#they’re happy and content and just !!! they’re the only two that exist in the whole world at this moment

[gaytedlasso]

you’re my everything

[justauthoring]

jerk.

because bakugou katsuki is a jerk but he's also unfortunately your soulmate.

a/n: wooooooohhhhh i love soulmate aus so much omg

pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader

part two. part three.

You’ve known he was your soulmate from the first day at U.A. 

When he’d bumped into you, steaming with anger in that way he regularly was and had spat at you; “move it, extra, or i’ll make you” – and you’d known then because those were the words written across you hip since you’d turn five and it had manifested with your quirk.

Because that was how the world was. Nowadays, it was odd to find someone without a quirk and even harder to find someone without a soulmate and you’d grown up your whole life having those awful words written on your skin. Had grown up knowing that for whatever reason, the soulmate you’d been given didn’t say warm, intimate words to you or even just simply generic words. Your friends had always had such nice sentences from their soulmates, with pretty words or a happy greeting.

And in yours you’d been called an extra.

Whatever the hell that meant.

You’ve never been excited to meet your soulmate. Not once. Not when you were five, or eight or twelve or when you started noticing people in a way you hadn’t before, more romantically. Not when you started maturing and growing up. Those words glared at you every time you stared at them and you didn’t want a single thing to do with your soulmate.

Not ever.

That is only doubled when you realize who your soulmate is. Maybe there was always a small part of you that hoped the words were misunderstood; you’d make scenarios up in your head about how those words could be teasing or even just a misunderstanding. 

When they’re spat at you by an intimidating blonde man that looks like there’s actual steam pouring from his ears, with piercing red eyes that cut into you like you’d done some horrible thing to deserve his anger… you understand then that they weren’t teasing and they aren’t a misunderstanding. They’re cruel and they’re mean and dismissive and hurtful and every horrible thing piled together by a man who is even worse beyond just his first words to you.

So you make it your goal that he never finds out you’re his soulmate in return.

You avoid him. Desperately. You’re barely a person in his own head so it isn’t all that hard to do. Even as the rest of the class grows closer and bonds, it seems Bakugou is just as content to ignore everyone else as you are to be ignored by him. Sure, some worm their way into his heart, like Kirishima or Midoriya and Shoto, but nobody else really seemed to matter. At least, you didn’t. You had the same friends, you were in the same class, and eventually, you ended up sleeping in the same building. 

You saw him everyday. You ate in the same kitchen and relaxed in the same living room. You trained in the same gym and overall, were consistently near each other. But you didn’t speak to him and he’d never tried to speak to you after that first day. Months pass and it continues on this way and you’re sure he doesn’t even know what your name is.

Or that you really even exist.

And you’re happy with that.

Content.

Because while the idea of a soulmate was romantic and heartwarming and something you dreamed about, him being your soulmate sounds horrible.

And it was best he just never even knew.

He was so focused on becoming number one, you’re not sure he even cares about finding his. 

Which is fine. Works better for you in the end.

-

“Y/L/N and Bakugou. You two are teamed up for combat practice today.”

You freeze at Aizawa-sensei’s words, body tensing as your eyes instantly shoot towards Bakugou. He’s already looking at you, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed as he lets his eyes drag across you; it’s clear he’s assessing you. Maybe trying to remember your name or if he’s ever seen you before.

It wouldn’t surprise you if he was.

Somehow, in all your months of being in the same class as Bakugou, you’ve never once been partnered up with him for anything. You think once you may have been put in a group with him, but that was with several others so it'd been easy enough to avoid him.

One on one though? That was going to be harder.

Way harder.

“Good luck,” Mina calls from beside you, squeezing your shoulder before she moves to meet up with her partner; it looks like she’d gotten Jirou. Lucky. 

Watching everyone else disperse tells you that you can’t just stand there like an idiot anymore. You take a deep breath, ignoring the nerves that course through you as you make your way over to Bakugou. As you make contact with him again, you realize he’s not moving; obviously he expects you to come to him.

Jerk.

When you reach him, the two of you just stare at each other and since you’re certainly not going to speak first, there’s a moment of awkward silence before Bakugou grunts; “ready?”

You nod and he isn’t confused by your silence so the two of you walk off to an open area in the gym. He stands across from you, gives you a look and then is racing towards you. You’re not sure why Aizawa-sensei teams you up with Bakugou because your quirks definitely don’t mesh well together and it’s clear Bakugou is stronger, but you’re able to hold up well enough on your own.

You even manage to land a hit on Bakugou once that clearly surprises him and you take it as a win.

And a little payback for being such an ass.

Then, when the class is over and you’ve promptly been knocked on your ass in return, you’re surprised to see a hand stretched out in front of you, invitingly. You blink, eyes drifting upwards only to meet Bakugou’s as he stares down at you. He’s not smiling and he doesn’t look all that friendly, but he nods his head in recognition.

“Good job.”

The words are such a shock your brain short circuits for a minute. Not only are the words the nicest thing you’ve ever heard Bakugou say (which is saying a lot) but his voice wasn’t gruff or aggressive like it normally is–it was… soft, almost? Maybe not soft but… normal. Just… calm.

Your heart is lurching at the sound before you even realize and then you’re pushing yourself up to your feet, basically smacking his hand out of the way and running out of the room without another word.

-

After that, Bakugou doesn’t seem to leave you alone.

He’s everywhere.

And not everywhere in the way he had been before. He’s not there in passing or just across the room from you, he’s asking to train with you or deliberately making sure he’s the only one left for you to partner with. He seems to always be in the kitchen when you want to eat or in the living room when you want to vedge after a long day.

He’s constantly there.

Not to mention, gone are his glares or looks of indifference. He’s always looking at you, making sure you know he knows you’re there; even if the two of you are in class or with a group of classmates. He makes note of acknowledging you. The others seem to notice too because the girls start asking what you did to get Bakugou’s attention and you promptly tell them you have no idea.

Of course, they don’t know Bakugou’s your soulmate so they don’t really get the scope of your panic. And it’s not that you don’t trust them, especially after all you’d been through as a class, but more because the less that knew, the less likely Bakugou was to know.

But now? Now it was getting hard to avoid him and it was even harder not to say something without it looking obvious why you weren’t.

You were promptly fucked.

You are able to stall it for all of two weeks before you’re cornered by Bakugou.

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

Your wide eyes fall on him, not only shocked by his presence but panicked by his words because there were few things a sentence like that could mean. 

A quick glance around tells you there’s no way to get past him without Bakugou being able to block him and since it had already been made clear that he was in fact stronger than you, you knew there was no escape. Everyone else was gone since you’d snuck out of training to grab a bite to eat and it seemed like Bakugou had snuck out the same to follow you.

So yeah, you were screwed.

Bakugou lets out a huff at your silence and he takes another step towards you, further crowding you and you swallow thickly when he steps into your personal space. You move to walk back but then your back is pressing against the wall of the kitchen and Bakugou is completely shrouding you, it's hard to look anywhere but at him.

“Do you think I don’t know why you won’t speak to me?”

Inhaling sharply, you turn your head to the right, determined to avoid his steely red eyes that feel like they’re piercing into your very soul. You focus on the handle to the cupboard to your right and try to ignore the growl he lets out in response.

He takes another step forward and suddenly he’s inches apart, close enough you can feel his breath drift across your skin, warm to the touch.

“It wasn’t hard to figure out after you ran from me that day when we were partnered up,” Bakugou continues. “Especially when I started to realize you’ve never talked to me. And then? Avoiding me for the last two weeks? It’s not hard to figure out.”

You halt, freezing, waiting for the words—

“You’re my soulmate.”

You refuse to look at him. You won’t look at him. 

Maybe if you just ignore him, he’ll go away. He’ll just… leave. He doesn’t like being ignored, that much you’ve gathered and so if you just refuse to–

Suddenly his hands are on your arms and his chest is against yours and he’s way too close. “Hey,” he huffs, “look at me.”

You don’t listen. Even as you tense beneath his grip, you refuse to do anything, to give him any sort of reaction. If you give him a reaction, he’ll get what he wants. And you’re not thinking straight. You need to just wait, wait until he’s bored and then you can think—figure this out because surely–

“Y/L/N,” he calls and you’re surprised he even knows your name, “look at me. Hey. I’m right, aren’t I? Why else wouldn't you fucking looking at me.” You continue to remain silent and Bakugou lets out a low growl. “Fucks sake. I’m not leaving until you say something so you might as well—”

“—I’m not saying anything to you because you’re a jerk!”

Well, that certainly could’ve gone better.

The words leave your lips before you even realize you’ve said them. The second you’re done, your chest is heaving and you finally turn your head, eyes snapping to Bakugou’s, fearing his reaction at your rather blunt and rude words.

But, a second later, instead of being angry like you’d expected, Bakugou starts… laughing.

You’re not sure you’ve ever seen the boy laugh, certainly not that genuinely. His lips are parted and his eyes have squeezed shut and the laugh that leaves his lips is pure and genuine and loud and it’s so unlike anything you’ve ever heard from him you’re stunned stupid as you stare back at him with your lips left parted, jaw slacked.

As his laughter fades, Bakugou meets your gaze.

“I’ve been waiting to hear those words for years,” he starts, still smiling–actually smiling this time. Not a smirk. But an affectionate grin. “Wasn’t sure what I did to deserve those words, but it seems fitting.”

Blinking, once, twice, you sputter, snapped out of your stupor. “I–I… You jerk!”

“I think we’ve established that already, babe.”

You barely even notice the nickname. If it wasn’t for the way your heart races at the sound, you’re sure your stupefied mind wouldn’t have caught it because seriously, what the hell?

“You… this is exactly why I didn’t want to say anything!” You cry out, not sure if you’re defending yourself for him or more for yourself. Why are you even defending yourself? And what against? “You’re insufferable. And rude. And cocky. And a jerk.”

Bakugou just snorts. “What are your words?” He asks, smile fading slightly as his expression turns more serious; almost solemn. Regretful. “Must’ve been bad if you had to avoid me.”

You’re surprised by the guilt in his tone, but it gives you the confidence to answer. “‘Move it, extra, or I’ll make you’,” you mumble, fiddling with your hands. “You said it the first day we started here at U.A.”

“Shit,” Bakugou curses, running a hand through his hair. “So you’ve been avoiding me for months?”

Your eyes flick to his before lowering and that gives him his answer.

He shifts. “L-Listen… uh, sorry about… about cornering you like this.”

Blinking, you tilt your head up. You’re shocked to see a red tinge to his cheeks. 

“I just needed to know,” he finishes explaining. “And I’m sorry about that shit I said to you. My soulmate doesn’t deserve that crap but I can’t take it back, so I’ll just make sure I make up for it.”

You’re positive now that you’re hallucinating this whole thing.

“What?”

He blinks down at you at your screech before smirking.

“Well, I mean, as we get to know each other,” he says, like it’s obvious. “I’m shit with words but I’ll try for you. I'm good with showing though,” and he looks a little too pleased with himself.

But you can barely focus on the very blatant meaning of his words, you're still trying to catch up. “You…” and you hesitate, not sure if you’re hearing this correctly. “You want to get to know me?”

And he looks at you like you’re dumb.

“Duh,” he shrugs, “you’re my soulmate.”

“What about being number one?”

“What about it?” he argues, shaking his head. “That’ll still happen. You think I can’t do that while also dating you?”

Your eyes widen; “dating?”

“Yeah,” he says, again like you’re dumb. He takes a step towards you, once again closing the gap between you and his hands falling on your waist, pulling a gasp from your lips at the touch that causes him to smirk, as if proud. “You’re my soulmate. Of course we’re going to date.”

“I barely know you!”

“That’s why we’ll get to know each other.”

You just stare up at him.

“You really are insufferable,” is what you manage to say in the end, exasperated. Your shoulders fall and your body sags but you don’t pull away from his touch and even if you’re not fully aware of it, you’re pretty sure you end up leaning into him.

“You’ll learn to love it,” he shrugs, still grinning. “Now, let’s go back to training. We need to work on your defense.”

Blinking, you turn to him as he shifts the both of you, guiding you forwards. “Hey!”

“What,” he shrugs down at you. “It’s true. You were barely able to block my hits when we fought.”

You can’t find the words to say so you simply let him lead you along, trying to ignore the way his hands make your skin tingle and your heart race. Or, really, the way that despite everything, you really don’t mind.

If anything, you actually like it.

Fuck—he really is a jerk.

[dekariosclan]

My favorite Gale lines that I will never, ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER choose

…because they involve breaking up/hurting Gale and I am not strong enough for that 😮‍💨

Credit to the YouTubers who WERE strong enough and who posted these vids publicly for all to see: Copperspoon, BearRhi and Yaren Allena

I wanted to share for anyone who hasn’t seen these lines, because they are so heartbreakingly sweet, and they’re such a great glimpse into how deeply Gale loves Tav and how important commitment is to him. For my fellow Galemancers who are unable to select the ‘mean options’, this post is for you! Angst ahead (but worry not, I promise the end of this post will be uplifting)

So in Act II, when you are in the ‘flirting’ stage with the companions, if you find yourself romantically involved with someone else alongside Gale, you’ll get this dialogue, where he asks you to choose:

If you select the option that indicates you’d like to have a relationship with them both, Gale will respond very similarly to how he does if you ask about opening up your relationship to Halsin in Act III:

Gale: I’m sorry, but to know I had less than the whole of your heart - I can’t do it. Not when I would give all of myself to you. Call me greedy, stubborn, old-fashioned…but I cannot change who I am, or how I love. In any case, know that I harbor no ill will. I would rather see you happy with another, than not happy at all.

I love his first two sentences so much, because they really do sum up how Gale views your relationship: when he says he loves you, he loves you, and he is all-in. He gives his entire heart to you and he only asks that you do the same in return.

But also, look at how sweet and selfless he is, not harboring anger here even if you are considering ending the relationship. And, as if his lines above didn’t hurt enough, IF you are somehow strong enough to go through with the breakup, you can ask Gale if he hates you. And he says this:

Gale: I could no more hate you than I could go without air.

🫠😭😩 WHO CAN GO THROUGH WITH BREAKING UP HE IS THE SWEETEST MAN IN EXISTENCE HONEST TO GOD

Are you still with me? Is your heart obliterated? Hang on, we aren’t done. During your initial conversation you could also choose this option, stating you didn’t realize how strongly he felt:

And then Gale will respond with this:

Gale: Perhaps I should have done more. Been more charming, more flattering, harder to reach…but I was only myself, and sometimes that isn’t enough.

💔 This is especially heartbreaking, not only because of how Gale already feels like he’s ‘not enough’ after his failed relationship with Mystra, but ALSO, if you consider the exact words he says when he declares his endless devotion to Tav in the Act III alternate boat scene:

Gale: You see me as I am, and do not find me wanting. With these stars as my witness, I swear—you will always be enough for me.

You can see just how much it means to him.

😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

OKAY. If you have made it this far, time for some relief. All of the above dialogue aside, if you when you immediately come to your senses and realize NO OF COURSE YOU WON’T BREAK UP WITH GALE, HOW COULD ANYONE EVER DO THAT you simply tell him you’ve chosen him and, after he very sweetly expresses his concern for the other companions’s feelings, he will proclaim his relief and unwavering love for you:

Gale: I am beyond lucky to have you. Sometimes even the power of the Weave seems mundane, compared to how you make me feel.

❤️❤️❤️

Now, go forth my fellow Galemancers, never think of this post again, be content in the knowledge that you made the right choice in choosing Gale, and kiss that wizard with tongue because HE DESERVES IT.

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

This doesn’t get a title because I’m confused

Disclaimers: The only character I own is the reader insert!

Author’s Notes: I think I got possessed, I don’t even like Sam 😭 like in the slightest 😭

But pretend season 8ish Sam has season 2-3’s hair for the sake of that’s the season I’m on lol.

Icons by @gosling-girlx !! She’s a genius!

Anyway, all notes are appreciated!

Content/Content Warnings: 18+ ONLY! Minors do not interact, this is NOT for you.

This fic is extremely spicy, sort of can’t-stand-each-other sex. Reader’s AFAB & uses she/her pronouns, only physical description is of her being shorter than Sam. There’s oral (both m and f receiving) and unprotected piv which frankly only exists in the books- wrap it before you tap it!! Oh also they’re both pretty mean to each other… you’ll see.

Again, I think I got possessed when I made it-I sincerely can’t stand him- but hope you enjoy it!

**************************************************** Working with the Winchester Brothers is a gig like no other. Cas and I are more tagalongs in the operation these days, Cas demoted to resident healer and I to stay at home mom, apparently.

One accident (authors note: one possession & a year long recovery for a spinal injury retained from said possession) had apparently rendered me useless to the boys. It’s not all bad- I’m relatively close with the older one, Dean, since we’re both hoes for a good time and good movies/music. And before the accident, I was happy to kill evil sons-of-bitches with Dean any day of the week.

And of course, Castiel is a right sweetheart- showing him new human things is the sweetest experience in the whole wide world.

But you know what ruins the laughs and the nice moments? The younger brother. Sam “Little Shit” Winchester.

I don’t know how he found himself upon the moral pedestal he crafted for himself, but lord I want to remove his kneecaps and slap him with them. Little baby giraffe looking shit.

I don’t like the way he acts, plain and simple. Between the way that he treats Dean and the way that he talks so condescendingly to me- I’m about two seconds from starting a fight every time we’re in a room together for too long. He seems to feel the same way. It’s helpful in a hunt- both of us are smart enough to concentrate that anger towards our monster of the week instead of each other in the field- but now, when there’s no field to take the anger out on? Dean’s had to break up at least 3 almost-fights, and I’ve only been back on my feet for a couple months.

***

The boys looked especially pissy coming home today- they’d grumbled something about a “stupid fucking vampire bitch,” and went their separate ways, Sam to the med bay and Cas trailing Dean like a golden retriever.

Great. Looks like I’m on Douchebag Duty.

***

“What’s your problem?” Sam snaps as I tug the thread on his stitches a little too roughly.

“My problem, you dick? I’m the one that’s stitching you up right now, why don’t I just let you bleed out?” I retort, yanking on the surgical needle with the string attached to a particularly nasty cut on his upper arm. Cut’s an understatement- it’s really a bullet wound. I’m just too proud to have pity for the jackass.

“Yeah, your problem!”

I set down the needle at that, my fists clenched at my sides. “You’re a whiny little bitch who can’t sit still and shut the fuck up for two minutes! That’s my problem.”

“I think you’re a little too high and mighty there, princess,” he scowls, standing up to full height, presumably so that he can use his stature to literally look down at me.

“Yeah? Look who’s talking, Mr Morals,” I seethe, staring up at him. I snatch the needle, on my tiptoes, and hastily finish the stitching on his scar, while standing up.

“Out,” I spit as I cut the thread.

“No,” he retorts, glancing down at me through long lashes and stupidly overgrown bangs.

