#which is why I started writing in the first place

[dduane]

Erotica and anniversaries

...The big E, first. Here she is. Isn't she lovely?

...Right there upstairs at the Library of Congress, on the second floor. (I noted at the time we passed through some years back—and continue to smile at the memory—that her artist has included his copyright statement right there, to make sure no one misses it.)

...Anyway, where were we? ...Oh yeah: the local takes on erotic writing and smut.

This subject seems to come up every couple of years. What nudged me into revisiting it this time was the notes off a comment to a post earlier today, responding to someone working on an explicit-leaning AU, and discussing the writing of (story) bibles for projects.

Anyway, the notes:

#love that the advice was not just 'stick to porn' or 'don't write porn at all' but 'ah yes; common problem; let me explain to you how to write a series bible'

Well, disclosure here: in my case, it can't really be otherwise. :)

Let this act as everybody's sort-of-biennial reminder (if needed) that I'm not going to be caught condemning people for writing smut, as I've written it myself. (And continue to do so when the mood moves me.)

The post from very nearly two years ago, discussing the issue in more detail, is over here. As you'll see if you read it, there were some folks who experienced brief episodes of cognitive dissonance on learning I was a cheerful writer of explicit material. Some of the surprise was probably due to the fact that a lot of people see me—mostly due to the relatively-higher profile of the Young Wizards books—as primarily a writer for younger readers.

But that's not how I got started. My (1979) debut novel centers a universe where the following exchange between two of the protagonists appears—they then being wrapped up in blankets and afterglow in the wake of a prolonged and enthusiastic post-reunion shag:

A soft chuckle in the darkness. “Lorn, remember that first time we shared at your place?” “That was a long time ago.” “It seems that way.” “—and my father yelled up the stairs, ‘What are you dooooooooing?’ “—and you yelled back, ‘We’re fuckinnnnnnnnnnng!’” “—and it was quiet for so long—” “—and then he started laughing—” “Yeah.”

Nor was this a one-off. This book and its sequels contain a fair number of passages in which human (and occasionally non-human) sexualities, both in the abstract and the experientially concrete, take center stage. And the mode in which they're expressed and discussed is intended for adults. Those sequences can probably be described as at least borderline erotica. (I certainly try had to be as graceful about such passages as I can, when and where it's appropriate to be.)

With this in mind, it's worth repeating what turns up in that earlier post, which came off a query to a ficcer about "how do you feel knowing that people may be jerking off to your work?":

I'm an entertainer. Writing's a form of entertainment. (And not just for the readership: for me, too.) To be aroused by art one's experienced is (almost by definition) to be entertained, I'd say...

Other people's art in these modes certainly is entertaining for me: and I desperately hope mine is for other people. (Almost all my more explicit writing is published only pseudonymously, which from my point of view is just fine. There's a fair amount of writing work out in the world that [for contractual or other business reasons] doesn't have my name on it. This is just more of the same.)

(Per that, adding here again my own tags from that earlier post:)

#and no I'm not going to let on where the smut is#why would i deny anyone the delights of the search#and of being repeatedly mistaken#while possibly finding smut writers who're better at it than i am#:)

Anyway, finally: from that earlier post—on nearly the thirty-eighth anniversary of something happening to me that would, just a year before the event, have seemed wildly unlikely—this note, unusually apposite because of what today is, and what's coming tomorrow.

I consider erotica—and its more casually-dressed (or undressed…) cousin, smut—to be perfectly legit forms of literary expression; ones that can soar to unexpected heights if you’re willing to put in the work. The sexy-stuff-writing muscle requires periodic exercise if it’s to remain viable and/or useful. So I exercise it. And being a 70-plus-year-old person who sometimes creaks audibly when she walks has done absolutely nothing to decrease my interest in the subject—the brain being, after all, the biggest sex organ, and the one least vulnerable to the depredations of time. If anything, nearly fifty years of experience (and more than three and a half decades of marriage to @petermorwood) have added… let’s just say nuance. 😏

So, happy Valentine's Day to all those who choose to celebrate, in whatever mode.

And to the Man Upstairs:

...See you in a few, sweetie. :)

[sacr1ficialang3l]

Can you read my mind? (I've been watching you.) 𓆩♡𓆪

DEAN WINCHESTER X CUPID!READER

SUMMARY: Dean and Sam get a little unexpected help with a weird case. 2.3k

WARNINGS: none. first meeting. fem!reader. dean being wary of the supernatural but weak to a pretty face.

NOTES: VERY late valentine's post. I was struck with inspiration at 2 in the morning. Idk if Valentines are a thing or if i made them up but whatever. This is my first time writing for supernatural and my first time writing a fanfic in years pls be nice. Enjoy<3

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” You sigh as you materialize behind the brothers, making them almost jump out of their skin. “Love all over the place.”

You ignore their flabbergasted expressions as you look around the crowded plaza. It was Valentine’s day, and the whole place was decorated with pink and red hearts, the white streamers hanging from the trees moving with the breeze as couples and groups of friends walked around.

“Who are you?” You ignore the shorter one’s question as your gaze focuses on two kids sitting on a bench.

You could feel how much they liked each other, but they sat facing opposite ways, hands on laps and eyes stuck to the ground. You sigh and swiftly move your manicured hand towards them, pink nails shining under the sunlight. You can feel the brothers’ wary eyes on you, but you simply watch as the boy on the bench suddenly gets a notification on his phone.

“I just won two tickets for the My Chem show tonight.” He announces to the girl, voice incredulous. As they both start celebrating, the boy shyly looks up and invites her to go with him. She says yes, and after a few giggles and babbled words, they get up from the bench and leave.

You can’t help the little squeak that comes out of your mouth, your pastel pink wavy hair bouncing as you give a little jump. You immediately turn to the Winchester brothers, covering your mouth with your hand

“Sorry. You would think that after so many years on the job I would get used to it.” You sigh, twirling a lock of your hair with your fingers. “But sometimes it still manages to make me all giddy.”

You turn around just to find a gun being pointed towards you, barrel pressed to your stomach as green eyes bore holes into your head. Who you assumed was Dean Winchester was glaring at you, scowling, while his brother tried to block civilians from noticing the firearm in his hand.

Who would’ve thought green could be so beautiful.

You chuckle, not intimidated at all, which only made the brothers look even more confused.

“What the fuck are you?” Dean asks, the gun digging a little deeper into your skin.

“Are you Cupid?” This time it is Sam, his eyes studying your tiny pink dress, pink hair, and pink boots. But more importantly, the little bow and arrow that hung from your back.

You give the tall guy a cheeky smile.

“You must be Sam, hm? I’ve heard you’re the smart one.” You look back at Dean, delicate hand wrapping around the gun that was still being pressed against you. “Why don’t we put this away before you hurt someone.” You keep your eyes on him as you lower the gun. He lets you, a lost look on his face as to why he is letting you.

You take a step back and smile again, all rosy cheeks and fluttering eyelashes. “To answer your question, I guess you can call me a cupid, but I’m not the Cupid.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Dean’s eyes roam up and down your body.

“We’ve met Cupid before.” Comes Sam’s explanation. “So, you work for him? Are you an angel?”

You hum softly, pouty lips pursing. “I don’t work for the Cupid you met, the angel. But you humans also call my boss that.” The brothers’ expressions stay equally clueless. “I work for Eros, the-”

“Greek god of love.” You send Sam a sweet smile for his right answer.

“And desire, yes!”

“So you’re a Goddess.” Dean affirms more than asks, and when you turn back to face him you are struck with his beauty once again. Both brothers were drop-dead gorgeous, but something about the sharpness in the older one’s features made you want to ask if he was in any way related to Lady Aphrodite.

“Oh, no. Gods no.” You shake your head, making the multiple silver jewelry in your ears clink. “We work for Eros. Think about us like a version of Artemis’ hunters.”

“Yeah, because that gives me so much clarity.” Dean’s voice was breathtakingly deep, it reminded you of being in Lord Ares’ presence. (Happened once, never again.)

“Gods are incredibly powerful, but they often need help from mortals to do certain deeds. Artemis’ hunters, Hecate’s priests and priestess, so on and so forth.” You explain quickly. Sam seemed to understand you perfectly, Dean still looked a bit like he wanted to shoot you. “We don’t have an official name like that, but you can call us Valentines.”

“So you, what? Go around making people fall in love?” He asks with skepticism. You sigh. Everyone always had the same wrong idea.

“We don’t make people fall in love, we simply… present them with opportunities.” You chuckle and turn to look around the plaza, teeth biting down on your lower lip as you try to look for an example. You find a blond guy who was messing around with his friends near an ice cream shop. Right behind him, a girl in roller skates was moving his way.

“See those two?” I ask the brothers, pointing towards the pair. “If I didn’t intervene, they would never cross paths. But their auras, they are compatible, and they’re both lonely.” You squint, concentrating. Aura reading wasn’t as easy as fake witches made it seem. “But if I just…” Once again, you move your hand delicately towards them.

Suddenly, Blond Boy's friend's milkshake falls to the ground. It causes Blond Boy to take several steps back, getting right in Roller Skates Girl’s way. She immediately tries to stop, but it makes her lose her balance. Blond Boy’s hands are instantly on her waist, preventing her from falling on her back. They look at each other, eyes lingering, and your job is done.

You turn to the Winchesters with a satisfied smile, your flowy skirt dancing around you as you twirl, and they just stare back at you with wide eyes.

“I can’t tell how I feel about it.” Declares Sam, making you snicker.

“If it makes you feel better, I can assure you I can only influence circumstances.” You sigh, looking back at the two lovebirds. They’re already exchanging numbers. “Whatever happens from here on out is in their hands.”

That seems to do the trick, at least for the younger brother. Dean still looked like he was going to reach for his gun anytime soon. You sigh again.

“Look, I am not here to cause trouble.” You raise your hands in surrender, bracelets sliding down your wrists. “I came to talk.”

“Why would you want to talk to us?” You start to walk down the plaza, a little skip to your step. You stop right on the edge of the plaza where you could look down at the sea, waves hitting against the asphalt in a calming manner. Both brothers share a confused look before following you.

“You two are here for a hunt, right?” You ask walking down the edge of the shoreline, go-go boots click-clacking against the cobblestone. “The deaths that have been happening? People killing people they love?”

“What do you know about it?” You turn around at Dean’s accusatory tone. His gun was back in his hand, and it makes you roll your eyes. His eyebrows raise in surprise.

Looks like there was an edge in between all that sugar-covered whimsy after all.

“You know, everyone says you are distrustful, but damn.” You tsk. Why was it always the cute ones that had the biggest attitude problems? “I wasn’t going to intervene, but when I found out that the Winchesters were in my zone, I had to do something. You two are kind of famous for wiping out any supernatural beings you come in contact with.” You continue to walk down the shoreline. When you get to a light pole, you twirl around it until you’re facing the brothers again. “Any other day, I would’ve just hidden until you finished your job, but it is Valentine’s. The boss likes us to be extra active today.”

It looked like Dean wants to retort, but Sam interrupts him. “What do you know about the case?”

Your smile fades a little, and you let go of the light pole, your shiny eyes dropping to the floor.

“You’re looking for an Anti-Valentine, or that’s what we call them.” Your cheeks blush with shame. “They’re like us, Eros’ followers, but they…”

“Turn evil?” Dean guesses sarcastically, and you nod.

“Why would they want people to kill who they love?” Asks Sam, crossing his arms. “I mean, you look like you love love.”

That makes you giggle. “It is… hard. To do this job.” You lean back into the light pole, looking out at the sea. “There’s only so many times you can make two people who are perfect for each other meet, only for them to cheat or hurt each other before you start to have doubts.” You bite your lip, doe eyes glossing with sadness.

“And that makes them turn evil?”

“Well, most Valentines have had doubts at some point in our lives. But Anti-Valentines, they start to think humans don’t deserve love. They start getting angry and hateful, and it starts to poison them.” You swallow harshly, looking down at the floor before your eyes meet Dean’s green one, and the heavy weight on your chest turns a little lighter. Huh. “Valentines can’t manipulate mortal’s emotions, but Anti-Valentines… They've learned how to blind humans with anger. I think you humans may call it a rage blackout or something.”

The brothers seem to be processing your words. Dean studies you slowly while Sam looks like he’s racking his brain for any information on Valentines. If you hadn’t been so sad, you would totally be flirting with Dean right now. Yes, Eros was the God of love, but everyone seemed to forget he was also the God of desire. You could be a hell of a vixen when you were in the mood.

“So, how do we kill it?” Asks Dean, always ready to fight. It was hot.

“That’s the problem.” You sigh for what felt like the millionth time in the last hour, twirling around the light pole once again, cheeky smile returning to your face. “If I tell you how to kill them, I tell you how to kill me.”

Dean’s eyebrow raises, but his mouth twitches into a half-smirk. He looks you up and down one more time before his tongue runs over his lower lip, earning an incredulous huff from Sam.

“So, what’s the deal?”

“I’ll tell you how to find the Anti-Valentine and how to kill it, and you promise not to come for me after.”

“You got yourself a deal, sweetheart.”

𓆩♡𓆪

Dean was soaked in black blood when you appeared in front of him again.

Sam and he had just finally killed the Anti-Valentine, after being thrown against walls and dodging heart-pointed arrows for what felt like hours. Looks like those little bows aren't only for the aesthetic.

So while Sam and Dean looked a little worse for wear as they tried to catch their breath, there you were, in the middle of a filthy warehouse looking like a literal goddess. Pastel pink hair perfectly styled, shiny lips and shiny eyeshadow, your pink boots not getting dirty at all even as you walked through the dirt on the ground. The worst part was how you were pink everywhere. He wasn’t talking about only your clothes and hair. Your cheeks, your knees, your elbows. The palm of your hands and your pouty lips. Made him wonder, just how many other places were pink too.

“Nice to see you two are as good as they say.” You walk close to where the brothers are leaning against a wall. They were covered in blood and grim, slight cuts all over from when they weren’t quick enough while avoiding the Anti-Valentine’s arrows.

You stand right in front of Dean, and there is a halo of light around you. You were literally glowing. You were just so glad the Anti-Valentine had been taken care of. You would’ve done something about it before the Winchesters got into town, but Valentines couldn’t attack other Valentines, even if they were evil.

“Happy to meet your expectations, sweetheart.” Dean grunts, hand pressing to his side where there was a long gash.

You extend your hand towards him with a grin, palm up and ring-clad fingers waving. “My blade, please and thank you.”

You had given the brothers your celestial bronze dagger to use against the Anti-Valentine with the promise that they would give it back.

“What if we ever need to kill another one of these, hm?” It is impressive how Dean managed to look so hot when he was slowly bleeding out from his side. “Or another Greek creature.”

You smirk, and with a little jump you land in front of him. You lean in, biting your full lower lip and blinking up at Dean, long eyelashes fluttering. “Then I guess you’ll have to give me a call, sweetheart.”

You softly press a hand to Dean’s chest, making his breath hitch. You subtly wrap your hand around your dagger in his jacket’s pocket. When his eyes drop down to your lips, you press your hand harder against his torso. Gods, he was firm.

In less than a second, all injuries in Dean’s body were cured. Even the gash on his side. He looks up at you in surprise, and you swiftly take a step back, dagger in hand. You let out a dreamy giggle, taking a step towards Sam and pressing a finger to the tip of his nose, making a little “boop” sound and curing him instantly too.

You take another little jump back, facing both brothers as you brush your hair behind your shoulder and dangle the dagger between your slender fingers. With one last giggle, you wink at Dean.

“See you later, boys.”

You disappear in a cloud of pastel pink smoke, leaving behind a smell of caramel and red velvet cake.

And you knew you were gonna see them again. After all, you had a soft spot for pretty things.

[sunrisecaminus]

Ultra Magnus x Government Agent Reader SFW

Summary - Ultra Magnus falls in love with an human Agent after realizing she has a sweet side to her personality.

Warnings: Light Hurt/Comfort

Never have you ever thought you would be seeing real aliens when you first met the Autobots. Being one of the Agents from the US Government, you were assigned to see if Agent Fowler was doing his freaking job. That man has not gotten anything done to defeat the Decepticons that are trying to destroy the world. Now, you have been best friends with Fowler ever since college, but dang from what you have been hearing from your boss, he has been getting lazier and lazier. It was your job to see if he should be fired or not and get a replacement.

