#there are plenty of ways where you can write the situation into a corner that forces it to happen

[snowjanuses]

The thing about the Livia-and-Coriolanus-actually-get-married fan theory based off of that one line in the book is that I can't see Livia ever actually agreeing to marry Coriolanus. Sure, hating each other benefits Coriolanus with his weird little brain, but Livia despised him. She took every opportunity to take a dig at him in the book. There are plenty of other rich and powerful Capitol people she could have married that she didn't actively despise. I just don't see it.

[hoe4hotchner]

So what do you think about hotch and reader being neighbors, and they ended up being very close to each other, reader watches jack for him during a case, bake him some goodies, they have each other's house keys for emergencies, etc.

I was thinking about every time the team can, one of them hosts a little game night for them. And it was hotch's turn as a host. I was imagining they go to his house right after a paper work day, for some reason the team enters his house before than him, and they caught reader red handed on his wine rack choosing a bottle to take home for a night (to be fair she was searching for the cheapest one so she could buy and replace it) and she’s like “wtf do I do???”

I want to see what you can do with this 😅

A/N: This was so much fun to write!!!! I love this ❤️

Link to my inbox

After a long day at work, you stopped by Aaron's house to “borrow” a bottle of wine, planning to replace it later. You were in your favorite pajamas, feeling completely comfortable in his home as you looked through his wine rack, trying to pick the cheapest bottle.

Just as you reached for a bottle that looked suitably modest, you heard the sound of voices and footsteps. You froze, heart pounding. Peeking around the corner, you realized it wasn't just Hotch—it was his entire team. They arrived together, earlier than you expected. Hotch had mentioned the game night to you in passing, but you'd forgotten it was today. Panic rose in you as you realized you were about to be caught red-handed in your pajamas, holding one of his wine bottles. This was certainly not the first impression and meeting you’d like to give or have with his team.

Before you could make a graceful exit through the backdoor, Hotch and his team walked into the kitchen. They all stopped a few steps short of you, clearly not expecting to find you there. The sudden attention made your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

“Uh… hi?” you said awkwardly, shifting the bottle in your hands. You had never met his team before, and the situation felt more than a little awkward.

There was a beat of silence, and then Garcia, stepped forward, her eyes sparkling with curiosity and delight. Hotch had told you about everyone on the team before, but Penelope's colorful attire made you instantly recognize her. “Well, this is a pleasant surprise! You must be the neighbor Hotch is always talking about!” she exclaimed, her warm smile instantly putting you somewhat at ease. “Why don’t you join us for game night? We’d love to have you!”

You blinked, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sudden invitation. You glanced over at Hotch, hoping for some guidance, but his expression was unreadable. He stepped forward, his gaze softening as he took in your nervousness.

“It’s okay, she doesn’t have to,” he said gently as if sensing your hesitation and not wanting you to feel pressured. But there was a tone to his voice, almost like he wouldn’t mind if you stayed.

You hesitated, looking at the group of strangers who seemed so close-knit, then back at Hotch, whose presence always made you feel safe. Finally, you nodded, offering a small smile. “I guess I could stick around for a bit,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

Garcia beamed and waved you over. You reluctantly let her lead you into the living room where the rest of the team had already gathered as you made your decision. You still felt a bit out of place, especially since everyone else seemed to know each other so well, but as the night went on, the team’s friendliness started to chip away at your discomfort.

Hotch stayed close to you all night, subtly making sure you were comfortable, and before long, you were exchanging light banter with him, the ease between you two gradually returned. It was obvious to everyone that there was something more than friendship in the air with the way you interacted, though neither of you seemed fully aware of it.

The night unfolded with laughter, games, and plenty of wine. The team, though unfamiliar at first, quickly became more welcoming, especially as the alcohol loosened everyone up.

It was well past midnight, and the living room was filled with the sound of laughter, slurred words, and the occasional clink of glasses. That was when Emily, clearly more intoxicated than the rest, suddenly pointed at Hotch, her eyes half-lidded but sharp with a drunken clarity.

“Oh come on, Hotch!” she slurred, her words loud and stumbling. “Just admit it—you like her!”

Her outburst cut through the chatter, and the room fell silent, everyone turning to look at you and Hotch. You felt your heart race, your cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and something else. You glanced at Hotch, who looked equally taken aback, his usual composed expression slipping as he processed what Emily had just said.

The silence stretched for a moment too long, making the whole team burst into loud laughter, the drunken energy in the room amplified the teasing. Garcia practically doubled over, and Morgan was grinning from ear to ear as he nudged Hotch with a playful elbow.

Hotch, still caught off guard, managed a half-smile, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes as he met your gaze—a question, maybe, or a realization neither of you had fully acknowledged until now. As the night wound down, the tension from Emily’s outburst lingered, leaving you both wondering if there was more to your relationship than just being neighbors. Only time would tell.

Consider linking or reblogging if you enjoy my work.... I will kiss you on the forehead as a thanks ;)

[beomiracles]

HI SERENE :3 okay so first, love the new theme and i LOVED trocyj. it’s genuinely impressive how insufferable you made yj like u had me taking walks around my room out of frustration 😭😭

and also!! i was hoping to place a request :3 so recently i had this dream where soobin and i worked at an ice cream shop and soobin was my coworker who i was also crushing on 🤭 (not to mention the fact that he looked adorable in the pink uniform). during the dream while we were closing he literally like backed me into a corner amd was about to kiss me.. like lips barely grazing each other.. and then i woke up.

so i was hoping maybe u could reimagine it? pick up where the dream left off? and maybe make it a little spicy 😇 thanks again lovie!!

-⛸️

⌞ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 ⌝

DREAM RECALL the closing shift with your far too handsome coworker leaves an even bigger mess to clean than what you had originally started with.

wc -> 2.7k

pairings coworker!soobin x coworker!reader (afab) warnings unprotected sex + pullout method, some fingering, mutual pining kinda?, kind of perv!soobin but also perv!reader, lots of kissing, big dick soobin + size kink

#serene adds ✎ hehe thank you for liking the theme!! and trocyj omg, I could talk about that fic for days.. I see why everyone's pissed with yj but his character was genuinely so much fun to write >.< I'm also like insanely jealous of your dreams because wtf is this. lend me your mind.

I skimmed this once, let me know if I missed anything !

“Ah, no sorry, I’m afraid we’re out of chocolate..” You apologize as you watch the young girl’s face fall. She turns to her mother with a small pout and you bite your lip as you think of a way to salvage the situation. Just as you’re about to suggest the strawberry or mango flavor instead, your colleague's voice cuts you off. — “I’m sure we have some leftovers in the back”, Soobin chirps as he leans over the disk to peer down at the girl, “would you like me to go check?” Her face immediately brightens up as she nods feverishly and her mom gives him a thankful smile. 

Upon leaning back up, his large hand brushes past your lower back and you feel your breath hitch at the small touch. “Be right back”, he grins before disappearing through the door leading to the large freezer. — Despite having worked together for nearly three months now, you couldn’t help but do a double take whenever you saw that the two of you would be having the next shift together. Nor could you control the way your heart almost beat out of your chest whenever he as much as glanced in your direction. 

It was a hopeless crush that you were not planning on pursuing. Because there was no way that someone like Soobin would even consider someone like you. Not that he had ever mentioned a girlfriend or anything of the sort, or that you had even dared to ask. But you still refused to acknowledge your feelings as anything else besides a small heartthrob. 

Not before long, does he re-emerge from the small storage unit, a package of chocolate ice cream in his hands. You find your gaze lingering on his pink uniform, sleeves rolled up, exposing his forearms, and you bite the inside of your cheek as you follow their movement when he places the box down. — It isn’t until the mother goes to pay that you’re snapped back to reality, stumbling over your words as you squeak out a quiet, $2.35. 

“Here you go”, Soobin smiles as he hands the little girl her cone of ice cream. She giggles as she takes it from him, making a shy comment about him having soft hands. You refuse a small smirk, watching the tip of his ears turn pink as he chuckles. 

⸝⸝

As the last customer leaves an hour later, you walk over to flip the ‘OPEN’ sign to ‘CLOSED’. Somewhere behind you, you can hear Soobin shuffling around as he moves the ice cream from the disk by the front and into the freezer in the back. — You had shared plenty of shifts together, but this would be the first time you closed up just the two of you. Without the bustling noise of customers, the air suddenly felt twice as thick and you swallowed a small gulp before joining him behind the counter. 

Immersing yourself with popping the lid back onto the containers, you think of something to say, something to break the silence lingering between you. “Here let me help you”, he suddenly exclaims and you almost drop the three boxes in your arms, startled by his sudden appearance. If he noticed it, he didn’t make a comment on the matter, flashing you a small grin as he took two of the now sealed containers from your hands. “T-Thanks”, you stammer, trying your hardest not to let your cheeks flare up at the way his fingers brushed over yours. 

"Jesus christ pull yourself together", you mutter as you follow him into the storage room. The cool air in there was refreshing, easily washing off the heat emitting from your flustered body and you exhaled in relief. — You let him go first, watching as he places the ice cream boxes amongst the rest, gaze lingering on the way his forearms flexed as he did. He turns to you with a small grin and you blink a couple of times before springing into action as you walk over to the small corner. 

Your hands feel clammy against the container in your tight grip despite the cold temperature of the room. Thinking that he might leave and allow you a minute to yourself to regain your composure, you take your time as you lock up the small freezer in which the ice creams were kept. But there are no sounds of his retreating footsteps, and you can feel his gaze on you the whole time. 

It isn’t until you turn around that your heart practically leaps out of your chest. Soobin was standing barely three inches from you, his chest near pressing against your own and your eyes widened as they flickered up to meet his. — You knew that he was tall, like really tall, and there was no mistaking his broad shoulders either. You would be lying if you said that you hadn’t fantasized about his large hands a couple of times, not that you would ever admit it out loud, you think you would rather face death itself. 

But when this close, the back of your thighs hitting the cold steel of the freezer behind you, with nowhere to escape, you suddenly felt very small in front of him. He doesn’t say anything, biting the inside of his cheek, Soobin leans closer, so close that you could feel his warm breath hovering above your lips. — What was going on?

His gaze doesn’t stray from yours as he reaches a hand up to your face. Your eyes flutter closed at the sudden invasion of your personal space. Thinking that he might just actually kiss you, your heart almost beats out of your chest, the sound thumping in your ears like that of a heavy bass. But he doesn’t. Instead of grazing your cheek, just like you thought he would, his fingers aim for your hair as he brushes through it. Your eyes reopen, this time in slight confusion as you frown. 

“You had something…in your hair”, he murmurs before letting his hand drop to his side. “O-Oh”, you breathe, running your own fingers through your locks as embarrassment flushes over your cheeks. He takes a step back and you feel your stomach drop, beyond ashamed over your obvious overreaction to the small gesture. — You don’t dare move as you watch him head for the door once more. God he would never want to work with you ever again. 

It isn’t until one of his hands wraps around the handle that he stops. Still unmoving, you shift awkwardly by the freezer as you eye his tall frame, seeing him shake his head as he mutters something under his breath. — Then he turns around, the action so quick that you barely comprehend what’s happening until he’s in front of you again. Except this time he’s all over you, chest pressing against yours, his large hands easily covering the sides of your face as he pulls your lips to his. 

He kisses you roughly, as if he was trying to convey a thousand words with a single move. Gripping on to the freezer, your eyes widen as your mind tries to process what was happening. But he’s quick to pull back, his breathing is labored when does. — “Fuck I’m sorry I… I just”, he cuts himself off with a sharp inhale, taking a small step back as he lets go of your face. “Look I.. I don’t know what came over me I just–”

But you won’t hear any of it. Shaking your head, one of your hands snake around his neck, pulling him back down as you force your mouth onto his again. This time there’s no hesitation from either of you as his hands quickly find your waist. Pushing you further onto the cooler behind you, Soobin wastes no time in squeezing himself between your spread legs. “H-ah, been wanting to do this for so long”, he groans, and you sigh against his lips as his tongue finds yours. 

Wait. Did he just say that he’s been wanting to do this? Then that would imply… All those lingering touches, the small grins, the quick glances.. Your mind was reeling with the newfound information and your hands quickly braced themselves on his shoulders as you pulled back for a short second. — Upon breaking apart from the kiss, Soobin looks at you, a flash of worry striking his features, almost as if he had done something wrong. 

You quickly try to ease his nerves, “I…I’ve been wanting to do this too”, you quietly mumble, biting your lip as the color on your cheeks only rises. His tense face immediately relaxes as he lets out a short sigh of relief. “Oh thank god”, he murmurs, his hands gliding along your thighs as he pushes your pink uniform up. — “Wait”, your fingers around his wrists stop him and his eyes flit to yours with a hint of concern. “We can’t…I mean.. not here”, you whisper, throwing an anxious glance around the small storage room. 

“You locked the entrance, right?” He wonders, head tilted to the side as he studies you intently. Slowly nodding, you’re still not entirely convinced. “Then we’re good, yeah?” He says in a somewhat smug voice, his fingers drawing small circles on the skin between your thighs, creeping higher with each passing second. You consider his words carefully, he did have a point, there were just the two of you here right now, and it was past working hours. 

Oh who were you kidding? You’d had a crush on the guy for nearly three months now and here he was, openly asking for what you had been longing to do for so long. There was no way you’d pass him up. With a short nod you let him reconnect your lips as his fingers quickly move to glide across the already drenched fabric of your panties. You felt him smirk against your mouth as you squirmed beneath him. 

“Fuck, how long have you been this wet for me?” He asks as his hand slips inside your underwear, index and middle finger circling your throbbing clit. You bite back a small whimper as your nails dig into his broad shoulders, tearing his pink uniform under their grasp. “Three months”, you breathe, and you immediately feel his hand stutter against you. “Fuck.” Is all he says before immediately shoving two fingers inside of your aching cunt, “we’d better change that.” 

In one swift motion he wraps your legs around his waist, groaning as your hand trails down his chest to palm and grope him through his jeans. — It felt almost like a fever dream, having the guy you had fantasized about for so long right in front of you, his fingers knuckle-deep into your core as he drew lewd moans from you. 

When he pulls himself free from his pants, you gulp as you take in the size of him. Sure you had expected him to be big, given his height, but this was… He quickly catches on to your hesitation as his lips part, “if you don’t want-” — “It’s fine”, you give him a reassuring smile which he reciprocates before lining himself up, only to be stopped by you once more. 

“Do you have a condom?” 

He freezes, and it doesn’t take a genius to guess his answer. A small silence falls over the two of you, the sounds of your heavy breaths filling the storage unit. Soobin clears his throat, awkwardly readjusting the grip on his cock as his gaze avoids yours. “Maybe we should..” he trails off but you don’t need to hear the rest in order to know what he was thinking. But come on, you had waited three months for this. You couldn’t just let the opportunity slip through your fingers just like that. 

“No, it’s fine. You’ll just pull out, yeah?” 

His eyes snap up to meet yours the second those words leave your lips. “Yeah.” He agrees, his free hand wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer, the tip of his cock sliding against your folds, nudging your clit in a way that almost made you squeal. “I’ll pull out”, he mumbles, more to himself than you before slowly easing himself inside. 