“What? Is five minutes away from your big head too much to ask?” my hands are on my hips. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of staring up at him, so I stare at whatever’s eye level. He’s wearing a bloodied white tank top, which is not doing much for the whole vibe we’ve got going on right now.

He bites his lower lip, still looking down through his annoyingly long lashes. And my dumb ass is attracted to it, apparently.

“Get. Out,” I say, anger laced in my words.

“No,” he says through clenched teeth. I start to turn away, as if giving up, before pulling a Dean Winchester and turning back around on my heel, punching him in the abdomen. He grunts, keeling over. “Ow!”

“You should’ve listened, you ass,” I say, looking down at him. He looks pathetic, his eyes gone wide and pretty in pain. I shouldn’t be into this, not one bit.

Keeled over, Sam is at eye level. Our gazes lock, his hazel eyes boring holes into mine, searching for something. I don’t dare waver, looking back at him with just as much intensity until he surprises me, leaning in and crashing his lips to mine. He roughly grabs my face, holding me close as he forces his tongue into my mouth, exploring. I hate how easily I give him access, I hate the way I let out a gasp against my will. By the time he pulls away I’m already leaning back in. He smirks, humoring me for one more kiss.

“How do you like me now?” he says cockily, lips plush and pink from the kisses, hazel eyes blown out by lust.

“I don’t,” I mutter, pushing him back so that he’s forced to sit on the med bay bed. His legs are spread wide, and of course I fit perfectly between them, much to my distaste. I kiss his jawline, using mostly my teeth so that it scratches as I go, especially once I start on his neck, biting and sucking dark marks everywhere I see fit. He’s into it, little breathy whimpers further fueling my unfortunate attraction to him.

“Take off your shirt,” I tell him, stepping back and smirking at how this time he leans into my touch instead of the other way around. He thoughtlessly pulls the hem of the ruined fabric over his head, throwing it to the side, exposing an obnoxiously fit physique and an anti possession tattoo. There’s little scars everywhere, and something deep down urges me to kiss every single one of them, but that can be later.

“Take off yours,” he tells me.

“Why?” I ask, trying to play smart.

“Cause if I have to be shirtless you do too,” he says.

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“Better think of a better retort next time, Winchester,” I say as I take off the oversized concert tee I had been wearing.

“Bra too,” he orders, cocking his head to the side as he looks me over.

“Who made you the boss?” I ask, already unclasping my bra.

“I did,” he says, far too cocksure.

“We’ll see about that,” I grin, letting the lacy fabric fall to the ground as I lean in to kiss his damnable hot mouth. This time I take control, taking pride in the little noises he makes.

“I’m gonna suck your dick,” I say crudely, not bothering with pleasantries.

“Go right on ahead,” and I can tell there was meant to be spite behind those words, but it quickly fades away into sighs as I start kissing down his pecs, his abs, lightly scratching anywhere I can find with my nails. I hate how hot the heat between my thighs is, but at this point, I can’t help it, especially as I sink to my knees, nose perfectly level with his crotch.

I take his belt into my hands, grazing over the obvious tent that lies underneath it. He throws his head back at that, biting back a curse.

“What’s the matter Sammy?” I tease.

“Shut up,” he grumble, words morphing into a proper moan as I graze over the tent again.

“Uh huh,” I agree, tugging off his leather belt and yanking down the zipper of his jeans.

“Boxers? I had taken you for a ‘Tighty Whities’ girl, Sammy,” I mused, doing my best to work him up even more.

“Sto-,” he starts, immediately losing his words as I free his cock from his confines, pulling his boxers down to his knees.

You know, just cause a guy’s a big guy doesn’t always mean that everything’s proportionate. Sam’s six foot five-ish, long and lanky with lean muscle. And naturally, because everything about him is meant to spite me, his dick also fits the physical bill. My mouth waters, and the only prospect that excites my overly-horny self more than having it in my mouth is having it in my slick soaked pussy. And I will, if I have anything to say about it.

“Oh Sammy, you’re a big boy, huh,” I taunt, running a hand up and down his shaft slowly. He moans in agreement, no more fight left in him. It’s too easy.

I let go of it, ignoring the bead of pre cum leaking down as I move to kiss his thighs, grazing my teeth on them like I did on his neck. He seems to like it, legs moving in towards my mouth. Finally I move my mouth towards where he obviously wants me most, rubbing the bead over his tip with my thumb. I’m a little wary about taking the whole thing, but I’m sure as hell going to try.

I start simple, kitten lips around the base, licking a long stripe up the underside before wrapping my lips around the head, and he moans, a little too loudly. I brace my hands on his thighs before taking a deep breath through my nose and forcing myself down far enough that my nose is touching neatly trimmed hair. Thankfully my gag reflex is still gone-it’s been a minute- as I hold him there for a moment, before starting to bob my head up and down, testing the waters. He whimpers and whines, and it’s pathetic, and I’m far too into it, unable to do much else than keep up my ministrations.

One of his big hands find the back of my head, fingers weaving into my hair. I don’t think he does so with intent of forcing me to move, but the idea is so hot that I lock eyes with him with my mouth on his cock.

“What? You want me to fuck your mouth?” he asks, panting. And once he says it out loud I get impossibly wetter, and I moan yes, unable to nod at all with him buried as far as he’ll go.

“Damn, you’re a slut,” he grins, and I moan in agreement before he starts moving my head slowly. Forward and back, forward and back, before I lock eyes with him and he gets the hint to take it harder, hips starting to thrust meeting my throat as his hands push. I just keep sucking, doing my best not to choke as involuntary tears leak out. But it doesn’t hurt, not at all. If anything I’m just doing all I can to not start rubbing on my own sensitive spots.

Before I know it his whimpers get louder and his whines get needier, and he grits out “I- I’m going to-“

So I release him with a pop, taking a hand and rubbing up and down his length furiously before he bursts. Once he does, with the most pathetic whimper yet, I get my mouth right back on him, taking every drop of his hot release down my throat. When he’s done I stay there, opening his mouth so he can see that there’s nothing there.

“God, you’re such a slut,” he mutters, echoing what he said before as he catches his breath and pulls me up by the hair- gently.

I shrug cockily, moving back as he stands up.

“Strip and have a seat,” he lazily demands as he puts his perfect cock away.

I roll my eyes but comply, taking off my remaining clothes so that I’m left in all my glory.

“You’re gorgeous, y’know that?” he compliments, a moment of tenderness as he crowds me against the bed so that I’ll take a seat. I blush, letting him hoist me up so that my ass is on the edge of the dinghy bed. “My turn,” he grumbles, voice low and hot against the column of my neck. He’s even rougher than I was, nipping at every square inch of skin that he meets, sucking dark marks down the side of my neck and over the tops of my breasts. I’m like a bitch in heat, responding to every touch in ways I can’t control- pornographic moans, leaning into his touch. He’s pulling on my hair to give himself more access, and I’m starting to worry that I’m soaking the bed. His mouth continues to work wonders, especially as he travels southwards, playing with my breasts.

He’s mean, outright biting the one and pinching the other, and it’s just what I need. I tangle my hands into his annoyingly long hair and tugging, not missing the way he moans into my chest.

Finally, finally, he gets down on his knees. He rests his chin on the bed, breath heavy on my heat. The sight of his head pillowed on my thighs as he looks up at me with those puppy dog, blown out eyes is enough to get me to come on the spot.

“This all f’me, princess?” he asks roughly, collecting some of the gratuitous wetness on two long, thick fingers.

“N-no,” I stammer, clutching his hair tighter. He bites back his moan in favor of a smug grin.

“N-no,” he mocks, turning to the side to bite the inside of my thigh, and I whine. “Uh huh, that’s what I thought.” His nose is eye level with my clit, and the only warning I get before he dives into my pussy is a small smirk that meets his hazel eyes.

“Fuck!”

He moans in between my thighs, setting my entire body on fire. I try to wiggle away from him, but it only takes one big, strong hand to hold my hips in place as he fucks his tongue into me, his nose rubbing on my puffy clit. It’s wet and it’s gross, but so, so hot.

He’s a little too good, knowing all the buttons to press that leave me tracking wetness all over his face, before taking two fingers and roughly pushing them into my core, giving me no time to adjust. They’re thick and long, and when he makes the come hither motion I know I’m fucked, doing everything I can not to gasp his name.

“S-s-oh my god,” I cry as he plunges his fingers all the way down to the knuckle every time, reaching deeper and deeper and rubbing on my g-spot. He’s too busy sucking on my clit to say anything, his attention overstimulating.

He adds a third finger, and that, combined with him tracing patterns on my sensitive bud, sends me straight over the edge with a an unintelligible cry.

Of course the bastard doesn’t stop, not until I’m physically shaking from the overstimulation, legs quivering, and on the brink of a second release.

He removes himself from my heat, laying his cheek on the inside of my thigh, looking up at me smugly.

“Good, huh?” he knows it was.

“Fuck you,” I mutter, voice weak.

“That’s what I’m getting to, princess. So impatient,” he taunts, standing up to full height again. Sam haphazardly wipes the slick off of his face with his forearm, not really caring how much he removes. He kicks off his shoes and socks before taking off his slacks and boxers in one go, revealing that gorgeous cock again. He stands before me, looking like some kinda statue of physical perfection. I have to physically close my jaw looking at him.

“Like what you see, princess?”

I stick out my tongue and blow a raspberry.

“Real mature, sweetheart,” he rolls his eyes. “You have a condom?”

I shake my head. “Don’t need one, I’m on the pill and I have morning after. Want you to fuck me and fill me,” I tell him honestly.

“God you’re a slut and you’re freaky? I’d never have guessed,” he mused, stepping between my thighs. I assume he’s clean as well since he doesn’t really… get out much.

“Yeah, that’s cause you’re not the brightest,” I tell him, scooting as close to the edge as I can without falling.

“Uh huh,” he says sarcastically, before picking me up and slamming my shoulder into a nearby wall, yet gently resting my back against it. Gentle with my injury, wow. Wouldn’t have expected it. I gasp, surprised by the sudden motion.

“Payback for the gut punch,” he explains.

“Oh yeah? I’ll punch you again if you don’t fuck me,” I say, a mean edge to my voice.

“Mkay,” he says, obviously not swaying either way as he aligns his tip with my entrance.

“Fuck me,” I order through a gasp, unable to wait anymore.

“Careful what you wish for there, princess,” he warns, before sheathing himself in me in one go.

Look, I can get laid whenever I want, especially back when I was on duty as a hunter. I’m no stranger to sex, and I have a decently high sex drive. If I can’t get some, then I always have backup- toys and vibrators, you name it.

But Sam? His dick was big in my mouth, but in my pussy? I feel like I’ve been split in two, my mouth is dropped in an o. But it feels so, so good.

“Move,” I demand after a few moments of adjusting.

“Say my name,” he cocks his head, pushing impossibly deeper so that he’s practically touching my cervix.

“Sammy,” I say with as much sass as I can muster, my voice high from the added pressure. I know he hates the nickname, it makes him feel like a baby. Because he is one.

“Nuh uh, princess. Say my name,” the pad of his thumb flits over my clit.

“Unh- Sam!” I moan, unable to stop myself.

“That wasn’t so hard, now was it? Now ask me to fuck you. Nicely.”

“No.”

“Guess I’ll be on my way then,” he starts pulling out.

“No!” I whine.

“Ask nicely.”

“Sam, fuck me please?” I ask with as much sweetness and doe eyes as possible for me.

“You really are sweet when you’re horny,” he remarks, pulling back, before setting a brutal pace that has me raking my nails across his back and moaning his stupid name. He’s pounding into me with all of his might, sweat sheening on his brow.

It’s so hard that I can barely get any words out, and I hate it, but it just feels too good.

And of course, Sammy has enough words for the both of us.

“Fucking you dumb, huh? Got such a big attitude until I’m in you, just needed this dick,” he says, laughing meanly as I involuntarily clench at his words.

“What? You like me being mean to you? You get wet every time we fight?” a particularly hard set of thrusts accompanies each of the words in his third rhetorical question. I moan, not even sure of the answer. Probably? Maybe? Gah.

“Look at you, taking it like a good slut. You’re so tight and wet, and it’s all f’me,” his raspy voice starts slurring with lust. He brings one of his hands between us, finding my swollen clit and rutting on it, tracing patterns just as he did before with his tongue.

“S-Sam, it’s too much-,” I cry, unable to handle the overstimulation.

“Good,” he grins wickedly, before upping the ante both in thrusts and in rutting, unraveling me into a mess in his arms. I cry his name, helpless as I come down for the second time.

“So soon?” he tuts, not slowing his pace.

“Sh-shut up- ah-,” is all I can say as he gets impossibly rougher, chasing his own release.

“Gotta finish the job, princess,” he stutters, before growing more and more erratic. He’s got me on edge again as he does so, but mercifully comes before I can. I feel his hot release in me, filling me up just a little too full with his dick that he hasn’t yet pulled out.

Eventually he wordlessly puts me down, fingers plugging our mixed release in me. I can’t even complain- him keeping me full is unfortunately kinda hot.

“So…” he starts, looking down at me.

“Get out,” I interrupt.

“No,” he says, not moving.

This is going to be a long afternoon.

****************************************************

“Did you guys finally get into a bout?” Dean asks as we walk (re: stumble) out of the med bay and into the kitchen where he and Cas are sitting playing Uno, Bon Jovi playing in the background. “Oh- oh.”

Yeah, it’s pretty obvious the fight we got into. There’s no hiding it, even if we had tidied up our hair or faces- there’s scratches and bruises everywhere. Whoops.

“Are you guys in need of healing?” Cas asks innocently as Sam and I sit down a chair apart.

“No, Cas… these are, uh, special bruises. The fun kind. And they’re everywhere, apparently… damn, Sammy.” Dean comments as he surveys his brother and I. Sam coughs, and I reach over to punch him from my seat away. He grunts, and then we all go quiet.

“So… all in favor of never talking about this?” I ask after an uncomfortably long uncomfortable silence.

“Aye,” say the brothers in unison. Cas also agrees after Dean elbows him. “Fantastic.”

[zhongrin]

the art of breathing normally

— or, the ways you make him breathless so effortlessly

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, childe, diluc, al haitham, wanderer, kaveh, kaeya

◇ tags ◇ fluff, angst, comfort, spoiler/hint of al haitham's character story 5

◇ a/n ◇ yes the title is taken from that one chapter title in “for better or worse” webtoon hehe i love dillon and cedric so much they’re cute

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

zhongli finds it hard to breathe (in a good way) when you wrap yourself around him in one way or another. you can drape your arms around his waist, nuzzle yourself against his side, or even jump up to koala-hug him (although he will still scold you lightly as he drops everything in his arms in favor to support you - he just doesn’t want you to get hurt.)

but his favorite has to be when you lace your fingers between his own (preferably gloveless) ones, before tightly squeezing, a pressure not enough to hurt but strong enough to leave tingles upon his skin, making the geo markings along his arms pulse and blink in happiness.

he just loves to be reminded and reassured that you’re here. you’re right here in front of him and you are here to stay. you’re here for him with your tender love and warm smile. and you’ll always be here, etched permanently in his heart, the most unyielding stone eroded in remembrance of your beautiful soul.

it was a spontaneous decision on your part when you slip into bed with al haitham and offered to read his book for him out loud instead tonight. he ponders over it for a bit and decides to relent, wanting to know what is it that made you so hooked on hearing him read his books audibly on normal days. your voice fills his senses as he settles onto his pillow, and his lips tug on the corners as you stumble upon difficult terms you’ve never heard before. he decides to show you mercy by telling you the correct pronunciation, and you thank him before continuing, as cheerful as ever, unashamed of your lack of knowledge - it’s one of the things he adores about you, he thinks. this happens several times, and as he relaxes, your lover found his gaze magnetically straying towards you, examining your features as you read.

al haitham’s lungs seizes momentarily when your words falter as you sensed his stare, a patient smile full of such love and adoration blooming on your expression like the freshest bloom of the padisarahs in the garden. a memory lost to time resurfaces in his mind, and he feels himself reliving the hazy scene behind his closed eyelids. he can’t explain it but it feels familiar and nostalgic, yet it’s also foreign and different. when he feels your hand worriedly caressing the stray tear on his cheek, he could only smiles and thinks to himself -

ah. so this is what a peaceful life feels like.

childe’s breath stutters when you kiss his nose or his eyelids. there’s something so adorable and intimate about those two specific places. like a forgotten childhood memory and the intricate vulnerability of allowing himself to be cherished and loved, to know that you won’t ever harm him despite him having his guard down. surprisingly, ajax doesn’t need a lavish display of love despite his repetitively showy endeavors in telling the whole world that you’re his. he’s already content with your soft giggles and tender touches, hidden behind doors and under the blankets in the cold starless sky of snezhnayan winters.

as the trained warrior that he is, he can last a good few minutes underwater, yet one simple kiss from you effectively diminishes his lung capacity, making him gasp and gulp for air, like a fish out of water. he can run for miles and keep his regular breathing pattern, yet a single notion of your well-being put in harm’s way makes his chest constrict and his breath fall into disarray. you’re the bane of his existence and the deity of salvation in his life.

you steal his breath away and with it, a piece of his cracked heart.

as cliche and boring as it was, kaveh’s breath escapes from his lungs whenever you visibly express yourself near him. he’s an empath to the core and he absolutely adores receiving the waves of your emotions like he’s some sentient radio transceiver who’s so attuned to your channel.

you could smile and he would follow, his chest constricting with incomprehensible joy as he drinks the light of happiness like a withered plant that hasn't seen sunlight in days. he loves to listen to your cheerful voice, like your own devoted transcriber, ready to commit your words and etch them into his soft and overwhelmingly big heart.

you could cry and he would bawl with you while holding you close, his lungs seizing with thorny vines that wrap and threaten to crush them to mush with each pearl of tears falling down the puffiness of your eyes. somehow the sight hits him harder than when the realization of his father not coming back hit him, or that time his mother told him she was going to move to fontaine and remarry - oh, it’s so much worse, because he’s holding his entire world in his arms, and he resonates with your bleeding heart.

kaeya would never admit to it but you would notice that his breath hitches whenever you yank his shirt to kiss him. he can try to deny it all he wants, but he finds your assertiveness hot - there’s just something about having you reaffirming how much you can affect him.

it used to irk him, actually - no one should have so much power over him. his life is already crumbling enough as it is, why would he want someone to shake it all up and potentially make it all crash down? and yet, throughout your relationship, he sees you fix the cracks, changes the rusted nails out, and solidifies his foundation. you’re so patient, your touch firm and gentle, and with each fissure healed he finds himself laughing breathlessly… and he lets go of his inhibitions. you can steal his marred heart away, and take his breaths too while you’re at it.

diluc finds his breathing spectacularly failing when your finger brushes against his nape as you help him tie his hair into a high ponytail. he still does not understand why you prefer this hairstyle, but he understands fully that the lack of air in his voice when you worriedly ask if you’ve tugged on his hair too hard is, in actuality, caused by how he wishes he could spend the rest of his life with you. to be with you, just like this, tranquil mornings full of domesticity and love, a replica of the little bits of memories he remembers of his late parents when they thought he was still asleep.

he’s so in love with you, he burns brighter in your presence, and he doesn’t even care if it uses up all the oxygen in his lungs; for he is sure his love for you is an eternal flame not born from the borrowed power of the gods, but from the deepest part of his heart.

wanderer has no need for these two specific atoms chemically bound to form an oxygen molecule that these weak humans seem to need lest they keel over and asphyxiate. and yet he still feels something compressing itself into an ever-consuming black hole within his hollow chest whenever you touch his white wooden skin with the most tender of touches as if he was something to be cherished. as if he was worthy of your presence. as if he was human. as if you truly love him.

ridiculous, he hisses and slaps your hand away every single time. his throat clogs and his lips purse, his vocal chord failing to enunciate how foolish you are, and the feeling got worse when he sees you merely chuckle at his ‘prickliness’.

you touch him again with the same hands five minutes later, and he struggles to squash the urge to smile.

© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @diebischesther | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades | @sup-zfam | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @nachotrash | @algrimmammon | @sassy-cat-in-town

[demigod-of-the-agni]

#LongPost: A Few Hyper-Specific Things About India for India-Based Stories and Art

No this isn't a cry for more Indian-rep in Spider-Verse stories. (It is.)

Anyway. I recently went to India, and after returning to my hometown in Tamil Nadu, I reintegrated a whole slew of memories and collated new facts.. And considering I've been wanting to do one of these for quite some time (and because I need a new variety of Pavitr Prabhakar content), I thought it'd be cool if I shared some of my experiences and ideas with you.

It's best to take this with caution, though: the only places I've been to are Tiruchirappalli, Madurai, and a few towns located close to the Eastern Ghats, so my knowledge is heavily South India-based. I know for a fact that there are various similarities and differences between other geo-cultural areas of India, which is I why I've linked the other cool India Resources here as well.

In Which I Ramble About Pavitr's Character Design and the Indian Cultural Stuff Related to It by @chaos-and-sparkles (+ my addition + @neptune432's addition)

A culture post for the girlie pops (and non-girlie pops) looking to write Pavitr Prabhakar accurately by @summer-blues-stuff (+ my addition + @fandomsfeminismandme addition)

Also a timely reminder of @writingwithcolor's wonderful resources on writing about South Asian characters respectfully and sincerely

Now, for the things I've noticed in South India..

ANIMALS

There are a lot of street dogs. Like... a lot of them. And honestly it's so hard not to go up to one and give them a snack or two. The most notable dog breed is the Indian pariah and they can be found all over India. Mixed dog breeds are also common and results in a variety of features like differences in build and coat colours.

There are also other types of animals are pretty common to see alongside the roads.

Cattle are seen a lot (cows and bulls are easy to distinguish; cows (left) have udders and a small hump on their back, while bulls (right) are generally stockier and have a super-defined hump on their back). I'm pretty sure the specific cow breed is the sahiwal cow. They are either herded into paddocks for grazing or can be found wandering city streets on their own.

Goats are often herded by farmers into large masses of wool and horns and are guided to paddocks to graze. Sometimes, like cattle, they'll be found wandering city streets on their own.

Chickens are usually kept close to stalls and homes. These chickens are not plump and fluffy like most Western chickens, but are quite skinny. Mottled feather colours are usually a result of mixed chicken breeds. In Tamil Nadu, the most common chicken breed is the asil chicken.

Various birds are often seen flying around traffic if they’re not disappearing into the sky, the most common being crows, pigeons and mynahs. (The chart below on the right is not an inexhaustive list of birds; you best search them up yourself.)

TRANSPORT

There is obviously a huge amount of trucks and lorries and buses. They all have beautiful designs or crazy LEDs or large detailed fluorescent / iridescent stickers that are impossible to ignore, whether it be at high noon or midnight.

Expanding on that, the most common method of transport are motorcyclse or scooties, cars, and autos.

Also, as expected: traffic is insane. It’s horrible. It’s exhilarating. Western honking is akin to swearing, but here? Honk whenever you want. Honk if you’re happy or if you’re sad. You get a million dollars if you honk. You need to honk. It’s more important than breathing

Similarly, road rules don’t exist. Well, they do, and the Indian government does everything it can to make sure people do follow the rules, but based on the aforementioned honking, most people don't. Everyone just drives. Most bikers and motorcyclists don’t wear helmets. Only a few people wear seatbelts. Cars and motorcycles drive on the wrong side of the road and right into oncoming traffic. The chance of someone dying is 99% but it’s countered by desi stubbornness.

ENVIRONMENT & INFRASTRUCTURE

Houses and buildings are painted different colours!!! Pastel pinks and purples and deep teal hues, either plain colours or decorated with elaborate murals. This also applies to interiors. I reckon it was surprising to a lot of people when they were confronted with Mumbattan's vibrant colours, but honestly: coloured buildings slap, and it's based on the real thing. They are a sight to behold. Couple that with the architecture and oh boy- you've got such a beautiful environment.

From @jettpack's concept art for Mumbattan buildings

jettpack's concept art of the Mumbattan collider

From @chenfelicia's concept and colour keys of Mumbattan

Don't be shy to really immerse in crazy descriptors - that's how you capture the liveliness of cities like Madurai and Mumbai and ultimately, their physical manifestations like Mumbattan.

Funny enough, movie posters and political banners and flyers are EVERYWHERE. They’re huge and take up entire billboards, or congregate along walls so it becomes practically a collage. It's impossible to ignore the image of "Makkal Selvan" Vijay Sethupathi about to beat some poor loser into a pulp with a stick, or the political parties roasting each other on paper with impressive photoshopped graphics.

To tie in to the point about transport: there are hundreds of coffee stalls and snack shops and one-of-a-kind food stands. You can’t go 200 metres without running into one, either on the highway or in the city. I remember having jaggery coffee on my first night in India, and guys- it tasted so fucking good. I only wish I can transfer the taste to you. Absolutely splendid.

The climate in India is generally very humid and warm, but that doesn't mean we don't get cooler days; it is obviously cooler on winter nights. Also I've heard from many conflicting sources on India's seasonal weather (probably due to India's geograpghy), so you will have to talk to someone who is from India to really confirm. I've somewhat boiled it down to five seasons:

Summer - May-Jun; very hot (35-45ºC/95-113ºF), characterised by shrinking water bodies and droughts if there aren't any rainfalls; this time is good for plant growth/harvest if you've successfully managed water supplies

Monsoon - Jul-Aug; (34ºC/93ºF) very variable in terms of timing, characterised by torrential rains and floodings; the raining itself probably lodges somewhere in Jun-Sept but the aftereffects are felt long after the rains have stopped

Autumn - Sept-Nov; cooler but humid (25-35ºC/77-95ºF), and generally much drier since it transitions from autumn to winter

Winter - Dec-Feb; much colder, but the extent is dependent on geographic regions (20-25ºC/68-77ºF)

Spring - Mar-Apr; humid (33ºC/91ºF), sudden downpours, only occasionally do you get pleasant weather in this time

PEOPLE AND CULTURE

For some reason, there are still loud speakers blaring out music across the roads and as far as a few city blocks. I honestly thought that that had died out by the time my parents had graduated university, but it still seems like people like hearing music played at 120 decibels.

This is a complicated issue but people are not piss poor. Yes, India is a developing country, and yes there are slums and there are homeless and there are those who are stuck in a horrific sociocultural cycle, but people are rapidly getting into high-paying jobs at much higher rates than before. Overall, India is getting better; do us a favour and not have us be represented by the same poor struggle-riddled Indian stories that Hollywood and Western media is are fond of portraying.

@neptune432: One thing I think it's important to acknowledge though is how your experience in India changes depending on your caste. I feel like most of the indian voices talking online are savarna (I'm not an exception) so this doesn't get brought up as much. It's a complicated issue and one that I don't think non-indians (or savarna indians) should worry about tackling in their work, but it's worth saying because what's assumed to be everyday aspects of indian culture are actually specific to things like caste, class, and what region you're in. ex: in kerala, there are also examples of people eating on banana leaf with lots of vegan food for special occasions (namely during onam). but veganism is heavily tied to brahmanism so most of these people will be savarna. even if they eat meat otherwise, the specific interest in eating vegan for special occassions has clear implications. Though many people of different castes eat meat, it's a practice that gets discriminated against, being treated as barbaric and unclean. this is because of brahmanism and is usually only strictly followed by brahmins. dalits/bahujan usually face the worse treatment for their eating traditions. there's also the fact that hinduism is more of a recent term and a broad umbrella where many different gods and cultures have been put under (and usually done forcefully). a lot of local dieties and specific cultural practices come from outside the vedic traditions of aryans (upper caste north india), but now are treated almost as one thing. ex: kali is a south indian (dravidian) goddess who's still heavily worshipped there and who later got adapted to brahminical traditions. that's also why south indian practices of worship are different from the north and are discriminated against ex: north indians getting angry at the idea of worshipping kali by drinking alcohol and smoking even though it's an older tradition than theirs. these traditions are often connected to dalit/tribal cultures as well, which adds to why these traditions are attacked. Now, I don't feel comfortable with non-indians writing about india in general but I feel it's important to mention these things cos most people don't even realize they're only getting shown certain perspectives. How many people don't even know they're a north/south divide, for example? People are fed narrow viewpoints on India and assume that's everything to know. it's a problem cos that's what the brahminical forces in india want. This is all very general info too and I'm no expert so it's worth more research (like reading what dalits have said on their experiences). I'm not trying to criticize you btw, I just wanted to add some things cos this has been on my mind for a long time now. Couldn't have said it better myself, neptune!! (I barely mentioned it at all lmao) The caste system despite it being "abolished" still defines many traditions within India, and almost always in harmful ways. Like @summer-blues-stuff and I have mentioned in their post A culture post for the girlie pops under the Religion and caste section, it's best to leave the caste and social hierarchy alone even if you've done your research. That doesn't mean you shouldn't talk about it, it's just that people, especially those of non-South Asian decent, have to be extremely careful about it. Introductory resources on the caste system can be found on ABC, Pew Research and The Conversation.

Furthermore, the automatic assumption is that people living in shacks or remote villages have no access to greater populations and resources, which I'm happy to completely disprove. Guys: majority of the people living in my village, a rather remote village, have phones on them. Ranges from iPhones to Androids to good ol' Nokias.

(And, side note: as an Indian, I get amazingly pissed off when people's ringtones are set to maximum volume and play the same famous part of a famous song every time they get a call. Like shut the fuck up. At least quieten down? Please??)

(Also this might be a South Indian thing but Man some people are so entitled. Dudes you do not need to rub your ego into my face. Dudes you can, you know, keep all the cool things you think will get other people jealous out of the public eye. At this point I'm not jealous of what you Have, I'm pissed off at the Audacity To Think You Can Make Me Feel Bad About Myself With The Things That You Have).

Alright. Moving on.

Tiny temples and shrines are everywhere, dedicated to broad-Hinduism deities like Ganesh, Shakthi, or Vishnu; other times, they are shrines built for local deities that protect a particular village. For example, my village dedicated a little plot of water-logged land to a benevolent spirit called Subbamma, where people would leave offerings or place their sick/injured animals at the water's edge so that Subbamma could heal them. These tiny temples are almost always super colourful and amazingly detailed despite their small size

It could be a whole month before a celebration like Diwali but it’s the perfect time to set off hundreds of fireworks and firecrackers. People are just inconsiderate in many ways, it seems.

Some women wear strings of jasmine flowers in their hair. This might be completely regional-based, but most if not all women, ranging from little kids to old ladies, will wear these strings of jasmine in their hair. It's supposed to represent good fortune and beauty, and it smells wonderful.

@esrev-redips: #i usually only visit the north side of india (went to banglore and or chennai once) but im pretty sure most women in mumbai wouldnt wear #flowers in their hair unless they were of an older generation #they dont in new delhi at least and i t h i n k you can compare them but im not sure since i dont live in india either Thank you esrev!!!!! glad to see an old hunch be confirmed!!!

Normally you can wear any type of jasmine, but the common subtypes in Tamil Nadu are ஜாதிமல்லி (jathimalli; "Spanish jasmine"; left) and மல்லிப்பூ (mallipoo; right).

Eating food from a plate made from a banana leaf is more than just an aesthetic, and is often reserved for certain occasions; other times we eat from metal or ceramic plates. I can't vouch for other areas of India but I've been told the reason why banana leaves are predominantly used for large gatherings is because they can signal to diners if the food is rotten or has been poisoned; supposedly the leaf itself starts rotting and releases liquid, but I personally have never seen this happen. But of course, there are also other reasons as to why banana leaves are used (all of which are valid) ranging from being an eco-friendly disposable plate, offloading nutrients into food, or even to make the food taste better. Pick whichever reason you like.

I'm literally so hungry looking at this. (Realises this is a Pavitr thing to say.) Anyway.

FOOD RECS!!!!!!

Reblog with your favourite foods >:) The list will be routinely updated...

JAGGERY COFFEE (from me) - GOOD FUCKING STUFF. ACTUALLY. if you see it.. GET IT IMMEDIATELY

PANI PURI (from @esrev-redips) - #also you forgot to mention the PANI PURI STANDS AHHHHHH YUMYUMYUM | RRRR YOU'RE SO RIGHT. PANI PURI FOR LIFE ACTUALLY.

JASUBEN PIZZA (from @the-witch-forever-lives) - okay this is specific to Ahmedabad | okay but as specific as it may be that sounds and looks delicious??? hello??????

DABELI (from @the-witch-forever-lives) - this too???? also it LOOKS wonderful i need it right now actually

VADA PAV (from @the-witch-forever-lives) - Also Vada pav from Mumbai is so one of a kind | you are absolutely correct. vada pav is truly something magnificent

I think that's about all I can give you right now. This took me a while to type out. Feel free to ask any questions, or if you have anything you would like to add on, like anything I might have glossed over or your favourite desi foods, please do!!! I'll be sure to reblog your addition and update the original post.

The point is that this post can become one of those few other reference posts that artists and writers and other creatives can use if they ever want to make anything related to India, because it's genuinely so cool to see your culture represented so well in popular modern media.

(And in fanfic and fandom. Especially in fanfic and fandom. you have no idea how many times I've gone insane reading a Pavitr-centric fic or reading comments on Pavitr-related posts and it's just outdated ideas and harmful stereotypes and all sorts of sick bullshit, and it's always to the point where I physically have to go outside and bite into a fresh rhizome in order to ground myself. Like damn, people, you need to know things before you start creating)

So uh, I hope this was helpful if not interesting! Happy early Diwali everyone! Knowledge-over-ignorance and all that; hopefully this post does that notion justice!

[biscuitblinkeu]

To be Loved

Fluff • Abuse • Smut

Park Chaeyoung x Fem!reader -> Requested

Word Count: 6885~

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, violence, soft NSFW

Prompt: Soulmate AU with spoice— (reader is shorter than Rosè)

A/N: The long awaited one shot… yeah. I’m on my knees type of sorry for how long this took to get finish. Also, spice starts near the end— SJDHFHDHDJDJ don’t tell me anything about it, just let me fade into existence LOL. It’s not my strong suit, so bear with me. I hope you like some part of it anon! 😭🤞🏽

Soulmates were such a complicated concept. They could be born many years before or after one another; die before meeting; fall in love with someone else— thus breaking their tie; or right out reject their fated pair. They could be halfway across the world, or live in a completely different society than your own.

There were those who didn’t believe in Soulmates, those that thought the system wasn’t fair. But what was fair about fate? It was just a way to bind two people together. Forever. You either got lucky or you didn’t, there’s no in between— soulmates are simply a random occurrence. And the world was too cruel to give everyone the same happiness.

You were one of the few people who didn’t believe in soulmates despite the evidence they were real being all around you. You didn’t believe in the fairytales from poets, the grand, romanticized adventures about those looking for their fated pair, those who traveled across the world, suffered many hardships, and finally, by the wonderful power of destiny, found their other half. 

It was all a joke to you. It was unhealthy, too. Imagine spending almost your whole life wishing upon a dazzling shooting star for a soulmate to take you away from the loneliness and the imaginary scenarios, making them true, only to find out they died or broke the tie. Or to pathetically plead to the otherworldly force that created soulmates each year for someone to save you, to love you, for it to not be answered?

It was your own personal experience— something you believed to be a forever thing.

 It wasn’t.

.

The crescent moon grinned down upon you mockingly, its light illuminating the streets. Everyone seemed to always have a destination in mind, somewhere they knew they had to go. You were always lost.

 A bitter wind nipped at your face and hands, and you pulled your scarf up more.You looked at the heavy brown-paper bag in your hands and sighed, you had to go back home. Those all familiar feelings bubbled up inside of you once again: hopelessness; fear. These feelings made you hurt, they were empty feelings that just seemed to grow bigger everyday, making it harder for you to have control. You clenched your fists to stop the shaking, even dug your nails into your skin. It didn’t help. 

(Even if you did right, you’d still get punished).

That’s how it always started: the trembling. It started from your fingers and made its way through your body till you’re shaking. When you shake you no longer have control of your nerves. If you’ve lost control of your nerves, you get dizzy. Then you’ve lost the ability to breathe properly… and you drown. 

You ripped your gaze away from the bag that held bottles of tequila and champagne and forced your feet to move forward. Though, too caught up in trying to prevent yourself from getting overwhelmed, you failed to notice the wild animal scurrying on the sidewalk in front of you. A shriek left you and the bag in your hands dropped as you jumped out of surprise, its contents smashing and spilling out on the floor and your shoes. The smell is strong, and you wrinkle your nose. 

There goes your chance at having a peaceful night.

You hope they’ve fallen asleep and forgot. When you’re walking up the driveway you saw that the lights were still on. They’ve just forgotten to turn them off. They’re asleep, you told yourself over and over as you're unlocking the door.

They’re not. 

Your mother was still perched on her soulmate’s lap, just as she was when you went out, looking at you expectantly. Your eyes darted to the floor, and a quiet, shaky breath left your lips. 

She noticed your hands are empty and her face falls. You could see the burning color appear on her cheeks— she’s angry now, and in front of her soulmate you’ve embarrassed her? 

“Excuse me,” she murmured as she slid off his lap. She walked past you, heading to the hallway, and even though she doesn’t verbally tell you to follow her or do any type of gesture, you just know to follow her. 

You’re in the hallway, and oh, what a hazardous place to be in. Your eyes darted around the small corridor, taking mental notes of what looked sharp and what could bruise you and what might— “(Y/n).” Her voice was cold and it made you jump, she gave you a what-the-fuck look. “Where are our drinks? Where have you gone to take this long and come back empty handed? Where’s my money? Where has it been spent?” She bombarded you with questions.