After a few months at the base, you have realized two things. One, the Autobots don't have enough recourses to even kill one Decepticon. Two, Fowler has been working his ass off for everyone to survive. Optimus was very kind to you when you arrived and introduced everyone to you. Ultra Magnus was professional, but you can tell he did not like your presence. The US government have been yelling at them about sitting on their afts, while also not providing anything for their survival. He has been warned by Fowler and Prime that humans don't understand what they were going through and so they will be very uncooperative if the bots even tried to explain themselves. "Prime sir, we should not be having anymore interference with these human leaders. Non of them have even came up once to listen to reason." He stared at Optimus with a pleading look, he didn't like to be similar to Ratchet, but he understood why Ratchet hated almost all humans. Optimus looked up from the data pad and gave him a stern look. "Ultra Magnus, I understand your lack of faith my friend, but you have to remember the humans that have helped us so far. Agent Fowler is one of the reasons we have not been kicked from this planet, the children have saved our lives, and Agent Y/n is here to help us get more supplies from the human's government if we give her reason that we are efficient enough."

Ultra Magnus hated that Optimus was right, but he was a bit suspicious of the last sentence. "I am sorry sir, but Agent y/n has not even once reported to the government in three month. I don't think we are up to her standards at all." Optimus closes his eyes to think. Magnus was right about that, you have not been really doing anything around the base except observe everyone's movements and work. Hell Ratchet has been quite annoyed by your presence since he has to stay at the base for most of the missions. He is holding on to you though, giving you hope. Only one person has been supportive of you, and that was Fowler. He told Optimus whole stories about you saving his sorry ass from college professors all the time. He told him many stories of you supporting him and even giving him a place to stay when he needed it the most. Fowler has said though you were a calculated person, and never really showed your emotions a lot. It was hard to tell if you are being nice or just straight cold. "We shall see Ultra Magnus, though I cannot confirm if she is as troubling as you say. I will talk to Agent Fowler once more, so please look over the kids."

When Optimus walked off, Magnus stayed around to make sure Miko wasn't going to prank Ratchet and helped Ralph with any questions he had about Cybertron. He than starts to hear the clicking of heels from the elevator. You had a clip board in hand and was already writing something down. Your h/c (hair color) hair looked all neat and your outfit seemed nice and custom made. Walking over to Ratchet, you ask for his latest findings from last night's mission and both of you started to talk about work. Honestly if Ratchet had a scale for which human was more annoying, you were probably around in the middle. He was able to keep a conversation with you, but from far away he would grumble about things he didn't like that you did. After a few minutes you walked over to Ralph and Ultra Magnus. You stood behind the couch and watched as Ralph was making a nice online form about his cultural findings. Of course, it wasn't public for other humans to see, but if he ever forgot about something he could always click over to his notes and see what he put down. "Ah, you are doing so well Ralph. Although you spells that wrong, the symbol you put down actually has a small line going across the bottom." You pointed out something on Ralph's computer and he gasps. "Oh crap! Your right! Dang I thought I studied that!" Magnus sees you smile for the first time. "Oh it's ok. It's impressive to see you learn so much already after only a week. Better than what I could do."

After you turn around, walking back to the railing from across the base to keep writing in your clip board, Magnus looks at Ralph confused. "What were you and Agent y/n talking about?" Ralph looks up at Magnus and shares his screen for him to see. "Oh? Y/n is teaching me how to read your alphabet! She knows a lot about Iaconian and helped me learn so I can surprise Optimus later! Don't tell him though." He couldn't believe what he was hearing. You knew Iaconian?! When did you have the time to learn such a difficult language?! Magnus couldn't help, but be flabbergasted by the fact you took the time to learn Iaconian and finally had enough. Did you like them or not? Why were you not reporting to your bosses and why haven't you left yet? You were only here to stay for a week…why haven't you left yet? He was getting to the bottom of it one way for another. He excuses himself and walks over to you. You see that a shadow surrounds your body and looks up. "Oh, good evening Ultra Magnus." You put your pen away and stood up straight to give your full attention to him. Magnus narrows his eyes and leans down just a smidge to be a bit closure to your frame. Look he may not like you, but at the very least he did not like intimidating people who are not Decepticons. "I need to speak with you Agent y/n. You have been keeping secrets from Prime and the rest of us, but now all of sudden you are learning Iaconian? What is your motivation?"

The smile that grew on your face made him a bit taken a back by the reaction. The smile looked nice on you, but he wasn't going to tell you that. "I have been monitoring everyone's work so I can give a long report to the government if they should give you their energon findings." WHAT?! The government had not only supplies, but they had the one resource they have been dying to get this whole time?! He clenched his hands into fists and looked angry. "You have energon is your procession? That stuff is useless for your species. Why didn't you report us being useful sooner. We could use those energon cubes to help give us more energy to fight for your planet." Before he could get even more angry, you put a hand up to shut him up. "Do not worry, I have already reported to them about you all working your hardest even with such little food. They needed a better report from me just in case you were pretending to be efficient for a week, so they have extended my stay for five months. At the end of my stay I will be in a very important meeting with all the higher ups to give my findings. Then they will happily give you all the crates they have by helicopter or by truck, just matters how much they are willing to give you." He could not believe this right now. This was the worse news he could get from you and he is trying not to go ape shit. "I understand this could be frustrating right now, but understand I am trying to poke them as much as I can to give you what you need. All of you have past the bar. In my book I would have given you everything by now after the first week. Right now I can't do anything but listen to their orders so you can be granted free supplies. Oh, and Optimus told me about where he lived back on Cybertron, I was curious about your culture so I had Bumblebee and Ralph help me learn. I am now known as one of the only human translators for Cybertronians and Humans. Luckily it seems you all already know English, though I would not have minded to be your spokes person."

This kind of made his anger fade…Your voice was not cold to him anymore. It seemed…sweet. This was the most care he has heard from you and it made him feel things he didn't want to feel. "W-well I appreciate you trying your best from what you have." Did he just stutter?! Oh Primus no, he needs to control himself. Why was he feeling such lovely feelings for you now?! He was just pissed a moment ago! You snapped him out of his staring and giggled. "Awe you are too kind. I need to go to Fowler now. I will see you before you all charge for the night, ok?" He nods and watches you leave. Your laugh was so cute. He needs to stop himself from feeling this way before he says something he is going to regret.

...

Bonus: Ratchet glares at Ultra Magnus while he scans him. "So a professional lady who works at the top has taken an interest in our species, her personality is a sweet yet serious person who gets the work done before she does anything else?" Sighing, Ratchet grabs his data pad and walks over to Ultra Magnus who looks at him for an answer to his condition. "You are not sick, you are just an idiot who fell in love with a fleshy."

[mrkerina]

Unspoken vows 𓍼 Park Jisung

— in which an argument left you to discover how much he loves you, through his silent ways.

Pairing — Park Jisung (nct) x fem!reader

Word count — 2841

Content — Who knew paper rings could be so meaningful? Frustration left you crushing the neatly folded paper rings from your boyfriend, only to discover the hidden messages written in them.

M.list + Author’s note — inspired by The Ex Vows by Jessica Joyce didn’t even like the book that much but the paper rings scene stuck with me 😞 also idk if writing in she/her compared to you/your is better or not.

Jisung had never been big on expressing his feelings openly, even with her. He was always the mediator when it came to fights, always being the first one to repent even when she was at fault. Those moments were rare though, with him having a soft spot only for her, he had always soothed her anger before it escalated into an argument between them. Even though he doesn’t blatantly show his feelings, she always understood his quiet affection reserved just for her – the way his eyes always lingered on her as she left the room, a silent yearning in them as if the time they spent together was not enough.

He had always been too shy to voice his affections aloud, only when she forces him to then does he manage to mumble a soft “I love you”, with his cheeks flushing pink at the effort. Her teasing smile after had always been worth it though. That had always been how it was between the two of them, her being the one to cling onto him, sprouting whatever endearments that came to her mind while he quietly savoured them all, warmth spreading throughout his body. He showed his affections in other ways, ways that even she never realised before until a vulnerable midnight talk left him admitting to them, or if she discovers it for herself.

Contrary to popular belief, one thing Jisung was good at was folding paper rings. It all started one mundane valentines day, after the two of you had came back home from your date. With her splayed out on the bed, her head rested on his lap as she scrolled through her social media. His fingers seemed to have a mind of their own as they played with her hair, twisting and twirling them around his fingers. “Look at this oh my gosh, this is adorable!” she squealed as she turned over her phone to show him the jar of stars that her friend had posted online, a gift from their boyfriend for valentines day. Jisung squinted at the screen before his eyes flicked downwards to her face, the twinkle in her eyes and the grin on her lips that seemed to light up her entire face. 

“That’s nice,” he replied simply, his lips curving up as he saw the disbelief on her face when she thought that his reaction was too nonchalant. With a pout, she went back to scrolling on her phone at all the valentines day posts, completely oblivious to the boy who had picked up his phone by the bedside table and started to search up origami tutorials.

And that was how it all started, Jisung learning how to fold the world’s most perfect paper rings from any scraps of paper he found, it becoming a habit along the way. He would leave a random paper ring with a note by the kitchen counter sometimes, whenever he had to leave early for work. She cherished every last one of them though, keeping each one stored safely in a glass jar that he had given her after she requested for one. It felt like a silent promise of some sort, like he was signalling to her that she was it for him, in his own little ways, as if one day it wouldn’t be a scrappy paper ring that was being given to her. Her heart filled with joy every time she caught sight of one, a quiet reminder that he did indeed love her.

Maybe that was why everything hurt so much in the first place. Despite all the simple reminders of his affections that he displayed nakedly for her, it was never enough for her as compared to saying the words itself. The doubts crept in whenever her supposed “friends” would point out how clingy she was and how indifferent he was. It was times like this when she needed the confirmation the most when she forgot the bulk of what he did for her, to show how much he did indeed love her. 

Action always seemed louder than words for him, but words were always louder for her. That night, after a hard day at work, it was like an impending storm was raging inside her, threatening to explode. She couldn’t help it, her insecurities were flooding her tenfold, unable to shove the bitterness that coated her tongue to the back of her mind. 

The moment Jisung came home, he noticed the silence in the house. He waited at the door for a beat, waiting for the familiar padding of hastened footsteps that usually came the moment he entered through the door followed by the scent of flowers and daydream. Today, though, the lights were turned off, an ominous air engulfed the place. Panicked, Jisung was quick to take off his shoes and throw his bag to the side, not caring about where it landed. “Y/n? Are you okay? Are you sick or anything?” He called out to her, his heart racing as he turned on the lights to find her on the couch, eyes gleaming with unshed tears. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he worriedly questioned as he rushed to her side, reaching out to cup her cheeks but stopping just before he touched her. “Can I?” he asked, a considerate request yet it seemed to be her undoing.

“Why do you act like we’re strangers, we’ve been dating for years, you can touch me whenever you want to without asking,” she ranted bitterly, tears starting to spill out of her eyes. 

Alarmed, Jisung started to wreck his brain for ways to calm her down but came short. “You know it’s not like that, I just don’t want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable,” he replied.

“That’s the thing! You don’t do anything! Is it so hard to just tell me that you love me once in a while?” she spewed out, her words seeming to come out of her without a thought, even when deep in her heart she knew they weren’t true. Out of everyone she had dated, Jisung was the most affectionate person she ever met, the one who affected her in a way no one else had. Maybe that was why it hurt so much too. “It’s just- It’s just that it comes to other people so easily why can’t it be like that for us too?” she choked on her words.

Jisung’s eyes darkened, eyes narrowing on her, his face a mask of aloofness despite the piercing stab he felt in his chest with every word that left her lips. “You know I do a lot for you, even though I don’t say it,” he simply stated, his chest ached in longing to touch her but he felt that it wasn’t the time. He was too cowardly, afraid that something he did could make the situation worse, too terrified to lose her. 

“Well, maybe it’s not enough,” she murmured angrily, his indifference maddening as she stood up and walked off to their shared bedroom before locking the door shut, not giving him a chance to chase after her. 

Sobs escaped her lips, tears moistening her cheeks and sleeves as she tried desperately to wipe them away, to seem stronger than she felt. She sat next to their bed, pulling her knees to her chest as she leant back against the bed frame. She knew she was being unreasonable but she couldn’t bring herself to care. The heaviness in her heart, and the ill thoughts whirling through her mind. It all felt suffocating, like the room was closing in on her and leaving her to desperately scurry for air.

Needing something to vent her numbing disappointment on, she grasped the jar by the bedside table, turning the cap open and pouring the contents out onto the floor. Seeing the number of paper rings he folded spilled out onto the floor barely gave her much satisfaction, just another reminder of another method he used to not speak the words. Frustratingly, she took one of the less sturdy paper rings – one that was done using a gum wrapper – before crushing it in her hands and letting it fall. The shape ruined and the wrapper slightly teared. However, despite her tears blurring her vision, she took notice of the tips of letters being written on the folded piece of wrapper as it unfolded slightly from her damage. Her curiosity piqued, she took hold of the ring again, now carefully unfolding the wrapper to find writings inside.

46. Because you’re so hardworking.

47. Because you always come running out to hug me the moment I step through the door after a long day at work, and that is the best part of my every day.

48. Because you secretly love it when I play with your hair.

Perplexed, she started unfolding every single one of the paper rings he had given her, to find writings inside each one. She placed them all in chronological order, her hands moving in a frenzy as she tried to uncover whatever he was doing or trying to say.

61. Because you always cook dinner for me.

62. Because you are so beautiful, I can’t breathe when I look at you sometimes.

63. Because you tolerate me and my difficulties with expressing my feelings.

55. Because of the way you look at me like I hold up the moon and the stars, god I wish you will always look at me like that.

56. Because you sing in the shower (you sound bad but it’s adorable).

57. Because you would do anything for me too.

Tears flowed, but for a different reason now. Each sentence clearly written with those three unspoken words meant to be at the start. She let out a ridicule laugh, of course even when he was saying so much through each sentence he still doesn’t say the words – but that seemed so redundant now as she read each reason why he loved her so much. Each declaration filled with a sense of devotion that he felt towards her, a kind of loving warmth that tingled through her bones. And then there were those that sounded more solemn, like it was written after a fight the two of them had.

78. Even though we argue sometimes.

79. Even though I can’t ever seem to give you everything you want.

80. Even though I can’t seem to tell you that I love you when you need to hear it most.

81. Even though those three words can’t seem to encapsulate the overwhelming feelings I have for you.

82. Even though you’re angry at me but all I can think about is how cute you look with your eyebrows furrowed and how much I want to touch you when you’re mad.

83. Even when I can’t seem to bring myself to touch you when you’re mad because I am so cowardly and afraid to lose you, as if you are some fragile thing when you are the strongest person I know.

Her heart ached painfully, she could feel the longing that weaved together with his words. It was then when she did understand something, that he would always love her through thick and thin. No matter the occasion, he had always loved her. That was why the paper rings never came in any significant dates, just random days of the year. Each one of them to secretly remind her of how much he did in fact love her, at any point of time in his life. She lets out a laugh, of course he was saying his affections quietly, without her knowing. All the words left in plain sight for her to read but she simply didn’t know. And he is right, the fact that he spent the effort to do all this, with his actions and scribing out every word explaining his feelings just because he knew how much she loved when the words were spoken as a confirmation, he has done so much for her, she couldn’t even begin to list down what. He was always someone who spoke through his actions but he took the effort to write out the words just for her.

With a new sense of conviction and an overwhelming sense of guilt, she stood back up on her feet, the paper rings all no longer in shape. She strided to the door, ready to go out and apologise to him before he has a chance to take all the blame for himself. She flung the door open, only to be greeted by Jisung standing there. A tray of food on one hand while his other was held up mid-air like he was just about to knock. His eyes widened slightly in surprise, his hair tousled like he had raked his fingers through the strands repeatedly in distress. 

“What are you doing?” She said, even though she very much knew what exactly he was doing. Repenting. Again, for something that wasn’t his wrongdoing. Her eyes caught sight of the paper ring rested by the side of the cutlery, folded using a napkin meant for wiping her mouth. She immediately reached forward, taking it into her hand and unfolding it. Jisung flinched from her sudden eagerness, a pink flush creeping up his neck as he watched her unfold the ring.

98. Because you’re the kindest person I’ve ever met even when your friends aren’t the best influence. (no shade)

99. Even though I can’t seem to treat you the way you deserve.

100. Because I love you. I love you so fucking much it kills me on the inside. Because if you ever decide to leave me, my heart would leave with you, because it belongs to you, it always has.

The tears were streaming down her cheeks by now, full blown sobs escaped her lips. She leaped forward and swung her arms around him, unable to keep from being apart anymore. “Woah wait the food,” he said anxiously as he stabilised his other hand holding the tray, while his other arm came to circle around her waist. “What’s wrong? Did I do something again? I’m sorry I knew it was too much I shouldn’t have done that. It’s just reasons why I love you, I’m sorry I don’t say it enough. Actually, all the paper rings are all-” his rambling got cut off by a quick kiss on his lips. Her salty tears touching his lips, making his chest tighten. He never wanted to hurt her, never. Watching her in this state is more than he could ever take.