The stretch was near torturous and your nails practically tore his shirt in half as you braced yourself against him. “You okay?” He sounds almost alarmed but your quick nod makes him relax. — Once fully inside of you, he stays unmoving, littering you in soft kisses, trailing from your jaw down your neck and collarbone. His fingers twist at the small lace, neatly sewed into your pink uniform. “You look so pretty in this”, he sighs against your skin, inhaling the perfume you always used, the one that always seemed to get his mind to wander whenever you were around. 

He moves slowly, his thrusts deliberate as his cock slides against every inch of you and you whine in ecstasy. The dull burn flaring within you was now replaced by an almost addicting sensation. “Fuck, you’ve really got to stop bending over the counter like that, anyone could see up your skirt”, he grunts, snapping his hips against yours, making your eyes roll back as your jaw slacks. 

“R-Really?” You stammer, though you knew exactly what you were doing as you so often would purposefully lean forward enough to where you felt your clothes lift, hoping that he would see. Originally, it had been for your own pleasure, not thinking that Soobin was actually going to pay attention to your subtle movements. But he did, he picked up on every single one of them. 

“Yeah”, he drawls, upping his pace as the hand around your waist pulls you impossibly closer. “God you don’t know how many times I’ve had to jack off in the bathroom to the thought of you.” — “Fuck, is that weird to say?” He wonders, and you shake your head, gasping as his thumb rubs against your clit. “N-Not at all”, you whine, thighs squeezing around his waist as you clenched on his cock, making his breath hitch. 

“Mhn, I.. I do too”, you shyly admit, catching the smirk that etched its way to his face in a mere second as he pressed his lips to yours. “That’s so fucking hot”, he groans into your mouth. The kiss quickly grows sloppy and wet, his thrusts transitioning into uneven and jagged jerks of his hips. — “I won’t forgive myself if I don’t have you cumming on my cock.” He states, pulling your lip between his teeth as he refocuses his attention to his fingers on your clit. 

Up until this point you had thought that this might as well all just have been one big dream. A big prank that your far too imaginative mind was trying to pull on you. But as your orgasm washes over you, your throbbing cunt clenching around Soobin’s cock, undoubtedly buried deep inside of you, you realize that this was most definitely not a dream. His name falls from your lips as your nails cause rippings to the pink fabric of his work uniform. Somewhere in the background you can hear him uttering small words of praise, the sound is muffled by the feeling of euphoria coursing through you like electric shockwaves. 

With a small hiss, he pulls out, and your hand reaches for him before you have the chance to think twice. Wanting, no needing, to feel him between your fingers, your fingers that barely manage to wrap around his cock. You pay the wicked smirk on his face no mind as you stroke him to his high, letting him soil your work attire without as much as a second thought. Hot liquid landing on both your hand and stomach as Soobin groans into the juncture of your neck. 

Once you’ve both regained your composure, he pulls back to look at you. From his dazed expression to the way his blonde hair stuck to his forehead, or his wet lips as they stretched into a grin, you found him to be more handsome than ever. — His gaze drops to your lips before flitting back up to your eyes, the tip of his ears turning pink as he clears his throat. 

“So uh, think I can get your number?”

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[leidensygdom]

Fighting AI and learning how to speak with your wallet

So, if you're a creative of any kind, chances are that you've been directly affected by the development of AI. If you aren't a creative but engage with art in any way, you may also be plenty aware of the harm caused by AI. And right now, it's more important than ever that you learn how to fight against it.

The situation is this: After a few years of stagnation on relevant stuff to invest to, AI came out. Techbros, people with far too much money trying to find the big next thing to invest in, cryptobros, all these people, flocked to it immediately. A lot of people are putting money in what they think to be the next breakthrough- And AI is, at its core, all about the money. You will get ads shoved in your fave about "invest in AI now!" in every place. You will get ads telling you to try subscription services for AI related stuff. Companies are trying to gauge how much they can depend on AI in order to fire their creatives. AI is opening the gates towards the biggest data laundering scheme there's been in ages. It is also used in order to justify taking all your personal information- Bypassing existing laws.

Many of them are currently bleeding investors' money though. Let it be through servers, through trying to buy the rights to scrape content from social media (incredibly illegal, btw), amidst many other things. A lot of the tech giants have also been investing in AI-related infrastructures (Microsoft, for example), and are desperate to justify these expenses. They're going over their budgets, they're ignoring their emissions plans (because it's very toxic to the environment), and they're trying to make ends meet to justify why they're using it. Surely, it will be worth it.

Now, here's where you can act: Speak with your wallet. They're going through a delicate moment (despite how much they try to pretend they aren't), and it's now your moment to act. A company used AI in any manner? Don't buy their products. Speak against them in social media. Make noise. It doesn't matter how small or how big. A videogame used AI voices? Don't buy the game. Try to get a refund if you did. Social media is scraping content for AI? Don't buy ads, don't buy their stupid blue checks, put adblock on, don't give them a cent. A film generated their poster with AI? Don't watch it. Don't engage with it. Your favourite creator has made AI music for their YT channel? Unsub, bring it up in social media, tell them directly WHY you aren't supporting. Your favourite browser is now integrating AI in your searches? Change browsers.

Let them know that the costs they cut through the use of AI don't justify how many customers they'd lose. Wizards of the Coast has been repeatedly trying to see how away they can get with the use of AI- It's only through consumer boycotting and massive social media noise that they've been forced to go back and hire actual artists to do that work.

The thing with AI- It doesn't benefit the consumer in any way. It's capitalism at its prime: Cut costs, no matter how much it impacts quality, no matter how inhumane it is, no matter how much it pollutes. AI searches are directly feeding you misinformation. ChatGPT is using your input to feed itself. Find a Discord server to talk with others about writing. Try starting art yourself, find other artists, join a community. If you can't, use the money you may be saving from boycotting AI shills to support a fellow creative- They need your help more than ever.

We're in a bit of a nebulous moment. Laws against AI are probably around the corner: A lot of AI companies are completely aware that they're going to crash if they're legally obliged to disclose the content they used to train their machines, because THEY KNOW it is stolen. Copyright is inherent to human created art: You don't need to even register it anywhere for it to be copyrighted. The moment YOU created it, YOU have the copyright to it. They can't just scrape social media because Meta or Twitter or whatever made a deal with OpenAI and others, because these companies DON'T own your work, they DON'T get to bypass your copyright.

And to make sure these laws get passed, it's important to keep the fight against AI. AI isn't offering you anything of use. It's just for the benefit of companies. Let it be known it isn't useful, and that people's work and livelihoods are far more important than letting tech giants save a few cents. Instead, they're trying to gauge how MUCH they can get away with. They know it goes against European GDPR laws, but they're going to try to strech what these mean and steal as much data up until clear ruling comes out.

The wonder about boycotts is that they don't even need you to do anything. In fact, it's about not doing some stuff. You don't need money to boycott- Just to be aware about where you put it. Changing habits is hard- People can't stop eating at Chick-fil-a no matter how much they use the money against the LGBTQ collective, but people NEED to learn how to do it. Now it's the perfect time to cancel a subscription, find an alternate plan to watching that one film and maybe joining a creative community yourself.

[betweenbreaths]

doctor's orders (WIP)

Fandom: Love and Deepspace

Characters: Zayne x Reader

Summary: Zayne is surprisingly obedient as a patient when it’s your turn to play doctor. 

Rating: E (M for this snippet though)

A/N: Posting this WIP first because I think it'll take me a while to write the full thing. :")

++++++

He’s terribly late. 

It’s almost midnight now, almost 12 hours past the time he was supposed to have you over at his place for lunch and a home movie date. He had already prepared everything perfectly, from the food, to the table setting, to the extra blankets on the couch (only because you liked to snuggle). And then you had arrived right on time, and everything was going perfectly.

That is, until his work phone rang and he received an alert that one of his patients had to undergo surgery immediately. 

You hadn’t looked fazed when he filled you in on the situation; after all, it was hardly the first time he had been whisked away from a date for unexpected work emergencies. You had told him before that you didn’t mind; saving lives came first and you’d have done the same if you were notified of wanderers in the area.

So he’d left promptly, promising to be back as soon as he could.

And now, twelve hours later, he has finally returned to the front door of his apartment, with a bouquet of flowers he’d picked up along the way as an apology. Zayne had texted you earlier to ask if you had already left, and you’d said that you would stay and wait for him, and that there was no hurry. 

He sees your shoes still neatly placed outside, and yet another pang of guilt hits him. He just hopes you’re not too upset. He’ll have to make it up to you somehow. 

As Zayne opens the door and steps in, he calls your name. 

Silence. No response. 

That… must be a bad sign. Either that, or you fell asleep somewhere. Certainly not in the living room, because there’s no trace of you other than the crumpled blankets and the remote control tossed to the corner of the couch. 

He shrugs off his coat, leaving it on one of the chairs by the dining table and peers around, wondering where you’d gone. Instinctively he heads straight towards his bedroom — you might be taking a nap there.

He knocks lightly on the closed door before opening it carefully, slowly, in case he wakes you. Then he hears you call his name. The tone in your voice isn’t one of anger or disappointment. 

In fact, it’s the opposite. You sound… mischievous, playful. Even a little naughty. 

Almost like you’d planned something completely unexpected for him, and you’d been waiting for him to come in, like a predator waiting for prey to fall into its trap. 

And when he steps in, Zayne all but forgets to breathe.

++++++

Leaving you alone in his apartment for twelve hours had left you with plenty of time to devise a surprise for your boyfriend. Your spark of inspiration came when you decided you’d do the poor man a favour and sort out his laundry for him since he can’t even afford the time to eat the lunch he’d so painstakingly prepared for that afternoon. 

And when you came across the freshly washed spare doctor’s coat in the pile of clean clothes, you were immediately drawn to it like a moth to a flame. You ran your fingers over the thick, wrinkled fabric, a smile playing on your lips when you think about how far he’s come in his career.

And when you put it on, the scent of detergent and warmth enveloping you, an idea so brilliant, so devious, popped into your head. 

After all, you’d already come over to his home already prepared with a new set of black lacy lingerie for him to tear off of you, and this coat would go perfectly with it. 

The look on Zayne’s face when he steps into his bedroom and his eyes fall on you is absolutely delightful. You see a myriad of emotions flicker in his eyes: confusion, surprise, bewilderment…

And then his gaze becomes hungry. Sinful. Heat pools in your centre as his gaze falls on your body, examining every single inch of you. You can already tell from his dilated pupils that in his mind, he’s ravaging you, kissing you senseless and tasting every drop of you, and god you can already anticipate how rough he’s going to be with you when you let him have his way. 

But first, you’re going to have some fun with this.

Zayne approaches the bed, each footstep almost echoing in your ears and mirroring your accelerating heartbeat and you prop yourself up on your elbows, clicking your tongue and shaking your head at the man. 

“You’re late for your appointment, Zayne. I’m almost off my shift now.” 

“I apologise. I was held up at work because of an emergency.” 

“I wish you would prioritise your health the way you do with your work.” 

Your lips curl into a knowing smile, and so does his, although his smile looks a little more defeated. 

“Using my words against me now?” 

“Maybe. But I don’t have time for small talk. I’m supposed to have a date with my boyfriend and he’s waiting for me at home, so let’s make this quick.” 

Zayne cocks an eyebrow but says nothing as you sit up and tap the empty spot next to you on the bed. 

“Lie down. We need to do a routine examination.” 

Surprisingly, Zayne does as he’s told without protest. You feel the bed dip with his weight when he sits down, and you swallow nervously when he stares at you up close, eyes darting down towards your lips and raking down your figure. His gaze is smouldering and you feel your cheeks warm as the corner of his lips turn up.��

“Like what you see?” you can’t resist the urge to ask. 

“It would be more appropriate to ask your boyfriend that, Doctor.” 

Right, right. 

You clear your throat, trying to get back into the roleplay. With Zayne now lying comfortably on the bed, you scooch over, placing your hand over his chest. 

“Checking for my pulse? Where’s your stethoscope?” 

You roll your eyes at him. “I don’t need one to know that your heart is racing right now. Do you feel uncomfortable? Any chest pains?” 

“Yes, it does hurt a little.” 

“Where?” You experimentally press on his left pec. “Here?” You shift your hand downward slightly. “Or here?” 

“No.” Zayne grabs your wrist then, and without warning, pulls you down with a hard tug. You lose your balance, falling straight towards him and you barely manage to stop yourself from giving him a headbutt when your left hand plants itself into the mattress right by his face. 

In this position, you’re now mere inches away from his lips, and his piercing gaze doesn’t leave your eyes as he re-positions your right hand on his chest. 

“Here.” You feel his strong heartbeat beneath your fingers, and the warmth of his breath fanning across your face. Just a little closer and you’ll be able to taste his lips and lose yourself in his passionate, fiery kisses. 

He’s clearly thinking the same thing as you, eyes falling to your parted lips. He sucks in a sharp breath when your tongue wets your lips — a habit of yours when you’re nervous. And then you feel his free hand come up to rest on the nape of your neck to pull you in, closer and closer to him. 

It’d be so tempting to just give up now, to let him have his way with you and to get that quality time and intimacy you’ve been craving all day now. In fact, you’ve been waiting a whole week for this, because lately Zayne has been too busy and today was the only day you could squeeze in a precious date with him. 

But that’s also the reason why you want to enjoy this to the fullest. After all, it’s not often that Zayne is so indulgent with you in bed. 

At the last second, you regain your senses and place your right hand over his mouth, putting an unceremonious halt to his attempt to kiss you. His lips graze the surface of your palm and that’s enough to make goosebumps rise on your arms. 

“If your chest hurts, let’s take a closer look, shall we? I’ll need you to take your shirt off.”

[seoulmatez]

୨♡୧ YOU SHINE LIKE STARLIGHT— dan heng x reader. sfw. fluff.

note! this is my first time writing for the fandom + dan heng so pls be kind! enjoy ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

dan heng's limbs feel heavy when he boards the train. he offers himkeo and mr. yang a short nod before making his way to the passenger cabin. his body is practically screaming for him to get some much-needed rest but there are a few things he wants to review in the data bank before he does so.

the door to the archive room opens with a quiet whoosh. dan heng sheds himself of the armor on his shoulder and leans his spear in the corner while he slips out of his shoes. he inhales a breath of air through a yawn, tears forming in the corners of his eyes as he walks up the two steps to get to the computer.

"hey." the unexpected sound of a voice makes dan heng's shoulders jerk up in surprise. he whips his head in the direction of it to find you situated on the floor with a book in your hand. but you aren't just in just any spot on the floor—you've gotten comfortable in his makeshift bed. "how'd it go?"

he doesn't think it should, but the sight makes his mouth go dry. for a moment, all the man can do is stare with parted lips. you've been in and out of here plenty before but he can't say he's ever seen you so snug—not in the desk chair and never under his blanket. dan heng isn't sure why the view makes his palms sweaty and his cheeks warm.

he clears his throat and continues on his path to the desk, answering your question with one of his own. "what are you doing here?"

"reading." you gently wave your book in the air to emphasize your statement. "you said i could stop by whenever."

he did tell you that and he meant it but dan heng never expected that the invitation would have extended to his sleeping quarters. he doesn't bother elaborating on the context of "here" in his query, only nods and taps away at the keyboard in front of him in a poor attempt to stop thinking about how cute you look in his bed and the strange way it makes him feel.

a beat of silence passes before you speak up again. "you dodged my question."

lithe fingers dancing along keys still for a split second with your statement. dan heng hums as he continues with his search. he should have known you wouldn't let that slip; for as long as you've been on the express you've been perceptive. it's an admiral trait, he thinks, although, during moments such as these, your keen eye seems to be working against him.

