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biteofcherry · 9 months

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Shiny Trinket

Heart of Ruby Masterlist

part of Ruby Garden series

Dom!Ari Levinson x submissive female reader

summary: Don't ever think that your Dom doesn't take your opinions into consideration. Ari's about to thoroughly review your small suggestion about the Ruby Garden club's interior.

warnings: Dom/sub dynamics; bdsm; Dom!Ari Levinson; power imbalance; safe, sane and consensual; established relationship; mild bondage; use of sex toys; explicit s**ual content; very light objectification;

word count: 3.6k

In response to the pleading I wrote something with Dom!Ari to start the weekend. So grab a drink, don't drink it while reading, but hydrate afterwards as aftercare is important even for readers 😂

Head resting on Ari's shoulder, you mindlessly play with the button of his partly-open shirt as your gaze trails across the space. Soft timbre of Ari's voice as your Dom talks to another member is soothing enough that you let your thoughts simply wander.

Dark tones on the walls, which at first sight may look like simple black paint, are in fact a velvety wallpaper encrusted with decorative swirls. BDSM equipment in red leather and old-wood styled designs is mixed with black, French-style furniture; like the curved dresser which drawers are filled with small fun implements, from nipple clamps to gags.

Ornamental iron hanging from the ceilings in various spots around the club serves as rafters to which poor bottoms can be cuffed. The chandeliers, most in red or reddish-gold, a decorative echo of old French districts.

No wonder Ari feels here so at ease. Not only because he owns the place, but because he made it a much kinkier, lush reflection of the New Orleans, which used to be his home.

You like the quite luxurious feel of the Ruby Garden, with the enticing shades of black and titular red, wood and upholstery that sometimes make you fantasize about past century brothels or private clubs where kink started to bloom amongst bohemian passions.

But there's something missing. At least according to your eye.

"It could use some sparkles," you mutter under your breath, not fully aware you said it out loud.

Ari's legs beneath you jerk up slightly, nudging you as he tilts his head and glances at you.

"Hmm? What were you saying, mon Chérie?" He asks.

Ari never loses his focus on you, even if he's engaged in a conversation with someone else, his instincts are always zeroed in on you.

It's endearing, but sometimes also scary. Especially in moments when you'd rather not have your Dom sense you're about to get into trouble.

"Nothing important," you shrug. "Just that something shiny could be added to the club's interior."

"What?" Ari arches a single brow, now fully looking at you.

"Hey, I find the club very chic and stylish," you playfully tug on the collar of Ari's shirt, "but even with the addition of red it's still mostly masculine. A few shiny trinkets here or there could level it up."

Okay, so maybe you like sparkling things a bit.

Maybe a lot.

Maybe the vanity at your place is stacked with four jewelry boxes that beside your usually worn jewelry contain lots of broken strings of colorful beads, which you didn't have a heart to throw away because they were so pretty and shiny.

"Shiny decorations?" At first Ari looks at you as if you lost your mind, but his eyes slowly darken as he deliberates on something.

You tilt yourself back warily, as much as Ari's heavy arm securing your back allows. You don't trust that look on his face, when his features harden and evil kind of mischief ignites in his blue eyes.

When he gives you that look, it usually means you're about to suffer his wicked ways.

"I think I have to seriously consider such a proposition." Ari hums, tracing his fingertips down your arm.

He gently takes your fingers in his and lifts your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles like a gentleman. Reminding you of the movie vampires you once compared him to, saying he had that southern charm blinding his victim into compliance so that he could rip her apart and leave her body in the bayou.

Ari had laughed then; rich and genuine amusement that carried through his apartment and made your heart flutter in happiness.

Then he'd tied you to a reupholstered Bergere chair and wrecked you to a point that you prayed for being dumped dead in the bayou.

So now that he's dropping into his charming deception again, your heart jumps in reasonable fear. And your pussy clenches.

"Stand up for me, Chérie." He helps you up on your feet, moving along with you, until he's towering over you.

"Remove your clothing, please." Though he's polite, you know it wasn't a request, but an order.