“I know you dummy, you stupid dummy. But you’re my dummy,” she scolded as she punched his chest with each word. His gaze eventually landing on the unfolded paper rings on the floor of their room, and understanding dawned on him. “Yeah I just found out when I was crushing one of them,” she mumbled against his shirt that was now wet from her tears. “Why did you not tell me?” 

Jisung softened, pushing her slightly to enter the room and placing the tray of food down by the bedside table before sitting down on the bed and placing her on his lap. “I was just about to, you were suppose to eat then use the napkin you know for the grand reveal,” a boyish smile tugged at his lip as he spoke, his thumbs gently wiping away her tears. “I just didn’t know how else to tell you, everytime I want to say it, it feels like my there is a lump in my throat and I don’t know how to explain it. I love you was never enough to describe what I felt for you and I just struggled with saying it. But if you want to I will try to say it more, if it makes you feel better,” he babbled, his eyes anxiously gazing into hers, carefully analyzing her expression.

“Well for one, I don’t ever want to make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with. And you’re right, this is way more meaningful and the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” her voice softened, fingers rearranging and tidying his messy hair. “I’m sorry, I overreacted, I know you do everything for me. I was being unreasonable and I let my insecurities and other people’s words get to me, even when deep inside I know you always did have your own ways in showing that you love me. And for that, I love you. I love you so much sometimes it feels so suffocating,” she finished. 

In the quiet room, the two discovered that there was more to simply saying that they love each other. Jisung’s breaths were ragged as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, then to the tip of her nose, then to each eyelid and cheek, before his soft lips met hers. “I love you,” he murmured, with his eyes sparkling like stars in the vast night sky.

[bbrainr0t]

For when you flower II

Masterlist

Pairing: Emperor Caracalla x Greek!woman/reader x Emperor Geta

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, hints of PTSD/bad mental health, imbalance in the relationship (sexism, oppression, etc.), toxic, mentions of violence, blood, death, and slavery

Tags: Enemies to lovers (?), triangle drama/love (but no incest!!), unhealthy/toxic dynamics, slave x masters, no use of y/n, 1st person narrative

Summary: She wakes in another unknown place. Healed and alone, she ponders and dares to explore - but the peace is only sweet for a short while. Suddenly, images flashes before her eyes, and while she feels all hope is lost once more, a man holds her. A man unknown or is he?

Word count: 2.2K

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the love and support on the first chapter. It's gotten me all riled up and so inspired that you guys got me writing every night :,))) It really means a lot to me. Happy valentines! I hope whatever plans you have turn out to be enjoyable. I am sitting alone with wine, pizza, and Catullus (a roman poet) that I have to translate :pppp My ideal night honestly. (i'll probably also write... tihi)

Dictionary for this chapter:

Chiton = a form of tunic worn by men and women of ancient greek Agora = the central place of a city state, where people would tend their businesses and politics. Everything important happened here. Hellas = The ancient greek name for greece

It was not long after my arrival at the marble house that I was in the hands of a medic. A flute was playing off in the far distance and chatter were daring to make its way past the curtains, which kept me safe.  

I had felt exposed when I woke up. I was dressed in a finer material, but I did not feel like any hands had touched me. I felt clean. The medic had tended to me and poured a liquid down my throat that no longer scratches. My head feels clearer.

I woke up in a bed of straws covered in silk – a material I didn’t think I ever would get to feel again. The smoothest of all and the softest to touch. Although it made me feel at ease at first, an eerie feeling now replaces it and creeps through the cracks of the walls. Stone walls filled with words and greetings. Words, I cannot read, but still, I understand.

This room does not look to resemble the marble room in which I fainted. Here I feel a peace, a quiet before the storm, but it doesn’t cover its intentions – they are spelt out all over. It’s me, my bed, a side table and a little window at the top. By the looks of it, there is no light outside, so it must be night.

With a deep inhale I dare myself to feel the engravings. My fingers stumbling over each dent, each scratch filled with history. A kind feeling of doom invites itself inside my heart. I’m not the first to be here. A smile hitches and pushes my cheeks aside. I do not know why this agony from past slaves is giving me such cheer. It feels a waste to mourn the dead.

Whatever they’ve given me, I think to myself, I would like an ocean of that.

There is no chaos other than outside the curtains, and even there it has seemed to calm down. The only other life nearby seems to be the flame dancing in the dark beside the bed. I let my fingers wander down my drapes as I pull myself up to sit. It’s a chiton in a pale white with subtle embroidery of gold. It echoes the few moments in the marble room, almost like a reflection of the endearing pillars.

Our pillars.

My jaw tenses. No slave bears these drapes that I am sure of. But I am not sure if I want to admit to it. Had my destiny shifted once more? There is no blur now to confuse, so it must be true. What are these drapes supposed tell me about their intentions with me?

The silk beneath me suddenly gets a whole new meaning, it’s almost like an apology. But who is it from? The effect of the mystery liquid is wearing out. The ache is coming back but it’s starting to feel wrong. Am I to feel gratitude?

The emperors had not touched me, not that I would’ve felt it, but no matter how hard I search I see no filth.

I had only gotten a glimpse of them. An idea of who they really were. In Hellas they were known as the worst of mankind, especially after the attack, but that voice of … Caracalla were no man. It was a tormented soul. And, I suppose, Geta were no tyrant. He sounded as common as a sparrow. It was the riches that alienates them in my head. The blood of my people around their necks. My brothers and sisters’ nooses twinkling on their chest - as I only can imagine. I never got a real look at them. I do not know how they look.

Are they nearby? How was I to know.

I push my feet over the bedside and let my bare feet meet the cold floor. The chiton following swiftly and rhythmically. Slowly, I make my way towards the curtain and try to ease my curiosity by softly pulling it aside. I only dare to do so because the only noise that can be heard is one merely echoing like a word under water.   I find myself looking at another wall which stretches to both the right and the left. It’s small and narrow like a tunnel. I must be underground. I wait a second before stepping outside, carefully tiptoeing to make no sound. There is no one, and if there truly is no one, I have a chance at escape. My first in months.

There is a light to my right, which seemingly is leading upstairs. It’s a chance to be taken.

Horrors return to my head. Images. Blood. Screams. Voices.

I grab a hold of my head, squint my eyes close. I must make it stop. But the images never stop. They feel so real. I see them so clearly.

Wasted bodies on the shore, by the agora. No politics, only war flooded the streets.

“Quiet!” Is the clearest thing I hear.

The images keep changing. I see my brother on the beach. His head is underwater. His body on shore. His clothes unraveled. There’s laughter and humiliation. The soldiers, they grab the body.

I lean to my right up against the engravements, hoping that history will hold me one last time.

“Shh! Quiet!” It’s an intruder to my nightmare.

Suddenly I feel myself wheezing, struggling to pull air in my lungs. I become strangely aware of my body beneath the fabric. It feels as if a hand grabs at my waist. Tears start to stream, unfortunately they have returned, but somehow, they make the wall seem less coarse. A hand between me and the wall.

The weight of my body disappears as my feet fall beneath me, but I do not hit the floor.

“Stop… stop… I do not know how to make this stop.” The voice becomes clearer. It feels too real and too foreign to be in my head. I continue to puff. My lungs crumbling beneath my rib cage.

There’s a pain placed not in my heart but on my cheek. It stings. Senses rush back and I hear sobbing, not only of my own but also of somebody else. A mutual in this pain. I force my eyes open, slowly not to blind myself.

It’s a man. Snot running down over his rosa lips and unshaved chin. His cheekbones spotted with small faults and scratches. His hair messy and slightly curled, the color a shade of pure but dirty gold, almost a shade of orange. His eyes red and irritated, filled with tears, showing pure distress. They are glassy, reflecting every feeling within me. “Please stop.” His voice, so coarse like he has been screaming.

There is a sound of boots beating the ground, armor clashing against itself. The man is quick pull me back behind my protective curtain, where I probably should’ve stayed. I trip and so does he, but he is quick to try and save me from hitting the floor rather than himself. I gasp, feeling his hand on my back – the other covering my mouth. He sits us down on the ground. My knees and his slightly scratched by this movement. Fear is raging in the depths of his eyes. He clenches his hand against my mouth, lightly scratching my skin. I quiver without sound.

The boots pass by, and the man lets go, but only for a second. His thumbs remove my tears eagerly and then cupping my jaw. Usually I would be afraid, because no man holds a woman in such way without it being with dirty intention – but this is different. He’s holding me like he had lost me. A touch so rough and selfish yet so caring. I am frozen in his touch.

There is a calm.

He does not dare to break the silence. He’s busy removing every sign of ache that might’ve trailed my face. I just remain still and watch his every move.

He’s wearing a white toga, which barely covers up his body as intended, revealing a hairy chest. His arm is slightly toned but as his cheeks, there is a layer of fat bulging more than muscle. This is a man of status but not far up. Perhaps only a slave, on the run. Perhaps he is just like me.

“Who are you…?” I whisper in Latin, cautiously, examining his face, waiting for a reaction.  I dare not to think that this is another one of my hallucinations. This feels too real. Too raw.

He seems slightly surprised by my question at the same time as his eyes somewhat clears up. He sniffs. “Who am I?” His jaw moves astray like he is holding back. Like I should know.

I nod hesitantly. By the looks of it, he is not in his right mind. But neither am I, so I dare not trust every thought popping in my head. I hold tight onto the feeling of gratitude towards this stranger as it keeps me at bay. He’s still shaking, and so am I.

“That… that doesn’t matter.” He sniffs. His voice seems so fragile that I could imagine it would break if the tiniest of winds would try to puff it off balance.

“…Okay.” I softly respond and look into his eyes. His blue, naked eyes.

He is looking from one eye to the other. No other words are needed. The contact is all we both need to calm. I notice he too has stopped crying. I can only wonder what has caused him pain. I reach out tentatively to dry his tears in the same manner, but before I reach his face, he grabs my wrists. He’s still on guard.

“It’s… it’s okay.” Is my only try at reassuring him.

His only response is a single nod as he slowly lets go, dropping his hands to his lap. And so, I tend to his distress as a return of his kindness. His face softening for every tear I remove. I grab the silk off the bed to dry his nose, patting it carefully to not disturb the calm breathing.

“I will keep you safe.” He proclaims and sounds if he is promising it more to himself than me. “I will remember you tomorrow and claim you as mine.”

The words rush through my bloodstream like burning iron, daring to turn cold and keep my body in shape, frozen in movement. The words “claim you as mine” echo.

His eyes seem quick to worry, grabbing a hold of my wrists once more, but this time to pull me in to hold me at his chest. His arms are clamming my body close. An act so compassionate, a feeling so claustrophobic. Merely four words and all hope are lost. Reality hitting, the imbalance revealing itself. His voice returning in my head, not as how he just spoke but as a reminiscence from earlier. The burdened.

It's the emperor.

Questions arise. What is he doing here? Why is he being chased? What has he done? Why is he holding me so close, so dear? I am not his friend; I am his enemy. Does he not know?

“I know how you feel.” The burdened sniffs. “I know how you feel right now. I knew it from the moment I saw you. You and I are the same.” His hand goes to grasp my head once more, squeezing me closer, choking me lightly. Or maybe I’m just holding my breath.

He knows not of my pain.

“That man was so cruel. He knows nothing of health. Nothing!” His fingers turn to pierce my scalp, but inventively as he is quick to stop again. “Oh- I’m so sorry – so sorry, meus flos.”

He speaks of words I do not know. I try to suppress the panic, not to alarm him. I am afraid of a reaction. I place my hand against his toga, pushing myself slightly away, and he softens his touch, letting me go. Scared, I let my eyes land on him again. I try to take every bit of him in. One of the men responsible of my lands abuse.

I should’ve known it was him. I should’ve stood on guard. He is nothing like me. Not at all. He is of wealth, obtained from plunder of the poor, of me.  

But why is he showing me mercy? Is this a cruel joke played by the Gods? Oh, how they mock me.

“I do not wish to hurt you.” He shakes his head childlike. The personality from earlier taking shape right before me.

He reaches his hand to hold my jaw once more, but I move away instinctively. And oh, how it seems to hurt him, but only for a short while.

“You’re right. We need rest.” I am unsure wherever he is imagining that I told him off. “GUARDS!”

The sudden yell startles me, and fear grabs me once more. What is he going to do??

As quick as a water droplet hits the surface, guards dressed in armor, wearing purple come maraging in. I have no time to react.

“My emperor-“

“Enough! Escort me and meus flos to my bedroom. And bring her a separate bed.”  

The guards look shocked, speechless even.

“QUICKLY!”

Apollo, what are you doing to me?

Next chapter

Taglist: @syraxnyra, @omg-hellgirl, @t6gse370, @duckyhowls, @littlemissholy

[jvkeslvr]

so i celebrate you, it's all about you (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

for skz' yang jeongin !

synopsis: for jeongin's birthday, you tried (but failed) to make a birthday cake from scratch. genre: fluff, established relationship pairing: non idol! bf!jeongin x reader ft. felix wc: 767 a/n: happy birthday jeongin!! to celebrate his birthday, i thought why not celebrate by writing something sweet, so thanks to this prompt by @novelbear, i came up with this. i really hope you enjoy reading, please reblog to show support, thank you <3 wanna go back? ↺

on a sunny, cold afternoon, you decided you were going to bake a birthday cake for your boyfriend, jeongin. the idea came to you out of nowhere, but the thought of making something for someone that you love, for their birthday, filled your heart with warmth. why not make something cute and sweet like him, right?

with the help of google, you found a random recipe online. you gathered all of the ingredients that you could find: eggs, flour, sugar, and butter, and just a little bit of hope. you remembered that there were some cute decorations lying around the apartment that you had bought sometime ago.

now, you aren't a baker per say, you maybe baked cookies or brownies from time to time, but not a whole cake! by yourself, no less.

as soon as you got started, things began to go a little...wrong.

first, as you were putting the dry ingredients together: the sugar, butter and flour, the little electrical mixer (that you got as a christmas gift) somehow sent everything everywhere—the floor, the countertop, your hair, with a thin layer of white flour dusting your clothes. ignoring it, you then added the wet ingredients, but karma has a funny sense of humor. the cake batter, however, wasn't cooperating. it was too thick.

'maybe i added too much flour?, maybe the butter wasn't melted enough? let's see what happens when i put it into the pan,' you thought to yourself. you shrugged it off and continued on. you add the batter into a pan, and then into the oven.

you could footsteps and shortly after some laughter, followed with a *click*.

you hold your head up to lock eyes with jeongin and felix. with flushed cheeks, you decided to throw flour in the directions of the two boys. "delete that, right now!" you say sheepishly, grabbing a hand towel to wipe off your face. they, of course, dodge the dust cloud of flour.

felix, the one who snapped the photo of you, walks over to the counter, to show you the picture he took—you were covered in flour and batter. the batter still stuck to your hair.

"are you trying to bake a cake?" felix asks, stifling in his laugh.

"yeah.." you sound defeated. "i think i put the mixer on too high and it sent everything...everywhere,"

jeongin comes around the corner with an apron and heads one to felix. jeongin walks over to you, seeing you in your defeated state, gives you a small, comforting hug. he whispers "hey it's okay, we'll help you bake it." he gives you a kiss on the head. you sniffle softly as you squeeze his hand.

not long after you guys got settled, making the icing and getting the decorations ready, when a smell of something vaguely...burnt filled up the kitchen. the timer went off, jeongin slowly approached the oven, opening the door to check, only to find the cake had unevenly puffed up on one side, creating an accidental looking "mountain" in the middle of it.

you all burst out laughing, snapping photo after photo of the mishap.

"welp, it's not what i had envisioned but, hey! a cake's a cake," you shrug, causing the two boys to chuckle.

despite trying your best at decorating the cake with the icing, you carefully placing a little birthday candle on top, lit it, and started recording. felix went to go turn the lights off, which showcased the cake more.

"happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you," you and felix sang around jeongin. who then blew out the cake. you stopped recording at this point.

"happy birthday, jeongin. i love you so much," you kiss him on the cheek, on the forehead, and finally on the lips.

you fetched up 3 forks, handing them out as you guys start to dig into the cake. the instant regret washed all of your faces.

"oh my—" you all say in unison. everyone running around as you all spit out the "cake". "i'm not gonna lie, it's not...the best," you sheepishly say, scratching the back of your neck.

"should we attempt to bake another or just head to the store and get another?" you giggle as you look between jeongin and felix.

