#this was a very quick one. and the pattern was pretty easy to make too

[simplelobster]

FMABRUARY day 16: family

I think one of my favorite reveals in fma is that the flamel Ed and Al wear isn't just a random alchemy thing, and instead a sign of their teacher.

This was my first time dying fabric and i had a blast! it's a really fun, if time consuming project.

Pattern below cut :3

DMC 310 for all of it

14ct AIDA

Unless you're buying from a actual cross stitch store you won't get AIDA in this color, so i just took regular white AIDA and dyed it with RIT dye. It tuned out prefect with just the red and so no need to add anything else.

Project is about 1inch width 2inch height. made for a 4inch hoop. about an hour and a half to make.

please tag me if you decide to make it <3

[spencewalterreid]

If "I Love You" Was A Promise

Summary: Your mind has been unkind to you as of late, and Spencer picks up on it. He comes over to try to get you to open up.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN reader

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: very self-deprecating, physical abuse if you squint (reader shoves Spencer), mean!reader but they don't mean it, mental breakdown (like... total meltdown), yelling, no use of y/n, Spencer being a sweetie, I think that's it.

Word count: 3k

Author's Note: I truly do love me some angsty angst. I've been going through a gloomy patch recently and wanted to just write a super self-indulgent comfort fic. enjoy enjoy enjoy

You met Spencer a few months ago at a bookstore and you were quick friends. He’s brilliant, great to talk with, and you like a lot of the same media. However, he also happens to be an FBI profiler, which means he thinks he knows everything about everyone all of the time. You’re getting pretty fucking sick of it. He noticed oh-so-astutely that you were going through some shit, and asked under the cover of a movie night to accompany you to your house. Blindingly naive, you agreed. That’s how you ended up in front of him in a heated argument about your current state of mind.

"I don't know what you want from me, Reid! This isn't any of your goddamn business. Just because I've been distracted doesn't mean you need to give me a fucking house call!" you shout, your hands pulling at your hair to ground yourself. "This has nothing to do with you."

Spencer held up his hands in a placating gesture, his voice calm and measured as he responded. "Okay, let's take a deep breath. I'm not trying to overstep any boundaries here."

He studied your body language intently - the way your hands gripped your hair, the tension in your shoulders. The distraction, the frustration, it was all rooted in something deeper, something that had nothing to do with their current argument.

"Tell me this," Spencer said, his tone gentle yet firm, "is there a pattern to these distractions? Have they been getting worse over time?" He leaned in slightly, his gaze locked onto yours. "Sometimes, it helps to talk things out with someone else. And right now, I'm here to listen."

Spencer was acutely aware of the small, cluttered apartment around him – the scattered books and papers on the coffee table, the faint smell of coffee that lingered in the air. He used the familiarity of the space to center himself, to keep his focus on understanding the root of your distress.

"I'm not here to judge or criticize," he assured you, his voice low and soothing. "I just want to make sure you're okay."

In that moment, Spencer's mind raced with possibilities, trying to piece together what the hell your problem was. Was this distraction tied to a past trauma, a family issue, or something else entirely? As an FBI profiler, he knew that the key to understanding a person's behavior lay in their history, their experiences, their upbringing.

"Talk to me," Spencer encouraged gently, his tone warm yet authoritative. "I'm here to listen. Please?" He held out his hand, a silent offer, and waited for you to open up to him. Yeah, right.

"God, stop being so fucking you for a minute!" you stomp up to him, about 2 feet away, and shove at his chest. "Act like a goddamn human, for once in your life! Would it kill you? Huh?"

Spencer stumbled back from the sudden shove, caught off guard by the contact. His heart raced as he felt the warmth of your hands against his chest, the bloom of dull pain. He was shocked. No one had ever laid hands on him like that before, no one he cared about at least, and especially not you.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to process the surge of emotions that flooded through him. If the breath was meant to keep tears at bay too, then maybe you didn’t need to know that.

"I... I know I'm not always easy to understand," Spencer said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know your mind works differently than most people's. But I'm trying... I'm trying to be here for you, in whatever way I can."

"Stop it!" you shout. "Stop trying to be unaffected. Stop trying to act like my fucking therapist, because you aren't! You... Don't... Know.. Me." you pause between each word, your finger in his face. "Stop trying to fucking profile me. Act like you have any sort of goddamn emotion, for once in your life!"

Spencer flinched as if struck, your finger hovering inches from his face. The harsh words hung heavy in the air between you, a bitter sting he couldn't shrug off like he might an insult from a suspect.

For just a moment, he faltered. He knows he's insecure, it's one of his biggest flaws, but he thinks maybe right now he should be. Maybe he's stepped too far. Maybe this isn't his place.

He shrugs that off just as soon as it comes. This is more important than being polite.

He swallowed hard, feeling the weight of your frustration, your anger, your desperation. It was raw, visceral, a maelstrom of emotion he struggled to comprehend. Slowly, deliberately, he reached up and wrapped his hand around your wrist, gently lowering your finger from his face.

"You're right," he said, his voice low. "I'm not your therapist. I'm not perfect.”

He paused, words careful with his gaze locked onto yours. "But know this... I care about you. More than I can express. And I'm trying.”

Spencer's other hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over the heated skin. "I may not always show it in ways you expect... but I do have feelings. This isn’t fair, you have to know that.” His eyes brim with unshed tears, as if pleading with you to apologize. He sincerely doubted he'd get that, at least right now.

His voice dropped to a whisper. "Tell me what you need. Tell me how to do this, because I’m at a loss.”

"Stop it! Stop, stop, stop!" you scream, pounding at his chest once more before turning to dig your fingernails into your scalp. "God, you're such a fucking asshole! You don't have a goddamn clue what you're talking about. You've only known me for a couple of months! You couldn't possibly-" your voice catches in your throat, but you choke down a sob. You couldn't possibly love me. You firmly remind yourself he did not say that. Why would he?

Spencer stumbled back, his stomach and a twist and head spinning as he absorbed the brutal impact of your fists against his chest. He tries to keep in mind that you aren’t trying to hurt him, you’re just overwhelmed. He’s having a hard time believing it.

He reached out, trying to grab your wrists to still your frantic movements. But you wrenched away, pacing the small room like a caged animal. Spencer stood frozen, watching the scene in front of him, cinematic in its drama.

"Just because I haven't known you long doesn't mean I don't care about you," he interjects, voice tensely controlled. "You don't get to tell me what I feel or don't feel."

He took a step closer, then another, until he stood behind you. Gently, carefully, he placed his hands on your shoulders, warmth seeping into your tight muscles.

"I can't pretend to know everything you've been through. I can't claim to understand what you're going through, especially 'cuz you won't tell me anything," he sighs. "But I see you, or I'm at least trying to. I see the strength in you, the resilience, the courage.” His fingers tighten minimally in support, pausing a moment. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be damned if I let you face this alone."

That did it.

One sentence, and the dam is breaking. Months of grief, loneliness, and a lifetime of being a last priority come crashing into you all at once. Your knees buckle at the weight of it as sobs wrench your body. "Get out," you demand, but your hands wrap firmly around his arms. "Get out. Please." You shake your head. "Please, Spencer, go home." You press back into him, curling into his warmth. "You're such a fucking dick."

Spencer held on tighter, holding you up with a grip around your waist.

"Okay," he murmured. "Okay, I'll go. If that's what you need."

But he didn't let go. He couldn't. Not yet. Not until he knew you were steady. Not until he knew, without a doubt, that you meant it.

"Tell me this first," he pleaded softly, his cheek pressed against the top of your head. "Tell me you know you're not alone. That you have someone in your corner, no matter what."

His arms tightened, a silent vow. "I know we're not close, I know I'm not always the easiest person to deal with. But I'm trying. I'm trying to be what you need me to be."

He stood there, holding you through your sobs. It impressed you, the resolve of him. It impressed you that he didn’t get pissed, as much as you wanted him to. You aren’t used to gentleness. You’d rather fight than stand in front of someone who’ll just let you cry.

The wails leaving your throat embarrass the living shit out of you, and you know tomorrow you'll hate yourself for it, but right now you’re grateful. "I'm sorry," you cry. "I'm so sorry. So sorry, Spencer." You empty your lungs completely with your sobs, then refill them just to empty them again. "I hate you. I hate you," you repeat, holding his arms with a bruising grip as he gently lowers you onto the floor despite his unrelenting germaphobia. He winces. "I hate you."

The mindfulness applied was the kind he usually reserved for crime scenes. He sat behind you, cradling your trembling body against his chest, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your back as the other held your hand.

"Shh, it's okay," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "You don't need to apologize. You don't need to hate anything right now except maybe the hand dealt to you."

He rocked you gently, matching the rhythm of your ragged breaths. "I know you're hurting. I know it’s confusing. But please, don't hate yourself for feeling. Don't hate yourself for needing someone to be here for you."

Spencer's hand slid up to cup your cheek, tilting your face towards his. He thumbed away the tears that fell in steady streams, his own eyes a pool of their own. "Hate me if you need to. I can take it. I can take anything, as long as you're not hating yourself. None of this is your fault."

He leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. "You're allowed to feel. You're allowed to break. You're allowed to scream and cry and rage until you have nothing left. And I'll be right here, picking up the pieces, gluing you back together.” He pulled back just enough to watch you for a moment, your cheeks burning ever hotter. “I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

Your breath catches on a hiccup. "Don't say that," you beg. "Please," you sob. "Don't you say that to me. You don't know me, Reid." your voice is totally wrecked, you sound like a toddler throwing a tantrum. "You don't know what you're saying, you-" your breath catches, then another, then another, and then before you know it you’re hyperventilating.

What you didn’t say was, when you say it out loud, it becomes a promise. What you didn’t say was, I trust you. To say that is to make a promise you will not keep. To say that is to promise to break my trust. What you didn’t say was, To say that is to lie.

Spencer felt a surge of panic as your breathing grew rapid and shallow, your body shaking violently in his arms. He tightened his grip, a fierce, protective hold, as if he could physically keep you anchored. A folly effort, but you appreciated it nonetheless.

"Hey, hey, slow down," he urged, his voice calm and steady despite the fear gripping his heart. "You're okay, you're safe. I've got you."

He slid his hand from your cheek to the back of your neck, tilting your head down towards your knees. "That's it, just like that. Breathe with me. In and out. Slow and steady."

"Don't- don't- don't- d-" You tremble like a fucking leaf. Pathetic. You try to calm down enough to say this because you know it needs to be said: "Don't make- make- don't make pr- promi- promises you ca- can't- can't keep."

Spencer’s heart drops. What did he do wrong?

He didn’t quite know what to say, but he made an effort anyway. "You need to breathe, sweetheart. You need to breathe through this, one breath at a time.”

You lean down to softly press your lips against his hand, still shivering. Shaking. "I'm so sorry," you whisper. "I'm sorry. This is so pathetic."

"Hey, hey, none of that," Spencer soothed, turning your face towards his. He brushed away a lingering tear with his thumb, his gaze locked onto your red-rimmed eyes. "Being human isn't pathetic. Feeling, caring, needing... that's what makes you beautifully, perfectly human."

The smile on his face is sad, but genuine. He lays his hand on the side of your head, dragging a thumb across your temple. “I'm here because I want to be. Because I choose to be. Your strength and your vulnerability, they're a part of what draws me to you. Never apologize for being who you are."

"Can you stay?" you whisper feebly. "I mean, you don't-" you hiccup. "Don't feel pressured, of course. You know what?" You force a smile, which appears hopelessly pathetic considering the salt stains marring your cheeks. "I'm actually okay. I'm so okay. You can go home, Spencer. Go get some rest. Sorry." You move to get up, but his hold tightens. He mets your gaze, his voice low and firm. "No. I'm not going anywhere. I told you... I'm staying right here, with you."

He adjusted your position, lying down and gathering you fully into his arms, holding you close against his chest. "Rest now," he murmured, stroking your hair. "I'll be here when you wake up." Spencer pressed a soft kiss to your hair.

You chuckle without any meaning. "Spencer, no. Not on the hardwood floor," you say apologetically, sitting up. "You can take the bed. I'll sleep on the couch. C'mon, get up."

Spencer reinforced his embrace, not letting you pull away as he sat up slowly. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the last of their tears. "I'm not leaving you alone. End of discussion."

He stood, pulling you up with him, then guided you down the hallway, to your bedroom, then to sit on the edge of the bed beside him. Spencer's arm remained wrapped around your shoulders, a constant, comforting presence.

"I'll sleep here, with you. I won't leave your side." His voice softened, a gentle caress. "Please don't ask me to go, not now. I need to be here for you.”

"Spence-"

"No," he interjects. "No. Lay down. I'm gonna get you some water, I'll be right back."

He pats the bed behind you. Sluggish, you settle back into the plush mattress, encircling yourself in the comforter, dragging it right up to the bottom of your chin. You huff.

Spencer returned a moment later, a glass of water in hand. He set it on the bedside table and looked down at you, sympathy written all over him as he observed your closed eyes and the way you had curled in on yourself, still sniffling in the aftershocks.

Gently, he sat on the edge of the bed, his weight causing it to dip slightly. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingertips grazing your cheek. You felt warm, almost feverish.

"Hey, sweetheart..." Spencer's voice was soft, almost a whisper. He leaned in closer, his breath ruffling the hair he had just smoothed. "I know you're not asleep."

His hand slid down to your shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. "Talk to me. What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?" Spencer's words were gentle, a nudging request. Not a demand. Never a demand. He wanted to know you were okay, but he wouldn't force it out of you. If you were going somewhere dark, he wanted to follow you with a flashlight in hand, but only if you'd let him.

"Go to bed, Spencer."

Spencer's brow furrowed, stubbornness hard-set on his face. He didn't move from his perch on the edge of the bed, his hand still resting firmly on your shoulder.

"No. You can’t go to bed feeling like this. It could cause nightmares, increased cortisol levels, and I know you’ll have a headache in the morning if you don’t drink water." He took a deep breath, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your shoulder. "Please, talk to me. Let me help carry this burden with you. I'm stronger than I look, I promise."

You smile, your eyes still closed. "You look plenty strong," you reply. "Please, go to sleep. I'm tired."

Spencer's eyes narrowed, not convinced. “Look at me. Please." When you didn't immediately comply, he gently squeezed your shoulder. “I know you're hurting, and I know you’re tired, but you can’t end the night like this.”

He paused, his posture wilting in his frustration.

You open your eyes and roll onto your back. "Drop it, Reid. It's late, I just cried my fucking eyes out, I want to go to bed. Now, either lay your pretty ass down, or go sleep on the couch."

Spencer studied your face, trying to settle the odds with himself. Accepting defeat, he finally relented with a soft sigh. "Fine.”

He slipped off his shoes and climbed into bed beside you, being mindful not to jostle you. Settling onto his back, he turned to face you, a gentle hand coming to rest on your waist. "Goodnight," he murmured, eyes already heavy with fatigue. "Sleep well."

"Can I-" You turn toward him, but shut your mouth before you ask. "Nevermind. Goodnight."

Spencer felt you shift, turning to face him. “No, what were you going to say?”

You hum, trying to decide how to phrase it. “It was nothing.”

“Here,” he offers, lifting the arm nearest you, inviting you to curl into him. He’s always so observant. Despite your thus-short friendship, he knew exactly what you wanted. You complied.

"Sleep well, sweetheart," he repeated, his hand on your waist giving a gentle, comforting squeeze. "I'll be right here when you wake."

[himbodruid]

Promised Wildfire

Rafayel x reader

You make a trip to one of Rafayel’s exhibitions to surprise him. How will he react to the surprise? 😏

An expansion on the Promised Wildfire secret times

-:- thigh fucking -:- marking -:- you try to seduce him but he turns it back around -:- “painting”

Fic Masterlist

INTENDED FOR 18+ READERS. MINORS DNI

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was a split second decision that made you seek out the hotel Rafayel was staying at, even though the original plan was to meet with him on his return to Linkon in the morning. You were sad that you had to miss the exhibition that he was the guest of honor of, but work kept you preoccupied until you got on the plane.

Getting a key to his room had been suspiciously easy, though the two of you had gone very public with your relationship a little over a month ago. It was almost impossible for you to go anywhere in Linkon without someone recognizing you because of how much he loved to show you off. But you had to wonder if he expected you to come by, and had the hotel put your name on the room too.

So you waited for him in his room, wearing nothing but the lacy negligé you’d grabbed at the last minute before leaving Linkon. You paced between the couch and bed, not sure which would be more enticing to him once he arrived back in his room. You didn’t even know when he would arrive. The show was supposed to last until late evening, but Rafayel enjoyed socializing at the after parties as well, and could be out until who knew when.

As soon as you began questioning your decision, you heard the door handle turn. You had been standing between the bedroom of the suite and the sitting area, but rushed back to the bed to perch at the edge in what you hoped would be an alluring pose.