"you didn't run into too much trouble, right? no injuries or anything?" you ask.

there's a heavy thump against dan heng's chest that follows your voiced concerns for him. he's still getting used to that—someone asking about him, worrying about him. it's foreign, the care you seem hellbent on showing him, but he'd be lying to himself if he said it didn't make him feel warm inside. still, dan heng hasn't found an effective way to express his gratitude quite yet. "you really consider little of me if you think i walked away with anything more than a scratch."

you close your book with a cheery laugh that drifts through the air and kisses dan heng's ears. the sound is light and sweet and one the man doesn't hear nearly as often as he'd like. even now, you're readying to leave.

he turns in his chair to watch your rise from his mat and stretch your arms above your head. you meet his sparkling blue eyes as you do so, offering him a sleepy smile. "well, make sure you get a bandaid on that scratch."

dan heng can't help the quiet huff of air that comes from his nose at your words. he appreciates that too, the way you entertain his dry humor.

"and maybe think about sleeping in an actual bed tonight instead of on the floor." you gesture to his setup as you comb the bookshelves for the empty spot where you pulled the leather-bound journal from. the next part of your sentence comes while you carefully return the book to its rightful place. "your muscles will thank you."

the door to the archive room slides open with your prompting. before you take your leave, you turn back to the man and raise your hand in a wave. "good night and sweet dreams."

the room is blanketed in silence after your departure. dan heng's mind wanders back to you and your presence as he wraps up his research. the cabin felt much more lively and far less cold with you in it. tranquility has never bothered him but he's slowly beginning to learn that he prefers the illumination that radiates from you. he'd choose that over the stillness any day.

less than an hour passes before the fatigue catches up with dan heng. as he stands from his chair, he glances at his mat on the floor. he hasn't considered touching the room set aside for him since he boarded the express but, at your suggestion, he just might.

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎

[mania-sama]

Dear Kaeya, signed Diluc Ragnvindr

Final Duet - Omori

➼ information ❧ Genshin Impact ❧ Pairing: Diluc & Kaeya, Beidou & Diluc ❧ Tags: angst, implied/referenced torture, the crux fleet, letter-writing, second person ❧ Summary: A collection of the letters Diluc Ragnvindr sent to Kaeya Alberich during his three-year-long disappearance. They are scattered around the corners of Teyvat, either digested by an animal or hidden behind a painting in an apartment. If anyone can find them, please return them to the Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius. You will be graciously rewarded. ❧ Word Count: 4,317 ❧ Cross-posted from Archive of Our Own ❧ Original post date: 27 May 2022

Author Note:

Inspired by this tiktok

-

Dear Kaeya,

    This will never reach you. I assume it will be consumed by a whale or any other sea creature of sorts. I hope it’s not a catchable fish that people eat; then it might actually resurface. Whatever, it’s unlikely to get back to you anyway.

    I don’t know what to say. I’m going to run out of ink if I keep letting it go dry on my quill from hesitation. You would laugh and say that’s unlike me to hesitate. It is. I didn’t hesitate when I left the Knights of Favonius, I didn’t hesitate to attack you, I didn’t hesitate to leave Mondstadt. Why is it so hard for me to write what I mean, then? It doesn’t make sense. You would probably give me some bullshit answer for it.

    I don’t understand. Why did you have to hide it, for so long? I hate not knowing. You blindsided me, Kaeya. I thought you were all that I had left of my family, and then you told me even that wasn’t true. I don’t care that you were sent to be some spy. I care that you lied to me, just like everyone else did. Why did you have to be like everyone else?

    Whatever. It’s not like you can answer anyway. This was a horrible idea. I’m nowhere near done with my ink. I have plenty of paper left, it would be a waste to not use it all. Remember that one woman we talked to a few weeks ago? She always wrote down everything. She said it made her feel better. I don’t think this is making me feel better. I think it’s making me feel, and that’s worse than pretending like the pain doesn’t exist.

    I wonder if Father knew about your eye. Did you ever tell him? Or would you lie to me about that, too? It hurts. It makes me so angry, Kaeya. Did you even care? He treated you like a son, and I to you a brother. You always reciprocated. How much of it was a lie? How did you grow up to be such a shitty spy when it was your own purpose in our household? I don’t know what you’re doing now. I don’t know how I feel about it, which is worse. Your blood on my hands. Your Vision, it gave me frostbite, and it caused me to not feel your blood anymore.

    Good-bye, for now. I have plenty of paper and plenty of bottles. People are careless and leave their destruction everywhere. I suspect I will live just fine on my own. It would be more convenient, I guess, if I had my Vision to light a fire. Father’s Delusion does the same job. It just hurts my hands. It’s the strangest feeling. Pyro never hurt me. Does your Cryo? I’m sure it hurt when you received it.

    Good-bye,

        Diluc Ragnvindr

—

Dear Kaeya,

    I burned the last paper I tried to write this on with the Delusion by accident.  It’s hard to control this thing. It’s my legacy, though. It replaces where my Vision should be, even though it doesn’t feel the exact same. I can feel the tug of my Vision sometimes, especially when I’m using Father’s Delusion. You never saw it, the way he manipulated the Delusion. It was like an art form, but he pushed himself too far. He didn’t get to use it enough. I will not be like him. I will hone this weapon if it is the last thing I do in this world, which I assure you, it won’t be.

    It’s not the Fatui I’m after. Well, part of it is them, yes. It can’t all be them, though. There is more to this situation than meets the eye. It was crazed, vicious more than any creature could possibly be. It was sent to Mondstadt, I’m sure. If it weren’t for Father, many people would have died. The Knights wouldn’t have been able to handle it.

    I don’t miss being Cavalry Captain. Looking back on it, it only held me back. I imagine you have taken my position, if you still stayed in the Knights. You probably did. What, to spite me? You will only hinder yourself, in that case. Unless you plan on making the Ordo keep you more honest. I can’t imagine they’d let you stay if they knew the truth.

    Kill Eroch for me. I can’t think of anything else to say. Just kill him. If I see him, I’ll do it myself.

    Diluc R.

—

Kaeya

    I can’t stop thinking about your eyes. The golden one, and the blue one. No, not the left eye. Your new, blue Vision, the eye of God. It doesn’t match your traitor eye at all. It makes sense. Do you have my eye? Do you look at it, to see if I’m okay? It must’ve scared you to see it go pretty dull for a moment. I hope you tried to destroy my Vision. It would make me feel less guilty. What was the point? I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten.

Diluc 

—

Dear Kaeya,

    I burnt all of my paper by accident. I had to stop and get new ones, and then ink and a pen. It’s strange in Liyue. I mean, we’ve been before, but it’s different this time. I have a new outlook on it. I’m alone and searching for something that’s both abstract and very real at the same time. I have not forgotten the language, thankfully. I can keep conversation well while simultaneously leading myself on with my search.

    The locals make me a little angry. My temper seems to worsen these days, which doesn’t appeal to many people. When I reveal that I’m from Mondstadt, I’ve had more than a few locals go on to tell me about how they disapprove of the Anemo Archon’s decision, about how we are a godless nation. I find the irony in it unamussing when I relate it back to you. It’s also fairly unamussing in general. Despite having left, I still love Mondstadt. After hearing it for the third time, I may have engaged in an argument with a man about Mondstadt’s freedom and Liyue Harbor’s strict rules. If it were not for the fact that I had a Delusion and still struggle to summon its power, I’m sure the other man would’ve had scorch marks over his body.

    The food here tastes very good. I’ve never been a man to like foreign foods very much, but everything seems different in the flesh of it all. I just have to find the right place, and it really ends up not being too much different than home. No matter my foreign looks, accent, and such, I am still served in the same manners any other local would be. I’ve noticed the water tastes differently as well. Different sources wield different tastes. I became used to the water in Mond, but in Liyue, it is so much different. I can’t say I like it, but I don’t intend to stay for much longer. I suspect I’ll be back, but that is just to move from one place to another. The Harbor is like a hub of activity for all foreign nations. I can easily catch a boat from here to there.

    The history here is rich. That never bored you, did it? It was your favorite lesson. Aside from insulting Mond, the history of Liyue is one of the most favored topics. I believe I can learn a lot from the Harbor, from business to the creation of the world. I don’t have time for this right now, but one day, I’d like to be able to sit and embrace all of it. Discuss the cultural wines with the brewers, the history of the Adepti that protect the lands, and the business to contract marketplace that the Harbor runs on. Favors, it seems, that just happen to coincide with contracts, are what make the normal citizens trust each other. The crime rate is lower here, also. It’s something that was brought up in the Mondstadt versus Liyue debate. Personally, the stricter rules make the city feel tightened, like I can’t move.

    The music here is very different from Mondstadt’s. It’s not better or worse– just different. Their style of singing is more in the grandeur type, with an elevated stage with the paying people below it. Operas and concerts. They feel less personal, and the singing flows like a river. It’s extravagant, obviously well-tuned with a number of background instrumental musicians playing to support the main singer or musician. It is similar to the bards by what the music is about. They tell stories of their Adepti. While there are other people who do something similar, just not in the singing way. Story-tellers, very simply. Personally, if I wanted to hear a story, I would want to hear the whole thing in one sitting and not have to wait for a few days for the story-teller to tell the next part of the story.

    It’s amazing what I never knew about Liyue Harbor. I used to think I knew so much. Cavalry Captain at fifteen, Vision at eleven. I thought I knew the world. Liyue reminds me of how much I really don’t know. You need to come to Liyue Harbor sometime, and see it the way I do. I think you could benefit from the experience. Their Archon is much closer, they even speak to him once a year. Rex Lapis, they call him. You would have many questions for him, I have no doubt.

    Sincerely,

        Diluc Ragnvindr

—

Dear Kaeya,

    I’ve been on a ship before, but this is something entirely new. The Crux, an armed fleet of all-but-in-name pirates, possibly the most infamous fleet in all of Teyvat, is nothing like I expected it to be. It is well-maintained, and I do not doubt their prowess on the seas they rule over. They are just much different than I imagined.

    Talking can get you far, and skipping over unnecessary dialogue, I’ve learned, can get you even further. Saying the right things to the right people without any fluff in-between is how I was able to get on this ship, free of charge outside of the labor I must perform during the journey from Liyue to Inazuma. It’s truly amazing, Kaeya. The crew is very welcoming, if not eccentric in their ways. Typical of pirates, they drink to their heart's content, more than I’ve seen any drunkard in Mondstadt. Insane alcohol tolerances and were more than a little upset when I wouldn’t have my fair share.

    I believe the captain of this crew is what surprised me the most. She wears an eyepatch like you. Except, her story is completely different than yours. She claims she had a vicious battle with a very angry, very large sea crab that tried to take something she had actually stolen– she didn’t word it as stolen, but that was what she did– from the Tianquan Ningguang. I’m not inclined to believe any of what she’s said, even after the kindness she’s shown me. I have you and Eroch to thank for that.

    I don’t mean to be bitter. It’s just so easy. This dark sea is making me think about the winery, and with it all the reasons I’m aboard this ship in the first place. Inazuma is a few days away. I don’t know how long I can sit with these brooding thoughts, stewing in my own mixed emotions. All I can feel is anger most of the time, until I sit down to write. Then, my hand doesn’t want to move, and I’m left to think about what I’m really feeling.

    I don’t know what I want to say to you. Who is in the wrong for what happened that night? You hurt me a lot with what you said, and the day you chose to do it. I needed you.

—

Dear Kaeya,

    Captain Beidou introduced me to something called “depression.” It can be caused by the loneliness of the sea. She says that staying on ships for too long causes accidents to happen to crewmates. Or rather, they let the accidents happen. They want to feel something outside of the dark sea. The ship can get too quiet, even for its rowdiness. People don’t see their families on the land often.

    I don’t buy it, but she forced me to participate in activities to prevent this depression from sinking in. I had to take pictures, do these very strange exercises that I can safely say I never want to do again. I painted for the first time as well. I don’t know where she managed to get the much paint from. There is another significant figure on the ship as well, named Kazuha. He led poetry lessons. I’ve never been a fan of poetry.

    Captain Beidou has an Electro Vision, and he has an Anemo Vision. Though, that’s not all he has. He has something called a Masterless Vision, which can only be created when the owner of a Vision has passed on. He holds two Visions, a strange phenomenon. If I had kept my Vision, would it hold the same effect if I also kept my Delusion? I can use both, separately. I have never tried at the same time. After all of my time in Mondstadt and Liyue, I still know fairly little about Delusions. What I do know is enough to keep me from dying.

    The crew has told me an answer to my question that keeps resurfacing whenever I look into the ocean. I didn’t ask them, I just observed and learned from the way they interact. Who is in the wrong for that night? Neither of us, or both of us. You shouldn’t have betrayed and lied to me. I shouldn’t have tried to kill you and abandon you. I don’t know what I would say to you if I could see you now. My hand wants to write something, but my brain won’t supply anything. What is there to say, except admit our wrongdoings? Are you searching for the truth, too?

    Good night,

        Diluc R.

—

Dear Kaeya,

    Inazuma is stifling. It’s beautiful, I can’t deny that. From the shapes of the clouds to the subtle purple tint to the land, everything appears to be quite breath-taking. That is where the excitement ends.

    The Omnipresent God, they call the Raiden Shogun. This nation is the opposite of Liyue Harbor. The air is static, the government is imposing, and I always feel like there is someone watching me. I hide in the shadows. I shouldn’t be anywhere outside of Ritou, anyway, yet I’ve managed to make it to Inazuma City. This may be a mistake on my part, but I think I can get somewhere with this. I have already been able to steal a fair share of Inazuman clothing, so I can get around the city just fine as long as I stay out of the way. It is better if I am not seen regardless.

I have a few days until the Crux leaves again, this time to Snezhnaya, the land of the land of the Fatui. I have seen a few diplomats here, because they are able to pass by the Sakoku Decree, which we both knew about prior. They are still not well-liked by the citizens, but that is a given. None of the locals seem to like foreigners at all.

Inazuma, the Land of Eternity. The name makes Inazuma sound almighty, powerful, above-all. You and I bought into it. Inside the city, it makes the preconceived notion laughable. Kaeya, the nation is in shambles. The marketplace has monopolies scattered for every item, the prices extremely high that causes everyone outside of the military officials– one of the three commissions in the Tri- Commission– to starve. They are hostile to anyone that isn’t like them. They don’t like anyone who points out just how horrible the situation is.

There is a permanent storm in Inazuma. It started when the Crux reached the edge of the ocean that belongs to Inazuma. It fits the Electro Archon. The lightning cackled constantly in the sky, and it never stopped raining. In the little bits of privacy I could have on the Crux, I used my Delusion to dry myself off. It never did much, and it was of little comfort, but it helped hone my abilities with the Delusion. I have more control, and it doesn’t hurt anymore. It only hurts when I overextend and lose the tight fist I have on it.

In regards to my search, I have not faltered. I think I have something with these three Fatui Diplomats that like to talk just a little too much. I haven’t been discovered yet. I hear the talk of the Harbingers, officers of the Fatui with absolute control and mad power. Better than that, I have heard that there is a group of people causing Fatui great amounts of trouble.

