#but not understanding what they need from you well enough to love them effectively

[queenlucythevaliant]

From “The Literary First-Aid Box” by Marina Boroditskaya

Cordelia, you fool! Would it have been

that hard to yield to the old man?

To say to him, ‘I too, O darling Daddy,

love you more than life.’ Piece of cake!

But you wanted him to work it out on his own —

who was the best of his daughters. Proud fool!

And now he’s dead, you too, everyone’s dead. 

And Gloucester! Oh the bloody horror —

his eye-sockets — the scene of the blinding —

fingers leafing quickly through the pages

as if through plates of red-hot iron...

Here, read it now. I’ll turn away. You weren’t there

in that Act, were you? Go on, read it,

look what you’ve done, you stupid little fool!

Alright, alright, don’t cry, but next time

make sure to be more stubborn, and resist the author:

Viola, Rosalind, Catherine,

they managed — why wouldn’t you? 

Like a puppy, pull him by the leg of his pants

with your teeth into a comedy! The laws 

of that genre will lead us out into light... Here

wipe your nose and give me back the hanky.

I still have to wash and iron and return it

to a certain careless blonde Venetian

in the next volume. I’m sorry I told you off. 

Best regards to your father. Remember: like a puppy!

#thinking about where 'insensitivity' falls on the spectrum of human failings and was reminded of this poem #I wrote a paper for the Shakespeare class i took arguing that insensitivity is the crux of the tragedy in Lear #and then like a year later i stumbled upon this poem in a Russian poetry anthology #Marina Boroditskaya was a translator and critic before she was a poet and I really think it shows #anyway insensitivity: #which i would here define as 'failing to love others the way they need to be loved' #not failing to love them at all #or even loving them wrong #but not understanding what they need from you well enough to love them effectively #i wouldn't call it a sin #but it is certainly a function of the human condition #Cordelia loved her dad so so much #but she didn't understand him enough to know that he was an old man who just needed to hear his daughters tell him that they loved him #so she hurt him #she could have been honest and still been kind #but Cordelia didn't understand that the situation called for kindness #and so tragedy ensues #on my birthday my roommate turned down sharing a leftover cupcake with me because it isn't healthy to eat sweets late at night #and I'm pretty sure it was a cultural thing. didn't mean it didn't kinda sting #she didn't understand #and i'm insensitive towards others plenty #because I just don't understand what they need from me #i hurt the people i love most by not realizing that what they need is a listener not a fixer #or by not anticipating that a certain piece of news will upset them #idk i'm probably overexplaining obvious stuff here #but i find insensitivity sad more than anything #nine times out of ten there's no malice in it #most times it's an abundance of love #that just doesn't understand #literature makes us more human

[joycrispy]

One thing I love about Crowley --never stated, but consistently shown-- is that he is, at heart, an engineer.

I have a few different things to say about that. Let's unpack them.

As the Unnamed Angel, we see his designs for the Pillars of Creation are millions of pages long, comprised of cramped text, footnotes, diagrams, schematics, etc. It's very...Renaissance polymath, in the way it implies a particular intersection of artist and inventor.

Also: in the naked romanticism with which he views his stars.

We already knew he made stars, but in s2 we learn that he did NOT sculpt each of them by hand. He designed a nebula ("a star factory," he says) that will form several thousand young stars and proto-planets, and all --aside from getting the 'factory' running-- without him lifting a finger. We also learn that these young stars and proto-planets stand in contrast to those made by other angels, which are going to come 'pre-aged.'

...I'm reminded of Hastur and Ligur's approach to temptations. Damning one human soul at a time, devoting singular attention to it over the course of years or decades, and how that stands in contrast to Crowley's reliance on, quote, 'knock-on effects.'

Ligur: It's not exactly...craftsmanship. Crowley: Head office don't seem to mind. They love me down there.

Hm.

I'm also reminded of the M25.

The M25 may not be as grand as a nebula (sentences you only say in GOmens fandom...), but LIKE his nebula it's an intricate, self-sustaining engine that does Crowley's work for him, many times over. Again.

That's some pretty neat characterization --and so is the indication towards Crowley's disinterest in victimizing anyone tempting individual people. It takes a considerable amount of planning and effort (and creeping about in wellies), but in accordance with his design the M25 generates a constant stream of low-grade evil on a gigantic scale.

Cumulatively gigantic, that is. Individually? Negligible.

But no other demon understands human nature well enough to parse that one million ticked-off motorists are not, in any meaningful way, actually equivalent to one dictator, or one mass-murderer, or even one little influential regressive. That's the trick of it. Crowley gets Hell's approval (which he NEEDS to survive, and to maintain the degree of freedom he's eked out for himself), and at the same time ensures that any actual ~Evil Influence~ is spread nice and thin.

It's some clever machinery. And he knows it, too:

The Unnamed Angel and Crowley are both proud of their ideas.

(musings on professional pride, Leonardo da Vinci, the crank handle, and 'the point to which Crowley loves Aziraphale' under the cut)

In the 1970's Crowley gives a presentation on the M25, projector and all, to a room full of increasingly impatient demons. Maybe the presentation was work-ordered; the 'can I hear a WAHOO?' definitely wasn't.

Before the Beginning, the Unnamed Angel can barely contain his excitement about his nebula. Aziraphale manages a baffled-but-polite, "....That's nice... :)"

11 years ago, Hastur and Ligur want to 'tell the deeds of the day,' and Crowley smiles to himself because (according to the script-book) he knows he has 'the best one.'

(Naturally, his 'deed' has nothing to do with tempting anybody, and everything to do with setting up a human-powered Rube-Goldberg machine of petty annoyance. Oodles of 'Evil' generated; very little harm done.)

Hastur and Ligur don't get it, of course. That's also consistent.

Nobody ever knows what the hell he's talking about.

It didn't make it on-screen, but, in both the novel AND the script-book, Crowley was friends with Leonardo da Vinci. The quintessential Renaissance polymath. That's where he got his drawing of the Mona Lisa --they're getting very drunk together, and Crowley picks up the 'most beautiful' of the preliminary sketches. He wants to buy it. Leonardo agrees almost off-the-cuff, very casual, because they're friends, and because he has bigger fish to fry than haggling over a doodle:

He goes, "Now, explain this helicopter thingie again, will you?" Because he's an engineer, too.

(It is 1519 at the latest, in this scene. Why the FUCK would Crowley know about helicopters, and be able to explain them, comprehensively, to Leonardo da Vinci?

...Well. I choose to believe he got bored one day and worked it out. Look, if you know how to build a nebula, you can probably handle aerodynamics. And anyway, I think it's telling that this is his idea of shooting the shit. 'A drunken mind speaks a sober heart,' and all. He probably babbled about Aziraphale long enough to make poor Leo sick)

Apart from Aziraphale, Leonardo da Vinci is the only person Crowley has any keepsakes or mementos of.

Think about that, though. Aziraphale's bookshop is bursting with letters, paintings, busts, and personalized signatures memorializing all the humans he's known and befriended over 6000 years (indeed: Aziraphale has living human friends up and down Whickber Street. He's part of a community).

Crowley doesn't have any of that. It's just the stone albatross from the Church (for pining), the infamous gay sex statue (for spicy pining), the houseplants (for roleplaying his deepest trauma over and over, as one does), and this one piece of artwork, inscribed, "To my friend Anthony from your friend Leo da V."

To me, at least, that suggests a level of attachment that seems to be rare for Crowley.

...Maybe he liked having someone to talk shop with? Someone who was interested? Someone engaged enough to ask questions when they didn't immediately understand?

...Anyway.

There's also the matter of the crank handle.

This thing:

This is one of the subtler changes from the book. In the book, Crowley knows Satan is coming and, desperate, arms himself with a tire iron. It's the best he can do. He's not Aziraphale; he wasn't made to wield a flaming sword.

The show, IMO, improves on this considerably. Now he, like Aziraphale, gets to face annihilation with what he was made for in his hand. And it's not a weapon, not even an improvised one like the tire iron.

He made stars with it.

[both gifs by @fuckyeahgoodomens]

If you Google 'crank handle,' you'll get variations on this:

Crank handles have been around for centuries. Consisting of a mechanical arm that's connected to a perpendicular rotating shaft, they are designed to convert circular motion into rotary or reciprocating motion.

Which is to say they're one of the 'simple machines,' like a lever or a pulley; the bread and butter of engineering. You'll also get a list of uses for a crank handle, archaic and modern. Among them: cranking up the engine of an old-fashioned car... say, a 1933 Bentley. That's what Crowley has been using his for, lately. But he's had it since he was an angel and he's still, it seems, very capable of it's angelic applications.

Stopping time. For instance.

(This is conjecture on my part, but, I like to imagine that Crowley has the ability to stop time for the same reason I can --and should-- unplug my computer before I perform maintenance on it. Time and Space are a matched set, after all, and in his designs in particular, one feeds into the other.)

I know everyone has already said this, but: I REALLY LIKE that when he needs to channel the heights of his power, he does so not with a weapon but with a tool. Practically with a little handheld metaphor for ingenuity. One from long-lost days when he made beautiful things.

(And he loved it. Still loves it --he incorporated that metaphor into the Bentley, didn't he?)

Let Aziraphale rock up to the apocalypse with a weapon: he has his own compelling thematic reasons to do exactly that. Crowley's story is different, and fighting isn't the only way to express defiance. And if you've been condemned as a demon and assumed to be destructive by your very nature, what better way than this?

He made stars. They didn't manage to take that from him.

Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale are fighters, really --they have no intention of fighting in any war. They'll annoy everyone until there's no war to fight in, for a start. But between the two, if one must be, then that one is Aziraphale. Principality of the Earth, Guardian of the Eastern Gate, Wielder of the Flaming Sword... all that stuff. Even if he'd prefer not to, it's very clear that Aziraphale can rise to the occasion, if he must.

Crowley was never that kind of angel. He wasn't a Principality. He doesn't have a sword.

...And yet.

It's Crowley who protects. He's the one who paces, who stands guard, who circles Aziraphale and glares out at the world, just daring anyone else to come near.

In light of everything else I've said here, I think that's interesting.

Obviously part of it is that Aziraphale enjoys it and, you know, good for him. He's living his best life, no doubt no doubt no doubt. But what about Crowley? What's driving that behavior, really?

Have you heard the phrase, 'loved to the point of invention'? Well, what if 'the point of invention' was where you started? What if where you end up involves glaring out at the world, just daring anyone else to come near? What is that, in relation to the bright-eyed thing you used to be?

What do we name the point to which Crowley loves Aziraphale?

...Thinking about how an excitable angel with three million pages of star design he wants to tell you all about...becomes a guard dog. Is all.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #Crowley #Aziraphale #good omens 2 #good omens meta #unfortunately I do not have trains of thought #only long meandering strolls of thought #sorry about it #anyway tl;dr Crowley is a nerd #also I have a strange emotional attachment to the idea of 1500's Crowley... #...facedown in a pile of Mona Lisa sketches; drunkenly info-dumping about Aziraphale #and Da Vinci is just like. 'Ahhhh mio amico Antonio. You fucking simp.'

[dcxdpdabbles]

For Danny, gravity is a suggestion, but when he's human he prefers to feel ground under his feet while he's thinking. This leads to him often not realising he's started walking on the wall or ceiling when he's lost in thought or otherwise distracted.

Tim's definitely normal human friend Danny, pacing on the ceiling during his third visit at Wayne manor: [ranting about something, probably defending his love of weird flavour combo milkshakes]

The Batfam, silently debating how they're gonna break it to Danny that he's a meta: ........

Tim's eyes follow Danny as he starts pacing around the table, his homework abandoned on the table. His voice is becoming sharper, and his words are strung together more as he continues. He noticed that he became less aware of his surroundings when his friend started going on his rants.

Watching Danny's body language become slightly less human was fascinating. It started with his eyes—if Danny felt angry, they would glow green. Tim always knew when to cut back on his teasing whenever he saw the flash of green, no matter how brief the green was.

When Danny rants about something that upsets or makes him sad, his voice gains a particular echo. It is almost as if he is slowly walking into a cave.

There were times when Danny got excited or happy; his hair would start to puff up slightly. This reminded Tim of when he would rub a balloon on his hair to study the positive and negative charges.

Danny's hair didn't flout straight up, but it was electric enough to be noticeable if you paid enough attention.

It was as if his emotions affected his physical form like a mood ring. Tim could always tell what Danny felt by watching for the little effects.

All these little things were easy to hide. Most people noticed less than Tim did, but there was one little quirk Danny did that was rather hard to miss.

"What if we talked about the effect of well-lit street lights on crime rates?" Danny asked, striding up to a wall and casually pacing on it. He continued to think out loud, with his eyes closed, as he made loops on the ceiling. Tim needed to pay more attention to the subject of their presentation, but he was somewhat distracted by how Danny's hair and shirt defied gravity.

They stayed perfectly in place as if his friend were still on the ground and not upside down. Tim wondered if his powers were less flying and more gravity-shifting.

It would also explain his lower degree of super strength if he could manipulate gravity. (Tim didn't care what Danny claimed in gym class. No regular human could lift two punching bags like nothing, especially for something as casual as cleaning up)

Or maybe he was able to move in a fifth direction. From his perspective, while Tim was stuck in 3D, Danny could move in the fourth and walk on the ground. It would explain why he didn't notice he had stepped on the walls or ceiling. To Danny, he never left the floor.

"No, that wouldn't work," Danny mutters, making loops around the chandelier. "What if we...but then that would mean...."

Tim couldn't make out most of his words, but that was fine. Danny also tended to mutter under his breath when he was deep in thought.

He cranks his neck back, eyes tracing the way Danny seemed to strut around as if he was out for a walk on a nice sunny day in the park. Carefully, making sure Danny was too distracted by his thoughts, Tim aimed his camera phone at him.

He takes a few photos and then opens the family group chat.

Tim: I need advice on gently telling a friend something that may change our friendship. I've tried to say it to him before but he doesn't seem to get it.

Jason: buy him some flowers and write him a poem. He'll love it.

Steph: That's terrible advice, Jay. No one does that anymore

Jason: No one has class anymore, you mean. Besides, boys deserve to be romanced, too.

Dick: Just tell him how you feel, Tim! Be direct and make sure you use the words "I like you romanticly." Sometimes people don't understand you're asking them out.

Damian: Do not bother me with your failed courtships.

Duke: Maybe don't go as far as Jay said, but Dick's right. You have to say, "Go on a date with me" or something.

Steph: Try the bend and snap! It's Elle Woods-approved!

Tim: No, that's not what this is about. I need help telling Danny he might be a metahuman with Superman-level Power.

There is a long pause before his phone vibrates again.

Damian: I beg your finest pardon?

Bruce is typing.....

Tim: He's friendly! He just has yet to notice that what he does isn't regular.

Jason: Wait, isn't Danny that kid we saw you at the ice ring with? The one that snuck up on Cass by accident?

Tim: Yes

Multiple people are typing.....

Tim briefly glances up to see what Danny is up to, and he is surprised that Frost has started developing in his footsteps. That's certainly new. He attached the photos to the chat, sending them off as Danny slowly floated back down.

He watches as his friend flips horizontally in mid-air so that he's standing upright when he lands. His hair is starting to puff up again, so he is not surprised when Danny's eyes snap open with a gleeful glint in them.

"I figured it out, Tim!"

"That's great," Tim tells him with a smile as Danny eagerly returns to his seat. He is babbling about the solution to their government class and how he knows he can get their proposed bill passed with the correct narrative.

Tim watches frost develop around his pencil and chair. Fascinating. Does that mean excitement? He almost forgets about the family group chat while attempting to figure out what emotion Danny is experiencing to connect to frost that he missed a few messages.

Bruce: Tim, where are you?

Bruce: he made Cass jump because she didn't hear or see him coming. That's worrisome.

Bruce: He could be dangerous

Bruce: Where are you

Bruce: Tim, answer me

Bruce: Timothy Jackson Drake, answer the phone right now

Dick: Oooooohhhh middle name

Damian: They are in the left-wing dining room, Father. I already have a visual on them.

Damian sent a photo of two teenage boys sitting at a table, bending over to look at a book together. Papers and pencils are scattered around the stranger while Tim's trusted laptop is in front of his part.

Bruce: Good. Keep them in sight at all times and report any suspicious behavior.

