to soon.”
“Pervert,” he repeats with a grin. His hand wraps around your wrist, pulling it away from his head and landing on the hem of his underwear. Mingyu is good at getting back on track as he immediately pulls his waistband away from torso, springing his cock that stands in your direction in determination. A familiar yet foreign sight that you never expected to be on the other end of. “By the way, don’t forget. You’re making it up to me. Not the other way around.”
Naturally, your hand finds the ridged texture of his shaft. “Yes, of course.” You feel it twitch under his touch, growing as a nail trails up a singular vein. “But I never said I’d make that easy.”
“Really? A sentence where ‘you’ and ‘easy’ just seems to fit.”
You sneer at him, calming down after seeing an amicable jab you’re used to. “You’re one to talk.”
“And I won’t be done talking. On your knees,” He demands.
“Or what?”
Mingyu isn’t new to your taunting but he can't help the steam coming out of his ears this time around. Gathering your weight, he swiftly turns you on your stomach and props you up as his cock settles between the cheeks of your ass. “I’ll do things like that. I’m patient until I’m not. Not when it comes to perverted brats like you.”
You voluntarily moan as you back into him, allowing the cock to slide up and down. “I’d like to see it. Unless you’re all talk.”
A familiar coolness of glass finds itself home in your sopping cunt. You mewl at the sensation, rolling your eyes to the back of your head. The side of your head braces for the bed and letting the toy suction your pussy, buzzing . “Fuck…”
“Spoke to soon, didn’t you?”
“Have—fuck—mercy…” Your words speak like pleads but your body could not be more delightful in taking every inch, adjusting from the backside in record time.
“See? Look at you take all that cock,” he spits in the smack center, rubbing around your rim and pussy thoroughly. “And knowing you and our conversations, I know you can take it well somewhere else. Isn’t that right?”
“Y-you wouldn’t…”
“I can. Unless…that’s not what you want. Unless you want me to leave this room without putting my cock in you and not fuck you like the dirty fucking slut you are.”
“Fuck…you…” The glass vanished through you, reappearing at Mingyu's will, muffling your protests, and swallowing the glass dildo satisfyingly from your cunt. The bedsheets become balls in your hand, wrinkled and worn, just as you planned to be after Mingyu is through with you.
“That’s not an answer.” He teases, thrusting faster.
“Shit…fuck…Yes please fuck, I want it. I want more. Please…”
“Excited are you, pervert?” He inquires, managing to grab the lube from a nearby drawer and squirt it on the ring of your hole. The bite of the cool gel stings in a way that’s familiar, but does not grow any easier as it physically and mentally preparing you.
“You…suck…Kim Mingyu…”
“I’ve already done that already, perv.”
Taking the crystal dildo out of your pussy, he carefully sets it aside, prepping your untouched hole for entry and feeling you clenched around his fingers. “So tight. What? Did you lie and you’re actually an anal virgin.”
“I’m not,” you moan in defense, hearing the erotic squelching burns your ears and makes your already hot skin scorching to the touch. His fingers are tolerable, but still bigger you’re used to and it’s more apparent as he inserts another finger. “I just never had anything that big. Nothing your size.”
“I’m honored.”
You hope that his cock could fuck you the way his fingers does, if not then better, already buzzing at the pace they move inside you, stretching you wider and wider.
“F-fuck off.”
“Not yet. It’s coming.” You feel the head of the dildo perk up your rim as it eases in you, the drip of lube between your cheeks drowning your hole and all the moisture it could ask for. Still, Mingyu is careful to adjust to your preference, opening you up and seeing how the toy slowly destroys you inside and out.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your hands slam against the bed, allowing the gradual introduction to take over all your senses. 
“You’re taking the cock so well up your ass, fuck. I haven’t seen anyone do that yet. Remember you talking about it, made curious if you actually could.”
“I don’t lie…about stuff…like that…” you spread your ass, offering the perfectly lewd view for Mingyu, practically dripping all for him.
“Shit, I need to be inside you.”
He rolls a condom on his length, tossing the wrapper where he doesn’t see it and teases your slit moist in your cum. In the midst of it, you feel the tip of his cock rubbing your clit, and your whine ensue as you wait for more, not properly being used to the full advantage. Mingyu laughs to himself, seeing how desperate you look, reveling in the sounds that leave your body as it fuels his cock before he plunges inside you.It's an indescribable sensation, almost sacrilegious in its intensity, yet it leaves you convinced that Heaven must reside wherever Mingyu is.
You thought you knew the meaning of being spit open until it’s Mingyu reintroducing the idea. His cock and toy planted  so deep inside you, fucking both of your holes until you’re rendered into like what he calls you, a perverted little slut. You don't mind in the slightest; in fact, when the thoughts swirling through your mind are nothing but incoherent, you're utterly indifferent to anything else. Your state of matter was to be fucked, double fucked, and fucked to ruin until you’ve come over and over again.
“Stupid slut…stupid…perverted…fucking slut…Look at you…you like getting fucked in the pussy and ass, hmm?”
“Yes god yes,” you confirm, devoid of words otherwise.
He smacks you full against the cheek, groaning into the sex thicken air as he melts into your body like butter. “Yeah? How does it make you feel?”
“Full…”
“You like that?” Another smack to your ass. “Fucking pervert likes being fucked full. Big fucking surprise.”
His thrusts grow rough, already annoyed by the toy in his hands when he’s eager to plant both on your body and fill the full extent of your body. “God you’re hot,” he mumbles, “Why does a pervert like you get to be so hot, hmm?” He rams into you, feeling you jump back against him.
“Makes me want to fucking drain my cock in you, but no, I have—“ he slams again, a burst of ache living your lips, “—Work! God, I fucking needed this. I needed you and every inch before I needed to leave.”
You’d respond if you weren’t so occupied. He drowns your thoughts out every second he’s inside you, to the point nothing else exists.
“Shit, I have work,” Mingyu repeats as if dawning the thought for the first time. He lets go of the toy and manages to direct it with his thrusts, moving him and the toy into you at the same pace. You scream at him, shattered breaths taking over you, and his name is the only consistent, as you spread yourself wider to take it, left with only the base of the toy and the end of Mingyu’s shaft.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you whine incessantly, shaking and bucking into him until you cum all over his cock, undoubtedly flooding and dripping down the side of your legs.
But Mingyu takes his time and it tastes sweeter than any candy, fucking your pussy and ass deeper, harder until his mind as gone as yours is. “Shit, shit, shit. Turn around and look at me.”
You do as told, dildo still in the pocket of your ass, as his cock is aimed at your lips, the condom abandoned just like its wrapper. His hands run in your hair, gripping from the root and he pushes you over the head of his cock, groaning as more pretty souvenir images appear for him to look back on. “Look at you. Good at taking cock there too?”
You nod, mumbling a confirmation before Mingyu penetrates deeper, noticing him lodged in you throat before bucking his hips in your mouth. “Then take it. Take all of my cum. Can’t leave another mess behind.”
Wide eyes of mischief look back at him, holding him by the back of his cock as you bob against him. He grips tighter to the back of his head, pulling and tugging as your hair become the size of his fists and you feel him hit the back of your throat. He now sees the white of your eyes, the flare of your nostrils, the quiver of jaw before it overwhelms him.
“Fuck, take it.” The load builds up to its full intensity, intoxicating him until theirs tears even in his eyes, the kind that supersedes one of joy. 
You hold his hips with both spread hands, welcoming his release with closed eyes. Your mouth gets flooded, blown up so full you’re close to choking, gagging from the contents dispersed in you.
“Take it,” Mingyu says fatigued. “You don’t have to swallow it, but take it.”
But you do swallow it, what you could anyway, and it’s inevitable that you’re a coughing mess when you unlatch from him, dribbling in a concoction of your bodily fluids and cum running along your torso, cunt, and legs.
“Okay,” Mingyu pants, “Now I really need to get to that train.”
You’re catching your breath as he cleans himself off with wet paper towels he had on hands, cleaning off the work of his cock but leaving the rest of him untouched. It’s fine, however, seeing as he glows with an air of lust, making him more charismatic than he normally did, and you’re brimming with pride knowing you’ve caused it. “I’m surprised you have that much energy off camera.”
“It helps, that it’s you.” He timidly admits, raising the temperature in your body. “And who said we’re off camera.” He points to the security camera at the corner of his room, reminding you too late that he’s used to using more than one camera to capture any and all angles. “I even forgot about it for a second.”
“Oh.”
“I can delete it if you want.”
“No it’s okay, but um….Send me a copy.”
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Note
I am not the asshole, and I think this whole thing is stupid, but I was promised that if I sent my side of things to this blog I could pick the hotel for our honeymoon, and I am marrying a man who once tried to take me BACKPACKING of all things, so this ask has become a necessity. In light of that:
AITA (I'm NOT) for planning the seating for our wedding in a logical way?
I got engaged in June, apparently in part because of my partner writing in to this blog (I don't know how to find or link to his posts, but I'm the man who got the cat to bite him, if that rings any bells?). At any rate, for the past ten weeks, I've been in the beginning stages of planning our wedding with my fiance, whom I have been secretly attempting to remove from the planning process as much as possible. I have ALREADY been given a list of his must-haves, and I AM incorporating as many of them as our budget allows. This has NOTHING to do with the emotional side of the event, and EVERYTHING to do with the fact that this is an idiot with no real planning experience or taste who thinks he knows more than me.
For the most part, this has worked very well. I'm the one who's been collating all the contact information for things, so I just replaced all the emails for the tacky companies with false addresses, responded to his inquiries as the companies to say the date was already booked or the price was outside our budget, and let him filter his way to the ones I DO like on his own. I also made a fuss about being "willing to compromise" on the few things he's picked I'm completely fine with in the hopes I can use it to make him compromise later, and have been humming portions of the songs I want on the playlist in the hopes he'll think he came up with the idea to include them himself.
None of this is the real problem. The PROBLEM is that he is deliberately ruining my seating chart, by moving our horrible friend's seat when I'm not looking.
The man in question dated both of us at one point in our VERY early 20s (both ended BADLY), is generally the messiest person we know, and will almost certainly get sloppy drunk and try to make a speech IF he does make an appearance. I'm banking on the fact that he won't, because he's also ridiculously wealthy, and will almost certainly send us some very lavish gift in lieu of coming.
He is SUPPOSED to be sitting beside my fiances aunt, at the same table as his grandmother, his work friend, and her girlfriend, because all four of these women are stone cold terrors who I believe are more than capable of keeping him in line on the slim chance he does come. My fiance INSISTS they won't be able to have any fun if they're running interference all night, and keeps moving him to sit at the head table instead. You know, where WE are. I finally caught him switching the label magnets on my planning board last night, and confronted him.
I tried leveraging how much I've been compromising already, that he's almost certainly going to RSVP no, and that I shouldn't have to deal with him on our big night. My fiance said he knew about all the fake emailing and such, and told me, and I QUOTE: "Look, the mind game shit was hot when it was just about the colour scheme or whatever, but I actually care about this. So you can suffer with everybody else, or you can do the normal thing and not invite a guy you hate to our wedding, you weirdo."
I said that if I did that, it would take out half his groomsmen, he called me an asshole and said I should go explain this to "literally any rational adult" so they could tell me I was in the wrong, and now here we are.
Would you recommend calling my fiance's bluff, since he doesn't want the man sitting near us either? Or should I focus on ensuring he'll turn down the invitation no matter what, so the matter of where he WON'T be sitting can be a moot point?