The Crux leaves in a day for the next nation, Snezhnaya. That is where I need to go. Kaeya, my Pyro Vision left me resistant to the cold. I wonder if my Delusion can hold up the same.

Sincerely,

    Diluc Ragnvindr

—

K

    Captain Beidou, very irritatingly, has found out about my letters to you and insists that she carry one out to the person I am writing to. She says the bottles won’t work, and I told her that that was the whole point. Under the very real threat that I get thrown overboard, I am being forced to write out this letter specifically for her to deliver.

    Didn’t I mention how little privacy this ship has? A very imposing figure is standing over my shoulder as I write this. She gasped just now. And smeared ink all over the paper. Please, send your best regards to Captain Beidou.

    As I said, I am leaving for Snezhnaya. I don’t remember being overly fond of their food, but I said that about Liyue Harbor, and I felt the same about Inazuman delicacies. I am noticing a pattern. I can’t continue doing this.

        Diluc R.

—

Dear Kaeya,

    There are many things to regret over the extent of my life. I regret not being strong enough to protect Father, I regret having never learned the truth about you earlier on in life, and I regret trying to kill you. I regret that I gave you a Vision, because that meant I became a truly wicked person. Finally, I regret my last letter to you, and this one as well. I didn’t get to say what I wanted then, for such foolish reasons. Now, I still can’t say what I want.

    Unforeseen circumstances have arisen. There isn’t much I can explain, even though I know this bottle will lead nowhere special to anyone at any time. I wish I could say more, that I can tell you more. This is my last letter to you, Kaeya, until I am released from my chosen binds. This will never reach you, which is why I feel the confidence to say this:

    I am sorry, Kaeya.

        Diluc Ragnvindr

—

To Cavalry Captain Kaeya Alberich of the Ordo Favonius,

I am coming home.

D.R.

—

A crumpled piece of paper was hidden in a slot behind one of the many paintings Kaeya Alberich had in his apartment in inner city of Mondstadt. Every few days, if you looked into the darkened windows of the apartment, you could see the esteemed Cavalry Captain unhook a painting of an old prize horse of the Dawn Winery years ago from the wall. Carefully, he would undo the back of the painting, pulling out a piece of paper that had survived several years of abuse from its current owner.

Then, the Cavalry Captain would move to his kitchen table and sit down in one of the six seats available. He would smooth out the paper on the table and place his hand on top of it for several seconds. Eventually, he would lift his hand and read the contents written on the piece. The words were hardly visible after the years it had seen and the conditions it was written under. But if you were to ask Captain Kaeya himself, he would say that the eligibility didn’t matter; he’d memorized the words a long time ago.

After only a few moments of reading, the captain’s shoulders would start to shake. A hand would come up to support his forehead, and another hand would move the paper out from under him. It was done to protect the precious paper from being stained by Kaeya’s tears.

If you were to ask the captain about the contents of the paper, he would not give the real answer. He would make up a fictitious lie supported by the supposed backstory of his eyepatch, laced in old pirate tales and hidden treasures. If you were to read the paper yourself, you would find an innocent letter addressed to nobody in particular, detailing a person passive-aggressively being forced to write the words on the paper by their superior. It was signed, “Diluc R.”

The real story behind the letter couldn’t be brought from Kaeya’s mouth. If you wanted the truth, you would have to trek to Liyue Harbor and find the Captain of the Crux Fleet: Captain Beidou. She would have no qualms telling the story behind the letter, even finding the situation to be quite humorous despite the way Captain Kaeya had always reacted.

She would say: “Well, it all started when a young man with a bright, red mane like flames climbed on my ship. We were Inazuma-bound, but this didn’t phase him. The kid had guts– Hell, he probably still does. He was pretty skeptical and had a temper wilder than any hurricane I’ve ever braved, but that only made him an easier target for the crew and I. Oh, the teasing!

“I knew he was writing the letters long before I told him. Nothing escapes me on my fleet! Ha ha! I remember how embarrassed he was when I told him! I forced him to write out a letter, but of course it wasn’t as serious as it normally was. Left out the name it was addressed to and everything! Claimed I would never be able to deliver it to the right person! So of course I took the challenge. I had him package it up in an old wine bottle like he usually did, then once I dropped him off in Snezhnaya, the crew and I made a detour to good ole’ Mondstadt.

“You see, it wasn’t hard to track down who the letter was addressed to. Everyone was up in arms over the fact that their famous Diluc, having just disappeared from Mond, had been with the Crux Fleet! I did my best to hide any details of his true whereabouts or what he had been doing with me, because I would never betray one of my own, even for someone who lived as shortly with me as he did.

“From there, I got the letter address down to two people of interest, Sir Kaeya and Master Jean, both of the Ordo Favonius. Thanks to my great memory, I recalled the kid scratching out the letter K when he was writing the personal address. So I delivered the letter in the bottle dutifully! Sir Kaeya wasn’t as happy as I was. He actually took the letter with poorly hidden sorrow and guilt. I wanted to stay around for his reaction, but I know where lines shouldn’t be crossed. After having a few drinks at the famous Angel’s Share and meeting with Master Jean, my crew and I returned on our route. There is your story about the little letter a fiery kid on my ship wrote to a few years ago!

“To be fair, I thought they were love letters at first. The angry, no-nonsense Diluc having a little crush back at home? Hilarious! It’s weird to think that now, though, since I know they were brothers and all that. I wonder if those other bottles had ever gotten to Sir Kaeya?”

None of the bottles had been recovered by Captain Kaeya, nor were any found and returned to him. He had never stopped searching the beach for the supppsed other bottles mentioned by both Captain Beidou and the letter itself. He can still be found wandering the shorelines of Mondstadt during his free time, pants rolled up and wading into the water to try and find at least one bottle. This learned behavior never left him, even after Master Diluc of the Dawn Winery returned to Mondstadt.

If you were to ask Master Diluc about the letters he wrote to Captain Kaeya, he would deny having ever done anything. It became well-known in Mondstadt that the two men didn’t get along upon the wine master’s return, but it can’t help but be wondered: if they were both made aware of the others’ viewpoint of the letters, the receiver and the writer, would something change between them? The question would forever be left unanswered, for the two could never be seen talking in any manner other than impolite jabs and heartless arguments.

Somewhere, in the very corner of Teyvat where the gods can’t cast their judging eyes, a bottle washes up to the shore. A man picks it up, pale with blue eyes mimicking the stars and hair ashy blond. He runs his hands over the bottle and examines it carefully before popping the cork that had sealed it shut. He pulls out the letter inside, reads it, and smiles. He pockets it gently, a new destination and person in mind for him to travel to: Cavalry Captain Kaeya Alberich of the Ordo Favonius.

[physalian]

On Tragic Backstories (or, giving your character “one bad night”)

There’s a video essay out there by music nerd, Sideways, about how superhero theme music works, and most of the video is about how and why the original Superman theme song sounds the way it does. He then compares it to Batman’s theme song (the Danny Eflman one) and says that Batman’s theme breaks all the established rules of American superheroes.

Where the likes of Superman are heavy on the horns and brass, the “sound of America”, Batman’s theme is warped, jaded, and dangerous, almost as if it was Superman’s theme, if Supe’s theme had “one bad night”.

I mentioned in another post about giving characters agency in their backstories helps a lot in showing the audience who they really are when they’re put in a corner.

Baby Bats didn’t have much of a choice the night his parents got murdered, though he blames himself plenty.

What I mean, though, is situations where your character is unambiguously the person at fault for where they are today, as either the hero or the villain.

So I’m gonna spoil myself here and talk about my deuteragonist in Eternal Night: Dorian.

I’ve already said that he’s based on another OC of mine (about to make his debut in Little Red Dot on AO3!) but in many ways they are very different. They come from different social classes, different family makeups, different motives for why they do what they do, and different relationships with the protagonist and their love interests.

If you ever read both, you’ll see what traits they share.

Dorian’s backstory takes a while to deliver in ENNS, more than half the book. He drops hints here and there, like his actual age, that he’s not of noble birth, and a little bit about his family from when he was mortal.

Other characters also spill a little through their own biases sprinkled through the chapters so by the time Dorian has the chance to monologue his backstory to Elias, the protagonist, it’s an exposition dump you should be hungry for as the reader.

Personally, I think expository monologues are something I’m amazing at, so I won’t spoil the full experience.

What’s important for this post is that Dorian’s backstory is defined by three choices he had to make:

Why he left home

Why he became a vampire

Why he joined the ‘good guy’ coven

Dorian didn’t have much of a choice for leaving home—vampires were not going to take no for an answer—but he had control over who those vampires were abducting. He made sure they only took him. Who he is as a person and what he stands for is concentrated in that one choice: He is a self-sacrificial character who will do anything to save those he loves.

Why he turned defines another aspect of his character: He has unwavering conviction in his beliefs and will do anything to see them through, even if that means he doesn’t survive the process.

And why did he join the good guys? He represents that ‘vampire’ isn’t synonymous with ‘monster’. Or, in other words, “It’s not what you are, it’s what you do that defines you” and at his core, he is kindness.

Dorian’s backstory would have been a lot different if I’d written him as somebody kidnapped in the dead of night, turned by force, and run from his old coven for being too noble.

Still tragic, absolutely, and I’m not hating on characters who are tragic in their passivity and inability to take action in their lives. Not every character can save themselves, or damn themselves.

I love writing characters who did not expect to have to live with the consequences of their actions and Dorian, and his foundational character, pretty much say those exact words in both their books.

Good consequences or bad, one single choice either from necessity, selfishness, desire, impatience, or the best of intentions, can have a cascading effect on a story that tends to read as more realistic than everything going according to plan.

If I’d written Dorian’s backstory as “I surrendered to this evil coven already plotting how I’d take my revenge and become the vampire I am today, and it all worked flawlessly” I don’t think it would make him as sympathetic.

Not to say I hate plotters, either, he’s just not a plotter. Another character in that same book, Gregori, did pretty much exactly that for his own backstory.

But “I surrendered to this coven and had no idea what I signed up for, then saw an opportunity and jumped on it and could not take that choice back” is fitting of who he is as a person. He was someone too soft and simple for this political world he found himself in, who had to adapt or die.

You can cover a lot of ground, particularly in dreaded “exposition monologues” without throwing it into your audience’s faces that you’re “telling” a bunch of information. I didn’t need Dorian to say “these are the three tentpole traits of my character”.

But I do think that if you give characters that kind of agency, you’re giving them the chance to prove who they are when no one’s looking. For Dorian, who had no guarantee his plan would work or that he’d survive its execution, who he was when no one was looking is a man who’d give his all to keep a promise.

—

If you’d like to check out Dorian’s story, check out Eternal Night of the Northern Sky below.

And if you’d like to see the foundational characters that were the basis of my entire writing journey, check out Little Red Dot.

[only-lonely-stars]

The Best Gossip on the Planet!

Oneshot – (FFN) (AO3)

Summary:

Cat Grant had it! The best scoop she'd ever gotten, right on the roof of The Daily Planet! Or, Superman and Lois aren't the most careful when it comes to who sees them. One thing leads to another, and to another, and to an article in The Daily Planet.

This fic is inspired by artwork by @tsbdhdndj! Thanks for letting me write based on it! <3

It was undeniable! Simply preposterous to even begin to dispute this truth! This would be the story which made the fabulous Cat Grant a star journalist! 

The story began that morning, when Cat heard one of her coworkers cry out that Superman had flown up to their building’s roof. Every time Superman showed up, juicy stories followed him! Cat wasted no time as she ran to the stairs, scaled the fifteen floors above her, and then tip-toed up to the access door. She planted herself there, listening intently for her favorite kind of news: gossip.

“Come on, Superman! We both know Lex is just a spineless coward. You can take him!”

“It’s not about whether I can take him in a fight. This is a problem of reputation.”

“That doesn’t mean anything! He’s just a bully. Who listens to bullies anyway?”

Cat pushed the door open gently, just wide enough to see through a crack.

Lois Lane and Superman were standing on the roof! And by standing, of course, she meant that he was floating a few inches off the ground and she was in his arms, too close for him to have just carried her up. No, he was holding her more intimately than that.

She’d caught them red-handed!

“Lois, I can’t just punch all my problems away. Plenty of people listen to him, that’s why Lexcorp even exists. I have to handle this the hard way.”

“But–”

“No buts! That’s not how this works, and you know it.”

Lois sighed heavily, laying her head down on his shoulder in an awfully familiar manner. “I wish it wasn’t so hard…”

Cat reached for her phone and snapped a picture through the crack in the door. The shutter gave a little click.

“I know– hold on.”

Superman moved faster than Cat could blink. He pulled open the door, Lois abandoned where they’d been just prior, and he was glaring at Cat. “Cat Grant. I should have expected you to be eavesdropping.”

“Cat?!” Lois shrieked. “Cat, stop, this isn’t what it looks like!”

She jumped on the opportunity. “Superman, please, elaborate on the situation here! Are you aware Ms. Lane is currently in a romantic relationship with Clark Kent, another of our journalists? How does it feel to be the side chick? Just how long has this been going on?”

Superman backed away, wide-eyed. “Woah, hold on! That’s not– it’s not–”

“I’m not cheating on Clark!” Lois cried. “It’s– this isn’t anything, purely professional!”

“Professional?” Cat whooped with laughter. “My dear, my dear! It didn’t look that way to me!”

“You’re wrong. It’s nothing weird like that.”

“Nothing weird? Why, this is exceptional! Superman, you must let me interview you!” She gave him a sly smile, enjoying how his eyes widened in either fear or hope. “To clear the air, of course.”

Superman cleared his throat, averting his gaze for a moment before he spoke to her directly. “Ma’am, I must insist that it’s none of the public’s business.”

“Oh, but the public–” Cat pointed at herself– “already knows that something is going on! Surely you’d like to get ahead of the rumor wheel.”

He considered her argument, and Cat knew that he would agree. She always knew.

When he glanced back at Lois for confirmation, Cat was certain she had her scoop, even though Lois was frantically trying to pantomime that he should stop. “...Fine. I’ll answer your questions.”

Cat whooped in victory. “Fabulous!”

She sprang forward and grabbed Superman’s hand, pulling unsuccessfully. “Come, come, you must want privacy!” He complied and walked with her, and Cat dragged him to the corner of the rooftop near the building’s AC units.

She spun to face him and held up her recorder. “First question. What do you think of Clark Kent?”

He blinked twice. “Uh… who is that…?”

“Lois Lane’s self-proclaimed boyfriend! He’s another reporter here at the Planet, and has written several articles about you.”

“Uh– oh, yeah, Mr. Kent! Of course I know him!” He laughed awkwardly. “Um, he’s fine. Just a regular guy, a good reporter. Nothing special about him!”

“Oho, nothing special?” Cat pressed her advantage. “So you think he’s mediocre? Is he not worthy of Lois?”

“What?! I mean– no, nobody’s worthy of anybody else. Ms. Grant, I don’t think about him at all!”

Another score! She tried a new angle, “And what about Lois? What drew your eye? Didn’t you once say your ‘ideal woman’ was a ‘tall surgeon?’ We both know Lois is nothing like that.”

Superman frowned. “Ma’am, I don’t think the events of a reality show have any bearing on real life.”

“So did you lie?”

“What? No, I don’t lie to people.”

