#well first of all no one questions the boss so he has to discipline them

[softquietsteadylove]

You think you can make another marriage contract AU and show us how Gil is careful around her and such? It was such a sweet interaction from the last one I do wish to see it another time in another situation. Pretty please? 💚

"You're doing pretty good," Gilgamesh chuckled, leaving Thena to her chopping now that she seemed to be getting the hang of it. Very slowly, but still.

"You don't have to patronise me," she muttered as she sliced through the onion carefully. He had already done the cross chopping for her, all she had to do now was slice down straight.

"I'm not, I'm not, I really think you're doing great." He looked over his shoulder again but Thena was almost leaned down to be eye level with her task at hand. She really was terrible in the kitchen, but it was nothing short of charming.

Gil opened up the higher cabinets to retrieve some wine glasses for them. Thena didn't have a habit of drinking, but he had seen her enjoy a glass of wine with dinner here or there. And he'd brought home some nice champagne that he'd gotten out of a business deal. After he'd wiped the blood off the label, of course. "Y'know, I think-"

The glass slipped from his fingers on its way down, its large and crystal figure shattering on the kitchen floor. It was sharp against the serenity of the smooth music he'd selected for the quiet evening.

"Ay shi-" he cursed, stepping back in his house slippers. He looked over, the yelp that had hit the air registering in his mind. He frowned, "Thena?"

She had let out the sound of panic and ducked down. She was crouched on her knees, arms curled over her head. It was a reflex, based on pure instinct. And he hated to see it.

He left the glass on the floor. He could tend to it in a minute. He walked carefully, trying to approach her as gently as possible. "I'm sorry, Thena."

She was shaking. But she peeked out at him, shame written all over her face. "S-Sorry, I didn't-"

"Don't be sorry," he soothed, placing his hands on her shoulders. He helped her stand and lean on the counter. "It scared me, too. Are you okay?"

She nodded, but he could see the trembling in her fingers.

He took her hand in his, "come on, let's sit down."

She didn't argue with him, which was as good a sign as any that she wasn't feeling her best. She let him lead her to the couch, "I'm fine, Gil, really."

He liked it when she called him Gil. "You don't have to be. I'm sorry I startled you."

She shook her head, but a familiar look of annoyance came over her. "No, I...I would like nothing more than to say it's nothing."

He continued to hold her hand. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

She sighed. She really didn't, but she was going to anyway. She curled her legs up on the couch. He helped her sort out the blanket of his she liked to lay over them. "Would you be surprised if I brought up my father?"

He tried to keep his answers passive and neutral. This was her story, and it wouldn't do any good for him to start cursing about what a rat bastard piece of shit that guy was.

"He became more violent the older I became," Thena recited as if it were blase and not something horrifying. "By the time I was an adult, he realised that I was no longer so easy to intimidate. But throwing things was still effective."

Gil balled his fist up under the blanket. Her father would throw his drink glasses at her? Maybe letting him live wasn't the solution, no matter how much the drunk gambling addict owed him.

"It wasn't every night, but if he really needed something, he would throw anything we had on hand," she concluded. The way she met his eye was a sign that she was done telling the story, and moreover she was done with the vulnerability it took to tell it.

Gil pulled his hand out from the blanket and moved it slowly, making sure it was in her direct line of vision. It was one of those things he had learned was good for her when she had moved in. When she couldn't see all of him was when she was most on edge. So he moved slowly, talked gently.

And not just because of his vow to take care of her as his wife. They didn't have to be married for him to believe that she deserved to be cared for, especially after all she had endured on her own already.

Thena watched as he reached for her hand again. She gave it, and it seemed she was becoming more and more willing to share in those little kinds of affections.

He raised her hand to his lips equally slowly, and she allowed it. For all he had done already to acclimate her to her life being married to him, he was not a barbarian, and he wouldn't force her to accept anything she didn't want. That included the simplest, smallest of things, like a kiss on the hand.

She tilted her head.

"I'm sorry, Thena, I should have been more careful," he resolved, already thinking about having all the glassware moved to lower down, open shelves so there was less chance of a surprise like this.

"It was an accident, Gil, these things are bound to happen," she excused for him, and he thought perhaps too eagerly. She leaned forward in her seat on the couch, towards him. "If anything I wish my reaction could be different."

Why had he spared her father's life? Oh, because he worked for the police department and it always paid to have someone in there under his thumb. But he was seriously reconsidering it now.

"There was a time when I would have said he would never do such a thing."

It was a quiet confession, and she was even smiling. But he knew those words well; he had thought them plenty of times when he was young. But learning the business really beat that mentality away. And Thena didn't deserve to know that firsthand.

"Why don't you sit?" he suggested gently, giving both her hands a squeeze, "I'll finish dinner."

She pouted at him, and it was way (way) too cute. "But the onion isn't done. And I was doing quite well, all things considered."

He had to smile. She was proud of her progress, and it wasn't just the onion to be considered in that. He chuckled; he admired this part of Thena. This was the same woman who had been offered two options: marry him as a form of insurance, mutual destruction to keep her father in line and in business with them, or to let him kill her father, although it would leave her destitute with her father's bad name looming over her. And she had chosen the option that was arguably more daunting, and tougher.

And how could he not fall in love with a woman like that?

Thena stood, throwing her blanket off her legs herself, putting her hands on her hips. "And you told me you would show me what 'julienne' meant once I finished."

It was just slicing things lengthwise, on an angle to get technical. But he smiled up at his beautiful wife - reminded himself that she considered them married in name only - and stood with her. "Anything you want, sweetheart."

She pursed her lips at the familiar words. He knew she thought they were hollow and placating, but he really did mean them. If she ever wanted for anything while she was with him, all she had to do was ask.

"Hey."

She half turned, already partway down the three wide and curved stairs that separated the foyer and kitchen from the sitting area. Maybe this fancy architecture, artsy mansion was too much (like Thena said). "Hm?"

He walked to her, hands in his pockets. He leaned over slowly, and she didn't lean back and out of his reach. Eventually, his lips collided with her forehead, as intended.

When he looked at her again, her eyes fluttered a little bit, and he was pretty sure she was blushing. She really made it hard not to develop feelings for his own wife.

He retrieved the broom from the pantry and started sweeping up the glass.

Thena frowned, "Gil, I can-"

"Don't even think about it, hot stuff," he winked at her, just for the fun of it. She bristled. "Focus on getting that onion done by the time I'm finished. Then maybe I'll show you how to mandolin."

"The musical instrument?"

She really was terrible in the kitchen, and he couldn't have adored her more for it.

[mxtxfanatic]

Just saw someone make a post about how Hanguang-jun was “beefing” with a child (Jin Ling), and while the response I saw to it was fantastic—pointing out how Jin Ling was a spoiled brat who was constantly, knowingly putting others in danger and Lan Wangji served as one of the first adults in his life (the other being Wei Wuxian) who actually disciplined him for his unruly actions in order to teach him to be a better person—it made me think of something I never really took notice of: Jin Ling is afraid of other adults.

Now, obviously Jin Ling isn’t afraid of all adults. He’s unhesitant about bossing around the adult Jiang disciples when his uncle isn’t around. He treats “Mo Xuanyu” very disrespectfully until Wei Wuxian puts him in his place. He’s fine with yelling back at the adult rogue cultivators whose lives he’s endangered. But he reacts to Hanguang-jun as if Lan Wangji is going to kill him (or Fairy) for stepping out of line. Why? There are two reasons for this: 1) Jin Ling is afraid of adults that his uncles will not protect him from and 2) because he has not had any positive examples of care or discipline in his life, discipline, in his mind, carries an inherent threat of violence.

Let’s discuss point one. Outside of Lan Wangji, every adult listed above has been successfully suppressed by either Jiang Cheng or Jin Guangyao, Jin Ling’s uncles. The Jiang disciples are under Jiang Cheng’s control. The rogue cultivators are cowed by the threat of Jiang Cheng’s Zidian. Mo Xuanyu has been expelled by Jin Guangyao with the full weight of the Jin Clan behind him. So Jin Ling, the nephew who they allow to run wild, has nothing to fear by disrespecting them. However, Lan Wangji does not fall into this category. Lan Wangji is the younger brother of Jin Guangyao’s sworn brother, and as the uncle who does not step in to protect Jin Ling from violence, Jin Ling is well aware that Jin Guangyao would likely not side with him if he crossed Lan Wangji. At most, he would play peacemaker, as he does to discourage Jiang Cheng from reprimanding Jin Ling in his presence. This only works for individuals who care about reputation, though, and Lan Wangji is no such individual. That leaves Jiang Cheng as the only one who could potentially suppress Lan Wangji, but immediately upon confrontation, Jiang Cheng backs down from conflict and instead chooses to throw Jin Ling under the bus, probably for the first time in the child’s life. Neither of his powerful uncles will defend him against this adult, and this adult, himself, is unafraid to run afoul of Jin Ling. This, then, leads to the second point.

Jin Ling has only known violence as a form of discipline. It is notable that neither of Jin Ling’s uncles discipline him when he is in the wrong for his actions: Jin Guangyao coaxes Jin Ling while deflecting criticism while Jiang Cheng encourages Jin Ling’s bad behavior…except when directed at himself. Thus, let’s remove Jin Guangyao from this “discipline” conversation. What does Jin Ling know of Jiang Cheng’s discipline methods? Well, he whips first and asks questions later. He belittles Jin Ling with verbal abuse and resorts to physical violence against his nephew when under stress. He runs his sect with such an iron fist that his disciples are afraid to tell him things he does not like. Jin Ling has never known him to be anything but cruel and cold. And if we take into account how both the Jin and Jiang clans treat outsiders, we see that most situations of disagreement or discontent end in violence, with the Jiang and Jin as the ultimate victors. Therefore, with these stunning examples of “discipline” from his childhood guardians and their clans, it is no wonder that Jin Ling fears what being “disciplined” entails from the hands of an adult that neither of his uncles will fight for him against.

It is perfectly reasonable—in the most tragic of ways—that Hanguang-jun terrifies him at the beginning if the story. This is why the introduction of Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian into his life was imperative: Jin Ling got to learn that discipline—be it criticisms or reprimands—is not inherently violent and thus was made safe enough by his two unlikely mentors to listen to them in order to transform into the better person he is by the end of the novel.

[mothmanssweetsucculentass]

Clockwork Headcanons

Yknow, Clockwork is another OG/classic Creepypasta fandom character I never really touched all that much. I don’t think I ever had any issues with her as a character nor her ships or anything like that, she just wasn’t that interesting to me.

Also this should go without saying but just in case, I don’t endorse anything any of the OG creators have done in terms of bad shit. I heard clockwork’s creator was added to the list of “OG CRP creators that are POS” and. Yeah.

Expect canon typical dark topics beyond this point

Is physical the oldest human resident out of everyone, somewhere in her early 30s

Is the newest resident, however

When she was a little kid, she lost her eye in an archery accident at a summer camp

Usually wears an eyepatch, but does have a glass eye underneath

The older she got the more expressive she got with her fashion, especially steampunk related things. Has both a clock themed eye and a working watch face on her eyepatch

Wears a dark green coat with many pockets and belts that’s two sizes too big for her

Has her hair cut really short, chin length and a spiky scruffy mess

Has a military family, specifically her father and grandfather. Her father wanted a boy but got stuck with Nat and her sister instead

If he was still alive today he would’ve gotten what he wanted cause surprise, Nat’s sibling ended up transitioning when he was 20

Due to the harsh way Nat was raised (corporal punishment, like I’m talking her father believed in more than just spankings) she has a pretty high pain tolerance and an even higher disdain for authority and discipline

And because of that she’s also very brash and blunt. She’s not mean on purpose but she’ll call it how she sees it

The BIGGEST IDGAF Queen like holy shit Nat doesn’t care about anything anymore

It’s not that she doesn’t have motivations, but it takes A LOT to get any kind of reaction out of her

Nothing fazes her anymore, which is why most of the residents have stopped bothering in trying to make her tick

Has one of if not the smallest hair trigger among the others. She’s a stab first questions later kinda guy

All this impulsivity isn’t for nothing though, she’s specifically an impulsive chaotic mess because of how unfazed she is by shit

She’s constantly chasing every new high she can get her hands on just so she can feel something other than all her repressed trauma. Which she has a lot of

But I mean so does everyone else, she ain’t special

Because of how new she is, her disobedience has relatively gone unnoticed by the head honcho, but Clockwork will continue to keep living the way she is even if punishment is in store for her

The others swear up and down that she’s gotta be a masochist at this point

She’s not as durable as Nina or Jeff, but what she lacks in bulk she makes up for in whoop ass

No but seriously if you were to spar with her she’d knock you on your ass before you could blink

Yeah she’s pretty adept with bladed weapons and handguns, but her real strength is her bare hands

The one thing she’s grateful her father and grandfather taught her is self defense and combat

Unfortunately that too came to bite her in her ass

Spent a few years in juvie after beating the snot out of one kid within an inch of his life, all because the poor kid made fun of her.

It wasn’t even a good scathing insult either, it was barely anything, but Nat reacted way out of proportion

She brags to the others that she’s been to and made it through prison already. Even though she hasn’t. I doubt any of them fully believe her

Because of her problem child tendencies, her family disowned both her and her sibling before either turned 18

Her brother was able to get a steady foot back on life, but Nat? Well…

She’d pick up a lot of odd jobs to stay afloat. Most ended up being more on the illegal side

But hey, being hired muscle pays well enough, so for nearly a decade she continued this line of work

Until the boss of her boss’s boss pissed off the wrong guy. And let’s just say no one who had connections to that specific guy got to make it out alive

Nat was kidnapped, tortured, and forced to endure all kinds of inhumane shit before they dumped her body in the woods

By all accounts they swear up and down she died, or was basically on the way out when they dumped her

But a couple months after her and her colleagues were disposed of, talk of “the grunt with the eyepatch is back” began circulating in the crime world

She’s littered with a lot of scars now because of this, including the scars on her cheeks she’s constantly stitching up

Nat isn’t as hellbent on revenge as someone like Ann is, but she certainly revels in taking out anyone associated with her murder

Is friends/close with: Jane, Nina, Puppeteer, and Jeff

Has a tolerable relationship with/is neutral about: Eyeless Jack, Liu, Ann, Masky, Hoody, Sally, and Kagekao

Hates: BEN/Ben, Helen, Jason, and LJ

Doesn’t give two shits about Slenderman. She doesn’t hate it, she doesn’t love it, all she does is acknowledge the fact it’s what’s keeping her alive

Is in an on-again-off-again relationship with Jane. Buuuuuut because of her intense nonchalance, the two are constantly going on breaks. Nat swears she cares about Jane genuinely, but so far her actions have yet to match her words.

A lot of the others dislike her solely because of how new she is. That, and her abrasive personality

So it’s no wonder she gets along with Jeff pretty well

After adapting to her new “life” living alongside other monsters and criminals, one of the first things Nat did was go out and kill her father

Her grandfather had long since passed even before the family disowned her and her brother, but she knew for a fact her father was still kicking

Besides the whole raised military thing and physical abuse, Nat’s father was generally a piece of shit guy

The kind of guy that’s all smiles in public but behind closed doors is a menace to his family

I’m talking shitty father of the year award here

Luckily, Nat’s mother finally gained enough sense to divorce his ass after news of Nat’s “murder” went public. Because Nat was fully willing to kill her too if it meant leaving no witnesses

No one’s ever really asked her about how she feels about her past life, it’s a touchy subject for anyone living this life, but if she were to be approached about it, she wouldn’t be able to give you a straight answer on if she misses it

Like yeah, a lot of them miss their old lives and desperately want to go back. Jeff, Eyeless Jack, Ben, Sally, Tim, Jane, Liu. But Nat? She falls more in line with the likes of Helen and Brian. She’s just not willing to admit it yet.