What are these acronyms?
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The update
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thedreamlessnights · 11 months ago
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Since requests are open, here's my suggestion: I recently revisited my old mythology book and found one of the myths about aphrodite bathing in a lake and blinds some pervs that sneaked up to watch her. Now, the reader might not have the powers of a goddess but you know what she does have? A dagger-happy vampire boyfriend more than willing to shank unwanted peeping toms (in his defense, he actually asked if he could be there, so no harm done here). Idk, I just like the idea of the reader having scary dog privileges and Astarion not minding looking menacing/scary while doing so
Thank you so, so much for this request, anon. It's an absolutely incredible concept, and it fits Astarion so well! I had such a fun time writing it, and I really hope you enjoy the result!
For Your Eyes Only
Astarion x F!Reader - NSFW
Content warnings: Mentions of brief, non-consensual voyeurism. Somewhat graphic violence, as well as mentions of blood, degrading terms, and the description of an injury and death. Explicit sexual content, including: oral sex (receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, blood drinking, and ear play. Tags: Takes place post-Cazador, some point in Act 3. Includes mild spoilers. Established relationship, a bit of emotional hurt/comfort, and tender smut.
Word Count: 5.8k
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After the darkness and chill of the Shadowlands, the heat in the city feels suffocating.
You missed the warmth dearly back then, trudging through despair and gloom, thinking of nothing but the inevitable relief of the city. Your bones always ached something awful in that foul place, never warm enough to ward away the icy air. Now, though, it occurs to you that you hadn’t fully appreciated the cold when you had it. 
The sun that streams down from the skies is blistering - scorching, even - and without reprieve or relief. Sweat courses down your neck, soaking the collar of your shirt. Your socks are damp inside your boots, and where the leather meets your calves, they’re chafing. 
Gods, what you wouldn’t give for a bit of that chill again. Even with the achy bones.
What’s worse is the mud, somehow. One would think that Baldur’s Gate would be scarce on its share of the stuff, but it’s everywhere. Tracked up from Rivington, puddling in the streets, clinging to the bottom of boots.
Granted, your boots have seen more than their fair share of mud since the nautiloid: sticky, wet, warm. It’s seeped into socks and splattered across new armor, stained some of your favorite nightwear. Sometimes, when you’ve finally settled down for dinner, you’ve been able to taste it. No amount of scrubbing rids you of the earthy, bitter taste for long. 
The mud in front of you is different, though. By all accounts, the heat should have baked everything at least somewhat dry, but this puddle remains. If it can even be called a puddle, really. The gloppy, wet mess looks more like a pond, and completely blocks the only path ahead. Even the edges of it remain entirely liquid. If you didn’t know better, you’d think it’d just rained.
A quick glance at your map confirms what you’d feared; this is the only nearby route to your destination. You’re on the outskirts of the city. Rock walls line either side of the path, too steep to climb. You know for a fact that Shadowheart had recently used your last Potion of Flying. Either you lose hours of progress to get Gale from camp so you can cross, or you’ll have to proceed through this stupid pond.
Astarion watches you eye the mess with a dramatic flick of his wrist. “Oh, by all means, darling, you go first!” he exclaims, raising a brow. “It won’t be me jumping in that slop.”
Karlach frowns at the mud’s appearance, tapping the toe of her boot against the surface. It ripples at the movement, brown waves gently sloshing against the surface of the nearby stone. “Can’t be that deep, right?”
“I don’t know,” you reply. You’re aching for a stick or loose branch, something to measure it, but there’s nothing around. Just grass and stone, the scalding sun on the back of your neck, and the muddy pond directly in the middle of the path. 
“I say we go back,” Shadowheart urges. “I don’t know about any of you, but I’m not keen on dirtying myself.”
“We’d have to backtrack through hours of traveling,” you point out. “There’s no other way forward. I’ve checked the map.”
“Fine,” she relents, crossing her arms across her chest. “You go first, and we’ll follow behind you. Once we’ve seen it’s safe, that is.”
And, hells, you do not want to step foot in there. Not one bit. Still, do you have much of a choice? Your feet are already aching from the day’s walk. It would be devastating to lose all your progress. So, no - you really don’t have a choice, not if you want to get those Netherstones and stop the Absolute in time. The quakes in the city have only been getting worse.
“Alright,” you finally reply, your voice stronger than you feel. 
You step forward, pressing your right boot against the mud, then apply your weight. Your heel breaks the surface with a terrifying rush of movement, and your leg instantly slides down into the muck - much deeper than you’d thought, deeper than it should be. When your foot hits the bottom, sticky, cold mud splatters up, painting your shirt, neck, and parts of your face. 
Suddenly, the day isn’t quite so warm.
When you finally muster the courage to look down, your right leg is submerged up to the knee, soaking through your trousers. You can practically hear the sick squelch of it making its way into your socks, squishing between your toes.
“Urgh,” you mutter, wrinkling your nose as you attempt to pull your leg up. “Disgusting.” But it won’t budge. In fact, your squirming seems to be making you sink down even further. You try to shift your weight, but your balance is uneven with one leg in and one leg out. You’re dangerously close to losing your footing, and every bit you struggle threatens to tilt you face-first into the makeshift mud pond. In a prime moment of idiocy, you plant your other foot in the mud for support, and find your bottom half completely unable to move.
“What a brilliant idea,” Shadowheart says. “Now you’re stuck.”
“Thank you, Shadowheart,” you grit out, sweat dripping down your neck as you attempt to twist yourself around. “I had no idea!”
Karlach steps behind you, laughing a little. “Come on. Up you go, soldier,” she says, leveraging her arms under yours and giving a quick tug. You’re expecting the mud to release you, but it doesn’t. Your legs don’t budge - not even an inch. 
“What in the…?” she mutters, giving another pull. This one has more force behind it; when she tries to haul you up, white-hot pain sears up through your ribs, ripping an agonized cry from your lips. No matter how hard she yanks, the mud’s grip only tightens around you. It’s beginning to feel like you’re a brittle piece of rope in a vicious game of tug-of-war. 
“Shit! I’m sorry!” she exclaims. “So, so, sorry!”
“What are you doing?” Astarion asks, his voice suddenly sharp. ���You’re hurting her! Put her down!”
“So she can get sucked further into the mud?” Shadowheart asks. Her voice is lined with fear now, which is scaring you more than anything else about this miserable situation. “We have to get her out!”
But it quickly becomes clear that no matter how hard Karlach pulls, it’s useless. Every yank is agony, and you only sink further and further. Tears stream down your cheeks from the pain, and your spine feels like it’s gained a good two inches from being stretched, but still nothing. No give at all.
Eventually, Karlach lets you go. Your body plops down in relief, but the mud is somehow deeper than it was before. It’s up to the bottom of your ribs now. 
“Fuck me,” she pants, wiping her forehead. “What should we do?”
“How should I know?” Astarion’s face is drawn, more pallid than usual. His lips are pinched into a line. He should be telling you I told you so, making jokes - and you know he would be, if he were anything but absolutely terrified. Your panic is bad enough with the heaviness of the mud on your chest and lower body, but the look on his face? That tells you it’s even worse than it feels.
 “Step back,” Shadowheart instructs quietly. “I have an idea.” 
Once the two of them are out of the way, she steps forward. Stretching out her hands, she mutters an incantation into the air. In seconds, the slight chill of the mud surrounding you becomes sharp, painful ice that burns against every exposed inch of skin it touches. A very muddy shade of ice, but ice all the same. 
Karlach’s axe crashes through the surface and it shatters, breaking around you. After another hit and a moment of digging, she finally has you out: freezing, still covered in mud, and very sore - but alive.
“Thank you,” you manage, choking out the words between your shivering.
“Never say I didn’t do anything for you,” Shadowheart says, smiling a little. She lets out a breath of relief, the tension bleeding from her shoulders. “Now. Turning around, are we?”
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By the time you get back to camp, you’re the most uncomfortable you’ve ever been in your life. You’re wet and cold and exhausted, caked with dried mud that pulls at your skin when you move. It’s in your hair, on your face, and in your shoes, squelching with every step. The feeling makes you want to crawl out of your skin. Your ribs are sore and achy, and - on top of all of that - you’ve lost a good day’s worth of travel. 
The only thing you want is to fall into Astarion’s arms, but he wrinkles his nose when you come near, holding out a finger to stop you. “Oh, no you don't,” he says. “Bath first. Then you can talk to me, darling.”
It seems no amount of persuasion is going to change his mind, so you head back to your tent and grab a number of supplies - soap, sponges, a towel, and a change of clothes. Your trusty knife for protection. The river is bound to be freezing, but it’s better than sponging yourself down and hoping for the best. 
Thank the gods you’d found a decent pair of boots in an abandoned house today, because the ones that are currently plastered to your feet will take days to dry out, even in the hot sun. When you get to the nearby river, you don’t even bother to take them off before you plunge them into icy water, sufficiently drenching them until you can furiously loosen the mud enough to slip them off and toss them onto the riverbank.
The rest of your clothing gets the same treatment: the trousers which slowly pull away from your skin, the shirt that’s splattered with mud and covered in it up to the waist. Your hair will no doubt be a disaster, too. 
You’re still sitting in the soaking-wet clothes when you hear the sound of a twig snapping behind you. Your hand instantly grabs for your knife, ready to throw it at whatever threat might be in the woods as your eyes sweep along the trees. 
Nothing. You find nothing.
“Darling,” comes Astarion’s voice. He slips out from the shadows, immaculately clean, gazing down at the weapon in your hand with a lifted brow. “Planning to render me dead twice-over?”
“You scared the living hells out of me, Astarion!” you snap, sucking in a shaky breath. The blade drops from your loosened fingers, softly thumping against the dirt. “What are you doing out here?” 
He steps closer, taking a seat on a nearby log. “You were taking ages to get clean,” he whines, sprawling out his legs in front of him. “And, unfortunately, our companions haven’t had an argument all night. How else am I meant to entertain myself? So here I am. Trudging through the woods for your company.”
“You could give me a warning next time,” you reply, still a little jarred. “I thought you were someone hoping to catch an eyeful.”
A smirk flickers across his lips. “Oh, but I am,” he says. “Do you mind terribly?”
Against your will, your cheeks heat, and his smile widens. “I don’t mind,” you say. “Not if you behave, that is. Hands to yourself.” 
“I’ll be on my very best behavior,” he promises. Leaning forward, he prods your boots, wrinkling his nose at the sight. “Gods below. Those disgusting things should be burned.”
“I have an extra pair.” You move to tug your shirt off, but it’s clinging to you. “Gods damn that stupid mud pile. I should have asked Gale to use a cleaning spell.”
“Oh, please,” Astarion says. “He’s been sulking in his tent all evening. Apparently, being asked to blow yourself up by an old flame doesn’t do much in the way of socializing.”
The shirt finally pulls free, and it’s clear that your smallclothes have received the same treatment as the rest of your garments. Gods, you really should have asked for that cleaning spell. This mud is going to take ages to get out.
“Hand that here,” Astarion says, motioning for your shirt. You toss it to him, and he inspects it closely before setting aside.
“What?” you ask. “What were you looking for?”
“Oh, darling, nothing,” he says. “That’s my ‘to be burned’ pile. We’ll get you a new one.”
You’d argue, but you aren’t very attached to your current outfit - and besides, after weeks of trekking through wilderness and Shadowlands alike, it’s falling apart even without the mud. 