Rafayel was on the phone, and you could see a bored expression on his face through the crack in the bedroom door. He paced the sitting area, hand on his hip and phone against his ear. He was dressed extravagantly, as usual, and you let your gaze sweep over his beautiful form, from broad shoulders to his narrow waist that fit so nicely between your thighs. You felt your face flush when he slipped out of the maroon jacket, watching his back and shoulders strain against the intricate pattern of his shirt.

“Really, Thomas?” He said, rolling his eyes. “Another last minute event?”

He listened for a moment, turning when he noticed a dim light coming from his room. He paced closer to the door and froze, brow furrowed in confusion and concern at the unexpected intrusion.

“Well, duh. Of course I can't make it. I gotta return to Linkon tomorrow- smell ya later.” He tossed the phone aside haphazardly.

“Is someone there?” His question was stern, but then his eyes widened when he stepped into the room and took in your scantily clad figure draped across his bed. A pretty blush spread across his face, even as mischief sparkled in his eyes.

“Cutie, why are you here so early?” He chuckled, striding closer to you.

“Mmm, too much time’s passed since I saw you last. I missed you.”

“You missed me sooo much that you decided to give me a surprise visit? Are we trying for a new romantic escapade here?”

“Mmmmmmaybe.” You gripped his tie and tugged him closer. His hand found your knee, deft fingers brushing your skin with feather-light touches.

“Okay, I’ll admit your surprise was perfect.”

“Is that so?” You teased him, looking up at him through your lashes. His eyes were darkened by desire and his mouth was quirked in a cheeky smile. A finger came up to smooth a trail along your neck, more of those feather touches that made you shiver and goosebumps pebble your skin.

“I’m excited,” he said, leaning down close to you. “You have no idea. It’s almost like butterflies are about to burst from my chest.”

Feeling bold, you closed the gap and kissed him gently. Just a quick, teasing press of your lips against his. He breathed a chuckle.

“Was this sneak attack also part of your surprise?”

You tried to hide your smile by biting your lower lip, but failed. His gaze zeroed in on the action before flicking back to your eyes. Another breathy chuckle escaped him.

“Ahh…your kiss couldn’t stop the butterflies from flying out of my heart.”

He crowded you against the edge of the bed, not quite crawling atop you. His arm held your legs together, hand caressing the backs of your thighs. Your breath hitched when he tilted your chin up, mouth hovering just above yours.

“But this is how you do it,” he whispered to you. And then he leaned in the rest of the way, capturing your lips in an unhurried kiss that sent heat straight to your core. His hips rolled forward and you could feel the length of him hardening against your thigh. Soft moans escaped him as he coaxed your mouth open to plunge his tongue in. You responded to him in kind, losing control of the situation every second it went on.

“Miss Bodyguard,” he murmured against your lips. His hand trailed down, down, until he found your slit between your thighs. A sharp inhale sounded when he realized you wore nothing down there to conceal yourself from him. “You’ve given me quite a surprise. How should I repay you?”

“Mmmh, how about a nice kiss,” you breathe as he continued to explore your folds, slicking your thighs with your arousal.

“Sure, I can kiss you,” he said, resting his forehead against yours.

“Let's start with just above your eyes-“ he kissed your brow, a painfully tender touch of his lips against your skin.

“Your nose-“ he kissed the very tip of your nose, causing you to giggle.

“Ears…” he dipped his head, lips lingering against the spot just below your ear. When he move back, his teeth scraped your lobe in passing. A moan escaped you, and your hands clenched his shirt and tie.

“And lips, too.” He devoured you again and you opened to him willingly, tangling your tongue with his with shared moans. His hips rocked against your thigh and you could feel him standing at full attention now, even as confined as he still was in his trousers.

“I’ll make sure to say hello to each of them,” he said. He placed his forehead against yours again, those damnably beautiful eyes of his bouncing between yours.

“It’s been so long,” he said. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Rafayel.” He groaned when you said his name, unable to keep from kissing you over and over and over again, all while his hips seemed to move of their own accord.

You shifted as his nimble fingers continued playing with your slit, but never entering you. You longed for him to slide them into you, or better yet, his cock. Your squirming didn’t go unnoticed.

“Don’t move. I want to savor this moment. I’m always scared that you’re just a figment of my imagination.” His breathy confession made your heart lurch.

“I really am here, Rafayel,” you murmur to him, nipping at his lower lip when you leaned in to kiss him. He didn’t even try to hold back his moan. You were exceptionally appreciative of how vocal he was about his pleasure, the sounds he made shooting straight to your core.

“You’re real. And warm. It’s like I’m being enveloped in a pool of water.”

You weren’t sure the metaphor was the same for him, but you sure felt like your head was swimming. So much stimulation from him, and he hadn’t even begun to have his way with you yet. You were definitely no longer in control of this seduction.

“I don’t want to let you go, I could hold you like this forever.”

“Is that so?” Feeling another wave of boldness, you all but ripped his tie from him. The action was aggressive, but still he moaned.

“What are you-“ his question was cut off when you managed to wrench his wrists together and wrapped the tie firmly around them. You gave him a self-satisfied grin, though you mourned the loss of his touch.

“When I said I wouldn’t let go,” he chuckled. “I wasn’t giving you permission to tie me up.”

He wedged himself between your knees so that he could lean over you, his bound wrists above your head. You hissed in a breath when he nipped at your neck.

“And…you did it with my own tie, no less.”

“It’s just your punishment for not coming back sooner. I’ve been waiting for you for so long,” you admonished, tapping him on the nose. He huffed a chuckle.

“Fine, fiiine. Punish me however you want, cutie.”

You tugged the tie upwards so that his hands would slide out from where he rested his weight on them. The action brought him closer to you until he was half-laying on you.

“Ouch,” he chuckled. “An artist’s wrists are precious, you know.”

His lips hovered over yours and it was a battle of wills that heightened the senses.

“But you’re very very cute, right now. I don’t mind being tied up by you.”

“Mmm so you mean I can do it more? I’ll hold you to that.”

You smoothed your hands down his chest, feeling the firmness of the muscle beneath the fabric. He let out a shaky exhale.

“This shirt is too tight. Can you help me unbutton it?”

Your fingers obediently began working at the buttons. You paced yourself, although you wanted to just rip the shirt from him. But the heated expression he gave you was worth the slow progress. You stopped half way down to touch him, running your hands down his chest and back up.

“It's still too tight…keep unbuttoning it,” he demanded breathily. And so you did. But you didn’t stop at just his shirt. A grin spread across your face when you unbuttoned and unzipped his dress slacks.

He closed his eyes when you palmed him through fabric at first, his breathing becoming laboured when you freed his cock fully and stroked him. He pressed his hips forward to chase your touch when your hand slid to the tip of him. Moaned when you pressed your thumb against the underside of his glans. You were enjoying the flush of his pretty face, the breathlessness, the way his body reacted to your touch. Maybe you could regain control of the situation, after all.

“You broke the rules,” he groaned. He took your legs and lifted, placing your calves against his shoulders while you stroked him faster. “Getting straight to the point, huh?”

You continued to work at his cock, and he watched while placing kisses against your ankles and calves. His moans grew in intensity before he suddenly jerked back, out of your grip.

“Okay, you can stop now..” he whined.

“Rafayel?” His name fell from your lips in a breathier moan than you intended.

“We’ve only been separated for a few days. And you somehow managed to become so bold.”

He shifted your legs again so that both of them rested together on a single shoulder. He pulled you so that you lay flush against him where he stood at the edge of the bed, the lingerie bunching up to expose even more of your curves to him. Your newly unoccupied hands turned to grip at the sheets above you while he looked down at you with a predatory glint in his eye.

“Then..does that mean I can also be a little bold… and spice things up?” His chuckle turned into a sigh of longing. You noticed, then, the tie dangling from only one of his wrists.

“Wait, how did you break free?” You were quickly relinquishing control back to him, it seemed.

“That’s something I can’t tell you. A slippery fish like me can’t be caught so easily.” He let out a breathy chuckle at his silly little rhyme and positioned himself. But he didn’t enter your slicked folds. Instead his cock pressed between your thighs, just above your mound.

“R-Rafayel,” his name came from you on a pleasured breath.

“At this point,” he said, drawing his hips back and then pressing forward into your thighs again. “Begging or running away won't help.”

The sight of him fucking your thighs was nearly your end. Beautiful man that he was, it was never something you would have expected from him. Especially not when you were trying to seduce him. He did a very fine job at turning this seduction back on you and you shivered in anticipation.

“I forgot to turn on the AC…it’ll be hot in here soon enough.” With that, his thrusts into your thighs became long strokes punctuated by his moans. He turned his head to kiss wherever he could on your legs. Your heart thundered in your chest watching him take pleasure from such a simple thing, and you could feel heat building in your core rapidly. This explained why he was insistent in spreading your natural lubricant along the backside of your thighs only moments prior.

Every few thrusts, his gaze would snap to yours. And every time it did, your breath would hitch at the intensity you saw there. He was enjoying this as much as you were, and you were almost certain he knew the sounds he made were driving you insane. Watching him pleasure himself on you was one thing, but every single one of his moans shot straight through you until you couldn’t hold back your own sounds.

And then his hips jerked forward almost violently, his release spilling onto your stomach and pelvis with a hissed moan from him. It was the single most arousing thing you had experienced, and you couldn’t help squirming under him even as he gripped your thighs to keep you still.

“I only touched this and you’re already flushed,” he teased, squeezing your thighs in his grasp before letting go. He slid your legs from his shoulder, opening you to him completely once more. His cock rested heavy against your pelvis, still hard as he took in the mess he made of you.

“I guess Miss Bodyguard is a blank canvas,” he said. He reached down, flattening a hand against your stomach and spreading his seed further against your skin.

“Mmh. I painted a masterpiece on your body, and only I get to admire it.”

He pulled away from you then to shed the rest of his clothing, barely breaking eye contact with you as he did. You shifted backwards onto the bed as he crawled over you until you both rested in the center. His weight pressing you into the mattress, his cock waiting eagerly at your entrance..it was all almost too much for you and you shuddered with anticipation again. You looked down and saw his sculpted stomach resting against yours without a single regard for the mess that slicked there.

“What if I wanna see how beautiful your painting is?” You whined, biting your lip. He chuckled, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

“It’s not finished, yet,” he said, thrusting into you with a guttural moan. Your arousal was at such heights that he glided in without the need to adjust to his size. And you were glad for that, because you wanted him viscerally. You were feral for him, and you wrapped your legs around his hips to lock him to you.

You knew he could feel your need because he set a punishing pace. His mouth roamed your body even as his hips collided with you over and over. Your moans mingled with his, rising to duet the lewd sounds of him pistoning in and out of you.

And then his mouth latched onto your neck, sucking the spot until he was satisfied a mark would be there for some time. He could already see it purpling when he finally let go, and he groaned at the sight.

“I wanna leave my mark here,” he kissed the mark he made.

“And there.” He latched onto your collarbone to draw up another.

“Yes…everywhere,” he moaned when he saw his new mark. And so he went about leaving a trail of those marks while he thrust into you. The sensations surrounding you were overwhelming and all you could do was cling to him.

“Mmmh, oh fu-“ he breathed, freezing and trying to pull from you.

“No,” you growled, locking your ankles so he couldn’t. “Inside.”

“In that case,” he said, thrusting forward. Hard. “I willingly surrender myself to you.”

And so he did. His thrusts grew erratic as he chased his release. Your own built and overflowed so rapidly, all you could do was cry out his name and dig your nails into him. The fluttering pulse of your climax wrapped around his cock was just the push he needed. His hips twitched and his body jerked as he flooded you, whining moans escaping him at the overwhelming rush of sensations.

When you finally came down from the high, your lips lazily found his again. He kissed you in such a painfully tender way, nuzzling into your neck between such kisses. It took some time before either of you could breathe without heavy panting, and you reveled in the way his body continued to press yours into the luxurious mattress.

Your eyes roamed him, taking in every detail of the moment to lock it away in your memories. Your eyes fell on the various marks dotting your body and a thrill jolted through you. You liked being marked by him. Being claimed in such a primal way. And yet..

“Mm, this is unfair,” you said. He pulled back to look at you with confusion in his eyes.

“What is?”

“All these marks on me and not a single one on you!” You feigned a pout and he snorted a laugh, relaxing back into you.

“Well then. You could leave a mark on me, right? It’ll be yours.”

And so you did. Your mouth found his neck and latched on, drawing your own mark up against his skin. His moan was a whimper in your ear and his hips pressed forward again. He was panting, moaning, whining, squirming as your mouth remained secured to his neck. When you finally let him go, he whimpered a soft ‘ow’.

“You’re greedy, aren’t you?” He asked, breathless.

“Mmmh, yup,” you say, your mouth finding his chest to leave another mark there.

“Making me surrender isn’t enough?” He whined.

“I want to leave my mark on you, too,” you say when you release him once more.

“All right then,” he said, tilting his head to the side to give you better access to his neck. “Don’t miss a single spot.”

You left your own trail of marks as he took you again. You were surprised to find that even after his second climax, he was still hard inside you. Every mark that you left on his skin was met by his shuddering, breathy moans. If you tried to stop, an adorable pout would entice you back to your task, all the way until he thrust deep into you again with a guttural moan signalling his release.

You rested with him for some time, a companionable silence spreading between you. He laid atop you, arms wrapped around you with his ear against your chest so he could listen to your heartbeat. You let your hand card through his soft waves in a tender touch. You were certain he’d fallen asleep at some point, but then he sat up and tugged you off the bed with him.

He carried you into the bathroom, stripping the lingerie you were wearing, running the bath and kissing you while waiting for the tub to fill. And then he gently lowered you into the bath, the water hot enough to almost scald- it was perfect. He remained outside the claw foot tub, pampering and caring for you- brushing your hair, using a soft cloth on every inch of your skin, etc. The pout he gave when he realized that he’d washed away the seed he spilled on your abdomen made you laugh. You leaned in, giving him a kiss. A kiss he quickly took over, plunging his tongue into your mouth.

Next thing you knew, he was in the tub with you, pumping into you again and making the water slosh over the edges. Your voices echoed in the tiled room as he took you again and again. You were sure you would be leaking his cum for days by the time he was done with you.

“No more,” you begged him with quivering limbs after he carried you back to bed, and utilized your overstimulation to bring out yet another climax with his skilled tongue. “Rafayel, I can’t take any more.”

He chuckled and relented. He wrapped himself around you, spooning you against him and laying the comforter over you. He buried his nose against the back of your neck, inhaling deeply. He enjoyed the smell of his scent mixed with yours on your skin, another way that he was able to claim you.

The warmth of his embrace lulled you into sleep as the sun began to peek over the horizon.

[kooberryfields4ever]

hehe😏😏 what did i say😏😏 finally posting this after more than half a year of abandoning the idea!!!!!!!! as a long time jungkooker i have observed his mannerisms for a while and i think my delusions will guide me down the right path <333 please let me know ur thoughts and as always my asks/requests are very much open to both hard and soft thoughts!!!!!! 🥺

content warnings : nsfw below the cut, handjobs, jerking off, mentions of oral, mentions of cumming inside, unprotected sex, protected sex, boobs, yadda yadda its the nsfw alphabet what do u expect😒

MDNI !