[natcliachen]

NATALIA CHEN ( HAVANA ROSE LIU ) is a TWENTY-SIX year-old PERSONAL ASSISTANT in PARIS, FRANCE. They were brought under Richard’s care when they were only TEN years old. They are known as THE PERFECTIONIST because they are METICULOUS but also RIGID.

BASIC INFORMATION

Full Name: Natalia Chen

Nickname(s): She prefers Natalia. If she respects you, she can tolerate Talia. If you've called her Nat, she's plotted your murder.

Date of Birth: September 16, 1978

Age: 26, turning 27 in like 2 weeks

Occupation: Personal Assistant to fashion designer, Geneviève Brodeur

Current Residence: Paris, France

Hometown: Chicago, Illinois

Sexuality: Unlabeled

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Hair: Brown

Eyes: Green

Height: 5'5"

Notable Features: Very long, wavy hair that touches her waist. She's also got freckles but they're usually hidden beneath make-up.

PERSONALITY & BEHAVIOR:

Strengths: Organized, Reliable, Punctilious, Refined

Weaknesses: Prideful, Highly Critical, Judgmental, Reticent

Quirks: Walks very softly (has a habit of surprising people because they don't hear her approach), tends to stand with her hands clasped behind her back, intense eye contact

Vices: She's unfortunately picked up smoking since moving to Paris. Though she generally manages to avoid doing it unless her boss asks her to have one or she's very stressed. Drinks socially and sometimes just for fun when she's chilling home alone because Paris or whatever.

INTEREST & HOBBIES:

Interests: Greek mythology, Victorian antiques, Baroque art, fashion, culinary arts lowkey (she likes that you have to be very disciplined and precise)

Hobbies: Fruit carving, horseback riding, visiting museums, reading

Special Skills/Talents: Superb gift wrapper, can tie a cherry stem with her tongue, really good at needlework but specifically embroidery

MISCELLANEOUS

Pinterest

Playlists - What She's Listening To / Vibes

BECOMING A WARD

There's a lot of mystery surrounding how or why Natalia came into Richard's care. He left for one of his usual trips, gone for a few days or so, and simply came back with her. It's not the first time it's happened, and it's certainly not the first time he was tight-lipped about why someone was taken in. All Richard really shared with the others is that Natalia is an orphan. For the first few years Natalia was at Woodrow, a detective and former student of Richard's made occasional visits. There was an air of familiarity between Natalia and this visitor, suggesting a shared history. When questioned by the others about the detective's identity, Natalia would simply refer to her as a friend of her mother's.

LIFE AS A WARD

Natalia was non-verbal for the first few weeks upon arriving at Woodrow House. However, when she finally spoke, it was clear she wasn't the talkative type. She was largely unproblematic growing up — well-behaved, enjoyed quiet hobbies, and did well in school. It was once she became a teenager that she started showing more personality. While she was generally much of the same at her core, she more readily revealed her wit and distaste. (Read: embraced being kind of a bitch<3.) Natalia did well to position herself firmly as one of the competent and capable wards growing up when she noticed there was a distinction between them. She always knew where to be and what to do. You never had to worry about her. Her unwavering competence was both commendable and exasperating, especially to those who could never quite measure up — ahem, The Mischievous.

DYNAMIC WITH THE OTHER WARDS

For someone who likes to set themselves apart, she's not normally alone unless she wants to be. Was very close to The Scholar growing up and was always seen with them until they fell out. If she likes you, she'll find a reason to be in your space. Considering Natalia's inclination towards being perceived a certain way, she definitely tried to align herself more with wards that were less openly problematic. She doesn't like people who are messy and attention-seeking, like The Melodramatic. She's also not a fan of people who are insecure or unsuccessful by her standards. For this reason, she's The Misunderstood's #1 bully. <3 I imagine she was also drawn to the wards that were older and more responsible like The Guardian and The Protector. However, considering Natalia's age, she was probably grouped in with the younger wards most of the time for schooling and outings, which she lowkey hated. She always made the best of a bad situation however and used it as an opportunity to underscore just how capable she was, subsequently becoming something of a guide or example for the younger wards.

GENERAL VIBE

She's not unfriendly, she's just... particular. She has very little patience for things that are messy, whether it's behavior, your appearance or your space. Will be the first to call something 'tragic' in judgey ass tone. Bit of an elitist honestly. The better you carry yourself, the more willing she is to associate with you and be nice. Is also generally very terrible with vulnerability. She's not good at dealing with it, nor is she particularly known for displaying it.

WHAT WAS THEIR RELATIONSHIP WITH RICHARD LIKE?

Despite her reserved nature, Natalia shares a special warmth and closeness with Richard that she doesn’t easily extend to others. There's a softness to her when she's around him. His guidance and steadfast support played a significant role in shaping the goodness in her character growing up. She sees him as a mentor and despite herself, a father figure — though she'll never say it out loud.

AESTHETIC

Natalia takes great pride in the way she presents herself. She dresses very prim and proper. Lots of matching sets and dresses. Short heels. She loves light colored clothing and pastels. She's very rarely seen in casual clothing, and even then her most plain shirts are collared. She doesn't have a signature accessory per se but she's often seen wearing a pearl pendant necklace. When she was a child, she used to wear a cross necklace that Mrs. Tristan gave to her. She transitioned it out of her attire when she started to learn more about religion, but she still has the necklace. She normally wears her hair half up, half down, with a neat bow tying her hair together. Having naturally wavy hair, straighteners are her very best friend. She goes through a whole process of straightening her hair only to then curl it in delicate waves that she prefers. Always smells good. A Diptyque bitch through and through. She wears L'Ombre dans l'Eau.

EDUCATION

Natalia chose to attend a private school when it came time to pursue secondary education. However, she only attended it for two years before opting to receive schooling on Woodrow’s grounds again. She'll claim it was boring but in truth, she was just kind of homesick. She did go on to attend Richard's alma mater, Kingsbury College, and double majored in Art History and French.

EXTRACURRICULARS

Natalia took gymnastics, piano, French lessons and horseback riding growing up. She's always liked horses, and to learn how to ride and work with them was a dream come true. #horsegirl Not that it was an official extracurricular she took up, but she spent a lot of time observing and learning how to prepare food in the kitchen growing up. While she initially spent time in the kitchen to practice her French with Chef Pierre, she eventually starting helping with mise en place because it was fun and relaxing to her. Her knife skills go crazyyy.

THEIR LIFE NOW

After graduating, Natalia didn't have much in mind for a career, so she decided to help Richard with the Woodrow Foundation. She functioned as an administrative assistant for him for several years. While she didn't gravitate towards the volunteering and charity work, she thrived in the administrative side of the foundation. She would have honestly been content to do that for many years, enjoying the work and that she got to repay Richard in some way for changing her life. But of course, Natalia had other interests, and Richard was always one to encourage a person to explore their passions. He connected her with a rising fashion designer in Paris named Geneviève Brodeur, and she then left to intern for her. The internship was only meant to last half a year, with her learning the ins and outs of fashion design, but the designer liked Natalia so much that she was kept on as a personal assistant. She's been living in Paris since and hasn't had time to return to Woodrow. Note: Natalia quit her job to be able to attend Richard's funeral. Detailed in her first task. She's currently hiding the truth about her lack of employment from the other wards.

[firsttarotreader]

Don't remember if you did a reading about it already but did the bullying Pedro suffered in school still affects him until this day? in whatever area of his life, wether in his self-steem or relationships, is it something that still affect his behavior/attitudes? in case you haven't done a reading for this question and you do it, thank you 😊

Hiya! I asked how the bullying he went through as a teenager affects him in the present and did a couple pulls to answer it. The first one was The Tower, The Emperor and The Sun.

The Tower means the bullying deeply changed him. It made him fall apart, crumble, it was very destructive to him and in a very radical and sudden way. The Emperor, however, means it also helped him become who he is today, allowed him to take control of his life and his own destiny and develop his determination and discipline, and to organize his life and his goals. The Sun shows us he has clarity about it all, he understands things better, and he became someone who can be a Sun in other people’s lives, he brings positivity and enthusiasm and there’s this light in him that no one could ever extinguish.

The second pull was the 6 of Spears, The Hierophant reversed and The Moon. 6 of Spears means he might be feeling peaceful now, he went through a lot and he struggled so much in the past, but now he feels like he can relax and enjoy calmer waters. The Hierophant reversed is interesting because it shows how difficult it is for him to follow rules and he has a hard time with authorities (he has actually said it himself). He will probably not accept people telling him what to do (unless it’s a director? His boss? Lol), but he decided to live by his own rules in his own way and he doesn’t want to follow any traditions in his life. The Moon means he could have chosen to listen to his own intuition instead, for fear of being fooled or having things being hidden from him.

I then asked directly if the bullying still affects him in a negative way and the Major Arcana were The Wheel of Fortune, Death and The Fool.

The Wheel of Fortune represents the ups and downs in life and how everything changes and never stays the same. The bullying might have have been a change for the worse but it got better. Death points to him letting it die, because he’s changed and everything has changed and he’s been through radical changes, but he accepted them and he was ready for new beginnings. Speaking of new beginnings, The Fool is the start, the potential, and he knows he’s got plenty, he is ready and excited for the future and to begin new adventures.

The Minor Arcana were the Ace of Swords, 5 of Pentacles reversed and 4 of Swords reversed. Ace of Swords with The Wheel of Fortune also means he’s got clarity about what happened back then. He understands it all well now and he can be perfectly rational about it. You know when he said in that interview in 2014 those kids probably had a crush on him and that’s why they bullied him? That’s it. 5 of Pentacles reversed with Death points to him feeling like he went through a lot of hard times, he struggled financially and emotionally, but things have changed and he is better, his dog days are over. 4 of Swords reversed with The Fool makes me think his enthusiasm for life and to start new things and new journeys is what makes him heal from these bad times. That excitement takes him out of his isolation and his restlessness, gives him energy and reignites his passions. Remember it was his theatre classes that made him feel better about himself when he was in high school? That’s an echo of that.

So, honestly, from these cards, it was a hard time, and of course something like that doesn’t just go away, but he’s found ways to deal with it and create something positive out of it.

[cobra-creampuff]

Tagged by @menagerie-of-monsters to answer these questions for a character. I've done Eddie and Asher, so I'll do Ken for this one.

1. Is he named after anyone?

Not in universe or out!

2. When was the last time he cried?

He cries out of exhaustion/stress not infrequently. The last time he really cried cried though was when his dad died. Five or less years before the start of canon, exact timeline as yet undecided.

3. Does he have kids?

No, but if he could conceive of a life where he could raise them well he'd want one.

4. Does he use sarcasm?

He'd like to, but his job has way too much control over his day to day life and he can't without being disciplined for negatively impacting corporate image. (His canon is set in a near-future dystopia.)

5. What's the first thing he notices about people?

Girl, Ken is so stressed and overworked and self-defensively hyper-focused on only the most specific things that won't make him feel any type of way or force him to know stuff, he hardly notices anything about anyone. He notices criminals. He notices cameras and his bosses. And baby that's it.

6. What's his eye color?

Very dark brown, almost black.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

If he ever had time for recreation, Ken would prefer a bittersweet ending that takes a lot of work to get to.

8. Any special talents?

He used to be really good at soccer. He will be very good at so-called "financial terrorism". But as of Schrodinger's Right Now, the beginning of canon, Ken's only skill is doing his job.

9. Where was he born?

Santa Monica, California USA.

10. What are his hobbies?

If he ever had time for recreation... lmao. He'd probably like to get back into soccer.

11. Does he have any pets?

Yet another thing he doesn't have time for. Topher has suggested lizards or a snake to him (what Topher has) because they don't need to be fed every day, but Ken is just not a reptile lover. He really wants a dog, but he knows he couldn't take care of it.

12. What sports has he played?

Already mentioned this, but soccer. He did a little bit of basketball and volleyball too as a kid, but he took soccer all the way to college and even played in an amateur league for a few years before his career ended everything.

13. How tall is he?

5'10"

14. Favorite subject in school?

English! That's what he went to college for as well, and he uses those credentials in his day job as a copy editor (he's absolutely overqualified, but he can't get promoted because everyone knows the heroing is a time liability). But yeah, his first love was words.

15. Dream job?

He would love heroing, if only it was. you know. ethical, sustainable, based on his skills and on need rather than on image and profit. He's going to love villaining lol.

I tag @kyofsonder @marigoldispeculiar and @brazenlip.

[scribblingwhalegirl]

Middle Management at Doohickeys Inc.

My company's competitor ran an advertisement last week for some gadget or another, I can't remember,

but the point is it would charge in one hour

and run for fifty afterwards. Of course, my boss just had to have an answer to this thing immediately, so he sent an email at some unholy hour telling me that it was my team's job to work the problem.

I sat down in my dusty armchair about this and promptly forgot how to stand

as my skeptic's reflexes engaged (I picked them up from my father).

Now a good skeptic doesn't just jump to conclusions; baseless accusations are boring, after all. We can't assume they're lying just yet, but we can wonder what the catch is.

First I wondered how well it would actually do by hour fifty, and I didn't get very far on this one because by the time I had the thought, it was two in the morning and I can't do much good thinking that late at night.

The next morning, I questioned how long this thing would be able to keep up its fantastical schedule, as I reached for a charging cable for my phone and a caffeinated beverage for my sanity, both of which were aging faster than advertised. I set a reminder to check when my next week off was (I had one two months ago, but that's beside the point) and it hit me that my thoughts sounded like a character from a detective novel I used to love.

I've been trying to get some fresh air and be disciplined, so I walked to work instead of driving for the umpteenth day in a row, and I thought about the irony that my favourite artist's unbound, unhinged, uninhibited, slightly psychotic creative essence could only be enjoyed behind thin earcups, lest the peace be disturbed and my professional sharpness compromised. Dully, the thought crossed my mind that there must be something hidden inside that pesky device, something that has dreadful consequences.

By the time I got home from work and paid the bills, I was down to my last few questions: How is anyone going to afford the damn thing, and when are they going to use it?

And at what point, if ever, are we actually better off to put our money in?

Dont quote me on this one, but I think I might just now remember what it was that they were selling...

Christ, I really need to change departments.

[rayslittlekitten]

Cooling Off

“Toff Girl” (aka “Damsel” Universe) Masterlist

A/N: I am finally done with this! I've been working on this on and off for like two months. This is supposed to take place between Yes, Daddy and Damesl in Euphoria. The scorching summer gave me an idea and I was glad to add other elements I've been waiting to use into this. Iniitally I was going to make this a one off for The Little Sister universe but I felt this dynamic worked better for this one. Hope you enjoy! (Also, this was not beta'd so you may find some grammatical or spelling errors.)

Rating: E (18+ ONLY)

Word Count: ~4.5k

Plot: Trying to cool off turns up the heat instead.

Pairing: Raymond Smith x F! Reader

Contains: teasing, water gun play, sundress, bratting, chasing/primal play, dub-conish?, unprotected P in V, penetration with objects (i don't know if that needs to be a warning but including it anyways), creampie, choking, face slapping, degradation, manhandling, daddy kink, D/s dynamics, DD/lg elements (no age play), some aftercare, some praising

It's hot. Sweltering hot. And there's nothing on God's green earth that can provide sufficient relief except to hide from it. That is, if you're lucky to. Even then, sometimes it's not enough. It has hit record high temperatures and this type of weather was never intended for this part of the world.

It's so hot outside, Mickey decided to close the pub down for the day and let Ray work from home. There is no need for them to run around the city and if he's honest, he'd rather stay in the comfort of his air conditioned home anyways. Even the born and bred Texan can't get use to the heat.