Damian: Naturally.

Steph: No DNA test is needed

Duke: Literally.

Cass: I am confused. I thought we all knew Tim's boyfriend was not human?

Jason: We did not, in fact, know that Cass.

Cass: It is obvious by the way he moves that Danny is not a meta-human. He is close to one, but he moves like a different being. He reminds me of Captain Marvel.

Multiple people are typing......

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Dead tired #Right now Tim just thinks of Danny as a friend #Danny's powers are reflects of his mood #The bats think they are dating #Bruce is having a aneurysm from stress #Text fic #Phone a Friend Au #Part 1

[ssahotchnerr]

BAHAH pls i need a fic where ellie’s cockblocking gets to the point where aaron is desperately asking auntie penelope or jj to babysit her and jack for a night.. he would even entrust spencer for a few hours if nobody else was available just for some alone time😫🤭

on hiatus

this concept is so funny i love it cw; mentions of sex (nothing explicit), brief suggestive content, bau teasing aaron, reader referred to as mom, dad!aaron wc; 1k

"Can't you ask?"

"Well, I could." Aaron's gaze shot to the side, through the blinds and down into the bullpen.

"It wouldn't hurt, right? Because I don't know about you, but I can't wait another night." You exhaled, a slight buzzing effect coming through the phone as a result.

"I'm right there with you." Aaron admitted, resisting the urge to squirm in his seat. "I'm seconds away from reinstalling that damn crib."

"So ask. Anyways, I gotta go. Jack will be home soon, and I should get Ellie up so she does sleep tonight."

Aaron chuckled softly, his eyes finding the family photo framed on his desk. "Why does it not surprise me that for nap time, she'll stay in her bed."

"Stubborn. Just like her father."

After saying goodbye to you, Aaron exited his office, heading to where JJ, Penelope and Derek were all congregating. Their eyes rose as he approached.

"What brings you down here?" JJ asked, using her feet to twist her chair back and forth. "We're not dawdling, I swear."

He brushed past her playful - and untrue - comment. "Need a favor."

Brief distress flashed on Derek's face. "If it requires more paperwork, just give it to Reid."

Like you had said, there was no harm in asking. "It has nothing to do with paperwork. Just in need of a babysitter for tonight."

Penelope's hand shot up, eyes brightening. "Me."

"Big Friday night eh?" Derek wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "What's on the agenda, where the two of you headin'?"

"Nowhere." Aaron shrugged nonchalantly, a smidge of embarrassment heating his face. He was hoping he could persuade with minimal details. "It'll only be for a few hours. We just need them out of the house."

"Oh," JJ smirked after a moment, accompanied with a touch of sympathy. Out of all people, she would understand. "I see."

Aaron met her eyes, keeping his face still but with subtle pleading, hoping she'd tune into it. One that read: I'm begging you not to elaborate.

They were adults. It wasn't a topic of taboo. He just wasn't just too partial on openly discussing his sex life with his colleagues. Doesn't matter how long he's known them.

"Need some, mommy and daddy time, don't you?"

Aaron's stern expression continued to linger, but gradually softened in confirmation. He was tired; tired of waiting and being on the brink.

"No wonder you've been so grumpy."

Aaron shot Morgan a look, before stating his case. "Ellie's out of her crib now. She's learned that the world still continues to go on past bedtime."

"She's out of her crib?" Penelope aww'ed, her bottom lip pouting in bittersweetness.

"And comes into our room," Aaron paused, "every night."

For the first few nights, Ellie had stayed put; the excitement and newness of it all enough to keep her in bed. However, it didn't take long for her to realize she could simply, get up.

She'd come into the living room - you'd usher her back into bed. Jack would come out a while later, complaining Ellie had gone into his room and awoken him - Aaron's turn to return her to bed.

Then came the excuses. She needed water (a sippy cup was given to her, and told this meant she had to go to sleep now). She wanted to watch a movie and "cuddle, please?" It took everything in Aaron to decline, especially after she played up the sweetness in her big, brown eyes.

You'd think after all that, she'd exhausted herself, but no. Next came her crawling into bed with the two of you.

That's where the matter currently stood. She didn't want to sleep in her new big girl bed, but rather, the big bed. Right in the middle, snug between the two of you, and keeping your plans on hiatus.

The next night, you had thought you were in the clear. But sure enough, the second Aaron was straddled atop you, his lips trailing your skin and leaving you breathless, did little footsteps make their way down the hall. Aaron would roll off you instead, supporting himself on an elbow, while you laid there defeatedly, anticipating the opening of your bedroom door.

And again the following night, the same occurrence of events. Admittedly it's been a while since the two of you have been intimate, due to a certain toddler and cases taking Aaron out of town.

Derek laughed, "She's a little menace. I love that kid."

Aaron sighed, both his frustration and need only growing more. His voice wavered on the desperate side, "So can one of you? Please. Just a few hours is all I'm asking."

"I'd be happy to relieve you two. For a full night even, Henry and Michael would love to have Jack and Ellie sleepover." JJ offered, and Aaron internally let out a deep sigh of relief. "Will and I have been there, I get it."

"I-"

"And Aunt Penelope can come too, don't worry." JJ interrupted Penelope with a smile, reaching over and giving her hand a gentle tap.

"I'd- We'd appreciate it. Thank you." Aaron's shoulders dropped, and he could already feel the tension leaving his body. A rush of energy swept through him too, anticipating the delightfully, now long, night ahead. He could not wait to get home.

His thoughts were put on hold when he noticed the glint in JJ's eyes.

"And so you can relieve yourself."

Derek cackled while Aaron rolled his eyes, turning away from the group to hide his smile.

"Just let me know what time you want them over."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x fem!reader

[ao3commentoftheday]

I've always found it hard to find the right words for comments, but I used to try and put down something on all the fics I liked but after seeing what some of my writer friends, who are fairy popular in their fandoms, say privately in the groupchat about some of the comments they get, I can't bring myself to leave any comments at all any more.

I know it's a form or unloading where they can salt without hurting anyone and I generally think that's a good thing, saltmates are needed so you can talk about all the crappy annoying things in fandom in a private space and not spread shit on tumblr or ao3 etc.

But It's so so disheartening to me as a comment shy reader because it's never good enough. If it's just emoji hearts or someone saying "second kudos" it's too short and worthless. If it's epicly long well-written, funny, sweet, and clever love bombing, then it's too much and annoying.

I just don't understand, I don't write myself, I draw, badly, and I never get the kind of praise they sometimes get, but I would LOVE to have some of those things said about my work.

I love my friends a lot and I'm a firm believer in saltmates, but it makes me a little crazy and very paranoid to see the difference between what they say in private and what they actually answer to the comments in public on their fics.

I've read a lot here on tumblr about how fic writers love ALL comments etc etc and a lot of tips and tricks for people who have problems leaving comments, but I dont trust that now and I never comment anymore because I do not want a writer of a fic I love to think such things about me, even if it's just in their minds in private.

Do I have extra salty friends or is this a common thing among writers that no one wants to admits out loud?

From my experience, as a writer in fandom on and off for 20-ish years and as the mod of a comment-positive fandom ask blog, your friends are extra salty.

Have I heard people get frustrated with "I liked this!" comments? Sure. But for every one of those, I hear at least 10 people who are giddy and bouncing and just over the moon that someone liked their fic. I've never heard anyone complain about "epicly long well-written, funny, sweet, and clever love bombing." Most fic writers I know would probably pass out from happiness if they received one of those.

I don't know your friends, of course, but it sounds like someone in the group got a little toxic at some point and the rest of them went along, for whatever reason. Maybe burnout was a factor. Maybe they had a specific thing they wanted to get from their comments section that they weren't able to receive. Whatever the cause, the effect on you is bad.

I know you didn't ask for what to do about this, but I'm going to lay it out for you anyway:

stay in the group chat and feel worse and worse about every comment you've ever left on a fic

say something to your friends and ask that they have those conversations when you're not around (your choice if you include the part about it being because they make you feel bad)

leave the group chat and maybe also lose those friends

None of those options are great, but your current situation already sucks so it might be time to try something new.

I'm so so sorry that they made you feel like your comments weren't enough, anon. You don't deserve that. No one does. I hope if those authors see this ask that they pause and reflect and realize the audience they were speaking in front of.

I agree that people need a place to be salty, and I appreciate them doing it in a private space - but it wasn't private enough. ❤️

#asks and answers #long post

[meiieiri]

𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 [geto suguru]

synopsis: suguru geto upped and left that day without a moment’s notice and he took everything with him — your heart, your soul — but as you look at the positive pregnancy test in your hand, you realize that he did in fact leave one thing behind.

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, angst, explicit sex.

a/n: i know, i know. i should be writing WE but this concept has been in my head far longer than WE and i just need to get it out there or else, i think i’m gonna go insane. if anyone wants to know the plot of this would have been fic, feel free to let me know lmao, of course it still involves gojo bc i can’t choose between the two of them since they’re both so baby girl—! also happy birthday to the loml, my pookie-wookie, honeybunch, suguru geto!!

It’s been a year since the happy side trip to Okinawa became a living nightmare that culminated in you, Suguru Geto, and Satoru Gojo on the brink of death and with many more scars than you could have ever imagined. The three of you had very different ideas on how to cope. Satoru spends the past year perfecting his cursed technique, often at the expense of his emotional well-being and energy but then again, after what Toji Fushiguro did to him leaving him with the trauma of being slaughtered without regard, it was only natural.

You and Suguru on the other hand retreated into yourselves; it was hard to believe that just a year before the two of you were a normal teenage couple who enjoyed walking the trendy streets of Shibuya in the weekend sunshine without a care in the world, whose only real problem is to decide where the two of you were gonna have your weekly dates.

Now, things were different. Rainclouds have gathered effectively blocking out the sun. As you sat on the desk reading through your textbook on reverse cursed technique, you glance at Suguru from time to time and you aren’t the least bit surprised to see him sitting by the dorm room’s windowsill, staring at the garden with an empty gaze.

You’ve had enough of this. This eternal state of limbo was tearing you and Suguru apart.

Slowly, you stand up from the desk, softly padding across the wooden floor to where your boyfriend is. It was the middle of the night, last you checked, it’s already nine in the evening. You should be heading back to the women’s dorms now but you couldn’t, not when things were like this, not when Suguru’s losing himself day after day, you can’t help him, you know that, but you could be there for him seeing that’s all you can do.

But even then, it’s never enough.

Your relationship with Suguru is like a lit dynamite stick, you know that it’s only a matter of time before it also explodes in your faces. So, Suguru takes the lead, like he always does, he’s so much wiser and stronger than you in every way though he doesn’t care to admit it, though he pretends he doesn’t know why you’re so dependent on him.

“I think we should break up.”

He says that while holding your hand. You saw this coming but just how long did you anticipate that the love of your life would eventually up and leave you? You squeeze his hand with every ounce of the grief you are feeling hoping it would transcend the confines of your skin and it would reach his heart. “Is that what you really want?”

“No.”

He stands up to meet your gaze, the throw blanket falling to the floor as he does. He leans in closer, his hand cupping your cheek with such tenderness and heartache that you feel your heart rise to your throat. Suguru is normally so gentle like a shower of midnight rain, but he kisses you like this is the last — it probably is. Lost in him, your hands trail over his chest, and he deepens the kiss hoping that you’d also understand that he doesn’t really want to leave but he has to. He can’t bear to drag you into his mess.

He could never do that to you.

You respond with a soft moan when Suguru slowly lifts your shirt over your head. He stares at your plump breasts for a moment, covered only by a thin lace-like material, before deciding that looking at you wasn’t enough. He has to take you, ravish you, fondle you, kiss you. Anything to let you know that he’s not doing this because he’s fallen out of love with you.

“Don’t leave,” you plead in between his soft kisses to your breasts, tears slipping from your eyes as he removes your bra, letting it slip from your shoulders which he was now kissing up to the crook of your neck. How could your hearts be so full yet so empty at the same time?

None of what happened should have caused this much heartache between the two of you. In fact, it should have made you rely on each more, right? It should have strengthened you not destroy everything you had: each other, the future you planned together.

Suguru doesn’t answer as he nips at your neck, sucking on the delicate flesh, as your forms gracefully fall on the bed, he stares at you with such love, such devotion, and you wonder why this should be the last time. His gaze falls to your vulnerable form, his cock hardening at the sight of your clothed pussy getting wet just from that. He grinds against you, sighing at the way you buck your hips to meet his wanting more of him. If this was to be the last time, then, you want to make it count.

“Suguru, I’m yours.” That’s all he needs to hear and he removes your underwear, kissing down your leg as he slips it off of you. He tosses it onto his nightstand, and he leans towards it to grab a condom from his drawer. You catch his hand. “Don’t. I want to feel you.”

Suguru’s eyes widen at your request, his lips eliciting short huffs of breath. He’s never fucked you raw before. “Are you sure?”

You nod against his forehead. “Please. Please fuck me, Su.”

Slowly, his hand guiding his tip up and down your slit, smearing your wetness along the base of his cock before slowly pushing into you savoring the sensation of your cunt squeezing around him as he stretches you with his girth. A deep groan betrays him and his mouth hangs open as your tight walls envelop him as he bottoms out. He takes a moment to collect himself, not wanting to cum right then and there.

“S-shit. Ah, you’re so fucking tight.” He allows himself a small thrust, the tip of his cock already nudging your sensitive spot, having memorized you after many desperate nights of lovemaking. His fingers grip the soft skin of your hips as he pulls out momentarily before pushing back in again more forcefully this time.

“S-su! Mngh—please fuck me—I love you, I love you, I love you,” you beg.

A tear slips from Suguru’s eyes, it was becoming more real now — this final goodbye. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he slowly builds up the pace of his thrusts, his cock bullying your cunt, driving himself in and out of your pussy, again and again. He brings your leg to his waist, holding it so he could angle himself better. “I love you too.”

You mewl as he pistons in and out of you, his balls slapping hard against your skin. “Sugu—ah! More—n-need more of you—“ You’re crying now, and he is too as he continues to ravage your pussy, his hand finds your other leg and he pushes your knees close to your chest, folding you into a deep mating press, slamming into your cunt.

“I’m yours. Always,” Suguru looks into your eyes amidst your desperate cries, your thighs trembling under his passionate gaze. He grunts when he feels the familiar tightening of your walls. “You’re close—fuck,” he takes this as an incentive to go faster, harder, and he fucks you in a way he never has before.

“So good—oh—“ you fall silent as he suddenly brings your hands to your clit, letting you touch yourself. You looked so beautiful like this, under him, your head thrown back against the pillows, your mouth primed in a silent ‘o’. He pants as he feels his balls tighten when your hips involuntarily buck into him as you climax. “Suguru!”

“Ah, baby…” He groans, the hot breath from his lips tickling your forehead as he rides out his high, spilling his seed into you not caring what the consequences may be. You did want this after all, and he did too. You feel full just from the sensation of his thick cum, he thrusts into you one last time, further smearing his release in your walls.

You sighed as he stays there, your weak and trembling arms coming up to embrace him. He strokes your hair, memorizing each lock, pulling out after a while. Suguru pulls you flush against his chest, the remnants of his and your release sliding down your thighs. “It’ll be okay,” Suguru catches his breath, kissing your temple. “Even without me. You’ll be okay.”

“I won’t…you know I won’t.”

“You will.” He says firmly. “I promise. You know me, baby, I never break my promises.” You feel tears well up in your eyes again and he tenderly wipes it away. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too.”

By the next morning, you already knew with the way the AC’s cold air nips at your skin without Suguru, your Suguru, there to embrace you that he’s already left.

Without a note, without a goodbye. Typical of Suguru who doesn’t want to stick around to see you cry.

You curl into yourself as sobs wrack your body, the promise ring Suguru gave you gleaming under the rays of morning sunlight.

A few years later, just as Suguru said, things did get better. You smiled as you arranged the last of the tempura into the bento box filled with soba noodles with nori and small containers of mentsuyu and wasabi. It’s amazing how much she takes after him. You look at the clock and your face pales. You’re running late, so, you head upstairs to speed things up a little. You creak open the door to see the little blessing of your life, the last gift Suguru ever gave you. She’s looking at the picture of you and Suguru which you placed in her room, and since you know it was highly unlikely she’ll ever meet your lover in this lifetime, you’ve decided you want her to know him if by his appearance alone and the stories you tell her.