“I had them, but…” Should you tell her you were a klutz and dropped it? 

Well, you’re unable to anyways. The moment your mom scrunched her nose up with that glint in her eyes you knew what was coming, yet you weren’t ready for it. It was just so fast. 

A heavy, hard smack collided with your cheek, knocking you off balance to the ground. The trip wasn’t so smooth as your back dug into the sharp dresser edge on the way. You held your cheek, blinking rapidly as pain assaulted your senses. God, your head was spinning, your ears were ringing, and your face burned. You bit your lip to stop any cries. Tears pricked at your eyes and you refused to look at her, your gaze trained to the polished wood boards. 

Your mother has already come up with her scenario, her answer instead of hearing you out. (Not that the outcome would be any different, but maybe less harsh).

“So you decided to drink it yourself, huh?” She scoffed, rubbing at her temples like you were an annoying headache. “I knew I smelt something… You naughty little girl, that was ours!” You still smelt like the alcohol, meaning you must’ve drunk theirs, that’s the only reasonable conclusion, right?

You saw her coming closer to you. She grabbed a handful of your hair and you yelped, forced to stand up. Your legs scrambled for grip underneath you and as soon as it’s gained, it’s lost when your mother’s knuckles collide with your jaw on the same side of the slap. She was not going easy on you, and you deserve it. You deserve this, because this is what you get for not paying attention.

Your vision blurred for a moment and you finally let a cry escape your lips. “Mom!” Your mother rolled her eyes and practically manhandled you to your room, her nails digging into the side of your waist and arm with a bruising grip as she pushed you forward. “Mom! Please stop, it hurts!” 

“Good,” she sneered, fingers digging deeper into your skin. You whimpered in agony. “You had one job…couldn’t even do that.” You’re scared, everything hurts, and you're beginning to tremble again, and this time, maybe you’ll welcome the panic if it’ll give you something else to focus on. 

She pushed you onto your bedroom floor and snorted at your state. “Go to bed. I don’t want to hear anything from you.” Then she slammed the door, the sound ringing in your ears. 

You didn’t have the energy to drag yourself onto your bed, and would rather not risk making things harder for yourself, so you curled up on the ground. The sharp smell of cigarettes lingered in the air, causing your nose to sting, each shallow intake of air more stuttered than the last as you began to weep. The gash on your cheek was painful, and the feeling of a wet sensation let you know that the skin was broken and bleeding. 

You can’t do this anymore. 

You've seen how hard it is for people with mothers and fathers that aren’t soulmates. The judgment, the uncertainty, the hushed whispers. You’ve experienced it first hand. 

Your mom and dad weren’t soulmates, just two people that stopped trying. Ever since your mom found her soulmate (Evan) and broke up with your dad, you were able to see your mom finally in true love, yet your dad was broken. His soulmate, who died before they could meet, awaited him in the afterlife. Not long before they broke up, it was like the Universe decided he had nothing else to live for if not with his soulmate, and he passed. 

Since then, Evan stopped you from finishing your studies to stay home and take care of your mom and the expected baby. The miscarriage was highly unexpected, and you’ve been the punching bag since. Your little brother's death was traumatic for them, and they couldn’t come up with a reason why it had to be that way— so it was pushed onto you. 

It’s your fault, your mom told you; you should’ve taken care of her better, Evan had said, she was too stressed out because of you. You’ll never find your soulmate, they said, creating the first crack. You're unlovable. Useless. Who could ever love you? You’re here because your soulmate left you.

(It was then you realized you couldn’t rely on a soulmate to save you).

With your studies discontinued, your life plans were shattered. You've been forced to live with your mom since your dad died, having no other place to go. You’ve hopped from job to job, saving up money to leave and get back on track, but they take it away from you anyways. You're stuck.

That’s why you decided to run away. 

When Evan and your mom retired to their room, you waited a few hours, then snuck out of your room— for the first time grateful for not having a lock— with a bag packed. You always kept some funds away from your mother, funds she didn’t know about, and today you would use them. The downstairs was quiet, and you made sure to stray away from creaky floorboards. You turned the corner, flinching upon seeing Evan in the kitchen digging through the fridge. You needed to go through the kitchen to get out. His droopy, unkind eyes settled on you. 

“Hey,” he said, frowning as he put his cup down. “Aren’t you supposed to be in your room?”

When he took a step towards you, you bolted, running past him and throwing the door open. A moment later the same door flew open, and you realized he was chasing you. “Hey! Fuck— get back here!”

You ran harder, barely getting air into your lungs as you turned corners and ran through streets, bumping into people. When you no longer heard his voice yelling after you, you switched into a slow jog, then a tired walk. 

You walked a few blocks, then entered a café to rest.

You glanced around the room, noting how cozy it was. It reminded you of how your grandma’s house would have a homey atmosphere; old family photographs hung proudly on the walls, soft music playing from a record player, and the air scented with something that made you warm. There weren't many customers, and you figured it was close to closing. 

You hung your backpack over a chair and sat down, resting your head on the table, taking a much needed break. You would order a drink, but didn’t want to inconvenience the baristas since they were cleaning up. When you felt your eyes closing, you reminded yourself to leave before 

they closed. 

It wasn’t long before you slipped into a nap, the comforting atmosphere lulling you deeper, and ignored the almost overwhelming feeling in your heart. You ignored the tugging sensation on your index finger too.

.

“Excuse me,” a voice whispered, accompanied by a soft tap on your shoulder. When you didn’t respond, she lightly shook your shoulder.

You flinched awake and she furrowed her brows. “Hi, I’m so sorry about that. I didn’t mean to scare you, but it’s closing time and…” She trailed off. 

You couldn’t believe Rosé from Blackpink, global kpop star and ambassador, was in front of you. You took note of the khaki, bear-printed apron she wore along with a name tag,p: the café’s uniform. But more importantly, why was she so much prettier up close? Her blonde hair was in a ponytail, and a couple strands were left out to frame her face. Her eyes were a soft but narrow shape, giving them a natural innocent look, and her nose was perfectly straight and sculpted. The bit of freckles that graced her nose and cheeks made her even more breathtaking.

The ever so reddening of her cheeks let you know that you were staring far too long. 

You quickly stood up and unhooked your backpack from the wooden chair, slinging it over your back. “I’m sorry,” you apologized almost immediately, as if it’s out of habit. Your eyes darted back to the floor, and she felt her heart break. 

Something clearly wasn’t right. 

“I’ll leave now…thank you for waking me up.” Without waiting for her response you started to walk away, unable to endure her curious gaze any longer. Though, a hand wrapping itself around your wrist stops you in your actions, and prompts a quiet gasp to leave your lips. Her touch was electric. You turned back around, trying not to dwell on the warmth encasing your wrist, and faced her. 

Why did she just grab you? She, too, looked shocked. Her cheeks dusted with a light pink as she looked away from you. Did she feel it too? 

Looking down, she noticed the harsh blobs of purple and green peeking out from your hoodie sleeve and her heart jumped for a whole different reason. They were shaped like fingerprints— like someone grabbed you violently. At the realization, she was momentarily rendered speechless. 

She only had one thing on her mind, and it wouldn't be right if she ignored it. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she looked down briefly before looking you straight in the eyes. Her eyes soft with concern, she asked, “Are you okay?” Immediately, you tensed up. You inhaled sharply, attempting to steady yourself by taking deep breaths. “You’re hurt. Who did this to you?” She pressed.

There it was. You could feel tears building at the corners of your eyes, and she definitely noticed. You tried to speak, but your tongue felt too heavy to form coherent words. “I— I’m…” You're fine? You injured yourself?

“Please tell me, I need to know.” Her voice was stern yet laced with a gently concern. You weren’t getting out of this. Her hand loosened its grip, but didn't fully let go. Did she know you would bolt the moment she did?

Your vision started to blur, and you blinked rapidly against the incoming stream of tears. It’s all you can do to keep yourself together. One part of you wanted to tell her, wanted to spill everything, the other held you back and wanted to tell a lie. You shouldn’t burden her. You could take care of yourself. But you couldn’t bring yourself to utter those words.

Noticing your inner turmoil, Rosé backtracked, and apologies were leaving her mouth in a rapid rush. “Sorry, I’m so sorry. That was very rude of me. I’m Chaeyoung. You are?”

You sniffled, feeling slightly overwhelmed. “…(Y/n).”

She smiled lightly. “(Y/n)? Your name is beautiful, I love it. Now… I know I was really forward just now, but I’m worried about you. I can’t just leave this unattended, I— I want to help you…if that’s alright.”

“Help?” You repeated quietly. The word felt foreign on your tongue, even more so hearing it applied to your situation. Usually people looked the other way, not wanting to get involved or merely too scared to. And you’ve gotten so used to it that you felt you weren’t deserving of help. Now, you bitterly wondered why it took so long to come to you, especially in times of need.

“Yes. Do you want my help?” She asked again, softer.

God, yes. Yes, you want help. You could only nod your head, a quiet sob leaving your lips. You hid your face, self-conscious in front of her. Suddenly, you're engulfed in a warmth, such a comforting embrace, and it only makes the tears fall harder. 

“It’ll be okay,” she murmured, letting you cry into her chest. She was taller than you, her chin resting delicately upon the crown of your head. The feeling of being cared for washed over you, easing your stress for a minute, allowing you to take some time to calm down. Her scent filled your lungs, and you could have sworn you smelled a floral mixed with vanilla. 

Once you calmed down enough, you pulled away and managed to whisper a hoarse, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” she replied. “Now, can I know what’s going on in order to help you better?”

After that short moment, you told her - a stranger you surprisingly felt you could trust - everything. You told her about your parents, getting chased as you tried to leave the house, and the origin of the bruises. You kept it brief, however, and once you explained the details of your situation she offered to take you to the hotel she was staying at.

You were hesitant to leave the café, fearing your family was searching the streets for you, she called her manager to get the two of you and you waited inside. While waiting, she asked you a few things about yourself and exchanged some things about her. 

You learned that she had a “complicated" job that left her restless at night, hence why she was helping out at her friend's café. She was humble to a fault, telling you about her friends and how grateful she is to have the opportunities she has now, too. 

It wasn’t long before her manager, a young-looking, friendly woman, greeted you when Chaeyoung opened the car door and the both of you slid in. You’re not good at small talk, but she was a natural at it. It wasn’t long before the conversation flowed freely and you didn’t have to pretend. She made you comfortable.

There was a lull in the air, the only noise being the car’s engine grumbling and the wind whipping by the slightly lowered window. She turned to face you fully, and you shifted in your seat from her gaze. “Do you know who I am?”

You bit your tongue at the question, not expecting it— at least, not this soon. (Was it obvious?) “I do. I mean, I may have seen your face on a few products and billboards.” You pinched at the fabric of your pants, not realizing you were beginning to frown. “Is that okay? I’m not trying to...” Intrude; leach; burden. 

She cut your rambling short with a chuckle. “That’s fine,” she assured. “It doesn’t change anything. I want to do this.” It honestly scared her how much she wanted to help you. 

She has been warned multiple times about “normal people”. 

They’re different, all they see is your fame, you on the stage, what you have and what they don’t. 

She has been used because of her kindness, taken advantage of and lied to. Threatened, even. But somehow she knew you weren’t like them. She was acting on a feeling she couldn’t explain. 

The feeling she has searched for her whole career, perhaps. She pushed the thought to the back of her brain— it was the least of her worries. Now, she needed to make sure you felt safe.

.

You expected she stayed at a quality hotel, but just seeing it— such a large, grandice building, was mind blowing. It was nestled between a street lined with high end brands and local restaurants, drawing eyes. Nonetheless, you didn’t feel any envy towards her. You knew she had worked hard to get to this point in life. 

You followed closely behind Chaeyoung, the guards at their post by the main entrance, intimating you with their blank expressions and bold stances. They gave her a singular nod as she passed, their eyes lingering on you for a few moments with masked confusion. You smiled wryly, imagining how it must look to others, and readjusted the facemask her manager had given you. 

You didn’t want to cause any problems for her.

Chaeyoung was a natural at conversing with people, something you lacked in, greeting the receptionist with a smile and small talk. She had just finished laughing at a joke. “Is there another room available on the same floor as mine?” She asked, glancing at you. You furrowed your brows, confusion reflected in your eyes.

The receptionist clicked around the computer for a moment. “Yes, there is. Are you trying to rent it?”

“I am,” she replied. 

“Okay can you state the guest name and residency? Or are you buying it in your name?”

“In my name—“

“No!” You blurt suddenly, coming closer to the counting. You turned to her, shaking your head. “I can…I can pay for it, Chaeyoung. You’ve already done enough for me. I can’t ask you to do anything more.” There was something in your voice, pleading, which caught her off guard. Why were you so against it? 

She tilted her head quizzically, her lips pursed together. Oh, she would spoil you. She smiled. “No, I can’t let you do that.”

You were flustered, calculating how much she would have to pay: a whole lot. It was definitely pricey for your current funds, but you didn’t care. You didn’t have to stay long… “But it’s only right—-“

”I want to. So please accept, okay?” 

Realizing she wasn’t going to back down, you gave up. (For now). “…You’ll at least let me pay you back after, right?” You really didn’t like owing people.

She pretends to think about it for a moment. “Nope, c’mon.” She grabs the keys from the lady and leads you to the elevator. 

The ride was silent, and Chaeyoung didn’t seem bothered by the lack of interaction. On the other hand, she realized you had a lot going through your mind. That much was obvious from your lack of expression.  

Once she returned to her suite, she would contact Alice or her family for connections to lawyers. Abuse was a touchy subject, getting you to open up would be difficult…

.

The suite was luxurious— spacious and lavishly decorated with high-end furniture, plush carpets, and drapery. The living room was furnished with comfortable sofas, armchairs, and a coffee table. The large windows offered breathtaking views of the surrounding city. Further in, the bedroom featured a king-sized bed with premium linens and soft pillows, and the lighting is carefully curated, creating a warm environment. The bathroom had marble floors and walls, a deep soaking tub, and a separate rainfall shower. 

You re-entered the living space, completely shook. Wasn’t this too much? 

Chaeyoung sat on one of the island chairs, swirling around. “Nice, isn’t it? I recently started booking with this place. They have 24-hour room service and a private chef upon request. There’s also a private lounge, spa, and fitness center— but I hardly have time to use those services anyways...” 

“It’s… definitely nice.” You couldn’t begin to imagine the price for one day— 

“I’m happy you think so, I want you to be comfortable. Are you hungry?” She was already grabbing her phone as she asked, a pamphlet in her hand.

You shook your head, only to be betrayed by your stomach rumbling. She laughed, and the sound made your heart stutter in your chest without warning. She had a cute smile on her face as she beckoned you over. “Not hungry, hm?” She teased. 

“Maybe a little,” You said then, your face heating up slightly due to the embarrassment. She smiled wider, typing in the Suite’s website and clicking on food service. 

“What would you like? This place is really famous for their pastas and stews, but they have almost everything here.” She started listing off items, going from the most popular to the lesser popular dishes (they’re all expensive either way). Halfway through the selections you stopped her, finding a simple meal that was the least expensive yet filling. 

“Can you add the pho and salad to the order? I’m paying for it. You don’t need to spend more than necessary on me.” A stranger.

She frowned at that. “But I’m treating you, still.” 

“I know…but you’ve really done enough for me. I can’t ask for more,” you were adamant. 

“You can,” She emphasized. “In fact, I want you to. And I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I was the one who wanted to bring you here, and I have more money than I know what to do with, so let me pay for your things, please. I want to do this, let me take care of you.” 

You bit into your tongue, mulling over the situation. You knew at this point she wouldn’t let anything go, she’d just insist, and insist, and insist, coaxing you to comply with her lovely smile, and her kind eyes, and her gentle tone that never fails to have you feeling so warm.

“Okay, fine,” You said, and immediately a smile was pulling at her lips, that cheerful mood she had before coming back as soon as it faded. “On one condition: you at least let me pay for the food— yours too.”

“But—”

“I need to do something useful, Chaeyoung. It’s killing me, so just this once, please.”

“Alright,” she reluctantly agreed, almost hesitant to even let you type in your card for the order. “Just this once, and this time only.” 

“Yes, yes, thank you,” You finally smiled. 

The hotel staff didn’t take long preparing your orders, which is likely expected of such a fancy place like this. The servers came in with a trolly and placed the meals on the table. It looked and smelt delicious, and you and Chaeyoung ate right away. 

Sometime while eating, Chaeyoung called for your attention. “Hey, (Y/n)?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

You paused, bringing the utensil away from your mouth. You took in a breath, steeling your emotions. “No.” 

She almost choked. “Can I ask why not?”

At that question you became quiet. Even more so than before. Soulmates— there it is again.

Everyone seems to talk about soulmates; finding their perfect someone, and it seems Chaeyoung is one of them. “I don’t.” You answered, smiling wryly. “A long awaited destiny finding your other half? It’s…it’s really nothing but a fairytale.” 

“Oh. Yeah… I guess it’s a little childish.” Once you saw her expression drop more, that look of concern on her face, you glanced away and started stuffing your cheeks with rice again. You shouldn’t feel guilty for opposing the idea— everyone’s entitled to their own options, yet the crestfallen look on her face gave you a pang to your heart. You felt you needed to explain why, and you did. 

“No,I didn’t mean it like that… it’s not childish to believe in. I just— I know they’re real; and it’s great if you find yours and you’re happy,” you began, finding it hard to express yourself. “I just think the system isn’t fair.” What you didn’t say, however, is that sometimes it’s a waste of hoping and dreaming. You’re bound to get tired of it, to give up after a while. And giving up hurts the most, because it means accepting you won’t have that happiness.

“I see,” She murmured, given your response. She smiled again, but you could tell it was lacking. “Well, let’s finish eating. The food is getting cold.“

“Right.” You both ate in silence after that. The mood was heavy, filled with awkwardness, uncertainty, and just— something. You didn’t understand why, however. Why is she so caught up on that rare concept? Why does she care if you believe in it or not? You really couldn’t understand her. 

.

Chaeyoung was standing outside the door, returning to her own suite. “I sent you a text from my real number. If you need anything— don’t hesitate to call me, no matter the time. I’m just down the hallway.”

“Okay,” you nodded. Then she left you alone to your own devices. 

You decided going to sleep would be the best course of action. You avoided checking your phone, worried that even though you’ve turned off your location they’d still find you. 

Just sitting on the king-sized bed made you drowsy, and you were glad Chaeyoung was helping you, because it surely made you feel safer. It wasn’t long before your eyes grew heavy and your breathing evened out, and you were happy to sleep peacefully.

However, it was short lived by rapid-paced banging on the door. Still in the bedroom, you heard the door knob jiggling aggressively, and a few murmured voices. You flinched, immediately reached for your phone to dial a number. It rings twice before she picks up. “Hello? Chaeyoung?” You call anxiously, circling your knees up to your chest as you sit on your bed. 