And you? Never have to work a day in your life, but you choose to because even though your parents can afford to, you don't want to rely on them for financial support. Well, if there's a new shiny car you want, you know they'll shell out the money without question for their only child, but everyday living expenses, feeding yourself and putting a roof over your head, you want to be able to pay for it with your own hard earned money.  Also, the beauty of your job is, most days you can work from wherever you want. It's essentially a remote job and when you're not at the office, you usually work from your own flat or at a café, but today you're doing it in the comfort of your boyfriend's house. You had invited yourself over this morning when he casually mentioned that he's working from home today and he didn't have the heart or stomach to turn you away when you greeted him at the front door in a short slinky sundress with his favorite morning pastries fresh from the bakery.

Now, you're nearly finished with all your tasks so you're bored. You're just waiting for your boss to email you back for approvals and you know she can take forever to get back to you. You look over at Ray who is seated at the dining room table, working quietly. That man has not left his seat for the last five hours since this morning. Even though he's working from home, he's still dressed in his pressed jeans, button down shirt with his sleeves rolled to his elbos, waistcoat and a tie. You don't know how he does it. Your sundress doesn't even feel light enough for you to beat this heat. While you appreciate the central air Ray has in his meticulously designed house, the unprecedented 40 degrees temperature outside is affecting the performance of the air conditioning unit. At least you're not sticking to the leather couch. It's really a good thing you have nowhere to go.

You've got to admit though, you admire Ray's discipline and focus. You've tried to distract him all day to keep him on his toes - and to have some fun - and it's like he's got invisible blinders and earplugs on.  It first started small, like constant tapping your finger on the table or shaking your leg when you know he hates that.  You would make an obnoxious refreshing 'ahh' sound after every loud sip of water. You almost spit out your water once seeing the stern look Ray the gave you after you did it probably for the 50th time that day. Then it escalated to you grabbing his butt or running your fingers through his perfectly coiffed hair, flustering him for a moment. At some point you purposely dropped your pen in front of him and bent over to pick it up, but he seemed oblivious to it. You even tried to get his attention by blatantly rubbing yourself under your dress at one point while he was on a call with Mickey, but he avoided your gaze and was so concentrated on his computer screen. You're pretty sure he saw you in his peripheral vision though. For a second you might have had his attention, but he continued to work seemingly unaffected. You can now see why Mickey hired him.

With nothing else to do, you check the time and decide it's time for your lunch break.

"Ray, are you hungry?" you ask him, breaking the deafening silence in the room. You needed to hear something other than the occasional clicking and clacking from both his and your laptops.

Ray brings his wrist up to check the time.

"Very. I'm almost done with this. Should probably order takeaway. It's too bloody hot to... cook..."

Ray's sentence dies off as he looks over at you getting up from the couch and bringing your arms up above your head to give your back and shoulders and good stretch from sitting on the couch for so long, letting a moan slip out as your muscles loosen. He adjusts his glasses as his eyes wander down below your waist where the hem of your short sundress rises, stopping just at the top of your thighs, but he notices the undercurves of your ass peeking out just enough as you twist your waist from side to side. When you look over at him, Ray quickly turns his attention back to his notebook, scribbling nonsense to pretend he wasn't distracted at all.

"Yes, Daddy," you answer before letting out an exaggerated sigh.

He pauses his task, his pen in midair, to look up at you with wide eyes and look of warning. You coyly look back at him with the slightest smirk, amused by his reaction.

"What? I didn't mean anything by it," you tell him, but he's not convinced.

"It just rolled off my tongue," you shrug.

Ever since you and Ray started exploring power dynamics in your relationship, which you both enjoy very much, you like to push it a little further each time just to see where it goes. Since this is still new to you and Ray, no rules or expectations have been established yet. He is more experienced in this than you are so you're still figuring out what works for the both of you and what you want out of the experience. You typically don't call him Daddy outside of the bedroom or scene, but you're feeling playful right now.

As if on cue, the tip of Ray's tongue darts from between his pink lips, just enough to wet them before returning to its hiding place, with his gaze still on you.

"I'm going to grab some ice water. Do you want any?" You ask as you saunter over to the kitchen.

Ray hooks a finger into the collar of his shirt, tugging on it while clearing his throat.

"Uh, yeah, sure. I could use some," he answers and then starts loosening his tie and unbuttoning his waistcoat to shed the extra layer.

Ray continues to watch you when the back of your dress rises again as you reach up to grab two glasses from the top cabinet. Of course, tall man, tall shelves. You have to tiptoe and use the countertop as leverage, leaning against it and practically climbing on it, making your backside stick out a bit and allowing Ray to have a better view under your dress, but not enough to see everything. You hear Ray clearing his throat again. After successfully getting the cups, you fill each with ice and cold water from the dispenser.

You walk back to the living room, heading towards Ray and place the glass on a coaster next to him. No water rings on this oak table.

"Thank you," Ray says as he turns to look up at you. "Good girl."

His attempt to hide his smirk didn't go unnoticed. You, on the other hand, have no shame in showing how his praise affected you. You feel your cheeks getting warm - and not because of the weather - as you flash him a wide grin.

"Have you picked a place for lunch yet?" he asks after taking a gulp of his much needed ice water.

"No, not yet. What are you in the mood for?" You snake an arm around his shoulders and slide yourself onto his lap while balancing your own glass of ice water in your other hand.

Ray watches you take a sip of your water. You shriek when a drop of condensation hits the exposed skin at the top of your chest. You glance down and remove your arm from his shoulders to wipe off the water. You seize up for a moment when another droplet hits you but realize how much relief the cold water brought you. A lightbulb goes off in your head.

"Actually, I'll go pick us up some lunch, yeah?" you ask, looking back up at him, catching his eyes focused on where the water fell on you. You clear your throat and his eyes move up to meet yours.

"Uh, yeah, sure, whatever you want," Ray quickly says before shifting his attention back to his work. "I'd like to finish this, please. Off you go."

Ray gently pats your butt and you move off his lap.

"I'll be back in a splash."

You lay a quick peck on his cheek and leave your glass of water on the table before going to grab your purse. Ray notices the condensation of your glass pooling onto his pristine table and immediately wipes it down before placing a coaster under it. His eyes twitch for a moment as he looks over to call out to you but you're already out the door. You dread the heat outside, but it'll be all worth it.

***

Ray had finally taken a break. He didn't realize how stiff his muscles were until he actually got up from his seat, giving them a stretch and loosening them a bit before taking a stroll to the bathroom. All the water he’s been drinking is finally catching up to him. When he walks back to the dining and living room, he expected to find you as he thought he heard you come in, but you're nowhere to be found.

"Hm," he curiously hums. Maybe he misheard.

As he gets comfortable again to continue working, he notices a translucent neon blue plastic gun with an orange tip next to his laptop. He picks it up to inspect it, the clear liquid content sloshing around as he turns it over and shakes it. For a moment, he glances over at his laptop screen and does a double take when he sees something he did not type up in large bold letters:

"WANT LUNCH? FIND ME."

Ray adjusts his glasses and lets out a heavy sigh.

"Love, I don't have time for games right now," Ray shouts, not knowing if you are even within earshot of his voice.

When he gets no response, he just shakes his head and goes back to work, but is interrupted by his growling stomach. He ignores it, taking a sip of his water when he suddenly feels something wet and cold hit the back of his head. He immediately flinches and ducks, quickly turning around to find no one. After a quick scan, he puts the glass of water down on the coaster and cautiously looks again. Everything seems to be in place and not a soul in sight. Just then, Ray's phone rings, startling him for a second. He quickly checks his phone before turning his attention back over his shoulders.

"Yes, boss?"

While listening to Mickey, his eyes stay vigilant of his surroundings, darting around behind furniture and walls for any sign of you.

"Yes, I'll send that to you right now."

He quickly hangs up the call and slips his phone back into his pocket, turning his attention back to his laptop to send the information Mickey had requested. Just as he clicks on the "send" button, he feels another squirt hit his face. He instantly turns his head towards the direction where it came from and sees movement from behind one of the couches. He recognizes the pattern of your short dress peeking out from where you're crouching down. He wipes his face and glasses with his handkerchief and then grabs the water gun. He slowly and quietly rises from his seat with the gun pointed out in front of him, holding the plastic toy like a real one, except his finger is on the trigger because he's ready to squeeze at any given moment. There will be no warning.

After a few moments of absolute silence, you curiously poke your head up to look over the top of the couch and stiffen as soon as you make eye contact with Ray and see him heading towards you. You gasp when he starts moving quicker. You run like hell to the kitchen, using the island as a barrier. The two of you circle the island as he chases you, both trying to predict which direction each of you will go.

At some point he pauses to shoot you, but you were able to duck in time to avoid getting hit. When you pop back up and try to shoot him back, you shriek when you see him rounding the corner so you sprint off but not without getting hit in the back with water, making you squeal. You jump into the first room you see, into his study. You crouch down and hide behind one of the large accent chairs most further into the room.

You're expecting Ray to walk into the room any second as he was close behind you, but you don't hear any footsteps. In fact, it's too quiet. After a few seconds, you cautiously peek around to look towards the door, waiting for him to emerge, but nothing happens. Peeking out a little further, you carefully look around the room.

You slowly get up to your feet, trying not to make any noise. Once you've steadied yourself, you freeze when you suddenly feel something against the side of your neck and one of your arms, the one holding your own water gun, twisted behind your back. You try to wiggle and move away but his other hand swiftly comes down to grab your other arm, also pinning it behind you, rendering you helpless. You try to kick back but he pushes his body up against yours, trapping you between him and the back of the tall chair.

"Did you think you were going to outrun me?" Ray asks, holding your arms steady.

"Maybe," you huff out, still struggling to get out of his grip.

"The sun must have fried that pretty little head of yours when you went out there."

"Yeah. Maybe you should take a look at it for me."

You're not in the business of hurting Ray, but the adrenaline running through you has got you feeling a bit competitive and also bratty. You swing your head back, hoping you won't break his nose, but just enough to distract him so you can get loose. Expecting his face to collide with the back of your head, instead you quickly find yourself pushing up against the decorative wallpaper. Quick on his reflexes, Ray avoided your attempted head bash and pinned you against an adjacent wall, carefully to not hurt you, but limiting your movements even more.

"Did you seriously just try to knock me in the face?" he asks incredulously.

"I knew you would move out of the way," you lie. You really underestimated his skillset. You know his line of work, but you thought he was just a paper pusher and chauffeur and the guns were just for show. 

He’s a proper gangster. You’ve never seen him use a gun before, but you suppose that’s by design. Also, your own combat skills are very limited so you're not sure what you thought would happen.

You notice something pressing against your ass and you push back against it.

“Careful, love.” Ray warns, pushing back. “Finger’s on the trigger. Don’t want to get wet now, do you?”

"How do you know I'm not already?"

You usually don't really care for guns. You've witnessed toffs showing off their toys and shooting skills, particularly the men in your social circles. Flaunting their wealth won't do since you also come from money, so they need to find other ways to get your attention, but that doesn't do anything for you. Rich men with big guns? Big deal. You've seen too many of those. Unless the world is coming to an end and you need to hunt for your own meal, it's pointless. It's just an ego stroke for them. A gun measuring contest if you will. You're pretty sure they don't know how to defend themselves if it came down to a gunfight.

However, never having ever seen Ray in action with a gun before, you realize now that when he wields them, it gets your blood flowing. You've never been drawn to or attracted to guns, but there's just something about it when Ray handles them. He’s careful, precise and intentional with how he uses them.

He has nothing to prove. He utilizes it on a need-to basis. He knows it’s not something to flaunt and doesn’t need to whip it out to show everyone how big his cock is. He’s subtle and stealthy and that makes him that much sexier. You’re now both afraid and turned on by imagining him with a real one. That kind of power is like an aphrodisiac.

"The gun fight was supposed to cool us down but I guess it's doing the opposite, eh?" you say, pushing back again.

Ray looks down between the two of you to see you grinding back against the tip of his water gun. He curiously tilts his head to the side.

"This turns you on, doesn't it, love?" Ray asks into your ear, leaning in and putting his weight on you, causing you to groan.

"Maybe just a little," you admit.

"Just a lit'le? I can smell you," Ray growls. "You've been teasing me all day, love. Distracting me while I'm working. Being a naugh'y lit'le brat."

"Yet you've kept a straight face and focused the entire time," you respond. "Quite impressive really."

"Let's just say you'll never win a poker game against me ever," Ray adds.

“Well, now that I know—“

You get interrupted by Ray's phone when it rings. You feel Ray shifting, pinning both of your wrists with one large hand and tucking the gun into his belt before he reaches for his phone in his pocket.

"Yes, boss?"

You try to shimmy out of his hold as he's on the phone, but you have no luck. His long fingers are firmly gripped around your wrists and the weight of his hips are pinning you against the wall.

"Sure, boss. I'll take care of it as soon as my lunch break is over."

He hangs up and slips his phone back into his pocket and retrieves the gun, continuing where he left off. You feel your dress hiked up and there's a pause. You're wondering what's the hold up and you try to turn, but Ray pins you back against the wall. You flinch when you something running up and down your slit and let out a low moan when you feel it brush up against your clit.

"You're not wearing any knickers under that short dress and you went out in public that way?  You've been more than naughty. You've been a bad, bad girl." Ray states.

"And what are you gonna do about it?" you tease.

"You're playing a dangerous game, kitten."

A guttural noise sounding almost like a purr comes out of you when you feel more pressure against your core.

“What are you going to do? Shoot me?” you taunt.

“Don’t think I won’t.”

“Oh, love. You're just hangry," you add.

"Hangry?"

"Y'know, hungry and angry--"

"I know what it means!" Ray quickly spits out right before his stomach audibly rumbles.

"See. Hang--"

"There are other things that are a bit more pressing at the moment," he interrupts while pressing his crotch into your backside.

You bite your bottom lip and hum, pushing back.

"I know you get off on me manhandling you like this--"

"I know you also get off on manhandling me like this--"

"You somehow don't know when to stop pushing Daddy's buttons, do you?" Ray presses the tip of the gun against your opening.

"No, Daddy! I--" You gasp and moan when you feel the gun start penetrating you.

"What was that, kitten?"

You bite your lip and thrust back, trying to fuck the barrel of the gun. You moan when feeling it pushing in deeper.

"You needy slut. Look how desperate you are," Ray growls.

You have no response except to enjoy the feeling between your legs until it disappears. You whimper at the withdrawal, but suddenly you're pulled away from the wall and tossed onto one of the nearby couches. You quickly turn onto your back, but you're met with his gun in your face. Testing his reflexes, you fake a lunge at him and he presses the tip against your lips. You slowly open your mouth, feeling the plastic slip in deeper the more you open up.

Ray watches you as he starts undoing his belt and jeans. You start to move your mouth over the barrel, licking and gently sucking on it, bobbing your head up and down.

"You dir'y lit'le whore," he smirks. "My dir'y lit'le whore."

Ray pushes your legs apart with his knees and aligns himself with you before shoving himself into you. You moan around the gun and your eyes roll back. While holding himself up with one arm, Ray's hips pull back and slam back into you.

"God, you're so fucking wet. You really do get off on me manhandling you, don't you, slut?" He continues to slowly drag himself in and out of you.

You don't quite respond. You just continue orally pleasing the gun as you feel Ray torturing you.

"But it's not fair when you need to be taught a lesson."

Ray's free hand goes for your throat and he thrusts into you rhythmically, at a medium pace.

You moan around the gun again and arch up, feeling pressure on the sides of your neck and cervix. He is not wasting time as he's pumping in to you deep and hard.

His grip around your throat tightens and you start to feel yourself fading. Shortly after, you tap on his arm. He immediately loosens his grip, gently massages your neck with his fingers. He pulls the gun out of your mouth and tosses it aside.

"You alright, kitten?" he asks, stilling his hips to give you a few moments. He leans down closer to you to examine your neck. “Are you good to continue?”

"Yes," you nod.

"Yes, what?" His grip on your neck tightens again, but not as strong as it was before.

"Yes, Daddy," you answer and then Ray places a quick tender kiss on your forehead before slipping back inside you, continuing where he had left off.