“Do what you want with it,” you grumble, finally pulling off your smallclothes. “That shirt was barely surviving anyway.”
You glance over your shoulder and find him observing with a raised brow, slowly taking the sight of you in. You must look like a mess, but you’d never know it from the glint in the eye, or the complacent smile that plays upon his lips. Heat stirs low in your belly, simmering under your skin. Later, you tell yourself. When you aren’t covered in filth.
You lather up the soap on your sponge, scrubbing away the mud the best you can, but the damned stuff takes ages to get off. By the time you’re finally clean, the silvery moon is high in the sky, and your skin is beginning to prune.
Astarion makes a small comment or two, but mostly seems content to watch you in silence. His gaze burns over every inch of exposed skin, leaving phantom heat wherever it stalls. All you want is to get out of this damned river and touch him, but you’re determined to get every bit of the mud off before you do, and it’s taking much longer than you’d hoped.
When you’re finally presentable, you start on cleaning your filthy smallclothes. The soap is slippery, making it difficult to do much scrubbing, and the water alone is doing hardly anything. 
Astarion watches you struggling, huffing as you nearly drop the soap bar in the river. After a moment, he lets out an exasperated sigh. “Dearest, you do realize that it would be much easier if you-”
But his words suddenly cut off. His head snaps toward the woods, and every nerve in your body burns with fear. In the span of seconds, he’s lunged forward, grabbed your knife, and darted after the sound. 
Not a moment later, there’s a loud crash - some form of impact as he tackles whatever it was that he heard. You instantly push yourself out of the water without thinking, numb, your heart pounding in your chest as you stumble into the forest after him. It only takes a few steps in before you see it: a man on the ground, Astarion’s knife to his throat.
Your stomach churns, and your skin prickles in the air’s chill. How much had he seen? How long had he been standing there?
Astarion is shouting something at him, and the stranger is struggling against his hold, but it’s useless. He’s a scrawny, weak little thing, no match for Astarion’s lithe, nimble strength. No amount of twisting or fighting dislodges Astarion’s grip. After a moment, he finally gives up, cackling like an old hag as his head plops down against the dirt.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you here and now,” Astarion hisses, anger contorting his features.
In response, the man spits in his face. “She’s your bitch, is she?” he croaks. “You can take a turn after I’m done with her.”
Astarion snarls in response, gripping the man’s collar and pressing the blade deeper into the skin until it draws blood. 
“Wait,” you call, stepping closer. “Don’t.”
Astarion blinks in disbelief, sitting up, careful to keep his weight on the stranger underneath. “My love, you can’t be serious,” he says. “You want to spare this-”
“Spare?” you echo, cutting off his words. “Who said anything about sparing him?” 
Something glints in his gaze as he takes in your words. “Darling,” he drawls, his tone admirational. “By all means.”
He hands you the knife, and you kneel down next to him. It’s heavy in your hand, cold and smooth as you run your finger over the flat edge of the blade. You stare at the shimmer of it for a moment, entranced, somehow calm in the midst of this chaos. Then you slam the bottom of the hilt into the man’s nose.
There’s a sickening crunch before he screams, blood streaming over his mouth and spilling down his chin. Even after last night’s feeding, Astarion tenses up at the smell of it, but the curl of his lip tells you that he won’t be drinking from this piece of absolute refuse.
When the stranger reaches over and grabs at your arm, you almost don’t even realize - you’re so caught up in your own mind, in the weight of the knife in your hand. Then his nails dig into your skin, and everything hits you at once.
The freezing night air. The stinging, throbbing pain that flares through your skin as he claws at you, unable to do much more. The feel of Astarion’s hand, gentle but firm, prying the knife from your grip. It happens before you can even react - a swift slice of the blade, slitting the man’s throat. Dark blood, gushing from the wound and onto the dirt below.
For a moment, there is nothing but the sound of your breathing. Sharp but shallow, straining in your chest. Jagged air that flows in and out, but it does nothing to stop the increasing amount of black in your vision. 
You’ve fought and killed more people than you can count so… why does this feel different? Why here, why now? You’ve nearly died before, so why does the scrape on your arm feel like it’s much more than that?
Then Astarion’s hands envelop your cheeks, blissfully cool, and the panic and pain seep out all at once.
“Darling,” he’s saying, half-breathless, “are you alright?”
You manage to nod, and some of the concern leaves his eyes. He runs his fingers over the scrape on your arm, and you wince. “We need to get you patched up,” he murmurs, his brows pinching together.
“Don’t take me to Shadowheart,” you choke out. She’s already done you enough favors, and you won’t be able to stand her disapproving gaze if you disturb her rest after today’s fiasco.
He huffs. “Stubborn little thing,” he mutters, but he doesn’t argue. 
Instead, he heads back to your supplies by the river. When he returns, he wraps a towel over your shoulders, and it’s only then that you realize you’re naked. Completely, utterly naked. It had been bold of you to break that bastard’s nose in the nude, but… well, it hadn’t been your intention.
He’s dead now, though. He’ll never look at you again.
Astarion sweeps you up into his arms and carries you out of the woods along with your clean change of clothes, holding you tight against his chest and leaving your soiled clothing behind. 
You can’t find it in you to care at the moment. You’ve scrounged up plenty of clothing along the journey; those torn, stained things won’t be missed. Not to mention, if you ever need more, Astarion will gladly steal you some new ones.
He takes you to your tent, and you’re grateful to see that everyone else has turned in for the night. Anyone awake to see you would inevitably have questions, and this only affirms your decision to avoid Shadowheart - if you woke her up to heal a minor scrape on your arm, she’d be seething. 
And though she’d undoubtedly be sympathetic after hearing the cause, you don’t think you can muster up the words to tell her what’d happened.
After he’s carefully set you down on your bedroll, Astarion yanks the flap of your tent closed and reaches for your pack, digging through the contents until he’s found some bandages. His grip is gentle as he takes your arm and swipes some remnants of a healing potion over it. You’ve been through this dozens of times, but you can never seem to shake the urge to wince as it sets in - the potion stings just a bit before it soothes, a sharp tingling that fades into a sweet, balming relief. 
You’ve calmed down some, warming up in your tent with him, but Astarion’s hands are shaking as he wraps the wound. His brows are pinched together, his swallows are thick and strained, and he can’t seem to meet your eyes, even when he’s done bandaging you up.
“Astarion,” you murmur. “He’s dead.”
He stills in place, jaw clenching as he inhales sharply, still not meeting your gaze. Instead, he glowers down at the tent’s floor, his hands balling into fists. “He deserved so much worse than that,” he snaps. 
You don’t argue with him. Instead, you let him fuss over you, taking the time to smooth through your wet hair, plucking out remaining leaves and twigs from the woods. He gets you into a warm, fluffy robe - only the gods know where he’d managed to find something like that - then pulls you close, his thumb stroking over your cheek. You rest your head against his chest and close your eyes, listening to the soft sounds of his body working under his skin. No heartbeat, of course, just the quiet churn of his movements, the rise and fall of his ribs that’s become habit to him. 
After a moment, he takes your face in his hands, just as he had in the woods - but when you meet his gaze, there’s a sharp intensity in his eyes rather than fear. He takes you in little by little, tilting your head up to brush his fingers over the fading marks on your neck. 
Then he leans in, and you catch the smell of him you know so well, lingering on his skin like soap. Bergamot, rosemary, brandy. It’s what you associate most with him, that sweet, sharp scent that bathes over you. When his lips finally meet yours, the kiss is rough and desperate, heated and aching. His fangs scrape over your lip, grazing the delicate skin but not breaking it. His tongue slides into your mouth, and his hand returns to the back of your neck, tightening his grip.
One of your hands fix into his shirt as you lean into him, nipping at his lip. You shift your free hand up into his hair, tousling through the soft, silky curls before gently tugging. He groans and pulls you closer, and - gods, it’s incredible. Warmth drags down your spine like a hot coal, searing and addictive. You squirm a little in his grasp, shifting until you’re straddling his hips, and he pulls away to kiss down your jaw, murmuring soft words into the skin.
When he gets to your chest, you let him untie the robe and spread his hands underneath, peeling the fabric off your shoulders, fingers slowly warming as they trail down your back. His hands settle on your waist as he kisses you again, mouth soft against yours.
Gods, you need him. You’re already soaked, and he’s barely even touched you.
You can feel him hardening underneath you, his movements growing desperate, his breathing labored. You grind your hips against him and he lets out a strained noise against your lips, shuddering. He pulls away, examining your expression as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. 
The movement is tender and incredibly sweet, but you’re hardly patient. You’ve been wanting him ever since he sat on that log in the forest, gaze roaming over every inch of you. You let out a soft whine, attempting to tug off his shirt. He does absolutely nothing to help you.
“Astarion,” you breathe. “Please.”
“Hm? Did you want something, darling?” he asks, the desire in his voice betraying his otherwise casual tone.
“I want you,” you tell him, rolling your hips again in search of the friction you so desperately need. “Please. I want you.”
“Easy, love. You have me,” he replies, brushing his thumb against your lips. Your heart swells with a fondness that would threaten to make you cry if you weren’t so ridiculously needy.
And finally, thank the gods, he takes off his godsdamned shirt.
You run a hand up his shoulder, then into his hair. You’d once thought that he was using a special shampoo - his hair was so soft, it seemed the only explanation. Then you’d seen him with the same shampoo you were using, and you’d practically wept with envy over his ridiculously perfect genes. Even now, as you run your hands through the silk-soft curls, you don’t understand it. 
Then you trace up the line of his ear, and he shudders, leaning into your touch. When you gently massage the tip of his helix, he lets out a soft, seeking noise and his eyes flutter shut. Hells, you swear that you can feel him growing even harder beneath you. Another roll of your hips and his eyes slowly open again, half-lidded and glazed with desire. His hands firmly grip your waist, and there’s the briefest sensation of falling as he rolls you back onto your bedroll, tucking the pillow under your head.
He kisses along your clavicle, nosing down your ribs, humming against your skin. Feather-light brushes of his lips meet your ribs, then your breast, pausing to swipe his tongue over your nipple before he proceeds downward. When he arrives at your navel, your legs automatically spread open for him, and he lets out a hum of approval. He takes a leg in his hand and kisses up the thigh, warm, sharp kisses that trail up to the place you want him most.
He starts off slowly - a long lick over your clit, a quick swipe of his tongue before he settles between your legs, propping your thigh over his shoulder and starting a maddening rhythm. After all this time, you really should know how much pleasure to expect - but after everything, after his confession in the Shadowlands and the fear with Cazador, this still feels… new.
And Astarion is very, very good at what he does. He seems to know exactly what you want before you do, before your mind can put it into tangible thought, and before your body can even search for it. He works a finger into you, then two, and you’re left gasping and squirming as he sets an agonizingly slow pace. After a moment, he speeds up, just where you want him, perfect, perfect-
And then he pulls away, and the look on his face practically shouts that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Of course he does. He’s always been a tease. His fingers continue their work, languidly dragging in and out of you as he speaks.
“You know,” he says, pressing a kiss to your thigh, “back at the river, this was all I could think about. Getting my mouth on you. Watching you come apart piece by piece.”
Gods, he’s been direct before, but never that direct. Frankly, you’re surprised you don’t come then and there. Instead, you clench hard around his fingers and whimper, rolling your hips in time with his movements.