“Yeah?” She answers lightly, her voice evident of sleep, and as much as you’d hate to rip her from her sleep, even if she said she didn’t mind, but you had a problem. 

“Someone’s—someone’s banging on my door. I don’t know what to do. What if they get inside? What if it’s my mom? What if they hurt me? I tried calling the security but I got no answer. I’m scared.” 

“Okay, okay. Calm down. I’ll be over there right away. Stay in your room for now, okay?” Chaeyoung hurried down the hallway, mindful to not keep you waiting.

In front of your door, a man in a suit slumped against the wall, the hotel staff fussing over him. “Sir, you’re drunk! You’re disturbing our guests, this is not your room. Let us…”

She let out a sigh of relief, knowing the problem wasn’t serious— but still felt tense knowing you weren’t aware of the situation. When the staff got the man off his butt, she knocked on your suite door. “It’s just me. I’m coming in, okay?” With that, she cracked open the door slowly. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw you curled up into a tight ball, crying softly in your bed. Without hesitation, she walked over to the corner of your room where you sat, taking a seat beside you. You leaned back into her arms with a sniffle, looking at her with tears welling up in your eyes. The sight made her want to hold you tighter. “Hey,” she whispered, rubbing your back. “It was just a confused man, he had mistaken the room number.”

“…Really?” You sniffled and pulled away slightly, half-embarrassed you’re relying on her again, half not wanting to leave her arms. She made you feel safe. 

“Yes, the staff took care of it right away. I’m sorry you had to experience that…” She was frowning, frustrated it had to be your room, that you were probably scared out of your sleep because of it, and that it might’ve resurfaced some of your trauma. It pulled on her heartstrings seeing you so shaken up and anxious. 

“Oh,” you nodded, instantly feeling calmer at the news. “That’s good.”

“It is,” she agreed. 

You quietly cleared your throat, realizing the death grip you had on her shirt. Heat spreaded across your nape and face. In front of Chaeyoung, you felt like a middle schooler with a crush all over again. “Thank you,” you mumbled. 

“For what?” She asked. 

You fiddled with your fingers unconsciously, avoiding her soft gaze. Did she truly not know? “For coming here— for everything.” 

Chaeyoung wanted to shake her head and deny it— she did it out of her own violation, afterall, but instead accepted your gratitude. “Of course.”

Something has been on her mind for a while— your presence demanded her full attention; and despite not knowing each other for more than two days, you’ve managed to make her a mess— she felt like she'd do anything for you. 

“What’s that on your finger?” She asked, her voice a low murmur.  It was a red string, tied into a neat little bow, the other linking end tightly wound around her own finger. Her lips parted in shock, realization donning her features. 

“What do you…?” You looked at your finger, only for your words to die in your throat. You stared at the foreign string, heart pounding in your chest and blood rushing in your ears. It couldn’t be.

“You’re my soulmate,” she murmured, sounding so undeniably happy. 

“No…” you whispered, shaking your head. It was useless, though, because the evidence was there. You suddenly felt the need to escape Chaeyoung’s embrace— your soulmates embrace. Before you could attempt to get any farther, another step— there were a pair of arms quickly wrapping around you, pulling you against a familiar chest in a tight, tight, tight embrace. It's warm, unyielding, and you were trapped completely— you couldn't get away even if you fought. "Chaeyoung," you started, sucking in shaky breaths, trying to not get drunk by the close proximity. "Y-You said I'm—I'm yours. Your—soulmate?" You get out, half coherent and half blubbering.

She understood you nonetheless, and hummed in acknowledgment, holding you a little bit tighter. "I did," She confirmed. You hadn't even realized that you’d started crying— but you were, and there are hot tears streaming down your cheeks. They're salty, and they're bitter with disappointment, yet above all they're filled with relief.

You’re soulmates, she said.

The rare, one-time chance concept of being a fated pair— having someone in the world that was meant for you and you alone, your complete significant other, where the world pulled you toward them until that bond is broken by choice. It was a lot to process, and it changed just about everything, but—

“I’m here, and we can take this at whatever pace you want. I know it’s hard, very sudden, but… I want this. I want you, if you're willing to accept me.” 

…. ⚠️

“You look so beautiful tonight,” Chaeyoung told you, following behind you to your shared bedroom, admiring the way your dress hugged your body. It was a black fitted dress that showed off your shoulders and figure. Your hair was tied up loosely with a pink ribbon. 

She changed after the show, wearing something much more comfortable, but still looked amazing. 

You flushed, beginning to take your jewelry off at the vanity.  “That’s the fifth time you’ve told me that,” you said, a smile present on your face. “But thank you, it makes me really happy.  I should say I couldn’t take my eyes off you when you were dancing. It made me….” You trailed off, finding it too bold to confess. Over the course of six months, she’s worked her way into your heart almost effortlessly, supporting and loving you every step of the way. Everyday you're grateful that you were able to meet, even if the way you met wasn’t romantic. 

“Made you what?” Rosie stood behind you and rested her hands on your hips. Unable to help herself, she  bent down to kiss your exposed neck. You closed your eyes, sighing softly as she kissed the side of your throat. “It’s embarrassing,” you muttered, and she sank her teeth into your skin, causing you to gasp. “Ah— Chaeyoung…”

“Tell me, baby.” Her voice held that tone again, the one that had you shivering under her touch, aching for more. 

Knowing you couldn’t convey it through words, you turned around in her arms and wrapped your own around her neck, pressing a soft kiss to her lips as you remembered how she moved to some of their songs’ sensual choreographies and the control she had while doing so. She kissed back, deep and languid. Her palm was hot, sliding over your curves and leaving behind a searing sensation. You broke away from the kiss, your breath coming out ragged as you  looked into her eyes, her pupils dilated. “That’s how you make me feel,” you whispered into the little space between you. 

She responded by pulling you into another heated kiss. The vibrations of your moans against her mouth made her heart hammer in her chest as she began to lift your dress up slightly, wanting to feel your thighs on her hands again. 

Breath hitching roughly in her throat, Chaeyoung felt the tip of your tongue flick at the seam before sliding across its full length. She let you push your tongue past her lips, feeling herself losing herself in the moment, completely surrendering to the sensations coursing through her. (Kissing you seemed to do that to her).

Lips sliding and pressing against each other, tongues touching and tangling, you felt weak in the knees. You squeezed her arm, “Chaeyoung,” you said in between kisses, tugging at her shirt.

She groaned, the breathy sound of her name and the authoritative, low tone coming from you sent tingles rippling down her spine and left her feeling lightheaded.

With one last lingering kiss, she pulled away and led you to the bed by your hand. You laid down first, reaching for her and pulling her towards you. She crawled onto the bed after you, kissing you again. Your fingers played with her hair, combed gently through the locks. “This feels good,” you said quietly, tilting your head for more access, feeling a sense of contentment, desire, and love welling up inside of you. You felt her pause and smile against your skin. 

While busying herself with making pretty marks on your neck, her fingers traced along your bare thigh, making you writhe beneath her, and she reveled in how sensitive you were to her touch. 

She groaned at the slight tug from your fingers threading themselves in her hair as she continued to kiss your neck. “We can stop anytime...”

"No,” You said almost too quickly, gasping when you felt her bite you lightly, teeth nipping at your neck before a tongue soothed the area. "Please, don't stop.” You were ready to go all the way tonight.

Chaeyoung’s heart could burst out of her chest in that moment, knowing that you were ready for the next step, that between soulmates it would make the bond even stronger. She made her way up and kissed you again, now with a fever and tenderness that had a growing hunger.

Your fingernails dug into her back when she darted her tongue slow and deep across the roof of your mouth— in and out, over and over, in a way that made you instantly imagine her mouth traveling elsewhere. The idea alone got you riled up. 

"Chaeyoung, please.." you gasped against her lips as another wave of heat circled through your abdomen and pulsed between your legs. 

"We've got time, my love," She slotted a leg between your thighs, pressing against your center purposefully. “I'm all yours tonight." Her hand slipped between your bodies, hiking up your mini-dress just enough for her to have access to your lace panties.

You gasped and tightened your grip in her hair, subconsciously bucking your hips the moment her fingers brushed across your center. A wave of pleasure overtook your body, and you could feel her edging to dip her fingers lower. It wasn’t long before she felt how soaked you were, how wet she made you, forcing a stifled moan from her throat that vibrated against your lips. You whimpered, tightening your thighs around her hand at the sound.

Knowing what you needed, she quickly discarded your underwear, and dipped a finger in you, making you shudder and squirm. Giving you a few moments to adjust, she watched your face for any signs of discomfort before pumping in and out. You lifted your hips off the bed to meet her pace, her finger reaching deeper with each slow, tantalizing pump. 

You could barely think straight with how intense everything suddenly became, and it only intensified as she added a second finger, pumping faster. There was a coil building in your stomach, moments away from snapping. “Chaeyoung— I’m gonna—” You panted heavily, your face burning, eyes closed tightly. With every stroke, your walls contracted tightly around her finger, making her curse under her breath. "Fuck, love. You're so tight... Are you close?”  

You nodded against her shoulder frantically, nails digging into her back.  

“Then come for me,” she murmured, adding her thumb in the mix to push you over the edge, her fingers relentless, as you arched forward, the pressure in your lower stomach building to such an extent you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your whole body trembled, incoherent words and moans leaving your mouth, your entire body shaking as an orgasm ripped through you. 

All the while Chaeyoung slowed the pace, your body writhing underneath her hand as she pumped in and out, her fingers gliding across your sensitive spot as she watched you come apart for her, helping you ride it out. She felt breathless, and absolutely loved seeing you like that; all flushed and sweaty, needy for her. You're her Angel— her soulmate. 

She kissed you, slow and sweet. “There, love. I’ve got you,” she cooed softly. “I love you, you did so well.”

You reached up, cupping her cheeks, loving the way your soulmate looked at you. “Just give me a moment,” you said, smiling. “It’ll be your turn next.”

[leth-writes]

Hello. Could you write for yandere Volturi Kings (separately or poly) and soulmate female reader?

Yandere Volturi x soulmate reader

Aro

oh no. Oh no. I’m so sorry.

Aro is honestly quite manipulative. He’s able to read minds, afterall, and he spends a lot of time just sifting through your memories, picking out your insecurities and anyone who’s ever said anything mean to you. He sends Felix after the latter and comforts you about the former, but the fact that you’ve never told him about your insecurities definitely means you’re unnerved.

Is really obsessive. You occupy his thoughts most of the time, and he spends most hours of the day with you at least at the back of his mind. Every time he sees a new painting, he thinks about bringing it back for you.

You have a small museum in your rooms, just from the gifts he’s stolen from the various galleries around Volterra and Italy as a whole.

Keeps you locked high in the tower, Corin constantly beside you. You’re essentially drugged, constantly loopy and exhausted. You’ll be awake for a couple of hours out of the day, in which Aro spends time reading to you and quizzing you endlessly about your life, as well as feeding you by hand. He prefers fruits like strawberries, loving to watch the way you bite at them, then kissing the juices off you lips. He’s just kinda like that.

Loves watching you sleep. He spends most of his time just looking at you, eyes wide and face frozen into a creepy grin. Sometimes you bolt awake and he’s just… staring at you in the dark. Has definitely made you scream and cry in fear before. Doesn’t really feel bad, wants you to think he’s more dangerous than he actually is.

Probably exaggerates the truth about vampires, for example, not telling you about the glittering. You just see him coated head to toe in blood and know something’s happened. It helps keep you in line, seeing him with that horrifying smile, face completely obscured with blood.

Honestly the worst out of the three. WILL kill your family if you try to escape, and shows you the bodies. Don’t try, it’s for the best.

Has Chelsea weaken the bonds with friends and family until they’re practically non-existent, giving you a sort of amnesia.

Makes you sit in court, just to see how ruthless he is. He wants you terrified of him.

Caius

Caius is strategic, yes, but he isn’t nearly as sadistic as he may seem. Aro is more terrifying you on purpose to keep you in one place, while Caius accidentally terrifies you through his temper. He’d never hurt you, but you’ve seen him in court.

The second he learns you’re scared of him, he forbids you from going into court. Secretly has Corin make you happy while you’re alone with him, so you begin associating that contentment with him.

Otherwise, doesn’t let anyone use their abilities on you, including Aro. Keeps his brother far away from you, though he does let Marcus spend time with you.

Seeing how hurt Marcus is by the death of his soulmate puts it into perspective for you, and you’re noticeably nicer to him afterwards.

If another vampire even looks at you, he’s attacking them and ripping their head off.

Also keeps you locked in the tower for your own safety.

If another member of the Volturi hits on you, they’ll be tortured for days before Caius deigns to kill them. Death will be a mercy.

Turns you as soon as possible, though probably still keeps you in the castle complex. You aren’t allowed to leave, he’s still quite protective.

Marcus

Marcus is a bit of an odd case. We don’t really see what he’s truly like, only what he’s like after years and years of depression.

However, St. Marcus day was named after him for a reason, hinting toward toward his wisdom and cunning mind.

As a result, Marcus slowly becomes more and more… himself. The others liken it to him waking from a long slumber.

You’ll have quite a lot of freedom, moreso than the other two’s darlings combined. He absolutely does not want a repeat of what happeend last time, so he focuses a lot on keeping you happy. Long walks through parks, visits to museums, anything for you. However, he does rent those spaces out prior, so you can’t actually see any other people, sorry. It sucks, but it’s better than the tower and the constant sleeping.

He’s a hopeless romantic, and works really hard to get you to trust him. He wants your relationship to be genuine.

As he wakes up, he starts to show more personality and to be more possessive. He’s still quiet, but he takes on a more intimidating exterior to anyone except you. He just kinda lurks behind you like a silent shadow, waiting for a guard to try something, at which points he just fucking decimates them. He’s an extraordinary fighter when he isn’t so focused on his depression.

Tells you stories about Didyme. He’s not comparing, but he knows she would’ve loved you, and he wants you to feel her presence.

[buthowboutno]

ONE YEAR OF "AND THEY WERE LAB PARTNERS" ✨✨✨

Thank you to everyone who participated in the one year anniversary poll!! I still maintain that it would be funny as /fuck/ to just delete “And They Were Lab Partners” in a memento mori fashion, but alas; Only one person voted for it.

Cowards /j

In any case, the majority voted for the behind the scenes stuff, so here we are! The tidbits of how ATWLP turned into the fucking beast it is.

I would like to personally blame @morning-sun-brah , @hitechlatte, and @ordin-arily for being such big inspirations in this corner of the fandom. You guys are amazing and I probably wouldn't be where I am today without your works.

Shout out to all my losers in the backrooms for keeping me going and being such terrible influences. You are all responsible for the horrors that have been unleashed. A solid third of my content exists because of your sins /aff. 

@beckerboopin is the best beta anyone could ask for and has only brought this story up to the next level. I would die for you becks <3

Also @betyoudidntcthatcoming-blog is the love of my life that I only met ‘cause of this fic or whatever. They’re pretty neat. I guess. :p

ANYWAYS, /CONTENT/

(Major Spoilers Ahead Pre-Chapter 23)

—

I would like to remind everyone that ATWLP was only supposed to be 50k words. You can still witness my naivety in the notes of “Pudge ‘Preciation.” 

How… simple those times were. 

How I so firmly believed the idiots would be kissing by chapter 16. How a projected word count of 150k words seemed unfathomable for a single work, much less a work with multiple published and planned companion pieces.

Crazy. (I was crazy once.)

There was a lot of ATWLP that ended up getting scrapped as I got further into the story. The idiots had a lot of opinions and tugged at me a few different ways as I got to know them better. (aka they wouldn’t listen to me when I told them to fucking kiss already.)

Anyways, some of the few major structural changes:

Casey was originally supposed to reveal that he knew Sweet’s in the bad timeline during the “Intro to Sparring” chapter. That chapter was also originally slotted to happen /before/ the kidnapping debacle, but it just so happened to fit in better later

The stage kiss from “Hit the Club” was going to be in the Nerd Prom chapter. It felt too corny at the time (and lowkey still feels corny) so I put that in my pocket for later. For as much as y’all yelled at me for it, it barely made the final cut lmao.

The way the idiots are going to confess to each other is a COMPLETE 180 from how I planned the story from the beginning, which was already entirely different from the first idea for this fic. I wrote a whole ass chapter about an accidental kiss being the tipping point of them positively macking on each other, which I did end up cutting into convenient pieces for other stuff. (I PUT A PART OF IT DOWN BELOW)

Sweets was going to be kidnapped twice and the whole Purple Dragons debacle was going to be drawn out more. There was a lot more action planned than slice of life content at ATWLP’s conception. For better or for worse, this is where the story led us.

Donnie’s mating season wasn’t going to be as involved in the story, if in it at all. I grew to be hornier and less ashamed. You’re welcome.

The first title for this fic was “Lab Rat: a Story of Nerds Falling in Love.” For the life of me I cannot remember what compelled me to change it, but holy shit am I glad I did.

I was going to use (y/n) in this fic. No hate to those who do, but stylistically I’m pretty happy with not doing that.

And because I have no control over the idiots, quick rundown of the chapters that weren’t supposed to happen.

Kart Conflict

The Christmas Issue

The Recovery: Day Two 

Valentine’s Day Episode

Hit the Club

Aquarium? Hardly Know ‘Em

****Pool Excursion

****Beach Episodes

****honestly just like the entire endgame of this fic

All the ficlets/ alternate POV’s

All the smut! I still have it written down in my original notes that ATWLP was gonna be completely PG lmao. Once again y’all have @morning-sun-brah and her fucking fabulous fics to blame for that

The Valentines’ and aquarium chapters are COMPLETELY different than how I had originally planned, even with being forced to include them in my chart. The Valentine’s day plans that the brothers had “ditched” with Sweets was the og plot for the chapter. The aquarium chapter was supposed to be a rooftop picnic with feels~~, no aquarium even fucking mentioned in my outline.

I don’t have much control over what happens tbh. I am praying that the 37 planned chapters will be the final chapters. 

We’ll…. we’ll just have to see how that turns out.

The scrapped plots as a little treat for y’all <3 ~~~

Cut Stage Kiss (after the lift in Nerd Prom)

You leaned closer to Donnie’s face, intent on screeching in his ear for pulling that stunt.

“Kiss them already!” May yelled from the inner edge of the crowd. You turned bright red, blinking at her. You shook your head at her, but the crowd started to catch onto the idea. 

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Donnie laughed, a little incredulous. He leaned in close to your ear, whispering, “Theatre kid protocol?”

You nodded in agreement, allowing him to put a hand to your face. He leans into your mouth, making the crowd go wild. You giggle against the thumb separating your lips, smiling against it. Donnie pulled away from you with a dramatic ‘mwah’. You threw your head back, fully laughing as Donnie lifted you up from the dip. 