“Come now, Supes. Everyone lies. That’s why I have a gossip column in the first place.” Cat smirked. “Now. What’s so special about Lois Lane to capture the eye of Metropolis’ most eligible bachelor?”

She knew she’d struck a chord when the superhero blushed. He paused, stammering and hemming and hawing.

“Well… she already said it's nothing like that.”

“Come on, Superman! That blush says you have eyes for her. Spill.”

He sputtered and blushed a deeper pink, giving some excuse before he finally answered. “Lois is certainly a special person. She’s brave and kind, and really has a heart for Metropolis. She thinks the people should know what’s happening in their city, and I… admire that.” He shook his head, gaining some composure. “Ms. Grant, I won’t go into what is not between us. Just know that Ms. Lane is a wonderful person. Nobody needs to be extraordinary to be valuable.”

Cat nodded, mentally noting how Superman seemed to grow more confident as he spoke about her– like Lois meant more to him than he was letting on, just as she’d expected. What a twist, to have a superhero vying with an average man for a date with a journalist! This was going to be one of her best articles so far.

“Of course, of course. One last question, Superman.” She leaned forward, holding his gaze. “What would you like to say to Clark Kent? You know he’ll read this article, so give him a message!”

Superman paused, thinking hard, and placed his fists on his hips in one of his most iconic poses. “Well, Ms. Grant. If I had one thing to say to Mr. Kent, I’d tell him to keep Lois close and treat her even better than she deserves. He’s a lucky man.”

Cat snickered. “Is that really everything? You won’t try to stake your claim?”

“Stake my claim?” He considered it again, and then grinned– a mischievious expression that Cat wished she could get a photographer to capture. “Oh, I see. Yes, please put in the article that while I won’t fight him, we both know Lois gets whatever– and whoever– she wants.”

The scoop was hers! Cat whooped in victory. “Of course, Superman! I’ll make sure it’s impossible to miss!”

Superman nodded, gave her a bland goodbye, and flew away. The rooftop was suddenly quite empty and still, with Lois having somehow escaped during her conversation, but Cat was triumphant anyway.

Now, to add the pièce de résistance!

—

“Oh, Claaaark!~” Cat sang as she walked down the halls of the Daily Planet, waving a piece of paper in the air. “Claaark, where are you!”

She opened the door to the newspaper morgue without knocking, just to find the very trio she wanted to find. Jimmy and Clark were bent over the table, looking over some documents, while Lois was pinning things to their ‘murder board’ at the back of the room.

All eyes fell on Cat.

She laughed. “Oh, perfect! Just who I wanted to find!”

Lois shrieked. “Nope! Nope, nope, nope! Get out of here, Cat!”

“No can do!” Cat barged in, delighting in the boys’ shocked expressions. Lois tried to push her out of the room, but Cat managed to close the door just in time to stay inside. “Come now, Lois, there’s no need for that! I just wanted to talk to you bunch.”

“Absolutely not!” Lois was red in the face now.

“You don’t even know what I wanted to say!” 

“I have a pretty good idea! Clark, help me get her out of here!”

Clark looked between them with a bemused expression, smiling. “What’s going on here? Cat’s got just as much right as anyone to come in here, you know that Lois.”

“I swear, Smallville–”

“Clark!” Cat cheered and reached out to grab his hand. “Perfect, just the man I wanted!”

Clark blushed. “What?”

Jimmy’s jaw dropped. “What?!”

Cat laughed. “Oh stop that. Nothing of that sort, boys. I need to talk to Clark. An interview!”

Clark laughed nervously, sounding faint. “Um… you want to talk to me? Is this work-related?”

“Of course!” Cat pulled out her recorder and clicked it on. “Tell me, what do you think of Superman?”

He blinked, and blinked again. “What?”

“I said, what do you think of Superman? Come on, give me something to work with here! You know non-answers don’t work for articles!”

Clark stammered a little more, looking between all of the people in the room. He landed on Jimmy, who wiggled his eyebrows. “C’mon, buddy. Just tell her. It’s probably some human interest piece.”

He sighed. “All right. What are you looking for here, Cat?”

Here was the clincher. She leaned forward, winking. “Give me your full, honest opinion about him. Do you think he’s a good person? Is he handsome? Approachable? Honest?”

Clark laughed. “Honest? Of course he’s honest. Do you seriously think someone who spends their time helping everybody without asking a thing would be a bad person?” He rolled his eyes. “Please. I bet he’s the type to splurge on gifts for his mom, or… adopt a kitten in need of a home, just because it needs one. Metropolis is better off with him helping us.”

Cat nodded and jotted down a couple notes. He obviously thought highly of the superhero… was it highly enough to get a good reaction? 

She pulled out her piece of paper and offered it to him. “Look at this and tell me what you think about it.”

Clark stared at it, with Jimmy and Lois coming up behind him. Lois was somehow even more red, as if she was about to combust. Jimmy looked at it, then at Cat, then back and forth between the two. The paper illustrated Superman and a blue sky background, as if flying through the air, with a superimposed candid of Lois from around the office pasted into his arms. It looked a bit like a sticker on top of a poster.

Jimmy looked unimpressed. “Uh… Cat, did you Photoshop this?”

Cat rolled her eyes in frustration. “Yes, but that’s not important. Give me feedback!”

“This looks like a fan comic.” He took it and looked it over, turning it this way and that. “And a bad one. Seriously, did you even try?”

“Of course I tried!” Cat snapped, grabbing it from him. “It’s called a visual aid, darling. Now–” She looked at Clark, who was looking between everyone else with an unreadable expression. “What? What is it?”

“...Cat, why did you Photoshop Lois and Superman together?”

The scoop was hers!

“Oh, well, I just wanted to know what you had to say about Lois and Superman secretly dating!”

Jimmy gasped. “What?! No way, you’re crazy!”

Lois looked like she could melt through the floor from sheer embarrassment. “Yeah… crazy…”

Clark gaped at Lois. “Lois? You’re kidding. Please, tell me you’re kidding.”

Lois glared at him and said nothing.

“Oh… oh, boy. Oh my gosh. What? I mean– I just– what?” Clark sputtered, making some meaningless noises, ruffling his hair and knocking his glasses askew. “You said he wasn’t going to be a problem!”

“Clark–”

“No, you said he was just a friend,” Clark continued, staring at her. “You’re telling me that you said you ‘didn’t want to be official right now,’ and then went off and started going on dates with Superman? Lois, that’s just cold!”

Something undefinable crossed between them. Cat pulled out her phone to snap a subtle picture– with flash, of course– as Lois turned on him.

“Well, you know what? He’s exciting. He’s a hero. Of course I said yes to going on a date with him!”

“And I’m not exciting? I’m not good enough for you?”

“You’re not Superman,” Lois accused.

“So?! I treated you like a queen! You met my parents, Lois! I’ve never brought anyone to meet them. How about when your apartment bathroom flooded and I helped you clean it up? Or when your dad came to my parents’ for Thanksgiving? Or–”

“You think you’re such a hero?!” Lois snapped, storming over to him and pointing her finger right in his face. “Then you go and be Superman. Go ahead, just try to save Metropolis the way he does every single day. Just try and be half the man he is.”

“He’s not even a man, he’s an alien!”

“Maybe I like aliens. Ever thought of that?!”

Cat couldn’t keep down her whooping laughter. It echoed through the morgue, stopping Lois and Clark in their tracks. The two turned on her in sync with matching angry expressions.

Lois raised her finger to point at Cat. “You. Stay out of this.”

“No.” Clark stepped forward, between Lois and Cat. “You know what? No. Cat, I know you’re gonna write an article on this, so I have a message for Superman that I want you to put in, word for word.”

Cat was giddy as she got out her notebook. “Please, tell me! I want all the details.”

Clark took her recorder and brought it up to his face, speaking slowly and clearly. His voice was low, dangerously low, and filled with brimming frustration. It was enough to rival the male leads in Cat’s romance novels!

(So she liked to read trashy romance. Sue her. Romance was the world’s largest book genre for a reason.)

“Superman, this is a message from Clark Kent. You might be a hero, and might save Metropolis from whatever comes to hurt its people, but you don’t get to take everything you want just because of that. If you want someone to date, go about it the normal way.” 

His gaze slid to Lois. “If you really want to romance Lois so badly, first you have to take it up with me. I’m sure you know where I live, so… so… meet me on the roof and talk to me like a man. I won’t give up on Lois, not ever, so we’ll let Lois decide once and for all.”

Lois was watching him with wide eyes. Cat took back her recorder, smiling slyly as she put away her notebook. “Is that all?”

Clark smiled, then nodded slowly. “That’s all. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I think I need to have a little talk with Lois. Will you give us some space?”

Cat snickered. “But of course. Have fun, you two!”

She opened the door, and almost as an afterthought, grabbed Jimmy by his jacket collar. “Come along, Olson! We’ve got an article to write!”

“Hey, wait– let go of me!”

“Metropolis waits for no one!” Cat sang it out as she pulled the door closed behind her, slamming as she left. She pulled the struggling Jimmy down the hall to her cubicle, only letting him go when she dropped him at his own space. “Don’t go back in there, dear, they need their space.”

“But–”

“No, no buts! Trust me, you don’t want to see that.” She winked, enjoying how Jimmy’s jaw dropped. “They’re just fine with no one else there.”

Jimmy sputtered. “Wh– I– fine?”

“Good, good!”

Cat left him behind, sliding into her own cubicle with a sly smile. She felt like the cat that had gotten the canary!

What would it be like when they met? Oh, she could already envision it! The mental picture was delightful, she just had to laugh!

She could see it now. Superman and Clark Kent, facing off against one another. The anger, the tension, the jealousy! Superman, superior in strength, and Clark Kent, able to affect Superman’s reputation in every article he wrote. Would they fight? Would they shout?

Oh! What if Lois were there? Torn between the two men she’d been seeing, who fought over her like a prize! She would be so torn. Cat could see her faint expression now, how she would want them to settle the matter! Two men, vying for her heart, and one of them superhuman.

It was too juicy to resist! Cat logged into her computer and started writing immediately. Something this hot had to make it into tomorrow’s paper!

—

ONE LUCKY LADY! by Cat Grant

We all know that the hearts of Metropolis’ people were captured by Superman as soon as we met him. Strong, powerful, and superhuman. What’s not to love?

The Daily Planet has investigated Superman ever since breaking the news of his debut. His exploits have been nothing short of legendary. Many of our own reporters are able to tell of times when Superman personally saved them from falling buildings, rescued their pets, or helped them with whatever they needed– not to mention fending off alien invaders and strange tech weapons. He’s been a rock for our community.

So what is he up to now?

The Daily Planet is pleased to report that Superman seems to have turned his eye to the romantic side of life… and is dating our very own investigative journalist, Lois Lane!

Eagle-eyed readers may remember that Ms. Lane has been romantically involved with another of our journalists, one Clark Kent, for several months now. Lane and Kent frequently work together, and have a reputation of a loving relationship. But could something be wrong in paradise?

Superman was willing to answer a few interview questions on the matter.

CG: What do you think of Clark Kent?

S: Mr. Kent! Of course I know him. He’s fine, just a regular guy and a good reporter. Nothing special about him. I don’t think about him at all.

CG: What’s so special about Lois Lane to capture the eye of Metropolis’ most eligible bachelor?

S: Lois is certainly a special person. She’s brave and kind, and really has a heart for Metropolis. She thinks the people should know what’s happening in their city, and I admire that.

CG: One last question. What would you like to say to Clark Kent?

For this question, Superman considered his words carefully. What could he have been thinking?

S: I’d tell him to keep Lois close and treat her even better than she deserves. He’s a lucky man… While I won’t fight him, we both know Lois gets whatever, and whoever, she wants.

Talk about a challenge! Metropolis’ darling makes it sound like he’s not the slightest bit worried about who she might choose. But what would Mr. Kent think?

The story only gets better. After quite the argument with Ms. Lane, he gave the Daily Planet a message for Superman.

“Superman, this is a message from Clark Kent. You might be a hero, and might save Metropolis from whatever comes to hurt its people, but you don’t get to take everything you want just because of that. If you want someone to date, go about it the normal way.

“If you really want to romance Lois first, you have to take it up with me. I’m sure you know where I live, so meet me on the roof and talk to me like a man. I won’t give up on Lois, not ever, so we’ll let Lois decide once and for all.”

Talk about a challenge! Superman, we hope you’re ready for your most dangerous battle of all… a battle for Lois Lane’s heart. Here at the Daily Planet, we already have our favorite horse in this race, and that’s Ms. Lane. No matter who she chooses, she’s the luckiest woman in Metropolis right now!

—

Of course, Cat had no way of knowing what actually happened in the newspaper morgue that day, or how the article would be received.

She didn’t hear how Clark cracked jokes about Lois having to choose between him and himself. She didn’t see how Lois egged him on, pretending that he would hunt down Superman and give him a knuckle sandwich. She didn’t see how Lois laughed and laughed, begging him to spare himself, until finally the two ended the so-called argument with a kiss and a nice, long hug.

What she did hear was that Superman had flown around the city the day it was published, signing every copy of The Daily Planet he could find, and leaving a signed copy with a note on her desk for her to find when she arrived at work.

Dear Ms. Grant, 

The spin you put on this story was entertaining, so thank you for a good laugh. Please make no mistake that I do not date citizens– or anyone, Lois included. I wish you continued success in your writing.

-Superman

[uldren-sov]

shared secrets

another lil @infamous-if fic because i can't stop even if i wanted to. little bit of background for ms. rodriguez-rose but done in a more "current" time Hope you like! ~2.5k words Seven Lawless is canon and not mine but Camy Rose is :)

✩

The gentle rocking of the tour bus driving down the highway should be comforting, especially at – Camy looks across her notebook in her lap and turns her cell’s screen on – 1:14 AM, but all she can think about now is how fucked she’d be if she got motion sick. What if she was just nauseous this whole time? What if she was so sick she was unable to write songs? What if being sick kept her up all night instead of all these new people with their loud breathing and snoring? Maybe if she was, she would be so exhausted that she wouldn’t care about how Kieran (she thinks) snores louder when he sleeps on one side than the other. Maybe she wouldn’t care about hearing the indiscernible whispers between Seven and Avina in their bunk. 

Maybe she wouldn’t be fucking haunted by hearing Seven asleep and remembering how they had once fit together so comfortably on the most uncomfortable mattress... She fought hard to forget it these past years, but flashes of how fingertips felt along along her spine come back to her now when cradling her pillow can’t settle her enough to sleep, and during nights like these when her mind is just too active to let her body rest.

She stares blindly at her most recent page of half-finished lyrics and sketched notes as her mind’s tires spin in the mud, churning out all these unhelpful anxieties as she uselessly urges her brain to take advantage of this time to herself. Usually as the last one to fall asleep and top 3 of the earliest to wake up, it means she has plenty of alone time even among a crowd of 11 (including Chuck the driver). In those late nights and early mornings, she finds it easier to break through her own bullshit, her defensive ego and caked on charm, and just dare to be vulnerable again. Dare to write again. 

When the words come. 

Sometimes they just don’t. Like tonight where her brain would apparently like to think of literally anything else than sentences with meaning, ending in a word that can rhyme. Still, she’s not about to waste a night when she could be working on something, practicing, getting better. She has to, she must, she can’t stop. Sleep is not an option, lyrics are not an option, so she’ll work on her only other option - a way to improve without bothering anyone.

