#what is ship name....less create...
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I just realized what a banger couple Korekiyo and Sonia would make. You knowâŠhe likes creepy things, she likes creepy thing. Sheâs interested in serial killers, he literally *is* one.
WHERE IS THE LIE THO LOL
Itâs funny that in every ronpa game thereâs gotta be SOMETHING related to a serial killer. Two have actual established serial killers as participants (Toko, Korekiyo), and ironically, itâs the second game full of ex-remnants that does not in fact contain any (active) serial killers but of course has a serial killer fanatic lol. (Objectively SDR2 probably has the most serial killers in a ronpa game but like Iâm talking about their IN-GAME pre-despair avatars kâno Nagitoâs indirect luck body count doesnât count k)
Anyways, YEAH THO. Both of them have such a large well of over flowing curiosity and thatâs a big part of what drives them to want to learn so much about different cultures and their niche interests. Korekiyo would be absolutely enthralled to hear about Soniaâs life and traditions in Novoselic, and Sonia would adore hearing Kiyo talk about obscure clans and their folklore. And OF COURSEâtheyâd trade morbid stories/tales riddled with murder and crime because THATâS their main bread and butter. I can just see these two having dates that consist of staying over at one of their places and watching true crime documentaries whilst dissecting the serial killerâs thought process and trying to guess how they did it and what theyâll do next.
I just love the thought of these two travelling the world to appreciate itâs wonders but also to hit up the creepy spots they heard about via shady online forums lol. They probably sneaked into the Paris catacombs to have a lil date there at some point probably.
#nmbh0051#danganronpa#sonia nevermind#korekiyo shinguji#what is ship name....less create...#soniyo#koresonia???#idk bruh#lost in translation duo#ye#fala replies#a e i o queue
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Preston x Danse is the only companion ship I think would actually work because Prestonâs inner turmoil is sort of a loss of faith in himself due to the traumatic experiences heâs faced while Danse is looking for something to have faith in and would find the fact that despite the desire to give up Preston held out so long not just for the honor of the Minutemen but because he had some hope.
It would 100% start off as a lotta unhealthy on Danseâs side as I believe he completely lacks the emotional intelligence (due to a combination of factors) to recognize the heâs feelings as anything but a sort of respect for a superior along with leaning too much into Preston as a substitute for the BoS. Preston may not really have a title but heâs like THE Lieutenant of the Minutemen. Realistically heâs the only companion Danse would probably be comfortable taking instructions from especially for how trusted Preston is by the Sole Survivor and his adherence to military standards despite how unstructured the Minutemen are. It would be him waiting for orders, approval, anything from Preston and he thinks itâs just the desire to have the regiment of the BoS again but he also like when Preston compliments him on being useful or resourceful. He likes the stories of Minuteman glory days and he trades the stories of the BoS that donât hurt to talk about. He likes the familiarity Preston would provide and heâd be oblivious that itâs not just new found loyalty to the Minutemen.
Yet Preston explains it himself that heâs not a natural leader. Heâs not an instructor. He helps manage what the General has put in place and he content on doing that. He relays what needs to be done and does major upkeep but I donât think heâd know what to do with this guy this literally marches up to him and practically begs for a mission that doesnât exist. Like the formality and respect is nice but he can tell itâs covering something even if Danse doesnât.
Danse could go to Sturges for the many repair and upkeep assignments he gives him and has the freedom to go straight to the Castle if he really wants a big mission, but he chooses to come to him everytime. Heâs aware enough that Danse only trusts him out of all of the Generals confidantes but it would take a bit for him to understand why. If anything Danse should be strategizing with him as equals seeing as he almost got the Minuteme wiped out and Danse was a Paladin for the Brotherhood with many successes under his belt before Preston even led his first scouting mission. Itâs like he sees him as some figure of hope, some one who can come in and add stability. Someone with a fresh outlook who can provide a new perspective for him.
Itâs like he sees him like he saw/sees the Sole Survivor but that would be crazy because that would also mean⊠and then oh, it clicks.
The revelation is both flattering and he doesnât know what to do with it cause how do you address âI know you respect me but is that the only feeling you have for me?â To the guy who like refuses to rest unless you tell him at ease? He has to reevaluate his whole manner of interaction with Danse cause this is a very slippery slope that heâs sliding down and itâs even more perilous due to Danseâs repressed emotions regarding⊠everything. Thereâs an equal chance Danse will try to open up as completely shut down and heâs not just concerned about it cause Sole Survivor cares for him but because he has grown to care for the guy too. Itâs not like he doesnât also enjoy Danseâs company and value as a Minuteman member. Heâs not a love at first sight guy but heâs played with the idea, anyone would when youâve spent nights trading stories, historical facts and beers by the fire in a little home youâve carved for yourself through literal blood, sweat and tears.
I think itâs one of those cases where itâs agonizingly slow to the actual relationship but neither part are anguished about that. If anything happened to soon Danse would be too dependent and Preston not equipped to handle it. Itâs a case where I genuinely think theyâd bring out the best in each other cause theyd want to figure out what is best for the other and not just apply what they think is the best. Itâs the care that Preston would ask Danse what he wants to do and encourage it and at the same time Danse would be incredulous everytime Preston second guesses himself.
Long story short itâs a good ship to me because itâs just two guys with broken confidences and faith in their roles being each otherâs hype man and kissin a little about it.
#my thing with the other ships is less that the compatibility is bad but a lot of these characters would not enable the best behavior in eac#other or they want drasticlu different things in life or partners and while flings or non serious things would work long term I imagine#problems would arise that a lot of them would not know how to address with each other like Preston is the most well adjusted besides like#Piper. Iâd say Nick but he has the whole Iâm technically another guy thing going on and DiMA and heâs a workaholic and throws himself into#danger a lot if Ellie is to be believed so like Piper is the closest next to Preston#a lot of these people should not be in relationships rn honestly because they have barely worked through their issues and should learn to b#health mentally and physically and emotionally alone first as they cling to hard to SoSu#like itâs almost all of them but like Piper Preston and MacCready but RJ is also just kinda a dick but we knows heâs always been like that#Preston x Danse is till more so a like this develops slowly and Danse doesnât know why his stomach hurts when Preston doesnât include him i#his patrol squad for the day and blames it on feeling like heâs being excluded for not being good at it and Preston excluding him cause heâ#like I need you to do something for yourself of of your own volition but also his buddy deserves a break and does not get that Danse is lik#a work dog that constantly needs a task or he becomes neurotic#I have so many thoughts on the compatibility of the companions cause some of them are like fun partners and fwbs and others would have the#most heartbreaking toxic romances known to man but still get over it the next day and be fwbs like none of them have healthy feelings#Preston x Danse#dunno if they have a ship name#fo4#preston garvey#fallout#fallout 4#paladin danse#danse#Danseâs active flirting is like âyou know how to perfectly create a secure perimeter I have trouble believing it wasnât just bad timing and#luck with the misfortune that followed your group to concord Lieutenant Garveyâ and itâs like the most reassuring thing Preston has heard#but that is like not a flirty thing but Presont is still smitten by it cause what the fuck does this guy see in him or why is he suxking up#to him and his poor planning skills
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Soo it happen again huh
#horrendous behavior and nobody wants to take responsibility#because is so much easier to keep this papĂĄ caliente game going on went some âsideâ does something awful but is not their fault because#the other side has done something awful as well#and we just keep going and going and nobody ever does nothing to you know try and make this place of supposly fun less of a hell for everyo#seriously I want to smack so many people a tv show is not worth losing the sense of humanity#and you donât have to be directly involved in whatever happens to be like mmm maybe this kind of behavior is not fucking normal#doing stuff as simply as cultivating your little corner without attacking anyone#oh they said an spec you donât like oh they ship a ship donât like well move on and let it be#(there the exception of when the discourse has stuff like racism misogyny or with doxing attacks thatâs absolutely has to be called out )#yes you donât send hate anon yes you donât run a blog attacking people or participate in directly attack behavior#but maybe getting comfortable casually hating on fans of a ship maybe can normalize that behavior and maybe the people that need#to log off and learn how to be humans again will see that and get use to indirectly hating other fans creating mock names for them and mayb#when they stumble a blog of someone that is not âon their sideâ they will feel more comfortable sending death threats and so out of touch#accusations#I overall stay away from drama I curate my experience but I have seen mentions this behavior from absolutely both sides both buddie mutual#bucktommy mutuals and multishippers being attacked#and nobody wants to take responsability they just throw the rock and said well the other side does it as well why should be the ones doing#we so easily call other behaviors but god fordib we take a moment to take a look into ours#what others do is not our responsability but the kind of enviorment we cultivates and endorse it is#I donât think people who donât do any of this attacking should take responsibility for it (like apologizing is what I saw was the apparent#Expectation) what I think is important is the overall recognition from both sides of hey under#no circumstance this behavior is okey and doing small simply stuff in our corner can help everyone have a better environment#And wells thereâs still idiot people who are way to online and donât understand nobody owns them to like the same ship or character#And that if you donât agree with opinions you are not obligated to interact with that content simply as that I honestly donât understand#What people sending death threats over characters genuinely hope to achieve#But maybe a little bit of excile of people perpetuating this can send the message hey this is not okey and I think is stronger if the call#Comes from inside the house#but if we go well is the other side fault every single time we are never getting out of this circle of toxicity#My two cents that probably nobody will read because of the lenght#911 discourse
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a word from our sponsors | knj
youâve co-hosted a podcast with namjoon for three years; have known him even longer. the two of you have always been the picture of platonic, but that hasnât stopped the internet from doing what the internet does. the shipping? a little weird at first, but you can understand it: two attractive twenty-somethings always in close proximity to one another, obvious (platonic!) chemistryâpeople have created ships for less. the fanfiction, though? also pretty funny⊠until you canât stop thinking about it. đïž
pairing: namjoon x f. reader genre: podcast, friends to lovers au; crack, smut, fluff rating: explicit. minors do not interact. warnings: parasocial relationships galore, a m*n with a p*dcast, author abuses italics, swearing, alcohol, reader uses a pseudonym/nickname (piper) because writing the meta fanfiction scene would've been too weird without one and i refuse to use y/n, dialogue-heavy but it is a fic about a podcast, everyone is down horrendous, mentions of social media & fake r*ddit posts, ex-boyfriend yoongi but in a good, healthy way. let me know if i missed anything but mostly this is just two goofballs not realizing they're in love with one another. smut warnings: kissing, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex (fiction), protected vaginal sex (nonfiction), a lil squirting, mild degradation, mentions of a p*ss kink but there is no actual pee i promise (...lest?), i didn't intend to write size kink but it's namjoon so it just showed up anyway, slight dom!joon, everyone orgasms. wordcount: 17.5k credits: this was entirely inspired by that one episode of the basement yard where frankie reads the smut fic of him and joe, so credits to both that author and that podcast. spotify, for their podcast name generator. astro-seek for helping me drag namjoon astrologically. an extra special, gigantic thanks to @effortandmore for writing the meta fanfic (3k of it, no less!) and not batting an eye when i said it could have pee in it as a joke. this is as much yours as it is mine. finally, @hot-soop and @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this over for me and telling me i'm funny. author's note: happy birthday, indigo! here i am to validate every fear you've ever had that the people you write porn about may one day read it. live and on air. :)
Youâve co-hosted a podcast with Namjoon for three years.
You can learn a lot about a guy in that amount of time.
None of it is especially salacious. You know all about his family and his dog and the brand of recycled paper towels he insists on buying in bulk. You know what heâd written his grad school thesis on and what heâd looked like in the thick of it, when he was staving off his fifth mental break of the week. You know how fidgety he gets when itâs closing in on Friday night and heâs got a dateâhow much he stresses over which restaurant to pick, which cologne, which expensive cashmere sweater to wear.
You also know what the internet thinks about him. Intimately.
Kim Namjoon, according to the internet, is peak husband material. He has cheeks ripe for pinching and thighs small countries would go to war to defend. He has a lap that doubles as a seat and dimples people want to get baptized in. He has Instagram selfies with hundreds of thousands of likes and comment sections full of intelligible keysmashes, especially the ones he posts from the gym.
Kim Namjoon, according to the internet, is a man written by a woman.
Looking at him now, you arenât sure thatâs true, you think people just need to raise their standards. Namjoon is just⊠Namjoon. Heâs intelligent and kind and up to date on modern feminist theory, is all. And, sure, maybe in the current political landscape that puts him far above the rest of men, but the way the internet has latched onto him is a little concerning.
âThereâs another post about whether or not weâre dating,â you say, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.
sooo letâs be real here, we ALL think theyâre dating, right?? Posted by u/pod-shipper 2 hours ago
Just like he always does, Namjoon huffs out a soft laugh, makes his way around to your side of the table. Puts his large hands on your shoulders as he leans in close to read from your screen, snorting every time he reads a sentence he finds particularly amusing. Whichever cologne heâd chosen this morning is, admittedly, very nice.
Itâs sooo obvious, especially in the episodes they film and post on YouTube. The way they look at each other?? I donât even look at my HUSBAND like that! (+1264) âł omg ur sooooo right! i could MAYBE buy that they arenât full on dating, but theyâve def at least slept together. Namjoon is so đ„đ„đ„ (+791) âł um how can namjoon be dating her when heâs already married to me đđ
(+3) âł For the millionth time, can we not speculate on their personal lives? This is weird and reinforces really harmful ideas that men and women canât just be friends. (-51)
âHow come they never talk about how hot you are?â
You can tell by the look on Namjoonâs face that he hadnât meant to say thatâor, if he did, he didnât mean to say it like that, with an entire pout, eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline. âCursed to be ugly and dumb,â you joke to ease the sudden tension, reading the comment that simply says youâd have to be the dumbest person alive to not sleep with Namjoon.
He scrunches his nose at that. Returns to his side of the table. âYeah, I donât think so, lots of people havenât slept with me.â Starts to unpack all the gear from his bag before he says, âHey, all that stuffâdoes it bother you?â
âWhat do you mean?â you answer, the corner of a protein bar stuck in your mouth. Namjoon always insists on recording at the most inconvenient times.
âPeople thinking weâre together,â he clarifies.
You shrug. âI dunno. Not really. Comes with the territory, I think, not to mention how much you love to overshareââ
âHello?â
âIâm just saying,â you retort, hands raised in self-defense. âThere really was no need for you to mention you blew your grad school stipend on a porn scam.â Namjoon looks affronted, like he canât believe youâd stoop so low as to bring that up. âOr that you lost your virginity at fifteen.â
âWe have a relationship podcast,â he states simply. âThatâs kind of what we do, right? Talk about relationships? And the spectrum of human sexuality is part of that.â
You slump back in your chair as you quirk an eyebrow. âNo one said it wasnât, I just said you overshare. Which you do.â
âAnd thatâs why thereâs a dozen Reddit posts a week discussing whether or not weâre dating? Because I overshare?â
âYeah, exactly. Thatâs the kind of behavior that leads to parasocial relationships. People latch onto that shit. Makes them think theyâre your friend.â He glares. âDonât give me that look, you know Iâm right. Itâs bad enough youâve word-vomited all this highly personal information about yourself, but to not even do it under a pseudonym? Itâs like youâre begging for trouble.â
Another comment he doesnât even realize heâs making: âI donât beg. For anything.â
To this day, youâre not sure why Namjoon asked you to co-host a podcast with him.
His reasoning had been simple: âYouâre my best friend and we donât agree on anything.â Hard to argue with that. Namjoon has seemingly endless patience, even in the face of things he shouldnât entertain, and you⊠do not, to put it simply.
Youâre not a cold person. Your fuse isnât short. Youâre just a little jaded, is all. Have far less propensity for bullshit than Namjoon does, so the two of you play well off each other. You end a sentence with a well-punctuated full stop and Namjoonâs right behind you to sigh and say maybe you shouldnât be so hasty, not everything in the world can be so black or white.
Except some things are. Somewhere along the way, the podcastâwhich Namjoon had affectionately named Place Him Gently in the Garbage, even though some people should be shoved in there with forceâhad picked up a following. A big one. And now, every week, youâre inundated with emails ranging in severity. Sometimes people just want to vent after their tenth bad date in a row or share funny stories, and Namjoon lets you take the lead on those, but sometimes itâs a little more serious. Thatâs where Namjoon shines, all that endless patience, and people love him for it.
âWhatâs on the agenda today?â he asks, accepting a thick stack of papers from Jungkook.
Ah, Jungkook.
You arenât sure what he actually does. Some kind of social media manager, which is obvious from the wildly out-of-context clips he posts of you to TikTok, and itâs his responsibility to go through the thousands of emails you get from listeners, but aside from that all youâve got are your suspicions that he just sticks around to swindle Namjoon out of more and more money.
âIâm in a silly goofy mood,â comes Jungkookâs reply, and you let out a witch cackle as Namjoon winces. Nothing good ever comes of Jungkook being in a silly goofy mood, and thatâs quite alright by you.
Fifteen minutes later finds you with a camera in your face that you greet with an unamused, flat stare. Jungkook is used to it by now. Just films for a few seconds before turning his attention to an unaware Namjoon. Head down, pen and highlighter going a mile a minute as he pores over the stack of papers with all the doggedness and eagle-eyed stare of a literature professor.
Thatâs the thing about Namjoonâhe takes this really seriously. So do you, but not in the ways Namjoon does. Heâs all skill and determination and youâre color commentary. It works. It clearly works, so you arenât too bent out of shape about it, but sometimes you worry. Namjoon takes this really seriously and sometimes you worry that he takes it too seriously, that he carries the burdens and worries of all these strangers, that heâs trying to solve and fix things that arenât his responsibility to solve and fix.
So he takes it really seriously and you donât take it as seriously as you maybe should, and everything is by design. Balanced.
Twenty minutes later finds you staring across the table at Namjoon, who asks, âAre you ready?â and does one last equipment check before he launches into, âWelcome back to another episode of Place Him Gently in the Garbage with Namjoon and Piper. Whatâs new with you, Pipe? Any fun news?â
Pipe. It drives you nuts. Feels like nails on a chalkboard. âI see you almost every single day,â you respond dryly. âBut for the sake of entertainment, Iâm thinking about getting a cat.â
âA cat?â Namjoon parrots, and his eyebrows disappear beneath his fringe because he knows what that means.
Youâve co-hosted a podcast with Namjoon for three years, but youâve known him even longer.
Since your first year of college, which is also when you met Yoongi. Yoongi, your ex. Yoongi, the person youâd been with for six years and had planned a life around. Yoongi, now one of your closest friends, because the two of you still love one another but no longer in that way, which is fine. But alsoâYoongi, allergic to cats.
So, yeah. Namjoon knows what that means, and he has the good sense not to mention it. Unlike him, youâre intensely private and keep your cards close to your chest. Your listeners donât even know your real name, let alone that youâd gone through a breakup a year ago.
âWhat kind of cat?â he continues, like his entire world hasnât just been turned upside-down.
You shrug. âEh, I donât know. Probably one thatâs been in the shelter a long time, I guess. Iâm not too fussy, you know?â
âRight, a cat is a cat,â Namjoon says, thinking heâs done something. You and Jungkook gasp at the same time. âWhat? Why are you giving me that look?â
âBecause thatâs a fucked up thing to say! A cat is not just a cat. They have little personalities, just like people. Youâve gotââ
âBut you just said youâre not fussy,â he interjects. âAnd I know they have personalities and that you have to find one that suits your lifestyle! Like, you canât have one of those really cool cats that likes to go kayaking and shit, itâd never workââ
âWhat does that mean? Why couldnât I have a cool cat?â
âHey, all you cool cats and kittens,â Namjoon mocks, and you can tell he thinks heâs done something again, but his impression falls flatter than flat. An awkward silence fills the studio. He coughs. âAnyway. Do you have pictures?â
âYeah. I also have a list of candidates ranked by how cool their names are. Number five, Casserole.â
âThatâs cute.â
âMhm,â you agree, âbut Casserole is a kitten, and Iâm not sure Iâm ready for that kind of responsibility.â
âThey do say you should adopt kittens in pairs.â
âAnd thatâs how they get you. You want one kitten and they talk you into two, and before you know it youâve got, like, twelve cats. Number four, Party Girl.â
âSick name.â
âNumber three, Toddler.â
âToddler?â
âNumber two, Flat.â
âJust Flat? Understandable.â
âAnd, finally, number one: Human Torch.â
âYoooo.â Namjoon laughs. âYou have to adopt Human Torch. Let me see.â You pull up a picture on your phone and hand it over. âOkay, for our listenersâHuman Torch is a young, male Domestic Short Hair. He has stripes. I donât know what thatâs called.â
âTabby,â Jungkook chimes in.
âJungkook says heâs a tabby. Heâs cute. Adopt him.â
You return your phone to your pocket. âMaybe. I still think I want an older cat, but Iâll consider it. What about you, though? Any new dating horror stories to share?â
Ah, the dating horror stories. Your most dedicated shippers are convinced theyâre fake, that Namjoon just makes them up on the spot to keep them off your trail. If only. Not in the if only they were fake and Namjoon and I were actually dating kind of way, but the holy shit one of my closest friends is a fucking disaster and itâs a little embarrassing kind of way.
âNot really,â he answers. âIâve got a date this Friday, though. Trying to decide if dinner and a movie is too boring.â
âItâs a classic for a reason. What are you gonna see, My Big Fat Greek Wedding 3?â
âThree?â Namjoon emphasizes, truly sounding scandalized. âSince when are there three? I havenât even seen one or two.â
âOkay, first of all, the original is a classic and itâs a crime you havenât seen it.â
âAnd second of all?â
âThere is no second of all. Repeat point one.â
He snorts. âIâm not gonna see that, anyway. Maybe the re-release of Howlâs Moving Castle.â
âSubbed or dubbed, though?â
âAre you trying to get me canceled?â
âAbsolutely.â
âI like both,â he chickens out. âNow, letâs stop wasting time and get to the point of the show.â
âTalking about cats is a waste of time?â
âIâno, weâve just got a lot on the agenda today.â
âLike what?â
âWell, thereâs lots to talk about on the celebrity frontââ
Namjoon loves this part. As esteemed and educated as he is, not even he is immune to good old celebrity gossip. (Inside him there are two wolves.) Lives for it. Texts you about it at all hours of the night. Sends you links to Reddit threads with hundreds of comments. Has more opinions on Celebrity Big Brother than he does on Ludwig Wittgenstein, sometimes, and when thatâs the case you know youâre in for a long evening. Youâve never even seen an episode of Celebrity Big Brother.
But Namjoon loves it, so youâve become fond of it by association. Reminds you a bit of Yoongi and his love for sports and sports anime.