“Riko? We’re gonna be late,” you gently reminded your four-year-old daughter. You shoot her a funny look when you see the haphazard way she placed her hair in a bun. She pouts as she tries to get it right again, looking at her father’s picture intently. “Sweetheart, are you trying to look like—?”

“Like papa,” she huffs cutely and you chuckle, moving to pick her up and sit her down on your lap. Kissing her cheek, you also gaze at the picture depicting a candid you and Suguru during your first year at Tokyo Jujutsu Technical College. He has his arm wrapped around your shoulder, winking at the camera as he kisses your cheek, a silent gleeful laugh on your face.

You look at her, a little confused, you gently smooth her hair before planting a kiss between her eyebrows. “And why do you want to look like papa?” Riko shyly looks away, her ears turning a little red as she blushes, a trait she inherited from you. You flick her nose, giggling. “Well?” Riko laughs at the playful gesture.

“…So you don’t cry anymore, mama.” Your heart seems to have stopped beating for a moment and a warm, tearful smile appears on your face, wrapping Riko in a bone-crushingly tender hug. “Love you…” she sinks into the warmth of your hug and you kiss the top of her head.

“I love you, Riko. So…so…much.”

At that, your little girl sighs in relief. “School?” she tilts her head and you suddenly remembered the reason you went upstairs. You had to get moving. Your eyes widened and you carry her downstairs, being careful not to jostle her too much. “My hair, mama!” she giggles at her still unruly hair and you grimace in embarrassment. Suddenly, the front door opens and Riko sees who it is, before you could grab the spare brush from your bag, she suddenly jumps out of your arms and makes a beeline for the door.

“Papa, papa!”

You turn around and though the sight pains you to this day, somehow, you’re starting to learn to live with the fact that things are always bound to change with time and that this is what Suguru would have wanted: a loving and complete family for his little girl. You wrap Riko’s bento and place it in her lunchbox before going to greet the visitor.

“Hi, babe.” He turns to meet your lips for a sweet kiss, balancing Riko in his strong arms.

“Good morning, Satoru.”

#geto x y/n #geto smut #geto suguru smut #geto suguru headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #geto suguru #geto suguru x y/n #geto x you smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto #geto angst #geto x you

[cammys-imagines24]

°•Astarion When You're Injured•°

On the one hand, oh no, his beloved is hurt.

On the other, gods is he turned on.

Now if you were actually at deaths door, that would be different.

Astarion would be a nervous, furious, tear stained wreck. Worrying that he'd lose the single most important thing in his cursed existence.

The one thing that truly matters in his life. You.

But, if you're injured from just the run of the mill scrapes you get yourself into? Well that's fair game for him to be horny as all hell.

The way you wince when you roll up your shirt, a stab wound gouged into your abdomen.

How the blood trickles down to your breeches and stains your flesh, the crimson glinting in the slant of moonlight coming in from your partially open tent...

He'll feel his pants grow tight.

"Darling, I know you're injured and probably aren't in the mood but I must say you look positively scrumptious right now."

Astarion will watch you like a hawk as you stumble about your tent, looking for alcohol, bandages, a needle and thread.

The way you bite your lip to stifle yet another whimper, the sweet scent of your blood in the air. He licks his lips.

Oh, he could just eat you right up.

"Kitten, you've got to stop whimpering and groaning unless you want me to ravage you this instant."

When Astarion sees you go to clean yourself up though, he'll be absolutely affronted.

"Ah, ah. Don't you dare grab that rag, my dear. Have you forgotten about little old me? I could clean the blood off of you far better."

He'll say, sinking down to his knees before you. Have no fear though, the vampire will lick your wound til not a single leaking drop of your blood is left.

"This really gets you going?"

You'll ask, bracing your hands upon his shoulders for balance, your skin tingling from his attentive mouth. He's so skilled that you've nearly forgotten about the pain. Nearly.

"Well, my sweet, I could do without the you getting stabbed part but how can I resist when you're dripping red in front of me? You don't know the effect you have on me."

Astarion won't be selfish enough to ask you to take care of the little, well big, problem in his pants however.

He loves you dearly and he is here to help, in anyway he can.

You are injured and he understands that what you need from him isn't unbridled passion but sincere affection.

He will offer to stitch you up himself, seeing as your wound is in an awkward position and you can't really see it unless you're in front of a mirror.

The pale elf will tell you to lie down while he practically straddles you to get closer to the afflicted area.

Crimson eyes twinkling, fangs pearly and white as he smiles but he'll be gentle.

Threading through your raw skin carefully and giving your thigh a few affirming squeezes with his other hand when you gasp.

"See, pet? Aren't I just the best lover you've ever had? Flesh isn't so different from fabric and my stitches are perfect, wouldn't you say?"

Afterwards he'll wrap your stomach in bandages and get you anything you need.

Medicine to make you feel better and of course, all the recuperation time you need.

So much so that if the others in your camp need you that he will shove them out of your tent and order them to leave you be.

You'll not be leaving your bed for awhile that's for sure. Not while he's here to act as your nurse.

When you ask him to lay in bed with you, Astarion will give you one of his rare, tender smiles. Genuine with no mischief.

The fact that you need him and want him near is still a marvel to him.

It warms his ice cold spawn heart.

Makes him feel things he hasn't felt in 200 years.

"Oh, alright. My body is yours, in more ways than one."

Astarion will joke, flirtatious smirk slotting back into place along his mouth but he'll slip into bed without a fuss.

Your head resting on his chest, him mindful of your wrapped up abdomen.

Once you've had your medicine, rejuvenating sleep will call to you but before that you whisper how much you love him. Your words quiet in the night, against his ruffled shirt.

He'll hear you all the same and it disarms him.

"I love you too, sweetheart. You have to learn to be more thoughtful of yourself. Can't have you dying on me, now can I?"

Astarion's voice velvet, his fingers tracing abstract patterns along your back.

In his comforting embrace your eyelids droop, the pain a distant throb that you wish to have pass. His cold chest soothing against your flushed, exhausted cheek.

He'll pull you even closer, if that's possible and kiss the crown of your head.

"Sleep now, darling. I'll be here with you. Always."

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 astarion #bg3 astarion x reader #astarion x reader #astarion imagine #astarion imagines #astarion headcanon #astarion headcanons #baldur's gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 imagine #baldur's gate 3 headcanon #bg3 x reader #bg3 fic

[little-diable]

Marry Me - Dean Winchester (smut)

This can be read as a part 2 to this fic - but you don’t need to read it to understand the story line. The lyrics are from the song “Joy of my Life” by Chris Stapleton. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean finally finds his confidence to ask (y/n) to marry him.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, car smut, super fluffy, slight jealousy and possessiveness

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2k words)

She's sweet to me, must be the luckiest man alive. Did I tell you, baby, you are the joy of my life?

“Isn't it funny that this car has seen all our good but also our ugly days?” (Y/n)’s voice filled the Impala as she held onto her food, taking another bite while letting her eyes wander. Dean and her were parked in the middle of nowhere, another getaway from Sam and the bunker the couple had been desperate for. 

It had been a while since Dean had taken her stargazing, letting their eyes take in the most beautiful spectacle, while Dean’s hand had found the small pocket of his jacket, touching the box of the ring he had been carrying around with himself for a while. 

“She really has, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” Dean studied his girlfriend with an unreadable expression (y/n) tried to pay no mind to as she got lost in her memories, remembering the first time she had sat in the Impala. 

“So, that’s Baby, huh?” She whispered the words while she let her fingertips trace the leather of the dark seat she sank into. A proud smirk was resting on Dean’s lips as he nodded his head, mimicking her wandering gaze. 

“My most prized possession.” The words had left Dean’s parted lips before he could stop himself, cursing himself for saying this to his new girlfriend. But all (y/n) did was laugh and shake her head at her grinning boyfriend who stared at her with excitement laced in his gaze.

“What is it, Dean?” Her voice grew lower as the words rumbled through her, letting them vibrate on her lips. He moved closer to press a kiss to her lips while his right hand found the back of her headrest, keeping himself close to her. 

“The backseats are quite comfortable, if you feel like testing them out.” Dean’s words drew a gritty laugh from (y/n) as she only nodded her head before finding her way to the backseat. Within seconds she found herself straddling Dean’s lap while their lips got lost in a rough kiss. 

“I still remember the first time you introduced me to Baby, I was sure you’d eventually end up marrying your car.” Her laughter had an addicting effect on Dean, drawing a few from him as well while he kept studying (y/n). His heart began to beat faster in his chest as his thoughts began to race. 

Perhaps this was the moment he had always been waiting for. This was the perfect spot, hidden in the dark, while Baby offered them enough comfort and distraction, away from their busy life and home. Dean took one last bite of his burger before he wiped his fingers and slowly reached for his pocket, closing his fist around the velvety black box. 

(Y/n) had her all too oblivious gaze focused on the window, once again remembered of another night they had spent in this car. 

Silence filled Baby. A thick silence that left (y/n)’s heart painfully clenching in her chest. No word had been shared between her and Dean since their fight, an escalation of jealous words and angry sensations they couldn’t shake. 

“Do you really think I’d cheat on you?” Her voice was small as she spoke the words, letting them rumble through Baby while she shuffled around on the seat to look at Dean, who was laying behind her. 

It took him a few moments to speak up as he closed eyes as if he was trying to shake the memories of what had drawn these ugly words from his parted lips. It had been foolish, a stupid mistake he had instantly regretted as tears had welled up in her eyes. 

“No, I don’t.” She was a friendly soul, always had been, but it was something Dean clearly struggled to accept, especially when she shared one of the smiles he wanted to be the only one receiving, with strangers. She was a beautiful woman, it was no surprise that men chatted her up whenever she stood alone, without Dean near, and yet it still left him spiralling, urged on by his fear of losing her. 

“You know,” (y/n) cleared her throat as she also finished her food. Slowly she turned her head back towards her boyfriend, while pondering over the words she so desperately had wanted to speak for months now. “We haven’t really talked about marriage and all these things before, but I can’t help but wonder, if that is even something you’d want.” 

Dean could tell that she was nervous about speaking these words, struggling to let them roll off her tongue while fumbling with her fingers. A shaky exhale left him before he reached for her hand with his free one, letting their fingers interlace. 

“Do you remember when we went stargazing a few weeks ago?” (Y/n) could only nod her head with a slight confusion tugging on her features. 

“I had promised myself that I’d ask you to marry me that night, but even though I was never so sure of something as I am of the love I have for you, I still fear that one day you’ll pack your bags to run from this mess we are stuck in. Sam told me that I don’t need to be scared, because you’d never do that. And I know that, deep down I really do, but perhaps it wasn’t the right moment, the right day. But now, here, with Baby,” the rest of his sentence was left hanging in the air. Tears began to well up in her eyes as she watched Dean pull his left hand from the pocket of his jacket, exposing a small box to her eyes.

“Will you marry me, (y/n)?” The words were whispered, filling the small space before a sob broke out of her. All (y/n) could do was whisper a small "Of course" as Dean opened the box to expose the most beautiful ring she has ever seen. 

Both their hands were shaking. Dean had his eyes set on her finger as he slowly slid the ring onto it – all while being unable to bite down his grin at the sight. Her hands found his cheeks to pull him in for a teeth clashing kiss, drawing desperate moans from them in unison. 

First time that I saw you, you took my breath away. I might not get to Heaven, but I walked with the angels that day

“I love you, Dean Winchester.” She mumbled the words against his lips as he held her close, letting another shaky though relieved sigh pass his lips. 

“I love you too, future Misses Winchester.” Her teary laughter rumbled through her as Dean kissed her again, deepening the kiss with his wandering tongue and his impatient hands. Her mind was racing, still trying to understand what had just happened, something she had been thinking of since meeting Dean, and yet she had never dared to have the talk with him.

God, how lucky she was, getting married to the man she never wanted to part from again, forever glued to his side as if their fate had been interlinked since their births. 

“Backseat?” His question vibrated against her lips while (y/n) choked on her moan, desperate for him to fuck her on the seats that had experienced their best and their worst moments. For a second, they parted, to find their way to the backseats, before (y/n) straddled his lap and let her hands undo his trousers, while they kissed again, and again. 

“I can’t believe I get to marry you. I must have done something right after all.” Dean’s words left her heart clenching in her chest. (Y/n) wanted to tell him that there was so much he had done right in his life, that there were so many things he should be proud of, but the words died on her tongue as his fingers disappeared beneath her dress to wander over the damp fabric of her panties. The groan leaving Dean made her buzz in excitement, unable to bite down a groan of her own. 

“Fuck, you’re already so wet for me, sweetheart.” He began to rub her pulsing bundle through the thin fabric, while she finally managed to free his hardening cock. Their eyes held contact as (y/n) spat into her hand before she began to pump him, giving them both enough courage to let go of their sounds to fill the dark Impala. 

“Dean, don’t waste any time, I want to feel you inside of me.” Her moaned words left Dean chuckling in glee, a gritty sound that made her walls clench around nothing, begging him to finally sink into her. Their eyes held contact as his tongue kissed his teeth, sinking further into the seat while his fingers pushed her panties aside. She held her dress up to offer him a view that made his cock twitch, watching her position herself while he could only stare up at her and thank his lucky stars for pushing them together. 

Both let go of a heavy moan as (y/n) sank down on his cock. She allowed herself to rest for a moment, to push her forehead against his, while both took a deep breath. Slowly she began to move, supported by Dean’s hands, who couldn’t stop his fingertips from digging into her skin. 

The sound of their bodies moving filled Baby, followed by sinful sounds they couldn’t stop from breaking through them. Both were grateful for the darkness that had wrapped them in a comforting embrace, clinging to them to hide their frames from anybody who could walk past the Impala. Stuck in their own bubble, forever interlinked.

“I always knew you were perfect for me, fuck, I can’t believe I get to marry you.” Dean’s head rolled back against the headrest to stare at his now fiancée, the most beautiful woman his eyes had ever been fortunate enough to look at. She was perfect in any and every way, crafted for him only, made to cling to his body. God, sex had never felt like that before he had met (y/n), it had never been this intense, this raw, this loving. He wouldn’t trade this for the world, forever glued to her side. 

“Dean,” (y/n) whined his name as she reached for his hand to push it closer to her pulsing bundle, needing the extra friction to push that familiar heat through her aching body. Their foreheads met, pressed together as they trembled, knowing that their highs were oh so very close. 

He couldn’t stop his hips from meeting her thrusts, trying to bury himself even deeper inside of her as she trembled in his lap. He’d fight every creature, every being for this sight. Dean would do anything to hold her like this for the rest of their lives. 

“Look at me, (y/n).” His choked words forced her eyes to meet his green ones, holding contact as she came for him. Dean’s hips began to move again, jerking upwards to fuck them through her high, only to follow her a few seconds later to imprint himself on her walls. 

“I can’t wait for the night of our wedding.” Dean panted the words that drew a laugh from (y/n). She rested her forehead on his shoulder, holding herself to him as he was still buried deep inside of her. 

“Of course this is the only thing you think of. I can’t believe I’m marrying such a horny bastard.” His hands began to tickle her, forcing a loud laugh out of (y/n) as she threw her head back, letting the sounds fill the car.

“You wouldn’t have it any other way, sweetheart.” 

Some may have their riches, some may have their worldly things, as long as I have you, I′ll treasure each and every day

Just take me by the hand, I am the luckiest man alive, did I tell you, baby, you are the joy of my life?

#Dean Winchester smut #Dean Winchester x reader #Dean Winchester imagine #supernatural smut

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hello!! Do you know any TTRPGs surrounding translation or languages? 😊 (thanks for all your work btw!!!)

THEME: Language / Translation Games

Hello friend! As someone who studied linguistics in university, I absolutely love talking about all of the funky things languages do! I hope these recommendations tickle your fancy!

Dialect, by Thorny Games.

Dialect is a game about an isolated community, their language, and what it means for that language to be lost. In this game, you’ll tell the story of the Isolation by building their language. New words will come from the fundamental aspects of the community: who they are, what they believe in, and how they respond to a changing world.

Dialect uses a deck of cards to help minimize the amount of choices you have to make in character creation, by dealing three cards to each player and having the players choose one from just those three. You track the change of your language over a series of turns, using prompts to help you navigate the conversations that arise in your community as the world around them changes.