"let's just go to the store," jeongin replies, grabbing the keys from the bowl you guys keep by the door, felix running to put his shoes on.

now you know you can't exactly bake but, at least you know you tried (with love). because honestly that's just how life goes sometimes—and it's all apart of the fun.

banner by @dollywons

[sapphiresaphics]

I started this blog because I wanted reblog positive posts about Arcane and sapphic content in general. I was never expecting that it would turn into a “defend Arcane” account because I never expected this HUGE backlash to the second season of Arcane.

But in that time I’ve been observing the various reasons for WHY this backlash exists and over time I’ve noticed a distinct pattern in them.

Arcane vs Puritanism

To get into this you need to understand that America was built upon puritanical ideals. The first major settlers to America came here because they felt persecuted by Catholics in England. And while the foundation of America as a country was based more on agnostic beliefs, those underlying puritanical christian beliefs persevere to this day.

Puritans believe that if you commit a sin, you are forever tainted and no amount of piety will remove this dirtying of the soul in the eyes of god. As a result they do everything in their power to adhere to STRICT MORAL CODES. The idea being, if you never compromise on your morals, you will never be tained and god will accept you into the Kingdom of Heaven.

This isn’t a purely American concept, of course, but Americans definitely do things to the EXTREEM. And as a result both conservatives AND liberals have a tendency to have extremely STRONG senses of moral purity. Conservatives tend to want to uphold the systems in place (copaganda) while liberals want to tear down all the systems of oppression (jinx did nothing wrong).

Additionally, with the rise of kids animated shows being more nuanced, a lot of the people who are watching Arcane are on the young side. They are exposed to a world where they have these heightened moral ideals, and the media they watch backs up their morality.

A show like Gravity Falls (for example) might have some questionable jokes here and there, but at the end of the day the good guys are good, and the bad guys are bad. Bad guys get punished, good guys are rewarded. The puritan morality is upheld.

And therein lies the problem. Arcane isn’t interested in being morally pure. It’s a very HUMAN story about the ways in which systems and people perpetuate a cycle of violence that affects everybody. That’s not even a “centrist” belief, either, but because of this puritanical framework of black and white morality, BOTH sides have ironically condemned the show for not following through on their chosen ideology enough.

This is why characters like Ambessa aren’t discussed by the Arcane Critical crowd. She’s OBVIOUSLY a bad guy. She does BAD things. And in the end, she is “punished” for her transgressions and dies. Death is ALWAYS a suitable punishment in purity culture. If a character dies, it’s because they transgressed in some way and need to be punished.

(Incidentally this is where the “bury your gays” trope comes from. Because being gay was seen as being morally un-pure, and as such if you depicted a gay character in g your story you MUST kill them off by the end to maintain the status quo.)

And this is WHY characters like Caitlyn are so hotly debated. Because Caitlyn represents the rich and powerful and therefor “bad” class of people. She does morally questionable things, and therefor she taints her soul and NEEDS to be punished.

But… she doesn’t die. Nobody holds her “accountable” for her crimes. Losing an eye isn’t suitable punishment and she ends up with the woman she loved. That’s… that is not morally pure writing! That’s the show REWARDING her for doing BAD things! We can’t have that! That’s WRONG! That’s not how you write a story! The writers SUCK! This is INCONSISTENT!!!

This is also why they can like characters like Silco. Because for all of his faults, he dies. He is punished. This is also why they can like season 1 more. The bad people (Piltover) are punished by jinx. Silco, (the bad guy) is punished with death.

This is why they hate the writing in season 2 in regards to Zaun and Piltover. It’s not that the writers dropped the storyline of the class struggles, it’s that Piltover wasn’t PUNISHED enough for their crimes and are allowed to continue to oppress the poor people of Zaun.

“That’s not good writing! If you set up a story about classism (good v bad) then you MUST have bad lose!”

This is also why they have to EXAGGERATE the crimes of characters. Because Caitlyn tactically JUST going after Jinx isn’t enough. She must’ve GASSED THE WHOLE CITY OF ZAUN! Because she’s an OPPRESSOR. And Piltover is EVIL. And BAD things have to happen to BAD people! And since these punishable bad things don’t happen to Caitlyn, they have to exaggerate her crimes to justify WHY the writers suck. Because clearly at this point it MUST be the writers fault for failing to punish Caitlyn for her crimes!

I do not think this applies to every aspect of the criticisms I’ve seen against Season 2. I’ve admitted myself that there are definitely some structural issues to the season. But the more I read the “complaints” from the most vocal people about Arcane Season 2, the more I’m realizing that it really does boil down to this idea of black and white moral purity and accountability.

Which is not what a show about morally grey characters was EVER going to satisfy.

[kinardsevan]

my heart, my life, will never be the same

maybe, someday, love - part 4 cw: hospitalization, helicopter crash, related injuries; word count: 1991, total wc: 6458 (sorry, yall. I got the flu and that kicked my ass for the better half of the past two weeks. But here's the next--possibly final--part!)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Three days. Three days and Burr holes is what it takes for Evan to stop seizing and wake up. Tommy fights for every minute he’s allowed to leave his own room and cross the hall the first two days, even though is body is far from capable of handling the movement. By the third day, his doctors are starting to discuss moving him to the telemetry floor, but every moment that he’s awake and confined to his own room is another fight with his doctors and their family to let him get to Evan’s side and be there for him. Still, being down a spleen and part of his liver is nothing to scoff at. 

He’s pushing his luck when he finally sees Evan’s eyes flutter, already exhausted and past the twenty-minute allowed visitation that his nurses have set him at. He straightens up immediately in his wheelchair, squeezing the younger man’s hand. 

“Come on baby, I’m right here,” he says softly. Evan tries to groan, still on the ventilator for his body to have one less thing to stress on in its healing state. His eyes flutter again, and Tommy strokes his thumb over the back of his knuckles, watching him with rapt attention. It takes a few more seconds, but Evan’s eyes finally slide open, quickly finding Tommy’s as he takes in his surroundings. They grow wide as he seems to realize where he is and Tommy’s current state, but his hands are still strapped down, keeping him from pulling at anything. 

“Hey, you’re okay,” Tommy tells him softly when Evan tries to pull on the hand he’s still holding. Evan squeezes it tightly, his eyes flooded with worry as his gaze shifts over Tommy, the IV pole he’s still attached to. Still, before he can get too rowdy or start asking questions, Tommy presses the call button purposely placed nearby so he can call for a nurse. 

The door opens a few moments later, and nurses are entering along with Maddie and Bobby. 

“You’re awake, Mr. Buckley,” one of the nurses says in a cheerful tone. He winces, and she apologizes, speaking in a softer tone. Evan looks back over at Tommy and tugs on his hand, drawing his attention back before moving his fingers as best he can to gesture at the restraints. 

“I think he’s asking why he can’t move his hands,” Tommy explains. 

“You suffered smoke inhalation in the crash,” one of the nurses explains as she checks his vitals. “Your lungs have taken longer to heal, and restraints were to keep you from pulling the tube out. I can remove them as long as you don’t try to remove the tube. We’re working on getting you off of it.” 

Evan nods as best he can, and quickly, his hands are slipped free from the bindings. He takes Tommy’s hand back quickly, looking back over at him with a concerned expression. He lifts his free hand and starts writing in the air. 

How?

“I don’t really remember,” Tommy answers him. Behind him, Bobby clears his throat, and they both glance toward him. 

“Fire investigation said by some miracle you managed to crash into a thick patch of trees, which cushioned the crash. You both still took some hard hits, and it’s also probably what made the fuel go up in flames, but without that, you both could’ve burned in the wreckage,” he explains. 

How long? 

“About a week ago,” Maddie interjects, stepping forward. She walks over to Evan’s other side and squeezes his forearm lightly. He looks up at her, and then down at her stomach, reaching out and touching it. She’s still months away from giving birth, but the prospect of having missed any of it…

Evan glances back at Tommy, looking him over again with that same worried expression. He squeezes Tommy’s hand again, holding on this time. Tommy nods, holding back with the same grip. 

“I know,” he murmurs. “I know.” 

. . . 

It’s still a fight to get across the hall, except once Evan is awake, the nurses station is getting it from both sides. For the most part, they end up having to settle for a continuous facetime video chat, given that neither of them is strong enough to be out of the ICU, and Tommy is still struggling to tolerate being out of bed for more than half an hour at a time.

Still, there are little wins. By the end of the first day he’s conscious again, Evan is taken off the ventilator. His neurological scans come back showing positive results, and Tommy’s blood counts are trending in the right direction, given the organ damage he survived. 

On the second day, they finally move Tommy out of the ICU. He doesn’t really leave, given that the minute he’s settled into his new room, he returns to Evan’s. The younger firefighter still can’t really talk, mostly due to the ventilator rubbing his throat raw, but he manages. It mostly leads to a lot of hand-holding and silent conversation with a fair amount of eye-fucking that drives their friends out of the room. 

And then on the third day, Evan is moved from the ICU to the neurology unit to allow for more observation before he can be discharged. It keeps him and Tommy apart more, mostly due to the need for both of them to be observed, but they stay in contact by text and video chat, at least as much as they’re able to when they’re awake. 

. . . 

“Evan, lay back down.” 

“I can-..” 

“Lay. Back. Down,” Maddie all but growls at him. She turns her head and scowls at Tommy. “And where do you think you’re going?” 

Evan smirks at the attitude Maddie is giving the pilot as he leans back into his pillows, wincing as he tries to shift his leg. 

“Why did I agree to come home with you,” Tommy grumbles under his breath. “My legs are fine, Maddie.” 

“Maybe so, but did we forget the whole ‘no spleen, damaged liver’, of it all,” she counters at him. “Your body needs to heal.” 

“I’m just trying to get some water,” Tommy complains. 

“Howie!” 

The paramedic pops around the corner a full minute later, carrying a tray with light snacks and two bottles of water, a knowing smirk on his face as he crosses into the guest room and sets it on the bed. 

“There you go,” Maddie states, gesturing at the tray. “Now. I better not hear any movement out of this room before dinner unless someone needs to go to the bathroom.” 

“I can take myself!” Tommy whines. “You’re impossible.” 

“Maybe,” she counters. “But Evan can’t, and you can’t take on his weight with his leg unless you want to rip your stitches.” She leans forward and pushes him with a featherlight shove, but it’s enough to get him to lean back into the pillows stacked behind him. She presses the TV remote into his hand after that. “Find something to watch and take the caregiving with a smile.” 

Tommy clenches his jaw before forcing a smile onto his face at her and grumbling a low ‘thank you’. Maddie pats his cheek dramatically before exiting, and Howie follows behind her, laughing quietly as he pulls the door closed until it’s just ajar. Jee-Yun has been told that her uncles aren’t really able to play, but they still need to be able to hear if Evan or Tommy need help. 

“This sucks,” Tommy states, glancing over at Evan briefly before he looks back at the TV. “I’m capable of-..” 

“You are literally the world’s worst patient,” Evan cuts him off. When Tommy scowls at him, it only makes him laugh, smiling at Tommy with an amused expression. 

“I’m not that bad,” he counters. “You-..” 

“I once tried to get you to drink tea when you got a sore throat after a three alarm, and you told me that you didn’t need me to pander to you,” Evan tells him. 

Tommy narrows his gaze at the younger man. “I was fine. And this is coming from the guy who wouldn’t take a nap with a hundred and three degree fever after working a full twenty-four under Gerrard. So who’s the impossible one here?” 

“You both are!” Howie yells from the hallway. 

Evan throws a pillow across the room, hitting the door with enough force to nudge it a few inches more closed. 

“Well. Shit.” 

Tommy snorts at him, turning towards him and pressing a finger to his own lips in a ‘shh’ sign. He slides off the bed and walks over to the door, wincing as he leans down to pick up the pillow. Still, he moves slowly, and returns to the bed a moment later, settling back into it gingerly before lying down next to Evan. He won’t say it out loud, but the five steps to the door was an exhausting trip. 

“Maybe we should just take a nap,” Evan comments, reaching out for the tray on the bed. Tommy grabs his water and sips from it before settling it on the nightstand along with the TV remote Maddie handed him. He glances back over at Evan as he shifts gingerly down on the bed. 

“Is your leg ok? Do you need the wedge adjusted?” 

Evan shakes his head. He reaches up for the pillows behind his head, and Tommy helps him ease down as best he can while keeping him from actually moving his leg. Once he’s settled Tommy moves in closer, but Evan is the one to reach his hand up and wrap his fingers around Tommy’s, given the way his sling has his arm pinned to his chest. 

“Still can’t believe I let you lot convince me to bring me back to Howie and your sister’s house to heal,” Tommy murmurs, his eyes already closing. 

“You can’t be alone right now,” Evan responds just as wearily. “And I can’t climb stairs. Suck it up, buttercup.” 

Tommy snorts, but he doesn’t open his eyes back up. Still, Evan is awake and when he doesn’t hear him nodding off, it keeps him from being able to. 

After five minutes, he cracks an eye open and raises an eyebrow at Evan staring across the room, looking befuddled. 

“What’s going on in that injured brain of yours,” Tommy murmurs. 

Evan turns his head toward him, looking slightly amused. “We survived a helicopter crash. In the god-damn mountains.” 

Tommy chuckles, nodding wearily. “Yeah, we did.” His eyes slide shut again, but he can feel Evan moving his thumb back and forth over the first knuckle of his fingers. 

“Kinda ruined my vibe though,” Evan says, his voice still sounding amused. “I mean, I told you I love you, and then we fell out of the sky.” 

Tommy opens his eyes, his expression deadpan as he looks up at Evan. “Are you really calling me out for trying to keep us alive instead of admitting a near-death love confession?” 

The corners of Evan’s mouth pull up just slightly, and Tommy rolls his eyes before closing them again. 

“You really are ridiculous,” he mutters, tilting forward and resting his forehead against Evan’s shoulder. 

“Seems like something that belongs in one of your romantic comedies, is all I’m saying,” Evan says back, his voice soft. 

“I love you, Evan,” Tommy replies, his voice lilting with just the slightest hint of annoyance, although it’s entirely affectionate. “Take that to your romantic comedy theories.” 

He hears Evan laugh quietly, followed by a soft groan at the pain it causes. Still, when he settles again, the way his breathing shifts tells Tommy that he’s finally starting to settle. Tommy shifts his head slightly, resting more against Evan’s shoulder. He continues to listen to the younger man’s breathing deepen, and for the first time in months, lets it lull him down the way nothing else has ever been able to. 

[wee-larceny]

Time to Orbit: Unknown liveblog Chapters 021-030

Chapters 001-010 011-020

So let's start with a quick recap this time too, just to go through our previous questions, see what got answered, what I'm still wondering about, and what new mysteries arose.

Stuff we now have answers for:

Why did no one treat Captain Reimann's wounds? - He locked himself in CR1 away from the rest of the crew.

Whose body is missing and where is it? There were only three frozen corpses for four potential dead people in the back of the ship. - That'd be Captain Reimann in CR1.

What is in CR1? How did the 120-something people die there? If a guy with an axe in the process of being subdued can actually cause a hull breach then that's not a spaceship I'd like to travel on. - Reimann killed them with an axe. The hull breach was lie.

When and why was CR1 locked ? We know when it was damaged but not when it was password-locked. Which captain did it? Riemann probably didn't have the opportunity (it was still open during his rampage and I sure wouldn't have allowed him computer access after.) If it was Kinoshita, why? - It was Reimann locking himself in to commit mass murder. I assumed that when the AI said he was prevented from causing further harm it meant that the rest of the crew subdued him but that's not true&it just shows that I shouldn't have believed the AI.

Did the crew keep logs? If yes, read them. - They did but they're currently unreadable.

What's up with the disgusting air filer? - Coolant leak plus spores.

Questions I still have (some with slight modifications):

Why did Captain Reimann start hacking at colonist with an axe and how did he lose an arm?

Why did Captain Kinoshita try to move the giant box that ended up crushing her?

Why wasn't CR1 jettisoned? Why didn't the two halves of the crew reestablish contact in a different way either?

Why didn't Arc Hess clean up the coffee? Why did they keep a paper calendar?

Why was no one woken from chronostasis to replace the dead crew?

Why didn't the AI help Kinoshita or anyone else? What does it read/write to the crewmembers' chips? Why is it lying about everything?

What killed most of the crew? I'm theorising here that it wasn't the spores because they very easily could have taken care of that. Also what caused the coolant leak and where did the spores come from in the first place?

What was the experiment that killed three members of the crew?

Why can't the new captain override the previous one's orders? Captain locks a door, dies, door is locked forever. That's just bad design.

How did the aft engines get irreparably damaged?