One you don't have much trouble complying, despite there always being that first wave of embarrassment when you undressed fully in the club, since there were always curious eyes around you.

"Wrists, please."

It's an instinct, to place your hand in Ari's grip without hesitation. Even if you're wary of his creative type of evil, you trust him deeply.

Ari's leather cuffs are already in place, always put on before you enter the club floor. Now he links them together, binding your hands. Then he lifts your arms above your head.

Your eyes follow the line of Ari's arms as he stretches them - one hand holding your bound wrists, while the other reaches for a chain hanging from the rafters above.

Uh-oh.

He chains you in place, pulling you up 'till you're balancing on the balls of your feet.

Ari tenderly runs his fingertips along your arms and down your sides, reminding you of his presence and care, despite having just thrown you off balance.

"A second, if you please." He smiles at you, but it's not really reassuring. Not at the moment when you see the wicked hunger gleaming in his eyes.

Ari sways you gently, chuckling when you squeak as your feet slide across the floor.

He moves past you, walking a few steps away. You can hear amused huffs coming from the few people who are around, including the Master with whom Ari was speaking before.

You try focusing on the sounds of what your Dom may be preparing, but the mixture of the club's noises drowns out the quiet slide of a drawer being pulled open.

Ari doesn't take long, but enough for you to start stewing in images running wild.

There's always an element of surprise (to not say shock) when being with Ari. No matter how many details you talk over before starting some scenes, your Master always twists it up and makes your head spin.

He stands in front of you again, steadying your body with a hand on your hip. He lets his gaze roam over you; slowly, so that you feel the burning attention rousing each part of your body.

"I'm always open to suggestions," he says, squeezing your flesh, "so I'll happily consider the option of adding more sparkling elements to the interior."

"But I'd rather keep with the color scheme, okay?" He asks you, as if he was really talking about simple interior design.

You know he's not. You can practically see the cogs in his devious mind twirling rapidly, creating a plan of your demise to the tune of his evil laugh.

You swallow nervously, nodding your head hesitantly.

Then Ari takes something out of his pocket and your eyes widen.

The chain that dangles on his finger isn't long. It has three red, crystal hearts placed evenly across it. And a pair of biting as fuck nipple clamps - each on one end.

"Oh no, no, no, no!" You shake your head, scrambling away as far as your chain allows, which isn't far.

Ari sighs.

He takes one step to the side. Then lands a slap on your ass so solid, that the crack of it echoes through the club and the painful sting makes you jump forward with a shriek.

Rough fingers squeeze your chin harshly when Ari faces you again. his eyes hold a reprimand that's a hair away from punishment.

"Nipple clamps are not on your hard limits list." He reminds you. "Or has that changed?"

"N-no, Sir," you want to cast your eyes down, but with the way Ari's holding your chin you're forced to withstand the eye contact.

"Do you perhaps need to safeword?"

Though his voice is a low graze of displeasure, you know it's at your antics, because Ari is always - absolutely always - serious about consent and safewords.

"No, Sir," you don't hesitate in your answer, even though you know it's sealing your fate.

"Are you in the yellow range? Do we need to pause and talk?"

He would. Immediately. If you hinted at actual discomfort beyond what you could take for your Master.

But you were nowhere near that stage. You were simply fussy and maybe the tiniest bit bratty, which meant you were getting yourself in even more trouble.

"No, Sir," you grumble in defeat.

"Ah, so you're being whiny just for the sake of it?" Ari releases your chin, but his fingers curl instead around the back of your neck as he steps so close to you that his clothes graze your naked skin.

"I don't like nipple clamps!" You blurt out, unable to stop the petulance from spilling.

"Tough." Ari shrugs. "Because I like putting them on you."

"I like how you squeak when I attach them," he murmurs, running his fingertips under the swell of your breasts. "How you pant as you breathe through the pain for me."

"I love how wet you get from them," he pinches your nipples, at the same time capturing your lips in a kiss.

Your yip melts on Ari's tongue, dispersing into a moan the longer he holds your nipples between his fingers.