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

the sweetest <3333

cannot imagine jungkook being anything but attentive and romantic when he tends to u after sex

also cant see him as too dominant or rough during sex so aftercare is probably just kisses cuddles and pillow talk

maybe some boob groping because he cannot help himself

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

do i even need to say it

boobs, boobies, tits, honkers, knockers, breasts etc

LOVES UR TITS. like i do not care what anybody says jungkook is a titty lover, a boobie connoisseur

likes to just hold them because he is gentle and lovely and ur boobs are his home

wants them in his mouth almost all of the time

favourite part of him is probs his arms

very proud of his muscles and very very attracted to the way u seem addicted to them

loves when u dig ur nails into them when he fucks u

also loves when u get overwhelmed with cuteness aggression and feel the need to bite him and gnaw on his arm like a teething toy

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

clean boy

i dont think hes all too feral about doing it inside but if ur fucking raw then inside is the cleanest option for him

first man on earth to… prefer a condom?

of course fucking u raw is his absolute pleasure but he likes the quick and easy cleanup a condom provides

on the off chance jungkook likes to get messy :) if hes in that mood expect cum on ur face, tits or on ur pussy

not an absolutely rare occurrence just not entirely common

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

did u guys expect me to say anything but panty lover

likes them all but especially cute cotton ones that are well loved <3

ones with a little bow and a subtle lace trim

maybe the pattern is somewhat childish but that makes them all the more endearing to him

if he sees u wearing them TRUST he will be in a messy mood. he cant help himself

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

pains me to admit but jungkook gets bitches😥😥

maybe not drowning in pussy, we’ve all seen the singular neck pillow on his bed

just cannot imagine a world where jungkook looks the way he looks and doesnt fuck?????? that is a world i quite frankly dont want to live in if so.

been in the industry long enough to know how to get around dispatch rumours, also hybe/bh paying off major drama media companies lolol

i think hes had enough sex to know what he likes but jungkook is a romantic at heart and i truly believe if he found The One we would know about it

so i think theres some things unexplored bc theyre things he wants to experience with the love of his life<333

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

missionary

DONT YAWN.

just likes seeing ur face and also likes to display his strength and hold ur hips up so he can fuck u deeper

also likes that he can see when u grip onto his arms and if he really wants to he can duck his head down and bury his face in ur tits

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

yeah jk gets goofy asf

cannot imagine serious sex with him really i think hes immune to being serious ever

even if it gets a little more serious at some point there will always be a joke or a giggle inserted somewhere between

he cannot help himself sorry.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

jungkook my lovely clean boy <33

not completely razor shaven but trims regularly and keeps it neat

not a fan of stray pubes and whatnot. thinks its unhygienic

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

despite his goofy silly boy nature i think jungkook is incredibly intimate

likes to be slow and likes drawn out foreplay

this is jungkook we’re talking about……. lover of romance and soulmates and close bonds

needs to be practically combined with u when u fuck, never feels like he gets deep enough

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

dont think hes a big fan of jerking it honestly

at least not alone

loves a bit of mutual masturbation i reckon so if he does need to wank best believe he’s either calling u or texting u

its always better when hes right there with u tho, with u straddling his lap while he strokes himself and watches u get off on his thigh

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

hehe praise

for u or for him. doesnt matter

will get into this in a sec but jk dabbles in submission so expect whimpers and moans when u tell him what a good boy he is and goad him on when hes following instructions well

loves whispering how pretty u are and reminding u how much he loves u and loves ur body and thinks ur the most gorgeous person in the world

atp its just him. like i dont think he could stop himself i think he gets off on praising u

lazy sub when he does sub for u :)

less about being in the mood to sub and more about not being in the mood to do anything else

wants u to do the work and likes if u get a little mean about it

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

the couch lol

jungkook is one of those people thats just very passionate and when hes horny it needs to happen there and then

so i just cant picture u making it to his bed fast enough for his liking

his couch is big enough anyway

but make no mistake…….. morning sex

therefore beds!!!!!!!! loves fucking u in the morning because it feels so domestic and intimate and lovely and therefore loves fucking u in his bed

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

not much

libra venus lol

but its usually just from his need to be close to u and whats closer than being literally inside of u

just a lovely boy …. :( would probs get so hard just seeing u look pretty on the couch next to him while u watch tv

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

degradation probably

not a fan of being mean to u outside of a little teasing

none of that “slut”, “bitch”, “whore” business

id also say hitting but i think jungkook could get into a bit of that if the circumstances are right

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

i think he prefers receiving but isnt against eating u out

doesnt even like getting head much himself

prefers a handjob the same way he would prefer to finger u

dont think hes bad at it tho. knows the basics and primarily uses it as foreplay so orgasm is not always necessary

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

both?

depends on his mood and the circumstances in which he is fucking u

mostly slow and sensual though, maybe a mix between if he’s close

hehehe…….. probs doesnt even pull out too far when he fucks u, just wants to stay buried in u so he prefers rolling his hips slowly and grinding into u

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

not opposed to them but not his favourite

prefers when foreplay lasts forever to the point that ur both basically about to cum

but quickies are sometimes unavoidable :/

will make up for it later :)

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

i dont think so …… i dont think hes a scaredy cat but hes very cautious of things that may hurt u or that may cause harm

like probably not a very public lover aside from basic pda (he has to show u off????)

would cover ur mouth to keep u quiet when he lived in the dorms

i think hed be too embarrassed if he got caught fucking, hes cute not arrogant

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

i think jungkook can go for a while and i think he can hold out for longer than most

enjoys taking his time with u and that of course would not work if he was desperate to cum five minutes in

i also think … he … .. perh aps…,.., enjoys being overstimulated…,,??

so cumming more than once :) is fun :)

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

ermmm probably not?

likes the real thing and doesnt like the noises

would maybe invest in a hitachi for u but cant think of anything he would use on himself

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

not very unfair, likes to give in to u cos it shows u want him that bad and thats what gets him going

however

if jungkooks feeling submissive then yes please tease him

be mean and make him beg

and even still dont give in :)

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

moaner

like come on ? its jungkook we’re talking about

if he didnt moan id be seriously worried .

not necessarily loud, but u can definitely hear him from outside the door

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

can imagine him getting home after a long day and hes been thinking about u but cannot be bothered to move from the couch

and u look so pretty beside him so (because hes a baby) he reaches out to touch ur thigh and whines a little

maybe even pouts because hes such a massive tease

and who are u to deny him ? when he looks so pretty and u know he just wants u to look after him

and so u climb into his lap and straddle him…… and his hands roam over your hips and ass absentmindedly

and when ur kissing ur hand trails lower and lower until ur palming him over the fabric of his sweats and building him up until hes rock hard

whispering that he has to be a good boy for u or else he wont get rewarded, and obviously he nods because he loves being ur good boy

but his hands wander a bit too much for ur liking and so u bite his lower lip and spank his hip gently before sneaking ur hand past the waistband of his sweats and underwear to grip his length

and of course hes dripping, how wouldnt he be ??

so u indulge him and spread his precum down his cock before stroking him slowly, nudging his clothes down to get a better look

and hes so fucked out that his head tips backwards, his wandering hands gripping your hips firmly

and despite the mess, hes delicate when he cums, spilling over his shirt and moaning softly, thanking u with sweet murmurs and a gentle hand rubbing ur thigh

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

self-identified horse cock

just kidding but i think hes a little bigger than average

probs more on the girth side than anything else

i dont think its anything extreme, i think its enough for u to notice but nothing that will carve out ur insides

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

i think sex is an expression of his love language a little so i think he has a higher sex drive

but not in a horny ggrrrr ooga booga woof woof way but in a please can i just be inside u forever and make a home within ur walls way

will probs want sex more often than ur average guy but its never pressure its more just like a natural progression of cuddling and being around him

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

probably not gonna fall asleep for a while after

if hes subbing then maybe sooner than any other times u have sex

but mostly when its over he will stay up to shower and eat and maybe play some games before he falls asleep

[rikusahoge]

"But be safe. No reckless stunts."

On Sora and Riku's respective recklessness as showcased in the series, and what it means for their relationship

Under readmore because i am going to talk a lot

As an aside: Im going to be pulling from the Japanese text, though I am not a native speaker or really any kind of speaker, so take what I say with a decent amount of scrutiny. I'm more than willing to be corrected on these conclusions!

One line that has stood out to me in kingdom hearts is the repetition of "no reckless stunts!" and similar phrases. If you examine the original text, three slightly different words have been used to mean "reckless", which I'll include below (pulled definitions from Jisho, mostly)

無謀 (mubou): reckless, foolhardy, rash, ill-advised, mad (scheme)

無茶 (mucha): reckless, absurd, unreasonable, ridiculous

無理 (muri): impossible, unreasonable, unjustifiable

Importantly for what i want to talk about is how "muri" is used in situations where a character wants to express that something is impossible (think of a character giving up all hope due to an insermountable obstacle in front of them, they may mutter something like "muri da...") keep a pin in this, it will matter toward the end.

Also note that each of these words starts with "無" (mu), which usually means nothingness or absence of something. The definition of this kanji isnt super important, it's more important that its presence ties these three phrases together in a really unique way as i hope to demonstrate.

what i propose is that both Sora and Riku are depicted as reckless characters, albeit in different ways. The established pattern I've noticed is that Sora: "mucha" & Riku: "muri". I will tentatively refer to "mucha" as "rash" and "muri" as "impossible" (despite that it does also mean other things in some cases! bare with me it'll make sense)

Dialing back a bit, we have seen countless moments of Sora acting rashly. It is one of his key character traits and it tends to get him in trouble. He has a big heart, and is quick to anger.

Sora's response to loved ones and helpless innocents that have been put in harm's way is to repetitively bash things with his keyblade (and ask questions later).

It's Sora's rashness that allows Org 13 to use him to complete kingdom hearts. The extreme end of his rashness is showcased when he stabs himself to release Kairi from his heart.

Tldr. I think it's pretty well established and easy to argue that Sora is one to leap before he looks.

Now, Riku might be a little harder to sell as reckless, because of how well he tends to hide it. He carries himself as a role model for Sora, and tries to be the responsible friend. But if we look at his patterns of behavior, despite how he carries himself, he is quite reckless!

Without thinking of the consequences, he rushes the open door when destiny islands falls to darkness, eventually succumbing to it himself. He lashes out several times at Sora, particularly dangerously when he fires off a dark firaga in Hollow Bastion. He closes the door to darkness with Sora without knowing what would happen to him if he was trapped in the realm of darkness. When Sora is asleep, he sacrifices his form to defeat Roxas, without any assurance that he would ever be able to get his old form back.

We see Riku's recklessness too in the fight against Xemnas. He recklessly throws himself in front of Xemnas twice, hurling Sora away from danger and taking a very nasty blow to the hip. I'd count his dive to save Sora in DDD among these, mostly due to his risk taking behavior when it comes to saving Sora. Finally of course we see it in KH3, with his ultimate sacrifice. (but i think importantly, this scene isn't just recklessness, but I'll explain in a bit)

So tldr. Despite Riku's mask of level headedness and resolve, he has been shown over and over to take massive risks without caring for the consequences. Which is pretty reckless, in my opinion!

Sora and Riku's recklessness, mind you, is also called into question by Yen Sid, who tells Riku the reason he kept Aqua's fate a secret was to keep Riku and Sora from staging a "half-baked attempt at rescue"

He says similar in Japanese, but i want to just note the word he uses when he describes the rescue attempt as reckless (highlighted for ur convenience):

(the highlighted word here is "mubou", it will come back later in an Important way, so keep it in mind)

he's *basically* saying that if Riku, or worse, Sora, knew about Aqua, they would have recklessly marched into the realm of darkness to rescue her. Because he knows they are both ... Like that.

I would be remiss to not mention that Sora's impulsivity and recklessness is something Riku admires! After Yen Sid tells riku not to be rash, and Riku excitedly tells Mickey he's ready to help save Aqua, Kairi observes that Riku has changed, and he's more like Sora. Riku asks if that's a compliment, but I think it's clear that he feels it is. He says it's more Fun to just follow his heart, which is sora-esque. (;_;) This is also something he brings up to Sora when they're on the dark margin together, that he's jealous of how Sora can just follow his heart. It's clear Riku has started to embrace his more impulsive side, to follow his heart like sora does. This is important later!

So now that I have my premise Mostly set up, I'd like to highlight a handful of scenes that I thought were really telling about how Sora and Riku relate to the terms "mucha" and "muri", respectively.

Let's start with Sora and "mucha".

The first instance i have found "mucha" used is in Olympus Colliseum.

lets recall How Herc initially loses his power in KH2, and compare it to the movie.

In KH2, Herc is tricked into leaving the colliseum unguarded by capturing Meg and hiding her in the underworld so that Herc and Sora must go to her rescue. Hades sends a hydra in to destroy the colliseum while Sora and Herc are busy fighting heartless and Pete and rescuing Meg.

Upon seeing the destruction in the colliseum, Herc falls to his knees, and you can visibly see his colors fade to a more ashen complexion, similar to his appearance without his powers in the movie. He calls himself a piece of shit basically and Meg helps him up to limp to safety, leaving Sora to defeat the Hydra (ahem sora helping riku walk in twtnw after xemnas fight anyone)

(Herc even has a second journal entry for his Desaturared form.)

You leave the world after defeating the hydra and jumping up on its back a few times, and after sora d & g are named true heros. Yay. But Herc doesn't have his power back yet, which will later be addressed in the second episode.

Herc's loss of power is much different from the movie. In the movie, he agrees to let Hades take his strength for a day in order to keep Meg from harm, and release her from the contract she had entered with Hades (iirc). This was all so Herc wouldn't get the chance to save Olympus from the titans that Hades revives in order to take Zeus' throne for himself.

Herc still tries to wonderboy his way into rescuing the town, and fights a giant cyclops. While he lacks physical strength and gets pretty much Pummeled, he ends up beating the cyclops with his wit - but in doing so, a pillar is knocked over. It is about to crush Herc, but Meg pushes him out of the way, and is crushed to death.

She gives her life to save him, which in turn returns strength to Herc, because the contract was only good if Meg remained unharmed.

What I'm mostly trying to say here on this tangent is Herc's loss of power in KH2 specifically is very reminiscent of Sora losing his keyblade in Hollow Bastion, which is later echoed in the keyblade graveyard when he feels he loses his strength to fight after losing his friends. I bring up the movie to show how bizarrely different it is from the Kh2 plot, perhaps precisely to make the parallel between Sora and Herc stronger (and the parallel between Herc and Riku, by the way - Herc falling to his knees, losing his power, and giving up, only for Meg to walk him to safety, is a parallel to Riku losing his will to fight and press on after the battle with Xemnas - Sora refuses to let him and in the same Exact way he helps Riku walk on)

So Hercules, when faced with the impossible wavers, and loses his strength and will to fight. This is important so keep it in mind. Impossible/Muri isn't stated here as far as i know, but it's important that he is feeling utterly defeated and unable to win.

The second visit to the world is when we first see the term "mucha"/reckless used as far as I was able to find. Hades casts Meg into the Soul Hole and Herc dives in to save her without hesitating (mechanically to write Herc out of the boss fight, but)

We later see Herc emerge with Meg, his godly aura restored (he is Radiant!) something that *should* have killed him. and should have been impossible. But his desire to save her was so great, he recklessly dives in, without knowing that he will succeed. Luckily, all he had to do to prove he was worthy of godhood and power in both the game and the movie was to use the strength of his Heart rather than his fists, as a true hero does:

Sora scolds him and tells him not to do anymore crazy stunts after this reckless dive to save Meg (screenshot makes it look like herc is saying it sorry lol) and that is where we can see the term "mucha" being used in Japanese:

instead of crazy stunts, Sora moreso says "but don't be reckless (mucha)":

to which herc responds:

"people always do stupid things when they're in love" (note he doesn't repeat reckless, he says "baka" lol)

so here we have a direct link between herc's sacrifice when he dove in to save Meg, the restoration of his power/Godhood, and acting recklessly (mucha), without Fear or Doubt, to save someone he is In Love With. put a pin in this because it's all connected.

Now moving onto KH2.9 and KH3. From the start of the game we are told Sora has lost the Power of Waking, and his Entire goal in the game is to regain it, wake Ventus, and prepare for the battle in the KBG with Xehanort.

The Power of Waking is already a very vague, disney-esque power, essentially the power to free sleeping hearts from slumber (and first introduced to us in DDD, particularly in terms of Riku waking Sora up in a sleeping beauty retelling but I'm getting ahead of myself)

Yen Sid suggests that Sora go to Olympus for clues to regain his power, as Just Like Sora, Hercules also lost his power, but was able to regain it.

It's pretty straightforward, but in the interest of not making this post a fucking novel ill try to keep it short. Herc tells Sora he's not sure just *how* he got his powers back, just that he wanted to save Meg with all his heart when he (recklessly) dove in to save her. The game is trying to tell Sora that it's the Power of Love that brought back Herc's strength, and that Love will be key in bringing Sora's PoW back, too.

Specifically, I think that Herc's story and the other worlds Sora visits are saying that it's True Love that will bring Sora's powers back. Acts of true love in KH3 are framed as courageous, selfless, and performed unconditionally.

Despite the visit to see Hercules, Sora still doesn't gain the PoW. He has an idea of what he needs to regain it, but he has to visit multiple Disney worlds to learn more about the power of true love and sacrifice (well also separation but thats not as important to this post) before he's ready to test it out for himself.

After Arendelle (i think) we get to another important cutscene where Riku, Sora, donald, goofy, & mickey meet up with Yen Sid to discuss the progress they've made on their respective journeys. Sora wants to go to the Realm of Darkness with Riku & Mickey because he's worried, but they Won't let him because he doesn't have the PoW. Riku does the fondest laugh known to man, eliciting a bit of anger from Sora, but explains it's because of what Yen Sid had told him earlier - that had Sora or Riku known about Aqua being trapped in the RoD, they would have recklessly gone in to save her.

he's pretty much directly quoting yen sid here, just like he does in English (saying half-baked instead of reckless too). So basically saying here Sora would have marched into (the dark world) recklessly (had he known where Aqua was) - again using "mubou" like master yen sid.

Interestingly, when we get to Sora telling Riku to not be reckless in the dark world to Riku, he's not repeating the same word for Reckless that Riku is using (Now this might be just a flow of the conversation thing, which i certainly cant confirm as a non-native speaker but i think it's still notable)

Sora says something similar to what is said in English; with a few distinctions. A rough translation would be "but don't overdo it, call me if anything happens" (need I gripe one more time that english localization cuts out sora telling Riku to call him; which is why he spends the rest of the time apart from Riku wanting a call, and why its so unhinged that Riku triangles for sora and basically summons him. I DIGRESS)

This line is translated as "but be safe, no reckless stunts" in English, which serves as a callback to what Sora tells to Hercules in KH2, (further solidifying a herc/riku parallel) but IMPORTANTLY, Sora is NOT even saying the same thing he said to Hercules in the Japanese script. He's saying something else - 無理しないで (muri shinai de), which is usually translated as don't overdo it - but literally means "don't do the impossible". This will be important later when I talk more about Riku so keep this in mind.