Dialect has been very highly regarded as a game that really delivers on the experience that it promises. The grief that accompanies language death really shines through this game, so if you want to combine the wonder of creation with the pain of losing something so integral to your sense of being, this is the game for you.

Tiny Frog Wizards, by @prokopetz

You have mastered the secret arts of sorcery

The very primordial energies of creation and destruction are yours to wield as you will.

You are two inches tall.

Tiny Frog Wizards is a game about tiny frogs, wielding magic using the power of words. When you want to do something magical, you will roll somewhere between 1-3 dice, and use the values of your rolled dice to determine how the range, magnitude, and control of your magic.

What’s important in terms of this game recommendation is the Control aspect, because how well you are able to wield your magic depends on how many words you are able to use to make things happen! It’s a lot easier to use a spell with precision if you have enough words to detail where you want a magical pen to write, or what you want to throw a tiny magic missile at. Not enough words? Then the GM has license to cause some humorous side effects, or, if you roll poorly enough, cause your spells to really go off the rails.

If you like games where you need to choose your words carefully, Tiny Frog Wizards is worth checking out - especially since it’s in free playtest!

Xenolanguage, by Thorny Games.

Xenolanguage is a tabletop role-playing game about first contact with alien life, messy human relationships and what happens when they mix together.  At its core, you explore your pivotal relationships with others on the mission as you uncover meaning in an alien language. The game gives a nod to soulful sci-fi media like Arrival, Story of Your Life and Contact, but tells its own story. It’s a game for 2-4 players in 3-4 hours.

In Xenolangauge, you play as a group of people bound together through a shared past with unsettled questions. Your task is to understand why the aliens have come and what they are trying to tell us. You will soon discover the key to understanding lies in your memories together.

This is definitely an in-person game, as it is meant to come with a modular channeling board that will provide you with alien symbols that you will use to help you interpret messages. This is more than a game about language, it’s about relationship, shared memories, and connection.

Xenolanguage was kickstarted at the beginning of this year, but you can check out the above link to pre-order the game if this sounds interesting to you!

Star-Spawned, by Penguin King Games.

One unearthly night, a ray of colourless light descended from the stars, and under its warping radiance, creatures unlike any the world has ever seen were born. They do not know the world, and they do not know themselves. Unfortunately for the world, they're quick learners!

Star-Spawned is a GMless, oneshot-oriented tabletop RPG in which you don't know what your own traits do when play begins. The names of each group's stats are randomly generated using morpheme chaining, and characters are created while having absolutely no idea what they mean; figuring that out forms the greater part of play.

Star-Spawned is more about self discovery than it is about language, but the use of morpheme-chaining in character creation is intriguing to me. You will randomly roll three pieces of a word, and then chain them together to create a unique Facet, available to the players as stats. These Facets don’t have a meaning when the game begins - you need to play to find out what they mean. If you like playing around with semantics - the meaning of words - this might be a game for you.

Degenerate Semantics, by Mikael Andersson.

Degenerate Semantics is a role-playing game for 1-5 players and one Game Master (GM). The players will each portray a character who live in Emmaloopen's poverty-stricken lower city. They are young, wild, ambitious, and independent. This way of life is threatened by other factions, and the players will need to have their characters work together to survive and thrive.

In the process of playing the game, the players and GM will define and flesh out a language called Bandethal. A collection of street terms and slang, Bandethal is used both as a way to talk openly about illicit activities without alerting authorities and to establish street cred. The terms are liberally mixed in with plain English, or when the language is mature enough, can be used entirely on its own. The characters' success is in large part based on how proficiently the players wield the language.

A friend of mine ran this game for me three or four years ago, and it’s been sitting in the back of my head ever since. Degenerate Semantics was created for a Game Chef competition in 2014, and has remained in the same state since then. I don’t think there’s any more work being done on it, but the game is there for anyone who wants to give it a go - and while there’s a setting that comes with the game, that setting is highly flexible, depending on what your group is interested in. Our group decided to use a lot of gardening metaphors, and undertook a plant-based heist as our act of rebellion! If you want a game about the power that language can give a tightly-knit group, this is the game for you.

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DROWWORD, by Ursidice.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #dnd #asks #languages

[keyotos]

loved you every single day

summary ⎯ what is love for the xianzhou guys? that's basically it. very sappy and tender and sentimental.

includes ⎯ dan heng, blade, jing yuan

tana's words ⎯ hi...

dan heng

⎯ dan heng had a vague understanding of what love felt like. before the astral express, he never really knew what love really felt like due to memory loss. but he learned, eventually.

⎯ he found love when himiko always offered to make another coffee cup for him (this time, with the blend he enjoys). he found love whenever march/stelle would check on him during the late hours of the night, knowing he'd be buried in books. he found love whenever welt offered to shoulder the burdens of keeping watch during trailblazing missions.

⎯ but he has never felt love like this before. not with you anyway.

⎯ there was a sense of loyalty he had for you. of course, he was obviously also loyal to the crew, but it was different with you.

⎯ you made him want to follow you towards the end of the universe. you made him want to run with you into the light or whatever awaits the both of you later on. he was willing to do all of it.

⎯ why? a lame question to ask, he thinks. there are hundreds of reasons why, and he could list them easily. was your smile and the way it instantly warmed an entire room enough reason? or should he add onto the fact that you were practically made of stardust and cosmic radiance? that you have some kind of miraculous or even transcendental ability to string words so brilliantly that it manages to calm the harshest of voices down?

⎯ and love was scary for dan heng, at first. there were too many hindrances and difficulties in his life. for one, he could not let you get caught up in his past. he wouldn't: he would make sure of it. for two, he wasn't very used to love.

⎯ yeah, there was the express crew. but there was also you. dan heng thought that he would spend the rest of his life alone. he still has not settled into his room on the express because he reasoned that he'd stay until the archives until he was ready to leave. but you challenged all of that.

⎯ how is it that one person could make him want to stay by their side forever? how is it that you have such an enormous effect on him, yet you aren't even aware of it? every wall or barrier he's put up, you've always managed to erode it down. you allowed him to be vulnerable and you allowed him to be carefree. you allowed him to relax. to breathe.

⎯ loving you, was to breathe, for dan heng. you were the gasp of air that he needed while he was drowning beneath the waters. finally being able to decompress and unwind; he felt lighter around you. less stressed, less worried. less stoic. less somber.

⎯ he has never even thought of love like that before he had met you. but you changed him. and he is eternally grateful for that. eternally grateful for you. you are his home, his safe space, his sanctuary of security.

⎯ so he repays you often. he knows what kind of tea you drink and how to make it by heart. he makes a cup for you every morning. you have your own shelf in his archive. hell, you have your own damn space in there as well. there's an indent of you in every corner of every room.

⎯ or maybe, dan heng is so accustomed to you that he sees you in everything.

⎯ he lets you read from his shoulder. he has a shelf filled with all your favorite books from various worlds in his archives. he lets you sleep on his body rather than the flacid mattress on the ground, because he wants to keep you as comfortable as you've kept him. his fingers trace your body every night you stay with him, to ensure that you are safe and you are here, and he is home.

"are you sure you're comfortable like this?" you ask, situated on top of dan heng's body. you're partly afraid that you'll crush him with your entire body weight on him, and that his back would hurt after tonight, "wouldn't it just be smarter to crash in my room instead?"

his chest rises and falls underneath you, getting slower and slower as time goes by, "if you'd like. we can go."

you bite the inside of your lip in thought. it would be safer to do so, for both your and dan heng's safety. but, to be honest, you were very comfortable and tired. "is your back gonna be okay after this?"

"it'll be fine," he brushes off, "besides, you've been sleeping on me for the past few nights now. i can handle one more night."

"huh???"

blade (contains lore spoilers)

⎯ love was something blade has always lived without. as a child, with war and battles as a constant on his homeworld, there wasn't any room for affection or anything similar.

⎯ but then you came along, practically shaking his entire world. there you were, dragging him off to drink god awful mung bean soda. to force him to go outside on days where he was over-occupied with work. to let him enjoy something for once in a while. to let him rub his thumb over yours in the quiet hours of the night, forgetting about work and all other duties.

⎯ he had never thought that loving could be so easy until he met you. it seemed as though time would stop in his tracks whenever he saw you. blade thought it was a myth coming from romance novels (one he had heard from you, ironically enough), but it proved to be, in fact, real.

⎯ and everything was easy. up until everything wasn't. it was one thing, then the other. baiheng passed, jingliu was extremely distraught. it was wearying to see everything go so downhill, so fast. nobody was ever the same after that period.

⎯ yet even after all that, you still had the same look in your eye. you looked at blade the same way you looked at him all those years ago. so much has changed between the both of you, and you know that the both of you would never be able to return to the past.

⎯ though, even after all of that, some things remained the same. for example, the way you never failed to take his breath away. seeing you for the first time in years had him going through a plethora of feelings: distraught, appalled, and slightly less dejected.

⎯ but most importantly, there were still parts of the other's heart still beating for each other. even if you couldn't love him anymore, you still cared about him. you cared about him the same way you did all those years ago.

⎯ you went out of your way to find him. you went out of your way to offer him solace, even if it was for one last time. why? he didn't want to know, he didn't want to ask. he has a mission: he has to pursue it, always. nevertheless, he still found himself underneath the sun's rays, as it managed to follow him wherever, saying, "i'm here. even if you don't see me sometimes, i am still here."

⎯ and if you still cared... well, there was still hope, right?

he's leaning over a rail, looking over the xianzhou skies and the starskiffs racing by. he hasn't been back in ages. it feels... strange; it feels as if he's experiencing his first day all over again.

blade is so fascinated by the sight that he fails to hear your footsteps come closer, now reaching his side. he only hears you after you clear your throat. he's startled, for obvious reasons: but, when he sees you hold up a mung bean soda in surrender, he's surprised at how fast the panic dies down.

"aren't you going to arrest me?" he took a step back from you. you didn't move, but instead held out the drink.

"i could," you dragged out, checking your watch, "but... i'm not on duty," the corners of your lips turn up ever so slightly, like you were happy at the fact that you were having a drink with a criminal. you pull open the tab and take a sip, then offer it towards him.

he blankly stares at your hand. remembers the feeling of it in his. now, his mind is skewed. maybe even grotesque if he wanted to sound dreadful about it. but there are few happy memories he can recall, as well as the feelings during them, and it seems like you are recreating one of them currently. and oddly enough, there are no feelings of bitterness that follow him this time.

he takes and drinks the mung bean soda, and to his surprise, it’s not as bad as it was many years ago. maybe it was because your lips were on it, or maybe it’s because the once atrocious drink did get better. and when he looks up and is greeted by your curious face, he hopes that love is like that as well.

jing yuan

⎯ years ago, if you had asked jing yuan what love was, he'd say something benign: love is indescribable. a simple answer for a simple man in love. but oh, has time took its toll.

⎯ it isn't to say that love isn't indescribable. on some days, he finds it worrying that he may love you too much⎯that his willingness to give you the world was a bit concerning at times. others point it out, but jing yuan chooses to be blindsided. but he is always aware.

⎯ aware. jing yuan is nothing short of perceptive. he has been around for centuries. he has been there for wars, for battles, for decrees. and it sticks with him: forever. he does not simply forget, yet he is forced to stay in one place forever. immorality may be a blessing for others, but a curse for xianzhou natives.

⎯ he does not give himself a moment to fully relax. even if it seems that way a lot (the dozing general needs his power naps), he is always back to his duties.

⎯ however, it's different with you. with you, he has no burdens to shoulder. he has no secrets to keep from you. there is no wall of tension blocking between you. with you, everything is for grabs. his feelings, his emotions, his heart.

⎯ vulnerability. many look down at the vulnerable. and in jing yuan's line of work, the cost of vulnerability comes with a substantial price. his guard has to be up at all costs, because if not, there would be another catastrophe. his act as a lazy general is just a rouse, because there is so much that's weighing on him inside.

⎯ in a city that flies, jing yuan feels rooted by the weight of the luofu.

⎯ so imagine the amount of unconcern he feels when he's around you. the feeling of rocks suffocating him has subsided, and you are here to remove them. and one by one, he begins to feel lighter and lighter as you hull them off.

⎯ and you don't get tired. you're still here. you keep picking off the rocks, even the smallest ones. you relentlessly continue until everything is gone, and the only things left are just you and him.

⎯ by now, he understands what love is. it's when he knows how your fingers have ran through every crevice of his brain, every knot in his stomach, every knot in his soul. it's understanding. it's being able to shoulder the weight of the world with another. it's someone staying to help you get the rocks off of your body.

⎯ love is being met with soft touches instead of daggers. love is being met with mhms and reallys while retelling a story from this morning. love is being able to speak about the past, the truth of it all, and allowing the light to peek through instead of the darkness. that is what love is.

"and then, get this, i found him in the midst of a fight with blade," jing yuan throws his head on your shoulder exasperatedly, disregarding the fact that you were halfway through your novel.

"well, he was doing his job," you counter, looking back towards your lover.

"i know," he slides a hand across his face, "it's just tiring. and i don't want him to get hurt." like others, is the unspoken phrase here. it's on the tip of his tongue, you know it.

you place a bookmark in your book before shutting it. you finally turn your full attention towards jing yuan, "he's strong. you trained him."

"but," he sighs, "what if it's not enough?"

you decide the mood is a little too melancholic, so you decide to lighten the mood a little bit, "then i'll take over as general of the luofu," you grinned. jing yuan smiled as well: your smile was infectious, how could he not?

you ran a hand through his hair, "you are good enough. i hope you know that. you won't fail yanqing. he's tough and stubborn... he sadly gets that from you."

jing yuan chuckles, a real chuckle, and pulls you closer to him as you grab your book once again. he presses a chaste kiss to your temple as he reads along to the same words on a page as you.

yes, things will be okay, he thinks.

hi y'all! i have been sooo busy w sm stuff lately, like i've been preparing for college and i've been going to the gym and i've been doing sm. updates have been scarce except like the 3 alhaitham posts (i couldn't resist). but hopefully during these last few weeks of summer i can get my grind back on!!!

#tana writes (∗´ ᨔ `∗) #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #blade x reader #blade x you #hsr blade #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #im back from the dead #ive had sm stuff to do like i had the college talk td and man o man o man #tbh some of my metaphors DID NOT make sense. i wrote this at 3 am like all my other fics #missing when i used to pump out hcs before 12 am 🙁🙁🙁 #honestly blade's is a little short but i'm still trying to figure out his character so i promise u blade lovers i will feed u soon hehe

[lexabitxh]

S.W | Drunk Confession

summary: y/n gets a bit too drunk, and confesses her feelings unknowingly to sam winchester.

perspective: third person.

word count: 1837

The night was young and the Winchesters & l/n had finished up a case that took several days. It felt good to win. It was a pride and joy feeling they got to feel other than guilt and disappointment from other unsuccessful cases.

"Another round, on me."

Y/n said as she signaled the bartender and pointed at their empty shot glasses. It's been a long day and genuinely, they all needed this. A moment to unwind after a long week of hunting.

"You sure you haven't had enough?"

Sam said as he looked a little concerned. Y/n scoffed, "Now I understand why your brother calls you so uptight. Stop being such a chick, Sam" she said, while taking down another shot of rum.

Sam felt the need to be the one sober for the night. Usually he'd drink a few shared beers with Dean, but being that Y/n was tagging along, it required someone responsible to take care of the two. Dean let out a chuckled, "I'm starting to like her" he said, pointing at her while popping a fry into his mouth. Sam rolled his eyes in annoyance at the two's behavior, they always acted so childish.

•

"Dean, you're drunk-"

"I'm not drunk, I'm awesome" Dean slurred his words, laughing as he clinked his glass of beer with Y/n. They've been drinking for hours and slowly but surely they were starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. Sam shook his head in disappointment, not sure what to do anymore.

"Stop being such a party pooper, Sam and loosen up a little. Just have one drink with us." she insisted while playfully nudging his shoulder with hers.

You'd think since you can't beat them, you might as well join them... but being that Sam was... well Sam, he'd spend the rest of his night looking after the two, hoping they wouldn't get themselves into any trouble.