You'd tell him it's not the clamps themselves that do it to you, but the fact Ari makes you suffer them. Also because his voice, warm and raspy, is like prelude to sex itself and you would get wet and needy from his talk alone.

But any coherent thought leaves your brain when Ari's mouth descends down your neck and onto your breasts. He cups each in his big hands, squeezing. Then his mouth is on one of your nipples, sucking and tormenting it into a stiff point.

He lavishes the other tit with the same voracious attention, tugging on the stiffened peak with his teeth, before releasing it.

Straightening up, Ari holds your gaze as he rubs your poor, tortured nipples with his fingers, wiping away excess of his own saliva, so that the clamps would hold on better.

And then he's attaching the first one; impish glee lighting up his eyes at your hiss.

By the time he secures the other clamp, adjusting the tightness, you're trying to steady your ragged breath and not close your thighs, because your folds are getting puffy and wet.

"See? Shiny." Ari mocks you, flicking one of the crystal hearts hanging from the thin chain attaching both clamps.

The impact, however minimal, tugs on your nipples, sending another zap straight to your core.

"But I think, if we're going for a proper shiny ornament to decorate my club-" Ari's mouth curves in a smirk as he reaches into his pocket once again- "it needs to be opulent."

He lifts his hand up and the first thing that you see is a red crystal heart between his fingers.

Ari turns his palm up and a wave of heat washes over you. A butt plug. Very reasonable in size, but it doesn't change the fact you're still squirmy and shy when your Dom initiates anal play.

You almost caused him a laughing hiccup when you tried to talk your way out of it, by blurting out it's unhygienic.

In moments like that, when you knew Ari was going to push against your resistance, you considered moving everything into a hard limit list. Though Ari had the skill to use kissing alone as a damn torment.

You curse under your breath when Ari moves to stand behind you and kicks your feet wider apart. You catch a small audience glancing your way, quickly shifting your own gaze to the floor.

There's a snick of a bottle being open and then Ari's finger slides between your buttcheeks, smearing a dollop of lube around your rim.

The plug is coated in lube as well, easing its way inside.

Your breath quickens, a whimper spilling on your lips when Ari pushes the toy in.

"Push back, Chérie. That's it," he encourages you.

While his voice is soft and the hand steadying your hip is reassuring, the pressure against your tightest hole is merciless.

“There you go,” Ari forces the whole thing in, tracing the heart-shaped securing end with his finger. “So pretty and sparkly.”

He pats your ass lightly, rounding you again. A glint of recognition in his eyes tells you that he's acutely aware that you’re settling into every sensation, every part of the scene that’s unfolding.

Ari knows your body is throbbing with growing need, that you’re focusing on the feeling of your nipples being crushed and your ass being stretched; as well on the helplessness of being bound and naked in front of him. In front of other people, too. And he knows being at his mercy (while also deeply certain of remaining in his care) tops your arousal.

Your gaze is a little dazed already as you look up at him, a blissed sigh leaving your lips when Ari’s touch marks your body.

He’s tracing lines along your sides, moving closer to caress your back and then up your arms. He draws patterns with his fingertips, then squeezes your ass with both hands.

Breath hitches in your lungs as Ari crouches down, his hot breath tickling your belly while his large hands grip your thighs.

For a long moment nothing happens, just Ari keeping his mouth an inch from your wet core as he slides his hands up and down your legs, each time moving them a little higher, a little further between your thighs.

When his tongue flicks against your clit, your whole body jerks with sensation. The chain clinks, your feet scrambling against the floor, and the heart-shaped weights on the nipple clamps tug harsher.

“Shh,” Ari coos, wrapping his arms around your thighs to help you steady.

He works wicked eights on your swelling nub, his tongue putting spells that drive you surely to the edge, but keep away from finishing your torment.

When he pulls back, you have half a mind to glare at him. The fact he doesn’t immediately retaliate with a swat to your clit only increases your worry. Turns you on even more, as well.

Ari reaches into his pocket once again. It takes your glazed eyes a few seconds to make out the glint of the implement within his palm. Similar to a minimalistic, curved brooch, with a single red, crystal heart.