ââone should we start with?â
âWhatever you want,â you answer, because you havenât been paying a lick of attention and you arenât sure it matters anyway. Namjoon can talk to a wall on a good day, but heâs an entirely different beast once mundane, innocuous celeb gossip gets involved.
And even though you hadnât been paying attention, it seems like this was the right thing to say, because Namjoon smiles so wide his dimples crater his face. âCool. Letâs start with Taryn Manning. Did you see that bizarreââ
âWho?â
âWhat?â
âWho is Taryn Manning?â
Namjoon looks a little dumbstruck. Even Jungkookâs arching an eyebrow at you. âAre you serious? She was in Orange is the New Black and Crossroads.â
âThe Britney Spears movie?â
âYeah.â
âOh. Weird, okay. Continue.â
Your co-host shoots you a very pointed look. âI will, thanks. Anyway, she posted a video on social media talking about this affair she had with a married man. Like, she pulled over on the side of the road to record this. Said she canât stand the manâs wife because she called her a quote-unquote lunatic.â
âIâhuh, thought we werenât supposed to say that anymore. Alright.â
âBut wait, it gets even more bizarre. Listen to this quoteâand this is direct. This is a direct quote from the video, I canât stop thinking about it: âDonât you ever threaten me when your husband came to me to get his butthole licked.â Can youââ
âWhat? Namjoon, what in the fuckââ
âItâs crazy, right? She was gonna buy this guy a boat.â
âNamjoon, this is a family show, you canât just talk about ass-eating unprompted.â
âNo itâs not.â
âWell, you still shouldnât talk about ass-eating unprompted. Itâs unbecoming.â
âYouâre unbecoming,â Namjoon fires back, because he canât help it. The words are out of his mouth before he can think. âSorry, that was out of line.â
You sigh. Know whatever look Jungkook is catching on his camera right now is exasperated and pointed, the corners of your mouth probably tugged up just a hint. âUnbecoming, like I said.â Namjoon scoffs. âAnyway, so this actress was gonna buy this married guy a boat and was eating his ass?â
âYeah. Apparently it was her friendâs husband? They all went to a Taylor Swift concert together.â
âJesus, this keeps getting worse. Big year for Hollywood cheaters.â
âIt is, right? Cheaters and divorces. Something in the water, I guess.â
âI saw the astrology girlies saying a bunch of planets are in retrograde, soââ
âCan you explain that to me? Like, what does it mean for a planet to be in retrograde? Why is it causing divorces?â
âI donât know, Iâm not an astrology girlie. Thatâs why I said the astrology girlies. What are your big three, though?â
âWhatâs that?â
âYour sun, moon, and rising signs.â
âHow do I find that out?â
âUgh,â you intone, âdonât worry about it, Iâll do it myself. What time were you born?â
Namjoon rattles off a time.
You grab your laptop. Pull up the page, type in Namjoonâs date of birth and birthplace, and wait. Then youâre staring at a circle with a bunch of lines in it that also donât make a lick of sense to you. You roll your lips to keep from laughing and school your voice into something deadly serious. âBad news: it says youâre a virgin.â
âVirgo,â Namjoon corrects, not taking the bait. âI already knew that.â
You scroll a little further down the page. âYour moon is in Sagittarius. Oh god, listen to this, theyâve got you pegged: âThe greatest need is to always search for something. In order to feel safe you need a philosophy or beliefâââ
âHaaa, thatâs notââ
âââYou need to have a goal or mission that gives your life meaning. Your faith must be voluntary and it is a paradox that fighting against dogmas may lead you to other dogmas.â Yeah, thatâs you.â
âThat could apply to anyone,â he argues. âThere are seven-billion people on this planet; Iâd imagine a sizable amount of them would say that also describes them.â
âHm, sounds like your faith in astrology is not yet voluntary. Did you know youâre a Scorpio rising?â
âNo. Iâm sure youâre gonna tell me all about it, though.â
You smile. âCorrect. âPeople with Scorpio on the Ascendant need to fight against dark and destructive power in their life.â Is that true?â
âYeah, youâre the dark and destructive power. You keep sidetracking me and we need to get to the point of the podcast.â He grabs the stack of papers Jungkook had given him. Looks more highlighter than paper, if youâre being honest. âI guess Jungkook thought we needed a lighthearted kind of day.â
âThat was nice of him, considering what he gave us last week. I guess weâre allowed to have faith in humanity today.â
To your left, Jungkook scoffs.
âAlright,â Namjoon starts, putting on his Very Serious Podcast Guy voice, âfirst up weâve got a question from one of our listeners in Canada. It says, âHi, Piper and Namjoon. I recently agreed to go on a blind date with a friend of a friend. She said he was a bit old-fashioned but really talked him up so I thought I was in good handsâand then he showed up to get me in a â67 GTO and exclusively referred to me as doll. He didnât use my name once. Iâm torn, because he was really nice and I had a good time otherwise, but this is weird, right? Should I see him agaiâââ
âNo,â you interject.
âCan I finish?â
âYou donât have to. This guy sounds greasy.â
Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. âAnd why is that?â
âIgnoring the fact that this guy has arguably one of the lamest classic cars around, he didnât use their name once? Not once, in all the time they spent together? Thatâs really disrespectful.â
âSome people are just pet name people,â Namjoon argues.
âWith absolute strangers, though? Itâs really giving the impression that he didnât even know it, not to mention some people are uncomfortable with pet names. The whole shtick is super lame.â
âI agree it sounds a bit misguided, butââ
Ignoring Namjoon, you say, âSorry you had to go on a date with the ghost of less-cool James Dean. Into the garbage he goes.â
And, just like heâs done a million times before, Namjoon rolls his eyes and says, âIf you really like this guy and want to see him again, a bit of communication will go a long way. Tell him the pet name made you uncomfortableâif it didâand offer to pick him up for the next date. I donât think heâs completely destined for the garbage, yet.â
âYouâre just saying that because you donât have a license. You probably think a 1967 Pontiac GTO is the pinnacle of romance. Thatâs probably like picking someone up on a Specialized Aethos to you, eh?â
âThatâs a fifteen-thousand dollar bike, Iâll have you know.â
You groan. âOh my god.â
Ep: #183 - Namjoon is a Virgin
I think Namjoon had the right idea on this one. Sure, the car can be considered lame, but I think a lot of men are deeply insecure and therefore overcompensate when it comes to dating. Women are hard to impress when they have unlimited options. You have to stand out, so Iâm glad he advocated for him. Piper can come off like such a misandrist sometimes. (-649) âł just shut up bro namjoon would fuckin hate u (+204) âł Imagine caring about something like this when theyâre getting a cat together đ (+19)
You think about the cat thing for nearly a week.
Adopting a cat is certainly not the worst idea youâve ever had, and truth be told itâs been a little lonely, living by yourself. No more Yoongi in your space; no more Holly. So, having a new little friend around might do you some good.
Itâs justâ
Itâs a big commitment, and thereâs also the dog sitting-shaped elephant in the room. Ending things on good terms means youâre still Yoongiâs second-choice sitter whenever he has to go out of town, and while you love Holly dearly (the two of you had adopted him together, after all), heâs a lot like his father in a lot of ways.
Should I get a cat, you type out, and itâs only been in Yoongiâs inbox a few seconds before the most unflattering picture youâve ever taken of him is flashing across your screen.
âAre you dying?â you ask, because Yoongi doesnât call you for much else.
And you already know what his response is going to be. âWeâre all dying.â
âLighten up, Yoongi. One might say being so existentially nihilistic before noon causes wrinkles.â
Thereâs a split-second pause. âItâs nine p.m.â
âSure, but itâs before tomorrowâs noon, so it still counts.â
âWhatever. Listen, before you adopt that cat, I need a favor.â
âYou going out of town again?â
âYeah. Shouldnât be long, though. A week at the most, five days if Iâm lucky.â
âThatâs fine, bring him over whenever. Yijeongâs busy?â
This pause is far, far longer. âNo,â comes Yoongiâs eventual response, but itâs slow. Unsure. A two-letter word has never taken so long to say in the history of ever. âHeâs, uh. Coming with me?â
Oh, you think. This is where your ex awkwardly and hesitantly breaks the news of his new relationship. Youâve known this day was coming, and this is what you get for staying friends with him. âThis is a fanfiction plot,â you accuse. âHot, mysterious man moves into a gaudy apartment complex after ending a long-term relationship and meets his equally-hot and mysterious neighbor and they fall in love.â
âIâthatâs notâmy apartment is not gaudy.â
âYes it is. Thereâs a giant gold bust of a weird bird in the lobby.â
âWeird bird?â he parrots. âItâs a swan.â
âI see youâre not denying the in-love-with-your-neighbor accusations.â
âAm I on trial?â Yoongi retorts, and itâs such a Yoongi thing to say when what he means is, is this okay? He means, are we able to talk about this without it being weird? He means, I wonât ever say as much out loud, but your acceptance means a lot to me, and Iâd like for you to give me this.
So you lower your voice and soften the edges because itâs not really something to joke about, and you say, âNo, of course youâre not on trial,â and Yoongi knows what you mean. âAnd if you were, you'd get locked up for fifty years. You canât lie for shit.â
Thereâs a beat of silence before he clears his throat, mutters a thanks that is so quiet you almost donât catch it. âSend me pictures of the cats.â
Later on, once youâre freshly-showered and tucked into bed with a candle and a book (Eloge de lâamour by Alain Badiou at Namjoonâs insistence and request), your phone buzzes with a text from Yoongiâ
Yoongi: toddler is a fucking hilarious name for a cat but so is flat Yoongi: itâs a tie for me You: Okay well pick one đ Yoongi: yijeong says get both You: Both???? Is he paying my vet bills? Yoongi: kinda out of line to proposition him for money. flat is also good with dogs, js You: If heâs now being raised by you two, my perfect, well-behaved son is probably long gone. Does he even count as a dog anymore? Yoongi: me and yijeong both say fuck off Yoongi: holly too. he says he doesnât miss you anymore and heâs not coming over now Yoongi has added Yijeong to the group Yoongi has changed the group name to #ThirdWheelChat Yijeong: Please donât drag me into this. Also I did not say âfuck offâ You have changed the group name to People Who Have Seen Yoongi Naked Yoongi: fuck you
You shouldâve known something was going on with Jungkook, because itâd started like this:
(When you and Namjoon started the podcast three years ago, it was in the living room of his apartment.
Surrounded by books and plants. He loved to record in the afternoons back thenâNamjoon loved to say it was because of his grad school schedule, but youâve always suspected he just wanted to preen in the golden hour light, much like heâs doing now.
âIs this really necessary?â Jungkook whines from his spot on the couch. Heâs already swindled Namjoon out of two bags of microwavable popcorn and three cans of sparkling water. âItâs a Saturday afternoon; I could be doing something so much more fun than this.â
Namjoon scoffs. âAre you saying this isnât fun?â
âYeah. It sucks, actually. This couldâve been an email.â
And because Namjoon is accomplished, mature, and absolutely incapable of not taking Jungkookâs bait, the space between his brows creases as he sends a murderous glare Jungkookâs way. âStop eating my food, then. And drinking my drinks. And lounging on my couch like thatââ
âIâm not lounging,â Jungkook argues.
âYouâre manspreading all over the leather!â
âThis is how I sit!â
âWell, knock it off! My couch is only for fun and people who think Iâm fun!â
Jungkook rolls his eyes. âSo you fuck on it?â
âWhat?â
âWhat other fun things could you possibly do on a couch?â
Namjoon blinks. âWatch⊠watch a movie?â
Jungkook groans, throws himself backwards against the pillows as if heâs suffering a Victorian ailment. âJesus. No wonder you canât score a second date.â
âOkay, that was a little uncalled for. There are a ton of reasons a person might not want a second date, and no one is obligated to go out with meââ
âUh-huh. Anywayââ
You clear your throat. Try to hide your own can of seltzer youâd taken from Namjoonâs fridge in the midst of his and Jungkookâs bickering. âNot trying to be rude, but I have an appointment at the shelter at three. If, yâknow. You wouldnât mind speeding this up a little.â
âOh! Yeah, of courseââ
âOh, so youâll speed this up for her but notââ
Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. âShe,â he begins, jerking his thumb in your direction, âisnât needlessly complaining and actually has someplace to be.â)
It was just a quick little rendezvous in Namjoonâs living room to come up with a rough draft for the following monthâs episodes. He couldnât do it over text because heâd fallen down the steps at his office and landed on his ass on the corner of a step and his phone had been in his back pocket. Cracked clean in half. And he couldnât do it over email because heârightfullyâknew Jungkook would ignore them because he has his inbox set up to send all of Namjoonâs personal emails to the trash.
But Jungkook holds onto things like that. Grudges. Loves to let Namjoon think bygones are bygones and pop up a few days later with some evil scheme. Hence:
âWhat is this?â
Jungkook smirks. Rocks back on his heels. âItâs fanfiction.â
âI can see that, but⊠why?â
This is where Jungkook shines: the ominous, cheshire cat grin; the aw, shucks demeanor that gaslights Namjoon into thinking Jungkook couldnât possibly be fucking with him. âWell, you were having trouble coming up with ideas for episodes, and thereâs an email in there from someone whose partner reads really expliââ
âJungkook, this is fanfiction about me.â
You canât help the laugh that escapes you. Of all the weird shit youâve seen on the internet (and thereâs been a lot), fanfiction of people you knowâyour friendsâwas something youâd managed to escape. Probably by virtue of not knowing anyone famous enough to warrant fanfiction being written about them.
But you shouldâve known. You really, really shouldâve known.
âOh my god?â
Youâre not sure who says it. Could be you or Namjoon, but the sentiment is the same. He mouths a what the fuck at you thatâs met with a shrug. Youâre in uncharted territory now, too. âWhere did you even find this?â you ask, taking the stack of papers from Namjoon. âAnd why did you print it out?â
âBecause Iâm going to track down whoever wrote it and get them to autograph it. Then Iâm going to buy a nice frame and hang it on the wall behind him, so we never forget this historical moment in Place Him Gently in the Garbage lore.â
âItâs a podcast,â Namjoon deadpans, âhow can it have lore? And how much lore can there possibly be?â
âItâs the internet,â you concede. âThe lore possibilities are endless. Donât tempt them.â
Jungkook nods sagely, well-versed in the degeneracy of the internet. âYeah, thatâs how you end up with shit like 4chan.â
â4chan? Thereâs Space Jam porn on there.â
As the youngest, all Jungkook can do is roll his eyes. âSometimes explaining this shit to you feels like trying to teach old people how to rotate PDFsââ
Namjoon scoffs. âIâm not that bad. I know how to rotate a PDF.â
Wow, Jungkook mouths. âAnyway, back to the fanfictionââ
âI donât want to talk about it,â Namjoon interjects. He looks at you. âItâs weird, right? Like, itâs weird that people have written this about us?â
About us.
Your scope of the world narrows to the size of a pinhead. Itâd just been about Namjoon before. This is fanfiction about me, heâd said, and you hadnât been included in that. Now itâs written about us and youâre included.
âIâwhat?â
âItâs about us,â Namjoon repeats.
Jungkook rolls his lips. âItâs about the two of you fucking, to be specific.â
âCan you notââ
âFucking a lot,â Jungkook continues. âSo much fucking.â
Namjoon looks at you, and itâs all you can do to keep from laughing. The look on his face is pure bewilderment, both that Jungkook has cooked up this idea and is hell-bent on executing it and that he remains employed. And maybe itâs a little bit of nerves, too, because neither of you are ignorant of the risks. Reading fanfiction about yourselvesâabout the two of you as a couple, specifically, or at least two people who have sexâis weird. Not something you can unread.
And maybe itâs because youâre so determined to not make it weird that you send Namjoon a cheeky, exaggerated wink, shrug your shoulders, and say, âIâll need a couple drinks, but Iâm down.â
Jungkook throws his head back and cackles wildly, and that look of bewilderment on Namjoonâs face morphs into something else. Trepidation, maybe; definitely disbelief, because sometimes he lets himself get swept away in Jungkookâs schemes, but itâs rare that you follow suit.
As Jungkook continues to laugh, you wonder if you shouldâve said no.
Namjoon has two stipulations: the two of you have to film the episode completely alone, and he, too, needs to be a little drunk.
The latter? Piece of cake, considering Namjoon has become some sort of whiskey aficionado in recent years. His drinking is streamlined and to the pointâhe knows exactly how much and what to drink to get him where he wants to be. You canât say he isnât efficient.
The former, though? Borderline impossible. From the second Namjoon states his terms, Jungkook is having none of it. Argues that heâs the one who found the story and the one who cleared it with the author, so he deserves to witness the fruits of his labor.
âNo,â Namjoon repeats for the nth time, âno way. Iâll barely be able to do this with just her, let alone both of you.â
And thatâthat doesnât bother you, right? You force a laugh, because why would it bother you?
There are few secrets between you and Namjoon, except your respective sex lives have been staunchly off-limits. Namjoon could be a virgin for all you know, and as you study himâthe way he keeps bobbing his leg, the slight shake in his handsâyou wonder if thatâs the reason heâs being so weird about this.
Itâs just a story.
Fiction.
Most people donât have to worry about someone writing stories about them fucking their friends. If they do, you reckon even less actually read them. So, sure, itâs a little strange, but people from all over the world send in stranger stuff all the time, donât they? Itâs literally the reason youâre in this predicament.
Eventually Jungkook agrees. His whining has gotten him nowhere, so he just throws up his hands. Posts a cryptic little âu guys wonât believe what the next patreon ep is lmaoâ that sends the internet into a frenzy. Doubles your Patreon numbers almost immediately, and both you and Namjoon do a good job of pretending the pressure isnât overwhelming.
Jesus. You have to read explicit fanfiction about yourselves. On camera.
Namjoon gets caught up with work and isnât available until the weekend, so youâre forced to sit with the nerves for a few days. Not too bad at first, but youâre nearly coming out of your skin by Thursday with the need to know. Youâre well-versed in the world of fanfiction, but this is fanfiction about you: your name, your likeness, maybe even your personality.
What will they know of Namjoon, though?
Will they get it right, the way he looks with his jaw clenched? How impossibly deep his voice can go, both when itâs raspy with sleep and when heâs fully at ease? Will the Namjoon in the story be closer to the Namjoon you know, or the version of himself he presents to the public?
And youâve known him a long timeâlong enough that there are few secrets between you, but you donât know the most intimate parts. All the parts the internet loves to speculate on. All the little gaps that, apparently, need to be filled in by fanfiction.
Will they know what Namjoon looks like when he gets off?
No, you scold yourself, jerking awkwardly like youâve been burned, and neither will you.
Because you are not going to think about this. Your thoughts are not going to go there. Namjoon is your friend, and youâve listened to him scold an endless amount of men on the podcast for exactly this behavior. Sexualizing their friends. Youâre not going to do it, too.
Maybe thatâs why youâre kind of seeing double when it comes time to record. Namjoon needed an extra shot and offered you one as well. Youâd necked it without a second thought and now youâre here, trying to ignore the slight tilt of the room as Namjoon adjusts the camera.
âHowâs the shot look?â he asks, gesturing vaguely behind him at his laptop screen because Jungkook had refused to lend you his fancy cameras if he wasnât allowed to be involved.
Itâs a completely normal question.
Itâs a question youâve asked and answered a million times.
Exceptâthereâs something horribly distracting about Namjoon in this moment. The outline of his back muscles through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. The way the sleeves are tight around his biceps. Heâs always been a gym rat, always carries around a protein shake that smells and looks completely foul, but you canât remember it ever being this obvious.
And you take too long to answer, because Namjoon straightens up just enough to send you a concerned look. Which does not help. You are not imagining what else might cause his brows to pinch like that, what might have his lips parting, have sweat dotting his hairline.
You swallow. Hard.
âLooks fine,â you manage to say. Heâs still staring. Are you on fire? You feel like youâre on fire, which would make sense. Would explain Namjoonâs sweating and concerned stare and the fact that he cannot stop staring at you. âMaybe a tiny bit to the right if weâre being picky,â you tack on, hoping itâll break whatever spell the two of you are ensnared in.
It works. âTo theâthe right, yeah, makes sense,â he rambles.
He moves it an inch to the left.
â
Things are tense, to say the least.
Recording hasnât been this awkward since your first episode, or maybe ever. Youâre sat across from one another like you always are, and usually Namjoon would be making quip after quip by now, talking endlessly until Jungkook shushed him long enough to get the intro filmed. Now, thereâs just silence.
âShould weâŠ?â Namjoon startles. Bangs his knee on the underside of the table and drops a string of curses. âSorry, are youââ
âIâm fine,â he says, cutting you off. He gestures vaguely toward the camera. âIâll just⊠yeah.â
Showtime.
You wipe your hands on your jeans, unsure of when they got so damp. Unsure of when youâd grown so nervous, too, because youâd been fine an hour ago. Had strolled in with two cups of tea and a little too much confidence, giddy at what you were about to do.
Maybe the nerves had shown up alongside the alcohol. This sounds reasonable, and you do not, under any circumstance or for any reason, think about Namjoonâs back. Or his biceps.
Namjoon makes it through the intro, dimples deep and wide as he smiles, and you also donât think about the way his voice cracks and gets a little breathy when he introduces you. Itâs only because heâd been drinking, and the flush on his cheeks attests to that. The same flush that creeps down his neck, still a little sweaty; disappears beneath the hemline of his shirt.
ââJungkook had. Right, Piper?â
Now itâs your turn to startle, and thereâs not much you can do to hide the obvious except ask Namjoon to redo the shot. Because itâs bad enough the internet already overanalyzes every move you make, every word choice, every instance youâve stared at Namjoon a second longer than they thought you wouldâthis is a blatant display of⊠affectedness.
âSorry,â you say, âI wasn't paying attention. Can we redo it?â
Youâre expecting a playful scolding. A ha ha, get it together, because thatâs what you usually get. But thereâs nothing aside from Namjoon studying you and nodding. Asking if youâre okay. Saying, âIs thisâthis is weird, right? Is it too weird? Maybe we shouldnâtââ
An out. Namjoon is giving you an out, and you should take it, you know you should take it, so thereâs absolutely no reason at all you shake your head and say, âNo, no, itâs fine! I think Iâm just a little, uh. Drunk?â
âAre you sure? We canââ
âItâs fine, Joon,â you insist. âBesides, itâll be good content, right?â
âGood content,â he parrots. âYeah, for sure.â He fidgets in his seat, runs his hands down the span of his thighs. Very, very thick thighs. âIâll grab us some water.â
You faceplant onto the table as soon as heâs out of the room. When did his thighs get so thick?
But the water helps. Cures whatever strange, insatiable thirst has come over you, because you feel much more human after a few glasses. Less drunk, too, which makes sense. Yoongi could barely escape your drunken, horny wrath when the two of you were together, so you chalk it up to a Pavlovian response.