•

'Na-na-na, come on

Na-na-na, come on'

S&M was blasting through the speakers, while Sam drove the car back to their motel. Dean sat in the passenger seat, his window rolled down as he was swaying his upper body to the beat, bopping his head to the rhythm. Y/n sat in the back, her hands in the air while singing to the top of her lungs.

She could feel the liquor coming up to surface, but managed to contain herself together. She knew if she were to throw up inside the impala, Dean would kill her himself and dispose of the body without a sweat.

'Love is great, love is fine (oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

Out the box, outta line (oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)'

Sam kept glancing from Dean to Y/n, laughing just a little. He's never seen this side of Dean before. It was nice seeing him all loose and happy, it's as if everything they've done in life so far, all the good and bad things had disappeared for the time being.

"'Cause I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it. Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it!!" Y/n sang while Dean tried his very best, but fail miserably as most of his words came out sounding gibberish.

Sam contained his laughter as he kept glancing through the review mirror, watching Y/n dance with a drink in her hand, her eyes closed for the most part, but even so, she looked enticing. The way she was feeling herself. Her lips, her eyes, the was she felt the music through her body.

At one point he lost control of the wheel, causing every one of them to jerk just a little. "Eyes in the road, buddy" Dean said as he took another swig from his beer. Sam looked back only to find that Y/n was no longer in his eyes-of-sight.

"Y/n?" He did a quick look-over only to find her slumped in the backseat, passed out. "Great."

•

Sam pulled into the motels parking lot, putting the car in park before turning off the engine. He sat there for a moment, watching Dean struggle to get out before in doing so. To his surprise, Dean had somehow managed to get inside their motel room without a problem. Sam shook his head and he got out to check on Y/n.

"Y/n?"

He had opened her side door and peeped inside, lightly shaking her awake, but she barely moved except making a few grunting noises.

"Mmh??"

"We're back at the motel... c'mon, let's go" he said softly. He knew he wouldn't get anywhere anytime soon with her current state, so with that being he helped her out. "Careful" he said as he grabbed her by her waist and wrapped one arm around his neck.

"Ok, ok, let's make this easier for you" he said as he scooped her up bridal style and carried her back inside. He used his foot to close the door on the way in, looking around for Dean before noticing him dead asleep on the floor.

"Alright... here we go..."

Said Sam as he gently placed her on her bed. He grabbed a blanket and placed it on her as he then removing her boots. Before he could walk away, Y/n grabbed him by his arm.

"Sam..."

Sam stood there awkwardly, looking down at her as the touch of her hand made him feel all sorts of feelings.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you..." she mumbled as she was trying so hard to open her eyes. "You're a good friend" she slurred, causing Sam to chuckle lightly. "Of course" he replied, "Get some rest."

"Also, you're a cute, Sam." she said, which caught him by surprise. "W-what?"

"You. Are. Cute..." she whispered, "and stupid." Sam was taken aback from her last comment, narrowing his brows together as he tried so hard not to smile. "But I like your stupid face. It's so stupid. It's so... I like it. Can I touch it?" she said while attempting to reach for his face, but was far from her touch.

He laughed a little. "You're drunk, Y/n" he said as he brushing her hair to the side.

"Yes I am. And I'm hopelessly in love with Sam Winchester... but it's a secret. Sam can't find out about this" She mumbled.

Sam could feel his cheek burning up about the confession. A smile so wide he could hardly contain his excitement. "Alright, it's our little secrete then" he reassured her.

"Pshhh"

"Shhhh"

He gestured as he smiled down at her.

"Goodnight, y/n" he said, hoping to get one in return, but she had quickly fallen asleep. He stood there for a little longer, watching her sleep peacefully. He shook his head, smiling like an idiot before going to bed. He figured he'd take the opportunity to enjoy the entire bed to himself, considering that Dean had taken the floor.

•

Y/n had woken up to the room spinning, her eyes having a hard time adjusting to the sunlight that shun in her face. She looked around the room. Dean no where to be seen and Sam sitting by the small table, who seems to be reading something off his laptop.

"What time is it?"

She said as she didn't remember how she gotten to bed last night. Sam looked up and smiled, "It's one in the afternoon. Don't worry, there's no case for the day" he assured her. "There's some ibuprofen and a glass of water right next to you" he pointed.

"You're a life saver"

She said, reaching for it as she popped the pills and swallowed it down with the glass of water. The water had quench her thirst, but she still felt hungover. "What happened last night?" She'd asked.

"You mean you don't remember?"

Y/n shook her head, "the last thing I remember was singing in the car to Rihanna. Which now thinking  back to it, that was pretty embarrassing" she laughed a little. "you have no idea what you did last night" Sam chuckled mischievously, causing Y/n to worry.

"Samuel. What did I do?"

She asked, unsure of what she might've done that could be so bad other than having a karaoke with Dean Winchester. "I was promised not to tell" he said while gesturing his lips sealed.

"Sammy!" She yelled in annoyance, kneeling on her bed as she was intrigued of what she had done last night. Endless of possibilities had ran through her mind, but none that she could remember of. Sam shook his head, a cheeky smile on his lips as he didn't say a word. "C'mon, Sam! Just tell me!" She pleaded.

Sam knew how'd she react if she knew what she'd done last night, and he didn't wanted to put her through that embarrassment. Though there was nothing to be embarrassed about because if he was too being honest, he felt the same way about her.

"Well, if you really wanna know..." he said as he closed his laptop, "you said my face looks stupid" he said pausing before going on. "And that you liked my stupid face."

It all came back to her. She felt her body go numbed and her cheek flush with a bright burning sensation of red. "You remembered now" Sam teased, causing her to grab ahold of a pillow and shoving her face into it. In that moment, she wanted to die.

"Oh. My. God!"

She cried as she got up from her bed. "Sam, I'm so sorry. I-I was drunk, and it felt easier for me to confess... I didn't want you to find out this way. How embarrassing!" She cried as she buried her face into the palm her hands.

Sam quickly got up. "Hey, it's alright" he reassured her, gently removing her hands from her face and holding them in his.

"I'm glad you told me. Cause I don't think I'd ever have the courage to tell you how I felt" he said. "You, too, have a stupid, cute face" he quoted her, laughing just a little. "And I like that" he added.

"You do?"

Sam nodded as he gotten closer to her, closing the gap between them. "I like you, Y/n." He said as he leaned down to place a soft kiss against her lips. All her worries had melted away in that moment of bliss. She'd dream of this very exact moment, but she'd never imagined this is how it'd happen. Over a drunk confession.

They were soon utterly interrupted by Dean, who had bursted into the room with bags of food. "Woah, what I miss?" He said as he had caught them by surprise.

Y/n and Sam looked at each other, a shade of pink on their cheeks as they held hands like kids in love.

#supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #deancas #sam and dean #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #fanfic #yn #imagine #the winchesters #gif

[songbirdseung]

young love 2 / nishimura riki

read part one here 🤍

synopsis: she fell first but he fell harder type of scenario. ANGTSY

warnings: jealously, one sexual innuendo and suggestive part with hoon (but no smut) btw this takes place in college time

wc: 6.6k

"hey, you've been avoiding me all day. Is everything alright, babe?" Mina settled down beside Riki, who sat lost in thought, facing the beach. Unaware of her presence, he was entirely focused on the crashing waves, the chilly breeze, and the swirling thoughts in his mind. "Riki?" She called out again, giving him a gentle nudge. Finally snapping out of his trance, he turned to his girlfriend, apologizing and asking her to repeat what she had said. "Are we okay? Or more importantly, are you okay?" She remained oblivious to Riki's growing feelings for YN, unable to connect the dots. However, Riki knew he couldn't break her heart with such information, especially during what was supposed to be a joyful trip. So, he concocted a white lie, reassuring her that he would be fine.

mina studied riki's expression, a hint of concern lingering in her eyes as she waited for his response. riki forced a smile, masking the turmoil churning within him as he reassured her with a nod.

"yeah, babe, everything's fine," he replied, his voice steady despite the tumult of emotions raging beneath the surface. "just got lost in my thoughts for a moment there, but i'm okay now."

mina's features softened with relief, a smile gracing her lips as she reached out to squeeze his hand gently. "okay, just making sure," she said, her voice warm with affection. "you know i'm here for you if you ever need to talk, right?"

riki's heart swelled with gratitude for mina's unwavering support, but a pang of guilt tugged at his conscience as he realized the depth of the lie he had just told her. he knew he couldn't burden her with the truth, not when it threatened to unravel the delicate balance of their relationship.

"yeah, i know," riki replied, forcing himself to meet mina's gaze with a reassuring smile. "thanks, babe. i really appreciate it."

with a sense of unease lingering in the back of his mind, riki pushed aside his inner turmoil, determined to make the most of their time at the beach and protect mina's heart at all costs. but beneath the facade of calm, the storm of conflicting emotions continued to rage, leaving riki adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

unbeknownst to them, you sat a few feet away, nestled in one of the beach chairs, solitary. Your sole desire was to relish the view while immersing yourself in music until Mina settled beside Riki. You couldn't deny the effect they had on you anymore, though a small part of her still pondered the possibilities of what could have been. But now you had Sunghoon—shouldn't that be enough to make you happy?

"jeez, yn, you're such a dunce," you muttered to yourself, your voice barely audible. you removed your earphones and shut your eyes tightly, attempting to divert your thoughts from what might have been. "well, maybe not entirely stupid… okay, sometimes," sunoo's voice interrupted from behind, causing you to jump slightly. he chuckled at your startled reaction before settling down next to you, inquiring about the whereabouts of your significant other. you gestured in the direction where sunghoon, jake, and a few strangers were engaged in a game of beach volleyball. "so, why are you sitting here alone? and conveniently positioned just a few feet away from riki and mina?" sunoo probed further.

you shrugged, offering a weak smile to sunoo. "just needed some time alone, i guess," you replied, your voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "and as for the seating arrangement, pure coincidence, i assure you."

sunoo raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical yet understanding. "right, coincidence," he echoed, a playful glint in his eyes.

sunoo's smile gradually faded into a serious expression as he fixed his gaze on you. "don't tell me you still have feelings for him, yn. i thought we were past that," he remarked, his tone tinged with concern.

you shook your head and let out a sigh, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on you. "it's not like i have feelings for him, i don't," you clarified, but then added, "but you can't blame me for occasionally wondering about the alternative possibilities or outcomes that could have been, sunoo."

deep down, all you truly desired now was sunghoon. you loved him dearly, but riki, your first young love, remained a lingering presence in your thoughts, a part of your past that refused to fade away.

"i get that, but instead of being so dramatic—" sunoo began, but you cut him off with a playful jab. "as if you're not dramatic as fuck, you're the drama queen in this friend group," you teased, earning a chuckle from sunoo as he playfully slapped your arm.

"shut up and listen," sunoo continued, his tone more serious now. "stop dwelling on the past. stop thinking about those things and start focusing on the future. a future where you find peace of mind, whether you're in a relationship or not."

he flicked your forehead lightly, a playful gesture before offering you the chance to join jake and sunghoon in a game. with a nod, you accepted his invitation, grateful for his words of wisdom and the distraction of spending time with your friends.

that's precisely what you ended up doing, making your way over to sunghoon's team with a gentle nudge from sunoo, who seemed determined to reunite you with your beau. as you joined their side, sunghoon greeted you with a sweet kiss on the forehead, causing a blush to rise to your cheeks.

"why's your forehead all red, baby?" sunghoon inquired with a playful grin, prompting you to sheepishly recount sunoo's teasing antics. your boyfriend chuckled at the anecdote, releasing you to join the game.

"get a room, damn!" jake's voice rang out from the opposite side of the net, his playful jab accompanied by a smirk. "ready to lose, yn?" he taunted, a competitive glint in his eye as he prepared for the match.

you chuckled at jake's playful taunt, feeling the familiar rush of competitiveness coursing through you. "lose? not a chance, jake!" you retorted, matching his competitive energy with a grin of your own.

with the game about to begin, you took your position on the court, feeling the warm sand beneath your feet and the anticipation building in the air. sunghoon flashed you an encouraging smile before the match started, his unwavering support giving you an extra boost of confidence.

as the game progressed, laughter and friendly banter filled the air, each point won or lost accompanied by cheers and groans from both teams. despite jake's confident taunts, your team managed to hold your own, each player contributing their skills and teamwork to keep the game tight.

in the end, it was a close match, with both teams giving it their all until the very last point. but as the final point was scored, your team emerged victorious, erupting into cheers and high-fives as you celebrated your hard-fought win.

"another round? maybe with riki this time?" sunghoon suggests, glancing behind at the couple. everyone nods and calls riki over, along with mina.

"oh, come on, riki! join us, it'll be fun," jake calls out, waving riki over with a grin.

riki hesitates for a moment, exchanging a glance with mina before standing up and making his way to the group. mina follows closely behind, a slight frown creasing her brow.

as riki joins the circle, the atmosphere shifts slightly, a subtle tension hanging in the air. you can't help but notice the awkwardness between riki and mina, wondering if anyone else has picked up on it.

as the game begins, you can't help but feel the weight of the unresolved tension lingering in the air. every interaction between riki and mina seems strained, their once easy rapport now marred by unspoken words and lingering doubts.

despite your efforts to focus on the game, your mind keeps drifting back to the uncomfortable situation unfolding before you. it's clear that something is amiss, but no one seems willing to address the elephant in the room.

as the game progresses, you can't shake the feeling that this outing, meant to be a fun-filled day at the beach, has taken an unexpected turn. and with each passing moment, the tension threatens to unravel the fragile bonds that hold your friend group together.

in the midst of the game, your attention scattered, you fail to notice the volleyball hurtling towards you. suddenly, both sunghoon and riki spring into action, moving at lightning speed to shield you from the incoming ball. sunghoon reaches you first, his arms wrapping around your waist protectively as he checks if you're alright.

"are you okay, yn?" he asks, concern etched into his features as he holds you close.

you nod, reassured by sunghoon's presence, but your gaze flickers to riki, who stands nearby with a nonchalant expression. despite sunghoon's awareness of riki's proximity, he brushes it off, focusing solely on ensuring your safety.

"thanks, sunghoon," you murmur gratefully, offering him a small smile.

meanwhile, riki rolls his eyes at the scene, a hint of annoyance flashing across his face before he turns away, seemingly unbothered.

as the game comes to an abrupt end, jake takes the initiative to diffuse the tension, suggesting that it's time for dinner despite the sun still hanging high in the sky. his words break the awkward atmosphere, prompting everyone to agree with a collective sigh of relief.

"yeah, let's call it a day," sunghoon chimes in, shooting a reassuring glance at you.

as the group begins to disperse, mina's gaze lingers on riki, her brow furrowing with realization. it dawns on her that riki's peculiar behavior may be more than just casual indifference — perhaps, deep down, he harbors feelings for you.

"you like her, don't you?" mina's voice cuts through the tension, her words hanging heavy in the air as everyone turns to look at riki.

riki freezes, caught off guard by mina's direct question. his cheeks flush slightly as he meets her gaze, unable to form a coherent response in front of everyone.

the atmosphere grows uncomfortably silent as the weight of mina's words sinks in, casting a shadow over the group. you exchange a glance with sunghoon, both of you unsure of how to navigate the sudden awkwardness that has enveloped the once cheerful gathering.

-

in yuna's room, the tension from the beach outing still lingered in the air like a heavy fog. yuna paced back and forth, her frustration evident in every movement.

"she's so dumb, why would she say that with everyone there?! she could've just talked to him in private, gosh, i knew i never liked her," yuna exclaimed, her voice laced with anger and disbelief.

you reached out to your best friend, trying to soothe her frayed nerves. "hey, maybe she was just in shock, in realization, yun. calm down," you urged gently, hoping to diffuse the situation before it escalated further.

yuna huffed, her agitation not yet subsiding. "but still, it's such a personal thing to bring up in front of everyone. poor riki must feel so embarrassed," she lamented, sinking onto her bed with a frustrated sigh.

you nodded in understanding, sitting down beside her. "i get it, it wasn't the most tactful move on mina's part. maybe she just didn't think before speaking," you suggested, trying to offer a different perspective.

yuna sighed, running a hand through her hair. "i just hate seeing riki like this. it's obvious he's struggling with his feelings, and mina's comment probably didn't help," she said, her voice softer now, filled with concern for her friend.