We immediately get Donald saying "Sora's the reckless (muri) one" (abbreviating for simplicity) but Jiminy disagrees. In English he says "He's not reckless, he just doesn't think!" but in Japanese he says this:

Which i know im going to butcher any translation I do, but Jiminy is basically saying "[Sora's] not muri he's mucha". That distinction is important enough for Jiminy to make a joke about it. That Riku might actually be the one who is overdoing it/trying to do the impossible (muri), while Sora is the one who runs headfirst into danger recklessly (mucha). Which, i think, is quite fitting, given the actions theyve done through the series.

Importantly we get one more instance of "mucha" which I think really ties Sora's trait "recklessness" together nicely, and puts into perspective what the repetition of these phrases is doing from a story telling perspective.

After Sora finishes up the remaining Disney world visits, S, D, & G find out that Chip & Dale have lost contact with Riku & Mickey. Sora is very upset at this, and is Determined to save them (Riku) (with all his heart). Sora has NOT GAINED THE POW at this point, and they don't know how to even get into the RoD, so Sora opts to "let his heart be his guiding key" to find his way to Riku and the RoD. (Recklessly I might add, he hasn't called or talked to Yen Sid or consulted anyone about it lol)

He arrives at Destiny Islands and mysteriously finds Master's Defender which happens to be the key to getting him into the RoD. Right? Well. We know from the glossary that the established method of reaching the RoD is with a keyblade of darkness, through dark corridors, or with the Power of Waking.

Others have argued this (see SRT) but it's heavily implied that Sora regained the PoW on his way to rescue Riku. That he used it explicitly to get into the RoD is where people tend to be a little caught up in the details, because it *does* seem like Master's Defender plays a role, which begs the questions - is it a keyblade of darkness? What the fuck was it doing there? etc. (literally saw on a kh wiki that sora got into the RoD because Masters defender was a keyblade of darkness, which is unconfirmed currently lol) It's also not traditionally what the PoW looks like. There's a huge door that appears, Sora isn't using the kingdom key, he doesn't burst out of Riku's chest. Etc.

HOWEVER. I think with the context of the narrative arc Sora is going through, the foreshadowing present in the game, and The Reckless Rescue angle can at least prove that he DID regain his power here, regardless of whether or not he explicitly used it to get into the RoD. I'll try to briefly summarize the points I've seen made before I add my own.

After the visit to Olympus, Sora explains to Yen sid that he didn't regain his power but he still learned a lot. Yen sid stresses again that sora needs the PoW, Sora gets pouty, and Goofy cheers him up by saying "maybe something will trigger it real soon". Shortly after a bit of banter, there is a knock at the door, and Riku and Mickey walk in. The camera kmakes a point to show Mickey off to the side, then pan up to Riku as he walks in to close the door, who is centered in the view (almost as if we are watching from Sora's POV, who is anticipating Riku's appearance in the door).

Putting this side by side is a little unfair, since it's not an immediate jump from Goofy saying this to Riku's entrance, but it's pretty in your face about just what (or who) might be key to reawakening sora's PoW.

We also get some heavy handed foreshadowing in the next visit to Yen Sid's tower, right before Sora tells Riku to not overdo it:

Yeah. and he does, importantly, get the power of waking, not BEFORE he comes to the rescue, but BECAUSE he comes to the rescue.

Now for my contribution since I stole the last two/three points from other posts. Just before Sora enters the RoD, he tells D & G to stay behind and that he has to go alone. (Sigh, yes, this scene is a parallel to Riku using the PoW to save Sora in DDD - it *has* to be him, and him alone) D& G protest, but eventually relent. But Donald doesn't let Sora go without saying this:

(In English, Donald says "you promise to be good?" inexplicably) but in Japanese he tells sora (basically) "Don't be reckless" - aka. No Reckless Stunts, complete with the use of "mucha" (recall Donald in the previous scene was the one to call Sora "muri" before being corrected by Jiminy). This is similar to what Sora tells to herc, so we are pretty much full circle on this scene being a callback to Herc rescuing Meg in KH2.

Like Herc, Sora does the reckless thing. Like Herc, he heroically dives into the abyss to rescue his loved one with all his heart.

Like Herc, Sora regains his power the moment he resolves to rescue Riku, even if it is not made explicitly clear to Sora OR the audience (perhaps the fact that he regained the PoW is why he is able to save aqua, too)

I could probably go on about this and what it means for Sora for a long time, but I think it's high time I actually wrote about "muri" and Riku's recklessness, so let's rewind a little.

I've already brought up how Riku relates to Herc in terms of his recklessness and heroics, but theres a few more things to add. of course. I'll recap with pictures of one of the parallels i've already discussed:

So here i think at least metaphorically, we can argue that Riku has lost a bit of his "power"- or rather, his drive. After everything is over, he just collapses, ready to die or be left behind. Sora WONT let that happen. So Riku asks Sora to lead. He confesses to some of the jealousy and superiority he'd been feeling over Sora for the past few years, and seems to be trying to find a new direction in his life, having now repented Quite a bit for the sins he committed in KH1.

Riku's entire purpose for fighting after KH CoM and KH2 was to wake Sora up, keep him safe while he does his keyblade weilder duties, reunite him with Kairi, and send him on his merry way. Sora refuses to let him leave, and demands that he comes home with him. So he does. but without his jealousy over his feelings toward Sora, or without his feelings of guilt and feeling he needs to make it up to Sora, what is left to drive him to keep fighting?

DDD gives him a pretty strong answer - it's where he both rediscovers his sense of purpose and gains the Power of Waking in the process. And his dream eater powers too. btw

Riku's journey in DDD is, simply put, not really about passing the mark of mastery exam and becoming a keyblade master. it's about remembering What he lives for. remembering his promise to Terra, and how those feelings have evolved - from wanting strength to protect the Stuff that matters as a child, to, in DDD, discovering that the "stuff that matters, like his friends" was Sora the Whole time, and that Sora is actually a "precious best friend" that he wants to protect. It's About recovering his strength, like Herc needs to do in KH2.

So how does Riku regain his "strength"? By Sora-style taking a reckless dive into the deep abyss of Sora's heart to wake him using the PoW.

(Not once was I able to find any mention of "recklessness" here, or any particular language that ties this moment together cleanly with what happens in Olympus Colliseum in KH2, but the repetition of diving down into an abyss to rescue someone (with all your heart. etc) is Enough of a parallel to make the connection between this scene and Herc's dive to save Meg)

It is within the deepest depth of Sora's heart where Riku is interrogated by three pieces of Sora's heart about what he's afraid of, what he cares about more than anything else, and what he wishes - All canon answers involve the mention of "precious" - "taisetsu" (sorry im not explaining this one im going to just assume you know what im talking about if you are a soriku that reads meta you should know.) - to lose something precious, my precious best friend (fuck da english localization for this one), to recover something precious that I lost. It is here that we see Riku's simple "protecting important stuff" become "protecting something precious/my precious best friend" (note that this hasn't quite become "taisetsu na hito"/precious person but hes getting there)

Ansem the wise is there i guess and he tells Riku that his 3 answers are what were the key to waking sora up, and I think, importantly, are what give Riku his "strength" back. He has rediscovered his purpose, which is, to him, protecting Sora (with all his heart)

Continuing into KH2.9 we have another couple scenes that will both complete Riku's development from protecting stuff that matters to protecting a precious person and also continue to make a strong connection between him and Hercules.

It's been pretty well established that these two scenes are deceptively mistranslated, but i'll go over it again

Herc here is saying "taisetsu na hito" which is translated to "person I love most"

The EXACT phrase Mickey uses to tell Riku why he's feeling more powerful and fearless in the RoD, in the literal next scene in 2.9. They were supposed to be VERY CLEAR hit you over the head parallels but, well. SENA said fuck gay people i guess.

Riku repeats what Mickey says into his hand ("strength to protect my precious person") and recalls his promise to Terra, to protect the things that matter. (again it's implied it's always been about protecting sora, he just didn't have the language or understanding of himself yet to know how to say it)

There is absolutely no room for nuance here. This is explicitly framing Riku's feelings for Sora on par with Herc's feelings for Meg eg. explicitly romantic. And that it's his ROMANTIC LOVE for Sora that is what gives him his strength - not just to protect Sora, but also to do THE IMPOSSIBLE

phase ??? of my argument will now commence hang on to your butts. (i wrote this all in one night im tired)

Now that ive Exhaustively set that up. lets actually get back into discussing what I initially set up - riku doing the impossible "muri" thing.

As a reminder, Sora tells Riku to not "attempt the impossible/overdo it" in the RoD. And to call him if he needs him.

So Riku, instead of attempting the impossible in the RoD by facing the demon tide, does call Sora, which ends up being what saves the day! Yay!

I have bad news though! Riku is terrible at listening to advice when Sora is in trouble.

Now recall what I mentioned earlier about the fall of the guardians in the KBG and Sora's subsequent breakdown being a parallel to Herc losing his power in KH2. Sora *fails* everyone here, and he explicitly states he is worthless, without strength, when he loses them. It's very in line with Herc losing his powers in KH2.

(just putting these in here to hurt you and myself)

So, we get the Herc parallel, but it stops here for Sora. He doesn't do some grand self sacrifice for Riku to prove his heroism and regain his "power", but i think theres a reason for that beyond it just being Riku's time for the spotlight but I am getting there.

In the english localization, Sora says "we've lost, it's over". It's a subtle change from the Japanese, where instead of "it's over", Sora simply utters "muri da--" ("its impossible") (in the wettest saddest voice you can imagine)

It's at this moment where I do truly think we're meant to make the connection between Sora saying "its impossible" and Sora telling Riku to not attempt the impossible. It fits in nicely with Sora telling Herc to not do reckless stunts, with the slight change in language from "reckless" to "impossible", and with the impending self sacrifice. Riku knows that beating back the demon tide is impossible. But he does it anyway (compare to how, when faced with a much smaller demon tide, and he was losing, he listened to Sora's advice and called Sora for help instead of attempting the impossible)

So we have Riku's ultimate true love sacrifice for Sora, which both takes his life and grants him a spot upon an alter in Olympus, perhaps symbolically giving him some sort of ascension for his heroic deed. And again tying his sacrifice intimately to Herc's.

Because Sora and Riku are both "herc" and "meg" here I am going to make a little bit of a reach. Recall that I went through the effort of recapping the climax of the hercules movie. for no reason. There is a connection though even if it's loose, and i would kick myself for not including it.

In the movie, Meg, like Riku, protects a powerless Hercules from impending danger in her own act of true loves sacrifice. Her death gives Hercules his strength back (partly due to contract BS but it's still a romantic moment). And her death is what drives Hercules to dive into the Soul Hole to rescue her soul at a potentially great cost, which is what ultimately restores his godhood (showing his strength of heart). Riku sacrificing himself for Sora can be seen to be more like the events of the Hercules movie, Riku standing in for Meg - Sora does have to restore Riku's heart after it's been taken by the Lich, after all, much like Hercules brings Meg's soul out from the Hole. And Riku's sacrifice is what gives Sora the resolve to keep fighting. (not arguing with anyone who thinks it was only kairi because it wasnt lol)

So Riku attempts the impossible here, and ultimately he is rewarded. An interesting nuance is that the phrase "attempting the impossible" isn't meant to be taken as a challenge. From what ive read from native speakers, the phrase Sora uses really is better translated as "don't overdo it" as it is less about proving yourself to be able to overcome crazy obstacles and more about keeping your expectations in check. But Riku is reckless, and following his heart, which he learned from Sora.

I hope I've properly illustrated how Sora and Riku are both painted as reckless in different ways, and how the language used in KH3 is making direct references to Herc's reckless heroics in KH2 and in the actual Disney movie. And how these reckless acts are showcasing how much these two love each other, because I still have one more point to make. Namely, how this ties into Cinderella, and ultimately KH4.

In Terra's route of Birth By Sleep, he happens upon a distraught Cinderella, who has had her dress torn up by her step sisters. She was planning to go to the ball, but cannot, because it is "impossible" (muri)

Terra tries to console her. It's all very reminiscent of the scenes of Herc's, Sora's, and Riku's defeats.

After Terra fights off the unversed summoned by Cinderella's negativity (toxic much..), Out of the blue, the fairy godmother appears and makes everything better. She fixes up Cinderella with a dress and a ride to the ball, and sends her on her merry way.

She explains to Terra that she appeared to Cinderella to show her that her dreams *can* come true and that she typically appears only to people that have a strong belief in their dreams. Terra says he believes in dreams but you have to work for them, to which FGM responds that simply believing in dreams is already a difficult thing on its own. (Ventus also compares Terra to Cinderella. btw. because of his strong dreams)

Now. Sigh. Im not the only person that has pointed this out. The FGM quite literally appears to Riku, but only after a year has passed and they have no leads on Sora, and after it's implied that Riku is starting to lose hope.

In the limit cut, you can see Riku's sad wet puppy dog face as he talks about how hard everyone is working, and how they haven't found anything at all. He says "if Sora is really out there, don't you think we would have found something by now?" - Again, he's losing faith in his dreams of Sora's return. This is important.

I do not have the strength to go through and find all the times Riku told everyone to believe in Sora in KH3. It's a lot. And the last thing we hear him say Near Sora, is to let him go on his suicide mission to save Kairi - to BELIEVE in Sora (#wish).

So one, we know the dream Riku believes in is Sora, and two, we know he is starting to lose his belief in his dreams, like Cinderella before the ball, when he dress is destroyed.

Right after it's clear their is no lead through the data from Org 13, FGM appears, just like she did for Cinderella. And she tells Riku that His Dreams Are Literally A Key To Find Sora (that hes quite literally been #dream drop distancing into sora's dreams while hes in unreality is already so much without the FGM being there to explain this to him but KH is crazy!)

One last thing to really drive this home. The FGM brings Riku and Kairi to the nameless star to bring the three keys together.

And what does she tell Riku, before he leaves?

"Be careful. Do not attempt to do the impossible."

---------

if you read this whole thing... well... im proud of you. I know i definitely missed stuff, because it would be so hard to go through all the games and really dig for the use of this term especially when I dont speak japanese at all. and because i wrote this all in one night. But dont hesitate to comment or reblog if you have anything to add. I freaking love kingdom hearts

[redpill-tfs]

I am ready to take the Red Pill and become a proud MAGA American citizen! Please, can you help?

Of course I can help you out bro! I'm pretty sure it's in my job description somewhere. I have the perfect new life for you. Just step into my office real quick. Here's your red pill, man. I have some water here if you need it too.

As the pill starts breaking down in your system, you can feel the changes take place. Your arm muscles expand outward, completely ripping the sleeves of your shirt. Your legs follow a similar pattern, completely ruining your pants. You've definitely spent a good amount of time at the gym. Your hair lightens to a nice blonde, while it gets a little longer for a typical douchebag look. While we're at it, let's give you some more testosterone and make your cock a little longer. 8 inches sound good?

Don't worry about your clothes, bro. I have some new ones for you. Let's get your basketball shorts on first. As impressive as your new package is, I don't really wanna see it bro. I got a red tank top for you as well. Let's just slide that over your head here... and perfect. It's fitting for a Red man like yourself. You've got the perfect alpha bro look right now. Don't want you to look like a weak libtard now do we? I thought so.

Let's get you to your new home now. You find yourself on a beautiful college campus, a fountain in the middle of a group of buildings. The football field isn't that far away either. You spend a lot of time there, bro. Between football and the gym, you barely have time for anything else. I don't know how you do it man. Balancing your junior year of your business major, hosting wicked parties at your fraternity with your bros, and going to the gym. Can't forget about football practice of course. Can't have the star quarterback missing out on that! Have you heard the rumors around campus saying that you might go pro? Even if that fails, you can always get an easy job at Daddy's business. A comfy office job where you get to boss people around sounds like a good deal to me.

Let the memories fill your brain bro. You were never a weak liberal. You're Mike Smith Jr., a proud conservative alpha bro. You were raised in the very image of your father, who owns one of the most successful consulting firms in this great nation. He made sure to raise you RIGHT, getting you into manly things like sports from a young age. He taught you to get what you want, and your commanding presence and alpha personality ensures you do so. Christ has a strong influence in your life, of course. You never fail to attend church every Sunday, taking the pastor's words to heart. Well, at least most of it.

Why would you ever want to be a weak ass liberal, spending all your time protesting Trump's policies and crying over deported criminals when you could be living life the RIGHT way? The Red Way. You know America is the greatest country on Earth and your life ahead is full of anything and everything you want.

Speaking of what you want, I think that chick over there is looking at you. She's pretty hot, right? I can see your boner in your shorts. Look at those breasts, bro. Just imagine how tight her pussy must be. If you're lucky, you might just get her pregnant and spread the Red even further to the next generation. Ain't no way you're letting her get an abortion! That goes against your values. Why don't you flex your muscles at her, show her what she could have? Oh, she's smiling at you... Now go get her, bro!