Namjoon does the intro again. Introduces you strong and steady, not a hint of nerves, and explains, with a fresh blush taking over his upper body, what the episodeâs going to be about. âSomeone wrote fanfiction about us,â he says, scratching at the back of his neck. âItâs, uh, pretty explicit. Jungkook thought itâd be funny if we read it.â
You snort. âHe might get fired, depending on how this goes.â
âHe should get fired regardless,â Namjoon deadpans. âAnyway, we have permission from the author to read this so donât come after us, and, as always, weâll put all the credits in the video description.â
âSpecial shoutout to Jungkook, though, who was not allowed to be here with us for this momentous occasion.â
Namjoon laughs. âIâm sure heâs having plenty of fun at home.â You both pause. âThatâs notâIâm not implying anything with that! I just meantâyou know, like. Heâs hanging out and enjoying his day off.â
âUh-huh.â
âMoving on. I have two copies of this. Do you want your own?â
You grin, wicked and wide. âNah, just read it to me.â
âMaking me do all the work,â he huffs. âTypical.â
âThereâs a stack of papers in front of you that might say otherwise.â
Itâs clear you catch him off-guard. He cocks an eyebrow, opens and shuts his mouth a few times like a goldfish. An obvious question sits on the tip of his tongue: You think youâd be in charge? Instead he coughs, jerks his head to the side, and says, âI guess weâll see.â
It sounds like a challenge.
Thirty seconds is all you get before Namjoonâs shuffling his stack of papers and clearing his throat. Asking if youâre ready and jumping right into it once you say you are. Reads the first few lines like theyâre some old lecture notes, and theyâre conservative and safe-for-work enough that you start to relax.
And then Namjoon reads, âA louder one wonders if Namjoon is a pet name personâif heâd call her âhoney,â or âgummy bear,â âbabe,â or âbaby,ââ and you choke.
âGummy bear?â
Namjoon laughs along with youâthe weird one that almost sounds like a dog panting. âYou want me to call you gummy bear?â
âI want you to call me a Lyft,â you snark. âIâm leaving.â
He continues:
And thatâs how it starts, wandering thoughts, wandering fingersâthe first time Piper comes to the thought of Namjoon calling her baby, pushing inside her, showing her that he definitely doesnât beg, but she does⊠Well, sheâs a little ashamed. Sheâs apparently got a reputation to maintain, anyway, not to mention a friendship.
His eyes leave the paper and lock onto you. âOr maybe youâd prefer baby?â
âFuck off.â
Weeks after that first time, itâs become a habit, thinking about Namjoon as something more than a friend. Itâs confusing and a little mortifying and itâs starting to affect her in ways she hadnât expected. When they record, she feels fidgetyâsheâs jumpy when he gets close, has all the stupid obvious tells of an unwanted crush: her breath hitches when he whispers (why the fuck is he whispering in her ear, anyway? Doesnât he know what that does to a person?) inside jokes to her so Jungkook canât hear, her heart rate spikes when their fingers accidentally brush, she feels itchy and hot and a little embarrassed whenever he holds eye contact with her. Itâs terrible, and itâs only made worse by the way heâs doing all of those things more than usual. Or, at least she thinks he is, thinks sheâs not imagining the way his eyes linger on her more than she can remember happening before or the way sheâs caught him staring at her lips when she chews on the end of her pencil mindlessly.Â
Youâve completely forgotten how to breathe.
Namjoonâs staring again. You need to salvage this. Heâs only on paragraph three and youâre already squirming in your chair and imagining things that are not appropriate. So you roll your lips, return his teasing. âWell? Do you stare at my lips?â
It works. âNo,â he scowls.
âYou sure?â you joke, morphing your face into something half-pout, half-duck face.
âWeâre never gonna finish this if you keep making comments.â
âYou started it,â you point out. âGo on, then.â
Thereâs some dialogue. Some prose that hits way too close to home, has you wondering who on earth wrote this and how they plucked every single thought from deep within your psyche. A pang of fear that maybe you havenât been as subtle as youâd thought all these years. A moment to confirm to yourself that, no, you havenât been harboring a secret, deeply-buried crush on Namjoon.
Then he readsâ
And then he kisses her. Itâs greedy and hot, his lips like a branding iron. She moans a little against her better judgment when he licks at the seam of her mouth, and in return, she can feel Namjoonâs lips curve into a smile against her own. Itâs better than sheâd been imagining it, really. Heâs a good kisserâfirm at the right times, soft when she needs it, careful but not cautious. He holds her jaw with one hand and keeps her right where he wants her beneath him (as if sheâd want to move, anyway). When their lips finally part, he rests his forehead on hers. Itâs intimate in a way she hadnât expected, and he looks at her as if sheâs the answer to every question. Finally, he whispers, âWhatâre we doing, Piper?â His lips are still wet and pink and a little swollen from kissing, and she barely hears the questionâsheâs too busy thinking about kissing him again, about pulling his plump bottom lip between her teeth, teasing andâŠÂ âKissing,â she says finally. âWhat do you want?â he asks, sinking to his knees in front of her. And if that alone isnât an answer to his question⊠âWhatever youâre willing to give,â she replies. It feels like sheâs wanted this forever, this and so much more. Once she got the idea in her head, itâs hard to know if she ever felt differently, ever truly thought they could just be friends. Or, if in the back of her mind, in the dark corners that she never lets see daylight, she always knew she wanted Namjoon. Always knew she loved him.
âand everything goes right out the fucking window.
Namjoon sits with those words for a moment. Scans the paper in his hands and frowns a little when he confirms what you already know. âThe rest is, uh. Porn.â
âThat is why weâre here.â
âLast chance to back out.â
âIâm not scared,â you lie. âAre you? Youâre the one who keeps stalling.â
He huffs. âYouâre a pain in my ass,â he retorts, and then nothing is all that funny anymore.
Because Namjoon was right: the rest is straight-up porn. Heâs barely able to read the part where he goes down on you with a straight face, turning a deep shade of crimson. Stutters through the part where you pull his hair, and that is not something you needed to know about your friend. You think he loses his grasp of language entirely when he reads, âWhen he slides a long finger into her and brushes past her most sensitive spot, she arches into him and lets his name fall from her lips in a soft cry. Piper, notorious skeptic, is a babbling, trembling mess as she gets closer to her orgasm,â because all the words are garbled together, producing nothing but gibberish. You think heâs ready to keel over and die when he reads, âNamjoon pulls away briefly, lips slick with her juices, and licks over his top one, pausing to tell her how good she tastes before he dives back in.â
âThat was nice of them to include. I appreciate their attention to detail in regards to my personal hygiene.â
âThis is so embarrassing,â he whines.
You roll your eyes good-naturedly. âGimme. Iâll finish it.â He hands over the papers immediately.
Except you regret it immediately. The words youâre staring at are not words you ever thought youâd read or recite in your entire life. Not even for a million dollars. âOh,â you say instead.
âSee? Not as easy as it looks.â
âThis is really embarrassing,â you confirm. âI might need another shot.â
âY-yeah. Alcohol sounds good.â
Namjoon staggers forward obligingly, looks completely fucked out and pliant, willing to do whatever she asks. She remembers the sounds he made when she pulled his hair, wonders if he likes being bossed around, if he wants her to tell him what to do, to be a little mean to him. Maybe itâs different from her dreams, maybe he will beg her. She wants him so badly, sheâd do anything for him. So, she pulls his briefs down to expose his absurdly large member, already mostly hard, and slaps it. Gently at first to see how heâll react, and when he shudders and jerks his hips, she does it again, a little harder. âLook at you,â she whispers, âsuch a needy boy.â He whimpers at that, eyes pleading. âPlease, PiperâŠâ he whines.  âPlease what?â âPlease let me fuck you,â he begs. She wants to, wants him so much, wants to feel him stretch her open, and from the looks of his cock, thick and long and drooling with precum, he could. âShould I?â she asks. She musters all her confidence to keep the condescending tone up. It feels wrong given how desperate she is to get him inside her, but it also seems to be getting him worked up and equally as desperate. âDo you even know what to do with that big, stupid cock?â Namjoonâs cock twitches, and he begs, âIâIâll fuck you so good, PiperâŠ. I know how, I promise. Just⊠please?â
âOh my god,â the two of you say in unison.
You so badly want to ask if this is biographical. How Namjoon feels about a little degradation; what heâd do if someone actually called his cock stupid. Ifsomeone has called his cock stupid. You dare a glance at him and conclude that someoneâs had to. Namjoon just has that kind of energy.
But you canât ask because itâd be weird, so you keep reading.
âHow do you want me?â she asks softly when their lips part. Thereâs a wild look in his eyes, like heâs processing all the possible options out of everything heâs considered. And then it occurs to her. âHave you imagined this before? Thought about how youâd fuck me?â she teases him as she stands, stepping into him. Piper pushes one hand through his hair, brushing it back off of his forehead and wraps her other around his dick, squeezing a little for emphasis on her words. âYes,â he groans as she strokes him, thumbing at the head of his cock. âTell me what you want, then. Want me on all fours for you? Want me to show you how itâs done, to let you lay back and ride you so you donât have to put in any work?â Namjoonâs breathing is getting heavy, pupils blown wider with each suggestion.Â
âI told you!â you shriek, laughing in between the words. âI told you IâdâŠâ And then your gloating tapers off, because what happens next has your brain malfunctioning.
âAll of that,â he whines as she lets go of his hair and brings her hand down to run a fingertip over his perineum. âWant all of that. Want to bend you over the table and fuck you right here. Hear your sounds in the microphone.â Even in her dirtiest thoughts about him, she hadnât considered the microphone, hadnât considered recording it. When she thinks about it though, it makes sense. Namjoon is exactly the kind of person that would get off to someoneâs voice. So, she does. She makes a show of turning around and slowly bending over the table, sliding her upper body across it carefully until she can reach her microphone and turn it on. When she says into it, âWhatâre you waiting for?â she sees over her shoulder the way that Namjoon shivers.
This is⊠not good. Youâre never going to be able to look at a microphone the same way, which is extremely not good for a person who supplements their income with a very popular podcast that requires them to speak into a microphone for extended periods of time.
This is very, very bad.
Namjoon must be thinking the same, because he lets out a strangled a-haaa thatâs less of a laugh and more a plea to God, the gods, the entire gamut of higher powers that might be able to save him. No oneâs going to, you think, staring down at the paper again. This godless piece of fanfiction will be preserved on the internet forever, will be seared into your mind forever, and no amount of praying is going to erase it.
âI should, uh. Just read the rest, yeah? Get it over with?â
âMhm. Yep. Yes, please.â
Donât say please, you almost say. You canât take it; not after what youâve just read.
So you put on a show. Steel your expression and your nerves and take it seriously. Use voices and sound effects and desperately try to stave off the awkwardness you know is inevitable because a smut fic is probably only going to end one way, and thatâs with you acting out Namjoon having an orgasm.
Maybe youâll have another one, too, if the author is nice.
Itâs sweet, she thinks, the way heâs easy for her, takes his time with her. Strokes his fingertips along her sides and kisses the back of her neck reverently. As much as she loves it, part of her hopes heâs not always like thisâhopes heâll give as good as he takes, hopes heâll put her in her place. She can feel his cock hard against the cleft of her ass, not even inside her yet, and still, she thinks about next time and the time after that. âStill okay?â He breathes into her ear as his tip rubs against her cunt. âYeahâwant you, Joon.â âNever thought Iâd hear you say those words.â âI never thought youâd record them,â she teases, eyes glancing up to the flashing light showing the mic picking up all of this as he starts his slow slide into her. Piper falls even further forward when he bottoms out, letting her forehead rest on the table. Heâs whispering filth in her ear, about how he has something to prove, how sheâll never want anyone after this, how no one can fuck her the way he does. She hates that heâs right. Each stroke brings a new sensation: sparklers, butterflies, nerve endings on fire as he fucks into her and licks and sucks at her neck, her shoulders, her ear. Piper canât even think, and this is what people mean when they talk about being fucked stupid, she decides. Itâs perfect. Every time she thinks sheâs getting close again, he changes something: fucks her a little shallower, moves his hips just a little, slows down, speeds up⊠Itâs driving her crazy. âCome on,â she whines. âIâm so closeâŠâ At least she can tell he is, too. No longer able to sustain the dirty talk, heâs breathing heavily, letting out broken moans and sighs of her name. Heâs moving rhythmically now, thrusts consistently faster. âOh, fuck, Piper,â he groans, âGonna cum.â One of his hands finds her clit and he rubs careful circles over her, bringing her to her peak along with him, no more teasing. When she comes, itâs with a loud moan into the studio mic, and that seems to be what tips Namjoon over the edge, too. His hips stutter into hers as he comes, her cunt clenching around him for what feels like forever.
You deserve an award, you think. An Oscar. You didnât even groan when you had to read the word âcunt,â and thatâs a feat in and of itself.
âIs it over?â Namjoon asks, words muffled by the hands covering his face.
âNot quite,â you answer. âThereâs some aftercare, and at the end you ask if Iâll piss on you.â
Namjoon gags. âI asked you whatââ
âTodayâs episode has been brought to you by Stamps-dot-comââ
HOLY SHIT THE NEW PATREON EPISODE???????? Posted by u/pod-shipper 4 minutes ago NO WAY. NOOOOOOO FUCKING WAY DUDE THEREâS NO FUCKING WAY THEY DID THIS AS AN ACTUAL EPISODE WHAT THE FUCK WHAT HTE FUCK WHAT EHTU FKF DFGLKDG;L (+705) I wasnât sure if they were messing around before, and I was quite critical of the âshippers,â but now Iâm pretty convinced. (+423) âł weâve been telling yâall for YEARS đ€ (+197) âł Glad youâve seen the light, u/RandomAcorn2058! (+5) âł ugh. they werenât messing around before and they arenât messing around now. do you guys not listen to what they say? namjoonâs been dating, and piper got out of a six-year relationship just over a year ago. if theyâve had something going on for âyearsâ that means theyâre both cheaters, and thatâs a really shitty thing to assume about them. not to mention it makes the entire point of the podcast moot. (-63) Why do you guys think Jungkook âwasnât allowedâ to be there? (+314) âł So they could fuck lmao itâs so obvious (+329) âł because itâs awkward af? would you wanna read porn about yourself w all your coworkers in the room? (+2) âł the âitâs awkwardâ excuse is sooooo lame heâs the one who found it and is the one who edited the episode, heâs gonna see it regardless. (+15) âł Tbh Iâm more curious about how he even found it to begin with? Do they have a throuple thing going on? Like, why was he looking for smut fic about his bosses? (+38)
You do not get through recording unscathed.
You are very scathed. Perhaps the most scathed a person has ever been.
Jungkook texts the group chat sporadically throughout the week, cracking jokes and making memes at your and Namjoonâs expense which is par for the course and shouldnât have you off-kilter, but something inside you feels deeply wrong. Feels like someoneâs given you devastating news; feels like it used to back in uni when you knew youâd failed an exam and were just waiting to see how badly.
It both helps and doesnât that the internet is so invested. All the clips Jungkook keeps posting have re-doubled your Patreon numbers, and jumping up a tax bracket never hurt anyone, you included. But all of those jokes and memes largely went unanswered by both you and Namjoon, still too close to the incident to find the humor in it from the other side.
The two of you had sex.
Not literally, of course, but you figure you might as well have with the way youâre feeling. The way youâre avoiding one another. Someone wrote a story about the two of you having sex and you both read it and something about that, days later, feels really fucking unsettling.
In a bad way? You arenât sure. Itâs not like youâre mad or upset or any other synonym. You just feel⊠off. Itchy from the inside out, and thatâs far from the norm in your and Namjoonâs friendship. In all the years youâve known one another, youâve never once avoided each other, including the time youâd set him up with a close friend and he showed up 45 minutes late to their date and ghosted after.
(Unsurprisingly, that friendship had not lasted.)
Maybe itâs because Yoongi had always been there as a buffer. You arenât of the belief that men and women cannot be platonic friends, but being in a years-long committed relationship nixed a lot of awkward interactions and assumptions off the bat. Even Namjoon had known Yoongi first. Had introduced himself to you in your shared 100-level psych course with a, âHey, youâre Min Yoongiâs girlfriend, right?â because they ran in the same underground circles and Namjoon had idolized him from afar for years.
Pretty fucked up, then, that Yoongiâs off in Los Angeles with his hot new boyfriend and youâre on your couch, Holly at your feet, pointedly ignoring your texts.
âIâm gonna get a cat,â you say to the dog, trying to redirect his attention when he starts chewing on your sock again. Holly doesnât offer any input, of course, and heâs a lot like his father in that way. âI canât believe you have a stepfather. Youâre a proper child of divorce now, Min Holly.â
There are a pile of unread texts you continue to ignore in lieu of showing Holly pictures of adoptable cats. A few more memes from Jungkook, one from Namjoonâs new phone asking to move the recording date a few days because âsomething came up at work,â one from the food delivery service you admittedly use too much offering 10% off your next order, and two from Yoongi. This reminded me of you, the first one says beneath a picture of an ice cream cone on the ground, and another one of him holding a water gun that says send me a picture of my son or else.
You eventually reply back with a picture of your middle finger, Holly nothing but a blurred brown blob in the corner of the frame.
Thatâs how it goes for the better part of a week. Namjoonâs work issue lasts four days. He doesnât offer an explanation and you donât ask for one, you just wait for the all-clear text and try to quiet the nerves once you get it.
Youâve never been nervous to see Namjoon before.
The more popular the podcast became, the more money rolled in. The more money that rolled in, the more you could afford nicer things. That meant going from recording in Namjoonâs living room to a bona fide office space. Third floor, an expanse of windows and natural light, thirty-five minute commute by train.
Today, it feels more like thirty-five seconds.
You can hear Jungkookâs witch cackle from the stairwell, and your mind fills in the blanks of Namjoonâs exasperated sigh. It helps, your brain reminding you that you know these people. You know this is Jungkookâs late gym day, so heâll be in a pair of sweats and a hoodie that drowns his frame. You know that when Namjoon has work issues and feels like an inconvenience, he always shows up with two boxes of baked goods from the bakery near his place, and you know both of them will save the best donut for you.
So you walk in and Jungkookâs in a hoodie and sweats just like you expect him to be, and there are two boxes of baked goods next to the coffee machine. Both of them say hello and wave and, for all intents and purposes, everything is normal.
Except it isnât.
Because Namjoon looks⊠different.
Not in a bad way. Not in a bad way. He almost always dresses nicely, always looks polished and put-together, usually because heâs either going to or coming from campusâfitted shirts, either of the tee or dress variety, and earth-toned cardigans; tailored trousers that are sometimes corduroy; polished loafers. Sometimes, if heâs feeling extra casual, a stark white pair of tennis shoes.
Today, he wears none of those things.
No, today torture comes in the form of form-fitting jeans and a t-shirt a little oversized so he can roll the sleeves. His hair is brushed back off his face instead of parted down the middle. Heâs wearing gold jewelry that glints in the sun. A pair of off-white Converse high-tops. And, much to your horror, heâs also wearing his glasses.
According to the internet, Kim Namjoon is peak husband material, which you can usually ignore, but not when heâs wearing glasses.
You avert your gaze, convinced youâll burst into flames if you stare too long, not to mention Jungkook will notice and thatâs a ribbing youâd rather die than take. So you avert your gaze and pointedly ignore Namjoon, whoâs talking about his work crisis to no one in particular. Something about a co-worker going on an unexpectedly early paternity leave, and Namjoon being asked to cover some of his courses until they could find a more permanent fix.
Jungkook asks a question you donât catch. Because paternity leave means his co-worker and his partner had a baby, presumably via old-fashioned methods, and itâs not a direct mention of sex but itâs close enough to send you into a coughing fit you have to blame on your donut. Neither of them buy it, but Namjoon is a good enough person to look genuinely concerned. Reaches out, probably to slap your back, but the thought of him touching you is just⊠too much.
So he barely gets out an, âAre you oââ before you choke down whateverâs left in your mouth and cut him off with a, âYep, all good!â before youâre scurrying off to the opposite side of the room like a little rat.
It doesnât get any better.
Both of you are so stilted and awkward during recording that Jungkook has to be the voice of reason and call it, suggest trying again tomorrow. Luckily he has enough b-side stuff he can release if need be, Namjoonâs work emergency providing a decent cover, and he sends the two of you home for the afternoon with all the exasperation and incredulity of a disappointed parent.
Thirty-five minutes back home.
Thirty-five minutes to sit in the embarrassment of not being able to do your job. Thirty-five minutes to catastrophize and wonder what youâre going to do if you canât get it together. Namjoon will keep the podcast, of course; youâll be replaced with someone else. Maybe someone less cynical, maybe someone more, but undoubtedly a man. After this mess, you canât imagine Namjoon would want another female co-host.
But as embarrassed as you are, your traitorous brain keeps thinking about Namjoon.
Thirty-five minutes to think about his glasses and his rolled-up sleeves and the way the denim of his jeans contoured perfectly to his thighs. Thirty-five minutes to think about, âPlease let me fuck you,â he begs. Thirty-five minutes to squeeze your thighs together and overanalyze the way he stumbled over his words today; how he could barely make eye contact. Thirty-five minutes to draft a dozen resignation texts and delete them all.
You groan, head thunking against the train window. Youâll take a cold shower as soon as you get home.
Thatâll cure you.
You get home and walk Holly so long he gives up halfway through and you have to carry him back to your apartment. You take a cold shower and actually find it pleasant once the initial shock wears off, so it doesnât work to keep all your rogue Namjoon thoughts at bay. You make a simple dinner and donât think about Namjoon sitting you on the counter and having his way with you. You tuck yourself into bed far too early and consider going back to therapy, because clearly something very, very bad has happened to your psyche.
Needless to say, nothing cures you.
But itâs a new day, and youâre determined to get your shit together. Yesterday was a fluke, because youâre so normal and so capable of being in the same room as Kim Namjoon.
Exceptâyouâre not.
Jungkookâs there when you arrive, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. Barely looks up at you to say hello, and barely returns it when you do. You double-check the time, because you can count on two fingers the amount of times youâve shown up and Namjoon wasnât already there, jotting down extensively-detailed notes, circling and highlighting and chasing down Jungkook to ask questions.
âWhereâs Namjoon?â
Jungkook shrugs. âDunno. Not here.â
You roll your eyes. âSuper helpful, thanks.â
Jungkook rolls his eyes right back. âYou donât pay me enough to also be his handler.â
You bite your tongue. Arguing with Jungkook means youâve already lost the war. Not worth it. But it still eases your worries a bit that he doesnât know any more than you do. That Namjoon hadnât only texted him to say why he was running late because he didnât want toâor couldnâtâtalk to you.