“Astarion,” you pant, unable to coax your mind into forming a coherent reply. “Gods, Astarion.”
He hums in response, flashing you a wicked grin. “That’s it, darling,” he encourages, shifting his fingers until they’re brushing against a spot that makes your vision black out. “Say my name. Let everyone hear you.”
You manage a laugh that quickly fades into a soft moan. “The entire camp will kill me if I wake them up.”
He nips at your thigh. “Let them try,” he muses. “They’ll have to get through me.”
He lowers his mouth between your legs again, and your head falls back against the pillow. It’s an embarrassingly short time before your muscles start to tense up, wiring you with pleasure from head to toe. One of your hands fixes in his hair, pulling tightly as white-hot pleasure sparks through your abdomen, and oh, gods, you’re coming-
Your vision cuts out again. Your mind fuzzes over, drunk with pleasure, leaving you shuddering, clenching around his fingers, moaning into your free hand. 
You know he’d prefer to hear you, but if you actually disturb any of the others, you’ll die of embarrassment. One day, the two of you will have your own house with a real bed, and you’ll be as loud as you want. For now, you muffle your cries into your fingers and tremble through your climax.
Your body floats weightlessly for a moment in what must be Elysium, until you finally rejoin yourself and find your limbs heavy and uncoordinated. Astarion huffs, placing a final kiss on you until he crawls upward, kissing up your chest again. 
He’s still holding himself back - you can see it in the way he moves, in the tension of his muscles and the coil of his shoulders. There’s a fire in his eyes, a hunger that you recognize so well. When he reaches your neck, you instinctively tilt your head, allowing him access to his usual spot. 
For a moment, he hesitates, his warm breath fanning over the skin as your pulse hammers in your throat. Then he groans, grinding himself into your leg as he bites down, chasing his pleasure against your thigh as your blood spills into his mouth.
You know this routine so very well by now. The sting of the bite, and the numbness that follows. The ebb and flow of your blood, filling his mouth. The slight dizziness that comes before he pulls away, swiping his tongue over the bite for one final taste.
“Gods,” he pants, gripping your shoulder. Then, to your utter disappointment and confusion, he pulls away. “Wait here, my sweet. I need to - I’ll be right back. I promise.”
And before you can protest, he’s scrambling out the tent. For a long, numb moment, you stare at the tent opening, wondering if you’re dreaming. The silence of the tent grates on your ears, echoing the sound of your breathing until you can barely stand it. Then he’s pushing inside again, a scroll in hand as he closes the tent.
“Do I want to know what that is?” you ask.
“A scroll of Silence, darling. I’ve been saving it.” He flashes you a grin, murmuring the incantation as the scroll shimmers in his hand. Pure Weave, confined into parchment. 
You don’t hear the spell take effect, but you feel it. It’s a thickness in the air, a heaviness in your movements. 
Astarion doesn’t waste another second. He pushes up to kiss you, and it’s messy - your tongue against his, the sting of sharp teeth, your hand in his hair and his hand on the nape of your neck. There’s the taste of metal and herbs: your blood mixed with the remnants of a healing potion. He spreads your legs with his knee, then sits back on his heels and reaches down to undo his trousers.
You study him for a moment. The crease of his brow. The alabaster of his skin, sculpted out like a statue from marble. 
If you were an artist, you’d make him your life’s work. You’d chip out his every feature little by little, painstakingly working away at the stone to define the look in his eyes when he tells you he loves you. You’d spend ages carving every wrinkle, every line, every perfect imperfection. The touch of it would be cold, like him, but it could never compare to how he looks as he settles over you, eyes blown dark with desire. 
He inches closer, still on his knees, and takes hold of your thighs, lifting them up to meet his hips before gently easing inside of you. He lets out a sharp exhale as he slowly presses deeper, his grip shifting to your waist.
Nothing could compare to the way it feels as he fills you up inch by inch, murmuring praise, telling you how beautiful you are for him. “Darling,” he bites out, gritting his teeth at the pleasure. “If anyone ever tries anything like that with you again, I’ll tear them to shreds.”
You laugh a little, breathless, delirious in the delicious stretch of him inside you. “I won’t stop you. I just might ask to break their nose first.”
He shakes his head, but a small smile plays on his lips before he straightens and starts his rhythm. Slow, even thrusts that leave you grasping at the blankets beneath you, trying to steady yourself in the waves of sensation. He stares down at you, half-drunk on your blood, lips parted and his cheeks flushed.
“You feel incredible,” he breathes. “Gods. You’re incredible.”
Your eyes don’t quite know where to land. They never do. Now, they flutter over his abdomen, taking in the sight of the muscles that ripple and contract with the rolling of his hips. The droplets of sweat that slowly build on his skin, glimmering like crystals. 
His jaw clenches, and his pace starts to quicken, and the feeling of him inside of your aching cunt is just so godsdamned good. His cock stretches you out like it was made for you, and soon your lungs are hardly filling with air. You can’t think, and you can scarcely breathe. All you know is that you’re not going to last much longer.
You tug at the blankets and shut your eyes, and he lets out another soft, aching noise as he thrusts deeper, faster, filling you up, the slick sound of your arousal echoing through the tent and mixing with the heaving of your breaths. You clench around him and he groans, shifting the angle of your hips, rhythm frantic.
“That’s it,” he pants. ���Come for me, darling.”
And you do. Your body clenches around him as you cry out, back arching, pleasure overtaking every thought but one: Astarion. Astarion, Astarion, Astarion. Your breaths scrape shallowly through your chest and ecstasy burns through every inch of you, every nerve - until you feel paralyzed. Content, thoroughly fucked and sated, but paralyzed.
 You’ve just started to come back to your senses when Astarion follows you over the edge, a moan tumbling from his lips that sounds remarkably like your name. His hips thrust a few more times, chasing after his pleasure, clumsy movements that slow to a halt as he shuts his eyes. He shudders, then slackens, carefully pulling out of you before he wraps his hands around your thighs and gently lowers them back to the bedroll.
You can barely move, still lost in the aftershocks of pleasure as he cleans you up, smoothing the hair out of your face as he lays next to you.
“You know,” he says, “I think I’m going to ask Gale to make us another one of those scrolls.”
And, gods, all you can do is laugh.
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mysecretlittlelibrary · 11 months ago
Text
Touch Tank
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Word Count: 5.5k (look it wasn't supposed to be this many- my characters got away from me)
Warnings: sheesh, oral (f receiving), fingering, handjob, creampie, Loki is very soft and worshiping, unprotected sex (be safe) I think that's it idk this is kind of mild compared to some of my other stuff- could be waaaay more raunchy lmao
Genre: fluff, smut
Summary: Loki is not the easiest person to get close to, but you're not deterred by his standoffishness. He deserves a friend in the tower and you're determined to be at least that much.
He's so pretty when he goes down on me // he tells me he's gentle when he wants to be // I think he wants to be gentle with me ~ Touch Tank by Quinnie
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***
You rush down the hall, excited for your night out with a group of your non-Avenger friends. You make a point to see your other friends as often as you can to balance those relationships with your ones on the team. After all, living with the Avengers means that you see them all the time, but being an Avenger is not all there is to you. Walking into the main room you're surprised to see Loki sitting at the kitchen counter, just kind of staring at nothing.
"You alright Lo?" You ask him carefully. Your question seems to pull him out of whatever trance he was in.
"I'm fine." He says, though his face isn't convincing.
"Okay? Happy staring- I'm going out so- I'll see you later then." You frown heading over to the main elevator. Loki's not exactly close to anyone in the tower except Thor, and even that he'd argue is false but you always make a point to include him even when the others ignore him a bit. As you ride down to street level you can't help but wonder what has him so pensive up there by himself. On the street, waiting for a taxi to flag down, you can't get yourself to shake Loki from your mind so- reluctantly you dial one of your friends.
"Y/n!" Your friend's excited voice practically yells down the line.
"Hey! Listen, you know I hate to do this, and I wouldn't if it wasn't important, but I'm not going to be able to make it out tonight, something's come up. I'm okay, I just can't come. You guys have fun! I want loads of pictures and a play-by-play once one of you returns to life tomorrow yeah?"
"Aw we're gonna miss you!"
"Ditto! But I'll see you guys soon! Tell the girls I said hi!" You say.
"Of course! Take care, and call if you need anything!"
"Same to you!" You blow a kiss as you end the call and sigh. "Dammit Loki." You roll your eyes as you turn around and go back inside. You ride the elevator back up to the main floor where Loki is still sitting at the counter. You knock on the counter in front of him and grab a bottle of water from the fridge.
"Aren't you meant to be going somewhere?" Loki's eyes narrow at you.
"I was, but I called my friend on my way down and she's actually not feeling too hot so we decided it'd be best to reschedule once she's feeling better." You shrug. You know better than to tell him you cancelled your plans because you saw him moping at the counter. He'd flip at the first possible hint of you pitying him, even though that isn't what this is.
"I see."
"Do you want to watch a movie or something?" You offer.
"What?" He scoffs.
"Well- I was supposed to be spending time interacting with people tonight and that fell through but I'd feel kinda bummed if I spent the whole evening alone now after all the mental prep to be social so if you can be so terribly bothered to hang out for a bit I'd- value that." You say. Loki looks you over as he considers your words and then he sighs.
"I suppose I could spare a few hours, but only because I can't stand watching you mope around the tower the way you do whenever you're disappointed, it's pathetic. But this favor is a huge inconvenience to me I just want you to know that." He says and you have to fight the urge to smile. You know the show of bravado is for his own sake more than anything, and you're willing to let him have it, but it's funny to think of how much rationalizing he's doing to convince himself it's alright to spend time with you.
"Your sacrifice is both duly noted and greatly appreciated. I can offer you compensation in the form of a meal or freshly baked cookies." You say. Loki's eyes light up very briefly at the offer of cookies, he'll never admit it out loud but he loves your baking, he always eats almost half a tray when you make them.
"You know Midgardian food has very little appeal to me, but I suppose a batch of cookies will do." He says with feigned disinterest.
"Do you want them now or at a later date?"
"I have no interest in dragging this out, so now would be better."
"Alright, give me five minutes to change, I'll make you some cookies and we can throw on a movie." You smile at him. You change out of your dress and into a hoodie and shorts. Twenty minutes later you're sat with a tray of cookies and a few other small bites with some random sitcom on the TV.
"I don't understand the point of this. Is there even a plotline?" Loki scoffs.
"Yes but only a little one."
"A little one?"
"So there are a number of shows that you can throw on and watch out of order with little consequence. Like if you do watch every episode in order there is a throughline of like character development and life changes but if you jump into, let's say, season 3 episode 2, you'll just see some funny little antics that are mostly inconsequential and chances are will not come up again until maybe the finale where they recount all their little goofs over the years." You explain.
"Why?"
"Mindless entertainment? It's nice to have something to watch that you don't have to be aware of watching." You shrug. "Lots of shows have complex storylines and characters that need to be paid attention to in order to comprehend what you're watching. Sometimes you don't want to do all of that." You shrug.
"If you don't want to think about what you're watching, why watch anything?" He frowns.
"Pass the time, fill the silence, any number of things. Like we have one on but we're talking now so we're not really paying it any attention, but because it's a sitcom we're not missing anything vital because there's nothing vital to miss. And when this conversation lulls to a stop we'll just tune back in and pick up wherever it's at."
"Your Midgardian habits are very strange." Loki hums.