What happened when the ship lurched sideways? It can't have been just the rotations slowing, because that would decrease gravity unless there's a complicated science reason as to why it doesn't. There can't be a complicated science reason because Derin explains those immediately.

Brand new, shiny questions I acquired:

Why are there so many Texan convicts on this ship? Normally I'd say they're being exploited somehow, but how?

What's up with the extra body in freezer storage?

How does the AI know exactly when and how Reimann died and also about the coolant leak in PLR1 if it cannot monitor these rings?

Why did Reimann lock the vents open?

Why did they lie about the length of the trip?

Why are the people in CR1&5 less likely to survive?

Why kill the colonists this way specifically? Is the cranial port coming free from the skulls of Riemann's victims in any way connected to what happened with Pterra Collyn? Because that was weird and freaky. Also why are they not as decomposed as the Friend expected them to be?

Has Denish ever broken into a pressurized vessel before? If yes, awesome.

[moonshynecybin]

as one of the foremost motogp scholars of our time do you happen to know what the beef is with maverick and fabio bc they were teammates right? but everyone says they hate each other now idk

ik this is not a marc question and i apologize for asking something i could ostensibly do research in myself but i did try and i suck at research and you have crazy good insight into the interpersonal dynamics of these guys ajajsjksksksksksksk

anyway sorry!! love your blog!!!! if you dont know or dont have time you can just ignore me!! <3

HELP okay i’ll try my best… so uh. idk if they have BEEF per se but i would imagine that some of the animosity would stem from the state of yamaha in 2021 and maverick’s uh. handling of that entire snafu. and yamaha being one of fabio quartararo’s beautiful wives (the other is tony arbolino the OTHER other is being nips out in work situations). anyways under the cut it’s lawg

SO. source HERE it does a good job laying this all out, but mav moved from suzuki to yamaha to start the 2017 season and immediately had a real substantial string of successes. he topped testing (a more novel occurrence THEN than NOW…) and won the first two races of the season, with many of the top contenders in the class having comparatively more difficult starts to the year (marc, dani, jorge, AND dovi all DNFed in argentina in the wet lmao). unfortunately, in true maverick fashion, it wouldn’t last and his results would be a lot more spotty as the season continued, with marc and dovi emerging as the true title contenders after the break and him finishing p3 overall (still ahead of valentino rossi…)

from there, our typically maverick pattern emerges, and maverick’s results kinda plummet more and more as the years pass by, with a few bright spots in tracks he likes. cracks are already showing in 2018, especially as vale ages and marc continues to be dominant while ducati improve. but like. maverick is a HUGE confidence guy!!!!and lin jarvis is in the press at austria 2018 like my rider’s qualified like total dog dookie!!! and maverick (most sensitive man on earth) is like okay. FUCK YOU… so things are already sliding nasty in 2018, but then he wins at assen in 2019 and re-signs w yamaha (even though ducati apparently wanted him. which is crazy to me but i digress.) it SHOULD BE NOTED that maverick himself was also publicly baffled by the decision from ducati to re-sign him, which EYE think says a lot abt his relationship with the team and confidence in his place there, and then they bring in all theses young hotties named fabio and franky and i imagine it’s like uh oh. i gotta PERFORM…

then 2020: shit hits the fan, marc breaks his arm, covid is going full blast, and no one knows what the fuck is going on. yamaha is very shaky through it all - fabio isn’t happy, maverick isn’t happy, everything is breaking or going wrong and there’s no pace on the bike and despite winning a GP maverick calls it the “worst season of his career!!!!” and also fabio is there with three wins looking. VERY good. writing perhaps on the wallll about the new guys and 21 yr old fabio is like. idk i can see why fabio’s friendly ass had a hard time vibing with all that. it doesn’t strike me as a natural vibe match.

and like. okay so famously the dramatic conclusion comes of COURSE in 2021 where mav got a new crew chief (he really liked his old one…) and then finished p19 in germany among serious grip woes that he claimed the team didnt have an answer for, all while fabio is charging to mount an actual title challenge, which i imagine didnt help things. like the pure comparison of it. exit rumors build (he podiums the next gp on the same setup he placed p19 in apparently, and like. doesn’t celebrate w the team at ALL in parc ferme like the vibes are OFFFF !!!), maverick is publicly critical of the team and unhappy with his situation, and then uh. he um. he gets fired AHEAD of assen 2021 and yamaha state he’ll leave after that season, a full year before his contract expires. boo tomato tomato from both parties…

MAVERICK (DIVAAAAAA comma 26 years old) responds by going full old school broadway dame and blowing up his engine on purpose during the 2021 Styrian GP in austria, sabotaging his own race. yamaha catch him handily, do NOT appreciate this, and straight up suspend him. maverick apologizes and says he messed up baby it was a joke please forgive him please. yamaha says you’re a SKANK… put in cal crutchlow good vibes angel from the heavens on that bike, who is later replaced with franco morbidelli full time. maverick signs with aprilia and rides with them for the rest of the season. maverick later lists fabio’s front row qualification performance as one of the reasons his emotions got the better of him in austria. fabio goes on to win the title. et voila. like TLDR i imagine the leftover taste in both fabio and maverick’s mouths concerning the whole ordeal is enough to put them off each other at least mildly for good.

[dollyhyuckii]

+1 new post from dollyhyuckii ၇୧ㅤㅤ

ANYTHING FOR YOU ۟ ׅ ͡ ୨ৎ

ᰔᩚ ── in which, caught between love and uncertainty, jisung struggles with his feelings for you, afraid of the unknown future. he tries to push you away, but when he sees your tears, his resolve begins to crumble

지성 ᰔ jisung! x femreader! ── complicated relationship to lovers.. fluff/a bit of angest WA ₊ ˖ ་. .. just a tiny bit of arguing (just jisung uncertain of his feelings) ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀWC:435..

• 秋のメモ… ︵ ︵ ིྀ i haven’t did a nct fic in so long☹️, im definitely going to start writing more for them more.. REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!!! DOLLYHYUCKII DIARY

the cold air nipped at your skin as you stood by you and jisung favorite place to go, the river that you two always went too, watching the reflection of the city lights shimmering on the water. the soft hum of the city surrounded you, yet the silence between you and jisung felt painful

“i want you but i can’t” jisung voice barely above a whisper, his gaze locked onto the ground, his hands were buried deep in his coat pockets, his posture tense as if he was fighting a battle within himself “b-but .. maybe i’d do anything..”

you clenched your fist , trying to steady your breathing, but the sting in your chest was impossible to ignore. “why can’t you?” you asked , your voice barely holding itself together. “jisung if you feel the same , then why…”

“i don’t want to hurt you…” he interrupted, finally looking up at you. his usual warm eyes were full of hesitation, his lips slightly parted as if he was searching for the right words. “I don’t want you to wait for me when i don’t even know what the future holds”

you let out a shaky laugh, blinking back the tears that we’re getting ready to spill at any moment “jisung … is this about your career?”

jisung stayed silent, his breath visible in the cold night air. his silence was enough of an answer.

your heart squeezed painfully “jisung…” you took a step closer, your hands trembling as you reached for his “I never asked you to have everything figured out, I don’t care about the future. i care about you”

his fingers twitched beneath your touch, but he didn’t pull away. “but i can’t be selfish” he muttered, his eyes dropping to where your hands intertwined. “what if one day i can’t give you the time you deserve..?, what if i become someone you can’t recognize anymore?”

you inhaled shapely, the cold biting at your lungs. “that’s not fair” you muttered. “you don’t get decided what’s best for me ..”

his jaw clenched, his struggle showing right through him. he was scared, scared of hurting you, of holding you back, of making promises he wasn’t sure he could keep.

and yet, his hands gripped yours a little tighter..

a single tear escaped down your cheek, and jisung reacted instantly. his hands cupped your face, his touch warm and delicate, as if you were something fragile that he wasn’t ready to lose. “don’t cry, my sweet girl” he whispered, his thumb brushing the tears away. “please… i’d do anything to see you smile again”

you closed your eyes, leaning into his touch, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. “then stay” you breathed.

jisung exhaled deeply, his forehead pressing gently against yours. his hands, once hesitant, now held you firmly. “i’m scared” he admitted. “scared of messing up, scared of not being enough, scared of losing you”

you opened your eyes, searching his expression. “you won’t lose me jisung” you whispered. “unless you let me go”

silence hung between you, thick with unspoken words and trembling emotions.

then, for the first time that night, jisung’s lips curled into that smile you always craved, small, hesitant, but real. “maybe… maybe i’d do anything for you”

and in that moment, nothing else mattered. no fears, no uncertainty, just the two of you, standing at the edge of something fragile yet real.

©dollyhyuckii ꒰ do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without permission ۟ ׅ ͡ ୨ৎ

[waterihardlyknowher]

Heellooo this is my first time writing anything or posting anything on tumblr, I hope you like it 😊 all notes are accepted and wanted!!

I decided to write this as the PlayStation network servers were down so I couldn’t get the jjk wave 2 skins 💔

————————————————————————————

Warnings: Includes smut, language, little bit of Mei slander, Gojo’s a jock basically, both you and Nanami are switches, reader is a BRAT, cum licking

Tags?: smut, cum licking, little bit of hand necklace, P in V, fingering [let me know if I should add more!]

“…anyways, as I was saying the community response to such servers being down has drastically…”

The sounds of the tall man infront of you slowly drowns out as you start to tune out of what he was saying. This tall, attractive man was explaining some big shot important men project that you truly did not care to listen into.

His tall stature in a devilishly dark blue suit, to match his blue eyes, leans in closer as he continues explaining. This guy had to be the one your boyfriend always complained of. The big boss with white hair whom never took the time out of his day to talk to his male employees, yet always somehow ended up in “personal” meetings with his assistants.

As his voice begins meshing into the background of the party, you began to steal a moment to truly look around the room. You were in a huge ballroom, one of those incredibly expensive sky high places right dab in the middle of New York City.

The walls and ceiling were covered in lights, like fireflies littering every space possible. Large crowds of people in black tie attire, from women in sparkly silk dresses to men in black suits.

You yourself were quite dressed up, stunting a beautiful floor length red dress with a slit that meets right at your thigh. You’ve always been told red was your color, from red hair in highschool, to the red lipstick you always wore on special occasions.

An incredibly stupid event if anyone were to truly ask you, but you were only here to be accompany to your wonderful boyfriend. Though, you had lost track of him hours ago.

*ahemn* “I apologize, you’ve caught me in a talkative mood! Now, why again did you say you were here?” The tall man says, snapping you back into the present.

“Oh yes right, I’m here supporting my boyfriend.” You say admittedly trying to seem as though you were listening the whole time.

“Ah yes, I mean of course a woman of your beauty would not be here alone.” He grins, trying to steal a compliment your way.

“Thank you, but speaking of which I better go find him” you always hated these kinds of guys, always giving just too much attention to the women to try to get into their pants. You knew exactly this guys game.

“You can always come back if you don’t find him” he winks “It’s Satoru by the way, in case you forgot it”

Had you already forgotten his name? The conversation had started just moments before yet it felt like a century of listening to this guy go on and on about economy.

You didn’t even pay him the kindness of responding as you walk away. It felt about time to find the one you came with anyway, you had arrived together but got torn apart about halfway through the party.

Checking your phone, the time was now about 7:30 pm. You weren’t sure what time the party would end but wanted it to end sooner than later.

Walking away from the tall man known as “Satoru”, you walk up the stairs of the ballroom. This place was huge, only a company of incredibly high regard could afford a place like this. The first floor was cluttered with black tall tables all around a bar placed right in the center. Bartenders working quickly to fulfill the orders of the businessmen and women surrounding them. With huge floor to ceiling windows, anyone could see anything from the inside. As well as from the outside. You wondered how many people in there apartments might be watching, envious of the people who call themselves the “higher ups”.

As this thought ponders in your mind you make your way up the first couple of steps, not interested in going completely upstairs. Up there would only house a long hallway leading those who dared to the bathrooms of the establishment.

Darting your eyes around you try to find your partner in the crowds of people. Making eye contact with some of them. Another tall dark haired man pulled back into a bun stylishly wearing a black tuxedo, talking to another woman with a beauty mark stunting a dress similar, but shorter than yours in white. A trio of a pink haired man wearing a matching pink suit, a dark haired man wearing an all black suit, and a woman sporting a flattering long purple dress.

None of these people are the one you want to see, you’ve actually almost began to worry.

“If you keep standing there like a lost puppy dog people will begin to notice, you know.” A deep voice breaks your train of thought.

Below you is a handsome man with blonde hair, and unlike anyone else there, dressed in a tan suit sticking out like a sore thumb. You most definitely didn’t notice him, to occupied observing your far surroundings to notice the man approaching.

“If all begin to notice though, then hopefully the one I’m looking for will find me” you say, stepping down a couple of steps to meet the man’s gaze.

“Well, whatever bastard left you alone might not deserve being back in your grace.” his eyes began to trace your body. The soft curls framing your face, the one stray on your left side cutely fraying upward away from the rest. The curls lead down to the heart line of your dress, seductive red hugging your body in all the right places, only complimented by the tease of the slit in your dress.

You drop down a stair, getting closer and forcing his eyes to follow yours down. “Maybe if he begs enough I’ll forgive him.”

The blonde man shamelessly rocked his eyes between your breasts, lips, and eyes. You couldn’t help but repay the favor by snaking your eyes down his figure. His tan suit fit perfectly, complimented by his blue undershirt hugging his muscles. Every fiber of his clothing knowing exactly what to do to make him irresistible.

You drop down the rest of the stairs to meet his side, turning yourself to face him and his shoulder. Perching up on your tip toes, guiding your hands up his arm to meet his shoulder. Whispering in his ear, “If I didn’t know you’d get fired for it, I’d fuck you in front of everyone in here. Nanami.”

You see the blood rush to his face and his ears, the tell all sign of his approval. Turning his face towards you a little he responds, “I don’t think I’d care if I got fired for it.” Darting his eyes between yours and your lips.

You giggle, god you loved this game. An unspoken game created by you, if you remembered correctly. An honest mistake really, at a work event of your own you didn’t recognize his voice from behind you and treated him very absentmindedly as a coworker, not your lover. Neither of you would realize the arousal it would cause until later that night.

Taking yourself off his shoulder you shove him a little, forcing him to face you at the bottom of the stairs. “Where did you run off too anyways?”

Letting out a groan he responds, “Ugh god, I got stuck talking with my fucking co-lead on the project at work, Higuruma”

“Awh, poor baby” you tut, playfully jutting out your bottom lip. “You could not have possibly had it worse than I did, I got stuck with your boss Satoru.”

At that, his shoulders tensed a bit. You knew he didn’t like him, but not that much. “Love I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let us get separated like that. Especially seeing as I’m the only one you know here” he says, closing the distance between you two more, he places his hands on your forearms running his hands down to meet yours. Playfully picking them up and placing a kiss on them.

“Oh you sick love fool, I was fine anyways. Possibly could’ve won me a one way ticket to pound town if I didn’t have my eyes out for someone else.” You say pulling one of your hands away from his, leaving the one left to lead him closer to the windows. No one else was really around you two, everyone else preferring to gather around the bar, aside from the small groups of those talking.

Nanami groans at your last comment, “In that case, I’d gladly get fired for fucking you right in front of him.” Lightly squeezing your still held hands before dropping it, repositioning it around your waist as you stare into the city.

“Oh now that sounds like a plan” you laugh hitting his pec with your hand and leaving it there turning a little to him.

God he was so beautiful in this light. The amount of alcohol you had to consume to put up with Satoru began to finally hit you, feeling the tension between you slightly thicker than usual. His blonde hair was perfectly combed back, the same professional hairdo you’d see him stroll out the door with every morning. His tan suit, making it impossible for you to focus any time he spoke. “Leaving nothing up to the imagination” would not be an accurate statement, cause you indeed did know what was underneath. Yet you couldn’t help yourself imagine and linger on the ideas-

“Oh my god! Is that Kento! Just my favorite sexy businessman I wanted to see tonight.” That comment made both you and Nanami turn around. Behind you stood a white haired women, hair tied back into a braid. Now, if you thought your dress was revealing it would be nothing compared to her cut out dark purple dress. Revealing the most amount of underboob that made you wonder how the dress was staying up on her.

“Mei. I believe everyone in the office talked about being here tonight.” Nanami retorts, the tiniest bit of annoyance that only you’d catch. The kind of annoyance he gets when a child asks stupid questions.

You believe youve heard him talk about her before, the woman who loves to refer to herself as his “work wife” though he’d make sure you knew he felt otherwise.

Turning yourselves more, you stood infront of her with Nanami’s arm still around your waist. Your arms crossed over one another just simply observing the situation unfolding around you.