This was not going to be a slow chase, but it doesn't need to be because he is hitting you in all the right places, both inside you, around your neck and most importantly, your brain and pain sensors. You've both learned degradation and pain gets your blood moving, but Ray always balances it out with praise and affection. They're like yin and yang.

"Not wearing your panties out in public in that short dress? You were desperate for attention, weren't you? And teasing me all fucking day. Is this what you wanted?” Ray goes off.

Not being able to speak in the moment, you simply flash him a smirk as he continues to pound into you relentlessly. You can feel your walls start to flutter when you feel Ray smack your face.

“Don’t you dare cum. You haven’t earned it. This is your punishment.”

“Yeah? And what if I do?” you push back.

With that, Ray releases your neck, pulls out of you instantly and then starts jerking himself over you.

“No! I’ll be good for the rest of the day,” you pout and whine.

“Too little too late, princess.” Ray continues to stroke himself, getting himself closer.

“Please, Daddy?” You show him your saddest puppy eyes as you reach down and gently rub yourself to relieve some of the pressure building, spreading your legs a bit more. “I’ll be a good little kitten for you. I promise.”

Ray’s hand slows down as he watches you. 

“I know you wanna cum inside my pussy and claim what’s yours, don’t you?” you continue to tease. 

“Who’s Daddy’s fucking slut?” Ray asks.

"I'm Daddy's fucking slut," you mewl.

“And who owns this cunt?” He follows up.

“You do,” you answer.

“That’s right, and don’t you ever forget that.” Ray shoves himself back inside you and you gasp, feeling yourself full again.

You run your hands over his chest and move up to his face, slipping your fingers coated in your own arousal into his mouth. He sucks and licks on them before grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. He drives himself into you over and over again, sprinting to the finish line. You’re close to your own and you’re not sure how much longer you could hold back.

“Cum for me, kitten!” Ray grunts.

You finally let go and feel Ray spurting inside of you as you milk him, grinding up to meet him. You both moan loudly as your orgasms take over.

After you both take a moment, Ray pulls out of you and takes the bottom of your dress to clean himself off before tucking himself back in and making himself presentable again.

“Ray! This dress is dry clean only!” You scold him.

“That’ll be a lesson for you,” Ray nods. “Besides, that’ll wash out.”

“I’m not so sure…” you say, examining the white stain that’s forming.

“Love…” Ray starts.

You look up at him as he reaches in to grip your chin. He moves your head left and right, touching and checking for any marks or injury. He then inspects your wrists, seeing some light bruising. He brings them up to his lips and kisses them.

“You alright?” he asks, looking straight into your eyes.

You nod. He continues to stare at you for a second before planting a kiss on your lips. Both of your growling stomachs interrupt the moment.

“Come on, love. This is cutting into my short lunch break. I’m going to have to work through it.” He offers you his hand and you take it. 

He pulls you off the couch and after you get to your feet, you fix your dress.

“The water gun was a fun clever idea but don’t you ever shoot that inside my house again, you understand?” Ray says as he leads you out of the room.

“Okay, fine!” you reply.

He swiftly swats your butt and you squeal.

“Yes, Daddy!” you correct yourself.

“That’s my girl.” He leans in and plants a kiss on your temple.

[jenomark]

Can i request an ideal type for all members? Like just your thoughts on what the members need please

Keep in mind that this is not truth. I'm not going to focus on the physical stuff, because physical preferences change all of the time. I'll just focus on what kind of person I think they need/want, or what I think they should gravitate towards more. 💚

Also, I answer these kinds of questions a lot, but my ideas do change. Keep that in mind, also.

Taeil: I think he would be so in love with someone whose personality is not unlike Haechan. Someone who ends up being the life of the party. Someone who cares about keeping other people happy and entertained. Someone with a larger than life personality to balance out his own. Someone to bring him out of his shell more (because we all know the real Taeil is a wild man, tbh). Someone extraverted and friendly. However, he'll need them to be serious when it's time to be serious. I also think he'll need someone that really understands his lifestyle, because I can't see him with someone not in some part of the entertainment industry.

Johnny: I think, when Johnny sees people, he wonders if that person will be a good marriage partner for him. There is something about him, to me, that suggests he's modeling relationships off of what he's experienced growing up. He'll need someone with a similar personality to him. It's not because he's vain, it's just that he wants things so badly to be fun and stress-free. So, with that said, their sense of humor has to be amazing. He is a leader type, but I think he'll switch to being a follower type when he finds his ideal type. He'll like it, too. I think he'll end up falling for someone not from his native country. Differences are interesting and cool to him.

Taeyong: Honestly, someone that can take care of him. He's not looking for a mother figure. He's not looking to be babied. I always get the feeling he just wants someone to take over for a while and tell him things will be okay. Someone empathetic. Judging by what he shows us, animal lovers are ideal. Don't laugh at how seriously he takes things sometimes. I think that would kill him. I always see him with someone mentally and emotionally strong. The opposite they are to him, the better. I can see him being interested in someone he works with, but I do think he's the type to get caught up in how people make him feel rather than how good they would truly be for him. I genuinely hope someone good and sweet finds him eventually!

Yuta: Someone who can deal with the intensity he dishes out. They have to be strong and capable, mentally and emotionally. They can't clash with his ideas or opinions, but they also can't back down. He'll be looking for someone who can keep up with him. I do think they would have to have a degree of goofiness to them, though. I don't think he's as serious as he can present himself to be. Someone charming. Someone that can hold an interesting conversation. Someone who makes him feel like home, if that makes sense. He needs to feel at ease in a relationship.

Kun: Someone focused and mature. He feels like someone who would be honored to find a partner just like himself. In a weird way, I think he would look at a reflection of himself and be turned on. However, I happen to agree with him on this one. Someone who enjoys what he enjoys would compliment him well. Someone affectionate and open to receiving his affection. Someone disciplined and wise beyond their years. Though, I do think they would have to differ from him somehow because he'll need someone to help him chill out. For this reason, I would probably place him with someone younger but mature.

Doyoung: Someone even more outgoing than he is. Extroversion. Someone he can learn from and follow. Someone that likes to cuddle and stay inside, but they can also go out and have fun. He's not picky at all. His restlessness makes him want everything and to experience everything at once, so his ideal type ends up looking like a million people squished into one. Personally, I would like to see him with someone mature. I don't want anyone that will be reckless with his soft heart. Someone he can sing with, I think. I feel that would be best for him, because I think it will create a tighter bond.

Ten: Since he knows people really well, he knows what is best for himself. I think he has a whole lot of qualities on a list that he wants. Someone artistic. Someone without an attitude. Someone that lets him live freely. They'll have to understand him, and they can't just pretend to understand him because he'll know right away if they don't. Someone gentle with him. Someone who sees his heart. Someone that feels like a soulmate to him. Someone who can live in the different world he's created for both of them. I think the person he goes for will be spiritual and creative and just everything that embodies Ten as a person.

Jaehyun: Someone pretty. That isn't necessarily a physical thing, because someone can be pretty on the inside, too. Someone who doesn't make him think or talk too much. He doesn't want drama. He doesn't want anything that is too hard. I do get the feeling that he likes femininity a whole lot. Someone who is private about their affairs but knows how to celebrate their own accomplishments. He'll need a best friend as well as a lover in that person. I see him with someone in the entertainment industry, but I think he'll always go for someone people least expect him to. Honestly, they might have to be a little weird, since his energy is a little offbeat.

WinWin: Ideally, I think he wants someone that excites him. Someone who acts one way in public and another way privately. Though observant, his attention sometimes isn't the best, so someone that thrills him would keep him interested. Whether or not that's good for him, only he knows. He likes giving support and likes knowing that they're pleased by that support. He has a lot of determination to do what other people do not want him to do, and I think that might translate into relationships. He'll probably go for someone opinionated and talkative. Someone that will let him spoil the shit out of them and treat them like royalty.

Jungwoo: His ideal type is someone just like him. For better or for worse, they'll have to know what he's like when they're with him. Someone clever is good. He likes mental games and likes to be kept on his toes. Someone that can teach him new things. I think he likes to be surprised. Outdo and outspeak him. On the flipside of all the chaos, he's deeply sensitive and probably needs someone who understands what it means when he's stressed. Someone patient, because he's not a person who opens up as easily. A good listener. Honestly, someone that isn't scared to call him out sometimes can't hurt.

Lucas: Someone who is fun enough for him to take his mind off of things. He has a lot of worries, so he'll need someone to take his worries and turn them into something positive. Someone dependable. Someone who has had shared experiences. Someone who understands everything he is not saying. For this, I definitely think he'll need someone in the entertainment industry. I think his ideal type reads a bit different from what he might need. There is a part of me that feels he has no idea what he really needs or wants. To me, he seems like someone who, right now, just wants to be loved.

Mark: Ambition and independence is a big theme. He needs a hard worker, first and foremost. They would have to give everything 110%. Next, he needs someone with similar values and morals. They, of course, don't have to see eye-to-eye with him about everything, because he's quite accepting, but he can't be with someone who doesn't believe in anything at all. Friendliness is good, but extraversion isn't needed. He needs someone devoted to him. Someone confident and sure of themselves. He'll need someone who can hang around when things get tough, which they will. I can't see him with someone too wild.

Xiaojun: Whether he wants it or not, ideally, someone who can put him in his place. He does need someone to guide him. He needs a boss, in a sense, but not someone too prideful to accept his love. He has a lot of love to give. I think he's addicted to people who are loud and crazy. He needs a big presence in a personality. He wants to always be stunned when this person walks into a room. Someone who likes to play and have fun. If they're too stuffy or serious, Xiaojun starts to change himself, and he doesn't want to do that. Whomever they are, I think his eyes will light up whenever he sees them.

Hendery: Someone sensitive. His ideal person is the same whether it's for a relationship or a friendship. He needs someone who thinks about the welfare of other people. Compassionate. Kind. Welcoming. Humor is a big need. If his person can't make a fool out of themselves, he's not likely to be interested. He wouldn't want them being self-deprecating, though. Someone who believes in and loves themselves is important. I think he wants someone to romance him rather than just him romancing them. The more I get to know him, the more I feel like he strives to be a really good husband for someone someday.

Renjun: I think he would fall so deeply in love with someone bubbly and cute. Someone a little extraverted, friendly, and probably a little annoying. Someone that makes him feel shy when he talks to them. Someone that can talk him down from a ledge. He has tendencies to be a little pessimistic, so someone optimistic is perfect for him. Whomever they are, I see them being small and sweet. A good listener. If they can do the things for him that he does for other people, he would be very thankful. For some reason, I see him wanting to date friends of his friends.

Jeno: I've always seen him with someone older. Not by too many years. I think, no matter what age, they would have to treat him as an equal. Ideally, his type would have the same interests that he does. He would love nothing more than to do an activity and for them to be truly happy about joining him. Someone caring. Someone kind. Someone that other people would call a nice person. He wouldn't want to be taken advantage of in any way. Therefore, someone with a fiery and self-serving personality won't work with him. He needs calmness and simpleness. He doesn't need your support, but he's touched if he has it.

Haechan: Someone who understands him. Don't change the things you don't like about him, but offer to help him grow. I say this a lot about him, but he definitely needs someone patient and compassionate. I think, if he had it his way, he would go for another singer/artist, but I don't think that's the best idea. I think he needs normalcy in a relationship, or it will have the tendency to make him depressed along the line. Someone very intelligent and clever, like, they have to be able to back up what they're talking about. Mental sparring turns him on. If you can play with him and not get hurt so easily, it's ideal.

Jaemin: Stability!!!! It's, like, his number one thing. He is self-sufficient all on his own, so if you don't add any stability to his life,there is no use for you. I think he looks at love in a very logical way. He just wants someone to share his life with. He wants what is his and he wants them to have what is theirs, but to also come together in a way that is mutually beneficial. Honesty is a must, because it's what he values in others. He'll probably need someone who isn't bossy or dominate. He's not someone who takes too kindly to being told what to do, to be honest. Someone wise. Someone intelligent. Someone low-maintenance.

YangYang: Someone that doesn't take themselves too seriously. Someone who makes him laugh a lot . I think, right now, his ideal type physically is very shallow and typical of someone his age (for the most part). The more important parts read like: "Someone my mom likes." or "Someone who makes me be a better person." I do think YangYang thinks a lot about what's on the inside of a person and how that affects him in the long run. He'll want someone kind and easygoing, someone that has good values and morals. Something also tells me he has this idea about love that can be very much like a fairytale. He can be very naive, so someone who knows what they're doing can only help serve him.

Shotaro: I think his ideal type list is miles long but he'll never admit exactly what is on it. His expectations are high, but realistic. He needs someone energetic, someone who wants the same things out of life that he does. Someone trustworthy. Someone intelligent and savvy about the industry. I kind of get the sense that he is picky about who he chooses to love, like, he knows exactly what he wants. I want for him to go for someone who looks tough on the outside but is really soft around the edges. I kind of want him to go for a dancer, but something tells me he stays away from all of that.

Sungchan: Someone he can help. Someone he can take care of, cherish, nurture, love for life. He has a really good and lovable personality, so I think he's going to attract exactly what he's looking for. He'll need someone bold, too, like, they have to match the fearless vibe he sometimes has going on. If they're bolder than him, it's a plus, because he sometimes feels like a coward. I can see them also being a little awkward, and I really think he's attracted to that awkward energy. He'll want his ideal type to make sense when other people look at them together. Someone chill and drama-free. I don't think he cares what kind of job they have or where they come from, just that they make him happy.

Chenle: When I think about it, his ideal type feels simple. He doesn't feel like someone who really needs much in life. The qualities he wants are basic things like: nice, fun, honest, loves him, doesn't like to argue too much etc. I think Chenle's main requirement is probably that the person loves and respects his family. I don't think he's too fussy. I can't see him with someone who likes being part of the spotlight. I think he needs a low key relationship where two people can flourish in each other's company. I do think he draws people to him that he might be so tolerant towards that he won't realize they're manipulating him. Either way, I think relationships are the furthest thing from his mind at the moment.

Jisung: Someone most likely older than him. It's not that he needs someone to lead him in life, just that he likes learning from people who have different experiences. I also kind of feel like he has a need to be taken seriously and seen as mature, so someone more experienced will do that for him. Someone who expresses their own emotions well and can see where his emotions are coming from. His ideal type would need to be best friends with him first. Building friendship is important to someone like him. If you pass the friendship vibe check, he's up to seeing where else it goes. I think he would be into someone artsy and cute, someone soft and kind. I wouldn't be surprised if he went and found himself a little weirdo.

[oraclekleo]

Byun Yongseop (E'LAST) - Ideal Partner Tarot Reading

Disclaimer:

All readings have purely entertainment nature

I don’t know any of the celebrities personally

Don’t base life decisions purely on tarot readings

I can never guarantee any of what’s said in the reading

Before requesting, read the pinned post and appropriate linked post

Tarot readings are my hobby - I’m not obligated to accept any of the requests nor to complete them, it’s my choice, not duty

Waiting time is long, even several months

If you can’t wait, please, seek other tarot reader

Reading Info:

Rating: 18+

Reading Type: Single - Couple

Requested: Yes - No

Requester: /

Deck: Mythic Goddess Tarot

Spread: Ideal Partner

Questions:

Body 

Heart 

Spirit 

Soul 

Time 

Place

Celebrity Info:

Full Name: Byun Yongseop

Stage Name: Rano

Group: E'LAST

DOB: 10.12.1998

Sun Sign: Sagittarius

Chinese Sign: Earth Tiger

Life Path Number: 4

Masterpost: E'LAST

Ko-fi - Voluntary Tip for Readings

Byun Yongseop

Rano (E’LAST)

Deck: Mythic Goddess

Spread: Ideal Partner

Body - 8 of Swords (Restriction)

Lol! I swear… Rano! Rano’s perfect match is a person of strict appearance, they strike fear and respect in the hearts of people around them, they have authority and know how to discipline anyone. Quite literally. Things like a whip, a riding crop or handcuffs can be regular parts of their outfit (so imagine Indiana Jones, Lady Godiva or a police officer, lol). They give the impression that they don’t take any excuses and will punish Rano for misbehaving.