So you wait. And you wait and you wait and you wait. Jungkook lets you talk to people on his dating apps and tells you about his new gym routine until your eyes are glazing over. Orders food delivery for the two of you because he gets hungry after an hour and had already eaten what was left of the snacks before you arrived. Cracks a joke that isnât really a joke about calling the police, because Namjoon still hasnât shown up and he hasnât said anything and none of your texts are showing as delivered.
Youâre halfway to hour two when the office door bursts open and Namjoon stumbles through, soaked with sweat and stammering over apologies.
âI am so sorâI broke my phone again so my alarm never went off and then I missed my bus? And apparently theyâre not running the regular bus schedule today so the next one was a half-hour wait, but then IâŠâ
You donât catch the rest, because Namjoon is covered in sweat and breathing heavily and a week ago you couldâve survived this. A week ago you wouldâve cracked a joke and handed him a towel and told him to get to work. A week ago you would not have been paralyzed in your seat, transfixed on the sweat rolling down the side of his neck.
You are fucked beyond belief.
Jungkook elbows you in the ribs, bringing you back to reality. â...even paying attention?â You startle, face warming in embarrassment. Namjoon still isnât looking at you. âThis is so sad to watch,â Jungkook mumbles, and thankfully itâs only loud enough for you to hear. âLike some stupid shit you only see in nature documentaries.â
Well, you canât really argue with that, now can you?
But youâre a professional above all, so you hum an acknowledgment and take your regular seat. Pointedly ignore Jungkook. Wait for Namjoon to assume his position as well, and youâre surprised to see the space in front of him empty. No notes. No script. Thereâs just⊠nothing.
âAre you okay?â you ask, gesturing to the space in front of him when he seems confused. âI donât think Iâve ever seen you without a stack of notes in front of you.â
âI forgot them.â
âDonât think Iâve ever seen you do that, either.â
Your tone is light and airy, not at all accusing or confrontational, but Namjoonâs jaw clenches nonetheless. He scoffs, fires a shitty little, âWere you not paying attention when I was talking about what a horrible fucking morning Iâve had?â at you that makes even Jungkook flinch. A few moments of stunned silence, and then, âOh fuck, Iâm so sorry, that was rudeââ
âYeah, it was,â you agree, and all of a sudden you feel too big for your body. Feel like there are ants beneath your skin, feel like everything is wrong, and you donât want to be here anymore. âItâs fine. Letâs justââ
Namjoon looks like he wants to argue, but he just sighs and says, âIâyeah, okay.â
This is where Namjoon would usually launch into the intro, a dimpled smile already plastered on his face thatâd drop as he discussed another failed first date with that brand of self-deprecation that makes him so endearing. This is where heâd say what have you been up to, Pipe, and youâd try not to groan because how hard could it possibly be to add one more letter, another syllable, but Namjoon seems incapable of it. This is the part that, for three years, has been seamless and easy and instinctual, just two friends having a conversation.
Thereâs a red light on your microphones that indicates youâre recording. Itâs on and it mocks you, because Namjoon is not doing the intro or telling you about a failed date. He doesnât use that cringey nickname. He doesnât say anything at all. His mouth opens and shuts and no words come out. Whatâs worse is that you know exactly why he canât speak, because youâre thinking about it, too.
âSo, uh,â you begin, and Jungkook makes a gagging sound from behind you. âCome here often?â
Namjoon ignores you. âRight, right, the introâŠâ He sucks in a breath. âWelcome back to another episode of Put Him in the Trash, Iâmââ
âJoonââ
âNamjoon, and my co-host here isââ
âJoon, thatâs notââ
âPiper. Wait, why are you looking at me like that?â
âThatâs not the name of our podcast.â
âHuh?â
âYou said Put Him in the Trash.â Namjoon just blinks. âItâs Place Him Gently in the Garbage.â
âIs it? Since when?â
âSince forever?â
He looks at Jungkook, who is hiding behind his hands. âIs she right?â
A beat of silence. âI canât do this,â he half-shouts, half-whines. âAre you two going to be like this forever? Because if you are, Iâm quitting. Iâm so serious. Iâm gonna quit. I canât take it anymore. The two of you are insufferable.â Another beat of silence, before Jungkook stands at full height and lords over you and Namjoon. âForget today. Just go home and try again on Monday. This is soâIâm seriously gonna quit.â
Yoongi comes on Saturday afternoon to pick up Holly.
Yijeong isnât with him, which is almost disappointing. Now that heâs dating again, you were looking forward to seeing just how awkward it could get with the three of you in the same room, but he looks good. Refreshed. The trip clearly did a world of good for him, and you canât even bring yourself to crack a joke at his expense.
He, however, has no such hang-ups. âYou look like shit.â
âWeird way to say thank you.â You click your tongue and look down at Holly. âDo you see how your father treats me? You should bite him.â
âMy son would never. But also, thank you.â He flops onto the sofa. âYou do look like shit, though. You wanna talk about it?â
âNot with you, preferably.â
âOh, gross, is it a dating thing, then?â
âIâno.â You pause. Itâs not a dating thing, but you still feel like youâve got motion sickness whenever you think about it. How would you even begin to explain this to Yoongi, anyway? Someone wrote a porn fic about me and Namjoon. You remember Namjoon, right? Namjoon, that Iâve known and have been friends with since college. Yeah, that Namjoon. Anyway, someone wrote fanfiction about us having sex, and it fucked me up so bad I can no longer be in the same room as him.
No fucking way.
âYou look like youâre holding in a fart.â
âYou know, Iâm getting really sick of you. Did you just come here to insult me?â
He snorts, but his smirk dissipates a few seconds later, a familiar seriousness filling the void. âWeâre okay, right? Was the Yijeong thing too soon?â
âNo,â you answer immediately, leaning over to flick him on the forehead. âWeâre fine, and if youâre happy, then Iâm happy for you.â He still looks doubtful. âYou want me to start singing âI Will Always Love Youâ or something? Itâs just⊠weird work stuff.â
âDepends. Are you singing the Dolly Parton or Whitney version? And real work or podcast work?â
âPodcast work, and obviously the Whitney version.â
Yoongi seems surprised by this, eyebrows disappearing beneath his fringe. âLike, the podcast with Namjoon?â He presses his tongue into the fat of his cheek when you nod your head. âNot gonna lie, I didnât think that was possible.â
âLike I said, itâs weird. It wasnât, like, an argument or anything.â
âHow weird?â
âYouâre so fake, Min Yoongi. You act like youâre so distinguished and above drama, but really youâre just as hungry for gossip as the rest of us.â
He shrugs. âIâm not denying it.â
God help you, youâre going to rip off the band-aid. âSomeone⊠Jesus, this is so embarrassing. Someone⊠wrote? Fanfiction? About us.â
âAbout you and Namjoon?â
âYeah.â
âOh my godââ
âAbout us⊠uh. Having sex? Specifically.â
âOh my godââ
âJungkook found it and thought itâd be funny if we read it for an episode.â
âOh my god?â
âSo we did? And it was really weird, which I expected, because Iâve known Namjoon for a long time, and I never, ever thought about having sex with him because we were together and me and Namjoon are friends, so yeah, it was fucking weird. But now⊠I donât know. I canât stop thinking about it? And now we canât even be in the same room as one another.â Yoongi is a concerning shade of red. âSo our show is gonna get canceled, because we can only release b-side stuff for so long until people realize somethingâs up, and it was Namjoonâs podcast to begin with so obviously Iâll get firedââ
âOh my god, you want to fuck Namjoon.â
Yoongi sounds like a strangled cat when he says this, which does not help the way you feel like youâve been hit square in the face with a frying pan. âNo,â you argue, though it sounds more like a question. You do not want to fuck Namjoon. âNo, no. No. Itâs just because it was weird.â
âDid you forget I dated you for six years? I know what you look like when you want to fuck someone.â
âYouâre telling me you wouldnât be weird if someone wrote fanfiction about you fucking your friend?â
âNot if I didnât actually want to fuck them, no.â
âYouâre a liar. Get your dog and get out of my apartment.â
Yoongi laughs as he stands. Pats you on the back in the most condescending way youâve ever had someone pat you on the back. âLet me know how it goes. No need to give me credit for your moment of horny clarity.â
Min Yoongi is a bastard.
Unfortunately, as you come to find out, heâs also a correct bastard.
You want to fuck Namjoon.
Which is⊠not great, you have to admit, considering he can barely stand to be around you, so you take another cold shower and decide youâre going to take this to your grave. Youâre going to spend the rest of the weekend getting your shit together, and youâre going to show up on Monday and be a consummate professional. Youâre going to look at Namjoon and say, ha ha, isnât it so funny someone thought we would have sex? I donât think about it at all because I am so cool and normal about it.
Youâve got it all planned out. Youâre going to show up fifteen minutes early with your own box of pastries. Youâre going to look nice, if not a little pretentiousâmaybe a nice sweater. Youâre going to be prepared with notes of your own. You might even be nice to the villain of the week so Namjoon doesnât have to pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh at you.
And then someone knocks on your door.
You find Namjoon on the other side, and all your plans immediately go to shit.
Has he always been this tall? You canât remember. You canât remember a lot of things, including how to speak, because Yoongi had launched you into a crisis of epic proportions and now hereâs the source of it, standing right in front of you. With all of his⊠height. And thighs. And that heady, musky cologne he always wears, that you can still smell now even though thereâs an unfortunate amount of distance between you.
âUh, hi.â
You blink. âHi,â you parrot, and itâs a little insulting how one single word seems to have sucked up all of your brainpower. âNamjoon,â you tack on, not awkward at all.
âSorry to just show up,â he says, scratching at the back of his neck. Very bad idea; makes his biceps bulge. You barely swallow your whimper. âItâs justâmy phoneâs still broken, and it felt bad leaving things how we did? So I was hoping we could talk.â
Talk. Namjoon wants to talk to you. Normally: not a problem. Currently: big problem. You manage a nod, open the door wider to let him in, and you donât think about how jarring it is to have Namjoon in your space. You donât think about how your legs feel like jelly all of a sudden, or what itâd be like if Namjoon bent you over the couch, or the kitchen counter, or theâ
You cough. âDo you want anything to drink?â
âOh, sure. Maybe just some water if you have it.â
If you have it. What kind of person doesnât have water? But you tell him to make himself comfortable and get him some anyway, and you mull too long over the size of the glass. Ultimately decide on a smaller one, because if things get unbearably awkward you can excuse yourself to the kitchen to get more.
âI havenât been here in a while,â Namjoon says from the living room, and when you look up heâs sorting through a stack of books near the window. Some heâd lent you months ago, notes jotted in the corners, sticky notes in the shape of sea animals on important pages. âYou ever wind up reading this?â
The Idiot. Namjoon had raved about it when he was in the midst of his 19th century Russian phase, right after heâd read a bunch of Tolstoy and Pushkin. You shake your headâthough, judging from the title, you wonder if someone hadnât written your biography.
âItâs good. If you have the time, you should definitely give it a shot.â
âYeah, of course,â you say, handing over his water. You take a seat in an armchair, pull your knees to your chest. Namjoonâs still looking through your books, isnât looking at you, so it feels safe to say, âYou wanted to talk?â
âYeah.â He moves to sit on the floor, massive thighs spreading until heâs comfortable. Thank god he canât see the look on your face. âI just wanted to make sure weâre alright. Things have felt pretty weird since we filmed the, uh.â He coughs. âThing.â
âRight, yeah.â You realize heâs waiting for an answer, and you offer up a very rushed, âWeâre fine, Joon.â
âAre you sure?â
Yeah, youâre sure: sure you absolutely cannot be having this conversation in the safety and sanctity of your own home. Itâs tainted now, contaminated by all your uncontrolled horny thoughts about the man in front of you. Youâll have to fumigate. Might have to pick up and move, actually, or call an exorcist.
âIâm sure,â you assure him. âThe⊠thing⊠was weird, but itâs fine. Temporary.â
âDo you think we shouldnât have done it?â
Thatâs the million-dollar question, isnât it? Because, in isolation, reading a porn fic about yourselves wasnât a big deal. No one got hurt. Everyone who needed to be consulted was consulted. The episode made the two of you a lot of money, and Jungkook even promised to send some of it to the author, so your bases are beyond covered.
So, should you have done it? There wasnât a good enough reason not to, because the story itself was never the problem.
The problem is staring you right in the face. Itâs sitting on your floor, a book cracked in half at the spine and forgotten in his lap. The problem is looking at you like you hold all the answers to the universeâs secrets, and itâs no small thing to be looked at like that. The problem is that Namjoon is looking at you like that from across the room but youâre wondering what itâd look like from on top of you.
The problem is that youâve co-hosted a podcast with Namjoon for three years, have known him even longer, and youâve just realized today that you want to have sex with him.
And you canât say that, can you, because Namjoon came here to fix things which really does not lend itself to a hookup. Namjoon cares about your friendship and your working relationship so much he came here to try and salvage it, so youâre going to keep your mouth shut. Youâre going to say, âI think itâs okay that we did,â and leave it at that. Because it is okay.
Because youâre the problem.
It feels like a small victory when Namjoon sags in relief. When he exhales and says, âOkay, good, because I think so, too.â
âIt made us a lot of money,â you tack on.
Namjoonâs eyes widen as he laughs. âRight? Like, that was almost too much money. Just to watch us read porn?â
âAbout ourselves. I think that was the selling point.â
He stands. You do, too. âNever thought Iâd be doing that,â he says, returning the book to where it belongs. âDefinitely the most embarrassing thing Iâve done for money.â
âBeing a man with a podcast wasnât embarrassing enough?â
He snorts. Gets closer to the door. âHey now.â Youâre going to survive this. âThanks for entertaining me, by the way. For a second there I was really worried weâd fucked it all up.â
Just the ending. Just one more thing to say and youâll be done with this, and then you can take your third cold shower in recent memory and triple text Yoongi with a full-fledged mental breakdown. Maybe heâll bring Holly back and you can register him as your emotional support animal.
And Namjoon must sense the awkwardness thatâs crept back in, because he tries to cover it with a joke. Says, âHaaa, like youâd actually piss on me, right?â
Except it sounds like heâs got a mouth full of marbles.
Itâs no wonder you mishear him.
Because he says like youâd actually piss on me but you hear like youâd actually kiss me, and there isnât a universe that exists in which the following makes sense: you, stunned into silence in the doorframe, Namjoon saying his goodbyes, you thinking fuck it, last chance and saying, âYeah, Iâd kiss you.â
Namjoon stops dead in his tracks. âWhat?â
Your entire body is on fire. âIs, uh. Is that not what you said?â
âI donât think it matters anymore what I said.â
âIâd argue that it does, for the sake of my digniââ
âYouâd kiss me?â Namjoon⊠doesnât look put off of the idea, which is surely a point in your favor. Interesting to note that his diction is crystal clear, now. Bastard. âYouâd kiss me right now?â
Thereâs also no explanation for the way you say: âItâs only been an option for ten seconds and youâre already begging for it?â
Youâd say thereâs no explanation for the way Namjoonâs jaw clenches, the way he repeats I donât beg for anything, but maybe the simple fact is: the two of you want to fuck each other. And, judging from the way Namjoon crowds your space, keeps dropping his gaze to your mouth, it seems very likely to happen.
All that fixating youâd done on Namjoonâs thighs was wasted, you think, as you take in the shape of his mouth. His lips. The way his tongue darts out to run along the bottom at the last second before he reaches out, tilts your head up, and finally presses his mouth to yours.
And youâve got to laugh, because no piece of written fiction could ever accurately portray what it feels like. How soft his lips are. The way he touches youâgentle, but still dominant enough to have you moving the way he wants, have you backing up into your apartment so he can smile against your mouth as he closes the door behind him.
No piece of fiction would get it right, the way youâre unsteady on your feet, breathless at the way Namjoonâs kissing you. How he only breaks apart long enough to ask where do you want me in that throaty, deep voice of his. How youâre so overwhelmed you canât decide: unsure if you want to waste the time itâd take to get to your bedroom, but if itâs only going to happen once, wanting to make it count.
So you decide to risk it. Plant your hands in the middle of his exceptionally broad chest and push him in the direction of the hallway, and if the two of you canât wait, canât control yourselves, well.
But the story had gotten one thing right: Namjoon does kiss like a branding iron, hot and greedy. Namjoon kisses you like thereâs nothing else he wants to do in this lifetime, and it makes you dizzy. Has you off-kilter, stumbling into the wall as you try to remember where the fuck your bedroom is and why itâs so far. Just like the fictional version of you, you also moan when he licks into your mouth.
âShould I do it the way we did in the fic?â Namjoon asks as the two of you cross the threshold into your bedroom, a cheeky grin on his face. âDo it like this?â he questions, pushing you gently until youâre on the back in the middle of your bed, chest heaving as you lift your head to look at him.
Namjoon is so, so big from where you lay, just hovering at the foot of your bed. Cheeks ruddy, bulge prominent. âWhatâd you say you wanted?â
Takes a second to remember how to breathe, let alone what youâd read. What do you want, Namjoon had asked, right before heâd sank to his knees in front of you. âWhatever youâre willing to give,â you answer.
Namjoon smiles. Puts one knee on the bed, and the way it dips beneath his weight is unsettling. Why does he have to be so fucking large. âThatâs right, baby.â Christ, you think, because thereâs another thing that fic had gotten right. No one on earth would be immune to Namjoon calling them baby in that tone of voice.
The riposte biting at the back of your teeth gets swallowed whole as Namjoon grabs your ankles and drags you to the edge of the bed. âMay I?â he asks, hands poised above the waistline of your leggings. You nod, and Namjoon drags down your underwear with them. âFuck, look at you,â he groans, awe creeping into the edge of his words.
âYou want me to do it the same way? Hm? Youâre being awfully quiet; thought you were giving me shit about being the one in charge,â he chides.
Because youâre short-circuiting. Namjoonâs on his knees, just like youâd envisioned, and his mouth is dangerously close to your cunt. How can you be expected to think and speak under these conditions? But if Namjoon can find the brainpower to be a bastard, so can you, because what youâd read and the way heâd reacted can both never be forgotten. So you thread your hands into his hair and pull. The resulting moan is enough to sustain you for years.
âAre you gonna keep running your mouth, or are you gonna make me come on it?â
He blinks. âJesus Christ.â
Thereâs precedent. Fictional Namjoon ate you out like a man starved, like he couldnât get enough. Had fictional you writhing and insatiable, so itâs a lot to live up to, but it doesnât deter him in the slightest. He hesitates for only a second, giving you one last chance to back out before the two of you set every last boundary on fire, and then heâs settling between your thighs and making you see stars.
Now you know what itâs like. Now you donât have to rely on fiction, and it doesnât matter because itâd never compare to the way Namjoon feels as he works to bring you to your ruin. The way he flattens his tongue to lick long, thick stripes; the way his lips suction around your clit. The way it feels when he groans against your core. The way he says, âFuck, you do taste good,â like thatâs a completely normal thing to say. Like he doesnât know exactly what heâs doing to you.
But you need more and Namjoon knows it. His mouth doesnât leave your cunt for a second, but his fingers find your mouth, so you put on a show. Wrap your lips around them, suck on them the way heâs doing to you, make sure theyâre slick. Namjoon groans again, doubles his efforts. Slides one thick finger inside of you and barely lets you adjust before heâs adding a second.
In an embarrassingly short amount of time, Namjoon has you unraveling. Presses incessantly on a spot that has your vision whiting out. Has you trembling, a little panicked as you say, âJoon, fuckâNamjoon, waitââ as it builds and builds and builds.
You might black out for a second, because you come to and Namjoon looks⊠stunned. He looks like he canât believe any of what just happened, and you blink a few times, try to come back into your body, and when you regain enough consciousness, youâre extremely aware of the large wet patch beneath you.
âUmââ
âHoly shit.â
âNamjoon, thatâs notâthatâs embarrassingâcan you grab aââ
He shuts you up with a kiss. Presses the taste of you into your skin, and all those silly protests die in your throat, because if Namjoon was needy before, heâs desperate now. Covers your body with his own, hips dipping down low enough to press his erection into the juncture of your thigh, and the weight of him is delicious. Has you fisting the fabric of his t-shirt to pull him closer, has you pulling it over his head, his pants following. Has your hands skimming down every thick part of his body until you reach his cock, hard and aching and slick with pre-cum.
âI need to suck you off later,â you say, done with overthinking. Time to just be honest, and Kim Namjoon has a dick you need to feel down your throat. âRemind me.â
He whines, thrusts into your hand a little harder. âHow could I forget that?â
âDonât know. Didnât know if this would be the only time,â you answer. âDid you bring a condom?â Namjoon nods, fetches one from his wallet and rolls it on.
He hovers above you again. Looks nervous, all of a sudden, like he canât tell his lefts from his rights. All out of sorts. Youâre about to tell him itâs fine, you donât have to do anything he doesnât want to, donât have to do anything at all, when he says, âIt doesnât have to be.â You just stare. âThe only time.â
Thereâs a conversation to be had. You know that. Both of you clearly have feelings you need to talk about and sort out, but you reckon they can wait. Theyâll still be there in the afterglow, in the morning. So you nod, say okay, Joon, and kiss away the insecurities that still linger.
You think about the fic. Think maybe Namjoon would appreciate it if you cracked a stupid joke, just like heâd tried to do earlier. âHas anyone ever called your cock stupid?â
He laughs, breath fanning against your skin. âNo. Wanna try it and see what happens?â
Might as well. You try to remember the exaggerated tone of voice youâd used. Repeat the lineââDo you even know what to do with that big, stupid cock?ââand wait.
Thereâs a beat of silence, and thenâ
Namjoon swallows thickly. âI, um. Unfortunately, I think that really works for me.â You laugh. Pull him closer. Wrap your legs around his waist as he starts to move against you. Has jokes of his own. âPlease. Please let me fuck you.â
You roll your eyes, laugh tapering into a giggle. âDo you know how?â Namjoon nods, looking all too much like a puppy eager to please its owner. âDo you promise?â He nods again. âOkay. Okay, come here.â
You expect him to move fast; expect the first time to be frenzied and a little awkward. It isnât. Namjoon lines himself up and pushes the smallest bit inside, and then heâs leaning down to kiss you. Threads your fingers together, squeezes your hand. Pushes further inside and mumbles praise just beneath your ear.
Itâs dizzying, the amount of care Namjoon handles you with. How soft he is. Does nothing to ease the discomfort of the stretch, the overwhelming fullness, but he talks you through it. Tells you how good you feel, how beautiful you look. Spills a lot of words youâd probably be embarrassed to hear and heâd be embarrassed to say if this was any other time, but in the heat of the moment it all just works to unravel you faster.