"What do you do when you're bored and want to be entertained without much effort?" You ask him.
"That specific phenomenon I'm not quite familiar with. If I'm bored, I read, practice spells, on Asgard there wasn't much time for boredom." He shrugs.
"Well, things are different on Midgard. And seeing as you hate everyone and everything about this place you may find yourself well acquainted with that specific phenomenon sooner than you might think." You say.
You gotta say you're pretty proud of your ability to interact positively with Loki. When he first started living here you never would've guessed you'd be watching movies and having silly conversations like this. He's always been rather closed off from the team but perhaps that's something you can actually work around.
*~*~*
"Loki!" You call when you catch him in the hall.
"What?" He rolls his eyes.
"Are you busy?" You ask.
"Why?" His eyes narrow suspiciously.
"Well I was meant to go to the aquarium with Thor today-"
"Thor is on Asgard." Loki says.
"Yes exactly." You nod. You weren't meant to do anything with Thor today, but it seems the key to the trickster god is minor deceptions.
"Did he forget you were going to this 'aquarium' today?"
"It would appear so. Which- I'm not mad about really but these tickets did cost money and I can't exchange them for another date so I was hoping you'd be able to replace him that way the ticket doesn't go to waste." You explain to him.
"You don't have anyone else you could ask?" He huffs.
"Not on such short notice." You shake your head.
"How short is short notice?"
"We need to be there in forty minutes."
"Oh you have got to be kidding me." Loki scoffs.
"If you come with me, when we get back I'll bake you a batch of cookies." You offer. It seems to be the easiest way to get him to do things. You watch Loki contemplate for a moment before he caves to his inner discussion although you're not sure there was much of a debate once you offered baked goods.
"Very well, I'll go so you don't waste your money, but you can't keep bringing your nonsense to me in exchange for cookies." He says.
"Of course not!" You smile knowing damn well you will be doing it again if you see fit. Loki will never admit to enjoying your company or wanting you to make him cookies, but considering he always accepts your offers and never truly complains when you're together, you know the irritation is only a front. "We'll leave in 15 minutes 'kay?"
"Very well." He says. You head back to your room to get yourself together and 15 minutes later you meet Loki by the kitchen.
"Ready Lo?" You ask.
"Yes let's get on with it." He says. You loop your arm through his as you leave the tower and you're surprised he doesn't protest the contact, but you won't bring it up. At the aquarium, you excitedly talk about all your favorite exhibits as you walk from section to section. "So what was the plan exactly?" Loki asks.
"What?"
"With Thor, why were you bringing him here in the first place?"
"Oh! Well because there's a lot he still wants to learn about Earth so I've been trying to take him places where he can learn a number of things at the same time." You shrug.
"And how is that going?"
"We've done the zoo and a couple of museums already so I'd say not bad. Oh, we're by the jellyfish, you should see the touch tank!" You say.
"The what now?" Loki frowns. You grab his hand and lead him to the shallow tank of water off to one side.
"This is a touch tank. These are jellyfish, they're like 95% water and don't have brains, some of them are dangerous, but these ones are pretty harmless and you can touch them! Only on the tops of their heads though. Like this." You lift his hand up and push down all but two of his fingers and then slowly, you guide his hand into the water. "You have to be gentle." You tell him softly as you let his fingers touch the top of a moon jelly in the pool. You turn to Loki with a small smile only to find him already looking at you very intensely.
"I'm quite gentle when I want to be." He says quietly. You step back a bit and clear your throat, dipping your own fingers in to touch a jellyfish for yourself.
"Well I hope you want to be gentle with the moon jellies. This is one of my favorite things here." You tell him.
"So anyone can just walk up and pet the jellyfish?" 
"Yeah! Isn't it cool?"
"Sure." He nods.
"Wait till you see some of the other Jellyfish they've got here! They're insane!" You take his hand again and walk further into the jellyfish exhibit.
"They have more open tanks of creatures?"
"Oh- no all the other Jellyfish are in closed tanks." You giggle.
"Just as well, you said some are dangerous, no?"
"Well, yes, but aren't they just so beautiful?" You say looking at one of the tanks.
"Breathtaking." Loki says before he can help himself. He clears his throat, lucky you're so captivated with the floating water creatures that you don't even notice his eyes on you as opposed to the exhibits.
"Thank you for coming with me." You tell him.
"You bribed me."
"True- but you still could have said no. Especially since you're not even a fan of our, how do you say it? 'Mediocre Midgardian food'."
"Yes well, you pout when you're disappointed and it's incredibly displeasing to see. The whole tower suffers your moods. And while Midgardian food is mediocre yours is- the least. Plus I can rub this in Thor's face."
"I see you really weighed those pros and cons." You chuckle.
"I must. If I'm to disrupt my entire afternoon on such short notice." He shrugs. You roll your eyes and pull him through to the next exhibit but the smile on your face can't be hidden.
~*~*~
You hum to yourself as you enter the tower library.
"Good morning Loki." You say immediately spotting him on one of the lounge chairs. He's always in here, it's like his sanctuary and over the last few weeks you've found it easy to interact with him.
"It's 3pm y/n."
"It's morning somewhere Lo, time is arbitrary, don't be a grump." You shrug.
"What are you doing here anyway?" He rolls his eyes.
"Utilizing the insane collection of books we have considering there's only like 3 people living here that would ever pick up a book for from here."
"You've been coming here a lot lately."
"Why should you be the only one taking advantage of this big otherwise undisturbed room?"
"The best part of this room is that none of you come here."
"If you want to not run the risk of having to interact with anyone who lives here to might I suggest your room which has a lock on it." You smile brightly.
"Very funny." Loki scoffs.
"I thought so too!" You snap back. Loki gives you a dry look.
"Must you be so-"
"Charming? Witty? Adorable?"
"Not quite the adjectives I would've chosen." He says.
"Well next time finish your sentence." You wink at him.
"Are you trying to get under my skin?"
"Of course not! But it's pretty easy."
"Why must you bother me?" His eyes narrow.
"Maybe because you like talking to me more than you want to admit."
"And why would you think that?"
"Because you always do."
"Do what?"
"I'm sure you can figure that out." You say turning to leave the library.
"Do what y/n!?" He calls after you. "You didn't even get a book!" He shouts as the library doors close behind you. Loki frowns to himself for a moment and then decides to contact the only person he'd ever go to for advice on any subject. A looking glass spell slowly brings Frigga to life above his palm.
"Mother." He gets her attention.
"Loki?" Frigga picks up her looking glass with a smile. "Hello my darling boy. So lovely to hear from you. Thor tells me you're well."
"In the physical sense, yes." Loki nods.
"What troubles you my dear son?"
"I think Midgardian women might be more confusing than those on Asgard." Loki says.
"A woman? Do you feel for her?"
"Don't be ridiculous mother." Loki's words come out as a breathless chuckle.
"It is not ridiculous. She plagues your mind. Why, if you do not feel for her?"
"Truthfully I'm not sure." He frowns.
"Have you considered that you feel for her?"
"How would I know?"
"I believe the fact that you are asking may perhaps be a strong indicator already. This girl, do you see her often?"
"She lives here so yes." He nods.
"I mean intentionally darling." Frigga smiles.
"What?"
"Walking past her in the hallways is not quite what I'm referring to."
"Oh- well she's the least insufferable person here so- sometimes, yes. Though it's usually her bribing me to do things when her other plans fall through."
"What do you mean?"
"Well she invited me to this water creature house they call an aquarium a couple of weeks ago because Thor forgot he was meant to go with her."
"Are you sure Thor was meant to go with her?" She asks.
"I don't follow." Loki shakes his head.
"I wonder if this girl is playing tricks on my trickster." Frigga smiles knowingly.
"Do you overestimate her or underestimate me to believe I could be outsmarted by a mortal?"
"It is not a blow Loki, be calm my son. She plagues your mind when she is not there, she has made her way to a spot many people never have the pleasure of knowing within you. I believe she has stolen your heart and even you do not know it yet."
"What makes you think that?"
"In all your years Loki you have never once asked me about a girl. And this one seems to have you quite... wrapped."
"I resent that notion." He scoffs.
"What made you contact me?"
"Well she was-" Loki stops himself, his mother has already decided Loki is a goner, perhaps he shouldn't feed her any more information.
"She was with you Loki?"
"I spend a lot of time in the library. She came by and we had a short conversation that's all."
"What did she say?" Frigga asks.
"She thinks I like her more than I do. Or rather more than I will admit. I asked her why and she refused to answer."
"Well- what would lead her to believe that?"
"I have no idea." Loki scoffs.
"How is your relationship with her different than with the others?"
"I don't speak to the others. I only speak to her and Thor."
"Tell me about her."
"She is- happy, but not like Thor- his happiness is loud and aggressive she is- a calmer happiness. She seems to be crucial to the peace in this madhouse. Not for me, for everyone. She's also frustratingly smart, she has a comeback for everything and- it's nice to feel as though someone on this dreadful planet can match me- even if I find it vexing at times. Also she bakes- I don't quite enjoy Midgardian food but her treats are quite good though I refuse to tell her that-"
"I'm sure she knows." Frigga says with a soft smile.
"Why are you smiling like that."
"If you could see your face when you speak of this girl you would know like I know that your heart is no longer yours."
"My heart is very much still-"
"No darling. You may not realize but your mind has already given your heart to her. Follow your heart to her. Allow yourself to go there. It will do you good and you deserve it."
"Mother I cannot." He shakes his head.
"You can, and I suggest you do soon. If you do not tell her she has your heart you risk her unknowingly breaking it. Though I sense she is more aware than you may think. Certainly she's more aware than you are."
"You keep saying that-"
"There was no day planned with Thor. I would bet money she wanted to go with you, but you are a tricky thing. To catch fox you must think like one."
"What do I do mother? If you are right and this girl does have me, what do I do?" Loki asks.
"Be kind, be honest, be true. Don't wait too long." Frigga warns.
"Don't wait too long?" He frowns.
"Yes child, that woman will not wait forever for you to wake up."
"What if she is not waiting?"
"You misunderstand. I'm not saying she is waiting on you to come to your senses what I'm saying is that affections change one day she may not enjoy your time as she does now, someone serious may woo her and you miss your chance entirely, stars forbid it but something could happen to her or you. Do not get in your own way Loki, you have a tendency to do that."
"I do not get in my own way."
"Loki." Frigga says, leveling her son with an unimpressed look.
"I will consider your advice mother thank you." Loki cedes.
"Good. I will expect an update soon so be prepared for me to check in."
"Of course mother. Take care."
"You too my son." Frigga sets her looking glass down and Loki disconnects his end of the spell with a sigh. If Frigga is correct, Loki has much to consider, and rather quickly based on her warnings.
*~*~*
When the door to the library opens you don't bother looking up. The book you're reading is far too interesting to stop mid-page.
"What are you doing?" Loki jumps when he walks passed you. You look up momentarily, debating how badly you want to make a stupid joke.
"I'm practicing my backhand spring." You say flatly.
"You're sitting on the couch?"
"I'm also holding a book and yet you asked what I'm doing. I don't know what answer you expected honestly." You shrug.
"I just meant you're not usually sitting around in here."
"Is reading in the library that odd to you?" You chuckle.
"Well- no. I was just expecting the library to be empty." He says.
"Would you like me to leave?"
"Why would you offer to leave? You were here first."