"i know, but maybe this will be a wake-up call for him to confront his feelings," you offered, trying to find a silver lining in the situation.

yuna nodded, her expression thoughtful. "you might be right. i just hope things don't get even more awkward between them," she said, casting a worried glance towards the door as if expecting riki or mina to walk in at any moment.

yuna suggests that you talk to riki, to make him realize that it's too late now and he needs to get over these feelings he developed for you.

you consider her suggestion carefully, knowing that it might not be an easy conversation to have. but you also understand the importance of addressing the situation before it becomes even more complicated.

"yeah, maybe you're right. i'll talk to him," you agree, steeling yourself for the inevitable awkwardness that lies ahead.

yuna gives you a supportive smile, grateful for your willingness to help. "i know it won't be easy, but i think it's for the best. riki needs to understand that life moves on, and dwelling on what could have been will only hold him back," she says, her tone hopeful yet firm.

with yuna's encouragement, you resolve to have the difficult conversation with riki, hoping that it will help him find closure and move forward.

after discussing, you decide that it might be best to give riki some time to process everything before broaching the subject with him.

"i think you're right, yuna. i'll give riki some space for now," you say, nodding in agreement with your friend.

yuna nods in understanding, appreciating your decision. "that sounds like a good plan. let him come to terms with everything on his own terms," she says, her tone thoughtful.

with a shared understanding, you and yuna leave the conversation at that, knowing that confronting riki about his feelings is a delicate matter that requires careful consideration and timing. for now, all you can do is wait and hope that he finds the clarity he needs to move forward.

after a while, yuna decides it's time for you to head back to your shared room with sunghoon. as she closes the door behind you, she can't resist making a few suggestive jokes.

"alright, lovebirds, time for some alone time," yuna teases, winking mischievously as she sends you off.

you chuckle at her playful banter, shaking your head as you walk towards your room where sunghoon is waiting for you, already out the door. just before you reach him, yuna calls out one last joke.

"remember to keep it pg-13, we don't want to hear any wild noises," she adds with a laugh, causing you to blush and sunghoon to raise an eyebrow in amusement.

you enter the room, trying to stifle your laughter from yuna's playful remarks. sunghoon looks at you with a bemused expression, clearly curious about what transpired outside.

"what was that all about?" sunghoon asks, a smirk playing on his lips as he approaches you.

you shake your head, still grinning at yuna's antics. "oh, just yuna being her usual cheeky self," you reply, trying to downplay the situation.

sunghoon chuckles, wrapping his arms around you. "well, now that we have some privacy, what do you say we make the most of it?" he suggests, his voice low and suggestive as he leans in closer.

you feel a rush of excitement at his words, your cheeks flushing with anticipation. as you lean in to kiss him, you can't help but be grateful for the playful banter that brought you both closer together.

-

the next morning, you feel a gentle nudge as sunghoon wakes you up, his warm smile greeting you as you open your eyes. hovering over you on the bed, he leans in, and you plant a soft kiss on his nose before stretching lazily.

"good morning, sleepyhead," sunghoon says affectionately, his eyes sparkling with fondness.

you return his smile and sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. sunghoon gives you a quick peck on the cheek before getting up to let you get ready.

downstairs in the kitchen, you find riki sitting with sunoo and jungwon, engaged in a lively conversation. you offer them a warm greeting as you join them, feeling the pleasant buzz of morning chatter fill the room.

"good morning, everyone," you say cheerfully, exchanging smiles with the group.

while you're carefully arranging sunghoon's cereal with fruits, jake shuffles into the kitchen, his eyes still heavy with sleep. spotting you, he does a double-take and then lets out a surprised gasp.

"whoa, what's that on your neck?" jake asks, his voice laced with sleepy confusion.

you freeze in your tracks, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you realize what he's referring to. jungwon stifles a laugh at jake's sleepy shock, while sunoo and sunghoon exchange surprised glances.

riki, sitting nearby, seems to pretend not to notice, focusing intently on his breakfast.

you meet riki's gaze briefly, a pang of guilt washing over you as you remember your plan to talk to him soon.

sunghoon, catching on to the situation, jokingly scolds jake. "hey, jake, mind your own business!" he says with a playful grin, trying to lighten the mood.

amidst the light-hearted banter, sunghoon shoots you a knowing look, silently asking if you're okay. you offer him a reassuring smile, silently thanking him for his understanding.

jake, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, seems to realize the awkwardness of his comment. "oops, sorry, didn't mean to pry," he mumbles sheepishly, retreating slightly.

you nod, grateful for his apology, and continue with your breakfast preparations, trying to shake off the embarrassment. sunghoon steps in to help, smoothly diverting the conversation to a more neutral topic.

as the atmosphere in the kitchen lightens, you exchange a glance with riki once more, silently acknowledging the impending conversation that hangs between you.

with breakfast finally ready, everyone gathers around the table, the earlier awkwardness dissipating into the background as laughter and chatter fill the air.

after breakfast, you and sunghoon take on the role of "parents" of the group, tackling the dishes together as the others relax or continue with their morning routines. the warm water and soapy suds provide a soothing backdrop as you work side by side, the clinking of dishes filling the air.

as you scrub away at a stubborn stain, sunghoon glances at you, a serious expression crossing his face. "hey, yn, now might be a good time to talk to riki," he says gently, his voice barely above a whisper over the sound of running water.

you pause, considering his words, knowing that sunghoon is right. it's better to address the situation sooner rather than later, especially before any more awkwardness arises.

nodding in agreement, you steel yourself for the conversation ahead, grateful for sunghoon's support and understanding. with a shared determination, you and sunghoon finish up the dishes and then make your way to find riki, ready to finally have the difficult but necessary conversation.

riki was alone, engrossed in a video game when you approached him, quietly taking a seat beside him. his fingers paused on the controller, and you could sense the tension radiating from him as you spoke up.

"hey, riki… can we talk?" you ask softly, your voice carrying a mixture of concern and determination.

riki's eyes flicker with uncertainty as he turns to look at you, his expression guarded. he hesitates for a moment, clearly apprehensive about what the conversation might entail.

"yeah, sure," he replies, his voice slightly shaky as he sets the controller down and turns his full attention to you.

as you and riki sit together, the weight of the impending conversation hangs heavily in the air. you take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the difficult words you know you need to say.

"riki, i… i need to talk to you about something," you begin, your voice trembling slightly with emotion. "i'm sorry… i know you have feelings for me, but… i don't feel the same way anymore."

riki's expression falls, his shoulders slumping as your words sink in. "i… i understand," he replies softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "i'm sorry, yn. i should've realized my feelings for you sooner… i regret rejecting you before."

you shake your head, feeling a pang of sadness at the pain in riki's eyes. "it's not your fault, riki," you say gently, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. "we were just meant to be friends… childhood friends who grew apart romantically."

riki nods, his gaze dropping to his lap as he struggles to find the right words. "i should've tried harder… i should've fought for us," he murmurs, his voice thick with regret.

you offer him a sympathetic smile, squeezing his shoulder gently. "it's okay, riki," you assure him. "we both made mistakes… but we can't change the past. we need to focus on the relationships we have now, separately."

riki nods again, a sense of acceptance settling over him as he looks up to meet your gaze. "yeah… you're right," he says quietly. "i'm sorry for everything, yn."

you nod in return, a weight lifting off your shoulders as you both come to terms with the situation. despite the sadness of the moment, there's a sense of closure in knowing that you can move forward as friends, each on your own path towards happiness.

as they finish talking and discussing the future of their friendship, they share a heartfelt hug, a silent understanding passing between them. just as they begin to pull away, mina walks into the room, her expression apologetic.

"hey, sorry to interrupt," mina says softly, her eyes filled with sincerity. "i just wanted to say that i didn't mean to cause any awkwardness yesterday. my intentions were genuine, i promise."

riki and you exchange a glance, a flicker of relief passing between you at mina's words. "it's okay, mina," you say with a warm smile, genuinely touched by her sincerity. "we understand."

riki nods in agreement, his expression softening as he looks at mina. "yeah, we know you didn't mean any harm," he says, his voice filled with reassurance.

mina lets out a relieved sigh, a weight lifting off her shoulders as she smiles gratefully at her friends. "thank you for understanding," she says, her voice tinged with relief. "i'm really glad we can move past this."

with a sense of resolution in the air, the three friends share a brief but meaningful moment of understanding, each grateful for the bond of friendship that binds them together.

-

as they wandered through the bustling streets, the group took in the sights and sounds of the city, their laughter echoing off the walls as they recounted funny stories and shared inside jokes.

"hey, jungwon, are you sure we're going the right way?" sunghoon teased, earning a playful shove from jungwon.

"of course i am! i've got a great sense of direction," jungwon retorted with a grin.

sunoo jumped in with his signature humor, "yeah, if by 'great sense of direction' you mean getting lost every five minutes!"

the group erupted into laughter, with yuna adding, "well, at least we'll have an adventure!"

riki, who had been quiet earlier, chuckled softly, finally joining in on the fun. "yeah, who needs a map when you've got jungwon?"

jake, always quick with a witty remark, quipped, "yeah, he's our own personal compass, leading us in circles!"

the banter continued as they strolled through the colorful streets, each joke and comment bringing them closer together. despite the occasional wrong turn and detour, they knew that as long as they were together, every moment would be an adventure.

reaching a park with various attractions and things to do, you spotted something that reminded you of your childhood. with a grin, you grabbed riki's arm and pulled him over to take a look.

"hey, remember this?" you said, pointing excitedly at the familiar sight.

riki's eyes lit up with recognition, and he chuckled as memories of your childhood flooded back. "yeah, i remember. you were terrible at this game," he teased, nudging you playfully.

you rolled your eyes, laughing along with him. "hey, i wasn't that bad! besides, i bet i can beat you now," you challenged, a competitive glint in your eye.

riki smirked, accepting the challenge. "oh, it's on," he declared, leading the way to the game booth with a playful grin. as you both stepped up to the challenge, the friendly rivalry between you reignited, sparking laughter and camaraderie as you competed against each other just like old times.

next, the group dispersed into two teams, with you and riki finding yourselves on opposing sides. as the game began, the competitive spirit ignited once again, with each team determined to come out on top.

with laughter and friendly banter filling the air, the group watched eagerly, cheering on their respective teammates and teasing each other mercilessly at every missed shot or fumbled move. sunghoon's infectious laughter echoed through the park as he cheered you on, while jake couldn't resist poking fun at riki whenever he made a mistake.

later, the group found themselves deciding what to eat, so they headed to the mall, hoping to satisfy their hunger with a variety of options. However, their plans hit a snag as they found themselves once again getting lost, courtesy of Jungwon's questionable sense of direction.

"Jungwon, are you sure we're going the right way?" Sunghoon asked with a chuckle, glancing around at the unfamiliar surroundings.

Jungwon scratched his head sheepishly. "Uh, well, I thought so, but maybe not," he admitted, his expression sheepish.

Sunoo couldn't resist chiming in with a grin, "Looks like we're taking the scenic route again!"

Yuna laughed, shaking her head. "Maybe we should invest in a GPS for Jungwon," she joked.

next, they reached the mall, and as they waited for everyone to order at the diner, sunghoon and riki found themselves drawn to the claw machines and booths in the retro-designed diner. amidst the flashing lights and nostalgic ambiance, they shared a quiet, one-on-one conversation.

sunghoon leaned against the claw machine, his gaze thoughtful as he spoke. "hey, riki, i just wanted to say that there's no bad blood between us, you know?"

riki glanced up, surprised by sunghoon's sincerity. "yeah, i know. i appreciate that," he replied, a hint of gratitude in his voice.

sunghoon continued, his tone gentle. "i know things might be a bit awkward because of… well, you know," he gestured vaguely, referring to riki's feelings for yn.

riki nodded, understanding. "yeah, i get it. but i want you to know that i'm really happy for you and yn. you guys deserve each other."

sunghoon smiled, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. "thanks, riki. that means a lot," he said, grateful for riki's understanding.

as they continued to chat, the tension between them eased, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and mutual respect.

"hey, riki, i get it. it's not easy to just switch off those feelings," sunghoon said sympathetically, placing a reassuring hand on riki's shoulder. "but you've got to try to move forward. you know, there's this saying: 'the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.'"

riki chuckled weakly, appreciating sunghoon's attempt at lightening the mood. "yeah, i guess you're right. but what if i just can't seem to shake these feelings?"

sunghoon nodded understandingly. "it's tough, i know. but you've got to focus on what's in front of you. mina is a great girl, and she really cares about you. don't waste the chance to get to know her better and appreciate what you have with her."

riki sighed, knowing that sunghoon was right. "yeah, you're right. thanks, sunghoon. i needed to hear that," he admitted gratefully.

sunghoon gave him a supportive smile. "anytime, buddy. just remember, you're not alone in this. we're all here for you." with that, they shared a brief, understanding nod, knowing that even though the road ahead might be tough, they would face it together as friends.

as riki and sunghoon triumphantly emerge from the claw machine area, each clutching a plush toy in their hands, their faces light up with excitement. with a shared grin, they make their way back to the rest of the group, eager to show off their prizes.

"check it out, guys! look what we won!" sunghoon announces proudly, holding up his prize—a penguin with a big, friendly smile.

riki joins in, brandishing his own victory—a cute fluffy baby chick. "and look at this beauty! who's the claw machine champion now?"

jake chuckles, giving them both a playful pat on the back. "yeah, seriously, well done! maybe you should start your own claw machine championship league."

sunghoon beams with pride as he presents you with a cute penguin plush, his eyes sparkling with affection as he watches your delighted reaction.

"here you go, babe," he says softly, placing the plush in your hands. "a little something to remember this day by."

you can't help but smile back at him, touched by his thoughtfulness. "thank you, sunghoon," you reply, leaning in to press a gentle kiss on his cheek. "i love it."

meanwhile, riki playfully teases mina, pretending to keep a tight grip on the chick plush he won, much to her amusement. "hey, hands off, riki!" she laughs, attempting to wrestle the toy from his grasp.

riki grins mischievously, holding the plush just out of mina's reach. "sorry, babe, but this little guy is mine," he teases, feigning innocence as mina gives him an exaggerated pout.

with a playful roll of her eyes, mina gives riki a gentle shove. "fine, keep it then," she says, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "but you owe me one."

riki chuckles, relenting as he hands over the plush to mina. "of course, anything for you," he replies, leaning in to press a sweet kiss on her forehead.

as the group shares in the lighthearted moment, laughter filling the air, sunghoon wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. you lean into his embrace, feeling grateful for the love and laughter that surrounds you.

as they enjoy their meal, riki leans over to mina with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "hey, mina, what do you say we pretend to propose to each other so we can get free dessert?" he suggests, a playful smirk playing on his lips.

mina stifles a laugh, shaking her head at his antics. "as tempting as that sounds, i don't think i want to get proposed to at a random retro diner," she replies, a hint of amusement in her voice.

sunoo chimes in from across the table, his tone teasing. "yeah, i don't think that's quite the romantic setting you're looking for, mina," he quips, earning a chuckle from the rest of the group.

riki shrugs, still wearing a playful grin. "hey, it was worth a shot, right?" he says with a wink, before digging back into his meal. the group shares a laugh at his antics, enjoying the light-hearted moment as they continue to savor their time together.

sunghoon chuckles at riki's failed attempt, then a mischievous glint sparkles in his eyes as an idea forms. "hey, why don't we pretend it's yn's birthday? they'll definitely give us free dessert for that!"

yuna raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "but what if they ask for id? i doubt they'll believe you're turning twenty-one again," she teases, glancing at sunghoon with a playful glimmer in her eyes.

sunghoon laughs, waving off yuna's concern. "don't worry, we'll just tell them we left yn's id back at the beach house," he replies, confidence lacing his voice.

you furrow your brows in confusion as the conversation steers toward the topic of dessert. "what's with you guys and dessert?" you inquire, looking around at the group with a bemused expression.

jungwon grins, leaning back in his chair as he explains, "well, you see, dessert is the best part of any meal. and when it's free, well, it's even sweeter."

mina shrugs, letting out a laugh at your confused expression. "yeah, i mean, who doesn't love free dessert?" she chimes in, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

you can't help but chuckle at their enthusiasm, shaking your head in amusement. "fair enough," you concede, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "i guess i can't argue with that logic."

with everyone on board for the plan, you settle back in your seat, eagerly anticipating the sweet treat that awaits you at the end of the meal. after all, who could say no to free dessert?

as the waiter approaches their table, sunghoon leans in with a mischievous glint in his eye, flashing his most charming smile. "hey, is there any chance we could get some free dessert? it's my girlfriend's birthday today," he says, gesturing towards you with a playful wink.

the waiter's eyes light up with enthusiasm as he nods eagerly. "of course! happy birthday!" he exclaims, offering you a warm smile before dashing off to fetch the dessert.

as the waiter scurries away, the anticipation among the group grows palpable. sunghoon grins at you, excitement dancing in his eyes. "get ready for a sweet surprise, birthday girl," he whispers, his voice laced with excitement.

you can't help but laugh, feeling a mixture of amusement and nervous anticipation. "i can't believe you talked them into this," you reply, shaking your head in disbelief. "this is going to be hilarious."

across the table, yuna and mina exchange knowing glances, stifling giggles behind their hands. "i can't wait to see their faces when the entire diner starts singing," yuna whispers, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

as the minutes tick by, the anticipation mounts, and the group exchanges playful banter and speculation about what kind of dessert the waiter will bring out. finally, the waiter returns, carrying a decadent-looking dessert adorned with a flickering candle.

with a flourish, he sets the dessert down in front of you, offering another cheerful round of "happy birthday" as the entire diner erupts into applause.