“Oh God, Sir.” You nearly weep, tugging on the chain binding your hands. “Please no, Sir, please, please.”

Ari doesn’t show an ounce of irritation this time, he’s too smug about drawing reactions from your body. Though you are certain that the clit clamp he has prepared for you is for his own amusement, not your own pleasure.

“Color?” He simply asks, referring to the traffic color system that’s the classic and most basic form of stating your state when in a bdsm scene.

You whine again, because you can’t lie to him and because you’re not even distressed.

“Green,” you admit, pouting.

You try tilting your ass back, moving your sensitive parts away from the wicked Master with his stupid implements of evil. A smack on the back of your thigh has you yelping and scooting back forward. You earn another slap for glaring.

“FuckjesusohgodSirfuck-” you babble, eyes screwing shut as Ari pinches your puffy folds together and clamps them.

Your engorged clit is fully exposed in the tear-shaped hole, its sides squeezing it only a tad lighter than the torture devices do your nipples. The heart shaped crystal falls right atop your exposed clit and you know it will bump it with every move.

Sucking in a breath, you press your lips together and still your body. If you won’t move a single muscle then it will be alright.

Moderately alright, since you’re suffering already, but better than the-

Your mouth falls open on a cry and your whole body jolts when Ari pats your clit with an open hand.

Your core burns, walls fluttering rapidly. Your ass clenches too, which in turn leads to a dirty reminder that it's stretched around a plug. Movement causes the chain between nipple clamps to sway, tugging on your abused peaks.

The heat inside you grows, blood rushing through you and buzzing in your head.

Lips parted, as moan after moan trickles out, you fall deeper into sensations spreading through your body. Your mind gets a little cloudy, shutting out everything that isn’t connected to your body.

Ari’s touch becomes a beacon, drawing your attention to wherever he points. Light strokes of his hands, instead of soothing your body, escalate the madness. His mouth joins the torment, kisses and bites overloading your senses.

You keen loudly when he brushes the back of his hand against your trapped, swollen folds. You don’t even register the hum of delight from your audience when Ari taps the crystal over your clit and it bounces, making you cry out.

“Who would’ve thought that a shiny trinket is so whiny?” Ari mocks.

You, amusing him further, whine again, your head lolling forward.

Ari’s fingers push between your lips, coarse pads rubbing against your tongue. He drives two, then three, almost to the back of your throat. Then withdraws them, a string of saliva stretching between your mouth and his fingers.

He brings his wet fingers to your clit again, circling it oh so slowly, then flicking the crystal over and over again.

He gives you short reprieve, enough for the pulsing in your clit to marginally subside. Enough that when he finally takes the damn clamp off, you don’t come immediately from the sheer return of blood to your sensitive parts.

You’re nearly panting and doing your best to keep your legs spread, because if you closed your thighs an inch, it surely would be a stimulation enough you’d orgasm.

Which, actually, is tempting as hell…

You don’t get to try it, however. Ari is pushing between your thighs; pants undone and cock sheathed.

He grips one of your legs below the knee and pulls it up, wrapping it around his hip. Bending his legs slightly, Ari guides the head of his cock into your pussy. Standing still for a moment, he moves his now free hand to grip your ass and then plunges in one, swift stroke.

The stretch is maddening enough to have you push up on your tiptoes, but Ari drives in to the hilt, sinking himself so deeply that your oversensitive clit crushes into his pelvis.

You come with a scream, body convulsing in pleasure so high it’s almost painful.

Ari holds you through it, a vein in his neck pulsing as he forces himself to stay still and not fuck into the clenching heat of your cunt.

When you slump forward, head resting in the crook of Ari’s neck, he teases loud enough for your hazy brain to register and for your audience to hear:

“So much trouble with shiny trinkets. You poke it and it immediately breaks apart.”

Your incoherent mewl against his neck makes Ari huff a laugh.

He kisses your shoulder softly then starts moving. He keeps the few first thrusts slow, finding the best angle for his own pleasure. Then steadily increases the pace and the force.