Slipping her notebook under her pillow and shimmying on some exercise pants she untucks the oversized Soft Violence band shirt – flipped inside out for everyone’s sake – from the waist band and carefully unzips the curtain of her bunk. She steps into the stale, frigid, air and quickly assesses her surroundings. Most of the curtains are closed, those that don’t have it cracked open for the AC, but most importantly everyone seems to be asleep. A sigh of relief as she works her neck and shoulders out after being hunched over her notebook for so long. Nothing about the tour bus is ideal but no one can say that she won’t make the most out of a bad situation. 

She snatches her laptop and headphones from the far corner of her bunk and gives another cursory look around. No one stirs, no curtain opens, no one peeks their head out telling her to go the hell to sleep, but she swears she hears some music from one of the bunks closest to her. Maybe it’s August? Either way, she’s safe enough to continue as she ducks down to where her carry-ons are stashed. She finds the handle of her guitar case and gathers it up along with the rest. 

It’s not uncommon that she would bring her guitar with her, despite not playing guitar in the band anymore. She uses the excuse that it helps imagine the song better and lets Rowan take the lead on the rest. The reality though is one of the few secrets she keeps from her band but it’s definitely not the biggest sacrifice she’s done for their sake. Not by half. It still might be the biggest lie that she keeps from them.

She tiptoes and carefully parts the beaded screen that separates the “bedroom” and the living area. Maneuvering around the space she sets up as close to the front as she can to make sure she won’t wake anyone. Laptop set up in front of her, she’s at least able to keep the curtain in her peripheral as she settles her PRS over her criss-crossed legs, and sets up the rest. Avoiding the red guitar pick with the single casino-style number on it and fishing out one of the dozen others, she tentatively starts picking along her electric guitar. Soft plinking of the metal strings are barely heard over the ambient sound from the bus, but even so, she glares at the curtain, bracing for someone to come out and catch her. 

What fans don’t know, and what she thinks even her band has forgotten, was that Camy was a guitar player long before she was ever a singer. Singing was something that she kept to herself until what felt like the last second. Even then, up until high school graduation, she was lead guitar and a secondary/co-vocals until they started making their own music. But as inevitable as erosion, she phased out of that guitarist role. It was better for the band, it was better for their sound, they told her she was a better singer than guitarist anyways – that one still stings even after all this time – and it was best for Rowan. More than any other reason, she made the change for him. She decided to just pull the pin and give into that eventuality one late night, like this one, to a sympathetic Seven who comforted her for her subtle sacrifice. Stepping out of Rowan’s spotlight, she quickly shifted to rhythm guitar, to only vocals, to lead singer. The audience for her late night playing dwindled to one, up until about three years ago. 

Now, she plays in secret to sharpen herself, she plays to develop melodies she’ll only later hum in rehearsal, and she plays for desperate nights like this. Now, she stares at the curtain for just a little while longer and sighs when she seems to be in the clear. 

Brushing her hair back she slips her headphones on and the strap of her guitar over her shoulder. A bit of warm-up, a bit of practice – a bit of tuning, to be honest – a bit of maintenance, and she begins to play. Slow improvisation finds a melody from the chaos of her mind, a song, a feeling, coalescing in cohesive notes resonating from her headphones. The effect is immediate, like her brain is sighing in relief as notes fall into rhythm, fall into order, fall into something that sounds like music. A quiet contentment and pride settles around her like a blanket hearing her improvement as well, a confirmation that she’s not only her songwriting.  

2:28 AM. She rests for a moment, stretching out her hands as she takes a break. She should sleep. She shouldn’t take a stab at the latest, hardest, solo she’s been practicing off an on for a while now. She should just relax, for once. She shouldn’t cut into her sleep schedule any more than she already does. 

It doesn’t take long before she’s nodding her head in time with the track she has loaded up and the metronome that helps her keep the beat. The notes fly under her fingertips and she allows herself a smile at her progress. She’s a long way from really nailing such a complicated solo, but damn if she isn’t getting there.  And damn if it isn’t fun to learn – even with all the frustration involved with learning it.

Something whispers in the back of her mind as her skin pricks with awareness. In her peripheral there’s a shape looming, framed in the threshold of the living area. For a brief moment she wonders who looks weirder: her, hunched over her colorful guitar with the laptop’s screen blaring light into her face or the person standing there, menacingly, in shadow in front of that ridiculous beaded screen.

Ripping the headphones off her ears she wraps her arm around her guitar like she’s trying to hide it before she straightens in realization. Seven stares at her, stares through her, half highlighted in moonlight half shrouded by the night. The weight in his look is as inscrutable as the rest of him. She’s not sure how long he’s been there – why is he even here? – but if she was going to be caught by anyone, she decides he’s actually not the worst choice. Since the start of the competition, Seven has calmed down a bit, just a bit, and thankfully she can’t see any of that heat she’s come to expect. Yet. 

“Sorry if I woke you,” she whispers. 

“You didn’t.” He shakes his head and yet she can almost taste the lie. She glances past him for any more movement but finding none, she finds his dark green eyes in the gloam. As impossible as he is to read, something about how he regards her now has her breath catching. “Didn’t know you still played.” 

“Technically, I don’t,” she says, shifting uncomfortably as she closes the lid to her laptop. “Remember?” Which is always a risk to say to him now. He seems to hate everything about their shared past, the good and the bad. He shifts in place before wandering closer to lean against the opposite side of the sofa. Tucking his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, he glares out the window as the conflict in his mind already begins to show in the furrow in his brow. She chews on her lip, taking in the way his hoodie is zipped up enough to be respectful yet low enough for her to know he’s shirtless underneath. She has to rip her gaze away before she starts lingering too long on how good he looks when he actually just rolls out of bed and not only when he styles himself like he did. 

She tempers herself with a slow exhale, reminding herself that his opening performance was a song all about how much he hates her, with a performance tailored to aggravate her jealousy, both of which took advantage of her latest confession. Admitting her nightmare to the ghost of love’s past himself, was a fucking stupid move, she'll admit now. Confessing how she was still not over him, no matter how brutally honest it was, blew up in her face - but how could it not? In response, he could not be more clear about the hurt he wanted to inflict or the line he cut in the sand between them.

She wishes she hated him the way that he hated her. 

“With your band,” he says and she catches how he nearly winces at that, “changing up your sound, it’d make sense for you to play.” He shrugs, looking away from her as soon as she looks up to him. She replies with a sigh, pulling the strap off her shoulder and starting to pack her things up. 

“Everything that had me stop before hasn’t changed. All those old reasons. So, as far as they know, I don't anymore. Simple as that, ” she says. Admitting anything to him feels like a risk now, ammunition for him to use as a competitor but – who else can she talk to about this? She’s not one to share, not one to be vulnerable – not anymore – but there’s just still something about Seven that makes her feel … safe. Safe enough to share. He can and has hurt her in ways he knows no one else can, but he’s never shared her secrets. 

That she knows of. Which is a caution she never thought she’d have to guard herself against. Fool me once...

“Why?” She asks.

“Why what?”

“Why do you care?” 

“I don’t,” he snaps. But sighs tightly as he shifts again, their eyes meeting now as slowly that flare of his anger ebbs. “Just, surprised, I guess. If there would ever be a time for you to show off your playing again, it’d be now.” Something warms in her chest as she reads between the lines. 

“Are you sure that I’m even good anymore? Who knows, I might suck now,” she sets her guitar aside and folds her arms over the back of her seat, perching her chin on her arms as she stares up at him. He snorts and she fights a smile off her lips. It’s dangerous how easy it is to let her guard down around him.

“You’re practicing some kind of wild song in the middle of the night? I doubt you decayed down to, like, Smoke on the Water levels,” he says with a scoff that sounds suspiciously like a laugh. 

“You could tell it was a wild song?” 

“I didn’t hear any notes or anything but the amount of shredding you played was pretty wild,” he admits and she can’t help but chuckle in response. Warmth blooms through her chest and into her fingertips with the thought that he was watching her and with some level of appreciation.

“I mean, I guess you can say that. But it’s really just Randy Rhoads kicking my ass,” she grins and his face lights up with a smile that makes her heart slam against her rib-cage.

At least until both of them snap up to stare at each other in realization of what was happening. 

She drops her head and clears her throat. “But it’s late,” she checks the time – 3:22 AM – and she rolls her lips as she finishes packing up her things. “Big day of hanging out in a bus tomorrow. Probably should get back to bed.” She ventures as she avoids looking at him until her guitar case is zipped closed. Standing in a rush she almost stumbles back from crashing into him. A second of her heart clenching in her chest until it stills, a second of being closer than they’ve been in years, a second of having flashbacks of dozens, of hundreds, of late nights with her playing in their living room and him coaxing her back to sleep, before he scrambles back and puts some space to breathe between them. 

“Right, uh huh,” Seven replies, tugging his hood over his head and jerking the rest of the zipper up his hoodie. “Yep.”

“Sorry that I woke you up, though,” she says suddenly, gently. Bracing into himself now, he glowers at her for a moment before pulling away further. A couple of steps later, a safe distance away, maybe, and he turns back to her. 

“It’s fine. It’s not like it was loud, I just-” he stops himself as he seems to fall into himself for a moment. “Know what it sounds like and-” She cocks her head in confusion as he glances up to her now, almost panicked as he jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “Come back to bed.” She arches an eyebrow, jaw dropping a little before he scowls deeper, “I mean go to sleep!” And with that he’s quick to retreat through the curtain once more as she’s left breathless, ambushed, and, in a strange way, comforted by the gesture. 

As she quietly follows after, she carefully puts her things away and slips silently back into her bunk. Despite the lingering heavy beat of her heart, she curls around her pillow now realizing that while her practice quieted her mind, there was a warmth in the familiarity of their exchange that soothed her as well. 

Sleep takes her before the warning against such a sentiment takes hold.

[heejayy]

My Heart and My Soul

Warning • suggestive

Genre • fluff, lil angst

Pairing • Shuri x Black Reader

Wc: 1.8k

A/n: since y’all think this bitch tinder i guess imma have to step up my writing game, can’t get goods fics anywhere. Like where y’all go??! 😭😭

Shuri and you have been close since high school, inseparable even. It was almost concerning how close your were and it didn’t shock a soul when you two got married. Growing up you were always the quiet and observant one and her the out going adventurous one.

Your Youth

You always got looked over by everyone except one person, Shuri. She noticed you right away, it was to your first day of freshman year, you had no one to talk or hang out with so during lunch you’d walk to the library and read. The first two weeks of school she studied you confused on why you’d sit alone reading, you were beautiful and smart to her, it’d seem like you’d make friends easily.

So one day curiosity got the best of her and she followed you to your personal corner. She watched you routinely pull out the book you’ve been reading and a highlighter.

“Whatcha’ reading?” uninvited Shuri plopped her bag down beside you taking a seat. The look of shock in your face was enough to tell Shuri she scared you “my bad didn’t mean to frighten you, I’m Shuri” she held out her hand with a bright smile on her face.

You glanced down at her hand and back up at her, you thought this was a joke. One why would the princess of the royal family come sit down and chat with you and two why is she in a public village school?

“Did I do something wrong your majesty?!”

“Shh no no you are fine. I wanted to come talk to you I see you walk in here everyday but no one joins you, why is that?”

“Oh well I’m not good at making friends” you mumbled shying away, “may I ask you a question?” Her face lit up with joy.

“Yes?”

“Why are you in a public school…you’re the princess don’t you have private tutors?” She chuckled nervously scratching her undercut.

“Oh well my mother thought it would be good for me to socialize with kids my age plus there’s really nothing they can teach that I already don’t know” you nod pushing your glasses up.

“Well I’m sure you have plenty of friends you are the princess,” her smile fades as she looks away.

“N-not exactly, you see no one wants to hang out with me as they are afraid of my status and the only people who do is also because of my status…so I’m in a lose lose situation, but if you don’t want me here I understand. I did intrude, my apologies” she got up with a sad frown beginning to make her way around the corner.

You felt bad, you knew exactly how she felt. Not having anyone to talk to and constantly being alone, it was no fun. Stricken with guilt you called after her.

“Princess Shuri!” You whisper yell, she instantly turns around with a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

“Yes?”

“You can stay if you like I don’t mind” you move your book bag and wave her back over “come join me” you smile patting the floor. A grin instantly took over wiping away her frown as she ran back over to you.

“May I show you my sketchbook?” She excitedly ask pulling out a thick notebook from her backpack. “All of my recent inventions are in here, look” she excitedly flipped through the pages finally having someone to show it to.

That one pivotal moment changed your life’s forever. Having each other made high school a breeze. Even growing into adulthood you two had each other’s back, and that slowly led you you developing feelings for each other that neither of you would speak about until later.

Attending college was no different even though you two didn’t pursue the same careers you stayed close nonetheless.

College Years

“I swear this homework is kicking my ass, I’m ‘bout to cry!” you wail slamming the mechanical pencil on the table. Shuri peered up from her lab table shaking her head.

“I can do it for you if you like-“

“No Shuri if you do it I’ll never learn anything.” She just shrugged going back to fixing her brothers panther suit.

She smirked cockily looking at you “it’s up to you I’m done with mine.” You shot daggers at her chucking the pencil at her head.

“It’s not funny!” She ducked laughing, “I will help you as long as you don’t throw anything else” you rolled your eyes swallowing the sarcastic comeback you had ready “fine.”

Shuri smiled putting down her tools “all you had to do was ask for help, you’re so annoyingly independent.” She’s one to talk.

You and Shuri sat at the table for hours finishing and correcting any and every piece of work you done that night. You were becoming distracted but not because of the work, because of Shuri. You were starting to feel things for her that a best friend shouldn’t feel, you eyed her beautiful features in awe. The way her jaw clenched and unclenched when she was thinking, the way she smirk to herself whenever she figured something out, or how her eyebrows would furrow when she was confused.

She was just gorgeous.

“Did you hear me?”

“Huh?! Ohhh yeah yeah I got it“ you didn’t get it.

Shuri was going over the material once again for you until her phone rang, it was Imani her girlfriend. You rolled your eyes putting your focus back on your work trying not to hear their conversation, but you couldn’t help it. You wished Shuri would call you baby like that and spoil you with love as she did her ungrateful girlfriend. Yes ungrateful, Imani cheated on Shuri twice and Shuri still took her back.

Sometimes you worried for your dear friend.

“Can you take that somewhere else I’m trying to work” Shuri knew you didn’t like Imani but you put up with her.

The Big Fight

Having enough of Imani’s bullshit with her treating your friend like she’s nothing, you confronted Shuri. You tried to tell her she’s sneaking around again but Shuri didn’t want to hear any of it, as if she was in denial.

“Are you jealous or something? Jealous that I found love and you can’t?”

Hearing those words come out of her mouth hurt like falling into a thousand needles. Hearing someone you fell in love with say they loved someone else hurt. You blink your tears away swallowing the lump in your throat.

“If you want to stay with her fine, but I’m not gonna stick around to watch her treat you like shit, don’t come crawling back when she breaks your heart again.”

After that fight you two had you didn’t talk for weeks. Over the course of those weeks you felt this hole in your chest grow larger and larger yearning for her to fill it, but deep down you knew she never would. What you didn’t know was Shuri felt the same. Spending so much time alone with Imani made her realize she didn’t want her. She was trying to distract herself away from you.