-

on the way home, the group is abuzz with excitement, unable to contain their chatter about the day's silly antics. sunghoon leads the conversation, recounting each hilarious moment with animated gestures and infectious laughter.

"i still can't believe we convinced them it was your birthday," sunghoon chuckles, glancing at you with a playful grin. "that dessert was worth every bit of embarrassment."

yuna nods enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "and the look on everyone's faces when the whole diner started singing! priceless," she adds, shaking her head in fond remembrance.

mina joins in, her laughter echoing through the car. "i never knew free dessert could be so entertaining," she quips, casting a teasing glance at riki, who chuckles in agreement.

as the memories of the day's escapades continue to flow, the car fills with laughter and joy, each member of the group reliving their favorite moments and sharing in the camaraderie of the day. it's moments like these, filled with laughter and friendship, that make even the simplest of outings unforgettable.

-

a year later, the group gathers once again, this time to celebrate jake and sunghoon's college graduation. amidst the sea of graduation caps and gowns, the friends stand shoulder to shoulder, a testament to the bonds forged through years of shared laughter and unforgettable moments.

as they gather for a group photo, sunghoon pulls you close, his arm wrapped around your waist in a gesture of love and pride. "let's make sure to get a picture with the graduates," he whispers, his voice filled with excitement.

-

after a while you glance over at jake and sunghoon, who are beaming with pride as they pose for pictures with their families. "they look so happy," you murmur, your heart swelling with pride for your friends' achievements.

sunghoon's gaze softens as he looks at you and walks back to you, his eyes filled with love and admiration. "you'll be up there next year," he says, his voice brimming with confidence. "i can't wait to see you walk across that stage and receive your diploma."

you feel a rush of warmth at his words, grateful for his unwavering support and encouragement. "thank you," you whisper, leaning into his embrace.

as the celebrations continue, the group surrounds jake and sunghoon, showering them with congratulations and well-wishes. amidst the laughter and chatter, sunghoon's voice cuts through the noise, his words filled with hope and anticipation. "and when it's your turn next year, yn," he says, his voice ringing with pride, "i'll be right here, cheering you on every step of the way."

you meet his gaze, your heart swelling with love for the man by your side. with sunghoon's unwavering support and the love of your friends, you know that no challenge is too great, and that together, you can conquer anything that comes your way.

-

as the camera flashes, capturing the joyous moment with jake and sunghoon, riki sidles up beside you, a playful grin on his face. "can you believe we're next in line for this graduation gig?" he quips, nudging you gently.

you chuckle, enjoying the light-hearted banter with your friend. "i can't wait to see you in that cap and gown," you reply, a teasing glint in your eyes. "just don't trip on stage, okay?"

riki laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "hey, i make no promises," he retorts, playfully nudging you back. "but seriously, it's going to be our turn soon. let's make the most of our last year, yeah?"

you nod in agreement, a sense of excitement bubbling in your chest at the thought of the year ahead. "absolutely," you agree, a smile tugging at your lips. "but no wild parties the night before graduation, okay? we don't want any hungover mishaps on stage."

riki raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "no promises," he says with a smirk, earning a playful shove from you.

as the day draws to a close and the sun begins to dip below the horizon, you find yourself reflecting on the bond you share with riki. through the twists and turns of college life, you've stood by each other's side, weathering storms and celebrating victories together.

sure, there may have been moments of uncertainty and confusion, but at the end of the day, your friendship with riki remains steadfast and true. he's more than just a friend; he's your confidant, your partner in crime, and your platonic soulmate.

as you look ahead to the future, you know that no matter where life takes you, riki will always be there, ready to lend a listening ear, share a laugh, or offer a shoulder to lean on. and as you embrace the warmth of his friendship, you can't help but feel grateful for the countless memories you've shared and the ones yet to come.

with riki by your side, the journey ahead may be filled with twists and turns, but one thing is for certain: as long as you have each other, you'll always find your way.

#enhypen imagines #enhypen #enhypen au #engene #enha #enhypen x reader #jake #sunghoon #ni ki #riki #niki x reader #nishimura riki #riki x reader #riki fluff #riki nishimura #riki enhypen #enhypen niki #sunghoon au #heeseung #enhypen sunghoon #park sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sim jaeyun #jungwon #yang jungwon

[save-the-villainous-cat]

may I request a really really really smart villain. but somehow the hero manages to outsmart them, and even though villain is completely dumbfounded, they find it incredibly hot???

gl, if you wish, but im fine with anything !!

“You’re scared,” the villain whispered. “I know what that feels like. I know what it can do to a person.”

Their fingertips traced the hero’s clavicle gently, as if they attempted to calm a startled deer by stoking it.

“It’s not a pleasant emotion. It certainly isn’t one anyone should be used to. So I’m curious, do you need my help?” the villain said. Their eyes scanned the hero curiously. Almost as if they could absorb everything about them just by looking at them.

Something about the hero seemed to pull them in, something seemed to fascinate them on a grand scale and the hero couldn’t tell if they loved the challenge or the attention.

“Would you mind?” the hero asked. They nodded towards the villain’s fingers on their body and clearly, the villain received their message. They pulled away and smiled. Curiosity seemed to be their big weakness.

“I apologise, of course. I’m fond of pretty things.”

“As every crow is.”

“That’s a compliment.” The hero didn’t answer. They knew the villain was toying with them; they were fully aware of their sweet words and their kind smile.

The villain wasn’t easy to understand and that was a big problem in this whole mess. Incompetent people proposed a threat to the city because of their lack of intelligence. They weren’t easy to understand, they were unpredictable.

Usually, the hero could argue with smart people, could get into their minds and understand their motives but the villain was a complete minefield. Their unpredictability came from several unrelated plans that intertwined and altogether made up a whole picture.

They were ten steps ahead. Always.

Suddenly, a missing professor, a burning bakery, a sick child and a stolen book were parts of a chain that would make sense to the hero much, much later. Ordinary things could play huge parts in these reaction chains, something they liked to call “controlled butterfly effect”. It made the hero think of all the details, all the little crimes in the city. It made them overanalyse every little conversation they had with the villain.

Was the villain giving them clues?

Was there a way to decipher these riddles?

How could anyone be at ten different places at the same time?

How was it possible to get information you’d have to torture out of people without actually talking to anyone at all?

“I’ll have to change my address for the third time this month,” the hero said. “You should apologise for that as well.”

“It’s not my fault you make it so easy for me.” The villain looked around the hero’s living room and in some weird and strange way, the hero felt superior to them, now that everything was done. It would’ve been foolish to say they were relieved. In fact, the villain was right. They were terrified. “New choice of plants, I see. You like orchids?”

“Why exactly are you here?” the hero asked. They assumed the villain knew about yesterday. They also assumed the villain was here to talk about that. “So you can make fun of me? Humiliate me in my own home?”

“Without an audience? Please, I thought you knew me.” The villain’s eyes found the hero’s again after what they deemed to be enough observation.

“You like it more intimate. You like it when it’s just us.” Now, the villain looked intrigued.

“Touché,” they said, almost as if the hero had defeated them with a single word. The hero wished it had been that easy.

“Again. Why are you here?” The hero crossed their arms in front of their chest. It was getting quite chilly in just a shirt and underwear.

In response, the villain took in a deep breath and sat down on the hero’s couch. They lounged.

“When Hannibal crossed the Alps, do you think he was scared? I mean, all that responsibility on his shoulders? It was dangerous, he could’ve lost his entire army.”

“Is this supposed to be some metaphor for me being Hannibal and you being…what? The Roman Republic?” the hero asked. Sometimes, it was laughable where the villain’s mind went. It was hard enough to keep up with them already but the amount of knowledge the hero acquired from talking to them alone was insane.

It was the type of learning experience that required failing repeatedly to get to the answer. The hero didn’t enjoy it.

But the villain only chuckled.

“I was trying to say that being determined and scared can coexist. You did something that demands great courage.” They tilted their head. “And yet, it is a very scary thing.”

With slow steps, the hero approached them until they were close enough. They sat down on the villain’s lap. Unsurprisingly, their nemesis didn’t protest.

They weren’t proud of what had happened, they weren’t proud of what they’d done.

“How can a person obtain information no one dares to whisper?” the hero asked. “How can that person receive it within seconds?”

“You tell me,” the villain said. An invitation. It would’ve been illogical to decline.

“You had two helpers. Someone who can teleport. Someone who can turn invisible. I don’t know how you convinced them but they were heroes once.”

The villain nodded.

“The Romans had to learn the hard way how important spies are. They learnt it from the Carthaginian. Like I learnt from you years ago,” the villain said. It was difficult to imagine that all this was the hero’s fault. “Now, tell me what you did when you found out.”

The hero was quiet until the villain’s palm brushed their thigh softly. The villain seemed unfittingly euphoric.

“I knew they wouldn’t be easy to keep in a cell.”

“So?”

“So I killed them.” The villain nodded.

“You killed them,” the villain agreed. “Did you know crows wait for other predators to tear open their prey?”

The hero waited. The villain wasn’t angry. They were fascinated. It hadn’t even occurred to the hero that this was the solution up until yesterday.

And still, even though this was a major success when it came to stopping the villain, it wasn’t satisfactory. Killing two of their own people hadn’t been pretty.

“Did you know curiosity killed the cat?” the hero asked back. Behind their back, they clenched their fist to stop their hand from shaking.

Within seconds, several red laser dots pointed at the villain. With the hero on their lap, pressing them into the couch, there wasn’t anywhere to go. The sharpshooters wouldn’t let the villain move a muscle.

And behind the shocked expression, the hero saw something they weren’t sure if they loathed or liked: a certain admiration for only them.

#villain it’s a trap u stupid ahh #I am behind you I always find you I am the tiger #somehow completely managed to ignore the dumbfounded part I AM SO SORRY #I’m not even close to being able to write smart characters but I hope this is ok 👹 #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

I have an idea I would love to request but I wanted to check with you first! I couldn't help but think Astarion would be so infuriated & confused by me. Like when he held a knife at their throat, they're willing to give him a chance. Their reason is he has no real reason to trust them since he doesn't know them at all so they would show to him that they can be trusted. Then he's more confused when the first time he tries to drink blood from them, reader is shocked then immediately asks questions if it hurts, do they need to be healed, how should their position be so it's easier for him to drink, what would happen after that, etc. Even after he drank & they were feeling the effects, they asked if he still needed more. He answered them no confusedly before they were satisfied with his answer then passed out. He is both relieved and baffled at what just happened. What do you think of this? Please tell me if you're not interested! Thanks!

Local Vampire Spawn confused by care and offers of friendship, more at eleven.

~

Astarion, surprisingly, had gotten pretty lucky when it came to his newfound traveling companions. Two master swordsmen, a barbarian tiefling menace, and a Shar priestess were about the best one could ask for when it came to having protection. He could probably do without the do-gooder druid and walking time bomb of a wizard, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

And then there was you. The unofficial leader of the merry band of weirdos. Hyper competent, kind, and a powerful, and admittingly gorgeous, warrior. You would be perfection if you weren't so... frustrating.

Simply put, Astarion thought you were an idiot. A well-meaning, naive idiot, but a moron nonetheless.

What other explanation was there for your delusional trust in him? Your introduction had involved him pressing a damned blade to your throat, with every intent to kill you if you decided to struggle. Maybe even if you hadnt, if you had been alone. The correct response to a first meeting of that caliber would be to completely disregard him. Or kill him, for someone who had any conception of self-preservation.

But no, instead you gave him the offer to come with you, like that wasn't an absolutely insane thing to do. You had been so understanding, insisting that his penance for trickery and threats was justified. That you would be sure to earn his trust, like that was something worth obtaining.

At first, Astarion tried not to look too deeply into it. You were all going through hell, it made sense to travel in a pack, to find solidarity in others while trapped in a land full of endless horrors. It would explain why you kept the violate gith and the walking bomb around, despite their faults. There was also that foolish air of empathetic care about you at all times that helped explain things, one that extended far past Astarion himself. Though it did have limits. Astarion had borne witness to how unforgiving you could be when someone manipulated your trust. Though he completely agreed that the Hag known as Auntie Ethel fully deserved a slow, painful death, he hadn't been prepared for just how... literal you would take it.

So while you weren't completely without common sense, you still lacked a good deal of it. Like the fact that letting a vampire spawn drink your blood at night wasn't included in those same limits.

He hadn't even meant to open that particular door of feeding on you. It was just... so terribly hard to resist. You smelled divine, the scent of your blood always lingering beneath the surface of your skin. Cloying and decadent, the slightest whiff nearly enough to make his mouth water. He had been trying so damn hard to hide his true nature, feeding on whatever he could find in the dead of night. But none of it felt like enough. It should have been, he had more access to sustenance in the forest than he ever had under Cazedor's thumb. And wild boar were certainly better than sewer rats at the least.

But it wasn't enough to tame his growing desire for your taste. It had just happened. One moment he was simply on his own bedroll, staring up at the stars. And in the next the hunger was overtaking him. He was crawling over you before his mind could even catch up to his actions, his mouth already widening.

And then you woke-up, startled enough to knock Astarion out of his all-consuming thirst. You scrambled to your feet, staring at him with wide eyes as he struggled through an explanation. He had every expecation that this was it. This as the moment you would toss him to the side, realizing once and for all that he wasn't worth the danger.

But instead you just nodded along, the first question out of your mouth when he finished a simple, "Will it hurt?"

Astarion blinked at you, confused at you lack of reaction. He had admitted to being a literal monster for gods' sake. And that's what you were most curious about?

"Yes," Astarion said slowly, watching your face for every microexpression, "It will hurt, briefly. Then the pain fades into something a bit more... tolerable."

You nodded, asking another question, "Would I need healing after? Or would a bandage be enough? I would hate to wake Shawdowheart so late."

That was-he-were you actually considering this?

Astarion shook his head, hope and excitement starting to bubble to the surface, "No, a bandage should be fine. You might want her to top you off with something in the morning, but it won't be anything that can't wait."

"Okay," You said, nodding to yourself once before meeting his eyes with a determined gaze, "In that case, should I lay down? Or would standing be better?"

Astarion could scarcely believe your willingness. Part of him wanted to ask if you were sure that you wanted to do this, but his sheer lust for the taste of your blood shut that part down. Instead Astarion was reaching for your hand, gently tugging you down to lay back on your bedroll.

"This will be perfect," He murmured as he crawled back over you, his fangs protruding on their own accord, "Now stay still darling, we don't want to tear anything, do we?"

Astarion could just make out a lovely flush grace your cheeks at the pet name, barely visible by the campfire. It was a good look on you, that mixture of embarrassment and nerves, one that he wouldn't mind seeing again. But for now he had other appetites to attend to.

Astarion bit down, nearly moaning when the divine taste hit his tongue. Somehow it managed to taste even better than it smelled, warm ambrosia sliding down his throat, filling him with pure energy. It was an exhilarating experience, so much better than anything he'd ever tasted before. It was nearly too good, decadent enough for him to feel greedy.