"Yeah but I can read anywhere. Your hermit tendencies limit your spaces far more than mine."
"I am not a hermit." Loki rolls his eyes.
"Of course not." You hum.
"I'm not. I just have no desire to waste my time having unintelligent conversations with the uncultured morons that live here."
"Well don't let me bother you then."
"Not you, the others. And you can obviously stay."
"Why thank you for deeming me worthy enough to stay in your presence." You quip dramatically.
"It's not as if you care what I deem anyhow."
"True, that was sarcasm. Happy reading." You turn your attention back to your book and though Loki would like the conversation to continue he can't think of anything to say to justify pulling your focus from the book you're so clearly captivated by. You're in the library with your book for a few more hours and during that time Loki cannot help the way his eyes wander to you every so often, he doesn't even realize it's happening at first but once he does his mother's words that have been in his head for the past 2 weeks ring even louder.
~*~*~
"Y/n!" Wanda practically sings as she walks, no from the sound of it she's skipping, over to you at the kitchen island.
"Yes Wanda my dear?" You chuckle, setting your sandwich back on its plate.
"You know our coffee shop?"
"Around the block?"
"Yep!" She nods.
"What of it?"
"Well I heard through the grapevine that someone who works there has a crush on you."
"You heard- through the grapevine?" You quirk up an eyebrow at her.
"Cassie told me."
"How did you end up in that conversation?" You chuckle.
"Not the point, we should go down there!" She suggests excitedly.
"I'm eating a sandwich-"
"Not right now, tomorrow morning."
"You wanna tell me- who this mystery crush is? Because I'm not going anywhere if you don't tell me." You say biting your sandwich.
"It's Elliot."
"Oh he's cute-"
"Wanda." Vision calls as the main elevator arrives.
"Soooo we'll game plan when I get back?" She asks walking backwards.
"Fine." You shake your head and chuckle as she disappears in the elevator with Vision. You take a bite of your sandwich, presumably alone again, only to hear a throat clearing from behind you. You look over your shoulder to find Loki the source of the sound.
"Oh hi Loki." You say covering your mouth.
"Hello." He mutters.
"What brings you out of hiding today?"
"I'm not a hibernating bear you know."
"Of course not." You hum. Loki opens the fridge to grab something to drink, although it's mostly just so he can convince himself to bite the bullet and confess to you before this 'Elliot' from the coffee shop has an opportunity to turn your head like his mother warned him of.
"Do you have a moment? I know you're- eating but I'd like to talk- about something." He says awkwardly.
"Sure. I can use multiple senses at once. What's up?" You ask taking another bite of your sandwich. Loki opens his mouth a couple of times before he frowns. "Is something wrong Loki?"
"I don't know." He says, brows furrowed as he looks at the floor.
"You don't know if something's wrong? Are you dizzy? Dehydrated? Feverish? Do you need to sit down?" You sit up, concerned.
"No, I don't."
"You sure? You look kind of- constipated. I think you should sit down."
"I don't want to y/n." He grits out.
"Okay, calm down no need to get angry with me for caring."
"You said I look constipated!"
"Well you do! But only a little bit!"
"This is not going at all how I planned it?"
"What are you on about Loki?" You frown.
"Nothing it was just way easier to do this in my head."
"Easier to do what?"
"Never mind. Enjoy your lunch." Loki pivots and you almost knock over your barstool trying to stop him from leaving the kitchen.
"Not so fast god of mischief tell me what it is you're so panicked about."
"It's nothing y/n." He rolls his eyes.
"Nonsense. If it were nothing you wouldn't have made such a big deal out of it in the first place." You tell him.
"Yes, I over reacted, which is what I just realized and why I'm no longer interested in having this conversation." He says completely avoiding your gaze.
"Don't be a coward Loki." You snap.
"I beg your pardon?" His eyes widen.
"Don't be a coward. I've never known you to shy away from sharing your thoughts even when nobody asked don't tell me suddenly you're incapable of speaking your mind."
"I am far from incapable." He says.
"So spill it." You push.
"And if I don't?"
"Then you're not who I thought you were."
"Over a personal thought?" His eyebrow raises.
"It's the principle. What have you got to lose that makes you so fearful of your own voice?"
"Something I didn't even realize was important to me until recently." He says quietly.
"What's that?" You ask. Loki's eyes scan your face for a long moment, and if not for how close you are you'd swear he's holding his breath for how shallow it is.
"You." He whispers.
"I'm not going anywhere." You shake your head.
"I'm afraid you may take that back if you hear that which I refuse to say." He says.
"Is the reward worth the risk?" You ask.
"If I'm lucky."
"I'm disappointed that you see me as someone so easily run off Loki."
"That's not what this is." He shakes his head.
"No? It sounds like it."
"Do you see me as somebody that could be loved?"
"Of course I do. Thor loves you unconditionally. Your mother too from what I've heard."
"Do you see me as somebody that could be loved, by you?" This question is far more hesitant.
"Is that what you want?"
"In time, yes." He nods and a stray giggle escapes your lips.
"That's what you thought would drive me away?!" You shake your head. "Maybe you haven't noticed but I put quite a bit of effort into creating time to spend with you."
"Oh come on it's mostly coincidence, your friends canceling or Thor forgetting you had plans."
"You silly trickster. I chose to spend that time with you." You say.
"To be clear- does that mean you're as taken with me as I am with you?" Loki asks.
"You're taken with me?!" You blink at him in shock.
"Yes was I not clear about-"
"I'm joking Loki I just wanted to hear you say it directly." You smile.
"You vex me." He breathes out.
"And yet you like me anyway. Even more than I expected."
"Don't boast."
"How can I not?" You ask.
"I can think of a few ways to stop you."
"You can try Loki but I'm not so easily swayed." You taunt. Loki's hand comes up to your cheek and he kisses you. His lips are soft and he kisses you as if he's got all the time in the world. When Loki pulls away your eyes flutter open with surprise.
"How's that for sway?" He smirks.
"I'll admit that wasn't a terrible start." You breathe.
"Oh yeah?" Loki lifts you into his arms suddenly and you squeal in surprise as he carries you to his room. He lays you gently on his bed and kisses you again. "Not a terrible start is not enough." He hums trailing to your neck, peppering your throat with kisses and light nibbles. Loki pulls your shirt over your head. "Stars above you're beautiful." He mutters trailing his fingers delicately across your newly exposed skin.
"I'm not a flower you know." You giggle, the soft touches making you feel ticklish.
"What do you mean?" He frowns.
"Nothing bad. You're just being much more gentle than I'd have expected." You tell him caressing his face. He pauses for a moment as you trace his features.
"Do you remember what I said at the aquarium?"
"About the hammerhead shark reminding you of-"
"No about being gentle you silly girl." He says with a disbelieving chuckle.
"Oh! Yes that you can be when you want to be."
"Precisely."
"I didn't realize it applied elsewhere."
"Do you not like gentle?"
"Gentle is good." You shake your head. "Just unexpected." You smile. Loki returns your smile and leans down to press kisses down your abdomen. He pulls your shorts and panties off together, kissing your calf ones you're freed from the fabric. Loki's eyes are on you as his lips glide up your leg, opened mouthed kisses until he reaches your thigh where he bites at the skin, just enough for you to feel it. With one last kiss to your hip, Loki buries his face in your heat. You gasp at the first feel of his tongue against your center. His movements are unhurried as he watches your reactions to his mouth. When he finds the rhythm that you react the strongest to he sticks to it, enjoying the whimpers and moans he pulls from you and the way your body grinds against him.
"Oh god." You pant, one hand tangling in his hair. When you feel two of his fingers slowly glide into your entrance and curl upwards your eyes shoot open with a whine that makes Loki hum against you. You glance down at him, surprised to see his green eyes peering up at you with something akin to adoration shining in them and despite the pleasure building in your belly all you can think about for a brief moment is how... pretty he looks. Of course, that train of thought is lost when Loki wraps his lips around your clit, focusing his attention on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Between his tongue and his fingers you don't have a chance of staving off the orgasm that washes over you soon after. Loki works you through it, only pulling away when your breathing starts to steady.
"You are a vision in the heat of release you know." He says a hand on your chin to guide your attention.
"No, I did not know that." You smile reaching up to undress Loki. You pull his shirt over his head, littering his chest with kisses as you undo his pants but don't pull them down. You slip your hand into the waistband of his underwear stroking his hard hot dick.
"F-fucking hell you might be the death of me." Loki breathes out shuddering beneath your touch.
"I sure hope not. I quite like you alive you know." You joke with a giggle. Loki grabs your wrist and shakily pulls your hand from him.
"Right, if this goes on I'll embarrass myself." He says with a slight chuckle shifting to pull his pants down enough to free himself. He lines himself with your entrance and slowly works himself passed your walls with short rolling thrusts, deeper each time.
"That's nothing to be embarrassed about you know Loki." You tell him, admittedly a bit winded as he fills you.
"Maybe not, but I'll admit it's not ideal for our first time together." He groans as he bottoms out.
"Don't get caught up in expectations Loki." You tell him.
"Only my own darling." He says. Loki holds still for a few moments, allowing you to adjust to his size, only moving when you begin to grind against him.
"Move, Loki, please." You groan. Loki lets out a breath as he starts a steady rhythm. He's immediately a string of groans and curses in your ear as he fucks you, his sounds mingling with yours beautifully.
"Gods you feel even better than I could've imagined." He pants out between thrusts.
"Don't stop baby. God you feel so good." You moan, grinding up against his hips to meet his movements. Loki reaches between your bodies and his fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles against the bud that turn your quiet moans to loud whines.
"Come on darling, I want to feel you cum on my dick. Please y/n- let go for me." Loki coaxes, kissing at your throat again and it doesn't take long for your body to tense with the feeling of another orgasm. Loki groans deeply as your walls tighten around him from your release.
"Did you like that Loki? Feeling my pussy clench from cumming for you? You're close aren't you? Come on baby, cum for me."
Loki's thrusts speed up a bit, then falter, and stall altogether moments later as you feel the heat of his release inside you. Loki kisses your shoulder gently as he comes down from his orgasm, your fingers stroking his hair a comfort he wouldn't have thought he'd enjoy.
"You know- I know you were trying to get me to stop boasting but if boasting always ends with us like this I'm inclined to do it more often." You say after a few moments of silence and Loki chuckles against your neck.
"Boasting is not a prerequisite my darling." He says sitting up. Loki conjures a damp cloth and gently dabs first your face, then your neck, and carefully between your legs before helping you into his shirt.
"Well what is?" You ask.
"There isn't one you tricky girl." He chuckles pulling you into his chest.
"How am I the tricky one here?"
"You caught the fox, I think that's worth some tricky points."
"What fox? Are you the fox?"
"Mhm." He nods.
"Well- then that's by far the best thing I've ever caught." You smile up at him.
"The fox isn't complaining either." He hums and you cuddle closer to him. This hadn't exactly been your original gameplan with Loki but this is way better than any outcome you could've expected.
***
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ghostfacd · 1 year ago
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SHE WAS LIKE A SHOT OF EPRESSO
pairing. tom blyth x actress!fem!reader (mentions of other actors x fem!reader platonically)
summary. in which you are the epitome of sunshine and radiance within your co stars OR all the times your co stars have talked interviewers’ ears off about you
installment of this au | read for context!
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Time 1: Tom Blyth
“How’s Y/N as a cast mate?”
That question shouldn’t make Tom Blyth smile that wide — but he does — because he’s so utterly and unconditionally inlove with you.