As she watched Imani lay on her chest guilt began to fill her, she didn’t want her laying on her she wanted you laying on her, she wanted you cuddling close to her. The very next day she broke up with Imani and ran you you. She ran over to your house hoping you’d find it in your beautiful heart to forgive her. Repeatedly she knocked on your door, when you didn’t answer she kept knocking and knocking until-

“Damn Shuri what is it?!” You knew it was her?

“Y/n please forgive, I’m terribly sorry for treating you the way I have. That was no way to treat my best friend. You were right Imani was no good for me I was only using her as a place holder for you, please please please forgive me” she held onto you with tears in her eyes hoping you would hug her back and say you forgave her.

You stared into her eyes still feeling the pain the day she said those hurtful things to you. You gave her a sad smile reaching for her face to dry her eyes “my sweet Shuri you hurt me, you made me feel like my opinion didn’t matter anymore” she shook her head no “no please it does matter to me I promise, please forgive me” with your love for the princess outweighing the hurt she inflicted on you, there was no doubt in your heart you weren’t going to forgive her “I forgive you.”

Not being able to hold herself back Shuri grabs you by the waist smashing her lips on yours. This was something you dreamt about, feeling her soft lips against your sent butterflies to your stomach. You held onto her melting right into the kiss.

She pulled away with a smile “Damn I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“You have?! Why didn’t it say anything?!”

“That doesn’t matter hush” she giggled kissing you again.

The Path of Love

(Suggestive)

Dating Shuri was a dream come true she was such a doll. Everything you needed she provided and vise versa. You two were made for each other, like Yin and Yang. You two experienced everything in life together including your first time.

You two were both so eager but nervous, having a few hiccups at first but nothing too serious. It was laughed off and you continued. You both took you time with each other, kissing and caressing each other ever so softly. Nothing filled the room but sweet moans and soft music in the background. You two couldn’t stop touching and loving on each other, so absorbed with one another’s presence, it was like heaven on earth.

“Damn” you huffed pulling the blanket over your naked body, Shuri giggled doing the same.

“If I knew you could do that I would’ve done this a long time ago” you gasp smacking her shoulder “Shut up!”

Your dating life was nothing too different from your friendship accept you kissed and had sex.

You both were extremely comfortable with one another and told each others every thought you had. So when she wanted to try something new in the bedroom you never denied her, you were always down with whatever. Others were almost sickened at how sweet your relationship was, you two spoiled each other with love and always talked out your problems.

Two years flew by and Shuri was ready to marry you. She proposed in the garden she had made for you, it was unexpected but of course you said yes.

The Present

Your love for each other never dwindled even in the roughest parts of your relationship your love stayed strong. So strong you decided to expand your love to your little one, you were currently seven months pregnant with a baby that was gifted to you by Shuri’s genius’s mind and her science.

You rubbed your swollen belly with a smile as you looked through your old year book.

“Oh my god Shuri look it’s our year book photos” she peered over the couch “eww I looked so bad, why did I think that looked good!”

You smacked your lips “no you didn’t! I always thought you were so cute with your little glasses and your know it all attitude” you giggled. You flipped through some more looking at all the photos you and Shuri took together through out your four years in high school, the way you two looked at each other should’ve been a clue to the romantic feelings you felt for one another, but the what ifs and buts doesn’t matter now because in the end you got your girl.

“You know I’m glad you came and talked to me that day in the library” you said closing the book. She smiled taking a seat next to you, “I’m glad I did to.”

She left a soft kiss against your lips then moved down you you belly to leave a kiss “I love you.”

You smiled caressing her curls “I love you more.”

Taglist 💌 : @abenomeiiii , @lustfulbarbie , @locoforshuri , @6-noir , @saintwrld , @vampzxi , @ihearttish , @cafehyunji , @ccharrrr , @sapphicvqmpires , @yamsthoughts

[moira-mains-go-to-hell]

hello !! it’s lovely seeing a new writer in the OW community,, lots of new life!!

i would love to formally request a Cassidy x GN!Reader, with the prompt: “Put that down, let me hold your hands damn it!”

i was thinking the reader could be a medic of some sorts, who gets lost in their work often, and Cassidy is trying to confess to them.

i cannot wait to see what you come up with, and all of the other stories that you’ll write!! much love <3

I love this damn ask so much more than you realize Cassidy is my baby boy.

Warnings: none

Take a Breather

He was your partner. He carried out the missions, you kept him alive. Sure there where plenty of others you worked with, but you two just meshed in the field.

However at base, you were hardly ever within a thirty yard radius of each other. Cassidy had training to do and meetings to be in, and you had work to do in the medical wing, you being in charge of expense reports and the incident report keeper. Sure a cup of coffee could be shared between you two on a Saturday afternoon, but that came once every blue moon.

On the other hand, Cole couldn’t shake his dislike of the situation. He liked your presence, your witty comments, and your genuine care with him, never as gruff and blunt with him like everyone else. You were softer with him, and he liked to match the tone. He would never be this polite with anyone but Ana Amari herself, and he hasn’t seen her in ages.

Somehow though, today he had made his way to your office, two cups of coffee in hand and a few words on his chest he needed to get off.

“Knock knock,” he backed through the door of your office, “I’d use my hands but I figured you’d want this in a mug and not on the floor.”

“Cole!” You whipped around from the book case you where rummaging through, causing the cowboy to laugh, “hey there.”

“You can relax hun, ain’t nothing wrong.”

You met him at the door and grabbed a mug from him, setting it on the corner of your desk while you went back to your bookshelf, “thank you, really, I know you don’t have much time in your day to swing by.”

“You’d be surprised, my day has been slower than molasses.”

“Really? I wish I could say the same Cowboy,” you picked out a binder and began flipping through the contents.

“You know, I was thinking, maybe we could…” he trailed off, noticing your attention was divided. He cleared his throat a little and waited for you to look back up.

“I’m sorry where are you saying something?”

“Oh it’s nothing, I was just thinking maybe we could go for a walk? Or a breath of fresh air?” He nodded towards the door, “it’s a beautiful day.”

“I’d love to, but I just have a lot of reports to go through in the next few weeks and-“

“Why don’t you put that down and hold my hands damn it.” You stopped in your tracks, turning around to face the cowboy.

He tried to feign confidence, a blush tinting his cheeks redder than a fire truck. He stood awkwardly and tried to remain firm, but you could see his struggle.

“Oh?” Your amusement would win the battle with your virtue, wanting to see where this would go.

He took off his glove, shoving it in his back pocket, and he wiped his hand on his pants, ‘Is he nervous?’ The smile you held grew as he went on, making his little stand.

“Yes, and I think you overwork yourself, so let’s go now, and I’ll help you pick up later?” He extended his hand to you, a pleading look behind his eyes.

“Why not,” you shrug, “I haven’t taken my break yet today anyway,, it would be good to stretch my legs and take a breather” you place your hand in his, interlocking your fingers together as he leads you down the hallway.

He takes you around the corner and out the door, the medical wing courtyard. ‘He was right, it is beautiful,’ you let him lead you over to a bench where you both sat, him taking your other hand into his as well.

“I would first like to say, I am sorry for my outburst,” his hands where larger than yours, holding yours as if they where fragile, “but secondly, I would like to just have some time to talk to you one on one, ya’know? I knew you wouldn’t go for just anything, but I didn’t quite think through my execution.”

You nodded, giving his fingers a light squeeze, “I’m sorry I got caught up in my work. There has just been a lot to do with the rest of the med team out and being on my own. I am, however, glad you pulled me away.”

You could see him relax a bit, a small sigh of relief pushing past his lips, “Good, because I’d hate to tell you I like you with you mad at me.”

“Well that would be hard ye-“ you stopped yourself, widening your eyes at him. “Excuse me?”

“I like you, a lot. It’s not just working with you, even though it’s a leading factor to this,” his thumbs rubbed the back of your hands, “I just think you are a wonderful person, and I, uh, would like to test the waters of that feeling.”

His eyes where shielded by his hat, you had never seen him this nervous, much less not even look you in the eyes.

“Cole, look at me,” you took his hat off and swept his hair out of his eyes, “I like you too, and I’d love to help you test those waters.”

His eyes where a bit watery and his smile was wide, ‘was he this afraid of me telling him no? Why would he ever think like that?’

The hug he locked you in was bone crushing, which you reciprocated as best you could, “thank you,” he spoke into your shoulder, “I want to do my best with this.”

“Well you’ve gotten this far Cowboy, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

[otomehoneyybearr]

Act 12

Episode 11: Each of Our Depatures

Working w/ Maybelle Lace

Note: As you read, you will see that some sentences highlighted in a different color, this is what they indicate. Pink: Flashback Blue: Characters are acting

Taichi: Well, I'm off then!

Juza: Same.

Izumi: Take care.

Omi: It's only a little bit, but I've put some pre-made side dishes and dessert in the fridge, so please feel free to eat them.

Izumi: Thank you!

Banri: See you later, Director. I'll be in touch.

Izumi: Yeah, see you.

Masumi: I'm staying too.

Tsuzuru: Then there'd be no point to any of this.

Izumi: We went over this extensively yesterday.

Masumi: ...Then video call me daily. 24 hours a day.

Itaru: Scary.

Tsuzuru: You're sticking to her even more closely than when we're in the dorms.

Izumi: Everything will get back to normal in no time.

Muku: It's only for now.

Kumon: It'll be like going on summer vacation.

Kazunari: Totally. It’s a little sad, but it'll all be okay!

Misumi: Until then, I'll keep looking for triangles!

Yuki: See you soon.

Tenma: Be careful while you're alone.

Izumi: I will. See you soon!

Itaru: Since Sakyo's curfew decree no longer holds, I'm free to do all-nighters.

Izumi: Please don’t overdo it!

Chikage: Call me if you need anything.

Azuma: You can contact me even if you don't need anything.

Guy: You are always welcome to come to the bar.

Izumi: Got it!

Sakyo: Alright, I’m counting on you. If you ever feel like you're in danger, call me anytime.

Izumi: Roger that.

Homare: Well, I'll be off then. I'll make sure to write plenty of poems while I’m back home. I look forward to performing them for you.

Homare: Hisoka, please do make sure to keep a record of your marshmallow intake so you don't run out of them.

Hisoka: ...I know. I'll just find some new marshmallows.

Izumi: Let me know if you find any.

Tsumugi: I'm off. Thanks for looking after the dorm.

Izumi: Leave everything to me. Take care.

Tasuku: When I get home, I'll try to reflect on myself so that I can face the play with a new mindset.

Izumi: Sounds good!

Izumi: (The dormitory suddenly feels so quiet with everyone leaving one by one.)

Banri: Disbanding?

Tenma: Are you serious?

Izumi: Not at all. But, considering everything, I think this is the best way to go.

Izumi: If we all work together, I'm sure we won't lose to Amadate.

Izumi: But I definitely don't want to put everyone in danger.

Izumi: That threatening e-mail demanded that the troupe be disbanded, right?

Izumi: So I thought it would be a good idea to have everyone move out of the dorms and pretend that the troupe has been disbanded.

Sakyo: If rumors of disbanding get out, even Amadate might be fooled by it.

Izumi: If we all work together and gather enough materials to corner Amadate in the meantime, we might be able to resume our performances with peace of mind.

Izumi: Honestly, because of this situation, I want all of us to be together. I don't want us to fall apart.

Izumi: But we have to break up for everyone's safety for now.

Izumi: Even if we live in different places, I believe that we'll all continue feeling the same way.

Sakuya: Izumi...

Izumi: What will you do now, Itaru and Chikage?

Itaru: I can't relax at my parents' house because my older sister is there, so I'll just rent a monthly apartment for a while.

Chikage: For me, well, I have a lot of places available to me.

Itaru: Will Sakuya be staying with you?

Chikage: I have a place I can prepare for him.

Citron: I'll be living in a hotel for a while, so you can stay with me!

Itaru: As expected of a celebrity.

Tsuzuru: My house is small and noisy, but I can arrange for a place to sleep.

Masumi: There’s plenty of rooms at my place. You don't have to come though.

Itaru: Then why even bother pointing that out.

Sakuya: Thank you very much. But I’ve already decided where to go, so I’ll be fine.

Chikage: Is that so?

Izumi: Where will you be staying?

Sakuya: Kasumi was the first to invite me, so I'm planning to stay with him for just one night.

Izumi: For one night? What about after that…?

Sakuya: I've been seriously thinking over what I can do and what I wanted to do until I stepped on stage as Saku again.

Sakuya: So I thought about going on my first ever solo trip before the performance, but I gave up on doing it because there wasn’t much time.

Sakuya: Besides, I also have homework that you gave me, Izumi!

Tsumugi: I agree, as Izumi said, it might be best to pretend to break up.

Sakyo: If we want to be safe, that's the way to go.

Izumi: Oh, and one more thing, if you don't mind, I have some homework for you.

Izumi: While you're away from the dorm, I want you all to think about what your life would be like if you hadn't joined Mankai Company.

Izumi: Then compare that hypothetical life with the life you have now and the life you want in the future.

Izumi: After finding your reason why you want to stand on the Mankai stage as a member of this theater company, I hope you all come back.

Muku: That's...

Izumi: Of course, I haven’t given up on our future performances or the Fleur Award.

Izumi: But, in this current situation where we're at our lowest, I don't know for sure when we will be able to perform together again.

Izumi: I don't want to leave everyone in a dark situation where the future is uncertain.

Izumi: That's why I want each of you to step away from the company and reconsider your reasons for wanting to remain in the company.

Izumi: If everyone comes back after doing that, I'm sure the new Mankai Company will become a theater company stronger and more united than ever before.

Izumi: Of course, no matter what conclusion you reach, I will support that answer.

Izumi: So, please...

Juza: Got it. I'll take this opportunity to face myself again.

Azami: It could be a good opportunity.

Sakuya: After hearing your words, I felt like I could finally face my hometown, which I’ve been afraid to confront for so long.

Sakuya: I am sure that now is the time for me to set off on my journey. I'm not afraid anymore because I know you will be here waiting for me.

Izumi: I see...

Izumi: (When I think back to during our debut performance when he played as Romeo, he was terrified that his place would be taken away from him. He has grown up a lot since then.)

Izumi: I hope you have a safe and enjoyable journey. Please be careful.

Sakuya: Look forward to seeing your souvenirs! I’ll be off!

….

Kabuto: (I never imagined my old man would resort to such extreme measures... He's truly a scary opponent.)

*Phone rings*

Kabuto: ...

Aoshi: "Hey Kabuto, what’s your deal with skipping today's regular practice without permission?"

Aoshi: "Are you just sleeping at home again?"

Kabuto: I can't show up to practice for a while. Starting tomorrow, you'll be in charge in my place.

Aoshi: "What? Wait, what's that supposed to mean—"

Kabuto: And don't come near my room for a while.

Aoshi: "...Is there a problem?"

Kabuto: That concludes any business talk.

Aoshi: "Okay, okay. I get it. You won’t explain. At least I understand the situation regarding practice."

Aoshi: "However, since you're the poster boy of Hyakka Theater Company, it'll be troublesome if you don't come back soon."

Kabuto: I'm sure even my old man understands my value as a commodity.

Aoshi: "...Seems like this is related to Mr. Amadate after all. Please keep your parent-child conflicts in moderation."