He could feel you shaking under him, letting out the occasional whimper and whine. He was vaguely aware that this had been going on for too long, that he was taking too much. But it was so damn hard to resist.

It wasn't until you were gently pushing at him, whimpering, "I-I think that's enough."

There was the slightest touch of fear in your voice, the only thing that worked to pierce through his bloodthirsty haze. Astarion rolled off of you, licking his lips with a happy sigh. That was... better than he could ever have imagined.

He hopped up to his feet, sticking a hand out to help you do the same. You seemed woozy and unsteady as you stood, proving his suspicion that he had taken too much. It made the smallest lick of guilt creep up his spine. But it's not like you were ever going to let him do it again, he might as well indulge-

"Are you sure that was enough?" You asked, completely derailing his train of thought, "Will you be okay with just that? Or should we try again in a few hours?"

Were you actually insane?

"No my friend. I think I'll be fine," Astarion said carefully, "Another night perhaps. But, uh, are you okay?"

You shrugged, already sinking back down to your knees, snuggling back into your bedroll like nothing was out of the ordinary, "I'm sure I will be. Just a little tired now is all. Good night."

And then you were closing your eyes, out like a light while Astarion stood above you. Confused beyond belief. That was... how were you still alive? If this was the kind of thing you were willing to do for a near stranger, with nearly 0 reservations?

It was insane, idiotic, stupid. And now you just fell asleep right in front of the same man who cannibalized your blood? What the fuck was that? How was one supposed to respond to that? Astarion was grateful yes, beyond so. He went on to have a very successful hunt, even if his catches tasted worse than ever, they still left him feeling satisfied and capable. But he was plagued with thoughts of you the entire time. Thoughts that followed him through to the morning and the days to come.

You were so damn lucky that he was the spawn that was kidnapped. Half of his brethren would have already used your trust to bleed you dry before fleeing into the night. Gods knows what would have happened to you if it was Cazador who was taken in his place. That thought alone was enough to make shiver, clouding his brain with a massive discomfort at what someone like that would do with someone as... kind as you.

Astarion would never allow it. As stupid as you were, it didn't mean you deserved to be used. Well... by anyone besides himself of course. He was starting to think that he could use all of this blind trust to his advantage. Get you attached to him, force himself as a priority in your life that was worth protecting. But for that to happen you would have to stay alive. And that would mean someone would have to protect you from your infuriating self.

Astarion supposed that would just have to be his job. What it meant that the idea of doing such didn't fill him with resentment? He wasn't sure, and he sure as hells wasn't going to try and find out.

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #asks #you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands #basically pre-relatioship #but the feelings are there

[luveline]

For the blurbs, could you do something fluffy and sweet with Sirius? Maybe something involving the chillier weather now? I’m obsessed with the way you write him <3

ty for requesting lovely <3

"Sweetheart," Sirius says. It doesn't surprise you that he's talking to Remus rather than you, handing over a cup of hot chocolate from his tray. "Darling," he continues, passing a second to Marlene. "Gorgeous," —and finally your boyfriend addresses you— "watch the sides, my lovely, it's hot." 

You'd guessed it would be, but his warning warms your heart nonetheless. "Thank you," you say, imbuing your word with as much softness as they allow. 

Sirius isn't easily flustered but you've been practising. He sits down beside you with his own hot chocolate and takes a quick sip, his cheeks tinged a rosy hue. Call it revenge, teasing, mostly affection, it's nice to get him back. He hasn't noticed what you're doing yet, but it won't be long. You're laying it on thick. 

You've gathered outside to cheer James on. It's one of the last rugby games of the season, and he plays exceptionally well, a blur of lean muscle and ink-black curls where he stretches between halves. 

"He's bulking up, isn't he?" Marlene asks, impressed. 

"He's fucking ridiculous," Remus says. "I'm sick of making him fried eggs. That's all I do. Remus, will you make me an egg, please? No one makes them like you do, I'll love you forever." He groans. "Between that and his grass stains, I'm genuinely his husband." 

"You're a handsome couple," Sirius says. 

You lean into his side gently. "Not as handsome as us," you murmur. You give him a wide-eyed, innocent look, your smile small but effective. 

His heart visibly melts. "No one's as handsome as us," he says, nudging you with his elbow. "Are you warm enough?" 

"My nose is cold." 

He brings his hand up to feel for himself with the back of a knuckle, wincing at what he finds. "You're like ice," he laments, pulling the scarf from around his neck. 

"Oh, Siri–" He wraps it around you. "Don't." 

He grins at you as he covers the bottom half of your face with his scarf, soft wool kissing your nose. Your breath warms your nose. "How will I drink my hot chocolate?" you ask. 

"I'll pull the scarf down, you can take a quick sip, and then I'll pull it back up," he suggests. "Or I'll drink it for you." 

You drop your face into his shoulder. It's admittedly extremely cold out for late October, almost a January chill, but you try not to complain. After all, James is running about in his uniform looking chipper. Someone throws him a ball and he jumps to catch it like a show off. 

"That's so unnecessary," Sirius says, his hair tickling your forehead as he leans his head atop yours. 

"He's amazing, surviving the cold weather like this." You find Sirius' hand tucked in his pocket and cover it with yours, your palm to the back of his, rubbing a tender little line into his thumb. 

"Are you okay?" he asks softly. 

"Why wouldn't I be okay, sweetheart?" 

Sirius coughs. "No reason. Still cold?" 

"A little. Can you warm me up, please?" 

You've mastered the art of softness at this point, just a pinch of pathetic. It actually, secretly, feels very nice to speak to him like this, and to ask for a soft touch in return, knowing he'll give it to you. He puts his hot chocolate on the bench and wraps you up, pulling you into his side. He has ample room to run some warmth into your arm, the heat of the friction slowly seeping through your sleeves. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks, hushed, for your ears alone. "We can go if it's too cold, James will understand."

You feel bad for messing with him now, but part of you admits that it wasn't messing at all. "Just love you, Sirius. I don't need to go anywhere." 

"Oh. Alright." He sounds a tad breathless. "I love you, too." 

"I know. I'm very, very lucky." 

He pinches your side for that one. "Stop it." 

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius x reader fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #marauders era #marauders #sirius black drabble #sirius black scenario #sirius black oneshot #the marauders #sirius orion black

[grind-pantera]

for the love of all that is HOLY part two to that caesar fic maybe a continuation where you left off. Reader cleaning his body? *Wiggles eyebrows suggestively*

I said I wasn't posting today well guess who Lied LOL. We love one stoic hot ape here and his name is CAESAR,, Reblogs and likes always appreciated, enjoy reading.

Title: Side By Side. Fandom: Planet of the Apes. Pairing: Caesar x Human! Reader. Rating: T. ( Teeny tiny bit of aggression. ) Words: 2.1K+ Summary: ** Part One: War Paint** Putting the paint on was the easy part of your job.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻

Your hands were shaking. You didn't have an excuse this time like before. You weren’t cold, even Caesar had to have noticed that you were in fact sweating, a small fire in front of you being more than enough to pound you into a lucid sense of heat. Tucking your long sleeves up on your biceps to keep them out of the way, you dipped a cloth into water gathered from the river nearby. Notice, he surely did. He didn't need to see, he could simply smell it. Almost every move you made in front of him caused a sweet fragrance to waft his way. It was so very familiar to Caesar, it almost felt like he’d drown in it. Nervous? He tilted his head minutely. Yes, Caesar had seen you nervous and he knew how it looked on your face. Reserved? Yes, Caesar repeated and watched as you wrangled the old cloth, enjoying the sound of the droplets falling back into the bigger pitcher of water.

Like rain against a roof, it reminded the Ape King of a meager memory and he found himself sliding his eyes shut. He could recall many times in San Fransisco… Many rainy nights where he sat in the home he proudly shared with Will, Caroline and Charles… Listening to the rain, looking out the window, wondering what it would feel like on his fur, what it would feel like cupped in his hand. Little did Caesar know in those moments of self-reflections, that many years later, they would be gone from him and all he was left with was the sensation now of water dripping from his fur onto the floor below, giving the impression that it was bridging the gap between himself and you. Taking advantage of his closed eyes, you made your move and swiped the cloth against the bridge of his brows and down the right side of his face. You were more comfortable working around his expressions if his eyes were not dragging you down into a room full of thoughts that were only about Caesar.

The white paint smeared against his wrinkled skin, giving a small twitch as you dragged the cloth across the space next to his muzzle. He seemed to have aged overnight from years upon years of unbridled stress and loss. Your heart churned uncomfortably at that, at how rugged he looked, at how he held himself as opposed to earlier. He seemed so tired now, so willing to accept and roll over. All you wanted to do was throw the cloth over your shoulder and embrace his face in both your hands. Take in each pleasure of feeling how it traced under your fingers, your bare fingers. Caesar tried to keep it light and positive when you had talked about loss before, but it was so apparent that it had a detrimental effect on him despite his ability to put on a mask for his Colony, for the greater good of the Apes. Where there was loss, he had explained in a rather rudimentary way, typical of Caesar when he knew what he wanted to express but lacked the dictionary knowledge of how to put it in a way that you would understand. With loss, there was much to be gained was how he put it. Said like a true leader, you dropped the conversation after that and it was never brought up again.

That’s how it worked with the Ape King. You questioned, he answered and you left it alone; Caesar was not a creature to come back to dwindling thoughts when he was so adversely confident in his abilities, practices and words. That’s what made him so enticing, magnetic by force and you fell right into the sphere of his gravity. Shaking that thought out of your head, you drew your bottom lip to urge yourself to focus on the task at hand and lightly placed the cloth against his cheek idly. You were looking at him now; the furrow of his brow, his mouth slightly agape as if in anticipation of your next movements, eyes shut, not squeezing but flutteringly that if he wanted to look right back at you, it wouldn’t take much effort on his part. A thin set of eyelashes trickled with action as you came upwards and swept the paint from under his eyes. Droplets fell onto his cheeks, giving the faux nature of tears. It was symbolic, in some sick and twisted way and your eyes trailed the drop down, down… It got lost in the fur of his chin.

Oblivious to your own nature now as you were so transfixed on the Chimp in front of you, your mouth had fallen open, bottom teeth now evident in Caesar’s eyes as he finally opened them in question of what you were doing, what was taking so long. Lake was fast to clean, you were slow, biding your time for an unknown reason, at least to Caesar. Green irises burned a hole in you, through your skull and it felt like he was able to read your thoughts. It felt like your skin was crawling, like he was inside of you and puppeteering as you unwaveringly looked right back at him.

Big mistake.

“Uh---” You hummed under your breath, the huff hitting his face due to the close proximity before you turned your body away from him, knees now pointing to an empty corner of Caesar's private sanctuary instead of directly at the King. A shot of what felt like electricity lingered in your entire self, radiating uncomfortable from your fingertips, your thighs, your head and oddly enough, your toes even felt a bit funny. “T-…” Clearing your throat as you dipped the cloth back in to get more dampened, you were screaming to keep your heart from jumping out of your chest. There was absolutely no way that he didn't know that, telling you often that he was able to get a good view of your internal self from his ability to smell, his ability to hear your heartbeat.

“The paint came off a little bit.” A mindless topic of conversation, and you weren’t sure if Caesar would comply. He wasn’t big into small talk and really only pleasured you with it when he felt it served a purpose.

He hummed in response, knowing you had to figure that words weren’t necessarily worth any other acknowledgement. It was such a deep sound coming from his chest, Caesar’s eyeline suddenly flushed with your chest as you stood. “It…” He nodded silently as you advised him just as quietly that you needed him to shift. With intentful action, Caesar’s jaw clenched as he let his head tilt backwards mildly, only accentuated when you had pressed an urging finger under his chin to aid. “Rained…” He bargained with you, “Thought it would.” That was said with what could only be described as smugness.

You paused in front of him as his words spilled, giving you the wanted attention that was leaking out of all of your pores. The way his voice came out in the position he found himself in was rougher than usual, vocal cords straining against his jugular. Pleadingly, you looked at said body part and felt a flush of something familiar now lingering in your tailbone. You could just reach up and grab it, though you knew Caesar would grab yours in return, probably ripping the vein right out of your neck. You began applying a bit more pressure to the red that trailed between his brows and down his nose the only part of his face paint that lingered. The white was easily gone, already faded deeply from being exposed to the weather. He was tentative in nature, staring at the ceiling before his eyes were flooded again, this time with your face as you moved above him to look, observing he assumed, where you needed to apply more pressure to clean the now crusting paint off his perpetually grouchy appearance.

Statically, he grasped your wrist when the realization came to light that with his face clean, all that was left was his body. He had enough with the paint placement on his chest hours ago,thankful to get that out of his mind for the hunting trip he went on with his closest council. That hard beating of his heart, that vile feeling in the very pit of his stomach at the idea of you just cleaning him… No no, Caesar’s eyes narrowed in thought. Grooming him made him uneasy with conflicted desires. Just mere seconds away from the cloth touching his chest, from letting you draw it along the lines you had placed on him, erasing them from his chest and following suit downwards… Down, down… Caesar's teeth clattered together in his mouth, the sound so loud in his ears. So close to the burdens, introspective thoughts and animalistic urges he had about this entire situation. He wouldn’t be able to control himself if he allowed you to continue; allowed your hands anywhere near him anymore. If he just… let you… You twitch your wrist in his grasp. Ultimately now, you were one bad flick of the hand away from Caesar absolutely crushing your radius and ulna. He wouldn’t; but the gravitas of the thought rocketed a primal fear in your mind.

You stared at the mere contact of his hand entirely encasing your wrist, usually not a point of contention. Caesar had grasped at you in the past when you were flurrying off the rails just to keep you momentarily grounded enough, never enough to make intimate contact but enough to draw your senses back in. Most often, it happened when you were talking about something in a passionate fashion. Your mouth parted in wonderment before trailing your gaze up his forearm, not doubting that if you chose to reach out and touch, it would ripple with taunt muscles. His bicep, the sheer size was enough to cause a lump to form in your throat. The width alone left enough to your imagination, the knowledge that he could very easily pick things up, heavier than his body weight, with just one arm. The glow of the fire in front of you illuminated his features further, giving play to shadows along the bridge of his nose, flirting and teasing at the line of fur that started right above his brows. He was undoubtedly handsome, you tried to come up with an excuse for your thoughts but nothing came to fruition.

There had to be a question lingering on his lips. They were pursed in such a position that it appeared he was going to say something. A hot flash hit the back of your throat as you wistfully admired him from such a juxtaposed position, knowing factually that you had to have looked so stupidly star-struck.

What was he thinking? You slid only an inch or two closer, body almost leaving the rock you were sitting on, knees swerving to give him your utmost attention. What was he…? Caesar stared right at you, gaze refusing to leave your own even if you chose to break the bond then and there. Whatever grasp you had on the cloth you were using to clean faltered and it fell flat onto the ground in front of you with a soft ‘sploosh’ sound. What was he thinking? Linearly, you looked into his eyes and found yourself wrapped in how they looked. Eclipsed irises coupled with dilated pupils, most likely due to the fire and dim lighting that encased your bodies, at least, that’s what you were telling your racing mind. Delicately, the flames flickered against your face… Too delicately and Caesar felt something prickly inside of his mind as he wanted to take that delicate nature and crush it between his hands, giving him pure dominance over the most subtle and entangling form of submission.

Gasping as his clutch on your ceased, your other hand rose instinctually and held your wrist tenderly. You were going to bruise there. He was almost aggressive in nature, giving the appearance of shaking you off of him like a bug. “You… Don’t… need to finish.”

You blinked, figuring out when he beckoned you after his arrival that he was only allowing you to clean him due to the human element of it. You knew he didn't care if it came off or how it came off; the opportunity for you to clean him was just another in the long list of Caesar accommodations he made for you. You wanted to ask why. Why you didn't need to finish, why he wouldn’t let you but all he muttered to you as his back was suddenly in your line of vision was, “Paint will… come off with rain.”

Opening your mouth to protest, you found yourself deflected as Caesar rose, all so powerful, his stance telling you that he was more than capable of taking care of himself here. His eyes, those eyes that had been so intently lingering in yours, were now hardened and so very distant. “You… should... go.”

#caesar #caesar planet of the apes #pota #planet of the apes #caesar x reader #caesar x human reader #kingdom of the planet of the apes #kotpota #fanfiction #fanfic #emmy writes