He bottoms out. âOkay?â he asks, and youâre rewarded with a dimpled smile when you say you are. Namjoon is a devastating kind of beautiful.
But, as he gives you time to adjust and you give him the all-clear, he also fucks like a demon. What once was hand-holding is now your wrists pinned to the bed, your body caged beneath him as he rolls his hips at a pace that has your eyes rolling back into your head. Youâve been deceived. Lured into a false sense of security.
Itâs almost a shame this isnât being recorded, because you want to memorize all the sounds Namjoonâs making. Want to hear them for the rest of your life. Donât want anyone else to be the reason he sounds like this, and as he ups his pace and presses his lips to your neck, you donât want to sound like this because of anyone else, either.
Maybe one of those times in the future, you can talk him into it.
Namjoon reaches down, rubs circles into your clit. Every time you think you might be close, he pulls his hand away, smiles like the devil. You let him have his fun for a while, let him think youâre keen to lie back and take it, and then you tighten your legs around his waist and flip him onto his back.
He doesnât think itâs very funny. Looks up at you all bewildered. âWhatâre youââ
âYou were taking too long,â you snark. âFigured Iâd take matters into my own hands.â
âYeah? Shit,â he says as you begin to move. âFuck, baby, like that. Ride me just like that.â
You do. Donât change a thing, because Namjoonâs cock is long and thick enough to hit exactly where you need it to. You can feel yourself clenching, feel yourself getting wetter, and the sight of Namjoon beneath you does nothing to stave off the inevitable. He looks even better than youâd imagined: skin flushed, eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, sweat-slick. You want to make him cry. Want to give him the entire world. You will.
Namjoon thrusts at the same time you roll your hips, and thatâs what does it. Has you crying out, has stars flashing behind your eyelids. Has you saying fuck, fuck, fuck as he drives you over the edge for the second time. Has you on the brink of oversensitive as he thrusts a few more times to chase his own end, almost delirious at the way Namjoon moans as he spills into the condom.
Has you swooning, just a bit, at the dopey way Namjoon smiles at you, eyes half-lidded and crinkled at the corners.
âWas that okay?â
You snort. âYeah, Iâd say it was decent.â
âMaybe next time you could pee on me,â he jokes.
You whack him on the chest. âSure. Or we could record it.â
Has you a little shocked at the way his cock twitches inside of you at the mention of it.
On Monday, you donât wear a pretentious sweater.
When you stroll in, Jungkookâs already got the best donut shoved halfway into his mouth because heâs a shithead. He eyes you warily, probably hoping with all his hope that you spent the weekend finding God and getting your shit together.
And then he realizes youâve got on Namjoonâs hoodie and he nearly chokes to death.
âWhat the fuck are you wearingââ
Namjoon appears at that very moment, and itâs so hard not to take credit for the way heâs glowing, the dazed smile on his face. But Jungkook notices, because Jungkook notices everything, and his gaze darts between the two of you: your hoodie, Namjoonâs face, your face. He opens his mouth, something inappropriate bound to spill out, but Namjoon beats him to the punch. âReady?â he asks you, and you nod.
Itâs seamless.
No hiccups, no awkward stuttering. Namjoon gets through the intro without a hitch, and it feels exactly like it used to. Just two friends having a conversation. Itâs obvious Jungkook still wants to say something, but after suffering through last week, he stays quiet lest he makes it worse and sends the two of you back to the bad place.
âHow was your weekend, Pipe? Do anything fun?â Namjoon rolls his lips, tries not to laugh.
So you play along. âNo, not really, just some dog sitting. How about you?â
âOh, you know me. Had another first date on Saturday.â
âDid you? Howâd it go?â
âPerfect.â
Itâs a blessing Jungkook isnât filming this, because your eyebrows raise so far they nearly disappear from your face altogether. There isnât even a hint of hesitation in Namjoonâs voice, and although you wouldâve described it the same way, hearing him say it with such conviction has you a little stunned. âWow. You gonna see her again?â
âYeah,â Namjoon says, sharing a private smile with you. âI think I am.â
who the FUCK is namjoon dating Posted by u/pod-shipper 7 minutes ago This has honestly ruined my entire day. I thought all the stories he told about dating were a bit⊠Like, what kind of guy has a podcast about relationships but canât seem to be in one? But you could just HEAR it in his voice how much he likes this woman he went on a date with over the weekend and Iâm sick to my stomach. (+2195) âł bro you and me both đ i genuinely thought him and piper had something going on fr (+1302) âł Seriously might stop listening because of this! Any woman with self-respect would never let their partner host a podcast with someone theyâre obviously in love with. If he gets serious with this woman, Piper will be gone within 6 months, mark my words. (+927) âł I wouldnât worry about it too much! My cousin works at a really nice restaurant in the same city Namjoon lives in, and she said she saw this âdateâ on Saturday and that it wasnât anything serious. (+788) âł Piper got a cat and Namjoon finally got a second date. Face it, itâs over. (+325) âł cannot believe him and piper arenât dating.. do you think i should delete all my tiktok edits? (+4) âł this is unhinged lmfao i thought yâall hated piper? youâre in here bitching abt her being a âmisandristâ every week and now ur gonna stop listening bc namjoon isnât dating her? pick a lane and stay in it (-64)
Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts, and reblogs/shares are always welcome! I appreciate you very much~ âĄ
#namjoon x reader#namjoon smut#bts fanfic#bts smut#bts x reader#namjoon fanfic#namjoon imagine#namjoon scenarios#namjoon x you#namjoon x y/n#bts imagines#bts scenarios#jewel writes
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The thing is, D&D is not a game.
I know that sounds insane, but hear me out: D&D is not a game, it is a games console. You don't actually "play D&D." You play "Dragon Heist" or "Tomb of Annihilation" or "Ghosts of Saltmarsh" or "your GM's homebrew campaign" or "the plot of Critical Role Season 1 reconstructed from memory" on D&D.
For quite a long while now - possibly literal decades - D&D hasn't even been the best games console, but it's been "the one everyone knows about" and "the one my friends have" and in fact it's "the one whose name is almost synonymous with the entire medium of TTRPGs," like how "Nintendo" or "Playstation" could just mean "games console" to people who didn't understand games consoles. They might not have heard of a "tabletop roleplaying game," but most people have heard of "Dungeons & Dragons."
For this extended metaphor, D&D is Nintendo back in the 90s, or Playstation in the 2000s. Sometimes you say "oh let's go to my house and play Nintendo" or "c'mon dude I wanna play Playstation" but you're not actually playing Nintendo or Playstation, you're playing Resident Evil or Super Mario Bros or Jurassic Park or Metal Gear Solid or whatever on a Nintendo or a Playstation.
Now, this metaphor is going to get even more tortured, but remember how when the PS2 and the original X-Box came out, they used a standardised DVD format, but the Nintendo console in that generation, the Gamecube, used discs but they were this proprietary tiny little disc format that they had control over? That essentially meant that it was really difficult to make third party titles for the Gamecube that did literally anything that Nintendo didn't want them to do, and also essentially gave Nintendo an even greater ability to skim money off the top of any sales?
So that must've seemed like a smart business decision in their heads. But the PS2 and the X-Box used DVDs. This was a standardized format which gave Microsoft and Sony way less control over who made games for their consoles, but that actually turned out to be a good thing for gaming, because it meant that the breadth of games that you could play on their consoles was massively increased even if some of them were games Microsoft and Sony didn't really approve of. (Also it's worth nothing that the PS2 and the X-Box could just play DVDs, which meant if your household was on a budget, you didn't need a separate DVD player - your games console could do it for you! This was actually a huge selling point!)
What Wizards are currently trying to do now is kinda-sorta the equivalent of Sony suddenly announcing that the PS5 will only accept a proprietary cartridge format they hold the patent on, will control the content of and charge money for the construction of. This possibly seems like it could be a moneymaker in your head because you hold market dominance (apparently the PS5 has 30 million units shipped compared to X-Box Series X 20 million units) and so many people make games for your console, but what it actually means is game devs and publishers will abandon your product. If it takes so much more work, the scope of what they're allowed to do is so much more limited and they're going to make less money off of it, they just won't bother. They'll go make games for the X-Box or PC instead.
To use another computer metaphor, D&D is Windows - it might not be the best system but it's the system most people are familiar with and so it gets the most stuff made for it, but there's is an upper limit on the bullshit people will take before they decide fuck it and get an Apple or learn how Linux works.
TTRPG systems are a weird product because you're not selling people a game, you're selling people a method to play a game. All the actual games are created by the community - even prewritten campaigns needs to be executed via a game master. Trying to skim money off the community will mean they'll eventually give up on you.
#open gaming license#dungeons and dragons#ogl#ogl 1.1#opendnd#wizards of the coast#one dnd#d&d#dnd#tabletop gaming#tabletop roleplaying games#ttrpgs
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â DAMAGED GOODS
PAIRING â Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Rabban/Harkonnen!OC
SUMMARY â The servants have been telling Baron Harkonnen many times before that the relationship between his young heir and his twin sister is close. Very close. Too close. The Baron only chuckles at that. He couldnât care less, as long as Feyd-Rautha is a warrior he wants him to be and his sister remains out of his sight.
REQUEST â (1)
AUTHORâS NOTE â The Reader is a Rabban/Harkonnen. I've described some of her looks â her skin is pale but not because she is *white* but because they're all pale (due to the pollution and lack of normal sunlight I guess). She has hair but it's white. I didn't describe the structure of her hair or anything and the colour is caused by the lack of pigment. Her facial features are not described in any way. Oh, and she has black teeth, too... đ It will be explained in the fic. I tried to make it an x Reader fic but, yeah, quite a lot about her looks is described. On the other hand, I hope it's understandable since she's Feyd's twin. I am very happy that I received this request because I've been itching to write something like that for a long time. đ€
WARNINGS â INCEST, SMUT, non/dub-con, breeding
WORD COUNT â 6,610
đ THIS FIC IS 18+ đ
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
DAMAGED GOODS
Baron Harkonnen was ready to leave Lankiveil with his two nephews â small Feyd-Rautha in one of the female servantsâ arms and teenage Glossu on whose shoulder The Baron was keeping his hand on. He didnât have any heirs of his own so one day heâd name one of the boys his Na-Baron and give them his Harkonnen surname.
They nearly reached the ship when one of the female servants of Lankiveil ran up to them with a small bundle in her arms.
âMy Lord,â she called out and The Baron turned around, irritated. The woman was terrified of him but she still had her duties. âWhat about the girl, my Lord?â She asked.
The Baron squinted his eyes at the child in her arms. Feyd-Rauthaâs twin sister (Y/N) Rabban â he had no use for her.
âGive her to the Bene Gesserit or kill her, I do not care,â he commented as Glossuâs muscles stiffened under his uncleâs touch.
âShe is my sister,â his eyes widened at those words. âPlease, let her come with us.â
âYou will soon realise that women on Giedi Prime hold no significance. A girlâŠâ Baron Vladimir winced. âI do not wish to raise her. She will be a burden.â
âThen I will raise her. I will take care of her,â Glossu pleaded. âAnd one day you will find her a match, someone to marry to create a powerful alliance. She will be useful,â he kept convincing.
The Baron wanted to be feared even amongst his family members. But he didnât want to be hated by his older nephew from the first day. Irritated, he sighed and waved his hand at the maid.
âFine, I shall take her,â he sighed.
Hesitantly, the maid handed the child to Glossu Rabban as his uncle gave him a scolding look.
âYouâre responsible for her now,â he reminded.
âShe is my sister. Her place is with me and Feyd,â Rabban nodded.
About this one thing he was stubborn and about this one thing he would fight even his own uncle. Baron Vladimir decided it would be for the best to let the boy have it his way.
(Y/N) and Feyd were raised differently â he was raised to be a strong warrior and his uncleâs pet. Relentless in combat, obedient to his Master, an enjoyer of pain. Inflicting it on others but also the pain being inflicted upon him. Psychotic and murderous. His twin sister was kept away from such an environment by her older brother. He wanted her to become a grand lady. Of course Glossu Rabban had no idea about womenâs education but he made sure that his little sister had dozens of tutors. The smarter and more courteous she was, the easier it would be to sell her in a marriage union one day. It didnât mean she was easy to manage. Ever since she was a little girl, she would cause trouble by following her twin brother everywhere and wanting to be as mischievous as him. He was given the Harkonnen surname and the title of na-baron. She was just Countess (Y/N) Rabban. Many thought she was actually Glossu Rabbanâs daughter. Despite being raised differently, her and Feyd were inseparable.
They were not identical twins â she was a splitting image of her mother while he remained a mix of both parents. He was born bald like most of The Harkonnens, she was lucky to keep her hair even though it lacked pigment and was snowy white. The only thing in common they had was their sickly pale Harkonnen skin⊠and their blood.
The servants had been telling The Baron many times before that the relationship between his young heir and his sister was close. Very close. Too close. The Baron would only chuckle at that. He couldnât care less, as long as Feyd-Rautha was a warrior he wanted him to be and his sister remained out of his sight and out of big trouble that would require him to intervene.
(Y/N)âs chambers were connected to Feydâs with the tall, black doors. In fact, they resided in the chambers of The Baron and The Baroness Harkonnen. These chambers had not been used in many years before Feyd was given them by his uncle in his teenage years. It was only natural that (Y/N) followed to the room attached to his. But most mornings, the servants would not find her in her bed. She was being found in her brotherâs embrace, their legs intertwined, her hands wrapped around his muscular chest. As if they were still two embryos in their motherâs womb.
She could swear, she could feel pain when he was experiencing it. And out of them two, only he enjoyed it. It brought her no pleasure to see his scars from their uncleâs punishments. She would kiss them all better, every thin line of scarred flesh upon his back would be soothed with her lips. She loved to watch him train, following him around like a puppy at first but then she grew to be a fine woman herself and she no longer gave such innocent energy. All the years of trying to be invisible for her uncle had taught her how to slither around the fortress like a snake; always observant, always on guard, always quiet and unnoticeable.Â
(Y/N) focused so hard on not being a bother for her uncle that she forgot other people might notice her, too.
The Baron was staring at the veiled old woman in front of him with a contemptuous smirk. Of course he would follow the Bene Gesserit's order in the end whether he wanted it or not but he needed her to see that he was not as easy to control as most of the lesser lords.
âWhat are you asking of me, woman?â He asked as he looked her up and down.
The Bene Gesserit sighed. She knew perfectly well that he had heard her before.
âI want to put Countess Rabban to the test of Gom Jabbar to see if sheâs fit for the marriage union that shall be arranged between her and Prince Paul Atreides,â she repeated her words.
âI am not fond of that girl but she is the closest thing to a daughter I have ever had,â The Baron shook his head. âWhat makes you think I would give her away to an Atreides?â
âAtreides was supposed to have a daughter who would be a match for your nephew Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. His concubine gave him a son instead but it doesnât have to mean the match cannot be arranged. After all, Feyd-Rautha has a twin sister sharing his genetic material with him.â
âAnd what do I get of this union?â The Baron snorted.
âControl over your enemy; The Atreides family,â the Bene Gesserit nodded her head.
âControl over them? By sending that girl over there?â The Baron laughed at the idea. âSheâs a weak woman. She wonât have control over anything.â
âPaul Atreides is a boy of a gentle nature, I have tested him already. Countess Rabban will easily push him in all the directions you will ask her to,â the woman tried to convince The Baron. He knew that if heâd argue even further she would just use The Voice.
âAlright then,â he shrugged his arms. âPut her to a test. If she dies, youâll be the one breaking the news to her brothers. I wonât deal with their pathetic tears.â
Feyd didnât know where his sister was. It was unusual for her not to wait in her chambers in the evening. Either way, he ordered the servants to fill the bathtub with water and then told them to leave as he sank into the warm liquid after a long day filled with combat training.
The doors opened after a while and (Y/N) entered the room. She had an odd expression on her face as if she was bothered with something and he spotted a few beads of sweat upon her forehead.
âWhere were you?â Feyd squinted his eyes at her.
âThe Bene Gesserit asked me to join her for a while. She did something weird to me,â she answered as she worked on her dress swiftly to take it off as quickly as possible.
âWhat do you mean weird?â Feyd tilted his head as he watched her undress. The folds of her skirt and bodice fell down to the floor and revealed her smooth skin and all the curves.
He had asked his older brother about their mother only once. His question had been about her looks. âWhat did she look like?â, young Feyd had asked. And all Glossu had answered was â âJust look at our sisterâ.
âShe put me to a test. Youâd like it,â (Y/N) smirked at him as she turned around to face him and join him in the bathtub. âIt was painful,â she admitted and leaned her back on the edge, facing him. She let out a relaxed moan at the feeling of the warm water.
âShe hurt you,â Feydâs question was more of a statement as his jaw clenched.
âIâm fine,â (Y/N) let out a laugh at his reaction. âSuch a strong warrior you are and look at you, your older sister is your weakness,â she teased.
âTwenty minutes older,â Feyd scoffed as she chuckled at his annoyance. âAge does not matter, I could snap your neck in a second, dear sister. You have no idea how to defend yourself,â he pointed out angrily.
âGrumpy, grumpy, Feyd,â she giggled as she moved closer to him and sat astride him. Her hands caressed his muscular chest. âDonât be so sure Iâm that helpless⊠Iâve been watching you train my whole life. Iâve learnt a thing or two,â she lowered her face to whisper into his ear.
He felt his cock twitching at the feeling of her body on his; her sweet breath on his ear, her whisper sending shivers down his spine. He knew she didnât mind. In fact, she was feeding off of his desire; teasing him mercilessly over and over. One thing Rabban had made very clear was that she could not be touched by any man before her wedding. But it did not mean that Feyd hadnât been fantasising about it many times before.
She was an absolute perfection. She was like a reflection in the mirror. And who could be more beautiful and breathtaking than Feyd-Rautha himself? She was his missing part like he was hers. They completed each other in many ways but in other ways they were exactly the same. Their heartbeats and breaths were in sync, their desires were the same and he could not tell anymore whether he craved her because of the strong resemblance or had he been the one to spoil her. His childhood experience full of violence and cruelty turned him into a hypersexual predator who would fuck anything and anyone. He had been the first one to put the sexual context into their innocent touches and kisses. On the other hand, she had played along very quickly.
In the whole wide world, his twin sister was the only person who knew and understood him. They had no secrets with each other.
âYouâre getting too excited, brother,â she pointed out with a smirk as she threw her arms around his neck. He looked up at her face looming over his. She was even more beautiful like that â on top of him, in control.
âYouâre mine,â he let out a raspy whisper as she raised one of her white eyebrows at him. âYouâre mine and only mine. Forever,â he breathed out.
âThatâs an interesting concept, Feyd-Rautha,â she smiled, âbut you do know that our brother is raising me to be another manâs lady.â
âYou will be my Baroness and if our brother stands in the way of that happening, I will slay him,â Feyd threatened and his sister moved uncomfortably at his words.
âStop talking nonsense,â she rose up to leave the bathtub already but Feyd grabbed her by her hair and pulled her down again as she hissed out of discomfort. He hated to inflict pain on her out of all the people but sometimes he just⊠had to.
âI do mean that,â he drawled as her eyes widened at him.
âI know,â she only said and he licked his lips at the sight of her chest rising up and down as she breathed heavily. He let go of her and watched her leave the bathtub and the bathroom without a word.
Feyd left the bathtub, too. He put on a simple black robe and went back to his room. His sister was laying on his bed, completely naked and playing with one of his short knives in her hands. He sighed with relief at the sight. He expected her to be offended and go to her room before locking the doors for the night.
âIâll be back in a while,â he told her and approached the doors leading to the corridor. She snorted and he froze.
âYouâre like a dog, dear brother. You men are so easy to control with your sexual urges and desires,â she commented and Feyd clenched his jaw as he turned his head around to look at her.
âIâm trying very hard not to violate you. Donât tease,â he warned.
âYour own sister?â She grinned, showing off her black teeth.
As a child, she had insisted on dyeing them just like her twin brother. Glossu had refused â it would make her look less appealing for the future suitors. Even The Baron had told her it had not been the best idea. (Y/N) had not listened. She had sneaked into the medical wing and had done it herself. At twelve years old she had ruined herself for the first time for Feyd-Rautha.
That had been the only time when Glossu had actually punished her physically. Feyd still remembered because he had been waiting for her by the doors leading to his brotherâs chambers. She had been screaming and kicking her feet while getting her arse spanked. After leaving the room, she had sniffled all the tears back and grinned at Feyd with her new black smile. âIâve gotten my arse whooped,â she had told him proudly as if it was an achievement.
Some time later she had been caught wanting to shave her head off but it was Feyd this time who had stopped her â telling her how much he loved it, how it was making her look different than all the other women around. How much power that hair was giving her. It had made her hesitantly put the scissors down.
And now, Feyd did not answer her teasing accusation as he left the bedroom to go to his concubines, leaving his sister alone. He would join her later, when she would already be asleep. Heâd pull her closer and sheâd open her arms to welcome him. Heâd fall asleep caressing the soft curves of her body and feeling her heartbeat pressed to his.
Two weeks later he trained as usual while (Y/N) sat nearby and watched. She would clap her hands excitedly each time heâd succeed and make a boo sound each time heâd lose. There was lots of mockery in her exaggerated reactions but he couldnât imagine training without her around anymore.
At the sight of his brother entering the courtyard, Feyd lowered his blade and gave him an unpleasant look.
âWhat do you want? Why are you interrupting me?â He asked Glossu.
âI am not here for you,â his brother extended his hand towards their sister. â(Y/N), come with me. It is important,â he insisted and she whined. âOur uncle requires your presence.â
âWhy?â Feyd barked. He did not like the idea of his uncle wanting something from his sister.
âIt is none of your business, Feyd,â Glossu snapped at him and a second later he already had his brotherâs knife pressed to his neck.
âEverything regarding (Y/N) is a business of mine,â Feyd hissed.
âLeave him alone,â she approached them as she ordered her twin brother. He took a step back and lowered the blade but only because it was her ordering him. She would always defend Glossu in all the arguments between the brothers. Feyd knew why â their older brother had been the closest thing to a father she had. He protected her, too. And that was the only thing Glossu and Feyd had in common. The love for their sister.
But only one of them loved her⊠so much.
She put her hands around Glossuâs arm and allowed him to lead her out of the courtyard. Feyd waved his hand dismissively at the servant he had been fighting with as he decided to follow them.
âYour presence was not requested,â his brother remarked.
âDonât tease him so,â (Y/N) scolded him and he shut his mouth.