“Oh, I’m sorry miss I didn’t see you standing there. You must be a friend? I’m Mei Mei, Kento’s work wife as everyone around the office calls me!” She reaches out her hand to shake yours, completely ignoring your closed off posture to pull your hand out and shake. The way she uses his first name makes your skin crawl. He’s told you before the only one who is allowed to use his first name is you, especially while riding him.

“Actually Mei, I believe you’re the only one who calls yourself that. Besides, this is my actual, and only, wife.” Nanami responds giving your waist a little squeeze and rubbing it way with his hand. Your heart flutters a little, out of excitement of him referring to you as such, but also out of a little disappointment in that you were in-fact not his wife.

If only you could have taken a picture of the face Mei made once processing the words he had said. Completely falling, and plastering a slight grimace she pulled her hand back off of yours letting both her hands prop on her hips.

“Oh, hah. That’s funny he’s never mentioned you before. Anyway, I better go. I believe I hear Satoru calling my name.” Mei says point blank, bashfully ignoring the obvious lie she had just retorted.

Turning on her heels Mei walks away with an awful sway in her hips, trying to make both her braid and her ass swish more than plausible.

You and Nanami share a glance before laughing with one another. “God she really is awful, I thought you were being dramatic” you say.

“Absolutely not, I don’t think the best author in the world could convey how heinous her company is.” Turning to make you face him he cups his hand onto your face, keeping his other on your waist. He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead, rubbing his thumb along your cheek as he does. “No matter what she says, you are the only woman I love.”

He always knew the slight anxiety placed in the back of your head at all times, not your fault really. You thought it just came with having the most beautiful boyfriend in the entire world. “I liked that you called me that.” You say pushing your face into his hand.

“What, my love?”

“Wife.”

Nanami’s lips crease into a grin, keeping his hand on your face, he closes the distance between you two and kisses you. His classic gentle kiss, just simply placing his onto yours. “I think this party is about over, care for an after party with me?”

You playfully push yourself away from his touch backing up a little, “Ew you’re so romantic I hate it.”

“Sure you do.” He responds with a boyish grin.

You lead the way as he follows you out toward the parking garage. Though, it took longer than you’d hope. Continuing to get stopped, Nanami would have to exchange a few “Nice to see you” “See you at the office” “Don’t drink too much”, between every other person he saw. But you couldn’t complain, you always enjoyed seeing him in his element. Even if he didn’t like the people he worked with, he was always such a sweetheart. Watching his face light up to make sure the person knew they were listened to, and seen by him. You couldn’t help but feel your heart swell a little knowing he was in-fact yours.

Finally arriving to the parking garage Nanami unlocks and opens the passenger side door to allow you room to hop up. Unexpectedly, before you could turn, Nanami grabs the back of your neck planting another kiss on you. This one, unlike the other, was deeper and more sensual. In this kiss, he would move his lips in between yours, embracing you in a deeper French kiss. He couldn’t help his other hand to place on your exposed thigh, gripping tightly as to not let you move away from the kiss.

Your hand finds his on your thigh, placing it there before moving up his arm to repay his strong grip. Nanami’s thumb gently taps your jawline, asking for, or possibly demanding you to open your lips to him. You can’t help but obey as he slips his tongue into your mouth. At that, you let out a groan behind his tongue arching your back to meet his touch all over you.

As unexpectedly as it happened, it stopped. Nanami pulled back from you breathlessly gasping a little before smiling at you without a word, pushing your legs forward before shutting the door.

God was he a tease. But so were you.

Nanami walks to the driver side and hops in, starting the car and beginning the drive home. He knew exactly what he had done to you, and you couldn’t help but repay the favor.

The car full to the brim with tension, the only thing breaking the silence was the radio. Though, you couldn’t focus on the radio, rather focusing on the heat rising in between your legs. You loved this Nanami. The striking, slightly demanding Nanami. Using what was his. And most nights you loved getting used by him, praising words ringing through your ears as he pushed you up and down his length. But tonight felt different. Possibly the large amount of alcohol you had, or possibly the irritating Mei egging you on.

The drive home was probably only 20 minutes, but without traffic and the tension of what happened, Nanami could make it home in 12. So you had to do this quick.

As Nanami was distracted turning a right on red you knew he’d have to look your way, even if only for a moment. Knowing this, you began to touch yourself. Slowly at first, simply drawing a finger from your collar bone down to your breasts. Opening your palm you glide your hand over your clothed boobs, slightly massaging your nipples through the fabric.

You absolutely got off knowing Nanami was watching you, but to make sure you glanced his way. Seeing him eyeing you down while trying, painfully, to watch the road.

From there, you glide your hand over your stomach to the rising heat in your legs. You hadn’t even touched yourself fully and you could feel your breath hitch. Laying your head back into the head rest, letting your back arch a bit into your touch, you take your hand up the slit in your dress to finally make some contact with yourself even if through fabric.

Nanami groaned and tried to reach his hand over. He tried to grab your wrist to stop you, but you had the upper hand of well, another hand. Pushing him away you turn your head to face him. Making direct eye contact, you finally begin to rub yourself through your underwear.

The car jerks as Nanami tries to throw off your balance and get your hand off of you, but unsuccessfully. You should arrive home in about, 6 minutes. With such little time to work Nanami up, you had to go faster.

Opening your legs wider, you lift a leg up resting it on the car door. Your fingers push aside your soaked fabric and finally lay way to your cunt. At this point, your breath is quick and pained. So much arousal flowing through you knowing and seeing Nanami’s discomfort at watching you pleasure yourself.

Arching your back to allow better access, you roll your fingers between your folds, already incredibly wet from the entire night. Brought on even worse by the alcohol you consumed.

From your peripheral, you could see the car approaching a yellow light, then turning red.

Fuck.

As soon as the car stopped Nanami turns completely to you keeping his eyes locked on yours, pulling your hand away from its place. “Fucking slut, you couldn’t wait until we got home.” Roughly grabbing your jawline planting a kiss onto your lips.

His hand locked your wrist midair while his other forced your face into a kiss. Only a couple more minutes you thought.

Breaking away from the kiss to speak you say, “Cause my husband left me alone with my thoughts. What did you think would happen to a girl left all alone in a room full of attractive men? Especially high off alcohol.”

Nanami’s hand is holding your face, unable to hide the dissatisfaction in his face and voice. “That’s too bad really, cause I couldn’t keep my eyes off you all night. Watching you look for me, while pushing away any guy who came up to you.” Tightening the grip on his other hand, holding the hand you used to pleasure yourself moments ago, he tuts “I even had to run off to the bathroom a couple times to rub one out at the thought of you so obsessed with me, and only me.” His eyes darkening as he responded.

At that, you couldn’t help but push your thighs closer together to feel even the slightest bit friction. He knew his dirty talk was only pushing you worse and worse toward dissatisfaction. Even letting out a small grin at your thighs pushing together more.

Your eyelids grew closer together as you questioned, “So you get to touch yourself to the thought of me, but I can’t do it in return?”

“Why would I let you do that when I can do it myself.”

*BEEP*

Pulling you both out of your thoughts you snap forward, leaving the contact of eachother at the sound of a car behind you. You were simply sitting at a green light. Nanami focuses back in the best he can, you would be home in only a couple minutes. But god he might crash if he doesn’t focus. The uncomfortable tent in his pants being the only thing in his mind right now. So painfully tight, and the way he was sitting pushed pressure on his tip harshly.

“You really are such a hypocrite, Nanami.” He was distracted for only a moment, but looking back to you the sight he saw could’ve made him crash right then.

Your legs had resumed their spots, pushed apart, with your hands back between your legs. Finally feeling the friction you had so desperately wanted, rubbing and pinching one hand around your clit. The other hand, dipped your ring and middle finger into your cunt. Keeping your eyes completely locked onto Nanami’s, now unable to focus on the road, you let out a pornagraphic moan leaning your head back further into the head rest.

The displeasure plastered on Nanami’s face only spurred you on more, but sure, you needed more. You needed to feel his cock plowing through your folds to meet the spots you can’t reach with your fingers. But you knew at this sight before him, he would not hold back later.

Still pleasing yourself, you began to move your fingers quicker inside your pussy, trying desperately to hit your g-spot. Rubbing faster and faster on your clit, you can feel the heat tightening in your core.

Nanami’s eyes forced themselves away from yours, making sure that you’d both at least get home in one piece. As for later, he’d make sure you didn’t end up in one piece.

Furrowing your brows at Nanami’s composure, your sounds began flowing over the radio. The lewd noise of your pussy getting wetter and wetter as the time passed, and your moans getting louder in annoyance of loosing his gaze.

You’d not looked at the road for awhile, until you felt the car harshly turn into the driveway. Nanami took that turn purposefully to hard, and to fast, to push you off your balance. Which he had successfully done, as the fingers inside of you slipped out, instead trying to catch yourself on the car door.

Trying to gain any composure you had, you let both your hands leave between your thighs. Nanami quickly parked and tried grabbing you. But before he could catch you, you hopped out of the car and sprinted toward the door.

Giggling to yourself you fumbled with the key that you had in your shoe, to pull out and open the door. Hearing the car completely shut off and large feet hit the concrete. Shutting the door painfully hard Nanami tries to stride over quickly. “Don’t you fucking dare-“ trying to grab you, again unsuccessful.

You had opened the door just in time to push yourself inside and shut the door on Nanami, locking it. You knew he had a key, and would only gain you a couple moments. But a couple moments nonetheless to hide.

Inside, the doorway opened to a large living room and kitchen situated parallel to eachother. The beautiful home both you and Nanami worked hard to build together. But not the time to relish in that, you quicken your pace to the end of the hall to the stairs, quickly running up them as you hear Nanami finally open the door. Slower, though, than he chose to open the car door.

Getting up the stairs you rush to the end of another hall, opening the door, meet with your lovely bedroom. Just a moment of thought as you stand in the doorway, pondering on where to hide.

“I got you.” Nanami retorts right in your ear before capturing your figure in his arms, forcing you to let out a breath as his arms wrap around your waist and pick you up.

Letting out a laugh you let yourself slump into his figure still positioned in the door way, “Awh man you should’ve given me more time to hide.”

“Tsk tsk tsk, no can do my love. Not after that.” Nanami walks you both over to your bed placing you face down against the sheets. Slowly, painfully so, he guides his hands from your waist, to your hands, placing them above you. You couldn’t help but turn your face a little to see his eyes, dark with lust and focus.

Placing a sweet kiss on your shoulder he moves his hands to meet your zipper, finally exposing your skin.

“My god you’re so beautiful. If only you weren’t such a brat to me.” Following after your zipper he places kisses down your spine, stopping at your lower back.

“Oh but Nanami, really? You got to touch yourself all night to me and I can’t do it for what.. 12 minutes?” You say, voice dripping in seduction.

Nanami guides the straps of your dress off with your arms, gently placing them back in their spot above your head. “Actually, no, you cannot do that my love.” After freeing your arms from your dress he guides the rest of the fabric off your body, exposing your matching lace strapless bra and panties. “Fuck.” He says placing himself on top of you, face flush with your ear and at such an angle to rub his bludge against you. “You feel that? That’s what your little show did to me. We both know your small fingers can’t reach the places that my dick could. Fuck even my fingers could reach further.”

Placing his hands at your waist he keeps you still as he rubs his tent up and down your ass. “You in that fucking tight red dress. Flirting your doe eyes at Satoru. Fuck. You knew I was watching, didn’t you? You got off knowing I was fuming seeing you even enjoy his company at all.” His hips began to dip down further, harder, into your cheek.

“Maybe I did.” You let out a deep groan at the heavy pressure of his body weight on you, unable to move. “Maybe I got off on knowing that, but I still didn’t get to touch myself. Asshole.”

Groaning at your defiance, Nanami’s hands on your waist tighten as he flips you over to face him. “I’ll make you come so hard around my fingers you’ll never even think about touching yourself alone.” his eyes dark with anger, or possibly, arousal?

Face to face with Nanami now, you flutter your eyelashes, making yourself seem more innocent or fearful than Nanami knew you were. “Did your hand satisfy you enough? Is that why you’re so mad now?” You tut out pushing back on his dirty talk. “Did fucking your fist not feel as good as my hands around it? Flicking your slit just the way I know you like it? Or were you too busy thinking about my mouth going up and down the veins in your dick-“

Forcing you to stop your talking Nanami kisses you hard into the bed. Letting out a groan, signaling that your words were having just the effect you wanted on him. You remember that you’re free to move your hands, finding their place in his under cut. Both your hands surround his head pulling him impossibly closer to you.

His hands begin to wander up your torso and rubs your breasts through your bra. You rewarded his touch with a small moan, arching your back into his touch.

Suddenly he completely stands, completely off of you standing straight. “Tsk you slut. You love this don’t you. Love driving me crazy. Love this dirty talk.” Making direct eye contact with you he finally freed his skin from underneath his suit. Completely losing his suit jacket and button up, his beautiful chest was out for you to look at. God, it was like he was chiseled out of marble the way his biceps flexed to guide his hands to his belt. His abs flexing at the knowledge of what would happen next.

Nanami being completely off of you gave you some room to move back, choosing to slide all the way to the headboard of the bed. Resting your back against it, you watched Nanami undress beside the bed.

As his pants fell his boxers finally had enough room to free his bulge a little. Not enough to cause any satisfaction though. Studying his body in the same state of undress as you, “You know. From how hard your dick is right now I’d say you’re getting off from this too. Kento.”

Oh how he loved when you used his first name. No one was allowed to use it but you of course, and he all but hated Mei Mei for using it ever. Choosing to finally let his erect shaft free, Nanami pulls his boxers completely off to meet his pants on the floor.

His dick was so hard that it stood perfectly up, seemingly laying against his navel. The tiniest bit of precum was leaking from its tip, painting his shaft a glossy shiny film that continued to travel down to its base.

While laying against the headboard, you spread your legs wider for Nanami to see the same sight between your legs. Practically dripping onto the bed already, your lace panties barely held any liquid back from your cunt. You placed your hand over your clothed center, needing to feel some friction.

Nanami crossed the distance between you, propping himself in front of you on his heels. “Now. Isn’t that what got you into this situation, my love?” Gripping your wrist away from yourself, similar to how he had done in the car. Pulling your arm up to him, he threw it around his shoulder and wrapped his arms around your waist embracing you in a kiss. This one was a sweet one, almost apologetic to what he knew he was going to do to you. He lightly grips your waist as your other hand meets yours around his neck.

You couldn’t help but try to lift up one of your legs, to at the very least, get some friction on his dick. Still passionately kissing, your leg slides up his thigh and to his side. One leg still planted on the bed, you rub your heated core against his dick, feeling the veins run slightly against your clit.

“F-Fuck… Nanami….” your breath quickening by the second.

“What my love?” He asks, pulling away. “Please? Do you want to ask me so nicely to finally fuck you?”

You felt his shoulders slightly relax at his own words. Surging the moment, you take your hands from around his neck and push him, hard.

Letting his back hit the bed he lets out a laugh, positioning his legs from under him to lay flat.

“As if I’d ever beg you.” Raising yourself up onto his lower abdomen, you begin to lean forward and backward, rubbing your clothed pussy against his abs. His hands find your hips, in a way, helping you rub yourself against him. You throw your head back in pleasure.

“Oh love. We both know you have. If you weren’t so drunk right now you’d be begging me to fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.” He huffs, his own breath beginning to quicken at the thoughts racing through his head. You rocked your hips against his abs, making him wet with your own juices.

“Fuck.” You mutter out, feeling the desperation grow in your stomach. As you place your hands on his pecs, you glance downward to meet his eyes. His eyes locked onto yours, admiring you using him. “It doesn’t matter if I’m drunk Kento, you love being used.” Your pussy started clenching at nothing but your own words. “My own little fuck toy I get to use.”

He grips your hips tighter, and rolls his head back a little, bucking his hips upward to try and grab some friction. He lets out a groan before grabbing the sides of your panties and ripping them.

“God I need to feel you. Please.” Nanami says, pulling the now ripped panties from between your legs and tossing them off the bed. Nothing between you and his abs now, your clit finally gets direct contact with the curves and valleys of his abs.

Needing to feel more stimulation than his abs, you move yourself further down to his erect dick. Placing your folds around his members you move up and down, pussy fucking him.

“Like this Nanami? You like that?” You say, slowing your hips down. Feeling his tip rub against your clit, stealing a moan from your lips. Nanami’s head leans back at the sensation, groaning at your stunt. He couldn’t help but feel annoyed at your defiance, he guessed he didn’t really clarify what he meant by ‘feeling’ you.