[pro-depresanti]

In case you take request? Val x female reader on e shot who acts a bit childlike clingy when he gets off out of bed the next Morning Not wanted him to leave for work?

The way I was actually thinking of writing something like that already lol

Tags: really soft, clingy!reader, vaguely implied nsfw

Requests are open :))

___

Contrary to popular belief, Hell isn't a burning pit of fire, with the average temperature breaking the thermometers, especially with an AC on, and especially in the mornings.

You're tugged in bed with a thick comforter covering you up to the chin, Valentino's fluffy wings splayed out underneath you. You're using his chest as a pillow, your arms wrapped around him like he's the biggest plushie ever made. Honestly, you're lucky he's a clingy bitch as well, and that he likes you so much, otherwise such freedoms would never fly. He's got his arms around you too, one by the shoulders and one around your waist.

He wakes up first, because being an Overlord isn't just bossing everyone around and throwing money as carelessly as cigarette butts, said money has to be made somehow. Valentino sighs under his breath, mentally going through the list of things that needs to get done - supervising two big projects, going through some scripts, a meeting with Vox in the afternoon for scheduling and setting the budget for the upcoming quarter, a quick visit to Velvette for a photoshoot–

It's too early for this shit, but time doesn't bend even for Overlords. He takes notice of your position, and gets to unraveling himself away from you as carefully as possible. Your job is to look pretty, and to warm his bed and cock, not to run a whole industry, might as well one of you take it easy.

But, as soon as your 'pillow' moves, you're awake and very much not in the mood to lose your personal heater. You grumble something unintelligible, wrapping yourself tighter around Val, throwing a leg around his stomach for good measure.

"Baby, come on–"

"Mmm, five more minutes." Both of you are well aware your 'five minutes' are as long as Vox's five minutes to finish up paperwork, which is closer to five hours.

Valentino weighs his opinions, wondering whether having you share his bed is worth having that conversation more often than not. It is, but still.

You lift up your head, putting up your best cute face, staring him through your lashes with puppy eyes. "Pretty please?"

He throws you a nasty look. "And what happens when those idiots run the industry into the ground?" As if he doesn't want to have a lazy morning more than once in a blue moon.

"They will be fine," you pout, laying back. "Just a bit more, you're warm."

Valentino rolls his eyes. "Little manipulator," he says, then leans in to kiss the top of your head.

You giggle. "Learning from the best."

He reaches over the nightstand, despite your protests, to get a cigarette and a lighter. Fine, he can have his 'breakfast' in bed, Valentino without his morning smoke is a nightmare for everyone that comes in his vicinity. "You have until I finish this."

You sigh. "Fine." One battle at a time. Still, you call that a win when he starts tracing a shapeless pattern onto your back. Yeah, you can play the big scary Overlord like a fiddle, he can never tell you a stern 'no' without a compromise, you've gotten as much under his skin as he has under yours.

"You know, you're a pain in the ass sometimes," he says with a scoff.

You hum in agreement. "Yep." Then tangle your fingers into his neck fluff. Mmm, warm and fuzzy. Sometimes you can even forget what a nasty piece of shit Val is. He's just a fluff ball with attitude and anger issues.

You're sure Val must have really rushed his smoking because before you know it he flicks the butt into the ashtray and you get ready for round two. Valentino tries to get up again, less careful this time, but you don't budge, just wrapping yourself tighter around him. "Five more minutes."

He glares at you, saying your name with a tone that would make any other sinner freeze in place.

You scoff.

"I'll be late."

You hum, "'don't care."

"You're really pushing your luck."

No shit, but Val loves it as much as you do.

"Just five more minutes," you reason again, nuzzling into him.

"Move."

You pout. "Five minutes, ple-eeease?"

"I'm serious."

"And I'm cosy." Maybe you'll get a good disciplinary fucking out of this too. Kill two birds with one stone.

But luck isn't on your side today. Valentino gets up suddenly, most likely thinking he would be able to shake you off. Jokes on him, you wrap your hands around his neck and your legs around his waist and hold on for dear afterlife.

He stands up straight, his arms out, which, rude! What if you fall?! Asshole. You wiggle a bit, resting your thighs on his lower set of shoulders for some extra support, interlocking your fingers behind his head. "You can't be serious."

"Come on, Val. No one will care if you're a bit late." If anything, his workers would be happy, but you don't say that out loud.

He clicks his tongue and grabs your chin, lifting your head up to look at him. "You. Are. An. Insufferable, little, bitch."

You smile. "Love you too," then rest your head back on his chest, closing your eyes.

You expect him to wrestle you away and throw you either on the bed or straight on the floor, but no. Instead, he starts walking, still not holding you. Blessed be your strength you have built up after so long being Val's favorite plaything, you stay firm in place. "What are you–"

He gets to his closet and picks the nearest skirt within reach. "Getting ready."

You groan in annoyance. He can't be serious. But he is, bending down to slip on the skirt, then his heels. Ugh, your limbs will ache for the wrong reasons tomorrow, this is a whole workout on your part.

He walks up to the mirror and fixes up his neck fluff as best as he can. No time for make-up today, it seems, not like he needs it to look good.

You hear the front door open, and you finally open your eyes. "Um, Val?"

He doesn't even look at you as he locks the door behind himself. "What? You want to be clingy, be clingy then, but I have shit to do."

"But–"

He grabs you by the hair and pulls your head back. "One more word and you lose your bed privileges."

That shuts you up. Well, hopefully you've worn something decent to bed now that the entire building will see you out and about. Considering Val is just trying to be extra mean and take the stairs instead of the elevator to see whether your strength is as big as your stubbornness, everyone in his section of the Tower will get a glimpse.

[tyrantisterror]

A Flight of Dragons, I Command It! A FLIGHT! OF! DRAGONS!

doom DOOM DOOM

Hey fuckers, it's February and my Seasonal Affective Disorder is at its fucking PEAK, so it's gonna get REAL weird around here for a while. Luckily, my old ass has spent the last thirty-some years figuring out how to deal with this particular recurring problem, and one of the many tools and tricks I've learned is an age old classic:

I gotta treat myself.

So, ok, I work at a daycare, and one of the things that's very popular with the kids these days are 3-D printed dragons. They're inexpensive, customizable, and pretty easy to transport and store, so it's no wonder kids like them. But, you know, I'm something of a child at heart myself, and I love dragons, so when I saw my kids bringing all these 3-D printed dragons to the center... well, I got a bit envious. And, well... when you're an adult with disposable income... there's no one STOPPING you from buying a 3-D printed dragon for yourself.

Or two.

Or three.

Or... lots. Lots and lots. Because you're an adult and they don't cost much money and you've always loved having swarms/herds/big families of creatures ever since you were a kid, and because it was January when this idea struck you and looking at the estimated time of arrival on etsy for these things you realized most of them would arrive by February, when you might NEED the serotonin provided by having a big ol' flight of dragons.

So let's go on a journey, fuckers. A journey of excess, a journey into imagination, a journey through the marvelous world of people with 3-D printers making a quick buck on etsy. Let's look at some fucking dragons.

I'm going to go ahead and link the store pages for each dragon I purchased, in case you too are deranged and need some dragons in your life, and because I want to give some form of credit to the artists who made these. Granted, that won't always be possible - while a few of these seemed to be unique to the shops I bought them from, many of them could be found from NUMEROUS sellers, which makes it difficult if not impossible to figure out who originally programmed the project files for them to be 3-D printed from.

Case in point is The Crystal Dragon here, which can be found in SO MANY etsy stores. Most of the 3-D printed dragons my students at the daycare had were of this variety, in fact, so it seems to be a very popular pattern for 3-D printing. It's definitely a cute and pretty little thing, and sort of sets the standard bar for a 3-D printed dragon. I wish the face was a bit more detailed, but the rough, angular nature of it does help convey the idea that this thing is made of crystals.

The second most common design, as far as I can tell anyway, is this Chinese Dragon/Loong (oh hey, they used my favorite English spelling!). I really like the face of this guy, and it seems like an excellent rendition of the standard East Asian dragon design - there's even tiny holes under its nostrils where you could insert a wire or thread to serve as its barbells, though most sellers (including the one I bought from) don't make use of it.

While most of the dragons I bought are "realistic," there were some cartoony/more stylized ones for sale that I decided to partake in. This little guy is one such dragon, and I think he's probably the best one to get if you're buying for a kid - the smoother body and smaller, nubbier horns makes it less likely to break, and just a bit more fun to play with in your hands. These things are often marketed as fidgets, after all, so the tactile feel of them is something to take into account.

While on the surface just a variation of the fidgets we've seen so far, this dragon has one particularly clever feat of engineering: because of the way the spikes on its neck are set up, you can get its head in a nice "snake rearing up to strike" position, which, combined with its distinctive short-snouted face, goes a long way to giving it an extra bit of character among the 3-D printed dragons.

While most of the dragons I found seemed to have the same simple color options to choose from, a few sellers seemed to have their own custom ones that were unique to their shop. This mix of bronze and olive greens was unique to this particular dragon, which, along with its painted eyes, really helps its stand out! I will note that the joints of this dragon tend to stick a bit more than my other dragons - perhaps a result of using different plastic colors than is standard? - but if you let gravity do its work they'll sort themselves out, and it's worth it to have such a striking little fellow.

Since this particular style of toy really suits serpentine creatures better than all else, I decided to look for some explicitly marine dragons to add to the group. I really like this sea serpent I found, which comes is very basic crayola-ish plain colors, but has just enough personality in its sculpt (and eyes and teeth in different colors) to stand out.

If you're looking for sea dragons on etsy, though, you're much more likely to encounter this fellow, which almost every store selling it calls Jormungandr and/or the Midgard Serpent. It's got these vaguely Nordic runes carved into it, as well as grooves in its tail designed to fit its prominent fangs so it can make an ouroboros, which makes the Jormungandr connection feel pretty intentional. It's a really distinct design, but I do think it's a little funny that it's far from the beefiest of my dragons. I wonder if there's a shop that sells an upsized model...

While not notable in terms of engineering, paint work, or plastic color options, this dragon IS notable in having heads based on a statue of Quetzalcoatl, who is in turn one of my favorite mythological figures, so I had to get it.

Of course, I also wanted a Quetzalcoatl-style feathered serpent that had the classic "winged snake" look, and this one fit the bill well enough. It originally came with little hair clips attached to its underside, allowing it to cling to your head and/or clothes, which I thought was really clever... but I also didn't like the clips sticking out from under the little thing so I took them off. A lovely little dragon either way, though.

So, ok, I'd been going relatively cheap at this point, but as I shopped I was struck with a sort of passing fancy, an idle thought... what was the most elaborate, fanciest 3-D printed dragon I could get? It's not this one, mind you, but this was very much the start of that rabbit hole. While mechanically it's not significantly different than the dragons we've seen till now, the amount of colors it's printed in immediately make it stand out as a higher quality dragon.

The same store that sold the dragon above also sold this fellow, which may well be my favorite of the many East Asian dragons I found on this little quest. Just look at that wonderfully monstrous face! And he's got a pearl, the little devil!

While the color of the plastic and the engineering of this sea dragon may not seem particularly notable, what has to be taken into account here is the sheer SIZE of this lass. This is one of the biggest dragons of my lot, not only in length but in sheer girth and weight of its joints. The Midgar Serpent needs to move over, this is the REAL leviathan of my 3-D printed dragon collection.

Of course, if you know me, you know I'm a basic bitch who loves the European "four legs and two wings" style of dragon the most of all, so my search for fancy 3-D printed dragons started to focus on finding some that fit this description. I can't actually find the store page for this guy anymore (it's not in my past purchases on etsy for some reason), but it's a pretty solid low budget take on the concept. But we can do better - and we will...

But first, a detour to some wyverns! This little guy is really cute, with a head based on the Peter Jackson Herbit movie's design for Smaug, and a feathery little body that makes it looks like a fantastical archeopteryx.

The same shop makes a more reptile-ish dragon, with leathery wings and scaly skin, which I got in a larger size because, well, you know my preferences. It's like the perfect size to perch on your shoulder, though I'd want something to hold it in place because I'm pretty sure falling off from that height onto a hardwood floor would be the end of it.

There's no shop link for this one or the next because it was a freebie - which is to say I didn't actually order this dragon, but found it in one of my packages as a free gift from the seller. That's the nice thing about shopping on places like etsy and ebay - sometimes the people on the other side of the screen are really solid and decide to give you an extra little treat. This is clearly a Games of Throne-style wyvern specifically, based on the proportions and the shape of the head, and that's pretty cool. The dragons are one of the only things that made it out of that show still looking cool.

The second freebie dragons I got were these little toys of Toothless and Girl Toothless from How to Train Your Dragon. Look at them, they're so cute!

But now... now it's time for the answer to the question:

What

Is the most Deluxe 3-D Printed Dragon

I can get?

The Bronze Medal goes to this marvelous dragon here, which feels like it flew right off of some medieval coat of arms and into my own flesh and blood ones. It's solid, beautifully sculpted, and full of articulation points. However, the method in which it's articulated makes it a bit frustrating to pose, as some of these joints end up bending and twisting in ways you don't want them too. Still an excellent dragon, mind you, but outdone by the next two...

The Silver Medal goes to this marvelous wyvern, which has much tighter joints that are a lot less frustrating to pose. Its wings are a mixture of cloth and plastic, allowing them to flex and bend into a variety of poses (though admittedly the weight of the wings keeps them from holding most of those poses very well). Also, look at that regal face, that sleek sculpt, and those elegant proportions! It's almost a perfect dragon for me. Almost.

My one and only gripe with the previous dragon is that, well, I'm a basic bitch who likes dragons with four legs and two wings the best! And what do you know, they made one of those too! And god, does this dragon look magnificent in person, sporting all of the elegance of the dragon above but with magnificent grasping hands! HANDS! Hands that you'll have to be careful with because the joints are a little loose and like to pop off when you play with them, but still, HANDS!

This is a high enough point to end off on, but there's one more 3-D printed gift I'd like to cover here. My favorite one.

Well, ones I guess. This all started with my students, and well, some of them noted my interest in the 3-D printed dragons they were bringing to school. And a couple of them actually ended up getting 3-D printers of their own (well, their parents' own, ayway) and decided to print off a dragon and a crocodile for me - smaller than all the other dragons here (except the Toothless keycains), but no less dear for it. I guess one of the pros about taking an active interest in the things your students like and letting them gush about it is that they might give you a 3-D printed dragon or crocodile out of the kindness in their little hearts.

[m0dernidi0ts]

Staring Problems || Trevor Spengler x GN! Reader

Recently watched Frozen Empire with my roommates and holy shit...TREVOR SPENGLERRRRR!! UGGGGGGH!! he's so silly....I just thinks he's...neat. Anyways enjoy this little blurb!! Reader and Trevor have been best friends since the reader joined the Ghostbusters Research Center as an inter. The two of them haven't spoken about the potential growing feelings between the two of them until Lars makes it clear that he also likes the reader - Trevor won't stand to loss them to him.

The fluorescent lights hummed overhead like restless spirits, casting their sterile glow across the polished surfaces of the Ghostbusters Research Center. You hunched over your workstation, where an iridescent sample of ectoplasm swirled in its containment unit like liquid moonlight. The familiar symphony of the lab—ozone's sharp bite, metal's cold whisper, and the metronomic beeping of PKE meters—wrapped around you like a well-worn lab coat.

Like a phantom touch between your shoulder blades, you felt those eyes again. A quick glance up confirmed what you already knew: Lars, stationed across the lab like a satellite locked in orbit, hurriedly shifted his gaze back to his computer screen. You figured he must be curious about your research on spectral resonance patterns—it was pretty groundbreaking stuff, after all.

“Hey,” You heard the familiar voice of your best friend, Trevor Spengler. His voice was soft as a greeted you, “Thought you might need a pick-me-up.” Trevor and you had always been close. When the Ghostbusters relocated back to New York, you jumped at the Idea to inter at the research lab. That’s where you met and instantly became friends. From late-night stakeouts, the two of you laughing over shared coffee and energy drinks at odd hours, to your endless inside jokes, Trevor became the person who knew you better than anyone else. He was the one you’d text about anything from weird ghost sightings to random thoughts, and no one else understood you quite the way he did. “Trevor!” you said, your face lighting up as you took the latte gratefully. “You didn’t have to do that, but thank you.” As much as you cherished the easy closeness, a part of you always wanted more. Sometimes, when he’d lean over your shoulder to point something out, his arm brushing yours, or when he’d give you that effortless, heart-stopping grin, you’d find yourself hoping he felt it too. You hid it well, laughing off every little moment, but inside, your heart ached for the chance to be more than just his friend.

His mouth curved into a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. You knew something was eating at him. Every time he’s stepped foot into research lab for the last month or so he’s been…almost absent. Not fully there. What eats at him, eats at you – that’s just friendship.

“So, what’s the occasion?” you teased, trying to lighten the moment. “You checking up on me?”

“Something like that.” Trevor’s voice was casual, but the glance he threw over your shoulder told a different story. His focus shifted back and forth from you to the far side of the room, and the lines around his mouth deepened.