Heart - 6 of Wands (Triumph)

Rano’s ideal partner has a victorious heart. They are likely confident and they have their life in their hands. They triumph over circumstances, people, they walk around like if they own their surroundings and they never bend their head. They are not the humble, modest or shy types. They are passionate about their job and they are proud of their achievements. They like to be in the spotlight and will steal it if necessary.

Spirit - 8 of Pentacles (Attainment)

Rano’s significant other is born professional, they keep learning, studying and improving their skills throughout their life. They are never satisfied, perfectionists ever seeking for mastery in their field. They are diligent, dedicated, resourceful and craftsmen. They have an eye for details and they are well-organised. It’s very unlikely for them to ever get bored or to spend time passively watching Netflix or YouTube. They prefer to constantly shape and polish their skills and develop their spirit.

Soul - VI The Lovers (Love)

While being the BOSS on the outside (and mostly throughout the inside, too), Rano’s special person is actually a deeply loving soul. They might not be the most romantic people but they care, they are nurturing, they put their loved ones a priority and always have their best interests in mind. They don’t believe in love at first sight, though. They know the route to love is a thorny one and one has to work hard and make difficult choices in order to have a successful relationship with another human being. They are ready to take on challenges and they believe that the power of their love can turn the devil into a saint.

Time - 10 of Wands (Burdens of Responsibility)

Rano might meet his ideal partner at the time when he’s weighted with one too many responsibilities and feels trapped in the cycle of work, seeing no way out. He might need to learn how to prioritise, how to better schedule his tasks and even how to drop some of them so he doesn’t break down from the pressure. And his significant other is the heart and soul professional, they will aid Rano in the time of need.

Place - 9 of Pentacles (Prosperity)

If you had read the previous readings with Rano, you could come to the conclusion that this beast can’t be tamed and shackled. Guess again. With his ideal partner, Rano will finally settle down, calm his wild self and find peace and joy at home. Rano has put his lover through a lot but the result will be worth it. Rano’s perfect match will create such a blissful, happy and comfortable home that Rano will refuse to ever leave this fine lair and the Rano Dragon will happily purr in his slayer’s arms like a kitten.

Zodiac Sign - /

This was fun! I have left the sign out this time. Start getting used to it. ���

Thank you for reading!

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Comment! 💬

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[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 20, part three(!)

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

This episode has so much crucially important stuff in it I had to write 3 posts about it! Part one is here, part two is here. 

Don't Start None, Won't Be None

Lan Wangji has never had a real fight with Wei Wuxian before--remember, in their rooftop fight Wei Wuxian never even drew his sword. And since this is going to be a verbal fight, Lan Wangji is going to lose, badly. He's an elegant and articulate speaker, but he's not quick with words, and he speaks directly and sincerely. Weaponized speech is not his area at all, so he's pretty much bringing a knife to a gunfight. A guqin to a flute fight. Whatever. He tries to turn it into a physical confrontation, twice, but Jiang Cheng holds him back.

This throwdown is 100% about religion and orthodoxy; something that is fundamental to both of these young men's lives. Lan Wangji has made it his mission to be as orthodox as possible, doing shit like volunteering to be beaten for drinking when he didn't choose to drink. He's constantly overwhelmed by emotion, and the Lan rules are a source of regulation and safety for him. His emotions around Wei Wuxian are among the most overwhelming he's got, possibly only second to his feelings about his mom.

Right now his feelings are extra overwhelming. 

It's complicated because his relationship with Wei Wuxian literally started off with him punishing Wei Wuxian for heterodoxy. All that time they spent together in the library? Was because Wei Wuxian talked--JUST talked--about using resentful energy for cultivation. Which is precisely the ability he's just shown them, along with a style of killing enemies that's borderline evil and definitely, DEFINITELY unsportsmanlike.

So this is not, Lan Wangji is lovingly worried about Wei Wuxian and Wei Wuxian is pushing him away to avoid an uncomfortable conversation. This is Lan Wangji freaking out because his entire system of belief is being challenged and he's in love with the person who's challenging it.  

Wei Wuxian has shown up to the party wearing an International Mr. Leather tee shirt with a enamel pin stuck to it that says "I get my kicks on route 666" and Lan Wangji just. cannot. deal.  

Never Start a Fight But Always Finish One

Wei Wuxian has a couple of options here. One is to accept, kindly, that he and his friend can't be friends any more because of religion. In this option, in order to preserve his friend's comfortable sense of being right, he would have to tacitly accept that he himself is bad in some way, and allow his friend to keep having his value system, while walking away from him.  

The other choice is to hit so hard that he makes his friend feel really, really bad, and potentially rocks him off of his comfortable foundation. In the short term, the friendship breaks, but if it forces him to actually question his value system, it might lay the groundwork for a new, more accepting friendship.  Anyone who is queer with an anti-queer-religious best friend is probably familiar with this dilemma.

Wei Wuxian chooses the second option, and goes all in from the first moment, calling Lan Wangji "Lan Er Gongzi" and then upgrading to "Hanguang Jun" and even bowing. If it's possible to bow sarcastically, that's what Wei Wuxian is doing. Then he meets his eyes and sticks his chin out, essentially saying "how do you like them apples?"

(more after the cut!)

Lan Wangji's feelings are probably hurt, but he's too busy being mad to show it, and he goes straight to grilling Wei Wuxian, asking him about the killing, the talismans, and giving up the sword, all while Jiang Cheng stands by and wonders what the fuck is happening. 

Lan Wangji is making a fundamental error here, which is he's speaking as if he's an authority instead of as a peer. Wei Wuxian has only ever accepted one authority in his entire life, and that was Jiang Fengmian. Jiang Cheng is the one who, for a change, is approaching as a worried friend, while Lan Wangji approaches as if he has the right to call Wei Wuxian to account.  

Wei Wuxian won't answer his questions and is getting in his face, provoking him in a very quiet and controlled way, and Lan Wangji responds by just being really aggressive. It's interesting to see Wei Wuxian completely mastering his emotions while Lan Wangji is completely....not.  Wei Wuxian pushes harder, saying he's being rude, saying he's being a bad friend.  Which doesn't make any difference to Lan Wanji, who keeps pressing for an answer while Jiang Cheng wonders what the fuck is happening.

Come to Gusu

Wei Wuxian says he already explained, that it's complicated, it will take time to explain, so then Lan Wangji makes the utterly dumbassed demand that Wei Wuxian return to Gusu with him to explain it. What, exactly, is his plan? Bring Wei Wuxian to Gusu and have Lan Xichen (at the very least) and probably also Lan Qiren help him to convince Wei Wuxian that resentful cultivation is bad? How is that likely to work out? Let's have our own flashback, to that classroom interaction that led to the punishment in the library.

Lan Qiren: How will you make sure the resentful energy will only listen to you and not harm others? [Note: he's not wrong, Wei Wuxian] Wei Wuxian: I haven't figured that out yet ["details," as OP's dad used to say] Lan Qiren: If you did, the cultivation world would not allow your existence [i.e. we, the Lan Clan of Gusu, will kill your ass]

Lan Wangji probably doesn't think he's threatening Wei Wuxian with death by inviting him to Gusu, but he kinda is, if Lan Qiren was serious back then.  Lan Wangji is so upset and fearful that he's not really thinking clearly at this point. He loves Wei Wuxian and he's certain that cultivating with resentful energy will destroy him. [Note: he's not wrong, Wei Wuxian]  But Wei Wuxian is beyond fear. He's already been destroyed once.

Wei Wuxian rips on Gusu and then says, in a super-provocative way, that he prefers Yunmeng, which prompts Lan Wangji to say "don't joke around" as angrily as possible. 

This part of the interaction always confuses me because...shouldn't he prefer Yunmeng? He's actually from there and lives there and belongs there and stuff? He's just saying "I think I'll go with my brother" yet WWX and LWJ both act like he said he'd rather go to Demon City.

Lan Wangji takes a big step forward and Jiang Cheng blocks him while Wei Wuxian continues to act unperturbed and puzzled while holding his demon flute out in between them. 

Finally, FINALLY, Wei Wuxian calls him Lan Zhan, and asks him a serious question: What do you really want. Lan Wangji calms down for a second--although he keeps leaning into Jiang Cheng's sword block--and gets to the point, which is that the unorthodox path is dangerous, and harmful to his temperament.  

Kill one turtle together and you think you're the boss of me

So, these dudes are talking about 2 different levels of unacceptable cultivation, in this episode and the next few. Netflix translates these as "wicked tricks" and "crafty tricks," which both sound absolutely ludicrous in English, so I'm going to use my own preferred terms, going forward.  

I think what they are calling "Wicked Tricks," which includes spirit snatching and feeding people to the murder turtle on purpose in order to harvest their resentment could be translated as Heresy--adhering to a forbidden belief or practice; standing in opposition to Orthodoxy.  

Edit: After rewatching Episode 35, in which Nie Huaisang explains why their whole blade thing doesn’t count as “wicked tricks,” I’ve changed my mind about what to call this. NHS says that “wicked tricks” specifically involve the use of humans & human spirits (killing, sacrificing, etc.). Which means Necromancy is probably the better term for this particular type of cultivation, although it is still (also) Heresy. 

"Crafty Tricks," which is using resentful energy to raise and control already-dead people (ghosts and zombies) as well as just generally using resentment for basic stuff like beating Jin Zixuan's ass, could be translated as Heterodoxy--deviating from the accepted belief or practice, but not to the point of complete opposition.

Wei Wuxian laughs while Lan Wangji tries to be convincing, but since Lan Wangji is just repeating what he's been taught, he's not making much headway. Instead of saying "there's no exception throughout history" he could have, instead, gone with his own actual observations, such as "you are acting like a sadistic prick" or "you seem amazingly miserable" or "you aren't hugging your brother, what the fuck is that about?" But no.

Wei Wuxian responds to the charge of heresy by saying nuh-uh, and explains his methods, sort of, while going back to calling him Lan Er Gongzi. Lan Er Gongzi responds by actually literally yelling at him, and saying he's not allowed to decide for himself about what he's doing, as if the words "allowed to" have ever meant a goddamn thing to Wei Wuxian.

Temperament

At this point Wei Wuxian is done. He goes and gets right up in Lan Wangji's face and sticks a metaphorical knife right in his heart, smiling as he does it. "How do others know my temperament?" he asks; "and why should it be their concern?" i.e. you are not in my heart. 

This makes Lan Wangji so mad he calls Wei Wuxian "Wei Wuxian" for possibly the only time in the show, and he also flashes a whole bunch of angry teeth. (Gifset here). In a callback to the JFM-YZY fight back in Lotus Pier before the war, Wei Wuxian just calmly says "Lan Wangji" back at him, and then tells him to go fuck himself.

Jiang Cheng still doesn't understand what the fuck is happening, but this is a sentiment he understands, so he also tells Lan Wangji to go fuck himself, reminding him that Wei Wuxian is Jiang clan property and it's not the Lans' place to discipline him. Adding "and I'm not going to discipline him any way, look how good he is at killing people!"

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji continue to stare into each others' eyes from a distance so close that it really should lead to making out, but they are both much too angry for that. 

Wei Wuxian is as cold as we ever see him, smiling as he silently confirms: I do not belong to you. Lan Wangji glares back, his anger maybe finally giving way, a little bit, to being hurt.

Finish Him!

Wen Chao picks this moment to wake up and crawl over to the trio, begging Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng to save his life, since he presumably knows it's pointless to beg Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian turns around and gives him the EXACT SAME dead-eyed smile he just gave Lan Wangji, and kicks him.

Then he tells Lan Wangji to please leave so he and his brother can finish torturing this dude to death, and caps it with an official Jiang Clan eye roll.  

Lan Wangji, poor bb, just throws in the towel, and turns and leaves, the anger finally starting to leave his face and be replaced with something else...chagrin, maybe? Or maybe just softer anger, for the moment. 

After he's out of sight Wei Wuxian turns and looks after him sadly, all of the cruelty and hardness gone from his expression, while Wen Chao says "forgive me,"  possibly voicing what Wei Wuxian is thinking.

Lan Wangji walks out the front gate, troubled, and hears Wen Chao scream. He stops and replays the most pointed part of the fight in his head - the part where Wei Wuxian asked him, "who do you think you are?" Lan Wangji went into the fight believing he was completely right and was entitled to judge Wei Wuxian, but he's come out of it with his certainty shaken. 

Family Time

The Yunmeng brothers go to the ancestral shrine in Lotus Pier even though the whole "reclaiming Lotus Pier" scene doesn't happen until Episode 24. So apparently they just kind of sneak into the the shrine, and then sneak back out. Or, you know, continuity error.  Anyway Wei Wuxian is nothing if not adept at sneaking around death-related places.

Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng bow and offer incense. It's nice that the Wens didn't fuck up everybody's name plaques when they were in control of the place...or the tassels, candles, etc. 

Wei Wuxian quietly tells Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Fengmian that he did what they asked--taking care of Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli--and they can rest now. Nosy parker Jiang Cheng wants to know what he's saying, but Wei Wuxian just changes the subject. 

They talk about going to Qinghe for the final combat of the Sunshot Campaign. Wei Wuxian says that's why he returned, which...dude, you can't even pretend you came back to be with your loved ones? Ouch. Jiang Cheng doesn't really react to that, but he's happy when Wei Wuxian says he wants to see Jiang Yanli. Wei Wuxian wants to know if she's ok and if she's mad at him, and Jiang Cheng says wait and see, because direct answers are not the Jiang Clan way.

Jiang Yanli is helping tend to the wounded, and we see her telling a particularly fussy wounded dude to suck it up and stop complaining. 

When Wei Wuxian shows up she totally stops paying attention to the wounded dude so that she can smile at Wei Wuxian. 

He looks back at her tearfully, briefly managing to smile but then just trying to hold it together. He has been to hell and back, and doing his very best to hide it, but when he sees the person who loves him most--the person who will NOT spend 20 minutes yelling at him as soon as they see him--he starts to crack open.

[littlemisspascal]

Death and an Angel part 8

Helmetless + Death!Din and Cupid F!Reader

Summary:  “You have become the only one in the universe who can claim to uniquely know him.”

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,002

Warnings: fluffy fluff, some plot, swearing, reunions, soft!Din, Kuiil thinks Cupid is a fool, Kuiil’s backstory from canon, surprisingly little angst (it shocked me too)

Author Note: I want to apologize to those on the tag list not getting notified. I have no idea why Tumblr isn’t cooperating and I feel horrible about it. I love each and every one of you who spares time to read this segment/series and I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season.

Links to Part 1 and Part 7 and Part 9

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

The next morning you find Kuiil outside welding together two pieces of metal at his workbench. IG-11 tends to the small herd of blurrg the Ugnaught keeps in a large pen, feeding the two-legged creatures their breakfast. Although you were initially wary, the former assassin droid has been nothing but kind to you, if not a little obsessive about checking the bandage on your head every few hours.

“IG was explicitly warned by Death what would happen if your health declined in his absence,” Kuiil had informed you the previous evening when your attempt to stop the droid’s incessant fretting failed.

“He’s such a worrywart,” you muttered as IG-11 scanned your temperature, heart skipping a beat as it always does when you think about Din’s protective nature. There’s something unbelievably attractive about him making threats when it came to your wellbeing.

“A worrywart who left his gunship in my yard.” Kuiil aimed a sharp look towards the entrance of his home, as if he could see the Razor Crest from this distance.