“S-stop. You’re not cumming like that.” Nanami lifts himself up to meet you face to face, gripping your waist tight as he raises you up.

Nanami wraps an arm around you holding you up. Pressing your chest to him, you guide your hands up his chest and his neck, resting your hands in his under cut. As you pepper kisses over his face, he uses his other hand to guide his dick to your entrance. “You’re so wet” he groans looking up to meet your eyes, simply rubbing his tip through your folds.

Your breath is incredibly fast now, feeling so needy but pushing through the want to beg him to fuck you. “Cause ah- you keep teasing me.” You breathily respond.

“Tell me what you want” Nanami says, still staring longingly into your eyes. Your fingers in his undercut swirl around in circles as your thumbs caress under his ears. He abruptly stops moving his tip around you, waiting for a response.

“I want…” your breath getting caught in your throat “I want you to fuck me, make me cum around your dick and-“ Nanami starts moving his tip again circling around your clit making it harder to focus on your words, “shit- ah.” Breaking the eye contact you force your eyes shut leaning your head back and arching into his touch, moving your hips around to steal more pleasure from his movements, “cum inside of me, and then lick it all out of me.” you slightly groan at the last part of your thought, it was something you couldn’t keep your mind off of the entire night.

“Mmmhm, look at me” Nanami says, unable to grip your jaw to make you seeing as his hands were preoccupied. You couldn’t help but obey as you look back into his eyes, he clicks his tongue. “Tsk. What?”

Still grinding against his tip, unable to move downward to force him inside because of his tip, you respond “Please. Ah- Ken. Please.”

“Good girl.” He says, embracing you in a kiss, before pushing you down onto his dick. Taking a gasp from you, you kiss him back before moaning into his mouth at the sensation. Finally some relief from a tension built up all night, you feel his dick push through any resistance in your walls. He stops halfway onto his dick to give you a second to adjust. “Doesn’t matter how many times I fuck this pussy, you’re always so tight for me” Nanami coos, snaking his hand that was on his base up your body, unclipping your bra with one hand to pull of your arms. Unable to protest, your still pushed into his body by his arm, being forced to adjust to his size as he moves your arms to get your bra off.

One of your hands is still in his hair as the other slides down to his shoulder, pushing it. You weren’t trying to escape his grasp, or maybe you possibly were, you just needed something to grab to release the pleasant pain shooting through you. You could feel every vein of his cock pulsing through you, teasing you without any movement other than the blood rushing into his dick.

Your breasts now free for him, one of his hands finds one of them to cup into his hand and massage as his mouth finds the other. As his hand openly squeezes your breast, his mouth assaults the other planting wet hot kisses into your nipple. “Fu- yeah yeah I like that, Ken.” Finally adjusted to his length you push yourself all the way down his dick, your core making contact with his base.

At that, both of you gasp and moan at finally being completely connected. Nanami’s hand and mouth leave your breasts, his hand rather taking place around your neck, gently holding you and making your face meet his. “You like that, slut? Like being full to the brim with my dick?” With his arm around your waist, he had complete control of your movements. He started moving you slowly up and down his shaft, taking it agonizing slow, making you feel every pump and twitch of his dick.

Your walls clenched around him, feeling satisfied with your position, moaning and closing your eyes. His hand around your neck meant you couldn’t lean back, but you pushed your head back breathing at the feeling of his dick. “Yeah. Ah- I like that Ken. F-fuck, make me come Kento.”

At your permission, Nanami starts pushing you up and down his length faster, moving his hips up off the bed to meet your hips everytime you came down. He moves his hand off your neck to wiggle down between the two of you, planting soft circles around your clit.

The overstimulation of both his dick and his hands made your body shiver and convulse in satisfaction. Feeling the familiar sensation in your stomach as he moved you up and down. You throw your arms over his shoulders to plant your face in his neck, biting and kissing at his collarbone before licking your tongue up his neck to his ear. “Yeah ah- you’re making me feel so good Ken,” you coo, feeling his dick twitch at your voice. His head is slightly leaned back, pushing against your head as he listens “You wanna make me come around your dick? Let me milk you over and over again?”

Nanami’s pace quickens as he listens to your praises and approval, his fingers start digging into your side as his hand pushes harder against your clit as well. Gaining a moan from you, placed directly into his ear.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum before you do” he says, in an almost whinny tone. His pace starts faltering the tiniest amount as he feels his balls tighten, a clear signal of his soon release.

Still places praises in his ear, you pick up his faltering pace yourself. Quickening it even more as you feel the coil in your stomach tightening as well. “Yeah? Yeah I’d like you to come, I wanna feel your cum fill me up. I wanna milk your dick Kento.” Groaning against your words Nanami rubs faster and faster on your clit, feeling your walls tightening around him the same time his shaft begins to twitch.

Nanami moans and finally releases into you, shooting spurts of hot cum directly into your cunt. He bites down into your neck as he keeps cumming, feeling you squeeze him. The overwhelming feeling of his hand stimulating your clit and his dick pouring his white liquids into you, you also release with a moan.

Nanami’s firm grasp only tightens as he slowly grinds you through both of your highs, your nails dig into his back leaving crescent shapes all over his upper back. Both your orgasms come down slowly, as you place yourself at his base.

You both breathe heavily, trying to regain your strength after an intense orgasm. Nanami’s head lifts from the valley of your neck to look at you. Moving his hand from between the two of you, he tucks your hair behind your ear and traces his thumb along your jawline. Stopping at your chin, he holds your face before placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

Returning his kiss you both slowly make out, as he leans you back against the bed. Your head hits the pillows softly as his kiss lead to the corner of your mouth, down your neck and into your collar bone. Placing gentle kisses he sucks slightly on your collar bone as he pulls out of you. You groan at the loss of feeling him, feeling a bit of cum leaking out of you.

Nanami’s kisses trace down to your boobs as he gropes as massages them again, sucking on one nipple before moving to the other, showing them equal love. Your back arches as your head digs deeper into your pillow.

Sighing, Nanami grabs your hips and he kisses down your stomach, to your navel and stopping. He hooks his arms under your legs as he throws them over his shoulders.

You look down to make eye contact with him as he moves further down, closer and closer to your pussy. Your hand snakes down your body to rest in his hair, that is completely disheveled. Only made worse by your hand now in it, grasping down on his scalp.

Nanami looks at you as he sticks his tongue out and licks, from the very bottom of your hole to your clit. Collecting all of the juices that might’ve spilled from you. Gasping, your eyes close at the sensation, still incredibly sensitive from the orgasm.

“Tsk. Watch me love.” Nanami says, pulling back from between your thighs. “Watch me as I lick my cum out of you.” Your eyes open reluctantly to meet his, a boyish grin plastered across his face at your obedience.

“Good girl, just like that.” It takes everything in you to not close your eyes and rear your head back, to simply revel in the pleasure. But Nanami’s intense gazes makes you unable to look away. His grin disappears between your thighs, as he gets closer and closer, breathing on your cunt. “Fuck, you look like you could cum again.”

“Nanami, please.” You whine out, angry with his teasing. He feels himself grow hard at your whines, deciding to finally give into what you wanted most. He lays his tongue flat against your pussy to lick all the way up again, before cupping his tongue into your hole. He tongue fucks you, as you feel him swallow every ounce of cum leaking from you.

The overwhelming sensation starts sending you toward an edge again, gripping him tighter you begin to ride his face. He gladly allows you to use him, muttering through your folds “Fuck, you needy slut. Want to come around my fingers?” He asks, gently placing his thumb to your hole as his tongue wraps around your clit.

Your hips buck at the feeling, your arousal prominent and building as every second passes. Enough time since your orgasm you feel the familiar coil begin to tighten in your womb.

Nanami slips his index and middle finger through your folds, pumping in and out as your walls clench around his fingers. His tongue still assaults your clit as you gasp “Ugh, yeah yeah like that.” Your head falls back to the bed the same time your back arches into his touch.

He turns his hand inside of you, changing the position of his fingers to hook upward in you searching for, and finding, your g-spot. At the feeling of it hit at the same time he sucks harshly on your clit, you gasp out a pornographic moan, incredibly close to release.

“Yeah, my love, ride my face.” He says before quickening his pace, tongue circling faster and fingers digging and pushing.

His nasty words send you over the edge, finishing all over his fingers. Your walls pulse and squeeze as his fingers slow, and halt inside of you, his tongue still pleasing you through your orgasm.

As you fall from your high, you open your eyes to pear down as Nanami pulls his fingers out of you and raises on his elbows to meet your gaze. Slowly, he places his fingers in his mouth, going impossibly deep to take all of his digits. You see as his tongue nastily and suggestively push through his middle and index finger, drawing them from his mouth. He lets out a groan as he tastes and swallows your juices.

“Shit, I love feeling you cum around my fingers.” He says, placing a kiss against your stomach. “I love feeling you clench around them, sucking on them like your life depends on it.” Placing more kisses up your stomach, between your breasts, up your neck and finally resting himself on top of you to look at you. Your hands find the sides of his face as he says, “I just love everything about you.”

Your breath returns to a normal as your hands rest on the sides of his face, “Oh, don’t I know it.” You kiss his lips.

“Marry me?”

He pulls away a little to stare into your eyes lovingly. “What?” You question, stunned by the sudden comment

“Will you marry me?”

Nanami’s eyes flicker between both of yours searching for an answer that your lips could not give him.

“Hmph, I’ll think about it.”

[just-a-little-unionoid]

In which Stone sort of has a daughter and Ivo and her are not getting along

so I've talked about this fic I started writing back when the first movie came out and since a few people seem interested I decided to post what I wrote back then to test the water

on the base concept this fic is supposed to be stobotnik but this first part doesn't even has Stone in it, as it is only the first encounter between Robotnik and the kid

it's also not supposed to be the first chapter and it's short but that's all I got the motivation to write back then and it's been 4 years so I'm just, I'm gonna post it now cuz that's long enough okay, we will see how it goes later 😭

for context this takes place after the first movie and will only be canon-compliant up to that point

also uh cw r slur??? idk I don't condone the characters' language but it's there

tagging @thebadevil @alexcole1326 and @nosebleedy99 'cause you commented on the other post

- Meanwhile a few months latter on the mushroom planet -

The Doctor was looking for a way on a tricky path, a collapsing old mushroom cap he needed to step on in order to reach a better point of view, when his appliances went insane: there was some dimensional shit going on. He heard a big crack, like thunderbolt, then the dimentional fluctuation faded away.

Maybe two hours latter he heard something again, but something small, something he hadn't heard in a long time. It was not the wind, not the mushrooms growing, not his own breath, not Agent Stone rolling away. It was something that moved by itself, something alive, something animal. It was footsteps.

He was prepared for anything, really, he was prepared for humans, talking blue hedgehogs, other feaking rainbow animals, dinosaurs that would try to eat him... He was ready, and ready to fight for his life if necessary! What he wasn't really expecting though was a child in some kind of safety suit shaped like a dress? With a lot of shiny technological device attached here and there. He didn't get to see their face a lot but based on its proportions and the way it was standing it was obviously a human child, or a weirdly humanoid shaped alien, because as far as Robotnik knew the probability of an alien species to evolve in the exact same way as human, if statistically possible, was very low, and the probability to encounter it even lower.

The child glanced at him for a second and didn't even look up from the touchscreen tablet in their hands when they addressed him:

"I am looking for a human man who was known on his home planet, Earth, as Dr. Ivo Robotnik. Would you appear to 1) know English and 2) have seen a human looking quite like you, in that the human male standard shape and size are similar to yours. He should have a pale skin and dark hairs, and apparently a 'glorious mustache'?"

For once he didn't really know what to say, it only took half a second for him to remember how to register English words but the kid was faster and after a jaded sigh they resumed: "Nǐ huì shuō pǔtōnghuà ma? Kya aap hindee bolate hain? ¿Hablas español? Hal tatahadath alearabiatu? Tumi ki bān-"

"YES I do speak English, and other language stoo, thank you very much. Who are you and what are you doing here anyway?"

"I am here to find the Dr. Ivo Robotnik, I have already said that. Are you retarded or something? If you are don't worry I can explain things again, more slowly, I am trained for that."

"I AM, Dr. Ivo Robotnik," he said, trying very hard not to break the child's neck. "I know you're looking for me, what I'm asking is why? Who are you and who sent you here? No. You know what in fact I don't care who you are. I just want to know who sent you. Which government or secret agency, that sort of thing."

The mildly disgusted and doubtful facial expression they made as they were double-checking his appearance was speaking volumes about their internal thoughts.

"I have no more time to dedicate to you. I'm a very busy person and searching for you already wasted far more of my precious time than you deserve. All you need to know is that a very important person want you and you will follow me now if you don't want me to make use of force."

And on that, the child turned their back to him and disappeared behind a mushroom.

Great. One of those child genius who thought they were above everyone else just because they worked for a random government. He should know, he was one of them. But that kid would learn soon enough what their real place was: down below.

He still followed them though, because they looked like they knew a way back and, well, even if he was smart enough to find a way by himself, thank you very much, the sooner he could beat that hedgehog the better it was. Also, he could just kill them after learning whatever device brought them here and no one would know.

–––

Soon they arrived to a more open area. The child seemingly took measurements, they walked around taking notes on their pad for a few minutes then stopped.

"Come here," they said while pointing the ground. "Don't move."

They took a device from their bag, some kind of tripod filled with wires and LEDs, and placed it on the ground. They stepped back and typed on their screen some more.

The tripod beeped and light beams came out of it, scaning the mushroom cap they where standing on. A dozen of flat devices escaped from the bag and and went to place themselves on strategic points marked by the beams.

The child then placed what looked like a power cell in the tripod. That blue glow emanating from it, could it be... But he had no time to think about it, lights amplificated by stimulated emission of radiation came out of the tripode and to the discs, reflecting into the others, and soon the whole place was illuminated. Reality torn open for the second time this day in a deafening din.

When he oppened his eyes again a ring, looking almost exactly like the one that brought him here, was now open on the ground before him. Almost, because it looked like it opened on a room specifically equipped for that purpose, and with the whole procedure to activate it, it could only mean it was a more primitive technology.

The Doctor looked up at the child, who was scrutinizing him for his reaction.

"I bet you didn't do that yourself, it looks just like this creature's gold rings portals," he said with a smirk.

"Yeah of course," responded the child with spite, "it's reverse engineering."

"Lame."

"Well at least I'm not stupidly stuck on a damn mushroom planet like an idiot. I favour efficiency upon ego, that's why I am here saving your ass and you are pathetically crawling over there covered in mushroom goo. Now, you will have to excuse me..."

They pressed some hiden button in their gloves and Robotnik felt something stinging his neck.

"...but I don't trust you."

The last thing he thought while falling to the ground and through the ring was: "But... That's my tech..."

[blueberry-bubbles130]

Thank you!

I feared in some places with Genevieve’s relationship with Preminger I was overthinking it. We don’t actually see them together much across the movie, at least from what I can remember. The most I remember from them two alone together, or them two mainly being in the same space is when he’s forcing her into marriage. Then when they’re at the altar. I’m going to dive deeper into their relationship when I finish the post on Genevieve. Because there I think I’ll be able to get closer to theories and personal interpretations of their relationship.

I’m glad you brought the first four books up. Out of the books I haven’t read books four and thirteen. I know book five is when the VFD stuff truly starts. But I wasn’t sure about book four. So it’s nice to get confirmation that book four doesn’t have much VFD stuff. I think it makes weird though that the first four books can exist in their own small context. it makes rereads of the series fun, but at the same time I think it makes it a little hard because not everything matches up perfectly. Like you said the questions raised of how much time book Josephine actually spent around Olaf. And then from book five onwards it become very VFD heavy. So the context changes creating more questions.

I think the only indication that Josephine had money to me is the house in the book/movie. The house is old/rickety, but it’s still large and grand. Especially the library. In fact it’s one of only three criticisms I have with Netflix Josephine. The house is small and underwhelming compared to the other two (which is probably a budget issue, so I can understand why it isn’t as big)

Movie Josephine is probably my favourite, followed by the book, then the Netflix show. Like I say l find the house underwhelming. The second criticism is that the outfit is also underwhelming. I love how in the book and movie she has a big sweeping dark dress, it’s beautiful. It shows how’s she’s stuck in her grief. This leads to my third criticism, which I’ve seen other people make, and I agree with, is the acting. Netflix Josephine doesn’t give a depressed fearful atmosphere, more so a crazed atmosphere. it doesn’t give the fearfulness Aunt Josephine has in the movie and book. Her not having the dark mourning dress, gives me the impression that Netflix Josephine isn’t really grieving over Ike anymore. And considering how he died, and how that affected her view of the lake it just feels odd.