First Valentine’s Day Outline

The final four move to the living room

Sweets: “We’re making friendship bracelets while we watch the most romantic movie of all time.”

Raph: “Shrek 2!”

Donnie: “This is ridiculous”

Sweets: “This holiday is ridiculous, now pick out your five favourite colors of embroidery floss”

Donnie: “....Fine."

Donnie is actually terrible at making bracelets lmao while mikey has wristfuls of them

Donnie: “I don’t understand! I’m following the blueprints exactly!”

Mikey: “The... instructions?”

Donnie: “Whatever! How are you making those so fast? You don’t even have that many friends!”

Mikey: “Physical therapy is a hell of a time, my brother.”

Sweets: “Is Donnie being ableist again?”

Mikey: “I do believe he is.”

Donnie: “I am autistic!”

Sweets: “Bless you.”

ORIGINAL CONFESSION

And it all starts like most things in your life do: a silly mistake.

“Donnie,” you whined. You were working on your physics homework at his desk while he was soldering a new motherboard for the Turtle Tank’s controls.

“Little pest,” he mimicked your tone without looking up. He kept on soldering as you stared at him, not a care in the world. 

“Would you be so kind as to look over my work for this problem? I’m following the steps but I’m not getting the right answer.”

“Mmm,” Donnie said. At that moment, a spark flew from his project and caught his exposed cheek. He flinched back, dropping his wire and soldering rod on the table and rubbing his face. You batted your eyes at him while he scowled. 

“I don’t know how, but I blame you for that.”

“I would *never*,” you teased. You pushed your chair to the side a bit so Donnie could stand next to you. 

He moved his goggles to his head and put his left arm over the back of your chair, leaning over you. He parsed through your work for a minute and tilted his head down to tell you what you needed to fix.

It just so happened that you tilted your head up to ask him a question at the same time, the two of you meeting in the middle with a kiss. 

Well, it wasn’t so much of a kiss as it was the two of you accidentally brushing your lips together for a moment. Seconds, almost nothing at all. 

But the way that Donnie looked at you when the two of you jumped apart…

That…that wasn’t nothing. 

You could almost laugh at the ridiculousness of this situation. You could’ve cracked a joke, played up your ridiculous game of pet names and intellectual bravado. 

(To be honest, you almost did.)

But then you thought about the way Donnie’s lips felt against yours. You thought about the way you’d dream of that moment and then proceed to do everything in your power to banish those thoughts away. Your mouth hung open slightly as you looked up at him, trying to will yourself to do anything, anything at all.

Donnie ended up making that decision for you. That oh, so familiar churring started emanating from his chest. He took your face in his hands, looking into your eyes for just a hint of confirmation before leaning in for a real kiss.

Oh.

*Oh*.

(Yeah, you could get used to this.)

There was nothing more you could do than press yourself against him, against his touch. You felt him smiling into the kiss, pressing you down into the chair. 

Donnie was *everywhere*, like he was trying to encompass you. His hand moved to your hair, the other to your hip. You smiled when you remembered his adoration for your love-handles all that time ago. You traced along his plastron, making nonsense shapes and mapping out every scar.

He was so responsive. The chirring increased tenfold for every touch to his chest, every soft bite you gave his lips. You recalled all the times he would make noises from you touching along his shell. You pressed your hands fully against him, doing your best to draw out more and more of those sounds.

What Donnie lacked in experience he made up for in enthusiasm. He followed your lead, matching your pace every step of the way. You licked along the seam of his lips, gasping as his mouth opened for you. Donnie’s tongue against yours was tentative, shy even. You did everything in your power to ease Donnie into deepening the kiss. 

When he moved from your lips and started kissing down your throat, your soul could have left your body right there. He was so…*gentle*. 

Donnie always has been. From when he was slinging his arms around you to kicking your ass in sparring, Donnie has never failed to treat you with care and reverence. 

You feel it now, with every soft bite he gives you, every gentle peck behind your ear.

Donnie pulled away from you after what felt like decades. (Never enough, it would never be enough.) You leaned forward after him, trying to close the space he was creating. He looked bashful.

“This might be the proper time to tell you that I have a massive crush on you,” Donnie said. His face was fraught with nervous determination. 

“Yeah, no fucking shit,” you said. You stood up from the chair and used your body to push Donnie against the desk. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down to your height.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you for forever, can we get on with it?” you said, looking into his eyes. Donnie turned bright red.

“But– you? Do you?” Donnie stammered a bit.

“Donnie,” you deadpanned, crowding into his space, “I’ve had a crush on you for a year, thanks for noticing. Will you *please* lean your face down a bit so I can reach it?” 

Donnie looked at you a bit incredulously, like you were a problem he didn’t know how to solve yet. He made quite a picture, all red faced and calculating with a dumb half-smile while he looked at you. But, giving in, he put his arms around you and leaned in to kiss you again.

“Aye, aye, captain.”

You smiled into the kiss, humming with contentment.

He likes you.

He likes you.

—

Aaaaand some random headcanons because I love you guys and I am truly so thankful to this kickass community <3 I truly do not know where I would be without the support y’all have given me.

Donnie has a hella oral fixation

NOT IN A KINKY WAY (most of the time) But as an autist, Donnie do be biting

One of his biggest shows of trust if he bites you while just chilling

Like if donnie is big spoon, he just nom on a shoulder and stay there chillin

Or if reader is body pillow, he’ll lean around and bite their bicep

Good sensations

Donnie draws on eyebrows every day, he for sure would be very good at doing intricate makeup on reader

Gently holds their chin up, concentrated as hell while reader blushes like mad

Donnie keeps getting banned off of roblox

Didn’t matter tbh, he knew how to hack into it to get his account reinstated

Also makes money off of roblox??

never explains to Sweets, very suspicious

Sweets likes to kiss along donnie’s neck/where his battle shell usually sits

The word here is reverence

Donnie is egotistical, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have insecurities about being a mutant turtle and you being a human

Lots of tracing along his arms, his face, his shell

Donnie likes his coffee to be half coffee, half milk to cut down on bitterness. Sweets is a tea drinker normally, but opts for coffee when they can’t focus (which ends up being most of the semester).

Sweets drinks black coffee when they’re on the struggle bus

To quote them, “Black coffee can’t hurt me more than Calc II already has”

But they prefer two creamers and two sugars when they have it in their dorm.

That’s all, congrats on making it to the bottom of this long ass post lmao <3

[oakparchment]

Blackpink reaction headcannon to you being in to feet

A/N: Personally, I can only get into the whole feet thing when they’re clean, pretty and pedicured; if you’re into it for the opposite reasons then my apologies, that content won’t be explored here. With that being said:

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

Lisa

Lisa is indifferent about it. She struggles getting into feet-play and doesn’t really find it enjoyable. You went at it a few different ways to see if that would change her mind: you lying on the bed whilst she gives you a footjob, her on her hands and knees while you cradle her feet together and fuck the hole that it makes, one time she even tried stepping on you (yikes!) You eventually have a healthy discussion about it and find a compromise. Whenever you get to fuck her feet, she gets to have her ass ate. This might just seem like a win-win situation for you (it is), but Lisa just loves getting rimmed so much that she’ll find any excuse to have it done more. This may or may not have induced pavlovian conditioning. For Lisa, feet play was rewarded with getting her ass eaten. Say less.

Rose

You don’t need to bring it up with Rose cause she’s the one who initiated feet-play first. It’d start with an accidental graze of her foot on your crotch when you were on the couch watching tv. Then she’d return to touch you again a short while later but this time she’d leave her feet resting on your clothed dick. The contact and her implications in this situation had caused you to grow hard under her feet. She rubbed you all over, one thing led to another and before you knew it, you were thrusting up into her tight feetussy; neither of you paying any attention to what was playing on the screen. When she sends you nudes, she now always makes sure to include some feet pics. They’re always cute and well kept. Rose could be a foot model… if that’s a profession that exists.

Jennie

Laughs at you when you first bring it up but is happy to give it a go. Her very initial reaction is a bit mean but at the same time you understand. When you first try it she pretends she’s not into it but is actually really fucking turned on by how she can get you off with just her feet. She doesn’t need to use her pussy, her mouth, or even her hands. She can make you squirm with nothing but her feet, until you’re cumming all over them. It makes her feel dominant, powerful- like she’s a level above you. One time she came home from the gym and during your post-workout fuck, had started to touch you all over with her feet (let’s just say from head to toe she was a bit sweaty and not in ‘perfect model mode’). You told her to fuck off and get in the shower if she wanted to continue with that stuff. That put her back in her place a little. She rolled her eyes and groaned at your response, choosing to let it go and got on top to fuck you as normal... but then she showered after anyways and you guys went for round two (this time with feet-play on the table).

Jisoo

Thinks it’s kinda gross and off-putting. You tried warming her up to it; getting in the bath together and cleaning her feet for her, giving her a relaxing leg and foot massage, then finally getting her to rub your cock with her feet. She gave it a good go for a few minutes, but it’s just not her cup of tea (fair enough). You kissed her in appreciation and then turned her around and railed her into the bath as a thank you for trying. Unlike the feet-play, Jisoo’s moans bouncing off the bathroom tiles let you know that your cock pounding her pussy is definitely something that she was into.

A/N: I’m sorry not sorry about the ‘feetussy’ part HAHA. Thought it’d be funny to slip that in somewhere. Everyone go take care of your feet. They deserve to be treated well too (assuming you treat the rest of your body well).

[elvensorceress]

Sunday sentences

tagged by @alyxmastershipper @hippolotamus @shortsighted-owl @fiona-fififi @wikiangela @cowboy-buddie @panbuckley @prince-buck-diaz @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @spotsandsocks @littlebitofdiaz @rogerzsteven @buddierights

I’m sure you all have already played but tagging you anyway just in case 💕 @monsterrae1 @911onabc @messyhairdiaz @bigassdiaz @spaceprincessem @astronaut-karenwilson @heartbeatdiaz @eddiesbicowboy @transboybuckley @wh0re-behavi0r @hetrez @homerforsure @fleurdebeton

changing it up a bit. who wants some of the Unless finale? 👀

Eddie’s warm when he wakes to a bedroom full of bright sunlight. A little too warm maybe but he also has more than six feet and two hundred pounds of golden retriever octopus wrapped all around him. And how can he complain about that? He shifts slightly until he can press a kiss into Buck’s unruly, sleep mussed curls and then cradles Buck’s head to his own chest. 

The faint scent of his citrus coconut shampoo still lingers in his hair and Eddie breathes deeply, letting the sweetness flood into his lungs and turn everything inside him to golden melted butter. Has he ever felt happiness like this? He’s relaxed, comfortable, loved in a way that feels joyful and safe, in a way he wholeheartedly returns. He doesn’t have to change who he is, he doesn’t have to shut off anything he feels, he can freely give and receive as much as he wants, as much as humanly possible. 

If he thought he couldn’t feel any better or more loved, it changes immediately when Buck nuzzles against him, hugs him tighter, and breathes his name like he’s the most precious, coveted treasure in existence, “Eddie. Eddie, sweetheart. My Eddie.”

The words sink into him and burst in his chest until he’s overflowing sunlight and volumes bigger than oceans. He makes a very undignified, wrecked sort of sound, but it’s mostly laughter when it comes out. It doesn’t hurt. It’s soft and gentle, melted sugar and carefree lazy summers, and he’s woken up with Buck so many times now. 

But this is different. 

They’re in love. They’re partners. They belong to each other.

Buck lifts up from Eddie’s chest and his fingers slip through Eddie’s hair. The smile touching his lips grows as his gaze travels over Eddie’s face. 

Eddie only wants him closer, wants him more. He needs him, he needs everything of Buck. He wants to give everything of himself, too. So their belonging is threaded into each other, permanently binding them together, like they always should be. 

“Did that really happen last night?” Buck whispers, voice low and soft, full of awe. He strokes Eddie’s hair and stares like he can’t look away, like he’s so astonished and maybe a little fragile but still hopeful in spite of it. “Did you really kiss me and tell me you’re in love with me? And that we can be partners? That I’m it for you? Was that real?”

God, if it were anything else, Eddie might tease him. He might be able to. But there’s too much sunlight that rises in his own chest. His eyes well with the surge of emotions. He can’t keep the smile from his face. “We’ve always been partners,” he says like the resolute vow it is and curls his fingers into the neckline of Buck’s shirt, holding tightly above Buck’s heart, holding tightly to everything of him because Eddie is never letting him go. “But maybe you should kiss me and see for yourself.” 

Buck beams like a wave cresting and changing colors as it takes in the light, happy to scatter itself everywhere and rain love over the rest of the sea. He kisses Eddie slowly at first, a quiet press of lips against lips, until Buck hums happily, purring deep contentment throughout his whole chest and Eddie opens for him, drawing him in, pulling them both deeper until the blissful humming is vibrating through Eddie’s chest and Buck is gripping him tightly and there’s only endless warmth and sunshine and softness, and the perfect sweet taste of Buck on his tongue.

[sarilolla]

Silly Trolls au idea that I might do more with (probably shouldn’t, I have a lot of other stuff on my plate lol) (Long post so more under Read More, this is just a ramble of an au honestly)

What if during the Great Escape from the Troll Tree, *Viva* had the Pop String? She was still lost along with multiple other Pop Trolls, and now her family have to deal with the loss of her, and the possible loss of ALL THEIR MUSIC

Would that mean that when they didn’t lose their music, they suspected she survived? Or at least someone else got it and there are some survivors? Or would the suspicion be that it’s buried in the tunnels to be forgotten, existing in a limbo as the Trolls are still able to sing and dance? Or maybe the Bergens got it, and they’re now finding a way to use it to make them happy, instead of eating Trolls?

Would they lose their music anyway, just from the assumption something bad happened? Would they be more open to gray Trolls, as it could be a possible after effect of their tribe being separated from the source of their music?

Would King Peppy reveal its existence to other elders, in case they lose their music and he needs someone to rely on? (Probably not, but let me imagine he has like two more brain cells and to not keep it hidden) Would the Pop Trolls know other music and Trolls were out there, but only know a false version of the story?

And then when Barb’s World Tour happens, how will that work out? Will Barb find a Pop Village without a String, and have no clue how to go from there? The Pop Trolls will be practically forced to reveal what happened to them, and how they lost so many Trolls over the years, and how it’s possible that the String isn’t even held by a Troll?

Will she go looking for this lost princess, or try to enter the Tunnels of Certain Death despite the warnings from Pop (if that’s because the tunnels are unstable, or that they haven’t befriended the Bergens, you decide)? Will she have to give up her whole tour, and now deal with the consequences of her actions?

The other tribes have to deal with the fact that because of the schism Pop caused, they lost many Trolls over the years to being eaten alive, cooked, baked, prepared in all sorts of culinary ways (headcanon that the Pop Trolls were captured for a LONG time, my own stories use 150 years at least). Obviously they didn’t deserve that, but in a twisted sort of sense, now they won’t lose their own music, since the Ultimate Power Chord can’t be completed

And then there’s Viva, probably only 12-15 years old, having defended her people, started a community, and hold the ENTIRETY of their music in her hands. Would she keep it on her at all times? Would she switch the harp/lyre for another instrument, one that’s not so suspicious? Would she find a way to hide it in Putt Putt Village, scared but content it’s the only way to keep their music safe? Paranoia says Bergen might show up, and even if she’s a happy-go-lucky Pop Troll, who’s to say someone might try to steal it? It’s powerful, honestly a weapon, it will keep her people safe and hopeful. And she promised her dad to take care of it, and she doesn’t want to disappoint. Her people’s legacy and music is in her hands, it’s a lot of responsibility. Might she even think that the other Pop Trolls lost their music since she has the String, and it’s clear they’re far away from each other. (She wishes she could share the magic of their music with her baby sister)

Anyway that was a lot of ramble for an idea that struck me 15 minutes ago

(Ps: if anyone wanna do something with this concept, feel free to do so, all I ask for is credit and to be tagged so I can see :D )

[tiptapricot]

Alright. Finally getting my thoughts together about Mando S3 episode 6! Forewarning this is a very critical and disappointed view on the episode, however I do try and be as nuanced and explanatory as I can, as just like with the rest of this season there is so much potential, so much I almost love, but it’s just not carried through or is handled in a way that makes me confused and frustrated.

This is somewhat organized, but not overly edited, so if things jump around a bit or if there’s typos, excuse me. Other than that, let’s get into it.

So this episode brings a first two seasons side quest vibe to stuff, which personally I enjoyed as I think those side quests (while many ppl see them as filler/a distraction from the main plot) are more ab exploring our characters under different stressors and circumstances and seeing how they act/react as a result. The design for Plazir was gorgeous and intriguing, and it was fun to see Jack Black and Lizzo and Christopher Lloyd. Similarly to a lot of people I had a “HEY I KNOW THOSE GUYS” moment, and it made me smile and laugh.

But then you get into the plot and I just. I was so icked out and uncomfortable and baffled at how it was handled. Plazir is, as it’s set up, an absolute fucking dystopia. Star Wars has never been good with its droid issues, something that always makes me extremely mad and uncomfortable, but beyond the Solo story, I think this may be one of the worst handlings of those issues yet.

I’ll be sharing ideas with the video “The Traegedy of Droids” by Pop Culture Detective pretty consistently in passing here, so please check it out if you haven’t or aren’t aware of what I’m talking about with “the issue with how SWs handles droids.”

The mini plot of this episode is, in summary, our main protagonists helping to carry out a targeted physical oppression of a droid revolution in order to maintain the droid’s enslaved class status and allow the citizens to continue living on free labor. Not only that, but the revolution and fighting back is revealed to not be a choice, but a drugged reaction from an evil human source. The droid bar literally called The Resistor is not, in fact, an underground place for droids to find community and power and push back (despite the fact that it proves they have off time and desires for relaxation and comraderie) but a place for our mains to be reminded that droids actually just love being an enslaved class, and that oh yes these violent push backs actually make them look bad, and what if they’re forced not to work anymore? No they care about their oppressors and couldn’t imagine fighting back. Action like that has to be forced out of them by humans and is unnatural to their regular existence.

And none of this is framed in the dystopian way it should be. Plazir and it’s leaders and citizens are not framed or presented in a negative light, and the moral is not put on helping the droids to not be the forced labor class for a whole planet. The interesting and terrible ideas presented are taken at face value of how the ruling class sees it, and we as the audience are meant to root for Din and Bo as they chase after a droid Din harassed into fighting back, who is running for its life and defending itself, who they kill. We are meant to be happy when they shoot it, feel triumph, see these outbursts the same way those on Plazir/our mains do. We are meant to see droids as both the enemy and as rightfully subservient.

And that’s. Absolutely fucking wild? Similarly to Solo and L3, I cannot fathom the thought process going through the writers brains while setting up a plot that focuses on droid revolution and freedom, only to treat it as a joke, or to end up condemning droids to a fate worse than death/to a content slave class. And all of this, again, our protagonists go along with.