You snorted a laugh at him calling Arvala-7’s desert landscape a yard of all designations, only for the rest of his sentence to register a beat later, making your eyebrows rise to your hairline. “Wait, what? He seriously left the Crest here? Why would he do that?”

“The quicker his trip to Nevarro, the quicker he returns to your side,” was the response, accompanied with a shrewd look implying you were a fool for asking such a question.

Your Ugnaught host reminds you of a grandfather figure; a bit prickly and blunt at times, but ultimately kindhearted and selfless at his core, wanting only what’s best for those in his care. Between his insistence you keep resting in his bed and IG-11’s nurse programming, you no longer wonder why Din chose to leave you with them, thoroughly convinced you’re receiving better around-the-clock care than most people experience in medcenters.

Kuiil turns when you approach him, pushing his goggles back to the top of his cap as he clicks off the welding torch, eyes giving you a cursory once-over. You feel better than you had yesterday, both headache and dizziness gone, and he must sense that since his head dips in a firm nod, satisfied with what he sees.

“Good morning,” you greet, smiling.

“Morning,” he replies. His expression turns repentant, eyebrows lowering. “My apologies for waking you, but I could not let these repairs remain unfinished.”

“It’s okay.” You tilt your head up towards the sky, enjoying the warmth of the early sunshine after spending the entire previous day cooped inside his home. “I’m supposed to report back to headquarters later today, so I needed to be up anyways.”

Hearing the words out loud grounds the upcoming meeting in reality. It’s really happening. Hours from now, you're going to have to tell your bosses everything, now including your new title as Din’s soulmate. Maker, you can just imagine Hess staring you down with those beady, rat-like eyes of his, asking question after question about you and Din.

And if Hess was serious before on the comlink—and you highly doubt the bastard’s ever told a joke in his life—then there is also the very real prospect of Moff Gideon being there to take part in your interrogation.

“Are you alright?” Kuiil asks, noticing how pale you’ve become. Without waiting for an answer, he ushers you over to a nearby stool. You sit, mouth opening to reassure him you’re fine, only to be startled by the knowing glint in his eyes. “I recognize your anxious face from my years as an indentured servant. You fear punishment from your superiors.”

Your eyes widen, stomach suddenly feeling hollow. “You were a servant?”

“From my birth until my hundredth year, yes.” The nauseous feeling intensifies. You knew Ugnaughts typically lived up to two-hundred years, meaning Kuiil had lived half of his lifetime in servitude. “Earning my freedom did not occur without harsh discipline.”

You draw in a shaky breath at that. It feels wrong, being worried about meeting with your bosses when there are others, such as Kuiil, who have endured far worse horrors.

“Those with power think it comes from weapons and control over others through means of fear and violence,” he continues, returning the welding torch to its proper placement in his toolbox. “True power comes from the strength of one’s hope. It allows you to believe in a better future for yourself and so long as you cling to it, no enemy can break your spirit.”

His rumbling baritone washes over you, calming the worst of your worries. You press your thumb against your soulmate marking, a nervous habit that has developed since you first saw it yesterday. You’ve become addicted to the warmth the mark emanates as it reassures you you’re not hallucinating its appearance.

“I just keep thinking about what their reactions are going to be when I tell them about me and him being together,” you confess, feeling shy as you duck your chin to avoid eye contact.

“Are you embarrassed of Death being your soulmate?”

Your head snaps back up, shocked by his bluntness. “What? No. Din means everything to me.”

The words seem too loud against the quiet atmosphere of the planet. They reverberate off seemingly every surface—the desert rocks, the Razor Crest’s steel paneling and the metal roof on Kuiil’s home—echoing for miles in every direction. Despite knowing that isn’t truly possible, you are unable to stop yourself from wincing.

“You gave Death a name?” Kuiil’s bafflement is visible in the way his head tilts, looking at you in a way that is reminiscent of Omera’s puzzled expression back on Sorgan.

"I didn’t.” You shake your head, for some reason feeling the need to clarify, “He named himself. It’s just something for me to call him when we’re around mortals.”

“I have known Death many decades now,” he begins, sounding no less confused despite your explanation. “He’s quite...particular about the mortal traditions he chooses to adopt, such as appearing as a human male and piloting a gunship.”

“Yeah, I know how picky he can be,” you say slowly, not understanding what his point is.

“Not once has he ever felt compelled to use a mortal name because, in his opinion, names establish ties."

“What does that mean?”

“Without a name, he is but another stranger amongst trillions of beings, unrecognized and unmissed,” Kuiil explains, and you find yourself leaning forward, elbows on your knees. “By giving you a name to call him by, he has tied himself to you in a way he has not permitted anyone else. You have become the only one in the universe who can claim you uniquely know him.”

“Huh.” You let out a long exhale, suddenly aware of your heartbeat pounding deafeningly in your eardrums as it begins to sink in just how monumental the gift of Din’s name truly is. “Well how bout that.”

And the shrewd look from last night makes a reappearance, conveying once again how foolish he thinks you are.

“I have spoken.”

~~

People tend to forget a Cupid’s bow is first and foremost a weapon of defense. Comprised of wood from a Brylark tree, sinew from orbaks, and a thin layer of a mudhorn’s horn, it can be compared to Din’s armor in that it is virtually indestructible. A Cupid carries two types of arrows: one made from kyber crystal meant to lighten one’s emotions or, on rare occasions, induce lust, and the other one made from a kyber crystal coated in ichor, meant to inflict harm against enemies. Once a target is hit, the effects are instantaneous and the arrow vanishes in a burst of sparkling light, regenerating in your quiver seconds later.

You underwent rigorous training to learn how to become a master of archery. Your bow is bound to your Cupid abilities, capable of being summoned to your aid and dismissed with a mere thought. You were taught how to control your breathing, learning that the expanding and contracting of your chest cavity during a shot can ruin your aim. Missing a target is one of the worst mistakes a Cupid can commit, meaning you must make every single shot count.

All that to say, Cupids are fierce archers as much as they are dedicated matchmakers.

They are also dangerous when startled unexpectedly.

You’re in the middle of tidying up Kuiil’s tiny kitchen space, a task you had insisted upon after he’d served you a delicious lunch, humming to yourself quietly as you scrub at the dishes when hands wrap around your waist, pulling you backwards towards someone’s chest.

You react completely on instinct, teleporting out of their hold and reappearing on the other side of the room, bow ready with an ichor arrow aimed directly at the assailant. It is only when the meager light of the nearby lantern reflects off their beskar helmet do you realize who you’re facing.

Immediately you lower and dismiss your weapon before pressing a hand over your chest where your heart is fluttering like a trapped bird. “I’m so sorry, Din,” you tell him, limbs trembling as it sinks in just how close you were to shooting him. “Maker, you scared me and—and I thought I—well, I don’t know what I was thinking, just that I had to—���

In between blinks he appears in front of you, yanking his helmet off with such ferocity your words catch in your throat. You have only the slightest of seconds to glimpse the arousal darkening his brown eyes before he slips a hand behind your neck and crashes your lips together.

He kisses you as if you’re gravity and he’ll float away if he dares to spare a moment to breathe, sending a current of warmth surging through your body. You thought the mere touch of his hand had been life-altering, but it is a mere candle compared to the wildfire his lips spark. Your eyes fall shut as you kiss back with an equal amount of fervency, bringing him closer by wrapping your arms around his neck, grinning at the groan the action spurs from deep within his chest.

There is the heavy thud of his helmet striking the ground before he’s wrapping his hand around your waist, slotting a thigh between your legs to ensure every inch of your bodies are touching. Your cheeks rub against the scratchiness of his facial scruff, an invigorating burn you think you could easily become addicted to.

An embarrassingly high-pitched whine escapes your lips when he pulls away a minute later. He’s never looked more attractive, mouth swollen and hair disarrayed from your roaming fingers. His hands cup your face, and it occurs to you as he swipes his thumbs over your cheekbones he isn’t wearing his gloves.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, sounding slightly hoarser than usual and out of breath. His gaze roams your face, like he’s trying to re-familiarize himself with your features after the time spent apart. “Especially with your bow. When you pointed that arrow at me, there was this...fierceness in your eyes I’ve never seen before. Fuck, angel, you looked so gorgeous.”

“Seriously?” you say, raising an incredulous eyebrow, because of-kriffing-course he’d be the one being in the whole universe who is turned on by a weapon being pointed at him.

“Seriously.” He leans in, forehead pressing against yours, noses brushing. It’s hard to focus when he’s this close, like you’ve again entered that separate realm where it’s just you and him.

“Din, look,” you whisper, fighting the magnetic pull insisting you kiss him again long enough to show him your marked hand. “It’s real. I’m yours and you’re mine.”

The smile that stretches across his face when he sees it is nothing short of breathtaking.

“Angel,” he says, tilting your head so the words are spoken right against your lips. “I’ve wanted to hear you say those words ever since I gave you my name.”

Tag List: @leilei-draws​, @theocatkov​, @vintagesaph​, @stardust-and-starlight​, @adrieunor​, @remmyswritings​, @gallowsjoker​, @rhiannon-russo​, @randomness501​, @sylphene​, @softly-sad​, @maytheglitter​, @melobee​, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives​, @eleinemk​, @captain-jebi​, @aerynwrites​, @promiscuoussatan​, @stilllivindue2spite​, @coaaster​, @lin-djarin​, @becauseican2, @kay2304, @odelia-d32, @nicotinebirds

[morgana-ren]

45 and 60 for the shiggy ask list?

Nice. Fuckin' nice. Warnings for, of course: Masturbation, spanking, noncon, dubcon, implied nastiness, him being a fuckin’ degenerate, slut-shaming, and general incel-ish behavior.

Wet dreams are an obnoxious, awkward sort of burden to carry no matter how many hands you have. 

He’s perfectly content with a dreamless sleep, and he’s since long come to terms with the nightmares that plague his subconscious on the off nights. Shiftless, empty voids mired by shrill screams from a voice he can’t recognize; Visceral, grainy-red misery he can’t wade through, slogging endlessly onward toward nothing. Eternal, burdensome fog that sits thick in the air of his unconscious until he wakes. It was bothersome as a child, but it brings a strange comfort now. Like a heavy, weighted blanket that keeps him anchored to his goal.

Wet dreams on the other hand? Those bring nothing but problems. 

It sits awkwardly on his mind as his eyes flicker open, greeted with a dark ceiling and an even darker room, only the light of his monitor casting shadows around the walls. There’s a cramped pain in his crotch that shakes his mind back into consciousness, head of his cock pressing painfully against the jagged teeth of his zipper. A quick, half-awake glance at the clock reads the early morning hours- Too early. He’d retired prematurely the night before, thanks to unforeseen circumstances.

Whatever it was he was dreaming about, it slips quickly through his fingers as his brain ignites once more, but he has an inkling as to the culprit. 

Most times, he’d welcome an unsuspecting girl leaning so far over the tap that he gets a nice, long, free peek at the goods, but not when it’s you. He works with you, and that’s a line he’s not eager to cross. That complicates things, and as he counts it, life is complicated enough as it stands. Start lusting after your underlings and you’re inviting a litany of problems, and he doesn’t need any more of those. 

But he’s a man; A man with neglected needs, and you’re foolish enough rest your chest against the counter of his bar with your elbows pushing your tits together into nice, thick, creamy globes- right in front of him, no less- only inches from his nose and it takes every ounce of discipline in his degenerate mind to keep him from burying his face right between them.

It was easy to ignore for one, two, maybe three minutes, but that’s when things got a little rough. 

After that point, he wasn’t responsible for where his mind went, and that’s the precise moment when he realized he might’ve had a little too much to drink to be in this position.

He’d kicked off the stool and stalked off without another word to anyone, resolving to confine himself to the murky solitude of his room until his mind opted to behave. Punishing himself like a naughty dog caught drooling over someone else’s fat, juicy steak.  By the time he’d shut his door, his erection was already painful, throbbing and straining against his thigh, but he refused to reward this kind of behavior from his brain. 

‘She’s a teammate, dammit. Knock it off.’

As if scolding his libido has ever worked. 

He goes to bed without satisfying himself, but can’t help humping into his mattress as his drifting mind wanders further and further from control and further still from alert consciousness. Without his iron will there to curb his impulses, he was lulled into his lustful dreamsphere, mind swimming with visions of you; Less dressed, infinitely more slutty versions of you with knees rubbed raw, kiss-swollen lips and wrists shackled to his bed- not that there’s anywhere you’d rather be, that sly little voice tells him.  He doesn’t recall the specifics, but apparently his cock does. Skin pulled taught over his aching prick, tip flushed a furious shade of red, leaking viscous, pearlescent fluid that wets through the fibers of his jeans. It thrums, pulsing with each beat of his heart behind his ribs, demanding his attention. 

“Fuck- quickly then.” He seethes, more annoyed than aroused, loathing the thought of being jerked around by his own body. Yet he knows himself well enough to understand that if he doesn’t quell the urge, it will linger on in his mind until he deals with it, so it’s better to bite the bullet and swallow his pride lest it gluttonously feed into itself like a lustful ouroboros and become a problem. 

Fingers shove beneath the waistband of his jeans, the others hastily unbuttoning the silver teardrop link just beneath his navel. Fishing his cock out is the easy part; it’s everything that comes afterward that’s troublesome. 

He thinks of his basics. Of lewd hentai and girlish squeals, of wide, plush thighs and coy smiles. Sensual fingers beckoning him, throaty voices begging him to do as he will with their pliant bodies. Open mouths and pretty, ivory teeth, tremoring bodies and sweat and- He fucks them. He fucks them- no, he fucks his fist. He fucks his fist and fucks their gooey insides, fucks his fist and- it’s just not enough. He imagines their drooling mouths taking his cock, cooing praises- The climax builds, tension building to a terrible, tensing peak and then falling back down again into frustration. Teeth gritting in anger, muscles prickling and tightening in his forearm. 

It’s not doing it. He can’t cum. He gets close and it peters out back down into nothing but a slight twitch and low drawls of pleasure. No matter how he strokes, how tightly his fingers grip his shaft, he can’t make himself cum.

Fingers furled around his cock, he tries for longer than he really cares to admit. Hips stuttering up to meet his hand, broken gasps rapidly twisting into drawn out grunts of irritation. Boredom rapidly replacing any sense of incentive to continue touching himself. Offhanded strokes and daydreaming lead him no where.

He can’t cum. 

Until he thinks of your tits bulging through your shirt against his counter, your pretty smile as you flaunt it all in front of him. What you might look like pushing your slutty little body against him, mewling and begging for him to touch you because only his fat cock can satisfy you and you’ll do anything to have it. 

A throb against his palm. Pleasure veining through his body as he rolls his hips against his moist grip. Enough to draw a groan. 

She’s a teammate. Control yourself... 

After this. 

He thinks of your bouncing tits, bare and glistening, puckering underneath his touch as he rolls and twists a nipple between his fingers. Wide, bleary eyes and deceptive little kitten licks on the tip of his cock until he shoves you down and your silken throat strangles him to completion- his copious cum splashing across your open mouth, your fluttering eyelashes, marking you with his seed across your eager face. Nails digging into your waist, maneuvering you over the counter and kicking your legs apart, burying himself in your clenched cunt as you drool like a fucked out whore, begging your boss to stretch you wide. Wiggling your bare ass against him, teeth and bruises imbedding into your skin, crying for him to fuck you open as his cum still tacks across your cheeks like the nasty little slut you are-

He’s so close, close enough he can feel the heat in the crevasses of his fingers, but the knock on his door jars him, sending him careening back into reality even as his dick pulses in his hand. Muscles tense, frozen like a deer in headlights. His mind still drowned in desire, the end so close he can taste it. 

No response. Another knock. This one harder. 

The bar wasn’t built for privacy in mind, and his room is held together with plywood and ill-fitting hinges. Most people are smart enough to leave him alone and not touch his door in general, but not you, huh? Your second hollow knock budges the latch and the door creaks open in one fatal moment. 