Following Trevor's gaze, you spotted Lars, one of the researchers, standing by a row of computers across the room. He wasn’t just looking in your direction; his gaze was fixed on you, intense and unblinking, like he was trying to unravel a mystery. His eyes didn’t shift when you caught him staring, either—he just kept studying you. But Lars was always into you- well, into your work. The two of you were both very into each other’s research, mutual respect and all that. You glanced back at Trevor, your pulse quickening under the weight of their stares. It was like standing in the center of a storm, two opposing currents pulling at you, the tension thickening around you with each passing second. The strangeness of it all left you feeling raw and unsettled, as though you were a wire stretched between them, humming under an electric charge only you could feel. “Trev,” you turned your attention back to your best friend with a small, awkward laugh, trying to shake off the odd feeling creeping into your stomach. “You’re staring daggers at my coworker?”

Trevor’s face flushed, and he let out a small, uneasy laugh that wasn’t at all like his usual easygoing self. “I’m…not.” His stance shifted, shoulders tense as his fingers tapped a staccato rhythm against his leg, like he was trying to hold something back. “But Lars…” he began, his voice lowering as he cast a dark look over at Lars. It was a look that caught you off guard, a look you’d never seen from him before— It was sudden and intense. “What’s his deal?” Trevor’s jaw clenched slightly, his eyes narrowing.

“Lars?” You turned, glancing over at the researcher again, who was still watching you—though now it seemed he was pretending to busy himself with his work. “Yknow, we’re all just super into the job. You get used to it.” You laughed, shrugging your shoulders softly– shaking off Trevor’s concern with a smile. But Trevor wasn’t laughing.  “He doesn’t look like he’s interested in the job,” Trevor muttered, his voice low as his jaw tightened. “He looks like he’s interested in you.”

Blinking slowly, you were more than a little thrown by the way Trevor was looking at you. The fierce intensity in his gaze felt almost foreign, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were missing something. Since when did he get so worked up about a coworker? And why did he care if Lars was looking at you? “Uh, Trev, you’re being kind of intense. Lars is just passionate,” you replied with a dismissive wave, chuckling nervously as you turned back to your work, hoping to ease the tension. Trevor let out a short, frustrated laugh. “Yeah, ‘passionate’ is one word for it. He’s been staring at you all morning like…” He bit off his sentence, his eyes darkening in a way that left you feeling more than a little off balance.

Blankly you stared back at him, wondering what on earth had crawled under his skin. Trevor was usually so laid-back, but now he was acting like Lars was some kind of threat. Lars was a lot of things; Booksmart, sarcastic, maybe even a tad egotistical – but a threat wasn’t on the list. You had always just assumed he had a staring problem, a lot of people did. One thing you knew for sure was that Trevor was overreacting.  

“Why are you so worked up about this?” you asked, both confused and a little amused. “It’s Lars. He’s just… being Lars. He’s like this with everyone.”

Trevor’s mouth twitched, and he let out a frustrated sigh. “No, he’s not like this with everyone.” He took a step closer to you, lowering his voice. “He keeps looking at you like…that.” You tilted your head, trying to process what he was saying. This whole situation was almost laughable. But Trevor was standing here, looking deadly serious, and now you couldn’t help but second-guess yourself. You cast a sidelong glance at Lars, who was definitely not paying attention to his computer, but instead sneaking another look at you. Then Trevor cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him. His eyes were blazing, a storm brewing in their depths, and it was unsettling to see such intensity on his face. The way he stared at you was almost possessive, like he was wrestling with something he couldn’t quite articulate.

“What’s going on with you?” you asked, taking a half-step toward him. The air felt charged between you, heavy with unspoken words and a tension that made your heart race. You reached out, your hand wrapping around his wrist gently, urging him to meet your gaze. “Y'know what, outside. Let’s step outside for a minute.” Trust that you loved when Trevor stopped by in his free time to surprise you with coffee and listen as you explained your latest breakthrough, but this was all absurd and couldn’t frankly wait till you were off. You pulled him gently toward the door, needing some space from the busy research room. As you stepped out into the hallway, the bustling sounds of the center faded, leaving just the two of you in the quiet. Trevor paced a tight circle, reminiscent of an electron trapped in an unstable orbit. His fingers drummed against his thigh in an erratic rhythm that matched the nervous energy radiating off him in waves. "Why are you so worked up?" you asked, watching his agitation build like pressure in a containment unit. "Did the possessor get to you or something?"  “Lars won’t stop fucking staring at you like he wants to eat you," Trevor leaned against the wall, arms crossed tightly over his chest. He looked conflicted, like he was grappling with some heavy burden he couldn’t seem to articulate. “I just… I don’t like it,” he finally admitted, his voice low and rough around the edges. “I don’t like how he looks at you, like you’re something he can claim. It feels like—like he’s trying to take you away from me, and I don’t want that.” His words hung in the air, and you stared at him, bewildered. “Take me away? Trev, it’s not like that. Lars is just a coworker.” You tried to dismiss his concern, but your heart thudded in your chest at the unexpected intensity of his feelings. This was Trevor, your best friend, the one who always knew how to make you laugh when things got tough. Yet here he was, acting like a scene from a bad drama, his brows knitted together as if the world was crumbling around him.

You took a step back, trying to process the situation. “You’re acting kind of crazy right now,” you said, half-joking, hoping to lighten the mood. “It’s just Lars, He gets like crazed about this stuff! I bet he wishes he was working on my study!” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, It was truly laughable. You never expect Trevor to get…get so worked up over someone looking at you. But here Trevor was with his posture tense, like a coiled spring ready to snap, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were missing something. Finally, he exhaled sharply, looking down at the coffee cup he’d brought you, as though the words he wanted to say were etched somewhere on its surface. The steam curled up like whispered secrets, rising into the air, but his thoughts remained locked away. “It’s not just about him looking at you,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, each word tumbling out like it was a confession. “I just… I don’t want anyone else thinking they can—” He paused, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson, as if the very act of speaking was igniting a fire inside him. “I don’t want anyone else thinking they have a shot with you.”

Your brain went blank, thoughts skidding to a halt like a car on a slick road. Wait. What? Since when did Trevor care if anyone else “had a shot” with you? The very idea sent a wave of disbelief crashing over you. The two of you were just friends, and Trevor had never acted like he felt anything different. This revelation felt like a jolt of electricity coursing through you, leaving you a little dizzy and breathless. 

“Trevor…” you said slowly, a confused smile dancing on your lips, struggling to comprehend this new layer of your friendship. “You’re acting like you’re jealous or something.”

His response was instantaneous, but the admission hung in the air like an unspoken promise. Trevor rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous gesture that belied the storm brewing inside him. His expression was a complicated tapestry woven from embarrassment and frustration, a boy caught in the complexities of emotions he hadn’t anticipated. “Yeah. Maybe I am,” The admission was heavy, weighty, and it settled between you like a thick fog, shrouding the familiar warmth of your friendship in something undeniably charged. “Maybe..It made me realize I don't want anyone else looking at you that way. Except for... me?” Trevor's words tumbled out in a rush, each syllable heavy with a weight he could no longer contain. As he spoke, his gaze bore into you, fierce and unyielding, like a lighthouse searching for lost ships in a stormy sea. There was an intensity in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine, a combination of longing and fear that made your heart race. It was as if he were peeling back layers of his soul, exposing vulnerabilities he had never dared to reveal before. The way he looked at you was electrifying, a raw need escaping beneath the surface.

 You felt the air thicken around you, every heartbeat echoing in the silence as Trevor's admission hung between you like a delicate thread, taut and ready to snap. The intensity of his gaze seemed to strip away the noise of the world, leaving only the two of you in a space that felt both exhilarating and terrifying. “You?” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper, disbelief mingling with a flicker of hope. The realization settled in your chest, warming you from the inside out, yet you couldn’t shake the anxiety curling in your stomach. Did he really mean that?

Trevor shifted slightly, the tension in his posture hinting at a whirlwind of emotions beneath the surface. He took a half-step closer, the space between you charged with unspoken possibilities, and you could see the vulnerability etched into his features. “I know it sounds crazy,” he said, his voice a low murmur, the sincerity evident in every word. It did sound crazy, Trevor Spengler was never this serious about something. “But when I saw him looking at you, it felt like someone was trying to take you away from me…I couldn’t stand the idea of you with him.”

His honesty disarmed you, and for a moment, you were lost in the depths of his eyes—those bright, expressive orbs that had always held a hint of mischief now bore a deeper, more profound weight. You could see the fear lurking behind that fierce gaze, the worry that this admission might change everything. And yet, it also held a spark of something more—a tentative hope, a desire that hinted at the possibility of something beyond friendship.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” you asked, your heart fluttering in your chest, a delicate dance of anticipation and uncertainty. The way Trevor’s brow furrowed as he considered your question made you ache to reach out and soothe the apprehension swirling within him.

“I've wanted to ask you this for a while now, but I don't know how,” he confessed, a soft vulnerability creeping into his voice. As he spoke, Trevor ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that revealed the nervous energy thrumming beneath his surface. His fingers fumbled slightly, as if searching for the right words that danced just out of reach. His shoulders were tense, drawn up as if bracing against an unseen weight, and you noticed how he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, an unconscious movement that betrayed his anxiety. The intensity of his gaze remained locked on yours, a mixture of longing and fear swirling in those bright, expressive eyes, as if he were trying to anchor himself in this moment, to draw strength from your presence.

“I just keep thinking about how… how amazing you are,” he continued, his voice slightly trembling, betraying the vulnerability he was trying to mask. “And I don’t want to mess it up. I know I probably sound ridiculous right now.” He let out a short, nervous laugh, but there was no humor in it—only a poignant blend of anxiety and earnestness.

He rubbed the back of his neck again, a habit you recognized as a tell of his discomfort, and you could see the way his cheeks flushed a deeper shade as he continued to lay bare his feelings. His sincerity shone through the cracks in his facade, and you could sense the weight of the moment bearing down on him. This was Trevor, the lighthearted joker who had always known how to make you smile, now revealing a side of himself that was raw and open, a stark contrast to his usual playful demeanor.

“Trevor,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you. “You aren’t being ridiculous right now.” You took a small step closer, wanting to eliminate the invisible barrier that had formed in the wake of his confession. “The only ridiculous part of this is you thinking I’d choose Lars over someone I’ve had a crush on for months.” The warmth of your words seemed to envelop him like a comforting embrace, and you could see the tension in his shoulders ease slightly, the rigid lines of anxiety softening as a flicker of relief crossed his features.

“Really? Months?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, the vulnerability in his tone drawing you in. His eyes widened, and you caught the slight parting of his lips, the hope illuminating his expression, like dawn breaking through the darkness.

“Really,” you affirmed, feeling a rush of courage swell within you. “I’ve also wanted to say something, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t think you’d…be interested in mel.” As you spoke, you noticed the way Trevor’s breathing quickened, a subtle rise and fall that mirrored the rapid beating of your own heart. He ran a hand through his hair again, a nervous habit that made his curls fall into his eyes, but he didn’t brush them aside—almost as if he wanted to hide behind that curtain of hair, but his resolve was crumbling.

The way his expression shifted from fear to something softer, more tender, sent a warmth flooding through you. “You have no idea how interested I am in you,” he said, a radiant smile breaking across his face—a smile that chased away the shadows of uncertainty. The corners of his eyes crinkled, and you could see the genuine joy blooming there, bright and inviting, as he took a hesitant step closer, as if testing the waters of this new connection.

The moment felt electric, charged with possibility as the barriers between you melted away, and you were left standing in a newfound intimacy that transformed the very fabric of your friendship. You both were standing on the precipice of something beautiful, and the world outside faded into insignificance as you shared this sacred space, caught in the exhilarating dance of discovery, vulnerability, and hope.

Trevor shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a subtle dance of anticipation as he leaned in just a fraction more, the space between you filled with the unspoken promise of what was to come. His gaze softened, the intensity giving way to a gentler warmth as he regarded you, a mix of longing and sincerity swirling in the depths of his eyes. “So, are we like dating now?” he asked, the question hanging in the air like an invitation, daring you both to take the next step into this uncharted territory.The warmth between you grew, and you felt a spark ignite in your chest, urging you to cross the threshold of friendship into something deeper. With a newfound sense of clarity, you realized this was your moment to embrace the vulnerability that came with love—a leap of faith into a beautiful unknown. Trevor’s body language mirrored your own, a blend of eagerness and caution, and you could see the flicker of hope in his eyes, as if he were silently urging you to take that leap together.

“Yeah, Spengler…we’re dating now.”

[cassolotl]

Results of the nonbinary name survey

Hi folks, just thought I'd throw together a quick report about nonbinary names based on the recent survey.

The survey ran from 4th until 13th May, and there were 5,179 usable responses. For this one I won't share the full spreadsheet of all responses, as it contains potentially identifying information. Having said that, you can find a spreadsheet of the information I can share with you here. Every name entered only once has been redacted.

Most popular names

Let's kick it off with the main reason I did this survey, finding the nonbinaryest name:

Alex was #1, with 1.6%, which is 1 in 62 nonbinary people.

Here's the full top 10:

Alex - 1.6% (83)

Jay - 1.2% (64)

Sam - 0.9% (49)

Charlie - 0.7% (36)

Max - 0.7% (36)

Ash - 0.6% (33)

Robin - 0.6% (33)

Rowan - 0.6% (31)

Kit - 0.6% (30)

Eli - 0.6% (29)

Name length

I'm familiar with the stereotype that nonbinary people choose names by taking 3 letters from a bag of Scrabble tiles, or that nonbinary people take letters off their given names until it's one ungenderable syllable, and I would like to take this opportunity to add that these are both excellent ways to create new names. :D

This graph takes a rolling median name length from the whole list, and it shows that generally speaking the most popular names tended to be shorter:

The average name length was 5.1 characters long.

This seems to support the stereotypes, but I feel it's worth mentioning that we can't know for sure whether it actually does, because for all we know, binary people's names might show these kinds of patterns too.

Number of names per person

Participants could enter as many names as they wanted, in a list separated by commas. That made it pretty easy to count them, and it turned out like this:

That's fairly straightforward, most people have only one name.

Problems with survey design

Overall I definitely feel that the survey had some flaws. I knew in advance that there would be some people who have more than one name that they like more or less equally, but for some reason the first question I came up with assumed that you have one name that you like most and then required a single answer from a list stating how that name happened to you - leading the respondent to a different section based on that answer.

What if you've got two or more names that you like equally, and one was given to you by your parents when you were born that you use for work, one is a nickname based on that name that evolved between you and your family and friends as you were growing up, and one is a name you chose yourself and your closest friends call you that? That's pretty much an impossible question, isn't it?

And there were several other questions in the survey that took that approach, making the data from those questions basically useless.

I didn't think it would cause problems for so many people, but it did, and I have learned my lesson there.

However, there was a question asking you to list all your names, and that's what I used to make the ranked list. I don't see how people with more than one name that they prefer completely equally (i.e. those people who would be thrown out of the survey by an impossible required first question) would prefer different names from people with one name only, so I think the ranked list is probably approximately okay, and same for the number of names per person graph and the average name length.

Implications

I haven't decided yet, but I definitely think there's scope for doing this survey annually - but separately from the identity/titles/pronouns survey, for anonymity reasons. It could be fun to track popular nonbinary names over time, similar to the popular name lists for babies that are usually split by boys'/girls' names. It might be a bit meaningless unless I collect country data as well though, which is why the list currently reads very....... American..........

Now that I've learned a lot from a big and not-so-well-designed survey run on my personal account, I'd feel more comfortable designing something a bit more fit for purpose, and running it from the @gendercensus accounts to hopefully get more participants.

~ Fin ~

[what-have-i-unleashed]

i just need a little loving

we interrupt this very fluffy wedding series of fics to bring some angst in this household 🙂🙂🙂 if i have to dream about breaking up with my muse then everyone in this has to suffer

the room is messy, with scraps of fabric scattered across the floor and half-finished patterns strewn around. murder stands in the center of the room, the suit draped on his body unfamiliar but not entirely uncomfortable. horror is crouching in front of him, pins held between his fingers as his hands deftly smooth out the fabric and adjust the pattern. each touch is deliberate and precise, and way too tender for what it should be.

“stay still,” horror mutters, as if murder is moving at all, rooted to his spot as he stares down at horror, something dangerously familiar bubbling in his ribcage.

“i am,” murder whispers, his hands fidgeting at his sides. horror glances up at him, and murder quickly looks away, his soul hammering in his chest.

“… i’m going to check the shoulders,” horror says, standing up. murder can’t trust himself not to flush as the other skeleton moves to stand at his back.

“okay,” he replies, his voice uncharacteristically small.  he feels horror’s presence behind him, solid and unyielding.

horror moves closer. the faint scrape of his fingers on the back of murder’s neck sends shivers up his spines. murder swallows, his gaze fixed resolutely on the mirror in front of him. horror looks calm and focused, but his movements are careful, something murder can’t ignore.