Glossu led them to the throne room where their uncle was sitting. But he was not alone. He had guests. Feyd and (Y/N) recognised them immediately from the pictures. The Atreides family â dignified and regally looking Duke Leto Atreides with his beautiful concubine Lady Jessica of The Bene Gesserit. Between them there was a young man standing â their son, Prince Paul Atreides. He was visibly trying to put on a brave face but he was scared and his eyes avoided the siblings who had just entered the room.
âAh, here they are,â The Baron beckoned them over with his hand as he announced them. âMy eldest nephew Count Glossu Rabban and his beloved younger sister, my niece, Countess (Y/N) Rabban.â
She let go of her older brotherâs hand and stepped out to bow down slightly. Feyd sneered at that. He always would whenever sheâd act like a lady â like their brother and uncle wanted her to. Like she had been taught to ever since she was a little girl.
âThat insolent young man standing behind her is my heir and (Y/N)âs twin brother, Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,â The Baron gave Feyd a scolding look.
âIt is a pleasure to meet you, my Lords, my Lady,â Duke Leto nodded his head at all of the siblings.
â(Y/N), child, come closer,â The Baron cooed to her unusually. He would often put on such a show in front of important guests as if he wasnât treating her like air most of the time. But Feyd was glad that his uncle actually ignored his sister. Otherwise it would be more difficult to protect her.
She approached the guests with furrowed brows, visibly confused by this situation. Feydâs heart already squeezed inside of his chest as he had a feeling what that was about.
âYou will be married to Prince Paul Atreides,â The Baron informed her as if it was nothing.
Feyd looked at Glossu first but his brother did not look surprised at all. He had to know already and it made Feyd feel even angrier as he treated it as betrayal. He shot his uncle a furious glance and then he laid his eyes on his twin sister. To his surprise, she was smiling softly at the shy and gently looking young man.
âIt is a great honour,â she bowed her head and Paul Atreides flinched a little. She noticed it. âDo not be scared of me, my Lord,â she chuckled delicately. âI am nothing like my brothers.â
Feyd gritted his teeth. Without a word â rudely and risking his uncleâs punishment â he turned around and left the room.
He saw her again in the evening. He had been training intensely for the past few hours, trying to let the frustration go. The doors leading to her bedroom were ajar and he peeked inside. (Y/N) was packing her things into black wooden chests.
âWhat are you doing?â Feyd asked her as his blood ran cold.
âI shall take a different room from now on. It is inappropriate for us to share one,â she muttered without even looking up at him.
âSince when do you care?â Feyd leaned on the wall and watched her carefully, trying not to show how much he was panicking on the inside.
âSince I am getting married soon,â she shrugged her arms and he snorted at her.
âYou really think Iâm going to allow this union, dear sister?â He asked and she turned her face around with her brows furrowed.
âYou have nothing to say in that matter, brother,â she reminded him. âYou are nothing but our uncleâs pet. The psychotic and fearsome Feyd-Rautha⊠If only they knew that youâre not scary at all,â she remarked as his jaw clenched.
âI will kill him if I must. That boy, Paul Atreides,â Feyd threatened.
âWe both know you will not. It would have consequences greater than you and I can even imagine,â she smiled but he noticed the curls of her lips twitching. She was nervous.
âHow can you not oppose this marriage?â Feyd let his guard down as he asked genuinely, expecting an answer just as honest.
His sisterâs facial expression changed as well. She approached him and cupped his face in her delicate, soft hands.
âIâve always known I would leave Giedi Prime eventually. I could only hope for a good husband and Paul Atreides is good. He is young and pretty and naive. My life as his Duchess will be easy and pleasant,â she explained softly. âIâve always known I would leave Giedi Prime and I couldnât wait for that day. I want to⊠No, I need to get away from here⊠from you,â she whispered as his eyes widened at her revelation. âYouâre poisonous, Feyd-Rautha. You have spoiled me already, ruined me, stained me. And everywhere I go, our uncleâs sticky spiderweb surrounds me, suffocates me,â she finished before leaning in to place a gentle goodbye kiss upon his lips.
She wanted to move away but he grabbed her cheeks and aggressively pulled her closer once again, kissing her yet again but possessively and hungrily. She didnât kiss him back this time.
When he finally let go of her, they were both breathing heavily but there was nothing but anger in their eyes.
âStay away from me and stay away from Paul Atreides,â she warned her brother and he walked out of her room before slamming the doors behind him, furiously.
But Feyd did not stay away. Whenever he was not in the courtyard, training vigorously and slaying his opponents one after another with the ferocity he had not displayed before, he would follow (Y/N) and her husband-to-be around the fortress. He didnât trust any servant to spy on them for him, no, he had to do it himself.
Paul Atreides was left alone for two weeks on Giedi Prime and after that time he would take the Countess with him to Caladan. He was scared of his betrothedâs planet as he was widening his eyes at everything as she explained to him gently. Usually Feyd was catching them in the maze of countlessly corridors as they walked together. Soft laughter of his sister occasionally filled the cold marble walls.Â
He was nearly always there; creeping in the shadows, watching, observing, gritting his teeth at her every smile or blush. Paul Atreides, visibly scared of her at first, was slowly starting to get used to her presence. And one day he dared to lean in and steal a delicate kiss from her lips.
Feyd clenched his fists at the sight as he was hiding behind the pillar. His sisterâs lips had never been kissed before by any man other than him. His blood boiled when he realised that not only Paul Atreides would kiss her but also claim her as his own and put his weak and pathetic heirs inside her womb.
No, that could not happen. She was made for him, she was his other half. Feyd-Rautha would not let any other man take her away from him.
He turned around and quietly went to the living quarters where he found the room that now belonged to his sister. He barked at the servant girls to leave him and they ran away, startled by his anger. Once he was alone in (Y/N)âs bedroom, he patiently waited.
After a while, he heard her footsteps down the corridor. He would recognise them everywhere. He stood behind the doors as his heart pounded in his chest from the anticipation.
She pushed the doors open and walked inside, looking around for her servant girls. Feyd was standing behind her and observing her carefully, wondering when sheâd notice him.
âI know youâre here,â she sighed without looking back. âI can recognise your stench,â she drawled.
He growled at her insolent words as he swiftly moved forward and grabbed her by her hair, pulling it by the roots and making her hiss out of pain. He pulled her closer to him, rested her body on his and smirked while pressing his cheek to hers.
âYouâve never seemed to complain about my scent before, dear sister,â he pointed out.
âI meant that you stink of sweat and blood at this very moment,â she fixed herself, still wincing out of pain he was inflicting upon her. ïżœïżœWhat do you want from me?â
âI saw you with him,â he breathed out.
âI know. I see you in the shadows every time,â she sneered. âI recommend finding a different hobby.â
âYouâre mine. If you think Iâm going to let you leave Giedi Prime, carry his surname and bear his filthy Atreides children in your womb, then you are mistaken, sister,â Feyd whispered angrily into her ear before biting on her earlobe.
She did not answer but in her eyes he spotted fear. Real fear, not her usual playful demeanour. For the first time in her life she was truly scared of her twin brother. Perhaps for the first time she understood why others feared him.
Still holding her by her white hair, he walked her to the bed and threw her on it. She immediately tried to crawl away and run away from him but he grabbed her ankle and watched her struggle with a smirk.
âLeave me alone,â she tried to command him. And usually he would listen to her orders but not now, too blinded by jealousy.
In one swift movement he brought her closer by her ankle and tore her dress and underwear open with his small knife. She looked up at him with anger, fear and a dose of excitement that made him smirk. Her body betrayed her â she wanted it, too.Â
He was rock hard already at the sight of her like that for him. She was like a prey on display for him to feast upon. Feyd licked his lips and turned her around. He took his cock out of his leather pants as she tried to stand up on her shaky hands and legs to get away. Before sheâd move too far, he pulled her close once again with a laugh.
âYouâre not going anywhere,â he threatened and pressed his blade under her chin.
On her hands and knees with her beautiful white hair resting on her back â he had been dreaming of claiming her from behind this way for years now. She was trembling out of fear and anger but she couldnât scream for help when his blade was so close to her larynx.
âYouâre beautiful,â he whispered as he leaned in closer to her ear. âYouâre my other half.â
He felt her swallowing thickly under his blade as he smirked to himself and moved the knife away. Before she could scream, he pushed her head down into her pillow, muffling any sound that would leave her mouth.
âNo Atreides will fuck you. No other man will at all, for that matter,â he barked at her, his cock twitching already at the sight of her exposed womanhood. âYouâre mine,â he reminded her.
She tried to protest but he couldnât understand the words she was saying. He pressed her head even deeper into the pillow and with his free hand he ran across her folds, finding her clit and pinching it as she squealed and kicked her feet.
She was so delicate and sensitive, his dear sister. He took a deep breath in as he was starting to get dizzy from the sight and smell alone. He worked his fingertips around her sweet spot and noticed her muscles relaxing as her will to fight him off started to subdue gradually. At the first feeling of her warm wetness, he gathered it and brought his fingers to his mouth. Feyd hummed at the taste.
âDo you know what you taste like?â He asked her angrily and pulled her hair again. She shook her head. âLike me,â he pointed out. âBecause we belong together,â he reminded her and she whined.
He couldnât wait any longer. He needed her now. He pumped his hard cock a few times before lining it up with her tight hole. Feyd nearly felt bad for his sweet sister, for the pain she would experience now. But no feeling was stronger than his lust.
He entered her in one deep thrust while she yelped and writhed; even the pillow was not able to muffle the pathetic sound leaving her mouth. He closed his eyes at the feeling of her warm and tight walls spasming around his length. She was perfect, she was made for him and him only. They were finally complete again; one body, one soul.
âYou will rule with me as my Baroness,â he hissed as his hips began to thrust into her. âWe will bring back the old traditions, keep our bloodline pure. And you will give me heirs,â he crooned to her maliciously. âYou were made to do that, sweet sister. Made for me. Me,â he kept repeating.
She drooled and sobbed into the soft silky pillow as her hands were clutching on the sheets. She was helpless under him but what she hated the most was that part of her that did not want him to stop. That part of her that felt the same way as her brother â complete at the feeling of him fucking her. Like she was finally connected to the long lost part of her body.
Her eyes rolled to the back of her head with each of his thrust, filling her so thoroughly, making her feel full and overwhelmed as he was hitting all the right spots inside of her. She knew that sweet and gentle Paul Atreides would never claim her this way. No one would. Only her twin brother knew how to please her. He understood her more than anybody else.
He spoiled her, he ruined her, he was poisonous. But who said she didnât want it? Her body betrayed her as it admitted that she craved it.
What she feared were the consequences of this act. The consequences of breaking the fragile truce with The Atreides, the consequences of breaking up the engagement that had been not only prepared by The Baron himself but also plotted by the dangerous Bene Gesserit.
None of it mattered, though. None of it was important with Feyd's cock buried so deep inside of her, his hand pushing her face into the pillow and making her suffocate slightly, which only enhanced the pleasure. His free hand was squeezing her hip and marking it as he grunted and cooed to her all those blasphemous promises about their shared life together, their compatibility, their bodies being made for one another.
She came first; suddenly and without a warning. Her body spasmed and trembled as her limbs went numb. At the feeling of her tight walls fluttering around his cock, Feyd reached his peak right after but he did not pull out for a long time, emptying himself as deep inside of her as he could; straight into her womb.
His sister whined at the feeling of his thick, black cum coating her walls but now, after his release, most of his anger was gone as well, so he just caressed her head and shushed her.
âShh, dear sister, just take it like you were made to,â he cooed and she didnât have any strength in her body to fight it anymore.
When he eventually pulled out, he watched her pussy twitching deliciously as a small streamlet of his black cum leaked out of it and stained her grey sheets, mixing with a few droplets of blood.
âNow, when youâve been claimed by me,â Feyd smirked to himself proudly as he hid his cock back into his pants, âno other man will want you. Not when youâre surely carrying my spawn in your womb,â he added and left the room without a word.
He refused to watch her laying there and sobbing silently, trying to collect her breath and clumsily stand up to go to the bathroom. Some part of him regretted his act and seeing his beloved sister in such a state was bringing him no pleasure. He couldnât take this back now, though, and he didnât want to. It just had to be done.
The room was dead silent. Old Bene Gesserit woman was staring at Countess Rabban in disbelief and the young woman held her head down with her hands clasped around her abdomen as if she was protecting her spawn from The Reverend Motherâs gaze.
Both Baron Harkonnen and Duke Atreides looked displeased but only the second one was also visibly disgusted. His son was standing by his side; shocked and scared. Saddened. Disappointed.
Glossu Rabbanâs face showed nothing but disappointment and disgust as well. His anger was aimed mostly at his younger brother. He refused to believe his sister could be as rotten as Feyd-Rautha â the only person in the room who actually looked proud as he straightened himself and smirked at everyone gathered inside.
âWhat are you smiling about, boy?â The Reverend Mother scolded him. âHave you got any idea what you have done?â
âIâve claimed my sister as my own. It is an old tradition of the Great Houses to practise,â he reminded her.
âWhich was abandoned a long time ago for a reason!â The Bene Gesserit snapped at him. âYour sister was supposed to give birth to Paul Atreidesâ son and bring Kwisatz Haderach to life!â
âI do not care about your schemes,â Feyd rolled his eyes as he moved closer to his sister.
âStay away from her,â Glossu barked.
âOr what? Sheâs already carrying my child inside of her, is she not?â Feyd asked, proudly as most of the room flinched with disgust.
âShe can still bear Kwisatz Haderach,â The Baron tried to desperately save the situation. âWe can get rid of that spawn inside of her and still give her to Paul Atreides. Obviously, not as a wife anymore,â he assured Duke Leto. âAs a whore that she apparently is.â
Feyd clenched his jaw at his words as he took a step ahead of (Y/N) and covered her body with his from the sight.
âOver my dead body any of you will touch my sister or my child,â he drawled through gritted teeth.
âInbreeding your bloodline might have morbid consequences,â The Reverend Mother informed him. âSheâs carrying a demon.â
Feyd snorted at her. Was he supposed to be scared of her words? They only made him even more proud.
At those words, Baron Harkonnen squinted his eyes at the Bene Gesserit woman. He visibly liked the idea of having demonic heirs as well.
âI've changed my mind. We will not get rid of the child,â he decided. âFeyd-Rautha is my na-baron. If he chooses to marry his twin sister, then that is his right,â he said.
âThat is plain disrespect!â Duke Leto raised his voice. âWe have agreed to this union despite the bride being⊠not of the best quality. We have brought our son here, to this poisoned planet and nothing but humiliation awaited him here.â
Duke Leto pushed his son lightly in the direction of the doors as they walked out, offended. The guards looked at The Baron Harkonnen questioningly.
âLet them go,â he chuckled. âSoon, their time will come anyway.â
âNot before we secure young Paul Atreidesâ bloodline!â The Reverend Mother widened her eyes at him as she ran after Duke Leto. âMy Lord, please wait, I have another brides to offer that will suit your son just rightâŠ!â Her voice disappeared when the heavy doors closed behind them all.
âSo, itâs settled,â Baron Harkonnen took a look at his nephews and niece as he puffed on his pipe and sighed. âYou owe me for that, Feyd,â he pointed out and his young nephew bowed down. âI knew that you children would bring me nothing but trouble.â
âI am sorry!â Glossu exclaimed all of sudden as everyone looked at him, surprised. âI am sorry for failing, uncle! I was supposed to look after her, to protect her, to make sure everything goes rightâŠâ
âBut everything did go right,â Baron Harkonnen laughed contemptuously. â(Y/N), darling, come hereâŠâ He reached his hand out and the young woman nodded her head before approaching her uncle, obediently. âWhen you were a little baby, I wanted to get rid of you,â he admitted as he held her hand. âYour brother Glossu was the one to convince me you would be useful one day. He swore to raise you.â
(Y/N) didnât react to those words. She only stood there and looked deep into her uncleâs eyes.
âTurns out he was right,â The Baron continued, âyou are very useful for The House Harkonnen. You will bear us strong heirs that shall take over the whole EmpireâŠâ He hummed and she nodded. âFrom now on, even before your wedding to your brother, you will be known as Countess (Y/N) Harkonnen. I adopt you,â he announced as her eyes sparkled.
âThank you, uncle,â she let go of his hand to take a step back and bow her head down.
Feyd stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. Glossu was staring at them as if he wanted to kill them both at that moment. Even his baby sister whom he had raised was suddenly more important in the family hierarchy than him.
âYou have my blessing,â The Baron told them and dismissed them all with a wave of his hand.
Feyd walked his sister out of the throne room with his hands still on her shoulders. He was as protective as ever with her now when she was in her delicate state.
He took her back to their shared chambers to which she had returned recently. He sat her down on the edge of his bed and approached the vanity table to get a brush before sitting behind her and taking care of her long, white hair. Delicately working on every small tangle, sniffing the scent of her favourite hair oils, smiling to himself at the thought he would have her for himself forever from now on.
âAre you happy, dear sister?â He asked as he gathered her hair to throw it out of her left shoulder and place a kiss on the exposed skin of her neck.
âWe belong together,â she answered, her hands still clasped on her abdomen protectively as if that demonic spawn inside of her needed protection. âI was made for you,â she added.
She would not get away from Giedi Prime. She would not be given to any lord and run away from The Harkonnens. In fact, now she was a Harkonnen, too. Her fate was to rule alongside Feyd-Rautha as his sister-wife.
âI asked, are you happy, dear sister?â He repeated the question, squinting his eyes at her.
She took a deep breath in. She knew that he would know if she lied to him but she didnât feel the need to hide anything from him. Therefore, she spoke the truth:
âI am.â
MASTERLIST
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Boeingâs deliberately defective fleet of flying sky-wreckage
I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TOMORROW (May 2) in WINNIPEG, then Calgary (May 3), Vancouver (May 4), Tartu, Estonia, and beyond!
Boeing's 787 "Dreamliner" is manufactured far from the company's Seattle facility, in a non-union shop in Charleston, South Carolina. At that shop, there is a cage full of defective parts that have been pulled from production because they are not airworthy.
Hundreds of parts from that Material Review Segregation Area (MRSA) were secretly pulled from that cage and installed on aircraft that are currently plying the world's skies. Among them, sections 47/48 of a 787 â the last four rows of the plane, along with its galley and rear toilets. As Moe Tkacik writes in her excellent piece on Boeing's lethally corrupt culture of financialization and whistleblower intimidation, this is a big ass chunk of an airplane, and there's no way it could go missing from the MRSA cage without a lot of people knowing about it:
https://prospect.org/infrastructure/transportation/2024-04-30-whistleblower-laws-protect-lawbreakers/
More: MRSA parts are prominently emblazoned with red marks denoting them as defective and unsafe. For a plane to escape Boeing's production line and find its way to a civilian airport near you with these defective parts installed, many people will have to see and ignore this literal red flag.
The MRSA cage was a special concern of John "Swampy" Barnett, the Boeing whistleblower who is alleged to have killed himself in March. Tkacik's earlier profile of Swampy paints a picture of a fearless, stubborn engineer who refused to go along to get along, refused to allow himself to become inured to Boeing's growing culture of profits over safety:
https://prospect.org/infrastructure/transportation/2024-03-28-suicide-mission-boeing/
Boeing is America's last aviation company and its single largest exporter. After the company was allowed to merge with its rival McDonnell-Douglas in 1997, the combined company came under MDD's notoriously financially oriented management culture. MDD CEO Harry Stonecipher became Boeing's CEO in the early 2000s. Stonecipher was a protege of Jack Welch, the man who destroyed General Electric with cuts to quality and workforce and aggressive union-busting, a classic Mafia-style "bust-out" that devoured the company's seed corn and left it a barren wasteland:
https://qz.com/1776080/how-the-mcdonnell-douglas-boeing-merger-led-to-the-737-max-crisis
Post-merger, Boeing became increasingly infected with MDD's culture. The company chased cheap, less-skilled labor to other countries and to America's great onshore-offshore sacrifice zone, the "right-to-work" American south, where bosses can fire uppity workers who balked at criminal orders, without the hassle of a union grievance.
Stonecipher was succeeded by Jim "Prince Jim" McNerney, ex-3M CEO, another Jack Welch protege (Welch spawned a botnet of sociopath looters who seized control of the country's largest, most successful firms, and drove them into the ground). McNerney had a cute name for the company's senior engineers: "phenomenally talented assholes." He created a program to help his managers force these skilled workers â everyone a Boeing who knew how to build a plane â out of the company.
McNerney's big idea was to get rid of "phenomenally talented assholes" and outsource the Dreamliner's design to Boeing's suppliers, who were utterly dependent on the company and could easily be pushed around (McNerney didn't care that most of these companies lacked engineering departments). This resulted in a $80b cost overrun, and a last-minute scramble to save the 787 by shipping a "cleanup crew" from Seattle to South Carolina, in the hopes that those "phenomenally talented assholes" could save McNerney's ass.
Swampy was part of the cleanup crew. He was terrified by what he saw there. Boeing had convinced the FAA to let them company perform its own inspections, replacing independent government inspectors with Boeing employees. The company would mark its own homework, and it swore that it wouldn't cheat.
Boeing cheated. Swampy dutifully reported the legion of safety violations he witnessed and was banished to babysit the MRSA, an assignment his managers viewed as a punishment that would isolate Swampy from the criminality he refused to stop reporting. Instead, Swampy audited the MRSA, and discovered that at least 420 defective aviation components had gone missing from the cage, presumably to be installed in planes that were behind schedule. Swampy then audited the keys to the MRSA and learned that hundreds of keys were "floating around" the Charleston facility. Virtually anyone could liberate a defective part and install it into an airplane without any paper trail.
Swampy's bosses had a plan for dealing with this. They ordered Swampy to "pencil whip" the investigations of 420 missing defective components and close the cases without actually figuring out what happened to them. Swampy refused.
Instead, Swampy took his concerns to a departmental meeting where 12 managers were present and announced that "if we canât find them, any that we canât find, we need to report it to the FAA." The only response came from a supervisor, who said, "Weâre not going to report anything to the FAA."
The thing is, Swampy wasn't just protecting the lives of the passengers in those defective aircraft â he was also protecting Boeing employees. Under Sec 38 of the US Criminal Code, it's a 15-year felony to make any "materially false writing, entry, certification, document, record, data plate, label, or electronic communication concerning any aircraft or space vehicle part."
(When Swampy told a meeting that he took this seriously because "the paperwork is just as important as the aircraft" the room erupted in laughter.)
Swampy sent his own inspectors to the factory floor, and they discovered "dozens of red-painted defective parts installed on planes."