“Oh gosh, I wouldn’t even know where to start,” Tom begins. “As her boyfriend, I think I’m being pretty biased when I say this, but Y/N Avocot as a cast mate has honestly been the best experience of my life. There has not been a day where she doesn’t make me laugh so hard that my ribs start hurting, and there hasn’t been a day where she hasn’t made me smile.” He pauses for a moment, pondering the next words to say.
“Y/N’s just that type of person, you know? She’s like the warm sunlight that engulfs you every morning you open your curtains, she’s like that newly brewed coffee that helps hydrate and bring you back to life. She’s everything.” And he says this in such a loving manner that the interviewer practically awes, the cameraman zooming the camera to show Tom’s dilated pupil.
“Your pupils are dilated!” The interviewer mentions, laughing as she points towards his eyes.
“Oxytocin is a warm hormone that’s released when you talk about someone you love,” Tom shrugs. “All my friends say my pupils dilate when I’m near Y/N, that’s just the effect she has on people.”
“Well there it is folks! Tom Blyth is truly inlove with Y/N Avocot!”
Time 2: Sean Kaufman and Lola Tung
It was an interview discussing the new season of The Summer I Turned Pretty, and it consisted of Sean and Lola who’s schedules were the only ones that were open that day.
“Guys! We’re so happy to have you today,” the interviewer starts.
“Why thank you,” Lola smiles brightly into the camera, smoothing out her dress.
“So obviously, this season is very important to the plot, it contains so much new exciting storylines including Sean’s character, Steven Conklin, and Y/N’s character, Ella!”
“Yes,” Sean laughs, his eyes crinkling. “It was very fun filming the scenes with Y/N, she’s like that little rush of happiness that you just wanna keep inside a jar.”
“Actually!” Lola speaks up, crossing one leg over the other as she leans forward to the interviewer. “Now that Sean’s mentioning it, Y/N really is a rush of happiness. God, everyday on set, I always think ‘I’m gonna probably have to say my lines over a thousand times and be tired by the time I’m done’ but Y/N comes right in, and she’s always making funny faces behind the director which just fills my heart with joy and it’s those little moments that make acting really worth it you know? Like even though I’m dying re filming the same scene over and over again — I know that Y/N’s always going to cheer me up by the end of it.”
“Wow,” the interviewer laughs. “I haven’t even asked you guys about Y/N yet but she seems to be very loved by the crew.”
“Oh yeah,” Sean nods. “Everyone filming loves her. I mean, how could you not?”
And the interviewer thinks the same question, because after interviewing Tom Blyth, she really believes that you really cannot not love Y/N Avocot.
Time 3: Timothee Chalamet
“Timo!” The interviewer greets Timothee excitedly, moving the chair so he could sit.
“Jacob! My favorite interviewer,” and maybe Timothee’s lying, because he’s seen about a million interviewers by now, but it makes Jacob smile, not so much hating his job anymore.
“Your new movie, Miracles in Love, can you tell me more about that?”
“Yes,” Timothee takes a deep breath. “It’s about a boy and girl in their early twenties figuring out what they wanna be in life. My character, Louie Marcel, falls inlove with my co star — Y/N’s character — Maeve Jones after they bump into each other at the bar and talk about how depressing their lives are. It’s pretty funny, y’know. How easy it was to film with Y/N, in fact, it came all naturally.” Timothee pauses, a small smile playing on his lips.
“When you say naturally, what exactly do you mean by that?”
“Oh you know Jacob,” Timothee grins. “It’s easy to fall inlove with Y/N Avocot. She’s a remarkable actress, and everything that I filmed with her feels so real that it feels like I’m really Louie and I’m really falling inlove with a girl named Maeve at the local bar near my university.”
“Oh wow,” Jacob, the interviewer, can’t help but gush at Timothee’s endearing statement. “You must be very good friends.”
“Us? Of course!” He laughs as if it was one of the funniest statements on earth. “I’m really good friends with her boyfriend too, Tom. They’re honestly the sweetest couple, don’t know if I’m inlove with him or her. Maybe both,” he jokes.
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bellyapologist oh to be yn avocot and be so loved by her cast mates that they’re smiling each time they talk about her
view all comments
user1 literally like how do you not cry when you’re being called a literal rush of happiness
user2 lola and sean being so excited to talk about her even though the interviewer didn’t start the interview yet 😭
user3 shows that yn is rly a good person
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timotheesgf YN AVOCOT LET ME BE YOU PLEASEEEE LOOK AT HOW TIMOTHEE TALKS ABT HER GOD LIFE IS NOT FAIR
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user4 “it’s easy to fall inlove with yn avocot” FUCKKKKK
user5 “everything I filmed with her feels so real” oh tom and kylie are punching the air rn
user9 she must’ve saved a planet in her past life cause..
user10 same energy as “she was like a shot of espresso” 😭😭😭😔😔😔
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aibafiles · 5 months ago
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Esperanto in Metaphor: ReFantazio
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Not long ago I saw this this tweet pointing out that the in-game language in Metaphor is Esperanto (written in another script) and I decided to investigate for myself! The vocal tracks are in Esperanto as well, but I want to focus on the text here since I don't have a great ear for it. (The quoted tweet also points out that you can rearrange the title to get an Esperanto phrase - I think it would be more accurately spelled "Metafore Fantazio," or "metaphorically fantasy"!)
For the unfamiliar, Esperanto is the world's most widely spoken constructed language, developed in the late 19th century with the aim of being an easy to learn secondary language that could act as a bridge between speakers of other languages. While its vocabulary and grammar are largely derived from various European language families, it has speakers worldwide, including a sizeable number in Japan. Given the relationship between Metaphor's world and our own, I think it's a cool choice to take a constructed secondary language and make it the in-universe primary language—not to mention the game's themes of uniting different people with a language intended to do just that.
I studied Esperanto myself for some time 9 years ago, though I've forgotten most of it, so I'm very rusty. That said, I was able to sit down and parse one particular block of text that the game provides a translation for, and use that to read the rest! I'm slowly combing through the demo and translating any legible text, and I wanted to share some of the interesting details I found. If any Esperantists see this and want to weigh in, please do! There's plenty I may not remember or be aware of.
Continued under the cut, including content from the demo:
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Let's start with the text the game translates for us! Here's what the VO/subtitles say:
O Great Seeker, bearer of fantasy empowered... Hear my wish, and come forth from thy epoch of glory to grant me thy guidance.
Here's the "deciphered" Esperanto:
Ho, granda serĉanto, kiu vivas en epoko de gloro, kiu enkarnigas la povon de fantazio. Bonvolu disdoni al li vian gvidadon.
And here's a more "direct" translation:
O Great Seeker, who lives in an epoch of glory, who embodies the power of fantasy. Please grant him thy guidance.
Not too much different of note here other than the pronoun usage—in Esperanto, the speaker explicitly uses "he," likely referring to the protagonist. I suspect that the English is actually translated from the Japanese line, which is ambiguous, so they made an educated guess here. But, since this is the same speaker who narrates awakening cutscenes and new bonds, it makes sense that they're calling to the Seeker on his behalf!
This is a point I'm unsure about, but from my understanding, "granda" (here translated as "great") typically refers to size, so it seems like an odd word choice to me—but it's possible there are connotations I'm not aware of.
After some poking around I stumbled across some text on the background of the name entry screen that reads "signaro" (character set), followed by the whole Latin alphabet on the next line.
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"But Batts!" you may say. "Esperanto doesn't use QWXY! What about the diacritics!"
Well. There aren't any! There are 6 characters with diacritic marks used in Esperanto (ĉ, ĝ, ĥ, ĵ, ŝ, and ŭ), and since our character set doesn't use any of them, we have to make some educated guesses about which one it is at any given time. This is mostly a non-issue since they're real, existing words, but it does make it a bit trickier at points, and relates to another problem I'll get to in a bit. (There are a select few instances where I've seen diacritic marks on handwritten text or shop names, but there are still far fewer than there should be.)
That said, there is also some plain English text using this script as well, so the game does make use of those extra letters, such as the Memorandum UI - scrolling books have titles like "Marine," "Royal Capital," "100 Mystery of Ningen (humans)," and "Melancholia Gen" (?), plus cute notes in the background like "I want to read slowly" and "already read very good."
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Anyway, this diacritic ambiguity bugged me for a bit when I started translating some text with "Euchronia" in it, like the above "Regno de Eŭcronio - Dezerto de Tradia." The Esperanto "C" and "Ĉ" are always pronounced "ts" and "ch" respectively, so the pronunciation here is a bit awkward either way, as both characters are meant to precede a vowel. A more natural pronunciation in line with both the Japanese and English would be "Eŭkronio," a spelling I found once in the body of the contract our protagonist signs to join the army, and never again. Alas.
I noticed a few interesting details while translating place names - the "Trad" in "Grand Trad" (Granda Tradicio) means "tradition" - and many locations are labeled on the map that I don't think are mentioned in the demo's runtime - Oceana to the west is named, but also of note are Kalendulo ("marigold," maybe "Calendula" in English) to the east, the Hulkenmont mountains surrounding that region, and the "Malnova Insularo" (old archipelago) to the south.
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(Screenshot grabbed from justonegamr on Youtube.)
Lots of fun stuff going on with these posters - the big propaganda poster says "Mi volas vin por homoj" - "I want you for humans!" The poster immediately to its right and the one with the light-haired paripus are both wanted posters with rewards of 50,000 and 7,000 respectively, and the former has a somewhat legible name - Mikelan something (?). There's also quite a bit of illegible text that I'll need to boot up the game to stare at, textures willing.
Here is where I noticed an occasional problem with the text in this game: some of these posters include words that should have diacritic marks, but instead the characters are gone entirely or replaced with a space. For instance, the poster with the face that appears twice on the bottom row reads "Ser a peto - i tiu viro" where it should say "Serĉa peto - ĉi tiu viro" (Search request - this man). I spent so long wondering what "Dan ero" meant on the poster with the red "no" sign before I realized it was meant to be "Danĝero" (Danger).
This extends to some other parts of the game, such as the world map title ("Unuiĝinta Reĝlando de Eŭcronio" written as "unui inta re lando de e cronio," which is how I knew it was a plain C oops), and the giant statue in More's study covered in archetype names, some of which are missing characters.
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I suspect that at some point in the process, these characters couldn't be properly encoded and got lost before making it into the game. Most of the UI text seems to be intact, and this only affects graphic text as far as I've seen. Luckily, we can usually use context to guess at what they should be.
There's a ton more that I'm still hunting down and translating, so if you'd like to see it, you can check out my spreadsheet here! I'm hoping to keep updating it as I play through the full game, and I may make some more posts if I encounter any particularly interesting details. A few more tidbits before I go:
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This appears to be an annual calendar - number 1 is at the top and it circles around to 12, and then the inner circle runs from 1-30, likely representing the weeks.
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Various graffiti found around Sunshade Row that reads:
Ĉi tio estis infero (this was hell)
Malbela elda (nasty/ugly elda)
Merdo (shit)
And in the words of our favorite tooth...
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Elbe venontfoje! (Maybe next time!)