Kabuto: You should be saying that to him instead.

Kabuto: (I’ve left the affairs of the theater company to Aoshi, but what should I do moving forward...?)

Kabuto: (It's likely my old man already knows that I tried to leak information to Mankai Company.)

Kabuto: (Since I don’t have all the necessary information yet, it feels like I’m being misled, and because of that, there’s a possibility that my movements will become restricted.)

Kabuto: (How can I contact Mankai Company without leaving any traces behind...?)

Subordinate: Mr. Kabuto.

Kabuto: …!

Subordinate: Will you come with me peacefully? I don't wish to be rough with you.

Kabuto: ...Tch.

Subordinate: Please hand over all of your devices.

Kabuto: … It’s just this.

Subordinate: Now then, this way please.

*thank you guys for your patience. Hopefully I’ll have a regular update schedule for everything by tomorrow!

Prev | Next

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[nancydrewwouldnever]

The good thing about a long commute is that it leaves you with plenty of time to think, so you can really pick at those things in the corner of your brain.

I’m about to half-assed pop psychology all over this crap.

So, yesterday was really interesting from a picking apart Chris Evan’s subconscious kind of an angle. I don’t want to look at the still photos montage. I only want to think about the first and third posted video – the mouth video and the Mario Kart video.

We now know from the scare video dump in January and this dump yesterday that there’s a lot of material floating around out there on cell phones. (But, yeah, we already guessed that, didn’t we.) So, we have to really start finely parsing why a person would choose two videos as bizarrely uncomfortable as those he posted to try to sell a “serious love story” on the holiday for the serious love story. Because neither of those videos sold love or even affection – they sold the subtext of disdain.

When you both say in a video you post “you’re not going to like this” or write “she hates this, but I find it funny,” you are communicating an inherent lack of respect for the person you are showing as the subject of said videos. There’s no way you can look at either video and not see that in some way Alba is being portrayed, whether intentionally or not, as somehow inept or incompetent, hapless or helpless. She “doesn’t know what to say” or do in the first one; she is being put physically in a position which has inherent sexualized overtones from porn culture. He is physically holding her down, to a certain way of thinking. In the second video she struggles to play a video game originated before she was ever born(!), and he finds this ineptitude to be hilarious. From my way of viewing, as the audience, I don’t find either video to be indicative of cute couples’ behavior behind the scenes, but rather of an older dominant male putting a younger more inexperienced female into shaming/ridiculing situations. And then blasting those situations to the world via social media.

Why would you ever make those choices for those videos, knowing you probably have others to choose from that show situations far less riddled with open-ended interpretation. (Let’s be real, he could have shown them skiing at Okemo, not much subtext there.)

This is where we get into the pop psychology angle, which I’m probably just going to massacre, but oh well. We all started musing about that “I hate myself” quote the minute we read it in SMA. Now, I invite you to think about the psychology concept of projection.

I think that self-hatred and self-loathing he holds is far deeper and far more insidious than any of us can comprehend. I’ll give him some credit, he’s done a somewhat good job of covering it up and still having career success even while dragging it around.

But it’s bad, and I think he directs a lot of it into his interpersonal relationships with women.

That self-hatred and self-loathing is what keeps him from having true long-lasting and healthy romantic partnerships. He subconsciously detaches parts of it from himself, through his insecurities, and projects those insecurities onto his partner. Therefore, he’s already given himself an out for why the relationship will fail, but it’s not on him, because he’s projected it onto them. However, it is always on him, even if he can’t see that, because he’s never working on the actual root cause of why everything doesn’t work, doesn’t fit, doesn’t fulfill his intense emotional lacks: because he’s never acknowledged that there is some intense trauma there somewhere that set this self-hate and self-loathing into action, and that it needs to be brought into the light with therapy and worked on. Nothing will change until that happens.

Instead, the subconscious cycles and patterns are self-perpetuating, so he will continue to search out situations which feed the cycles. Ergo, always someone he can project onto, not someone self-realized enough to be the kind of person who could actually help him come to terms with his own trauma.

So, whatever this toxic situation with Alba is, it is even more toxic because it serves his subconscious need to project all his own insecurities onto her. And she’s in no way capable of stopping that, because she just doesn’t have the life or relationship experience to do so. So, I postulate that what you see in those two videos, that’s him projecting his own self-disdain, self-ridicule, and immaturity onto her in a situation he has perfectly created for it. If you’re watching those videos and you feel like Chris is viewing her through a lens of shaming or derision, know it’s not just her: he’s viewing himself the same way as well.

So, I’ll end by paraphrasing a great line from Hamlet: Get thee to a nunnery. (Apt, given Chris also has a really off-the-rails Madonna/Whore complex.)

Chris – get thee to a psychoanalyst’s couch.

(Freud's actual couch.)

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

Bucky and Steve spend a period of time (maybe a whole day, maybe a weekend, maybe a whole week!) where Bucky keeps Steve drunk and bloated and sloshy all the time, encouraging him to keep drinking by always making sure he has a beer or a cider or a bottle of wine or a bottle of spirits in his hand, and even tipping the drink up to his mouth and pouring it down his throat, and Steve just gets slower and dumber and fuzzier as the days go on, and Bucky takes plenty of pictures of his drool-slick chin and his empty eyes and his dumbed face and the alcohol that spills from the corners of his mouth as he drinks and records him stumbling around and swaying where he stands and chugging drink after drink after drink for Steve to watch later when he's sober and can really appreciate it, and he plays with Steve's belly constantly as it swells to insane levels and gets all sloshy with liquid and Steve moans and groans and pants, consumed by arousal and pleasure as Bucky makes him feel good, both of them enjoying their opposite ends of the situation and when they finally go back to their regular lives, it takes a while for the water weight to go down and maybe, just maybe, is Steve a little puffer when it ends, a layer of alcohol pudge that doesn't quite go away? I just saw that you're posting intox again and I'm writing two intox fics so I thought I'd just send you some inspiration ;)

YES

I am obsessed with these thoughts 🥴

Although I feel like I've written something kinda like this before? And that's just how much I love it! Of course I've eaten it up before like the goblin I am, haha. So I will recommend those related things to you:

A situation for Steve and Bucky, perhaps?

You and your partner are at a bar.

Steve and Bucky spend an entire week keeping each other filled to the brim.

Imagine either Bucky or Steve, I don't know (I don't know which one would be better, but I leave that up to your discretion) filling the other up...

Sorry!! That was my same ask about the drunk sex...

I'm such a sucker for intox and the hard, solid fat that comes with beer bellies - yanno, the kind of gut that hardly jiggles when you slap it, the kind of belly and the kind of lard that doesn't go away, no matter how not-bloated the person with the beer belly is, it's just this layer of pure, dense fat attached to them, total pot belly while the rest of them appears like an off-season athlete that only makes their belly stick out more - but it scrambles my brain so bad I don't know what to add!!! 😵‍💫😵‍💫

(And if you finished those intox kink fics you were talking about,, if you're even still kicking around here because this ask is from a long time ago [sorry about that by the way, I'm terrible at answering requests on time 😅],, I would love to read them if you're willing to share 🫴🏻🫴🏻🫴🏻)

[vampire-the-askerade]

Nines Rodriguez x Reader

[content warning: arguments, slightly risky at the end but not totally nsfw]

[not proof read, sorry. Just had one of those, “wait a minute I love him” moments and had to write something]

The rain was finally starting to let up. While you were thankful for the extra cover it gave earlier, it was nice to not have to worry about getting totally soaked on your way to the Last Round. It didn’t really bother you really as even while it was still raining on you , you felt so proud of yourself that not much could bother you.

There were rumors of another group like the Brotherhood of the 9th Circle was popping up again. Remembering how much trouble they caused you were all resolved to find out where they were, if the rumors were true, and stopping them before such a big risk to the masquerade occurs again.

Something else you knew from the last time they were around was that if this truly was the 9th Circle or even something similar, they weren’t something to be taken lightly. After the bits and pieces that Damsel had seen herself, the aftermath the others saw when they were making sure that the group was truly gone for good, and what you had witnessed and dealt with firsthand, most everyone agreed that dealing with this new group was at least a two person job. Even if it was just some petty, copycat group, it was better to be safe than sorry.

That was, everyone except you.

You insisted that you could handle at least getting information about the group by yourself, then simply get help for fighting them off, if that was even necessary. After all, you had handled the first situation almost completely by yourself.

This was an idea that Nines shut down immediately. Now that Camarilla in the area were a bit more scrambled and unorganized than they once were, he had more time and attention to actually focus on some other things. Learning what he had about the whole 9th Circle incident, it was one of the only things he actually regretted not putting more of his attention into at the time. A single vampire spreading disease can be a pain; a whole cult devoted to it was dangerous. Things could have turned out much worse if that group was a little more organized. That was something that he was not going to risk this time.

As much as they would verbally deny it, around the Round, what Nines said was practically law. So, when he straight out forbade you from doing anything yet, everyone else just assumed that was the end of that. Afterwards, Nines watched you like a hawk as he knew how stubborn you could be, every so often giving you a glare that silently said, “Don’t even think about it.”

You were patient if nothing else and waited a few night after your disagreement for him to let his guard down. Earlier tonight, instead of joining him as he made his way to the bar you had told him that you had some things that you needed to do beforehand. Nines gave you the look once more and warned, “Behave yourself,” before going his way.

Of course once you were sure that he wasn’t going to turn back and check on you, you went straight to where the rumors said the strange group had last been sighted. You weren’t concerned about being cornered or anything like that as it seemed to be in a pretty well known park, and it was still early enough in the night that there were plenty of humans still awake, meaning that even if there were members of the cult there they either wouldn’t attack with that many witnesses around or they might not even realize you weren’t just someone out for an evening stroll.

While it wasn’t impossible for them to be involved with a group of kindred, it wasn’t as likely. Even if they were, there was no way that they would give any of you much trouble if push came to shove. Without wanting to act without more information, as well as not totally going against what Nines had said, you decide to head back to the Last Round. The thought that Nines was going to be at least a bit upset with you did cross your mind, but you figured that getting information would help cool his temper.

It didn’t take long to find this supposed group’s hide out: a stereotypical abandoned bathroom covered in graffiti. You risked taking a peek inside one of the small windows at the top of the little building. What you saw made you have to hold back a laugh. It was just a group of kids, if they were out of high school it must have just happened this past school year. From the little looks you could risk without getting caught or slipping on the little ledge slick with rainfall you were standing on, it just looked like they were hiding out here to sneak whatever delinquency they could think to try.

Things seemed normal when you got to the Round; hardly anyone even noted you coming in a few hours past when you usually did. It made sense as you all had things that you had to get done most nights, so they all must have assumed that you were off on some sort of job or another. You checked in with Damsel and Skelter to let them know you had gotten there, before heading upstairs. It seemed like Nines wasn’t there at first, but you eventually saw him brooding in a corner table. It seemed something put him in a bad mood… better save your confession for later.

Later wouldn’t come, however, as the moment that he saw you his eyes narrowed and he nodded his head toward the chair next to him to tell you to come over and sit down. Hoping to do anything to put him in a better mood for the sake of everyone else here, you complied and started thinking about ways to cheer him up. You sat and rested your arms on the table. Nines was quick to grab one of your hands, an attention getting action rather than a romantic one.

“Where were you?” He asked firmly.

You shrugged off the question like it wasn’t serious. “I just had something I wanted to do earlier.”

His hold tightened on your hand in warning. “Where were you?” He asked once more, not really needing you to answer, but giving you the chance to; his Bruja temper looking like it was about to boil over any second.

He knew. You knew that he knew. There was rarely a time where he would be pushy with you, and that you would avoid giving him a direct answer. Both of your reactions to each other said it loud and clear: you did exactly what Nines had asked you not to.

“Home. Now!” He growled into your ear as he stood you both up with a firm hold on your shoulders and practically dragged you through the bar and out the door. All the others didn’t get in his path- they didn’t even try to ask where the two of you were going. His anger was radiating so hotly off of him that anyone could feel it from a mile away.

Though he was by no means running, the two of you seemed to get back to your apartment faster than usual. Probably didn’t get caught in much foot traffic as everyone else was avoiding him for the same reasons the other Anarchs were. His hands only left your shoulders when he unlocked the door and slammed it shut behind you both. He didn’t look at you for a good few minutes, only standing where he was after slamming the door, heaving breaths tensing his chest and shoulders.

“Nines, I-“

“No!” He snaps. “You keep your mouth shut!”

In the back of his mind he knows that he will regret being so harsh later, but at the moment his anger, his disappointment was winning out. Not wanting to have this discussion by the front door where anyone could hear it, he lead you back to the bedroom.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Nines scolded. “We had decided not to do anything yet!”

“You had decided not to do anything.” You interjected, you own anger growing by this point.

“And, everyone else agreed! You don’t get to just run around and do whatever the fuck you want!” He yelled, causing you to dig in your heels.

“And, you don’t get to control my whole life!” You replied in kind.

The was an almost animalistic growl in his chest. “I’m not trying to control you!” Nines corrected. “I’m trying to keep you from getting hurt, or worse killed! You should know by now our kinda world doesn’t fuck around!”

You scoffed at him acting like you were still green and unable to fend for yourself. “Well, aren’t you the brave hero!” You sneer. “It was just a bunch of kids doing drugs! I’ve handled far worse!”

Nines eyes narrowed as he asked, “Yeah? And, what if it wasn’t?” His rage turning into a quiet one.

“Like I just said, I’ve handled worse. I took care of the 9th Circle perfectly fine by myself! It wouldn’t have been different this time!”

“You got lucky then!” He scolded once more. “There was so much that could have happened to you back then! What if it did? What if-“ Nines gave a frustrated huff and sat almost dejectedly on the bed, “What if something happened to you tonight?”

You knew from the somber tone his voice shifted to that even though he might be upset with you he was also upset with himself for not stopping you from trying something potentially dangerous. In a similar way, you were upset with him, but also with yourself for breaking his trust.

You walked over to the bed and sat next to him, resting you head on his chest. Nines was quick to wrap his arms around you and pull you closer. You both sat there like that, you being soothed by his familiar scents from his clothes and cologne, and him grounding himself to the reality that you were fine by resting head on yours and placing the odd kiss or two every few minutes.

“Nines, I’m sorry.” You sigh out eventually when the silence and your conscience got too heavy to bear anymore.

“Me too, babe.” He hummed and placed another kiss to the top of your head. “Just never do something that stupid again, alright?”

You nodded your head and snuggled more into his chest. “I love you.” You breathed out more than spoke, relieved that this argument was over.

“I love you too.” Nines assured you, but then disquieted you by adding, “which is why…”

You were suddenly pushed belly-down onto the bed, Nines sitting by your side and using one of his hands to press on your back and hold you down.

“I can’t let you get away with being a brat.” He finished his thought from before he manhandled you. His other hand started to smooth up you leg as he continued. “A brat that needs to get a reminder to show me respect.”

You knew exactly what you were in for when his wandering hand stopped at the top of your upper thigh. Nines confirmed it when he leaned down, nipped the top of your ear, and then promised in a husky whisper, “By the time I’m done with you tonight, your ass is going to be so raw you won’t be able to sit right for a week.”

You shutter in nervous anticipation. Nines placed a kiss to your jaw and asked, “Hand or belt?”