I’m probably just biased with the movie and book though since I’ve grown up with them. My hardback copy of The Wide Window was owned by my sisters first. And I watched the movie when I was young, so I prefer the aesthetic of that. It’s closer to what I see in the book illustrations.

I’m actually have plans for more posts like this I want to write! I’ve already started and am trying to finish my post on Genevieve now. Then I want to start my comparison post on Genevieve and Randolph. You can tell I really love Genevieve from the amount of times I talk about her. I have very strong opinions about her.

An analysis comparing Queen Genevieve and Aunt Josephine

While I do enjoy a lot of media, there’s a special group that I enjoy more. Said special group of media includes both Barbie Princess and the Pauper and A Series of Unfortunate Events. And by now, most of my followers will probably know my life pretty much focuses on obsessing over fictional parents. Especially ones that have very unfortunate events happen to them. So it’s only natural that I would obsess over Queen Genevieve and Aunt Josephine. Both have experienced some form of tragedy. So after some more thought, I realised they have quite a few similarities when you look into it. But also some interesting differences. Therefore I wanted to make a post comparing them. For this post I’ll specifically be comparing Queen Genevieve to the movie adaptation of A Series of Unfortunate Events, as well as the specific book Aunt Josephine is featured in. Of course this post will have spoilers for both Barbie Princess and the Pauper. As well as A Series of Unfortunate Events. Though only spoilers for the third book, The Wide Window.

As a disclaimer, I have not actually finished A Series of Unfortunate Events in its entirety. I have watched the movie and show, but I haven’t finished the books. Or read anything else in the Snicketverse. So some bits of information may be missing. Please if you have finished the books add any information you want to in the reblogs.

For those presumably very few who may be waiting, I swear I’m still writing my post about Queen Genevieve. I’ll finish it eventually, it’s only been almost over two years in the making. Though now I’ll probably start writing a post about Aunt Josephine. But I don't know when I’ll start that, let alone finish it.

Before I start I’d like to thank Karolina Żebrowska on YouTube, because she is the only reason I know what era Genevieve’s outfit comes from. I got to watch her videos again, which is so fun, although I should be doing work. The point is go check out her channel. I’d also like to thank @moldygreenblue for helping me actually somewhat understand how Josephine is actually related to the Baudelaires. As well as @magiquartz and their post that also helped me understand the family tree. I’m also giving a thank you to @simperingsimp for their theory/analysis of whether Preminger knew Annaliese’s opinion about marriage. I must also give thanks to the Preminger subreddit, specifically Present_Resource6405 and Inked_Catharsis. Present_Resource6405 posed the question of how tall Preminger is and Inked_Catharsis gave the measurements for nearly all the characters in the movie, which I’ll be using. A large thanks must also be given to @vexingcosmos and @sailorjade125 and @match-your-steps and @queerpiratebrainrot for their posts and contributions in regards to possible outcomes of Preminger’s plan.

Let’s start with a bit of background information. Because I haven’t made an actual essay style post about either of these characters specifically. Yes, I made the theory about Preminger killing the king, that did heavily talk about Genevieve. But she wasn’t the primary focus of that post. And I haven’t talked about Josephine at all in depth. For release dates both films were released in 2004. Princess and the Pauper came out on the 28th of September, 2004. A Series of Unfortunate Events came out a few months later on the 17th of December, 2004. Queen Genevieve is voiced by Ellen Kennedy and Aunt Josephine is played by Meryl Streep in the movie. In Princess and the Pauper, Queen Genevieve is the mother of Princess Annaliese. And in a Series of Unfortunate Events, Aunt Josephine is the aunt to the three Baudelaire orphans; Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire. I am not sure specifically how Josephine is related to them. I’ve looked at the family tree now multiple times and my brain just can’t comprehend it. After @moldygreenblue’s help, I think she may be related via marriage. Because apparently she may have a sibling I never knew about. I’ve also read @magiquartz’s post where they say that she’s their “second cousin’s sister in law.” I don’t know, the family tree is far too complicated and it’ll probably take me another few years to fully comprehend it.

Moving on, I’ll begin with the design similarities, because there’s a few. Plus it’s the easiest place to start. My first point is that you can see both women wear dresses that are historical. Genevieve’s dress style is the oldest; and from Karolina’s video we know Genevieve’s dress is a mixture of different aspects of historical dresses around the 16th century. And she does specifically state the collar of her dress is from the 16th century. On the other hand, Josephine’s dress is from a much later time period than Genevieve’s. I know for definite that it's from the Victorian Era, specifically the late Victorian era. I’ve seen a few people say it’s from the 1890s, so we’ll go with that. Both are floor length dresses and pretty much cover every part of their body. They are also different colours. Genevieve’s dress is a pinkish purple colour. However Josephine’s is black. With both colours of their dresses linking to their character in some aspect. Though we’ll discuss that later.

Another similar thing they share is their hairstyles, as they both wear updo’s. Though the hairstyles are still a little different. Josephine’s bun sits atop her head, that may line a little more the time period her dress comes from. Although I don’t know much about historical hairstyles, just the fashion itself. So please if you know anything about historical hairstyles and if I’m wrong please say so. Genevieve, who I think has a bun, has her hair more so just to the back of her head. And both of them are blonde. I still don’t know how they still have any colour left in their hair though. Josephine is a nervous wreck most of the time; she’s under stress 24/7. However it’s important to remember that in the book, Josephine is explicitly explained as having white hair. And if I had Preminger as my royal advisor for 10 years, and went through what Genevieve went through, I’d definitely have grey hair by now. So hats off to Genevieve for still being dedicated after that time. She’s got more dedication than I ever will.

Although I think the largest physical similarities appear when you look at their faces, are the glasses. Their glasses are very close to being the exact same. Both pairs have the bridge go in a higher curve above the rims and lenses. The lenses and rims are almost perfectly round. Said glasses rest entirely on their noses with no temples. (Temples are the parts that go around your ears to hold them in place) And both pairs are fucking silver! The only visible difference is that there’s an extra bridge and a small chain on Josephine’s glasses.

The last physical similarity that also is something I might discuss later is their age. It isn’t story important, but I just want to point it out. Both are middle aged women. While we don’t have exact ages for either of them, the common opinion across different internet spaces is that they’re most likely in their late 40s to early 50s. They’ve been through a lot in their lives by this point. And I like how you can tell they are middle aged women. Obviously it’s easier with A Series of Unfortunate Events, because Meryl Streep is 75 now. Meaning she was middle aged in 2004. But even with Genevieve, her model has been created in a way that reflects how a middle aged woman would look. Or at least most women look around that age. I just think it’s really neat.

But there are also physical differences I want to explore.

Obviously in Barbie Princess and the Pauper, Genevieve has a pretty healthy complexion. She probably works a hell of a lot, but it doesn’t seem to be taking that much of a toll on her physically. And any emotional effects she’s experiencing aren't really explored. Unlike Josephine who is pretty pale, and is again explicitly described as being pale when she’s first introduced. It’s specifically when they’re talking about the radiator and how she’s scared it’ll explode. This makes a lot of sense for Josephine seeing as she’s probably never out of her house. Or at least very limited contact with the outside world. So being pale would be an effect of not being out of her home and not getting a lot of sunlight.

One thing I can’t place as a similarity or a difference is their height. I’m not sure about how tall they are, and I can’t really compare it. The closest I’ve been able to get is finding Present_Resource6405’s Reddit post where they asked what Preminger’s height was. From Inked_Catharsis’s reply, I learned that Annaliese is about 5ft 9, and that Genevieve is 5ft 10 because she isn’t that much taller than Annaliese. But as of this post being published, I can’t actually find anything on Josephine’s height in the books. Meryl Streep is apparently 5ft 6, so that’s how tall Josephine is in the movie. But for the book, I can’t tell you anything about that.

While not a physical similarity, difference or something I can link in relation to their characters, I’d like to very quickly talk about their names. Both Genevieve’s and Josephine share a similarity in their names because they both have three syllables in them. Again not an important point, just another small similarity I can point out.

Now this is where things start to get more detailed as I try to do more analysis here. So bear with me, because I’m not actually that good at in-depth, critical analysis. It’s been a common critique of my school and college work and I’ve still not improved. Getting back on track, I’d like to discuss how the events they go through before and after the story are similar. But this is also where the major differences appear in their characters. It’s why I believe their characters are reflective of each other. As well as being similar. Especially seeing as they react differently and end up at different positions by the end of the story.

Of course I’ll start with a similarity in terms of their character. Both Genevieve and Josephine are widows, having lost their husbands sometime before the stories take place.

We pretty much don’t know anything about Genevieve’s husband, which makes sense. As I realised while writing this, Genevieve being widowed is a plot device for much later in the movie, where Preminger tries to marry her to become king. Which again after thought, even if Preminger did marry Genevieve, it wouldn’t work for multiple reasons. I’ll be dedicating a small section to it for my essay on Queen Genevieve. As well as linking and talking about other people’s posts about his plan, because they bring some really good points that I never thought about before. Anyway, the most we ever see of him is in the beginning stills, where we can see he wore blue. His hair seems to be a reddish-brown. And that’s it.

However Josephine’s husband is expanded on in much more depth. We are explicitly told quite a bit about her husband. Josephine’s husband was named Ike Anwhistle. He could whistle with crackers in his teeth. And most depressingly of all, we learn absolutely how he died. Ike was literally torn apart by man-eating leeches. And she probably saw that. So this definitely explains a large part of her paranoia and extreme anxiety. Apart from all the VFD stuff. It also explains why her dress is black, she’s still in mourning and hasn’t been able to move on with her husband's death. Alongside everyone else involved in VFD dying during the story. It’s shown to take a toll on her mentally.

Here we come back to discussing their clothing! With the different colours While Genevieve’s dress isn’t black, the colour of her dress still does show at least a part of her character. Out of the main/supporting cast the only people that wear an outfit with a darker pink-purple colour scheme are Preminger and Genevieve. Preminger’s outfit is a full, deep purple. Which does make sense as at the time purple was super expensive to have. And Preminger has been stealing gold for 10 years, so he’d have the money to do so. Genevieve is presumably still rich in some regards, she is the queen after all, so her dress also has a purple shade. I’m guessing the reason her dress isn’t fully purple like Preminger’s, is to set him apart from the rest of the cast. He’s vain and egotistical and must stand out in every way. From his mannerisms, to his hair and obviously his clothes. He’s got the wealth for such extravagance and wants everyone to know it.

Another difference is between what exact roles they have. Genevieve is obviously the Queen of the kingdom in Princess and the Pauper. So she’s making decisions about ruling. Legislation and trading, stuff like that. We’re not shown much apart from her making decisions about Annaliese’s marriage to Dominic, and her marrying Preminger. I am pretty confident in my knowledge regarding the monarchy and their roles historically though, because I study history. So I do know what her role would be outside of the whole marriage plot. I’m not exactly sure what type of job Josephine had though. I know she did a lot of stuff that was extreme and dangerous. But I’m unaware if she had a paying job. Though she does have some sort of money, maybe a widows pension. Do widows pensions even exist in the Lemony Snicket universe? An inheritance perhaps. Either way this particular comparison of them is just another small one, like their names.

And with all those elements of their characters explored to the best of my current abilities. Let’s discuss the main reason I started to compare them and wanted to write this. That main similarity being how they were both betrayed by a man they thought they could trust.

With Josephine, we’re clearly shown that she’s rarely ever outside and with her anxiety it’s made it hard for her to trust people. When Count Olaf comes to Lake Lachrymose as Captain Sham, he recognises that and jumps onto the chance to manipulate her. Manipulating by flattering her, so she grows to trust and listen to him, as she has lost her husband. So having that type of attention in a positive way Therefore when he does reveal to her that he is Count Olaf, her anxiety combined with him manipulating her, she does what he says very easily. Despite this she does manage to get away and the Baudelaire’s do find her. Though she does eat the banana and doesn’t tell them, which……yeah, that was a bad move Josephine. I can understand that she might’ve not wanted to worry them, because of the whole Count Olaf situation. Still a bit of a bad move. She does make another bad move that leads to Count Olaf becoming angered when his grammar is corrected. So he does leave her to die, which he may have done anyway, even if she hadn’t corrected his grammar. And to my knowledge, that's the last we ever see of Aunt Josephine in A Series of Unfortunate Events.

On the opposite end of things, Preminger’s manipulation of Genevieve is a much slower process. I’d also say it's a bit more malicious in how he manipulates her. One reason I say this being that he’s known her for a lot longer. He’s worked for her for 10 years, which we know from his first song “How can I refuse?”. In those 10 years she’s grown to trust him, presumably seeing him as a friend and someone she can talk to. The evidence for this inference is that he is stated to be her Royal Advisor. It’s literally his job to talk to her and advise her on decisions to make for the benefit of the kingdom! And what does he do with that knowledge? He starts stealing the gold from the kingdom and plotting to take over the throne. All the while she's probably still grieving and trying to figure out what is going on with the mines. Then when she tries to fix the bankruptcy problem by marrying Annaliese to Dominic, what’s Preminger’s response? He kidnaps Annaliese and plans to become king by bringing her back with the gold he stole, intending to marry Annaliese. I'm not sure what logic he was using to try that, because Genevieve was probably never going to let Annaliese marry him. So I don’t know what he was thinking with that. And as many people have rightfully pointed out, Genevieve has been widowed for probably a few years by now, so she was always an option for him. If anything, as bad as it may sound, Genevieve was probably the easier option to take for Preminger to become king. She only has him to talk to, and while she doesn’t have a full dependency upon him, because she makes decisions without him. I’d say there may be some emotional dependency, as she’s the main male her age she talks to. @simperingsimp put this really well their post here, how Genevieve wouldn’t think twice with what she tells Preminger. Hence he could have just manipulated her into marriage, and then went from there. Though that does show how good he is as a villain as he had so many options to try and get the throne. In fact Preminger’s plan has a lot of problems, which for now, I’ll just link @vexingcosmos and @match-your-steps posts here and here. The posts themselves do a great job at showing problems with his plans and @sailorjade125 and @queerpiratebrainrot have added some great theories and information. With said information further explaining problems in his plans. So I heavily recommend you check those out.

Overall both Queen Genevieve and Aunt Josephine share a lot of similarities. Not only in their physical appearance but in their personalities and do reflect/compliment each other in a really nice way. Also they both need a break and deserve some happiness in their lives. So I headcanon that they’d be really good friends. I’ll make some art related to it someday. I just hope someone understands this bout of my ramblings. I’d like to say thank you all for reading and I’ll make another art post or essay when I can.

Bye everyone!

[jacqcrisis]

uuuuuuhhhhh I've thinking about a jayvik au in the same magic realism universe that Left Turn is set in. Two people doing probably illegal magic research for generally good reasons in a world with strict oversight in these matters by two separate governmental entities alongside class disparity, restrictive social/cultural norms, a shady underbelly... they fit well in that. Lower the stakes so they aren't working on anything too world changing but still enough where there's tension and navigating a system very much set up against them and obviously two like mind dudes who would have never met meeting and falling head over ass for each other.

And Viktor is easy to slot in there. There's a lower class of witches barred from a lot of their own society due to pissing off the Fae Powers That Be for one of several reasons. Viktor comes from one of these families, while also probably being First Born, which means his mother (or father if mom died in childbirth) refused to give him over to the Fae, which leads to exile. Womp womp. Grows up, probably falsifies information and identity to get into a university and eventually land a government internship. On top of that, magic is a physically debilitating force on the human body with a lot of witches who work in magical research developing lifelong disabilities from the toll their work has taken on their body. A fact that could exacerbate Viktor's pre-existing condition and also give him the drive for possibly wanting to delve into some more illegal research to fix or slow that.

and then you have Jayce, who I can't place just yet. Is he Regular Guy who isn't a witch but became aware of magic due to an event at a young age and has been seeking out how to harness that power? Or is he from a middle class witch family, looking to make something better for the world after his dad died of something preventable while also being subject to the usual expectations of a young man in witch society? I don't know. Torn on that. Thinking about it.

Anyways, similar story beats to canon at the start. Jayce gets caught doing something Probably Illegal, Viktor is on scene to check it out for Department of Not Letting Dudes Do Weird Magic Shit, figures out what exactly this handsome dumbass is up to, they strike a deal, Viktor vouches for Jayce and says actually, he wasn't doing anything wrong, Jayce avoids either exile or having his memory wiped, and now its crime boy time. Straight up crime boy nerd hours where illegal magic is done, detection is evaded, and love is fallen into.

Probably. Maybe. I just...need to write out my thoughts so far. Idea thats been in my head for a few days now.

[chloecherrysip]

We're going to save your brother.