Bo and Din never once question droid rights or sentience, never once go “oh hey we should actually help these guys out.” They stop the uprisings, Lizzo knights Grogu, and the story goes along its way like it was just an unimportant side quest, and not a nightmare. The mains don’t care, the writers don’t care, the world is telling the viewer not to care.

This is exemplified, unfortunately enough, with the use of the cameos. That reaction of “Omg haha! Lizzo! Jack Black! Mr Lloyd!” add to the comedic/trope-y framing of this episode. The acting was great, this is not against the actors present, I was happy to see them, but their presence added to the episode’s unserious/comedic/don’t think about it too much tone. Seeing celebrities we like takes the focus off of the content of the plot and onto “Haha people I like!” And that sours their presence for me.

And like. Droid stuff not being serious has always been around, with protagonists playing into/joking about droid oppression right from the original trilogy, but hating droids has within the mandalorian itself been built up to be unreasonable and a flaw.

Din is droid-racist. That’s been part of his character since the start, and it has been something he has grown with, that the story has attempted to show him working against despite his prejudices. Yes, he is not over his hate for droids, trusting a few will not change his views on them all, and his actions still being violent and prejudiced this episode are not totally out of character. But he’s been shown to be working on that, and the issue comes with the fact that these actions are not seen as an issue past being impulsive. Kicking a line of workers until one lashes out, saying “if they’re programmed right they shouldn’t mind,” threatening to kill a droid bartender, not questioning forced labor, being excited to kill droids, are all framed as funny or correct or just regular “fighting before talking” type characterization, and not as the deeply flawed and bigoted actions they are.

I’ve seen people in fandom saying “well it’s because of his battle droid PTSD” “din still hates droids that wasn’t resolved” “he’s not just going to be fine around the droids that killed his parents” and like. Yeah, sure. But that doesn’t excuse the actions. They should still be seen as a big fucking issue, as him acting grossly out of line and holding up a “one bad experience means the whole group is bad forever” mentality. Not just a character quirk or something funny or an excuse. The best I can liken it to atm is racism from war vets against the group they fought against. You may be able to understand the distrust and trauma associations but hey guess what! Doesn’t excuse the racism/xenophobia/etc.! But the plot and story framing sure does, and it’s been effective, because the fandom has been doing the same thing too! And it’s. Wild to me!

Like I get many people don’t think about stuff, because again that’s how the world frames it, but you gotta? You gotta see the messages being pushed here?

And from a narrative standpoint you can’t just introduce a storyline like this without dealing with the implications it therefore burdens the story with discussing. Otherwise you end up with something reductive, trivializing, and at its core really really ideologically gross, which is what we got here.

This also doesn’t even touch on:

—The further use of the amnesty program in a way that doesn’t fully dig into the messed up results or the irl parallels to operation paperclip

—Ugnaughts being the only organic labor class we see besides those monitoring security, another group that’s framed as loving to work on the things the ruling class don’t want to, and also living in the dark underground

—The implications of direct democracy and non-militant societies being seen as weak and unreasonable

—Leaders finding loopholes in their laws to intact violence into a revolting class without having to answer for the repercussions of rule breaking

Mainly because I don’t have the brain to unpack all of it. But hey! Just shows how much they introduced with no real thought of how big a can of worms it opened up from a political and social perspective. Something that while a constant in Star Wars at this point never makes it alright. It’s lazy and shows the underlying racist/capitalist politics running through most main pieces of the universe, of which this episode I’d say is probably Mando’s most outright example of. (There are exceptions, Andor being a huge one, but lord is that an exception with everything around it)

And like in concept a neo-noir detective story/procedural with the mando cast sounds awesome, that’s one of my favorite genres, but this was just good old fashioned copaganda and race/class fumble episode with no real nuance, point, or lingering effects on our characters and their view of droids. When I’m fully able to say Detroit become human did a better job handling the ideas of robot sentience/freedom/uprising/changing sides, I think you need to take a good hard look at your story.

So just. That’s that part of the episode. And that’s already so much, but then we have the ending/it’s ties into the overall plot.

From the start we get no real explanation for why Din is with Bo and no one else, what the fallout of the armorer’s decision and reveal of Bo’s place in things had on the covert or on Din and Bo. We just jump in. Then you have Din and Bo showing their individual leading strengths in the episode, the balance between diplomacy and action, heavily implying some joint ruling need, or even showing Din finally showing leadership skills.

But then we get to the final scene with the Axe and Bo fight, and I’ll say I loved that combat! Beat each other up! It was great and I think shows their competence and the statement that fighting makes in mando culture, as well as asserting Bo’s place leading her group. But then we also get two really fucking stupid things.

The first is Axe saying Din isn’t a real mando because of blood even though that? Has never really been a staple of the culture??? This opens up an idea that the night owls have different views on Mandalorian culture than the larger consensus that understands it as a religion, a culture, a people, but not a homogenous group with direct biological descent. Foundlings are huge! So where is this coming from? What’s the background there?

It muddies up a lot of character stuff, culture stuff, and the analogies Mandalorian culture has to real life groups like the Jewish community, various Indigenous and colonized communities, etc. As with so much of this season, Mandalorian culture and politics is begging to be explored, to be fleshed out and dug into in a deeper way than it has been already, and even with new ideas the writers decide to use, it’s given almost no focus. It’s frustrating and disheartening.

Second, ofc, is the Darksaber hand off. I have talked previously about one of the largest issues this season being the writers wrapping up Din’s arcs and plots with no real focus or fanfare, and this was another slap in the face in that regard. Officially, every single important thing from the end of S2 has been wrapped up either in a spin off series that shouldn’t even have had sm Din focus, or in the second episode of the third season. Everything that poised Din for a huge character arc at the end of season 2, at a fundamental change and exploration in himself, has been tossed aside. And it makes no sense to do that. So let’s go through them each!

1. Grogu. Throughout the first two seasons Din and Grogu’s relationship was a focus. It was about Din breaking rules and getting into danger to save this kid, his drive to protect him, to connect him with his people, and then to save him from Gideon. We get that line “He is more important to me than you will ever know,” and then Din has to give him away. This sets up exploring how Grogu has changed him, how that relationship has affected them both, how Din now operates without him.

But then he was reunited with Grogu relatively easily, and there has been no focus on how the newfound understanding of Grogu’s importance to Din affects their relationship now. He hasn’t even recognized himself as Grogu’s father yet, and there’s been no real bonding moments past some in the first two episodes and the background shallow cute moments in others. There’s been no side interactions of Din asking about what Grogu learned, or treasuring having him back, or reflecting on his place as a parent, or making sure he doesn’t lose him again. In episode 6 Din even leaves Grogu with strangers he’s just met for the entire episode and that has no fallout or recognition, despite one of them being an ex-imperial.

2. Breaking the creed. Throughout the first two seasons, again, Din’s faith and his adherence to the CotW’s beliefs are a huge focus. From episode one and on we get variations of the question “Why don’t you take off your helmet?” “Just take off your helmet” “don’t mandos never take their helmets off?” And we see Din is willing to die rather than break that, rather than not be Mandalorian anymore in his eyes. But he does anyway. For Grogu. A testament to not only his growth because of him, but to his commitment to Grogu over all else.

And he is in some ways hopeless because of that. He willingly takes off his helmet again to show Grogu his face before he says goodbye, because he is all Din has left at that point, all that matters in the moment.

But, of course, there is no lasting effect. Bathing in the waters, built up to be a season long arc, was aborted to being finished in episode two with relatively extreme ease, and even then, had no lingering focus on what being redeemed meant for Din. There was no questioning or clinging to faith, no discussions of how much this meant for him, no lingering on the bathing (because it was turned into a rescue action scene for Bo’s story!), no discussion of how being accepted back and cleansed affected him. One of the largest parts of the character since his introduction is. A footnote.

3. The darksaber/ruler of Mandalore story. This one’s just. Nothing. Also resolved retroactively in episode 2, and with no plot presence otherwise. To start this out, no I didn’t think Din was going to have this great rise to being Mand’alor, that was never really where the plot was going in my eyes. But no matter where it should’ve gone or what it should’ve been, it should’ve been something. Yes! He doesn’t want it! So show us why, show us what that responsibility or implication means to him, why his sect of culture doesn’t care about it, why he doesn’t believe himself to be the one to rule or unite. Make him giving it up feel as earned as if he’d kept it. This is one of the most frustrating aspects of this episode and a final straw in my vendetta against the writers.

The dark saber doesn’t even make an appearance between episodes two and six, it’s that unimportant. There is no conversation with Paz or the Armorer, who both know Din has it. There is no discussion about what it means with Jedi vs Mando history, or with Bo Katan about her history with it. This therefore makes Din having it pointless. It did nothing beyond maybe some combat scenes and the brief Butt up against Paz in BoBF. Another case of more actual plot engagement being in BoBF than the main show. There was no point for it to change hands to Din, because him having it changed nothing, made no one grow, made no one think. It affected Bo, which I’ll touch on again in a bit, but the story blooming there could’ve come around by many other means and was not tied to Din at all.

But before I dig into that aspect, the amount of times I’ve seen “Din never wanted the saber that’s why hes finding an easy loophole to give it up” “Din likes being a side character” stuff is so!!! Like!!! Yes! He doesn’t want it he doesn’t want action and responsibility and he doesn’t care about it but he is not making choices he is not real he is being written lazily! This is the writers not wanting to engage with their own character that they built up and created and set the arcs in motion for.

A show can have multiple mains, can shift character focus, but “The Mandalorian” at its inception was referring to Din Djarin and there was no precident for that focus to completely shift. This isn’t a show that changes protags every season, he used to be a shape in the title, is on the merch and the branding. And if there is meant to be a protagonist shift it has to be gradual, and to still involve his development in the impact on that other character. The explanation of “Well it’s called The Mandalorian not Din Djarin” just makes me really mad cause yeah? It is? But it’s also called Star Wars and not Luke Skywalker but we still understand he is the main protagonist, even if other characters develop and are present alongside him.

And there’s no excuse to sideline Din, because the truth is he does have growth to get, he does have arcs to explore, the only reason he’s so flat and has nothing to work towards right now is because the writers threw that away. Specifically in ways that did not make sense from a character or writing perspective.

And why is that? Because they wanted to write someone else, they wanted to write Bo Katan.

Which is exciting! I love Bo as a character from what I’ve seen of her. She is complex and flawed and has a deeply fucked up past that’s intrinsically connected to Mandalore and it’s future. That is a fascinating character to work with, and I don’t mind her being more present in Mando as it tracks for the goal of bringing Mandalorians together. But! This plot is not doing her justice either.

Throughout this season Bo has been dragged along through the shallows in her own journey. There has been no discussion of her past, of Death Watch’s terrorism and torture and murder, of Satine, of her several past attempts to lead Mandalore, of her history with the civil wars and with clan Viszla and with so much more. Which is wild, because you’d think a season which has chosen to focus on her would? Give a shit about her? Would actually engage with the character she is and what she brings to the table?

Instead she’s been handed every plot point, reduced to a girlboss leader, and her rise to getting the saber again is not only forced with no real discussion or nuance, but she’s once again been given it on a technicality. Just as Din giving up the saber is not a decision and shift earned by development, Bo getting it again isn’t either.

And as I mentioned earlier, she was affected by Din getting the saber in that it led to her people leaving her, and led her to question things, but it being Din having the saber means nothing. The same thing would’ve happened had anyone else gotten the saber, or had it been vented off into space or lost or hidden or whatever. By giving it to a specific character, that begs for interaction over that ownership, for discussion and reflection and connection with that character.

And yet there has been nothing. Bo and Din have had some good interactions, yes, but the development the show seems to want for Bo, seems to want the audience to be rooting for and going along with, is not being shown.

To make all of this more basic, the issue with this episode and this whole season thus far, is that it refuses to engage with its own ideas to a fault. It doesn’t want to get its hands messy, doesn’t want to untie the complicated and fascinating and fucked up knot it’s tied for itself. Instead it’s slicing through all of those Gordian style and leaving us to wonder about what might’ve been, about what the story seems to want to be.

I love a lot of the concepts this season, I love what it could be. I love the characters and the world and the religion and the politics, but I have to actually see what is set up, what is set in motion, what is built, to feel like I am watching the show I loved at the start.

And though it’s not as relevant to this episode, it feels relevant here: This should’ve been a Mandalorian politics season, not a new republic politics season.

Yes, they are intertwined, but at the moment the new republic development feels like a main focus, meant to set things up for further installments in the franchise or retroactively explain pst choices, and the mandalorian culture a side focus, and this has caused a detriment to both. Neither gets explored in their full complexity and nuance, and the story feels unfocused and weirdly disjointed as a result.

I’ve seen people upset by the great divide or presence of fandom negativity lately and I get that, but I feel there needs to be an understanding that people aren’t hating just to hate, this is a serious disappointment with the tanking quality of the show and it’s lack of commitment to itself. When something doesn’t deliver on what it markets itself to be, what the writing lays a basis for, that breaks trust and engagement and enjoyment, and leads to people being pissed. It happens. You can still enjoy the show, while also recognizing there is a boatload of valid criticism and issues and flawed messages that are making people uncomfortable, disinterested, and angry.

And having expectations doesnt devalue those criticisms either. I’ve seen a lot of talk of like “you wanted it to be something it’s not” and while that’s true in some cases, I had no solid ideas for this season beyond… what it showed it was going to do. And I am trying to engage with the ideas it is presenting. Again, I like the hypothetical arc at play, but the execution just. Isn’t it for me. The writing quality isn’t good and isn’t smooth and as I hope I’ve laid out, isn’t living up to its own potential or ideas.

So. Yeah.

I just want a show to be what it was begging to be, what it set itself up to be, what the characters and plot threads are wanting to be, but aren’t able to reach in their entirety. I want stuff that makes sense, that makes me think, that isn’t bigoted and lazy and frustrating. But I haven’t been getting that. And that really sucks.

TLDR: a train wreck in motion, but it was carrying cargo I would’ve loved to see.

[teecupangel]

I keep seeing this floating around and I keep thinking of Desmond and his ancestors getting drug into the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.

First off Captain Nemo showing Connor how to pilot his huge ass submarine. Aaaaand also Ezio and Tom Sawyer both endlessly flirting with Mina Harker.

I dunno. Altaïr might chill with Dr. Jekyll.

I think Desmond would be the first to catch on to Dorian Gray, or maybe Altaïr.

Either way Moriarty gives off Templar vibes and I don't think that is something that must be explained.

(also bonus Frye Twins content? They seem very likely to be involved there)

I’m going to be honest, I barely remember the movie and it’s been so long since I read the comics so I am working with what I can remember XD

Since you added Dorian Gray, I will assume that this is more in line with the movie than the comics.

For this one, Desmond and his three main ancestors get transported into the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen and they assumed they had just been transported into another time until they start realizing that, given the year, there should be information about the British Brotherhood but there’s nothing.

There wasn’t even any information about the Kenway bloodline and a quick stop to Italy would show that there are no evidence of the Auditore family and the Assassins tombs never existed at all.

It is during this time that they are approached by a man who only goes by the name ‘Bond’ who recruits them into becoming part of a league of ‘extraordinary’ people.

Bond says that his ‘employers’ have been keeping an eye on them and found them a good fit. (Mainly because of their capabilities as Assassins, especially the Eagle Vision).

They’re introduced to Quartermain who is noted to be the ‘leader’ of the group and Tom Sawyer, his… protege? Assistant? They weren’t clear. All they said was that Tom Sawyer is part of the group.

In this one, Ratonhnhaké:ton would definitely try to learn how to pilot Captain Nemo’s submarine and Captain Nemo would be more than happy to try and teach him, enjoying the young man’s enthusiasm.

Ezio would be more on the side of just casually flirting with Mina Harker as a way to get more information about her and this league of theirs. She knows this and response in kind because she tells him that they (Ezio and the others) ‘smell’ different. (We can also push for the idea that Jonathan Harker’s death still haunts Mina and Ezio can related to that, being reminded by Cristina’s own death).

Desmond though would be more inclined to talk to Dr Jekyll because of the whole two personalities in one body situation. Dr Jekyll would feel a kindred spirit with Desmond but also tell him that he will never understand the horror that the doctor is going through because Desmond accepted his Bleeding Effect and even embraced it while Dr Jekyll is stuck in hell, trying to wrestle control from his ‘other self’. Whether this turns into a bromance or a romance is up to you.

Altaïr would be the one to catch on to Dorian Gray, mostly because the four of them decided to divide and conquer to get more information about this world and talking to Quartermain is both informative but also a bit too bland so Altaïr sometimes talk to Dorian Gray. He doesn’t know his story (no one does because Desmond didn’t really read the classics but he did watch Invisible Man XD)

Speaking of which… they can all see the Invisible Man using their Eagle Vision. That’s why none of them suspect the Invisible Man when things started heating up.

‘M’ definitely gave Templar vibes and the twist can be that he is part of the Templar Order back in their own world, having changed places with the original Moriarty when he fell from the top of Reichenbach Falls. He actually transmigrated to the dead body of Moriarty and took his place.

And he held the other Assassins (Edward, Arno, Jacob and Evie) in some kind of stasis in his secret headquarters because the ‘smell’ Mina talked about it actually the otherwordly energy their bodies give off. They’re the perfect batteries to use for WMD that Moriarty had been developing in secret and it’s up to the League and the Brotherhood to stop him.

This would probably end with the Assassins leaving the Brotherhood to form… well… the Brotherhood while helping the imprisoned Assassins get back on their feet. Also, they haven’t found out how they were getting ‘sent’ in this world and that would be their priority, ending this more on the side of the League and the Brotherhood having a tentative alliance.

[dearweirdme]

Sorry to add my two cents, but this is to go along with your response to some of these anons about stop looking at the details and look at big picture first.

Get to know the individuals before you decide they’re a couple. There’s a lot of content and it’s impossible to really consume it all, and I know a lot of times when people ship, they watch content *for their ship*. My advice is to take the shipping glasses off for a bit. Watch group content: behinds, memories, lives mostly, where they’re a little more free with their actions. Pick a member and just *watch that member*. See how they interact with people, how they express themselves. Don’t just watch ship compilations because sometimes they make big things out of their usual behaviors.

Both Tae and ji kookers love to point out when JK touches the others ass. You watch content, and JK is a known “slapping all my hyungs in the ass” love language expert. Jimin flirts, so much, with most of them. His love language is touch and he shows this often by flinging himself bodily on whoever is closest when he laughs. He respects people’s space but will be draped over those that accept it, usually Tae and JK. And his main form of comforting those two (and some of the others) is that neck touch. (I couldn’t find one of my favorite vmin moments but the live anon linked reminded me of it, where Tae tries to say something but the others are all talking and he eventually goes quiet. Jimin turns to him and touches him gently and says something like “go on, I’m listening.” Jimin is that sort of friend and it warmed my soul because he’s so so caring and considerate.) (Actually, if you watch vmin and jikook there are a lot of similarities.) Tae and Yoongi both have a tendency to quietly see a need and fulfill it without saying anything (passing a water bottle, staying by Joon’s side that one muster, etc).