Swampy blew the whistle. How did the 787 â and the rest of Boeing's defective flying turkeys â escape the hangar and find their way into commercial airlines' fleets? Tkacik blames a 2000 whistleblower law called AIR21 that:
creates such byzantine procedures, locates adjudication power in such an outgunned federal agency, and gives whistleblowers such a narrow chance of success that it effectively immunizes airplane manufacturers, of which there is one in the United States, from suffering any legal repercussions from the testimony of their own workers.
By his own estimation, Swampy was ordered to commit two felonies per week for six years. Tkacik explains that this kind of operation relies on a culture of ignorance â managers must not document their orders, and workers must not be made aware of the law. Whistleblowers like Swampy, who spoke the unspeakable, were sidelined (an assessment by one of Swampy's managers called him "one of the best" and finished that "leadership would give hugs and high fives all around at his departure").
Multiple whistleblowers were singled out for retaliation and forced departure. William Hobek, a quality manager who refused to "pencil whip" the missing, massive 47-48 assembly that had wandered away from the MRSA cage, was given a "weak" performance review and fired despite an HR manager admitting that it was bogus.
Another quality manager, Cynthia Kitchens, filed an ethics complaint against manager Elton Wright who responded to her persistent reporting of defects on the line by shoving her against a wall and shouting that Boeing was "a good olâ boysâ club and you need to get on board." Kitchens was fired in 2016. She had cancer at the time.
John Woods, yet another quality engineer, was fired after he refused to sign off on a corner-cutting process to repair a fuselage â the FAA later backed up his judgment.
Then there's Sam Salehpour, the 787 quality engineer whose tearful Congressional testimony described more corner-cutting on fuselage repairs:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PP0xhIe1LFE
Salehpour's boss followed the Boeing playbook to the letter: Salehpour was constantly harangued and bullied, and he was isolated from colleagues who might concur with his assessment. When Salehpour announced that he would give Congressional testimony, his car was sabotaged under mysterious circumstances.
It's a playbook. Salehpour's experience isn't unusual at Boeing. Two other engineers, working on the 787 Organization Designation Authorization, held up production by insisting that the company fix the planes' onboard navigation computers. Their boss gave them a terrible performance review, admitting that top management was furious at the delays and had ordered him to punish the engineers. The engineers' union grievance failed, with Boeing concluding that this conduct â which they admitted to â didn't rise to the level of retaliation.
As Tkacik points out, these engineers and managers that Boeing targeted for intimidation and retaliation are the very same staff who are supposed to be performing inspections of behalf of the FAA. In other words, Boeing has spent years attacking its own regulator, with total impunity.
But it's not just the FAA who've failed to take action â it's also the DOJ, who have consistently declined to bring prosecutions in most cases, and who settled the rare case they did bring with "deferred prosecution agreements." This pattern was true under Trump's DOJ and continued under Biden's tenure. Biden's prosecutors have been so lackluster that a federal judge "publicly rebuked the DOJ for failing to take seriously the reputational damage its conduct throughout the Boeing case was inflicting on the agency."
Meanwhile, there's the AIR21 rule, a "whistleblower" rule that actually protects Boeing from whistleblowers. Under AIR21, an aviation whistleblower who is retaliated against by their employer must first try to resolve their problem internally. If that fails, the whistleblower has only one course of action: file an OSHA complaint within 90 days (if HR takes more than 90 days to resolve your internal complaint, you can no have no further recourse). If you manage to raise a complaint with OSHA, it is heard by a secret tribunal that has no subpoena power and routinely takes five years to rule on cases, and rules against whistleblowers 97% of the time.
Boeing whistleblowers who missed the 90-day cutoff have filled the South Carolina courts with last-ditch attempts to hold the company to account. When they lose these cases â as is routine, given Boeing's enormous legal muscle and AIR21's legal handcuffs â they are often ordered to pay Boeing's legal costs.
Tkacik cites Swampy's lawyer, Rob Turkewitz, who says Swampy was the only one of Boeing's whistleblowers who was "savvy, meticulous, and fast-moving enough to bring an AIR 21 case capable of jumping through all the hoops" to file an AIR21 case, which then took seven years. Turkewitz calls Boeing South Carolina "a criminal enterprise."
That's a conclusion that's hard to argue with. Take Boeing's excuse for not producing the documentation of its slapdash reinstallation of the Alaska Air door plug that fell off its plane in flight: the company says it's not criminally liable for failing to provide the paperwork, because it never documented the repair. Not documenting the repair is also a crime.
You might have heard that there's some accountability coming to the Boeing boardroom, with the ouster of CEO David Calhoun. Calhoun's likely successor is Patrick Shanahan, whom Tkacik describes as "the architect of the ethos that governed the 787 program" and whom her source called "a classic schoolyard bully."
If Shanahan's name rings a bell, it might be because he was almost Trump's Secretary of Defense, but that was derailed by the news that he had "emphatically defended" his 17 year old son after the boy nearly beat his mother to death with a baseball bat. Shanahan is presently CEO of Spirit Aerospace, who made the door-plug that fell out of the Alaska Airlines 737 Max.
Boeing is a company where senior managers only fail up and where whistleblowers are terrorized in and out of the workplace. One of Tkacik's sources noticed his car shimmying. The source, an ex-787 worker who'd been fired after raising safety complaints, had tried to bring an AIR21 complaint, but withdrew it out of fear of being bankrupted if he was ordered to pay Boeing's legal costs. When the whistleblower pulled over, he discovered that two of the lug-nuts had been removed from one of his wheels.
The whistleblower texted Tkcacik to say (not for the first time): "If anything happens, I'm not suicidal."
Boeing is a primary aerospace contractor to the US government. It's clear that its management â and investors â consider it too big to jail. It's also clear that they know it's too big to fail â after all, the company did a $43b stock buyback, then got billions in a publicly funded buyback.
Boeing is, effectively, a government agency that is run for the benefit of its investors. It performs its own safety inspections. It investigates its own criminal violations of safety rules. It loots its own coffers and then refills them at public expense.
Meanwhile, the company has filled our skies with at least 420 airplanes with defective, red-painted parts that were locked up in the MRSA cage, then snuck out and fitted to an airplane that you or someone you love could fly on the next time you take your family on vacation or fly somewhere for work.
If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/01/boeing-boeing/#mrsa
Image: Tom Axford 1 (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Blue_sky_with_wisps_of_cloud_on_a_clear_summer_morning.jpg
CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en
--
Clemens Vasters (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:N7379E_-_Boeing_737_MAX_9.jpg
CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en
#pluralistic#mrsa#Material Review Segregation Area#787#dreamliner#swampy#faa#marking your own homework#monopolies#AS9100#Cynthia Kitchens#Sam Salehpour#737 max#ntsb#David Calhoun#boeing#whistleblowers#aviation#safety#John Barnett#maureen tkacik#Patrick Shanahan
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âïž Sitting in Zoroâs Lap hcs âïž
I just felt like doing these<3 I donât usually do concepts and Iâm testing out the waters so theyâll likely be short ;3 also I wanna do more than just relationship hcs bc itâll be more fun âïž
enjoy zoro simps cuz yâall definitely be on my acc đ
At first he feels itâs kinda pointless
like heâs thinking âwhy would you wanna sit on my lap?!âsit on a chair or- just- somewhere else!...even the floor or something idk?!!â
but however you somehow convince him to let you, whether thatâs bribery (swords or alcohol), sitting on him anyway or schmoozing him over into letting you,
you did it!!
And thatâs all that matters :)
he probably got tired of your relentless request and just let you eventually
While you sit on him heâs usually sleeping sitting up, drinking alcohol or just relaxing with his eyes closed
When you sit facing him itâs a little more comfortable for him
he prefers it that way
sometimes you lay your head on his shoulder/chest and fall asleep on him
heâll scoff either way but he gets a bit annoyed if he was trying to do something that requires getting up
Like training for example
If he wasnât too busy in the first place then he just scoffs and probably takes a nap himself
if heâs not tired he waits for you to get up
he doesnât like to stir you from sleep but if itâs important like a ship attack heâs kinda rough about doing so- đ
bro he basically yanks you up and yells your name
not because heâs trying to be mean đ€·ââïž
Just the fact that if an attack comes your way you wonât be able to dodgeâand protecting someone isnât his thing when fighting, he always tells you to go hide if your weak
uh anyway đ
When you sit with your back to his chest its comfy but like donât be surprised if he picks you up and turns you around (i donât wanna hear anyone saying theyâre too heavy bc you obviously must not have seen the weights he lifts on a daily)
sitting like thatâs kinda annoying bc having to crane your neck back and to the side is not fun đŹđ
plus you probably hit his jaw a lot-
Or things like
1) he bites his tongue
2) his teeth hit your head (and it hurts for both of you)
3) he spits his alcohol in your hair (when you hit his jaw with your head)
4) you hit your head on his nose
So yeah this position is less common for you guys
Bonus if your hair is long
then he gets his fingernails stuck to it too :)
he prefers you donât sit on his lap in public
mostly because he doesnât like the stares that come with it đââïž
he just feels awkward
If you once again somehow convince him to let you in public howeverâŠ..
itâll be the type where he man spreads and you sit on one leg facing him
that way he has a bit more space to move and one of his arms is free
just in case an attack comes that he needs to block
orrrrrr just for simply drinking alcohol đ
on the merry/sunny heâs more likely to cave in
especially since itâs just the strawhats
unless they make fun of him or smth (especially robin) then he doesnât mind as much
plus yâall can have some privacy in the crows nest most likely
ngl he pretty comfy to sit on
unless your really tall or smth heâs prob bigger than you
so itâs not like yâall are uncomfortable or squished
zoro after time skip is low key more comfy because you know that dark green coat he wears?
yeah it like bends to create a little chair when he manspreads
and idk if you know what Iâm talking about but those who get it do đđ
Does he end up liking it?
yes :)
yes he does. :)
Im trying to branch out and do more concepts because itâs more interesting for me to write, and you to read so why not đ
Hopefully my zoro stans enjoyed !! <3 âïžđĄ
#anime#anime and manga#luffyvace#anime headcanons#fluff headcanons#fluff#one piece#one piece headcanons#straw hat pirates#one piece x reader#zoro#zoro x reader#one piece zoro#roronoa zoro#op zoro#pirate hunter zoro#zoro one piece#zoro x gn reader#x gn reader#gn reader#gn s/o#gn guys#gn <3#gender neutral reader#gender neutral post#one piece x gn reader#x reader#x you#x y/n#x male reader
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if mcyt isnât fiction then
people who create dnd characters that are similar to them in personality are just playing themselves and should not be treated as having made a character
people who make any other dnd character should also be treated as just playing themselves since people refuse to even consider roleplay smps as fiction
any ocs someone puts a bit of themselves into? nope not fiction!
actors who play a character with the same first name as them arenât really acting
and so on
maybe YOU canât separate characters and real people and think that everything you see from a youtuber even when theyâre explicitly acting is how they are in real life but we as a fandom just donât have that issue lol. weâve had disclaimers and indicators for when weâre talking about characters and not content creators for years because a certain smp contained a character having suicidal thoughts as a result of abuse at the hands of another character and we needed to make it absolutely crystal clear that we were referring to a fictional storyline and not real guy #1 being an abuser and real guy #2 being suicidal. these customs have either extended into other corners of mcyt fandom, or some developed their own independently like hispanic mcyt fans have used the word cubito to distinguish mc guy from real life guy from years, a term that other language speakers liked so much weâve also started picking it up lol
we know exactly what weâre doing. i get that the line maybe does seem more blurred to an outsider looking in (i wouldnât know given that both my first fandom at age 12 and current fandom at age 20 were mcrp lol) but itâs universally understood amongst us. i donât have a problem separating hermitcraft!gem and empires s1!gem the wizard with a twin brother and empires s2!gem the princess and cc!gem the real life canadian woman.
idk it rubs me the wrong way that after years of trying to explain this weâre either met with people calling us racists because of three guys that the rest of us (all of us, really, because dream team fans do not claim to be minecraft fans. those are the type to actually write rpf and ship the real life racist guys) hate probably a lot more than any of you do, or they watch a few minutes of a less roleplay-heavy series/part and decide that the entire medium is invalid as a form of storytelling
itâs so annoying. i donât think we need to be understood to have validity as a fandom weâve been doing this for years already without that but it is so infuriating and sad how whenever thereâs some kind of fandom poll thing one of three things happens
mcyt fans are banned outright and placed on the same level as something like hp
an mcyt fan runs their own and gets harassed for it
a non-mcyt fan allows us in until they get harassed so badly by whatever fandoms we go up against that they end up deleting our bracket
in what world is that normal behaviour. and that harassment always involves calling them all racist cishet white men such as misgendering both eret (real life bisexual genderqueer person) and their character (also queer), attempting to harass jimmy solidarity fans because jimmy makes mc videos so he must be a dream associate (the only time they interacted was in a tournament during which dream and georgenotfound shittalked jimmyâs best friends to his face), all the shit quackity has gotten for being a former friend of the dream team as if he wasnât the #1 victim of their racism and xenophobia, the fact that any time c!technoblade is involved in a poll we have to beg other fandoms not to talk shit about him because the real life man died of cancer before dreamâs grooming allegations came out, similarly when tfc was in one. and so on and so forth. all because people canât separate roleplay and real life and think that the entire minecraft sphere revolves around dream just because their idea of mcyt does (not even his own smp named after him did that).
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late shift
Shuttle for Mars is departing now. Please keep hands, feet, tails, and other appendages clear of the yellow line.
âNice, finally get off work on time for once! Man is it empty, way less busy than the 5:45 oneâŠ
Are they sleeping? Please tell me theyâre sleepingâŠâ
âSnnrkâŠâ
âOh good they are, oooh lots of empty seats next to them! Nice.â
The young human sits across the large figure and looks around.
âWonder why everyone else is sitting so far away from this guy? Heâs not that much scarier than a AlteauhâŠOH! Heâs an Orc! An actual Orc, oh this is so cool! Wait. Calm down, control yourself. Orcâs are people too, not some exotic animal in a zooâŠ.heâs sooo cool looking tho!â
The human smiles and takes out their headphones and listens to some music and take in the view they see through the shuttleâs windows. From time to time they peek at the orc, canât helping themselves from people-watching him.
Like what most humans imagined, he was huge. Easily more than 7 feet tall, with large calloused hands bigger than their head. He had large tusks but unlike the stereotypes he was well trimmed with well relatively kept hair. It would have neater had there not been dust in it. The orc wore dirty cloths and work boots. Beside them what looked like a tool box and bag.
âMust be a construction worker or works in a tradeâ they mused
âPoor guy, heâs gotta be exhausted to sleep here. At least he gets to go home now.â
The shuttle shakes and with it so does the sleeping giant. Rocking side to side.
'That's not good.' They nervously slide off their headphones.
The turbulence increases until the sleeping orc leans too far and starts fall face first off his seat.
âOH SHIT!â Diving to their knees they manage to catch his head and shoulders.
âMm?â
âYou okay?â Damn he's heavy!
âMmmâŠsorry.â Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he slowly got back into his seat, the turbulence now gone.
âNo worries, I just didnât want you to hit your head.â
âHeh, wouldn't be the first time Iâve done it.â
after rubbing his eyes a bit more and a crack of the neck he looks at them, brain finally working to some degree.
ââŠwait. You caught me?â
âUh-huhâ
âBut youâre so small! Are you hurt?â
âYou're not the first sleeping giant Iâve caught. Iâm alright.â
âI am so sorry for that. I just finished working a 12 hour shift fixing the 1st and 3rd engine rooms and couldnât help myself from dozing off.â
They whistle. â12 hours? No wonder youâre tired! If I were you Iâd be in a coma.â
âAh but surely you have a difficult job yourself. How else would you be able to catch me?â
âNo, nothing like yours! I just work at a youngling centre.â
âThe one on the ship?â
âThatâs the one.â
â...YOUR ONE OF THE BRAVE WARRIORS WHO RISKED THEIR LIVES TO PROTECT THE CHILDREN??!â
ââŠyouâve heard of us?â
âEvery orc and warrior worth their blade knows of your valiant deeds!! Tell me, what is your name??â
âKim, uh and you are?â
âFenrir. It is truly an honor to meet someone of your bravery and intelligence."
"Likewise! I've heard that the orc species are a true warrior race."
For the rest of the trip the two talked. Kim sharing how her and Max built such a safe room in the centre, which lead to the two realizing how similar each other's planets are.
"You have wind whirlpools as well? I thought they only existed on Bantor!"
"Well we call them hurricanes and tornadoes but yeah. Do you guys have hail?"
"Not where I grew up but nearby farther up they get a week or two of light hail showers during the fall. What about animals? Do you have reptiles bigger than an adult with large teeth and live in rivers? We call them darthrang."
"Oh we call them crocodiles!"
"Amazing! To think that your species live in a world much like mine!"
When the shuttle finally reached it's destination the two went their separate ways. A few days later they meet again, this time on the later shuttle. They sit and talk and create a routine of sorts where they became each others travelling companion for the trip to Mars.
One day however, Fenrir stopped coming. The human was saddened as she enjoyed his company but was soon surprised when seeing him at the centre.
"Kim! I've been transferred to stay on the ship so I won't be taking the shuttle to Mars anymore."
"Oh...well, as you know I only go home at the end of the week so maybe we can hang out now. Like eat lunch together or have a drink after work...or something like that!"
"Actually we'll be seeing each other everyday now. But if you don't get sick of me then yes, lets each lunch together."
"Great! But why will I be seeing you everyday?"
"Because after telling my family about you and the centre they've enrolled my nieces and nephews and younger siblings here...and I offered to drop them off and pick them up."
It was then that Kim noticed the dozen of orc children hiding behind Fenrir. The tallest and what looked the eldest of them stepped forward.
"Hello, I am Athea, uncle Fenrir said your one of the ones who saved the centre."
"Yes, my name is Kim. It's great to meet you AtheaaAA!" The orc girl pulled the human into a tight hug, lifting the adult woman off of her feet.
"Thank you for saving Nova." she mumbled into her chest.
'Ah, the Captain's daughter' Kim thought. "I was just doing what any teacher would do."
After a moment the human was put down and lead the children into the centre. The day went well. Fenrir's young family members were quickly won over by the humans, first with the saving of the centre, then with how they understood how wonderful their planet was rather than terrifying or deadly.
They were also greatly intrigued by how such a small species could survive in a planet that was thought to only be habitable to orcs.
"How can you carry us?" asked Thor, one of Fenrir's youngest brothers. "We're much bigger than a human child."
"Yeah but your not bigger than my cousins who are teenagers. Also just last month I had like 10 kids climbing on me. Two were tighalaxes."
"Your joking!"
...
"It that tumpon?!"
"Hm? We call it maafe, but it's also known as peanut stew, do you want some? It doesn't have any meat in it though."
"Guys Max has tumpon!! Can you tell Fenrir where we can buy the ingredients?"
"Of course. Finally I'll finish what gran gave me without having to gain 10 pounds."
And thus the first day ended on a high note! Now if only Kim could figure out why the children looked at her and nodded while talking to Fenrir...
So this based off of a post by @llamagoddessofficial about humans meeting actual space orcs. Sadly I can't find the actual post. but yeah, here u go, space orc and human meet cute
#the adventures of kim and max running a space child centre#space orcs#humans are space orcs#humans in space#the beginning is something that actually happened to me#caught a sleeping construction worker who I sat across from on the bus when heading home from work#thankfully he was just a little taller than me and not a giant like fenrir#also my brother went through a phase of randomly doing trust falls in front of me so I am experienced in randomly having to catch people
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DEMO || PINTEREST
LightsâŠ
CameraâŠ
Action!
Those three words, along with the flashing of cameras and screaming of thousands of people, had made up your life for over a decade. Following your rising star into the stratosphere where you could look at where youâve been upon your lofty perch in the sky. You were the ruler of your universe and there was nothing thatâd bring you downâŠ
⊠Until, of course, there wasâŠ
Suddenly in a free fall, without any chance of catching yourself in sight, youâre hurtling back to the ground with only one thought, one goal, in your mind: Find your way back up.
When a new project comes your way, new opportunities arrive with it, but nothing is ever cut and dry within Hollywood. Youâll have to put your all into this movie if you want any chance at salvaging your career.
Try to stay on scriptâŠ
Unscripted is a slice-of-life interactive fiction where romance, drama, and the trivialities of life intertwine to create your story. Rated 18+ for explicit language, optional sexual content, drug/alcohol use, and violence.
Features
â° Customizable MC: Name, gender (male, female, non-binary), sexuality, appearance, some of your past projects, and history with a few of the characters.
â° Maintain your fan base and make sure that they havenât forgotten about you. Will you earn more as your journey progresses?
â° Be interviewed from sidewalk reporters to one of the biggest Late Night Shows within America. Just make sure that you make a good impressionâ there is such a thing as bad publicity after all.
â° Romance one of the characters thatâll either have the crowd roaring or scratching their heads. Will you find common ground with your sworn rival? Take a chance at love with someone from your past? Give your hot-and-cold manager a shot? Time will tellâŠ
â° Adopt a new friend that will hopefully make your lonely nights less so.
â° Rise back to the ranks of Super Stardom and take back your throne.
Romances
The Rival: Angel Sinclair [M/F] â Ever since you arrived in Hollywood, Angel Sinclair has been there. Youâre not quite sure when, or where, your rivalry even began, only that itâs made a ton of tabloids rich with the stories theyâd print due to it, and youâre even less sure why you keep running into them on the same lot youâre shooting your newest movie. Is it another twisted form of punishment? With an icy exterior that puts the Arctic to shame, you donât think youâve ever seen them smileâ at least when theyâre not in front of the camera or interacting with fans. Will you uncover more as your random run-ins start losing some of their randomness?
Route: Rivals to Lovers.
The Manager: Kieran/Kiera Walker [M/F] â Probably one of the few reasons youâre still where you are. With a keen mind, a sharp eye for detail, and an even sharper tongue, K has never taken it easy on you, and theyâre definitely not doing so now. While pragmatic about their approach, theyâre not afraid to tell you what they think, when the time calls for it, which is something thatâs definitely caused some tension in the past. Still, you donât know what youâd do without them; as theyâve stayed steadily by your side through it all. And you donât think theyâre going anywhere anytime soon.
Route: Slow Burn.
The Director: Spencer Hale [M/F] â Last Laugh, the title of the movie youâre now part of, is the passion project that Spencer has been working on for years; trying tirelessly to get it to the silver screen. You would knowâ after all you were there when they began to write it back in college. Despite not having seen them in years, the gentle look in their eyes hasnât shifted in the slightest; even if it is a bit more wary now, they donât hesitate in offering you the same level of kindness as before. Though, even that, still feels different, wrong somehow. Can you recover whatâs been lost between you? Or will you forever be two ships passing in the night?