He’s met with your shocked face and widened eyes, both glowing eerily pallid in the light of his computer monitor. Your attention focuses, first on his face, shifting to his swollen cock clutched between his slender fingers, and after another moment, back to his face. 

“Shigaraki-” is all you can manage, weak and pathetic, hands raising in defense to shield your vision and hide the painful embarrassment written plainly across your face. “-Sorry- Sorry- Fuck, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean-” Red handed is one word for it, but so is opportunistic.

“Get in here and shut the door.”

You don’t think twice about your boss’s command, following his orders without question out of impulse despite the awkwardness. Word vomit spills from your lips, trying to justify and separate yourself from the situation in the same breath. 

“I’m sorry- sorry! You seemed mad when you left and I didn’t want to leave it- I thought you were mad at me- I didn’t want-” “To disappoint me?” 

“Y-yeah- I thought-” Your eyes drift toward the ceiling, trying to keep away from the proverbial elephant in the room- the pale cock cradled in his hand. “I’m sorry! I just thought-” 

“What did you think?” 

“I thought I said something that made you mad or something! You kept looking at me like-” Your voice cracks, perhaps in recognition, but you ignore that too. “Like you were disgusted-” 

His control shatters with the vulnerability on your face, lust tidalwaves over reason, burying any semblance of order he had beneath a landfill of repression. All he wants now is to see you the way he does in his head: Begging and crying and screaming his name. 

This will have consequences, but he doesn’t really fucking care right now. 

He lurches forward, four fingers swirling in the fabric of your shirt as he jerks you forward. “I was disgusted.” You fall across him with a startled shriek, awkwardly splayed across his legs and the upper portion of his bed. He’s quick to readjust you, dragging you back into his lap with his naked, palpitating cock pressed flush against your chest separated only by a thin layer of fabric. One hand threads through your hair, stroking your scalp with his nails before clutching down. “Flashing your slutty tits in my face all night.” Trying to scrounge away from him is fruitless, clawing at his bare mattress with your nails and trying to kick your way out of his grip, but he puts a quick stop to it. A few harsh tugs on your hair and you settle down like a good girl, whimpering and shaking in a way arouses him more than he thought possible at the moment.  “I didn’t- I didn’t mean to-”  “I didn’t mean to-” He mocks, raising his voice in a cruel mimicry of yours. “Shut the hell up. You know exactly what you’re doing. You’re writing checks you can’t cash, and someone needs to teach you a lesson.”  His hand catches on the back of your thigh, slowly snaking upward until- to your utter mortification- he pushes the hem of your skirt up to your waist, jiggling at the fat of your ass with his palm. Your miserable bleating does little to deter him from fingering at the strap of your thong, admiring the lace before pulling the band back with the crook of his finger and letting the elastic snap against your skin.

“Tomura!-”  “Be quiet. You can speak when I tell you that you can speak. In fact-” He pulls your underwear down to your taut thighs with a harsh yank. “-you’re going to count it out for me, and when I’m done, you’re going to thank me, aren’t you?” 

The little fire of defiance dies in your belly is swiftly snuffed out when, through the corner of your eye, you catch him leering at your exposed ass, face dusted a ruddy pink and pupils dilated in a way that leaves him looking more monster than man. 

“You’re going to count it for me, yeah? Understand?”  “Count out what?” 

You stammer and trip over your words, wide eyes bleary, and God he loves it when you play dumb. You’re sharp as a tack and swift as a whip, and there’s not a doubt in his mind that you know exactly where this is going, but you’ll play the bimbo because you’re holding out hope that taking advantage of you is too far, that even villains have a sense of comradery and he’s your boss and has a sense of shame.  All incorrect assumptions. 

He brings his hand up, only to immediately plumb it back down again on the curve of your ass with the resounding smack of flesh on flesh. The skin ripples as he makes contact, and you yowl something fierce as the pain blooms through your bottom- half startled, half humiliated.  “One-” The fingers looped through your hair clench and remind you of what exactly that he expects, words hanging thick as he expects acquiescence and your full participation. He’s not known for his patience.  “O-one.” 

“Good girl.” 

His hand raises again and your eyes clench shut in anticipation of the blow. It doesn’t help.  “Two.” 

“Two-!“

Three- four- five- His hand lands firmly on your backside, each one forcing you to lurch forward. It’s degrading and sick, stomach twisting against his thighs as you desperately try to keep your breathing even despite your constricted belly. You don’t dare to attack him back- you’ve seen what he does to people who piss him off. You didn’t think he was capable of this kind of treatment- not to his friends and allies- but apparently he’s full of malevolent surprises and you’re learning that the hard way.

Six- Seven- Eight- Eyes begin tearing up around the seventh smack, trying to worm away from him only to be firmly held in place. It only stung at first, but repeated abuse to the same area has left it sore and tender because his spanks are far too rough to be playful. Strangled croaks of the numbers he expects from you turn into urgent cries, sobbing openly into his lap as he occasionally rolls his erection against your knee-squished tits.

“Nine.” 

“N-n-nine-” You are sniveling like a baby by this point. It hurts, it hurts, and you want- no- need him to stop. You’re not sure if it’s the utter humiliation or the localized and repeated pain, but nausea is curling something fierce in your gut, tickling at your esophagus with every thwack of his palm against you.

“Ten.”

There’s no sweet little precursor this time. His hand comes down with unprecedented force- too much- hitting the exact same spot for the tenth time but with enough cruelty behind it to break what little dignity you’d had left. You wail openly at the pain, blubbering and pleading for him to stop, please, you can’t take it anymore, you can’t-

He shushes you, deceptively tender as he rubs his fingers across the marred skin, early onset bruises blooming in the abstract shape of his hand. It pleases him to see it, knows it’ll please him even more every time he watches you struggle to sit because you’ve got your leader’s handprint practically engraved on the fat of your ass for the foreseeable future.

“You did well.” Untangling his fingers from your matted hair, he pats at your head in a condescending matter, soothing you in a way that isn’t entirely genuine. That becomes painfully obvious when he grabs your tear-soaked chin and arches your face to meet his in an unnatural angle, displeasure evident across his face.

“Except you forgot ten.”

You expect him to hit you again, but he doesn’t. The hand patting at your marred skin slinks down between your thighs, teasing between your folds and circling your entrance. The hiccups and bubbling sobs cease long enough for you to squeak at his invasive probing, wiggling your hips as he slips a finger inside your damp heat. He oscillates it, first to the knuckle, but then down as far as he can, pumping in and out of you a few times before adding a second finger to the mix. 

This shouldn’t feel good. The searing tingle and clenching between your thighs is entirely unwelcome as his wandering fingers curl upward towards you bellybutton and pad at the spongy, raised flesh nestled deep in your cunt. The juxtaposition of the hideous ache from where he’d spanked you ruthlessly and the pleasure that crests as he finger-fucks you is almost too much, bordering on maddening stimulation as he adds this thumb to the mix, drawing teasing circles around the little bud.

“A-ahha-Tom-Tomura!” 

“What is it, slut? Use your words-” He drums his fingers into you harder, pressing the tip of his thumb down harder on your clit as he swirls it counter-clockwise. “Are you getting wet for me? Starting to enjoy this now that your punishment is over?” 

After a few more moments, he drawls out his fingers, putting emphasis on the obscene squelching. He withdraws his hand eventually, inspecting the gossamer slick that webs his fingers, scissoring it back and forth before dropping them in front of your face. 

“That’s all you, you needy little whore. All your whinging and crying but your sloppy cunt is aching for me, isn’t it?” 

Wiping your wetness on the purpling bruises, he promptly pushes you off of his lap and lets your body roll onto the floor, standing to loom above you with his cock bobbing just above the waist of his bunched jeans. In one swift movement, he’s got you by the hair again, pulling you up onto your knees just in front of him.

Your whimpering garners no sympathy from him, thighs worming and quim still clenching even as you fear for what’s about to happen. He’s already pushed past the limit- what’s done is done. You were a good ally, but you’re a better whore. Who’s to say you can’t be both? 

He’s allowed to have his cake and feast on it too.

“I’ll give you what you want, but you’re going to earn it first.” Jerking your head back by your sore, throbbing scalp, he taps his leaking erection on the swell of your lower lip, smearing his pre-cum across your mouth. “After you’ve earned it, that is. Now show me that you’re thankful.” 

[regretsofalifeandlovelost]

Shit

I am sitting in my psychologists office discussing the falling out between my partner and I. We start to work through the layers. As she asks questions and I start to think about the answers a picture is starting to take shape. Our relationship started as a reaction to my sister finding a partner, not because I actually had feelings for them. I was alone and feeling lonely after being best friends with my sister and doing everything together. I wanted company and despite us being incompatible it was about not being alone more than finding a partner. The rough arguments, toxic hatred and disrespect that we had through the first 8 or so years was a manifestation of that. Rather than having the confidence to break up and find a partner that I was in love with I settled and tricked myself into thinking that I was in love. We then had kids and it really just became a routine. There was no sex after our second child and generally I despised him although needed him to provide and support us as a family. I was trapped because he knew all of the financial affairs, he had a much larger income than I did and that made me resent him even further. My transition from being massively overweight to slim and feeling better about myself has made him feel under threat and has exposed more weaknesses in our relationship. Despite trying to recover the sexual intimacy and largely having some success it was still not a loving deep connected relationship. It seemed from the conversation sessions we were having that I had pivoted completely the opposite direction to feel attractive, connected to someone anyone because I had such a large over decade long gap in my life. The self loathing, lack of self satisfaction and feeling dirty, hating my body was all part of this bigger problem space of self hate and loathing those in my life. This underlying issue was the root of so much pain and suffering. I had a codependency with our daughter where I wouldn't discipline her because it would stress out my partner who wanted to have well behaved kids. It was a power and control vindictive element in my personality that I let run. Over several months of weekly sessions while I lived away it occurred to me that this also became a key point for the jealousy that I had for my sister. She had a solid relationship was going places in her life, had all the love and affection she needed and I had settled into a lifestyle that I never wanted and hated myself for it. Me trying to upset their relationship was me trying to turn the knife in my sister for making better choices than I did. The problem with all of these therapy sessions is that it had made me think so much more about the sex and what actually made me happy in life. Apart from the kids there was no happiness in my life. I had turned to drinking excessively to try and numb out the pain. I had eaten all the food in china before I lost the weight to try and eat my way to happiness. It turned out that I had so much pain and hate in me that I was unable to function logically.

Driving to work one morning after dropping the kids at school I pulled over slid my chair back in the car, put my leg up and finger fucked myself. It was the first time I had ever done this in a car or otherwise. I was going deep and ended up squirting all over my scrubs. I was so aroused that I had to stop again further up the road and do it again. I was thinking about a hot circumcised cock was fucking me and perfectly hitting my a-spot, something that I didn't know existed even from chatter until my sisters husband showed it to me. I arrived at work smelling like my vagina and the naughty side in me relished it. I was wondering who could smell it, was it a turn on for them, did they wonder who it was, was it kinky or dirty or both. With my mind in sex only mind and not really able to concentrate on work it must have been obvious. My boss asked me if I was okay, I told her that family problems had my mind in other places. She gave me the afternoon off. I sped home to find an empty house, my sister and her husband not home. I undressed and walked around the house naked, I had grown fond of feeling the air against my body particularly my labia. The little bit that hung out would feel the cool breeze like my nipples. I vacuumed and cleaned the house, I did the pool and all the house chores and then feeling horny took my sisters sybian to my room with her hand cuffs and tied myself to the machine. I eased myself onto it and turned it up to max. It was overpowering at first before becoming extremely enjoyable and then too much and then explosive orgasms. Being tied into position the only way that I could get off was to stand which was almost impossible as my legs had become jelly.

Hidden away in the walk-in wardrobe here I was in a rolling cycle of orgasms with all the associated noise. I had lost track of time and was surprised when my sister opened the door, she said she had been home for over an hour and was worried that something was wrong and it wasn't just self satisfaction. Then she was pissed that I was using her machine. She told me the kids would be home any moment, I panicked and fell off as I couldn't get traction on the wet polished floor boards with the cuffs on and the sybian running at full speed. As I regained my composure I realised that I had made a complete mess, I had been tranced by the orgasms and sexual enjoyment mind focus. I had been on the machine for almost two hours and as I walked to the bathroom realised that I my pussy was rather sore. Emerging after a shower to the kitchen my sister said that I can have the sybian. She was given it but had never used it. She was rather livid that I had taken it without asking and then asked if I had used any of her other toys. I hadn't. I then made a bitchy comment about how she shouldn't need toys with a husband that can fuck as well as he can. She said life choices and they enhance not replace a good partner. That stung hard and deep in my emotionally wrecked psyche.

We started drinking..

[dashingdcboys]

Batman’s cape

We all heard of Bruce using his cape to shelter his robins from danger, like glass shattering and bullets, so it’s only fact that it’ll become a habit eventually.

Dick:

The boy was the first to ever work alongside batman, and with his hyperactive tendencies he was the first to get up close and personal with the cape. He probably saw it as a glorified climbing wall when he was just a child.

Bruce, while on a stake-out with robin, suddenly feeling small hands grabbing fistful of the cape’s material as Dick climbs onto his shoulders. “I told you I couldn’t see anything from my post! Your pointy ears were in the way :((”

Bruce didn’t mind, of course he didn’t. It was Richard and that boy’s innately adorable, even though the boy’s pixie boots swinging in front of his face were blocking his view. 

Lastly, given Dick was wearing such short pants, Bruce would always make an effort to shelter the boy from harsh weather conditions during the winter. He still does this when Dick becomes nightwing, out of habit

Jason:

Jason used to be skeptical of the cape, thought it was just a big hindrance - tha Bruce was only using it for theatrics and that he’d be much better off without it. 

“Dick doesn’t wear a cape and he can blend into the shadows, shake off broken glass and bullets just as easily!”

That is until, the day they were saving a bunch of citizens from a housefire. They got trapped inside, Jason had given his oxygen mask to a civillian who was struggling to breathe, almost suffocating himself.

Bruce wrapped Jason in his cape, making an airpocket of oxygen which the fire can’t combust, until help arrives.

“Maybe that cape isn’t as stupid as I thought.” he mumbles in a muffled voice within his father’s cape.

Bruce would also do this when Jason’s having an outburst as a “time-out”

Tim:

The third robin fanboyed so hard when he first saw the cape and cowl. You think Dick saw it cool? This smoll boy in bright yellow, red and green had his eyes sparkling at the sight of it in person.

Immediately, he started coming up with theories of its material, and Bruce patiently answered every single question he had - even though Tim nailed the majority of the answers with his hypothesis. 

“Let me guess, kevlar? Interwoven to stop bullets from less than a meter away? Synthetic - so that it’s lighter than it seems. But also . . huh, kind of soft material on the inside. Why? It’s an outer accessory - it doesn’t even come into direct contact with your skin.”

Bruce, having alfred make that upgrade so that Dick and Jay could have snuggled up to him under his cape when they got cold : “no reason.”

The only thing Tim didn’t guess was its final and most important function: a parental tool.

One day Tim took his laptop on a stake-out to test out a new program he had developed, except, it had started to rain. So, naturally, Bruce sheltered the boy with his cape and they both grinned as the lighting of the entire building went out across the street, causing the goons inside to enter a panicked frenzy.

“rock paper scissors for who gets to crash through the window first?”

“you go, robin, you’ve earned it.”

Steph:

She was just happy to make it onto the team, honestly, and was very determined to prove her worth to Batman. Her overly talkative nature reminded Bruce of Dick, her short temper of Jason and her aberrant excitement of Tim. Thus the cape had multiple uses with this robin, but she wanted none of it.

She was surprisingly disciplined on the field, clearly acting overly serious to try reach this imaginary standard she set. 

“Don’t follow me until I give you the signal.”

“Yes sir.”

“I’m your mentor, not your boss.”