“is it comfortable?” horror asks, tugging at the edge of vest, his knuckles brushing lightly against murder’s.

“it is,” murder’s voice is tight when he answers. “all thanks to you.”

their eyes meet briefly in the mirror. once again, murder’s soul leaps and beats audibly in his chest. and he can see it, if only for a second, in the soft smile on horror’s face – something he doesn’t dare name – and he quickly glances away.

“you’re done,” horror says abruptly, moving away, his movements just a little bit too quick. murder nods, letting out a bated breath as the distance between them returns.

killer’s voice breaks the tension, loud and deliberately cheerful. “alright, my turn!” he drags with him a huge makeup bag. “sit down, pretty boy. let’s see if i can make you even more insufferably stunning.”

murder raises an eye ridge but complies, sitting on a chair killer brings out for him. “alright, be my guest.” he chuckles, but it sounds hollow. he’s hyper-aware of horror’s presence just at the edge of his vision, watching both of them.

killer leans in, one hand on murder’s chin, tilting his head a little backwards. his eyelights, still faint, regard murder with something fond, almost reverent.

“you have a nice face,” killer says, his voice quieter. “makes this easy.”

“we have the same face, dumbass,” murder quips back, but it lacks fire. killer chuckles nevertheless, his thumb absentmindedly moving circles on murder’s face. a habit, murder assumes, though his breath hitches at the gesture.

“close your eyes,” killer murmurs, and murder obliges. he can smell the faint scent of roses on killer, so close and yet so far away. killer works fast, and each stroke of brush on murder’s face feels intimate. the air between them is heavy, charged with something they don’t want to say.

when killer steps back and murder opens his eyes, killer’s usual smirk returns, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “there we go. perfect, as always.”

murder looks in the mirror, his reflection startling him for a moment. the suit, the makeup, the care and effort behind it all – it is overwhelming in a way he can’t comprehend. he looks at killer and horror, his chest tightening. “i look ridiculous.”

killer grins. “ridiculously good.”

horror chuckles, chiming in. “he’s right, you know? you look amazing.”

“i-” murder starts, but then stops. he doesn’t know what to say. what should he even say? that he’s suddenly, inexplicably frightened by this, by what’s supposed to be a happy occasion for all of them? he stares at both of them – killer and horror. what are they to him now? his friends? his ex-partners? his… something else? the room feels too small, too packed with ghosts of memories and feelings he doesn’t want to speak about. his throat clogs up, and he forces down his spiraling thought. in the end, he only says. “thank you. for this.”

“no problem,” killer smiles, clapping his hands together. “alright! it should be my turn next now. i will outshine both of you, for sure.”

“outshine, huh?” horror crosses his arms. “we’ll see about that…”

murder laughs, the sound lighter than he actually feels. the three of them move into a long-familiar pattern, their banter filling the room with a semblance of ease, the same routine that they always had – it is hard to beat old habits after all, and there’s just something so comfortable about it. something they don’t want to break after all. something unspoken. something they can’t escape or let go.

maybe never.

[voonroo]

Twisted Wonderland Mafia AU Introduction

⌐‣TWST MAFIA AU

Want more? Check out the masterlist↩︎

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This could 100% be expanded on if I actually ever get back into TWST. I'm working on clearing out some old works deep in the depths of my Google Docs and Notes app because I feel kinda bad for disappearing suddenly😋 This is actually from late 2022... Thanks to @justcallmecj for encouraging me to post this again.

The Night Raven District is a district full of criminal groups who will do anything to keep their city to themselves.

There’s the RSA District, which has, for years, been trying to reclaim property from the Night Raven District. No one knows what RSA stands for. However, it is thought to stand for the phrase Recover, Seize, Adjust, as it is the group's job to salvage stolen districts and cities from the unruly.

The Mafia Groups

Heartslabyul

A group of gamblers whose intent is to teach others self-restraint. Most often you will find anyone apart of Heartslabyul at night, or in a casino. There is always a member of Heartslabyul in the city's most popular places for a quick gamble.

A considerably notable pattern to identify one of these members is if they have the symbol of a heart, spade, diamond, or clover painted under or on the eye. The explanation for why it’s so easy to find them is that they don't hide, they aren’t doing anything illegal so they see no need to. Or at least the majority of them. It is effortless to become a part of this clique if you can withstand the harsh rules that come with it.

Savanaclaw

This pack is full of fighters. Svanaclaw does the most around the city pertaining to almost anything physical. Is someone getting a little too close to the district? They’re the first to do something about it. Most will jump at any opportunity to turn something into a challenge.

Numerous people in the group have fought for something or someone. Most likely being unsuccessful, but don’t speak of it. Or else you might be on the news the next morning, for these people aren’t known for their steady temper. To be a part of this club, you have to be physically strong and have vigorous will.

Octavinelle

Largely Octavinelle members are by the coast dealing with outsiders who don’t know any better. Those that aren’t? They oversee a lot of legal issues. Such as digging up dirt on others and using it for their own advantage. They're good with their words, many of which can get just about anyone under their thumb.

The captain of Octavinelle owns a pub near the docks. Though, he is pretty well known to be your typical everyday businessman. These people aren’t always the strongest, nonetheless, don’t get too comfortable. You never know when they’ll make you walk the plank and feed you to the sharks.

Scarabia

This party is one of the lesser-known groups. They are often found in the city shops during the day. You wouldn’t be any the wiser. Because the group is the smallest compared to the others, it’s hard to identify hardly anybody that’s part of the Scarabian folk. They’re onlookers.

It’s said they “help” the other mobs with some inside information. No one knows where they get said information, it is said that there is a particular person that can with just a few words. The leader of the Scarabia team is very in-depth with the local trades, they're able to get anything for a good price.

Pomefiore

Another community that isn’t well known. It’s difficult to get into the prestigious group of Pomefiore. You must be hand-picked by the crown of this cluster. This group is the most out and about in public. You secretly see the members every day.

Evidently, they are remarkably nice to look at and often speak with higher-ups. The director of this group is never seen without other group members especially if they’re ones that he himself, needs to whip into shape. They’re also good at covering their tracks and hunting others down.

Ignihyde

Ignihyde is the least-known group out of the big seven. These people work behind the scenes, in the backgrounds. Either covering up news stories or scrolling the dark web for more stockpiles. It is said that the supervisor of Ignihyde was the cause of a nasty computer virus, putting thousands of electronics out of service.

There is still no known fix to this virus. Or maybe there is, you just have to pay a hefty price. Only those of the best technicians or engineers are even considered to be given a role in this organization.

Diasomania

The most powerful body of the Night Raven District. You’d have to really fuck up to catch even a glimpse of someone from this group.

The boss of this body is fairly notorious. This troop has the strongest defense against just roughly anyone. If there’s ever a fight with Diasomnia in it, they will come out on top. For years this group has kept RSA at bay. No recent members have entered Diasomnia for years, the only way to get in is to have caught the eyes of a certain individual.

Word Count: 803

[mysewingadventures]

Making the ✨Lioncourt Gown✨ (Part 2/4)

I'm glad I started making this gown early because things... have not exactly been going according to plan.

In my last post I mentioned I had ordered some satin tape for the color details, but yesterday my order suddenly got canceled and I couldn't find tape anywhere. I scowered the entire internet for some 10mm ivory satin bias tape but I got absolutely nothing. Finally, I decided to settle for 15mm and now I'm waiting for that to arrive and crossing my fingers it won't get canceled again.

In the meantime, I've been left to do minor work on everything else, but wasn't really able to actually make much progress because I can't do anything before I apply that tape. I sewed the boning channels on the inside of the bodice and put some boning in (artificial baleen - I used to use cable ties for this but the artificial baleen is just much softer and easier to cut/work with).

I also attempted to make a sleeve pattern by altering a sleeve pattern I found in The Voice of Fashion (a compilation of magazines with sewing patterns from the turn of the century. Highly recommend if you're into that time period!). Now, as I've probably mentioned in every other post of mine, I absolutely suck at making sleeves so this was the only way it could turn out somewhat okay, so I made the pattern, made a mock-up to make sure it fit and also because I couldn't afford to waste any of the black base fabric, and once I was happy with it I cut it out of the black fabric with the help of my lovely assistant.

Maybe I should mention that my assistant is rarely helpful, but we're a family business, what can I say.

Then I drew a line down the center of the sleeve along which I was going to lay the color details and then went to cut them out. Once again, a super tedious process that took me about two to two and a half hours just to cut out 32 individual triangles. But towards the end, i started to get the hang of it and was able to do it faster. Maybe the skirt details won't be as tedious now, hopefully (who am I kidding it's going to be hell).

I also decided to make a little detail I would add to the bodice later. It just felt right to inscribe the name of the gown (and its original wearer in a way) with fancy letters, because it just wouldn't be a gown inspired by Lestat without a touch of narcissism, now, would it?

This morning, my skirt fabric was finally delivered! I was worried the color was going to be too bright but it's this perfect terracotta shade that I was looking for! I'm always a little wary of buying fabrics online, especially when I need them in an exact color, but this one's truly beautiful and I'm so happy I got it. Immediately, I went to work on the skirt because I thought finally! I can make some progress!

18th century skirts are super easy and quick to make. You just need two rectangular pieces of fabric, some pins and that's pretty much it. The sizing is also very forgiving so you'll be fine if it ends up being a few centimeters too big or too small. It is however better to make them on the bigger side if you're unsure. So I cut the fabric according to my measurments and went to pleating.

You'll want to do one big pleat in the center and then go from there. In my case, I cut the fabric into a 1x1m square, and pleated from the center to the edge to get the 1m down to around 37cm (half of the waist circumference). Since the fabric was around 1,40m wide originally, I thought I'd just pleat the 1,40 edge down to 37cm and get a fuller skirt as a result, but it was really difficult to get it down to that size so I decided to shorten it down to 1m. So you'll just have to just try and see what works.

Next up, I folded over the pleated edge to create a more finished look and sewed that with a sewing machine. Then I finished the outer edges before connecting the sides while the skirt was inside out. Technically, you could do this differently by doing a flat-felled seam which would give you a nicer finish, but that required a lot of thinking and pinning on my part which, to be completely honest, I wasn't feeling, so I decided to do it this way. This method requires more thread, but to me feels 'easier'. Either way, when you connect the edges, make sure to not connect them all the way to the top, or you won't be able to put it on afterwards. Leave a small slit of roughly 15cm (I eyeballed it, no need to be precise here) on each side at the top of the skirt.

Lastly, I finished the bottom seam and added some cotton tape to fasten it, and voilà- the skirt.

I pinned everything I have so far to the mannequin, the sleeves and the color details are all just pinned for now so apologies for the messy look, i just wanted to give you an idea of what it may look like when it's done. Hopefully, I'll get the tape by the week end and will be able to continue with the work.

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4|

[bouquetface]

Felix - Vedic Birth Chart Analysis

Per request I am working on doing all Stray Kid members. There is no birth time so in-depth predictions are impossible. Take it as entertainment.

This is using vedic so the placements will be in different signs than tropical.

Romantic Relationships:

In his Venus conjunct Mercury, Mercury holds the lowest degree emphasizing the importance of communication. Romance and love can’t begin without good conversation. A woman can’t just be pretty, she needs to be charming in a clever way to get his attention.

Virgo Venus is considered debilitated as Virgo doesn’t allow Venus to express itself easily. Virgo Venus constantly looks for ways to perfect itself rather than enjoy itself. This can show Felix may seek perfection in himself and his partners. His Virgo Venus makes him very aware of everything that can go wrong in a relationship. He can be nit-picky and critical of relationships. This results in caution toward relationships which can lead to marrying at a later age than norm. Venus conjunct Mercury in Virgo indicates he may marry someone younger when he’s older. Nothing can be said for sure as we don’t have his birth time - so without knowing house placements a lot of information is lost.

His spouse will be someone who is creative. She’ll be adaptable and a quick learner. She may have quick wit too. She can definitely charm her way into getting what she wants. She may be a great writer as a hobby. She is highly logical - mind over heart type of person. She can ground him, she is the opposite of an enabler. She attempts to fix any issue he has without being asked. She may be dominating in marriage. She desires control - in marriage, she may take on managing their home/lives to feel secure.

She may be very active. Physically, she could be tall, lean and very youthful. She may be a performer herself in some way - acting, modelling, dancer, etc.

Venus in Chitra suggests his spouse may be interested in aesthetics and design. This could be career-wise like working in the fashion industry or as a hobby/personal interest.

Her bad trait may be that she is very judgemental/critical. She may be difficult to please as her attention to detail makes it easy for her to find flaws/problems.

Venus in Virgo opposite Pisces Moon - one way this placement manifests is encountering women who unfairly or harshly criticize him. He may have experiences with women who are insensitive to his feelings.

For example: Pisces Moons are very imaginative & often more sensitive than they appear. They can have escapist tendencies - finding solace in music, reading, film, gaming, etc. He may encounter a woman who see his hobbies as him being lazy or wasting his time. Virgo Venus conjunct Mercury shows his partners will not be shy to voice their criticism and opinions. The opposition suggests his partner may unintentionally belittle or hate on something that is deeply important to him.

He will be hurt by situations like this resulting in him becoming reserved and cold to her - even if it isn’t the exact scenario given. Venus shows women and Moon shows mom so rather than experiencing this with a spouse it could be his mother or another woman in his life. It doesn’t have to be a huge event in his life where he’s completely destroyed by it & the relationship has to end. It can be a small incident that sticks out in his memory or a reoccurring pattern in his life.

However, accuracy would be influenced by the entire chart. There is no birth time so in-depth predictions are impossible. Take it as entertainment.

Personality

Pisces Moon are very artistic and adaptable. This mutable nature can result in Felix trying out different roles in his career. He may later want to go beyond writing and singing/rapping - example: he could want to produce, direct, photography, fashion design, compose, act, play an instrument, etc.

The sextile to Jupiter in Taurus shows an abundance of creativity. His Pisces Moon is supported and protected by Taurus Jupiter. He is unlikely to fall into the negative sides of Pisces Moon like depression & addiction with Jupiter’s protection. Jupiter aspect from an earth sign gives him the ability to ground his imagination - make his ideas a reality. This is an excellent wealth indicator too.

He is likely very intuitive. He is naturally in-tune with other people’s feelings and intentions. Paired with his Virgo placements, he can be very observant and analytical. He can attempt to solve other people’s problems.

He may have negative experiences in giving/helping that result in him developing a reserved nature. Example: He feels used, he feels drained. Often this is a lesson pisces moons have to learn - not everyone in need deserves their energy/help.

In vedic, moon symbolizes the mom as well as our emotional self. Pisces Moon Opposite Mercury & Venus shows his mom way have a good eye for details. She could be very intelligent, organized and hardworking. Felix could have developed these traits from watching her. His family may motivate and push him to do better. They could have always had high expectations for him.

[moistmailman]

Voices of the Void AU

When Pyrrha first got her degree she imagined her job would be more worthwhile; something that she can be extremely proud of that will make leaps and bounds in her fields of work. That’s the reason she worked her ass off for the degree in the first place. Yet here she is, in the middle of bumfuck nowhere eating a pack of instant ramen all alone at night, hundreds of miles away from any other human.

When they told her she was going to be pretty isolated from society the redhead didn’t know they meant in the middle of a deep forest where the only source of companionship she had were deer and a stray cat that roamed around. The loneliness isn’t even worst things about this entire job though. Granted, the loneliness is terrible but it’s not the worst.

It’s the silence.

There’s no TV, radio, game, basically anything to occupy her during any downtime. Not even any books or newspaper to distract her from the deafening silence that surrounds her entire life now. The redhead actually picked up the habit of talking to herself just to fill the room with some sort of sound that isn’t just the occasional buzzing of one of the machines. This lab is slowly draining her sanity.

The lab in question was a complete wreck when she first arrived too, and it took an entire week just to make it hospitable. Well, as hospitable as a prison that is. Still beats the complete state it was in when she first arrived though. Pyrrha has no idea how the place became such a mess, but she does know that the last person who was stationed here nearly went insane from isolation and probably had some sort of episode that caused them to destroy the place. 2 months into the job and Pyrrha really can’t blame them. Although, the thought of possibly following in their footsteps makes the job even more demanding despite the job itself being pretty bare boned.

All Pyrrha really does for her work is collect signals that are from space while occasionally fixing satellites. Easy on paper, terrible in action since you’re all by yourself with nothing but your thoughts and occasional paranoia. The signals in question aren’t really interesting either. They take a long time to download and when you listen to them it’s mostly just static, loud noises or the ever so interesting deafening silence of space.

“What a fulfilling career.” She quietly said to herself as she taps her finger on the desk. “Graduated at the top of my class for this.” The degree hanging on her wall seems to be completely useless to her at the moment. Just a visible reminder what she studied her whole life for isolation and silence. She blew a raspberry in frustration.