Route: Ex-Best Friend/Lover (can choose if they were your lover or not) || Second Chances
The Newcomer: Cameron/Carmen Rivera [M/F] â An up-and-coming star within Hollywood from the music scene. Having wanted to take a shot at the silver screen for years itâs only with this project that theyâve finally been given the chanceâ cast as your love interest, no less. Youâre not too sure what to make of them. From everything youâve read theyâre sunshine incarnate, with a beaming smile always on their lips, that completely contradicts the darker colors that they typically wear. Something tells you, an almost bone deep intuition, that theyâre an array of contradictions all rolled up into one package. Will you ever be able to uncover any of them?
Route: First Love (to them) || Age Gap
The Bodyguard: Roman Locke [M/F] â With a penchant to wear nothing but black, sometimes with muted tones of gray thrown in, you donât know much about the individual thatâs been guarding you with their life for the last five years. Only their stellar history in the Navy, coupled with a possible connection to being a CIA Agent, though thatâs never been confirmed, and the other rudimentary facets of their past that any employer needs to know. However, even if they rarely speak, you know that youâre in more than capable hands and that they take their job seriously. But what happens when that professional facade begins to crack?
Route: Bodyguard Romance.
The Assistant: Harley Park [M/F] â Someone whoâs very good at their job while also being everywhere and nowhere all at once. You donât know if theyâll ever get over the embarrassment of your first meetingâ with them being in a fandom shirt from a project you had done a couple of years before, with you at center stage on it. With an undeniable charm, if a bit awkward in their approach, Harley is definitely someone thatâd you miss interacting with once you got the chance to do so. You just have to get them to actually interact with you first.
Route: Oblivious Love.
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(These are my ACTUAL notes from my friends birthday party full of people who absolutely did not know who the fuck Itachi and Kisame were or how pairing names work or what a ship is.)
Writing kisaita (on and off) for 15 years
Never get tired of the ship
Excellent, friendly people in the fandom to keep making content (Cynni)
Presentation is less about the specific ship and more about the general qualities that make their ship S-tier. You may find this echoed in your own OTP, IDK.
Powerful, badass characters who can kick anyones asses no problem, as depicted where they are casually taking a stroll after Kisame (who still has his little fo-hawk) casually takes down the four-tails
Kisame is noted as the âtail-less jinchuurikiâ
Itachi is clearly a fucking powerhouse, we donât need to debate that
Working with strong characters means you are more easily able to portray their weakness and explore that side of them since that rarely gets screentime
Auxiliary, not main characters
Main characters are harder to write because they spend a lot of screen time accomplishing their goal and doing Plot
Auxiliary characters are more malleable, and morally gray ones especially so
Depicted here are Itachi and Kisame, separately, being ordered by their villages to kill their own people. They carry this order out, but do not particularly like it. Nor are they particularly loyal to their own villages, despite carrying this order out. Itâs hard to say where their loyalities lie.
The answer is WITH EACH OTHER OBVIOUSLY
Any ship that has a timeskip has LOADS of canon-verse material you can work with, especially if it feels like the characters have changed or their dynamic has changed.
For Naruto especially, WTF are Kisame and Itachi doing for three years? Clearly neither of them are out capturing jinchuriki. They arenât seen lounging around Amegakure or Akatsuki headquarters. They are just traveling the world. Probably doing hits. Probably hitting on EACH OTHER WOOOOOO
Long time skips mean a few thing: 1) Canon divergence, 2) Canon compliant, 3) pre-time skip, 4) during time skip, 5) post time-skip; and thatâs not even the AUâs
They clearly havenât made any other friends during this time either so lots of relationship to explore
The Naruto franchise is notorious for retconning. Probably because Kishimoto (the writer) was pushed to create at a pace that was impossible for any sane or healthy man to keep up with.
Fanficition writers can take advantage of this poor writing by interpreting the character in a lot more ways than if the character was solidly written.
There are a lot of different ways Kisame is written, and accepted as so
Itachi less so but we donât have time for that
Retconning allows you to take a writers mistake and turn it into utter brainrot that ten other people (me) will reblog every 3 years
This one is kind of specific, but if you like angst then OH BOY this ship has a lot of potential for it
Any OTP that involves an angsty edgelord and a sadistic tagalong can indulge in either EXTRA ANGST and be able to balance out the angst with humor
The KisaIta ship has 4 great themes about it:
Redemption
Acceptance
Forgiveness
And Existentialism of course
Dynamic:
Sharkboy / lava girl
Edgelord / goof
Leader / follower
Maybe old? / a touch too young
Respect for each other
S-tier OTP because of strong themes and repeatable dynamics
Kinkfest here we come
S-tier OTPs must be able to withstand an intense variety of smut writing
Powerful level = able to handle pain and dish out pain
Body things? = more positions
The Shape of Water was one of the single best thing to happen to the KisaIta 18+ fics because (even though it existed before the movie came out) a lot more readers were into it now
Also, Kisame makes this ship work more than Itachi. He is fucking DEVOTED
at this point I was running out of my 10-minutes (THEY HAD THE AUDACITY TO PUT ME ON A TIMER) so i just backfilled the rest of the presentation with fanart and memes i like
Why do I like KisaIta?
I mostly write smut
Theyâre great at smut
I also like angst
Theyâre always great for angst, either character
Also look at them they are hot AF
Beefcake service-top vs. âshaped like a katanaâ masochist
Healthy dose of hurt-comfort
Theyâre extremely flexible to write and so thereâs a lot of stories you can create
thank you for not reporting me to the powerpoint police
#naruto#uchiha itachi#hoshigaki kisame#kisaita#itachi#kisame#naruto meme#despite the fact i've only been writing kisakonan for the past four years#i still have loads of old kisaita and unpublished kisaita sitting in the bank#RIP my old FFN account
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Ethnographic Research: Part 2 (Songkran)
It's the biggest holiday of the year for Thai people. Songkran, or Thai's New Year, usually make Thailand filled to the brim with tourist from all over the globe that wanted to experience the festivities. It's crowded, it's loud and it's wet, the whole country especially Bangkok seemingly have no concept of sleeping during the duration of Songkran.
The parade last the whole day, and the party last even longer, creating this illusion of endless party as all of the people seemingly rejoiced the New Year.
So, it's only normal for the Mother Ship to capture that brimming energy from its scanner and deciced that two of the researcher should land in that spot since human seemingly packed the place, especially the very lively Bangkok
The 2 Xarthans should've landed close to each other for easier coordination after the takeover, but due to the technical issues to the pod, it diverted one of them from the planned landing spot.
So while this one comfortably slipped itself into the body of this fit hunk named Gun while he just finished dipping in the swimming pool and getting ready for a full day of partying, the other one have to struggle through the crowded city as it tries to make its way to the designated meeting spot
The less luckier Xarthan decided that the only way he can go undetected with this insane crowd of people is to blend in. It found itself landed near this giant plastic drum filled with water in the backyard of a random house so it dipped itself into it and started to break itself down into microparticles. The splash from the 8 feet tall alien entering the water drum must have alerted the human inside the house as he quickly checked on the drum to find nothing out of the extraordinary. Then, more men swarmed the water drum and revealed the gun-like items they bring with themselves. Not long after, the Xarthan found itself split into 5 water guns belonged to 5 different men, and if the visuals they watched in the Mother Ship turned out to be true, this is actually a perfect way for it to get into more human
---
While the Xarthan that landed on its designated spot already blended in and partied his ass out with everyone in the middle of the city, the adventure just started for the separated Xarthan, now also split into 5 different water gun. Aside from the glimpse it spotted earlier when those men peered into the water drum, it basically have no idea how the men looked like. But it didn't take long for it to finally started its spread as it found itself suddenly having multiple vision. The water shooting has started, and everytime a spritz of the infected water landed in these bodies, that body turned into a vessel right after the water particles slipped into the body either through the navel, the slit of their cock or asshole or even right through the orifices in the human face.
The takeover were quick and almost seamless, the human rarely felt anything as they considered it to be as simple as water trickling into their body. But when that sharp jab of takeover sealed their fate, they usually flinched but that meant it was too late for them to stop the process. The main Xarthan constantly emitted this transmission to keep all the new vessels in check, and they quickly converge in-between themselves so they are not scattered across the crowd. They would abandon whatever original plan of their vessel or the companion that they went together with, or even more sinisterly, grabbed their companion so their companion could also be shot by the infected water gun. What makes the festivity turned out to be a potent way to find good vessel other than the raucous water spray is the fact that for a lot of the time, people shoot water to others that they find attractive or likable, so no wonder that in just below 30 mins, the separated Xarthan found itself ended up controlling multiple different attractive bodies, and not just limited to local people as some of it ended up in tourists bodies too as Bangkok usually flooded with thousands of tourist during peak season like this.
When the sun eventually sets, the newly-minted vessels arrived altogether in front of the main party gate for the festivities. It can sense that the fellow Xarthan is already inside the party ground, so all of the different bodies started to swarm the gate to get themselves inside. Some of the vessels already have the tickets to enter the party ground, but some other unlucky ones decided to take matter into their own hands, either jumping into another host or even takeover security details or the staffers of the festival.
With more than 30+ bodies under control, it should've been an easy search. But the crowd, nearing 40,000 and counting, made it quite a challenging work as the vessels tend to get distracted by random groping and playful kisses landed to them. Eventually, the security details managed to find Gun as their bigger bodies plus the uniform managed to convince the partygoers to give them way. Upon eye contact, Gun playfully winked at the three securities that eyed him, knowing full well its his brothers split particles inside the securities body. Gun then used his mind to telepathically subdued one of the security to join him for some playful fun while the rest of the vessels gathered. It's easy to do so since the split particles definitely weaker in comparison to them staying intact as a singular entity. The subdued security then give Gun a lift, practically letting Gun piggybacked over his broad shoulders. Then, the excited Gun emitted the signal so all the vessels from his brothers can gather around and they can have the best of fun all night long. He's about to be surprised on how many bodies his brother acquired, but for now, he just want to have fun and ride on the energy his vessel exudes
#alien possession#male possession#alien expansion#alien takeover#alien transference#male puppet#EtRe series
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One of the software concepts that I found useful to bring over to writing is the concept of technical debt.
Technical debt is the additional work that gets created when you choose a fast option over a good option. It's "debt" because there's a very good chance that at some point you're going to have to repay it: you hardcode in some variables, deciding that you'll figure out the proper way to do it later, and eventually, surprise! It's later. You have to implement the solution you were putting off. And because you've been using the kludge for so long, sometimes that kludge has become load-bearing, and you have to spend quite a bit of time unraveling and refactoring. One of the reasons it's called debt because you have to pay interest on it.
And the thing is, it's not always wrong to accrue technical debt. Sometimes it helps you get to working on the important thing, and can clarify design details or implementation concerns, and sometimes you can just ship without ever having to do it the "right" way. Sometimes you can wriggle out from under that debt and never suffer any consequences from it, even if there were theoretical consequences when you made the decision to do it the fast way.
The way that this applies to writing is mostly in terms of worldbuilding, character building, and plotting. You can sit down and map a whole novel out without writing a single word, whipping up character bibles and setting details and everything that you might possibly need, all before you write a single word.
... or you can accrue some debt and just gun it, writing as you go, making things up, adding them to some kind of tracking document or just not even doing that.
And as with code, there will come times you have to pay that debt back with interest.
Sometimes you skimp on a character's backstory, and then a few chapters down the road you need to make a decision about it, and suddenly there's a bunch of editorial work as you have to make sure that everything you just decided on matches up with what you've already written. A more extreme example would be writing a mystery novel where you haven't decided on what the answer to the mystery will be until very very late: it would either produce a bad mystery or require tons of rewriting.
As with code, the difficulty is knowing when you're incurring technical debt for a good reason and when you're shooting your future self in the foot.
Here are my rules of thumb for writing, in terms of what's acceptable technical debt:
Plot stuff should not wait. You should have a resolution for your story within the first few chapters of writing that story, and ideally, before you even start.
Everyone (and everything) gets a name the first time it appears. You cannot say "the gardener" a dozen times because you don't want to think of a name for the gardener.
All magic systems and superpowers and whatnot should be rigidly defined before they come onscreen. This doesn't need to be known to the characters, and "soft" magic has less of a requirement, but having rules be thought up midway through a fight scene is essentially the definition of generating technical debt.
Descriptions take little effort to bring into alignment, so can be skipped on first draft, so long as there is a description there. Having descriptions written afterward can help to understand mood and requirements of the scene.
Backstory is really variable, depending on how relevant to the plot it is. If it's going to be driving conflict, it needs to be worked out ahead of time. If it's flavor, it can be winged.
I am, of course, not the best follower of my own advice, and sometimes for very long webfic it's impossible to plan that much in advance. And of course I never go into every work having had every idea I'm going to have, and some of those ideas are good enough to include even if they disrupt a plan and require some refactoring.
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Hey! If itâs okay, can I request Kidd going absolutely feral because his s/o got hurt?
KIDD; avenging you
wc: 771 warning/s: gn reader, violence, mentions of blood and scars, super short ><
"where are they? let me fucking see them." kidd tried shimmying through the crowd that stood before the doors of the ship's clinic. they were stopping him and he wasn't gonna stand idly and follow.
"captain, they're in a critical state. they shouldn't see any visitors yet." said the ship doctor, shivering under the frigid gaze of the pirate. "it'll be until tomorrow before we allow visitors, their wounds are still too fresh."
kidd gave everyone one last glare, before finally surrendering and turning his back. stomping away with one objective in mind.
"and where do you plan to go, kidd?" killer called out, following after the redhead.
"don't follow me." he firmly replied, not looking back. his tone was sharp and no one planned on disobeying him. "i'll beat his ass and leave no fucking trace of that marine."
so he descended his ship and off he goes to the port nearby, using his devil fruit to pin those who stand on his way. throwing heaps of metal that gathered above him, bolts of lightning sending the navy flying. he was seeing red, he wanted to see red.
remorseless as he is, kidd lived up to his name as one of the most ruthless and vicious pirate befitting the title as one of the worst generation. he bullied each that blocked his path with his power, ignoring the pleads and screams with no regard whether those are civilians or navy.
"where's the shithead who hurt one of us?" he growled, brusque as he fisted the collar of one of the marines. "start talkin' less crying, aye?!" he gruffly added, nostrils flaring.
killer and the others were behind him, cleaning up his mess and watching his back. they kept an eye out for the marines. instead of stopping him, they opted that supporting him would atleast get them somewhere. going against their captain only applies at certain circumstances and this isn't one of them. besides, they also wanted to get back at the pack of idiots who dare to hurt you.
once the marine had shivered enough to tell him where the bastard is, kidd wasted no time and propeled himself with piles of metals to the highest place in the building.
"found you." he grinned maniacally, listing down the things he plans to do with this dumbass vice captain. he had a devil fruit and he caught you off guard. once he had you on his grasp, he pinned you down and mercilessly scarred you. killer and the others were too busy fending other marines off while kidd dealt with the captain. "you've got some goddamn nerve laying a hand on what's mine."
it took the entire evening until dawn before kidd was finished with the poor marine. kidd pummeled the bastard to a pit underground that he created from the top. he bled the vice captain dry, and the captain had no chance of calling for back up because of killer. last thing kidd knew was the guy wasn't breathing before he was satisfied with his bloody creation.
you soon found kidd sleeping on his seat that was positioned next to you. dried blood littered his pale skin. he had a few scratches but it's obvious that the blood was not his. he had his arms crossed, head almost falling to the side as he dozed off. you figured he waited for you to wake up, it was already evening.
you shuffled a little, but it only took one whimper from you for him to shot up from his seat. "w-why are you bloody?" you weakly uttered. your voice was hoarse and your lips were dry.
"you shoulda seen the other guy." he laughed, he reached over to brush your hair at the top of your head with his palm. he looked at you with the softest gaze; well, he always looked at you like that, no one else. you could see how he pained to see you like this from the way his eyes softened.
"sorry." you covered your face, ashamed in front of your lover and captain. "that was shameful as a kidd pirate-"
"aaah fuck off with that." kidd cut you off, prying your hands away from your face and holding them together. his thumb rubbing circles at the back of your hand. "they outnumbered us and i was careless. don't worry your little head because i gave it to 'em back tenfold."
you smiled a little, if it weren't for the pain you would've laughed. "i'll be stronger." you pledged, looking deeply into his eyes.
"get fuckin' better first and i'll see you through it."
hello >< tysm for the requesttt <3
i've been gone for a while i'm sorry. i wanted to draw a lot and i just realized how much i made u guys wait TT, i hope i can come up with something to make it up to those who're waiting <3 i haven't been feeling my best lately so let's pray that this subsides wkwkwkwkwk
#manga#anime#one piece#eustass kidd#cha writes#one piece headcanons#one piece x reader#eustass kid#eustass kid x reader#one piece eustass kid#eustass captain kidd#eustasscaptainkid#eustass x reader#eustass kidd headcanons#eustass kidd x reader#eustass kidd x y/n#eustass kidd x you#one piece x y/n#one piece x female reader#one piece x gn reader#one piece fluff#one piece scenario#one piece imagine#eustass kid x you#eustass kid headcanons#eustass kid x y/n#eustass captain kid
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"i can see all the colors"
above me they are shining and finally, I can see all the colors that surround me.
CONTENT: Vague descriptions of injury, descriptions of character death, potentially disturbing sensory (rotting corpse smell mentioned, etc.) comforting character death (for Curly), regret (for Anyaâs situation), j***y is not named (đ) SYNOPSIS: Captain Curly gets a glimpse of the universe outside the foamed up walls of the drifting Tulpar. AUTHOR'S NOTE: mouthwashing folks how are we feeling about that ending
In the end,
no one came.
No one came to free him from the cryopod. No one came to free the bodies scattered around the ship - no one to bring them home. Or for that one, dead, rotting pixel he had no choice but to now see - no one to throw him out into the endless universe like trash.
It was just him.
The bodies.
The tulpar.
And the cryopod he wasnât meant for.
God, if one could hear him this far from Earth, he would give anything, anything, to be a captain worthy of that honor. Anything to go back in time, pick up the pieces of his sense he let fall to his feet, shattering and cutting him and all that once stood around and with him. And how they bled. How they bled so much that he thought, perhaps, the crimson beneath his feet was a red carpet that marked his glory. His leadership.
Perhaps this was punishment.
To want to give everything to go back as you freeze in a pod, slowly, slowly dying with no one to come save you.
A captain always goes down with his ship.
He wishes he could close his eyes - burning from dryness, and the cold. Perhaps this was punishment too. For not seeing. Now, all he could do was see. He felt as if he had been stripped away of everything. Gone were the skin and limbs. Leaving only behind the most vulnerable, most human mechanisms in his body. To see. To hear. To create sounds of pain, sadness, and desperation. He was a canvas of red - a tiny splotch of blue amongst the various crimson shades. Scaled small on the canvas, but within it so much knowledge. So many things that had finally been seen.
Time stretches by so slowly.
It rakes its nails across him and his ship. Chipping away at resolve and cleaning the remnants of sanity from his mind.
And still,
no one comes.
His ship is failing. His body is failing. What was it, that saying he had thought of not long ago as he considered his punishment? Ah- a captain always goes down with his ship. Well, Captain Curly was going down with his ship.
And his crew.
They are rotting. He is rotting.
And how long had it been, counting his time through the days, hours, and seconds that had gone by since he was.. not this. He felt that he had become something more. Something different. But truly - he was still himself, wasnât he? The crash had changed him, of course, but isnât that similar to the process of a sudden metamorphosis? It felt more burden than butterfly - but what if there were still the remnants of the caterpillar in him? Would it be somehow possible to call upon them? To use the skills from the past and translate them to something he could do now?
Yes - yes he thinks perhaps he could. He could call upon them. Use the strength of this form to deliver the most powerful something of all. Do something so very caterpillar (human) while being so butterfly (in his view, not human).
In this freezing, empty chrysalis, he reverts back to his roots, opening his jaw with pain - but that was a familiar thing already - and wheezing out something that only reverberates within the chamber. Echoing down the long hallway of his punishment, lost on the ears of the dead.
âS-S - orry.â
And then no one came.
And then he could not close his eyes.
And then, just before the end, he realized he was neither caterpillar, nor butterfly, nor human, nor anything more or less than that - but maybe, just maybe - he was forgiven.
And then he went down with his ship.
The metal walls and layers of the Tulpar had unraveled itself. All that remained was the exoskeleton of a ship - bones and ribs and skull - drifting through space. One, singular pod still connected to it. Two long dead bodies bound in their infinite voyage.
But maybe that wasnât true.
Because he feels himself, somehow, come out from the pod - standing just on the edge of the peeling metal. Feet planted impossibly confidently with the absence of gravity.
Beyond death - Captain Curly can still see.
There are so many colors.
Purple, blue, orange, red - a cornucopia of color beyond imagination. Hues and shades the human mind could not even digest. He can see them all before him.
âI think my favorite might be the blues.â There is a voice behind him - sounding different when it lacks timidness.
âGuess mine!â Cheery, useless ray of sunshine that beams so far away from the sun.
âGreen.â Straight to the point. But Curly knows that underneath the tone is a fondness for the two.
He can feel them behind him. Eyes turned to the mass of color above.
âClose! Itâs pink, Swansea. Me and Anyaâs colors make purple.â Daisuke says, and he just knows that maybe he is putting his hands on his hips in a âsee how greatly that works out?â motion.
For a moment, silence passes. Comfortable. Peaceful.
âWhat about you, Captain? Whatâs your favorite?â
And then he turns - and they are before them.
The crew. The three he should have saved. The three he could not save. The three he failed.
Whatever form he takes now - they stare at him with indifference. Passive curiosity on the simplicity of his favorite enveloped in the beautiful mass, far away from life.
He feels, somewhere within, the feeling of a held in cry or scream that only comes out as a freeing-
âMaybe the yellow. But the pink is nice - so is the blue.â
âYellow is the best choice.â Swansea voices his agreement as he looks back above him.
âYeah. Yellow is a good choice, Captain.â And of course, Daisukeâs eyes follow his mentors, even here. Even now.
âBlue is the best choice, though.â Anya says as she joins their gazes lifting back up.
He wants to ask them: was this always just right outside those walls? All these colors he could never see? All these ideas and concepts? All that pain and suffering?
But he knows that theyâll tell him yes, it was. And only now can you see it, Captain.
Only now can you see all the freedom, the relief, the joy, the stars and their colors.
And tell us - tell us when you come to that conclusion, too.
Tell us if you think it is beautiful.
#moutwashing game#mouthwashing#mouthwash#mouthwashing writing#captain curly#anya mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#swansea mouthwashing#captain curly x reader#fanfic#writing#evanescewriting
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