“Yes, Sensei.”

“* sigh *”

So in order for her to relax, unwind a bit, he noticed how she always had a granola bar in her utility belt, and did the same. He could hear Steph’s stomach growl and reached for his utility belt under his cape.

“Can’t find what you’re looking for? We used quite a few smoke bombs in the previous attack huh? Maybe I have some spare -”

Bruce, pulling out a granola bar: “Sorry, it got crushed a little, I’m pretty sure it’s just dust in the packet now but here, stop taking up space for snacks in your own belt. Mine has much more space.” 

“:00 !!”

“How do you managed to not crush these delicate breakfast bars anyway?”

Steph, smirking: “It’s a delicate art . .”

“Huh, might use it for precision training.”

He also shelters Steph from the wind when she needs to take off her hairban and arrange her hair.

Dami:

He ses the cape and cowl as a prize to be earned - his birth right which he must work hard to obtain. The boy already had his own dark cape, with a hood, which suffices to keep him warm and hidden throughout the night. But Bruce’s is much . . bigger. He’s also tiny. I think you’ve already guessed where I’m going with this.

“They’re only expecting one of us, I say we practice maneuver eight.” The boy suggested with all seriousness.

“Good idea, robin. Get into position.”

Bruce stands alone in the middle of a giant museum which the riddler is keeping hostage until the commissioner brings the ransom money, goons pointing their guns at him from every nick and corner as the riddler remains safely locked away in one of the bank safes - letting his men do all the work.

“Bold move coming in here head on with no back up.”

Guns start blazing, and Bruce is busy dodging them while the riddler tries to escape.

Cue the riddler’s shocked expresssion when he hears a small arabian boy’s high-pitched war cries.

“Operation Robin Spring attack.”

And Dami easily finds his way past all the goons and dropkicks the riddler, then goes to free the hostages.

(Robin spring attack is called that, because well, it’s an attack where Dami literally jumps out from under Batman’s cape. But also “spring” because robins don’t usually appear in spring in most countries, and it’s a surprise attack.)

Thank you for listening.

[hualianff]

More Than This VI 《V》

It’s no surprise XL gains his own taste of fame after walking the red carpet with one of the most sought-after actors in the country. He doesn’t mind it, going as far as to create a few social media accounts to interact with fans and scroll through their photos and edits of him. He has a few fan sites too, but only for fancy events where he chooses to be recognized in public.

XL and HC agreed before sharing their relationship with the public that they would maintain a strong sense of privacy when it came to their personal lives. They only share what they want to. The paparazzi who manage to take photos without permission are immediately disciplined so it doesn’t happen again.

(“I can’t believe you did it.”

“Hmm, Gege said he was okay with it.”

“I know! But I didn’t expect you to actually....” XL stares at a recent selfie of them HC had posted on his Twitter, taken the night HC won his award. “We look like we just had sex.”

“Nobody’s gonna know.”

XL raises an unimpressed eyebrow at his boyfriend. HC insists again.

“Nobody’s gonna know-”

“They’re gonna know,” XL says with a sigh, pointing to the hickey marks clearly visible on the photo. HC rolls over closer to XL in their bed, scrutinizing the image on XL’s phone.

“Oh, I didn’t see those when I posted the photo.”

“San Laaang!” XL cries, pushing at the taller man’s shoulder before burying his face into his pillow. HC makes XL breakfast in bed as an apology and promises to not drunk-post anything again.)

Eight months after officially dating–which is over two years since they met–HC asks XL to move in with him. XL doesn’t even need to think about his answer, a simple “Yes! Yes please!” escaping his lips. Both HC and XL’s faces light up with overjoyed smiles.

They seem to have had the same idea about where to live, purchasing a home they’ve been eyeing for months! The best aspects include a massive yard (front, side, and back) for XL to tend to, a hot tub, and a spacious living and dining room area to entertain guests. It’s not the grandest or most impressive residence by size or feature. In fact, the first months have them living in a half-finished, rusty house with the prettiest garden you’ve ever seen.

It gradually gets better. HC and XL knew they would have to do a lot of work to improve the shape of their home. Over the next year, they repair and remodel the house themselves, simultaneously adding value to the property and curating the style to fit their dream home. XL makes sure to post progress photos on his social media. His most recent selfie of HC and himself in hardware glasses got over 500k likes! He pinned HC’s comment that said, “Gege is my own very handyman!”

(HC, in a sleeveless tee, shorts that show off his ass, hair pulled back into a high bun: “Gege, you’re the boss now. Tell me what to do.”

XL, struggling not to gawk at HC’s side boobs: “O-okay, first, can you smash those cabinets-”

Cue them making out against the counter when it’s the only part of the kitchen that is fully done.)

***

Having a partner who considers the outdoors as a second home is a special experience. XL often takes HC on dates to national parks and plant nurseries. They go on weekend camping trips where XL teaches HC how to properly filter water, summit long stretches of terrain, and stay warm during cold nights with below-freezing temperatures.

(HC, trying to fit into XL’s sleeping bag: “Hi, gege-”

XL: “San Lang, you have your own sleeping bag that you can actually fit in.”

HC: ‘But I’m cold. Gege helps keep me warm.”

XL: “Fine. But let’s use yours because it’s bigger.”

HC, kissing XL’s forehead: “Thank you, my love.”)

On their hikes, XL points to different plants, explaining their origins and why he finds each one particularly beautiful. At first, HC picks up random flowers on the way home and then he asks XL about what flower fate gave him that day to gift his beloved. (“San Lang, that’s not allowed!”) HC eventually stores all the random facts in his mind, always eager to listen to XL talking about his passion. He also learns to keep his hands from digging up “poor, helpless plants from their home soil.”

However, this unfortunately doesn't prevent HC from accidentally squishing some plants in their yard that he thought were just weeds.

(HC, thinking he’s a good partner: “Get out, stupid weeds. CHOP CHOP!”

XL: “SAN LANG STOP, WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?”

HC: “Gege always works so hard. I just wanted to help you in the yard today because you deserve it.” 🥺

XL: *sigh* “I appreciate the gesture, San Lang. But those particular grasses took months to grow, and you just killed them-“)

***

Countless media outlets try to stir up trouble like they typically do with celebrities. Especially when HC has roles that involve romance, articles claiming HC and XL are on the brink of breaking up receive lots of attention. However, what gains more attention are the videos the couple posts on Youtube or Instagram live of their reactions to their “scandals.”

(XL, reading a headline: “Actor bachelor Hua Cheng and co-star Yushi Huang seem to be cozying up after a late-night shoot.’”

HC: “I’m not a bachelor, the fuck?”

XL, smiling: “You could be. Me as well. We can be bachelors together.”

HC, chuckling: “All right. If gege is, then so am I.”

The comments: “That doesn’t make any sense!?”

HC, reading another headline: “HC’s lover found with a mysterious third party??”

XL, exclaiming: “Oh, that’s Shi Qingxuan! You know, the designer for all our red carpet outfits!” 🥰🥰

HC: *nodding along*

XL, cheekily: “-and my secret second-lover”

HC: *blanches* “What.”

XL: “Kidding!!!! San Lang is the only one for me, hehe.” *kisses HC’s cheek* “Okay, next one!”)

Everyone watching the videos is 50% confused and 50% entertained as HC and XL make light of any drama the media portrays them in. Viewers accept that of course, the rumors aren’t true; HC and XL are still very much in love.

They’re in love with each other and will continue falling for many years to come.

***

HC doesn’t like watching himself on screen. However, he does enjoy previewing his own movies for the first time with his boyfriend.

While XL watches the new movie, HC observes XL’s reactions. It helps that XL is a conversational movie watcher too. XL’s narrations consist of horny comments during the sexual scenes (“Ooh, that’s hot. Nice tongue.” “Thank you?”), side remarks about the plot and characters (“San Lang, your character is very rude.” “...”), and dramatic reactions to the huge reveal scenes where HC becomes a human punch bag. (“Oh my goooosh, San Lang!! It was him all along- AHH!!”)

As a perfectionist, something you have to be in HC’s field of work, HC is incredibly self-critical of his performance. Which is another reason why it’s nice to have XL watch alongside with, who never has a shortage of praises for his boyfriend.

(HC: “Fuck, why did they leave this shot in the final? I’m supposed to be mourning for my dead lover but instead, I look like I’m crying out of daddy issues. Why did no one tell me!? It looks so bad-” *pointing to himself on the screen* “-stop looking so constipated-!”

XL, squeezing HC’s nape and massaging his shoulders: “San Lang, no one thinks that except for you. You did everything perfectly. Please acknowledge your hard work and just enjoy the movie.”

HC: *sigh* “You’re right. Okay. Thanks, gege.”

A beat of silence. HC cuddles closer to XL.

HC: “Love you.”

XL: “Love you too.”)

***

XL now knows HC’s movies well enough to quote HC’s lines in his movies to make him laugh. HC happily indulges him, questioning after breaking character, “Gege, are you sure I’m the actor out of the two of us?”

One time, HC and XL are in their kitchen re-enacting a scene with HC as the investigator going to a bartender for more information on his suspect. HC has XL caged against the counter, asking in a teasing manner, “How can I repay you for your help tonight?”

XL lowers his eyelids, looking up through his lashes, flawlessly depicting his character. “Any restrictions on your offer?”

“No, darling. Name a price, a brand, a desire. Right now, anything is on the table,” HC says huskily. XL slyly bites his lip.

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

XL brings a hand up to cup HC’s jaw, then smooths it down his neck, traveling down his bare chest. XL tilts his head to expose his neck, wanting to build up his boyfriend’s anticipation. But before he can say his next line, HC effortlessly throws XL over his shoulder like a bag of rice.

“San Lang, wait, this is not how it went in the movie!” XL shouts, a little dizzy from the sudden lift turning him upside down. HC takes long strides to their bedroom, plopping XL on their mattress and blanketing him with his larger frame.

HC only utters a husky “we’re improvising” before diving down to devour XL’s lips. XL’s arms hook around HC’s neck, holding him impossibly close.

***

After a filming shoot where HC’s character gets beaten up–HC performing his own stunts–he heads home beyond exhausted. He just wants to take a relaxing shower and cuddle his boyfriend in their warm bed.

HC arrives at their house a little past midnight. He opens the door and finds XL’s back facing him, quietly humming a song as he takes care of the vase in the living room. The sight makes HC smile.

However, as XL turns around, the vase slips from his hands and explodes into pieces on the ground.

“San Lang! What happened to you!?” XL cries out, the panic in his voice only comparable to the day he had confessed. HC stands in the doorway confused. Was something wrong with his appearance?

XL is on him in an instant, his pupils shaking as he frantically asks, “Does it hurt a lot? What happened!?”

HC blinks, expression blank as he still doesn't understand what has freaked XL out. But as the shorter man gently caresses HC’s face, it suddenly hits him.

The make up!

HC urgently starts rubbing the fake bruises off his face. “Gege, I’m okay! It’s just make up, none of this is real. See?” He holds his hands out for XL to see as the pigment stains HC’s palms. “I’m so sorry! San Lang is dumb, he didn’t mean to make you worry,” HC murmurs as he takes XL between his arms. He really loves this man too much.

XL’s teary eyes shine glimmer as HC embraces him. “Y-you’re sure you’re okay?”

HC nods, leaning into the slender hand that cups his cheek.

“Thank goodness,” XL breaths out as he buries his face into HC’s neck. His next words are slightly muffled. “It looks…so realistic.”

“Yeah, the make up artists are all quite talented, aren’t they?”

XL clings tighter to HC.

“Very much so. Let’s shower so we can properly wash it off.”

“All right,” HC says. “Wait, we?”

XL tugs HC toward the master bathroom.

“Hush, let’s go.”

***

They lay in bed together after four long months of separation. Both of them had been in different parts of the country; HC filmed a drama series while XL traveled for several high-profile projects. Their respective busy work schedules limited communication to brief video chats and text messages, which never seemed enough.

Now, with his head resting on HC’s chest, their legs overlapping comfortably, XL finally feels like he’s where he belongs.

“Why did you choose me?”

Tactical fingers massage XL’s scalp, lulling him into a serene state of bliss. XL nuzzles further into his boyfriend-sized pillow.

“It’s not like I can choose who I fall in love with, Gege,” HC states with a light chuckle. “But if you want an answer, it’s because you are everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner.”

XL looks up at his boyfriend, mouth forming a shape of an O.

“That simple? Even when we made a deal to have no strings attached?” XL asks. HC groans at the reminder of their initial agreement.

“Yes, which was a dumb decision on my part.”

“I agreed to it too. We were both dumb.”

They are silent for a moment. It’s not the first time they’ve talked about or referenced their insecurities when it came to confessing their feelings. XL’s luck when it came to dating someone who could love him for every part of him was practically nonexistent. HC’s constant grappling for his self-identity and worth rendered most of his relationships superficial. And temporary.

Always temporary.

“I can’t believe you thought I didn’t like your plants though. They’re so pretty. And fascinating.” HC says, breaking the silence.

“They take up half our living room space.”

“So? You work with plants all day. They’re bound to be a part of your personal life as well.”

XL’s heart bursts with a sudden fondness. It’s a wonderful thing to be appreciated for the little things.

“I’m glad you think so,” he says happily. HC hums in response, sending vibrations to where XL’s cheek lays on his chest. “I can’t believe I didn’t know you were a famous actor for the first three months we…”

“Met up for sex?” HC finishes with an impish grin.

“Yes,” XL laughs.

“It was nice not to be recognized for once. With you, I could just be myself,” HC says with ease he never thought he would be able to do. He’s struggled with letting himself be vulnerable his whole life. It turns out, HC just had to find the right person. And thank god he did. XL is more than HC’s outlet from his career. He’s become HC’s closest friend who knows him the best; he is HC’s number one supporter in any endeavor he pursues; he makes HC feel important. XL sees and loves HC for who he is. No amount of fame or wealth could come close to comparison.

“Gege?”

“Hmm?”

“Does it ever bother you that my life is always everyone else’s business?” HC softly asks.

“Well, the fame can be a bit…uncomfortable,” XL admits. “But you’re an amazing actor. And a remarkable person. I can’t blame your fans for loving you so much, you know? I also got to ride in a limo-“

“Which you rode very well-”

XL flicks his boyfriend’s forehead.

“You’re so predictable.”

“You would’ve said the same thing given the chance. Don’t lie, gege.”

They go back and forth a little longer, never once creating unnecessary distance between each other as they roll around until they’re on their sides. Facing each other in their bed that’s been vacant for months, HC and XL are inseparable.

“As I was saying, fame is something that comes with your job–your passion. You can’t control it, nor does it solely characterize who you are. Besides, I get to be a part of your life! That’s all that really matters,” XL continues. He shifts forward so their bodies are closely pressed together. XL plants a kiss on HC’s chin, then whispers a confession that tilts HC’s entire world on its axis.

“I’ve been waiting my whole life for someone like you.”

HC’s world spins and spins until all that he sees is his beloved, gleaming brighter than all the galaxies without the power to disrupt their orbit. He wraps his arms around XL and kisses the top of his head.

“Me too, Gege.”

Bonus:

HC watches wearily as XL salivates at a showering scene where HC’s bare ass flashes in the frame. XL turns to HC with a serious look in his eyes.

“San Lang! Hiking has done your ass wonders.”

XL sneaks a grope to a meaty cheek. HC chokes.

***

“You can’t be late to your own premiere!” XL cries incredulously.

“Try me,” HC purrs into XL’s ear, delicately kissing the lobe.

XL gasps as teasing hands roam around his torso, one of them slipping down to cup his behind. He vaguely thinks about how SQX is expecting them in the next hour to help with their red carpet outfits. But when hungry lips attach to the sensitive column of his neck, XL is a goner.

“Gege doesn’t have to do any work. Just lay back and look pretty.”

(Brainchild with @no-one-says-hi!)