Although today was, at the very least, somewhat interesting since she did got a semi out of the ordinary signal this morning that she is currently refining to make it more clear. Over the loud static it partially sounded like something was speaking, but since it’s in the human nature to try and find patterns in things, this isn’t really anything to go on without further proof. In fact, this isn’t even the first signal that sounded like something was speaking. So she’s not exactly that excited over this whole ordeal, but at least it’s better than most of the signals she finds. Doesn’t make the burning glare from her diploma go away though. If it could laugh at her then it would.

A beep alerted the redhead to the machine to her right. After several hours the signal is finally refined and ready to be played. She slurped up the noodles hanging from her mouth before putting the container on the table. Pyrrha then stood and nearly stumbled from being light headed. Sitting down for hours on end isn’t really that good for your body and standing up quickly doesn’t really help either. She really has to get outside more often. Maybe she’ll fix some of the satellites in the morning to get some exercise.

With a quick motion, Pyrrha removed the signal from the machine and placed it into the computer to her left, which plays back every single signal that she finds. One pressed button later and it started to play. Again, this isn’t the first thing she found that sounded suspicious. An unrefined signal is barely hearable over all of the loud static, and occasionally you’ll might hear something in it since your brain is probably slowly going insane from the lack of any communication at all. So the redhead’s hopes weren’t exactly high at the moment.

That soon changed pretty fast though when the signal played. It sounded strange and out-worldly, which is normal for her job since she’s is quite literally listening to things that are possibly millions of light years away; but this one is different. It sounded…..it sounded like something is speaking. She can’t make out what they were saying but the more she listened to it the more it becomes obvious that this isn’t one of her normal signals. Sitting up from her chair and scooting closer to the computer, she listened closely. Maybe she finally went insane and is hearing voices now?

“It’s going to be a downward spiral, isn’t it?” She thought to herself. “First I’m going to hear voices, then I’m going to trash the place like the other guy and get placed in a room with mattresses for walls….still homier than this lab though.”

Although the more she listened the less she believed it was all in her head. This is pretty clear honestly. She can’t really make out what it’s saying, but it still there, hidden behind slight static. Something is trying to communicate or at the very least just trying to speak. Almost as if it’s speaking some sort of English but horribly. Nothing it’s saying is coherent.

Pyrrha closed her eyes and listened hard, trying to see if she can recognized anything at all. A single word would be huge for her work. A giant breakthrough honestly, making the entire silent hell she was tormented to worth it completely. No longer will her degree hang there on the wall mockingly like a smudge.

And then finally it happened. She recognized something. A single word from this entire signal that is more clear than anything else on it. But the word itself baffled her since she doesn’t understand why it’s being relayed to her in the first place. She rewinded the audio and replayed it. Then rewinded it again afterwards and play it once more. Rewind repeat, rewind repeat, rewind repeat. She did this for 5 minutes and each time that word pierces though the gibberish like a knife. It’s like listening to a foreign language and in the middle of a sentence they randomly say an English word.

“What the heck?” Pyrrha mumbled to herself as she stands up, deciding to move even closer to the computer just to make sure that she was in fact hearing what she was hearing. “Is this a random radio signal or something?”

The distinct word she heard was beautiful…..

*MEANWHILE*

Saphron couldn’t help to chuckle at her brother. Poor guy was really struggling with this, not that she can blame him. Humans are weird creatures that have multiple form of languages on their planets, which is pretty unheard of for the rest of the galaxy. Doesn’t help that the language in question is pretty confusing in the first place that is full of inconsistencies. Like how the hell doesn’t tomb and bomb rhyme? It make sense. Who even made this stupid language.

Regardless of the dumb language, her brother is trying his damndest to get his message across to some female human that he’s trying to woo. She doesn’t even know how he found her in particular out of the billions of people who live on the planet, especially since she’s seem to be completely isolated from everyone else on the planet. Yet he somehow he saw her and immediately fell hard. Although he’s kinda doing a terrible job at speaking since he seems to be butchering the already butchered language. She doubts anyone would be able to decipher anything he’s saying; he practically invented a new language at this point. Although, he seems to have the word ‘beautiful’ down pretty well.

“Will you stop snickering and just try to help me?!” His brother groaned, causing her to snicker louder.

“Okay, fine. You’re not speaking clear enough.” Saphron instructed. “Speak more clearly, and more confidently too. You’re like a dead fish right now. No human girl would want that.”

“A dead what?”

Saphron sighs. “You know Jaune, how are you expecting to even talk to this human woman if you don’t even know the basic things about this planet?”

“I’ll get to that part later! Don’t rush me!” “Jaune groaned out, rolling his eyes. “Can’t you just tutor me on English more! Please!”

[kanerallels]

For day two of @kaneraweek, behold my latest fic! Canon compliant, set after A New Dawn and before SWR

Read on AO3

It used to be, Hera didn’t have to fix nearly as many appliances on the Ghost. Sure, the caf maker had broken down once or twice, and obviously the ship itself needed upkeep all the time.

But before Kanan had joined her crew, she’d kept the kitchen appliances to just the caf maker, the stove it had come with, and a cooling supply unit. Basic and easy, nothing too fancy.

When Kanan had arrived, he’d almost immediately started pestering her about buying all manner of “completely essential” appliances. First the therma-slice for toasting bread, then a blender. By the time he started on his waffle maker vendetta, Hera had instituted the “buy it with your own money and you’d better have a really compelling argument when you bring it home” rule.

This had slowed Kanan a little, and had seen him heading back to the store to return a few items. But he remained stubborn on others of the appliances— and Hera had to admit, his arguments could be very compelling. Mainly the ones that resulted in some of his more delicious dishes. 

Luckily for him, the meals were making the repairs worth it. At the moment, Hera was working on repairing the sonic dishwasher— although she was pretty sure it was a lost cause. Kanan had found it second hand a few months ago, and it had seen better days, to say the least. The filtration system was barely clinging to life, and as a result the dishes were receiving more of a gentle dousing than a proper scrub.

We’re probably going to have to go back to handwashing dishes, she thought, sliding out from under the counter where it was installed. Setting the spanner she was holding back into the tool box, she rose to examine the parts scattered across the countertop.

“Here’s hoping some of this is salvageable,” she muttered— to whom, she wasn’t sure. She’d sent the other two crewmembers on a supply run. Kanan had been planning to pick something up for dinner, and Chopper had been sent with him to monitor exactly how much he spent. The man had a bad habit of spending far too much on seasoning.

As she started picking over the parts, a new song hummed out of the tiny speaker she had set up a little ways away, playing one of the music chips she and Kanan had found at the black market on Lothal. To her surprise, Hera recognized the song.

It was a song she’d heard a hundred times growing up, one her mother had loved. A swell of emotion pushed through Hera’s chest as she remembered Eleni Syndulla dancing and singing along to the song.

Swaying a little in time to the music, she closed her eyes, trying to remember the way she’d moved. It had been years since Hera had actually danced, and she’d never been the best dancer. But hearing this song, remembering her childhood, she found herself wanting to.

The sounds of the violin hummed through the air, and Hera hummed with it as she moved, her steps graceful as she followed the patterns her mother had traced on their kitchen floor when she was so much younger.

Growing more confident, she lost herself in the music, finding her rhythm much more quickly than she would have expected. Spinning, her steps were quick and light as she twirled again— and then came face to Kanan, who was standing in the doorway.

Hera froze, shock cutting through her. Judging by Kanan’s expression, he was just as surprised. “Sorry,” he said quickly. “I just came to tell you that we’re back— I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You didn’t,” Hera said, her voice a little harsher than she’d meant it to be. She felt a flash burning across her face and turned, intending to move towards the radio and turn it off, but Kanan’s voice stopped her.

“I didn’t know you could dance.”

“I can’t.” Hera paused, realizing how silly her words sounded. “Well. I don’t. Usually.”

“Ah.” Kanan’s voice was quiet, thoughtful. Perhaps he was thinking, as Hera was, of the weight behind those words. Behind the culture she’d come from, where dancing wasn’t just dancing, but the job, far too often, as a slave.

He was the first one to break the silence. “I’ve never seen anyone dance like that. Would you… could you show me how?”

Hera, who’d been in the middle of turning off the speaker, stopped with her hand on the knob. Glancing over her shoulder, she frowned at Kanan. “What?”

“I’m wondering if you’ll teach me,” he said, a flash of self consciousness crossing his face.  His tone stayed easy and matter of fact as he said, “If you don’t mind.”

Hera stared at him for a minute. “If this is some half-hearted attempt to flirt with me—”

“It’s not!” Kanan protested. “Listen, I like dancing. And I like learning new things. This is the perfect combo.” Pausing, he frowned at her. “And I’ll have you know my flirting is never half-hearted.”

Hera snorted with amusement despite herself. “How could I make that mistake?” She paused, thinking over the moves she knew. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do. This dishwasher isn’t going anywhere anyways.”

“Does that mean the repairs aren’t going well?” Kanan asked as Hera turned up the song, filling the room with the vibrant sounds of the violin.

“Let’s just say I wouldn’t pin all your hopes on that thing,” Hera said wryly, turning to face him. “Okay. Let’s give this a shot— I haven’t done this since I was a little girl, and my mother taught me by being my partner. So here goes nothing.”

“I have utter faith in you, Captain Hera,” Kanan assured her, taking the hand she offered him. His fingers laced between hers, and Hera felt a fleeting shiver go down her spine as he gave her hand a quick squeeze. “Ready when you are.”

Pushing the feeling away, Hera said, “Okay. Move with me.”

She started to take the first step— and nearly tripped over Kanan’s feet as he moved in the opposite direction. Cursing, he said, “Sorry, sorry. Wrong way.”

Clamping down on the urge to laugh, Hera said, “Let’s start again— this time a little slower.”

Step by step, she slowly walked him through the dance until he was confident and the song had long since finished. Then, she went back over to the speaker, and started it up again. “Let’s see how you do a little faster,” she told him.

His grin was confident and his grip was sure as Kanan took her hand. And then they were moving, feet tapping the ground in sync with the tempo of the drums.

Their start was a little off center, Kanan stumbling a little. But then he found his balance, catching up with her easily. He’d paid good attention to her instructions, and it paid off. Before long, any former missteps were long forgotten as they fell into the rhythm of the dance together.

They were moving in perfect tandem as they spun around the room, the drums and violin echoing through the kitchen. For what felt like forever, Hera could only feel Kanan’s hand in hers, the song humming through her veins, and a warm certainty that came from having the right partner. One who could keep up with her, no matter what.

And then, with a final burst of music, the song was done, and Hera was standing still, hand in hand with Kanan in the middle of the kitchen. Her heart was pounding against her collarbone, and as Kanan grinned at her, she found she couldn’t quite catch her breath.

“Not bad, dear,” she said as another song came onto the speaker, this one slower and smoother. 

“Thanks,” Kanan said. “I’m a little better at dances that I’ve actually had some time to practice, though.”

There was a question in his voice, a hint of a challenge, and Hera couldn’t resist meeting it. “I’ll be the judge of that,” she said, her voice dry but teasing.

The smile that crossed his face sent a warm flutter through her, and he caught her other hand, bringing it up to his shoulder. “Then by all means, judge,” he said, and with a smooth step they were dancing again, this time a slow waltz like they danced in the Core Worlds.

He hadn’t been wrong— Kanan was good at this, keeping time easily and guiding her gently. As they circled the kitchen, he quietly asked, “I’m assuming that song means something… personal to you?”

“It does,” Hera said, her gaze dropping to her feet. She counted her steps for a minute before she said, “It’s… my mother used to dance to that song. It makes me think of her.”

For the first time, there was the tiniest hitch in Kanan’s stride. “I didn’t mean to pry,” he said. “You don’t have to—”

“No— I want to,” Hera said, finding that it was true. That here, her fingers laced with Kanan’s, she wanted to tell him about her mother.

She couldn’t remember a time when that had happened before.

“It was when I was little,” she told him. “During the Clone War, when we were in the bomb shelters. She would show me the steps to this dance to distract me from the explosions. And to keep me from going to look at the ships.”

Kanan chuckled. “Sounds like you.”

“Hmm. Even when we weren’t in danger, I always seemed to hear that song around her.” Hera smiled at the memory. “I even found her and my father dancing to it once— and he’s not exactly one for dancing. But he— he did it for her, because he loved her. And she loved that song.”

Biting her lip, she paused, then said, “She died when I was thirteen.”

There was no response, and Hera dared a glance at Kanan’s face, wondering what she’d find. His eyes were gentle as he said, “The Empire?”

Hera gave a quick nod, feeling her throat tighten. “After that, it was just me and my father. And he was so focused on leading the Rebellion on Ryloth… it was only a few years before I took off on my own.”

Letting out a shaky exhale, she said, “But I still think of her when I hear that song.  And that dance is… it’s hers, to me.”

“When I asked,” Kanan said slowly, “I didn’t mean to pry into something personal—”

Hera shook her head, cutting him off. “No, no— you weren’t. It was… it was nice to tell someone else about it. She would have liked that.” She hesitated and then added before she could think better of it, “She would have liked you.”

Kanan’s eyes widened, and then a pleased look flashed across his face. “I’m sure I would have liked her,” he told her, his voice deep and sincere. The warmth in his voice made her suddenly hyper aware of his hand resting on her waist, his eyes on her. And… it wasn’t in a bad way.

Kriff. Hera held back her wince. This was the sort of thing she was trying to ignore, but had been finding harder and harder to miss lately. Namely, Kanan. His kindness, and his warmth, and how he treated her. Like she mattered, like his captain. Like a friend and… sometimes something more.

And she shouldn’t admit how much she enjoyed those times. Because she didn’t have time, she had to focus on the cause. Nothing mattered more than that. Nothing could.

But when he joked with her, or made a point of making one of her favorite meals, or called her “Captain Hera” in that voice, it could be very hard to remember that nothing was supposed to matter more. 

Even now, dancing with him in the kitchen, his hands gentle but firm, her mind whispered, What if I could have this, and still fight?

You know you can’t, she told herself. You’ll put it all first, and he deserves better than that. He wouldn’t stick around anyways, not for long. Not with that. No one could wait for that long.

“Hera?”

Kanan’s voice cut through her thoughts, and she glanced back up to see him studying her with concern. “You okay?” he asked. “You looked like you were a thousand miles away.”

“Fine,” Hera said, pushing the thoughts aside. “Just— just thinking. We should probably go get the rest of the supplies inside, and—”

“Hera.”

This time, it wasn’t a question, and Force, why did he have to look at her like that? Like she was the only thing in the galaxy, like the stars themselves were shining in her eyes. Hera tried to force herself to step back, to move away.

But she couldn’t. She didn’t want to. For once, she wanted something for herself, one thing that wasn’t a part of her cause. And so she stepped closer to Kanan and cautiously pressed her lips against his.

He went very still, and then he was kissing her back, hand at her waist pulling her closer and his free hand moving up to cup the side of her face. And his response was far from cautious. It was warm and gentle and so completely Kanan that Hera felt almost weak at the knees.

She hadn’t thought that it would be like this. So… right. Like she’d found a part of herself she was missing. And now that she found it, how was she ever supposed to be without it?

A clatter of metal on metal, and loud binary bwomping jerked her back to reality, and Hera pulled back, breaking the kiss. She stared at Kanan, who was just as wide-eyed as she was, and then turned to where Chopper was sitting in the doorway. “What the kark is going on in here?” the droid demanded. “We were supposed to bring in the supplies.”

“You’re right,” Hera said, shocked that her voice could stay so steady when she felt like she was shaking to pieces. “Both of you get started on that— I need to finish up here. And no arguments, Chopper,” she added as the droid started to beep a protest. “This isn’t a discussion.”

Chopper grumbled something sulky, and rolled back down the hall. Leaving Hera alone. With Kanan. Who she had just kissed.

Forcibly shoving the memory out of her mind, she told him, “You should go, too.”

“So… we’re not going to talk about—”

“No,” Hera said, keeping her voice firm and steady. “I am going to apologize, and then we’re not going to talk about it ever again.”

Because that was all she could do. She couldn’t have Kanan and the cause. There was no way. So she met his gaze and said, her voice soft, “I’m sorry. Now, please… go help Chopper.”

His gaze was unreadable as he studied her for a moment, then slowly nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Hera echoed, and turned back to the pieces of the dishwasher scattered across the counter, trying to pretend like he wasn’t still standing behind her, watching her. Trying to pretend like she couldn’t still feel the ghost of his lips on hers.

She heard him step closer to her, then pause. “Hera? Thank you.”

Hera wasn’t sure whether she should laugh or burst into tears. “For what?”

“For the lesson. And… for telling me. Trusting me. It means a lot.”

With that, he turned and left, footsteps echoing inside the hallway, leaving Hera in a swirl of emotions she didn’t know how to put back together. That was so, so stupid. Why did I have to do that?

It wouldn’t be easy to go back after this, but she’d find a way. A way to pretend they were just friends, that he didn’t mean more to her. She’d remind herself that the cause came first, that there were people who needed help, and go back to being his boss and his friend.

But. In the latest parts of the night, when she couldn’t hold it back, the memory of the kiss would resurface. And she would know that it was worth it. And that if she had the choice, she wouldn’t have changed it. She only would have stopped him from walking away.