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huginsmemory · 2 months ago
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Ford's Dreams; Attraction and Asexuality
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In Bill's quips in TBOB on what the characters dream about, the quip he had on Ford caught my eye: "Sixer dreams about a pop quiz that asks him "what are you attracted to?" He usually writes "I'm attracted to logic and preparation." Not sure what to call that! Plansexual?". Immediately upon reading it, it made me question the implicit meanings of that small blurb, on Ford's sexuality (as someone whose aroace) and on the potential reason why such a dream was reoccurring, which I've explored below:
Extra addition added (Jan 6 2025)!
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The first of two pages in TBOB on Bill's quips on characters dreams; this page includes Ford's, Dippers, Mabel's and Wendy's dream comments.
First of all, there are two types of quips Bill makes about the characters dreams. First, and the main type of comment, are negatively connotated, generally close to or even are nightmares. Dipper, about over hearing his parents fight about divorce, Mabel who has nightmares about waddles dying, Wendy who dreams about her Mom, who died, Stan's about Ford getting stuck in his science fair experiment, and Pacifica about the lumberjack ghost and blood that doesn't wash off her hands. Most of these are things that play off subconscious or conscious fears or grief (or memories in relation to fear or grief). The second type of quip, are goofs; such as Robbie's real hair colour, or Blubs and Durland only dreaming about each other (both on the other page, not depicted). So where does Ford's comment for in? At first glance, Ford's dream quip somewhat comes out as a goof (especially considering the horrible things he's gone through and seen). But for a central, serious character, and considering the context of the book, I really don't think this is a goof, but more of the first type of quip, on darker/nightmare sort of dreams.
But if it's is a nightmare, then why would a pop quiz about what he's attracted to be nightmare material?
First of all, regarding the set up of the dream, a quiz explicitly implies that you are being judged on your answer. There is a rubric for right or wrong answers, and someone, in a higher position of power, often in an academic institution, judges you by this. Ford is a character that's been clearly driven for the good first half of his life by excellency in academic achievement, and this implies that it's very important to him to get the quiz correct, to have the right answer, and that he fears being wrong.
Now on the subject matter of what the quiz entails; the subject of romance and attraction. Regarding canon, romance isn't one we get particularly clear images on with Ford, compared to Stan who flirts and literally goes out on a date during the series. We only really ever get two direct human interactions that could be implied to be considered romantic in nature (sorry fiddauthor's, there isn't anything from Ford's side of things that imply any extra feelings beyond cherished friend; Fiddleford in the other hand...). These are when he speaks to a girl at a dance and gets juice thrown on him, and in Journal 3 on the page that decodes on the page about himself to "LITTLE CATHY WHAT A DREAM HELD HER HAND AND MADE HER SCREAM". (There is also technically the one throw away line about Ford dating a siren in one of the Lost Legends comics, which would be the only time we know of Ford actually being in a romantic relationship; but that's something that never gets elaborated on, and when Dipper says that he's literally reading from the Bill page from Journal 3, so I'm unsure on the weight of such a statement). Compulsory heteronormativity aside as demanded by censors, both the implied attempts don't go well, and in the second one it directly implies Ford's six fingers are directly part of the reason why he's undesirable. Ford clearly deeply struggles with belonging around his 'weirdness'; case in point with the whole page about it in Journal 3. In this case, his bad luck in romance as a teen, possibly as a result of his 'wierdness', continues to alienate him from other people. As a result, a quiz focusing on romance may further remind Ford about his 'wrongness' as he doesn't have the socially expected romantic relationship.
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Stanford's author pages in journal 3. The cipher on the right page decodes to what is described in the paragraph above. Note his emphasis on feeling alienated.
However, what's perhaps more telling about it is that the quiz asks what are you attracted too?, which is more sexual than really romantic in nature. And it's telling because what Ford puts down is logic and preparation. These aren't physical attributes as one may assume to answer these questions; neither is it gendered, or even really based on a person, but rather left open as the concepts (ie, he doesn't say someone who is logical and well-prepared). This Bill even jokes about, with 'plan-sexual'. And Ford's answer is not a typical 'male' answer (in the toxic sense, but also, just generally, since people experience sexual attraction) which Bill also notes with the joke. This 'incorrect' answer could be construed as another thing that's wrong with him, especially back in the day; emphasizing again Ford's wrong-ness and alienation.
Not to mention, beyond those two instances described above (interestingly, these occur previous to Ford's falling out with Stan, in which after he highly prioritizes academic achievement) Ford shows no interest in romantic relationships. This disinterest in pursuing romance is contrary to a lot of people who are still workaholics who have significant others/hook-up on the weekend in their meager time off. Ford's general disinterest in romance is also something that others him, with how our society puts so much emphasis on romantic and sexual relationships. And this is something that IMMEDIATELY caught my eye as someone whose within the general ballpark of aroace; there is a huge amount of alienation from society when you are disinterested in sexual/romantic relationships. Especially when toxic masculinity expects you to constantly be horny. So having someone ask you that question of what you are attracted too is awkward, and depending on the audience, socially difficult question to field. And often an answer to that comes out sounding exactly like Ford's, based on personality rather than physical attributes, if you don't decide to come out (not that Ford would know queer jargon anyways). So this question, posed in a quiz, with Ford being quite Ace-coded, would bring up these feelings of alienation, along with those about failure on not having the right 'answer' regarding attractiveness and the failure of not having a girlfriend.
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The infamous Billford page in TBOB, of 'one thing led to another'. Also note Ford saying that Bill's "really got it all figured out".
Now, beyond that, we're also reading this in the context of TBOB. Even before the new info in TBOB, Ford openly worshipped Bill; and in TBOB it becomes clear that they certainly had something going on between them (cough, one thing lead to another, cough). This suggests that Ford found Bill attractive in some form of attraction, whether romantic, sexual or queer-platonic-ish. This especially so, considering the answer Ford puts down; logic and preparation. Bill, who corrected and furthered Ford's knowledge, who came to him as a being of pure knowledge (logic), and who helped him plan the portal, who ironically also had other plans of world domination beyond that (preparation). Bill fits the description, even if he's not human, but Ford's not bothered by that, Ford's a freak himself and it's clear in finding that acceptance he's ecstatic (freak4freak). And that attraction, that care Ford had/has for Bill? Now that's something that's horrifying, something that's filled with guilt, terror, and also embarrassment and fear of how others will react; case in point with Ford literally ripping those journal pages out so the others don't know about the extent of his and Bill's relationship, and in TBOB he acknowledges that. And that's not to mention the potential additives of negative emotions from failing to have attraction for the right person, from failing to meet toxic masculinity standards, and the emphasis of being a freak that made him fall for Bill. Now that's emotionally negatively charged for a fucking nightmare.
Like. Fuck. What are you attracted too? The being that I thought was a god of pure knowledge and thought that strung me along like a fish on line with bait of knowledge and companionship, and I ate that bait, hook, line, and sinker, so deep within my belly I fell in love with him; the being that betrayed me, that wants to destroy my world and used me to do it. The being I shouldn't even love in the first place, because you're supposed to love what's normal, but I've never been able to do that as a freak show. The being I've spent half my life hunting down to kill. And now here I am, with this fucking mess of my own making, after threats and torture and the world ending, and some small fucking part of me still loves him.
So, yeah. I don't think that's just a comedy line. I think that's a line that potentially has way more about Ford's feelings of alienation, of his failure to be attracted to the right person, of guilt and fear around his relationship with Bill, and especially so of others perceiving it.
EDIT (05/01/2025): Also for your consideration, as mentioned in the tags by @vespertin-y and @5p4ced-0ut, these DIRECT QUOTES BY FORD IN TBOB. ABOUT WHY ONE WOULD MAKE A DEAL WITH BILL.
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All the scenarios listed by Ford apply to himself;
You're at a desperate low? Failing to find, or prove the universal weirdness theorum; but really, truly beneath that, being basically completely alone for all the years since college, and being desperately lonely and seeking affection and acceptance.
Lost something dear to you? A bit more abstract, but Ford's alone, and he's alone because he chose to lose Stan, to seek acceptance through academic achievement. And it's his loneliness that truly drives him to Bill; not academic achievement, even if that's part of the reason. He's trying to fill that void of love and acceptance thats been there since Stan left. That's something that's dear to him that he's lost. Although it could also just be a nod to Bill's magic, in that he can use it to fulfill things.
Throes of all-consuming monomaniacal ambition? Do I need to say anything about this? Ford caused the apocalypse (partly) out of his ambition.
Now of course these all lead up to the very last one: or perhaps you're just attracted to things that hurt you? This heavily implies Ford's felt, as I outlined above, some sort of attraction to Bill.
It's also a strong thing to say about their relationship. What's interesting about this one, is that at the beginning, their relationship wasn't a painful relationship for Ford; codependent as fuck, sure, but no one was actively hurting the other. It wasn't until they began to become jealous and petty with each other when Fiddleford began working that there is resentment and emotional pain, and then there's the big reveal, and all there is of their relationship for Ford is emotional pain and betrayal. In that manner, he wasn't originally attracted to Bill because of masochism in the literal sense; but rather due to rather an attraction built on genuine connection and companionship that ultimately ended horribly.
So basically, the 'attracted to someone that hurts you', is another line that falls under the heavy implication that Ford felt some sort of attraction to Bill; and that Ford struggles with shame and guilt around his attraction to Bill, especially as the comment is actually a lie (a common abuse victim lie) that minimizes their relationship, especially from Bill's side.
But he still says the sentence. So why is he lying/believing he's telling the truth? That comes down to what he's trying to diminish, and the guilt he has around attraction. The sentence, written of course post series when Ford is deeply jaded about Bill and his relationship, is written in a deeply bitter way. And it's a very self-directedly bitter way! Of course the being I fall in love with ends up betraying and hurting me; I never can do anything correctly. By saying that 'he's attracted to pain', he implicitly within the statement blames himself for the abuse, construing it as some way inevitable that this would occur due to his 'wrong' nature, especially around attraction as evident above. This self-blame and 'inevitability' is actually common to those who have low self-esteem and are victims of abuse, which Ford is. Ford already is shown to feel guilt and shame around his attraction to Bill for various reasons, such as the failure to be attracted to the right being, and doubly so with it ending up being an abusive relationship. This self-blame of 'i'm attracted to pain' denies that Ford was seeking genuine connection, and found it in Bill; it construes Bill as always having hurt Ford. Which is untrue! But this does function as a way to suppresses Ford's possible remaining positive emotions he has around Bill (by demonizing him as something horrible, understandable as he's been trying to kill him for 30 years) and also provides Ford an illusion of power over the situation; of course I had and remained in a relationship with Bill because I enjoy pain. It's easier to say (and delude yourself you like it, and you abuser may even encourage that, to avoid the pain) then admit you don't know how to escape, or fear escaping. And I think Ford did just that.
(Also, side note: What's also a kicker is that we are creatures of habit. So relationship dynamics we grow up in, are often ones we tend re-create later in life, because those are dynamics we are comfortable in, even if they are terrible dynamics. But that doesn't mean that it will always, nor have to be recreated. In some way, Ford did this; he recreated a dynamic from his father, in always looking up to Bill, and requiring praise from him to support his self esteem.)
Also, contextually, this negative recount of Bill makes sense as it's functioning as a warning for the reader within the page; informing the reader that no matter what, Bill will hurt you if you make a deal. This embarrassment and shame about Bill is contrary to some readings, in which Ford confesses to having cared about Bill; but this page is early in TBOB! It's before the pages all the rest of the family put in; it's possible this page was added 'before' the rest of the family read TBOB and Ford comes to acceptance with his feelings around Bill.
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