This is getting long but the point is you can’t really point out what’s special about a relationship if you don’t have some sense of how they relate in the first place. The members all have such beautiful friendships and relationships and you’re really missing out if you only are looking at it through the perspective of a ship and mining for evidence devoid of both the context of the moment and the person as a whole.

Sorry to rant. I have a lot of feelings, clearly. I just find if you’re really getting so concerned about another ship 1) evaluate why it means this much to you and why you’re stressed about it, maybe take a step back and 2) watch more content with more members and appreciate the bonds. There was a time I let aggressive jkkers get to me to a point it was difficult to appreciate their actual bond because I knew what jkkers would see it as, but I took a step back, realized their opinions don’t actually matter and it’s not that important to let it get to me, and watched more source jikook content. They have such a lovely friendship if you can appreciate it without looking at it as a “rival” relationship and separate it from their shippers. No one’s really threatened by vmin because they’re able to do this. Approach jikook the same way.

Lost the plot a little at the end, thank you for reading! Remember guys, if you’re not enjoying yourself and it’s stressing you out, take a step back and take a break. Remember why things made you happy in the first place.

Hi anon!

I love this ask, because that is exactly how it is. It’s exactly why I can be sure of no existing romantic relationship between Jk and Jimin and it’s also why I feel Tae and Jk are real. One of my biggest pet peeves is that some see Jk and Jimin and Tae in such a different light than I do, and I have often felt that some shippers base the characters of all three on their supposed relationship, rather than the other way around. Like.. Jkkrs often see Jk as this dominant, petty, rulebreaking person, while I see so much softness in him. They see Jimin as this submissive, fearful, person who needs Jk to protect him, when Jimin is so strong himself. They see Tae as an attention seeking, not-caring person, when Tae always cares about everyone. No wonder that people get confused about members relationships (platonic or romantic), they don’t even understand the individuals.

[riddle-me-ri]

A/N: No real explanation for this, it’s just a super, super self-indulgent piece for me to do a character deep dive into Jervis Tetch. Don’t mind me! Lol. I was stuck between doing this with either Arkhamverse or BTAS Jervis(pls request btas jervis i only have one idea for him and its meh to me rip), but decided to just do a general overall version of him. I bring up a lot of familiar character beats and woes so this can really fit most Jervi anyway. There’s a hint of smut but nothing crazy, cause it’s not entirely what it’s about. 

and I guess a wee late b-day gift for @mischievous-marchie they’re mostly to blame for this anyway given the few deep discussions we’ve had in general lmao. 

Trigger Warnings: depressive and anxious thoughts, venting, explicit sexual content (handjobs all about Jervis here sorry not sorry), mentions of violence and criminal acts, and strong language

Word Count: 3.4 k

General Mad Hatter x Reader - Love and Suds

One of the most dangerous places for anyone to go is the deep recesses of their own brain. 

People often spend many years trying to repress their horrid anxious inducing memories of their shortcomings. 

Jervis found himself lamenting his very life, in the cold solitude of his tiny living room in his tiny apartment. 

On his lucid days, he's aware…he's there in reality, painfully aware of everything; past and present.  

Jervis sees what he's done, and it shudders his whole body in shame. He doesn't mean to hurt anyone. He doesn't mean to take away their free will…well most of them anyhow. 

It's just how else can he be noticed? Be respected and be shown an iota of love? That's all anyone really needs right? That's all everyone wants. 

Suffice it to say, people want things from Jervis…they want them all the time. But never the man himself.

Fellow rogues and evil masterminds constantly come to steal or bargain for a smidgen of his technology. 

He hates to admit the times he agreed to such dealings, whether it was for the money or just a shot at actually developing some kind of alliance.

Only for it all to be spit back in his face. Nobody wanted Jervis the person…just the genius and what he could provide. 

No, Jervis was always too freakish, too awkward, too…creepy to some. 

Jervis could feel the walls slowly caving in on himself. 

All his atrocities from his raging escapades to find companionship only to find someone wasn't the one or only to be taken for a fool and used all this time. 

Which caused him to lash out in the most violent ways…

All the times he was used, chewed on and spit back out, no longer of use to them or anyone really. 

His fingers raked through his hair. Nails scratching at his scalp, fingertips pulling at his hair strands. 

He just wanted to make his Wonderland a reality. He wanted to find happiness in reality but it just wasn't possible so he had to resort to desperate…horrible…measures. 

"Didn't want to…I didn't want to…wanted company, wanted to feel loved, respected…h-h-heard…" 

Heard…heard..what's that noise?

Someone was knocking at his door.

Jervis blinked rapidly. Trying to come back into the external after spiraling into his internal conflicts. 

Who could it be? He debated just staying quiet and staying put and continuing his downward spiral. 

Yet, much like Alice of old, he was curious. 

Jervis slowly, almost reluctantly approached the door. He looked through the peephole. 

Oh, it was you. What're you doing here?

"Jervis? Are you there? I haven't heard from you…" 

Guilt welled up in his gut like bile in his throat he wanted to puke. In all his damning thoughts, you were completely void of them. Probably because you're one of the only few people in the whole world that seemed genuine. 

You…actually seemed to like him for him. Something so rare there were many days Jervis found it hard to believe you existed. 

Yet, he knew he didn't have any chips on you. Jervis has looked you over a time or two to ensure he didn’t plant one on your during any of his stupors. 

There you were though. You were a free roaming person…that willingly came to see him. 

Jervis slowly unlocked the door and was greeted by your bright relieved smile. 

"Oh my god, Jervis you're okay! I-I haven't heard from you. You haven't invited me over in awhile…umm, can I come in?" 

Back in Jervis' days before his Mad Hatter escapades, you were the only one that showed him any friendly camaraderie. 

You, of course, being the only one wasn't enough to prevent Jervis from succumbing to his last resort for more connections and more semblance of respect he lacked. 

Many times, Batman and the psychiatrists at Arkham called upon you to help him, but it was like talking to a bunch of brick walls when they asked for your opinion. 

Jervis nodded and stepped to the side and let you in. 

You looked around at the clear disarray of his living room. Blankets and comforters were scattered on the couch and floor. Lamp shades torn off. Cups and saucers littered and stacked on the table and floor. 

You hung your bag up by the door and took off your shoes, before looking back over to Jervis. 

He had definitely seen better days as well. 

His hair was coated in grease, his face sweaty and paler than usual. He looked like he had been wearing the same forest green bathrobe for days if not weeks. 

Jervis was rocking on the heels of his feet as he let you take in the outer representation of his inner turmoil and depression. 

"I…um…" Jervis tried to speak up. His heart cracked as you waited on him to continue with sincere ears. 

"Wasn't planning on having company…" He scratched behind his ear, nervously. 

"It's okay, I did pop in unannounced but…I was worried–" You began to explain your motive but was cut off. 

"Why? W-why bother…" 

You quirk your eyebrow at him for a moment. "Because I care about you…I know I haven't been around much and I feel guilty for it but I just wanted-"

"Don't waste your time or breath on me…I'm far from forgiveness and beyond help…"

You walked over and attempted to grab his hands in yours. "Jervis, that's not true, who told you that?" 

Jervis looked down at his feet, as his hands rested in yours but didn't return your endearing grip. 

You had a tight smile as Jervis decided to stop responding to you. He tended to shut down when words became too much, swirling in his head between the rhymes, his thoughts, and what he wishes to say. 

"It's okay, you don't have to say anything. But I'm not going anywhere. I'm sorry it took me so long to come back." 

You started running some water into the bathtub. Occasionally putting your hand through the water until it was warm enough to start filling the tub.

Jervis was still in the living room. Too exhausted to really argue with you to leave him be. Plus deep down he supposes he was glad to see you, before things got too dark again. 

"Hey, Jervy!" 

His heart skipped a beat, you hadn't called him that in…years. 

He turned his head down the corridor and saw your head sticking out of the bathroom. 

"I ran you a warm bath, you don't have to wash or anything, just relax, yeah? I'll pick up a little in the living room in the meantime…" You offered. 

You, you did what? You're going to do that? 

Panic softly set in, he knows this feeling. 

Something he's always felt for you, but reserved it. Pushed it down. Not wanting to hurt you after so long…or worse, like he did to most…

He hopped off the couch and made his way to the bathroom. Your smile almost made him smile back in return. 

"Just take it easy, I'll be back in a bit with a change of clothes. Just yell for me if you need anything." You pat him on the shoulder, before closing the door and you start cleaning up the living room. 

Jervis had to admit, it did feel nice being in here. The water felt like an engulfing warm hug, slowly rinsing off the grime, sweat, and dirt off his skin. The warm water caused his skin to redden a soft pink. 

His swarming thoughts from before still lingered but they were much fuzzier. Hidden behind some weird mental fog. 

The weight remained however as he fought on how to conduct himself with you. He could hear you moving around just outside the door. The clinking of dishes, the roaring of a vacuum. 

A knocking sound broke him once again from his reverie. 

"Are you doing okay, Jervy?" 

No response. Jervis tried to move his mouth and conduct words but nothing came out. 

"I'm coming in, okay? So…hide yourself." You chuckled softly. 

You entered the bathroom and were happy to see he at least got into the tub. You wanted to ask how he was, but felt it would fall on deaf ears. You set his change of clothes by the bathroom door. 

"Here, you don't need to do anything, but…" You walked over to the side of the tub, making Jervis slightly jump. 

"Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to scare you, but, we gotta do something with this hair, okay? Will you let me wash it?" 

Jervis hated to admit it but that sounded splendid right now. He was sick of his hair sticking to his face and being everywhere. He nodded. 

You smiled brightly, excited for the positive response. "Thank you, I promise I'll be gentle."

"N-no…uh…thank you…" Jervis mumbled. 

"Don't mention it. I just wish I got here sooner. Looks like you had tea parties without me." You joked, giggling softly. 

He softly mustered an amused scoff in return. You were always one to entertain his Wonderland fixation. You didn't question it or ridicule it. You understood and encouraged it. Even made a claim to being The March Hare (or The Dormouse on days when you were particularly sleepy and longed for a nap.)

You got behind Jervis' head with the bottle of shampoo and conditioner by your side and a couple of rags. You put a generous amount of shampoo in your hand and began scrubbing his strands. 

The contact was really nice and felt amazing. Better than all the beatings from Batman or the Arkham Asylum wards he was used too. 

He almost whined when you stopped. "Jervis…I'm gonna need you to breathe for me, okay?"

Jervis didn't even realize he was holding in his breath as you scrubbed his scalp. After a moment he slowly exhaled and began breathing in and out. You continued washing and rinsing his hair before repeating the process with conditioner. 

You two sat in comfortable silence with the occasional sloshing of water whenever you had to rinse Jervis' hair. 

The swelling panic deep in Jervis' gut was throbbing at this point…along with something else. 

You weren't under his mind control. 

You were still your own being. How were you so nice? You know better than anyone what he's capable of, but you choose to come anyway and you chose to stay. No matter how much distance he tried to keep from you so he didn't result in his usual…antics. 

There was no denying his feelings for you anymore, in this vulnerable and intimate state. He loves and adores you. His only friend, his March Hare…he just didn't know how to respond or react…how they say…appropriately. 

"Y-you don't have to stay here any longer. You're free to leave." Jervis came back up from rinsing the rest of the conditioner out of his hair. 

"Jervis…if you want me to go. I can, but I don't want to. I've missed you and I wanna help you." Your hands were still on either side of him in the water. 

"Why? Why do you wanna stay? Knowing very well what I can do…what I do to…what I've done." 

You took your hand out of the water and cupped his chin in the palm of your hand so he could look at you.

"Jervis, I've known you for a decade…and you've never not once offered or tricked me with any mind control whatsoever. And you want to know why?" 

Jervis nodded, but you still answered anyway. 

"Because you don't need to. You know you don't need to. And you never will need too. I can't tell you how many times I've tried to explain that to that dark dingus." You rolled your eyes at the mention of Batman. 

You could count on both hands and then some the nights that Batman was literally breaking and entering into your home to ask about Jervis and what made you special. 

It's because you were fucking kind to him. You liked Jervis. He's quirky, intelligent, and can be kind but you could only be so kind anymore after the world kicked you down so many times. 

You wondered just how small Batman's so-called "rogues gallery" would be if people were kinder to others and didn't seek to take advantage of other human beings. 

It saddened you immensely to see him go down the path he did when there was no way for you to interfere but you couldn't say it surprised you either. 

You looked back into his eyes, your hands moving from his chin to his cheek. "I'm aware of your past…transgressions. Your m/o but I'm not scared or worried. I do mean it, and you can quote that it's actually me…" 

You turned and rotated your head around to show the lack of headgear, microchips, and any other cranium influences. 

"...I care…no…I do love you Jervis Tetch. I'm not going anywhere…not anytime soon." 

There was a beat of silence as Jervis took in what you said.

You saw his lower lip start quivering as they fought to speak or keep in the growing pressure in his eyes and throat to cry. 

You smiled softly, and with zero care for getting wet; you wrapped your arms around him and embraced him. 

It took a minute but he slowly returned the gesture. You could feel him press his fingers down into your lower back and his arms tighten around you. 

"T-thank you…" He whispered softly in between sniffles. 

"Don't mention it." You let him go and sink back into the tub only to realize you're just as soaked as well.

You couldn't help but laugh as Jervis looked at you nervously when he realized he had gotten you wet. 

"It's okay. It'll dry, I figured it was a good idea to pack an overnight bag." You chuckled. 

Jervis felt guilty now, not for any reasons before, but for the way he kept stealing glances at your skin that was see through the wet white shirt. 

"Do you think you can clean yourself while I go change?" 

He could, he absolutely could. He wasn't a child. But damn it if he wasn't just the tiniest bit selfish for your touch and attention now. He didn't want you to get away. 

As if you possessed mind powers of your own, you jokingly rolled your eyes. "Okay, okay, I'll just finish what I started and then change, how is that?" 

You laughed in disbelief as for the first time that night Jervis actually gave you one of his signature giddy grins and an encouraging nod. 

You got back down on your knees beside the tub and grabbed one of the rags and lathered it with soap. 

Before you began washing his body, you playfully plopped the rag onto his face, causing you both to laugh. You did take the chance to clean his face and head but being mindful of his eyes. 

You were relieved to see Jervis start feeling better but it was even more satisfying to feel the tension in his neck and shoulders finally disappear. He was actually relaxed and loose. 

When you got lower under the water however, something stood at attention that you didn't think about and Jervis forgot to mention. 

Jervis gasped as you got closer to his groin and grabbed your wrist. "I-I can take it from here-I…I'm sorry." He ruined it. His one chance of true companionship was dashed because of stupid primal responses and desires.

"It's fine, Jervy, really." It really was fine, you didn't mind one bit. You were kind of flattered more than anything. 

"Y-You mean you don't mind?" 

You shook your head, "not at all, in fact if you allow me too…" 

Jervis gulped. He would love it if you did, actually. You caused it after all. 

"Y-yes, please." 

You leaned in and kissed his temple as your hands dove back into the water. You let your hand trail up his leg, occasionally groping his thigh as you got closer to his cock. 

Jervis gasped when your hand finally gripped the base of his cock. You slowly began stroking and tugging at the base, just to start the pace slow. With every pump you went higher and higher up until you finally got to the head. 

Jervis was a flushed red panting mess as you continued your gentle but steady strokes, occasionally squeezing his head in a way that made him whimper louder. 

Above the water's surface, you continued to peck sweet, endearing kisses along his face. His forehead, temple, cheek, nose. Everywhere he was comfortable with for now. 

You were still somewhat shaky from your confession and Jervis' lack of reciprocating or response of one, but you knew he would say it when he’s ready in due time. The fact he’s letting you stay, treat him, and “help” him…that was enough. 

You began picking up the pace, with faster and tighter strokes from his base to the tip. You saw Jervis slightly convulsing and his breathing became more raggedy and heavy. You were so focused on getting him to the precipice of pleasure that you almost didn’t feel his hand come up to your cheek. 

“C-can I…can we…k-kiss?” He managed through his groans and whimpers. 

The elation you felt as you happily leaned in and pressed your lips gently with Jervis’. You felt the quick intake of air through his nostrils. Your lips vibrated slightly as he groaned into your lips, before sighing contently. When you pulled back and broke the kiss, you smiled at the look of pure bliss on his face. 

A complete opposite of the stern, tensed forlorn expression he had when you first walked into the door. 

You removed your hand from the tub and got up and began actually drying off your hands and arms.

Jervis was about to finally get out of the water that has already gone cold a long time ago, but was taken aback by your next actions.  

Without so much as a second thought you removed your top and bottoms right there in front of him and changed into the light blue puffy shirt that he was supposed to change into. 

You didn’t notice how you absolutely stunted the neuroscientist as you quickly made your way out of the bathroom. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back with a change of clothes for you!” 

When the door shut and you left. Jervis was left alone again, to really let it all sink in what just transpired. 

The way his heart was skipping beats but with love and elation more so than anxiety and guilt. The smile on his face wasn’t turned up, crooked and mad. It was natural and it felt nice for once. 

Jervis quickly got out before you could shock him again and began drying himself off. His back was towards the door as you opened it with a fresh shirt, pants, and underwear. You slowly crept behind him and put your hands over his eyes. 

Jervis gasped slightly from the shock, before chuckling at your playfulness. 

“Guess who?” You whispered sing-songy in his ear. 

“Hmm…oh is it the Cheshire Cat? The Carpenter? Or-or the Walrus?”

You laughed softly. “Nope, I’m actually invited to the Tea Party.” 

“Dormy?” 

You shrugged. “On my more sleepy days, absolutely.”

“Oh, I know.” Jervis reached up and grabbed your hands and removed them from his eyes. He turns around and smiles at you. “It’s my darling March Hare.”

“But of course.” You smiled as you pulled him into your arms. You gave him a kiss on his nose and reluctantly let him go. 

“I’ll let you get dressed, its not too late and I doubt you’ve eaten anything. I’ll make something quick and then we can head to bed, how does that sound?” You opened the door, about to head to the kitchen. 

Jervis smiled widely, beaming with happiness and love he hasn’t felt in such a long time. “That sounds splendid, my dear.” 

“Perfect! See you soon!” With that you left the bathroom again and began whipping some stuff up in the kitchen. 

As he changed, Jervis couldn’t help but smile in pure delight. All his memories and thoughts that were weighing on him and suffocating him finally dissipated like steam from a tea pot. He had someone that cared for him, not just for what he could do but for who he is. 

The notorious Mad Hatter of Rogue Gallery infamy. The lonely wretch that is Jervis Tetch. 

When he is with you. He felt he actually had a chance.