You start responding, as each push jolts your body and the embers of arousal ignite into flames again. The clamps on your nipples are still attached, pulling on your peaks with each roll of Ari’s hips. His hand on your ass angles, long digits resting atop the crystal of the anal plug and tapping it repeatedly.

“Oh! Ohh!” Your head tilts back, cheek squishing into your outstretched arm.

Ari tugs on the butt plug, cock driving into you harder. Among the fizz in your head, you can hear faint jingling - of the chains on the rafter, of the chain swaying between your tits, of the buckle in Ari’s belt.

There’s also the pitiful babble coming from your own mouth: begging and prayers, all at once.

Ari’s grunts elicit a special type of pleasure, a certain fulfillment at knowing your Dom is satisfied. That you give him this pleasure. For a submissive like you it’s a gratification greater than your own orgasm.

Though you sure love the shattering climax that Ari rips from you when he rams into your pussy at a particular angle.

The squeeze of your walls topples him over soon after you. The feelings of his cock twitching inside you makes you sigh in contentment. It always does, whether he finishes in one of your holes, or in your hand.

You don’t fully register the tenderly spoken “I’ve got you, mon amour,” when Ari slides out of you a few heartbeats later.

It’s the rush of blood returning to your nipples after he takes off the clamps, that shakes you out of daze. The zap of pain surges to your core in a twisted ripple.

Ari rubs your nipples gently, easing the ache. Kisses each tip.

He eases out the plug from your hole, then gathers all the toys into a small zip-lock bag to take it cleaning later. One strong arm around your middle, Ari uses his other hand to unchain you. There’s no stumbling as you sink boneless into his arms, Ari's an expert in catching and holding you.

With your head resting against Ari’s chest when he sits down on a small sofa, after wrapping you in a soft blanket, you focus on the pounding of his heart beneath your ear and don’t hear the passing comment of one of the Masters about it being a fun idea to have someone be made into a trinket once a week.

Ari doesn’t mind this type of recurring decoration at the club.

As for the kind of shiny trinkets you liked, Ari decides on buying you a few sun catchers to hang in the windows, so you could chase the shards of rainbow scattered on the floor and walls.

#Ari Levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x female reader #dom!Ari Levinson #dom!Ari Levinson x reader #Ari Levinson imagine #ruby garden #heart of ruby #ruby garden series #chris evans imagine #chris evans fic #ari levinson fic

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littlelioncub43 · 1 year

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Come On, Come On, Darling

Summary: A late night out with friends, and an uncomfortably deep talk has Eddie thinking about you. He just hopes you're thinking about him the same way.

Pairing: Mechanic!Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Warning: fluff, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, best friends to lovers, drinking, Eddie being an absolute angel and a gentleman, reader does Eddie's make up (you're welcome), pet names ( I overuse "princess," sue me), the rest of the ST gang all being happy, season 4 never happened here, Wayne being oddly insightful and a good uncle, more plot than anything, but smut will happen in part 3, and a partridge in a pear tree.

Word Count: 4,039

A/N: I started this a while ago, hated it, took a break from it, came back and finished it �� bon appetit. Bahaha! No, the break from it was much needed. I think I was tired when I said it was awful, because upon review it wasn't that bad. I love this one, you guys. I'm jealous of them. I'm jealous of the fictional couple that I created. I hope you guys like this one! Part 3 will have ze smut, so you have to be patient and polite as you wait for it hehe. Let me know what you think! Reblog, comment, send an ask, a carrier pigeon, a singing telegram— really anything. Ok! I love you!

Kisses 💋

—K

Part I. Series Masterlist Part III

The sound of random tinkering and a distant radio at the end of Mack’s Auto Garage welcomed you with a familiar warmth. Cars and trucks littered the parking lot and garage, random parts and pieces that made absolutely no sense to you sprawled out over the work benches. Eddie had a morning shift today, much to his dismay, but when money calls— he answers. Parking next to his decrepit van, you fiddle with the strap of your bag as you meander through the concrete workspace looking for him. You hear him long before you see him.

“Where did I put it? Son of a—“

“Missing something, Munson?” You interrupted Eddie’s nearly frantic search of his locker, his head snapping up in surprise. His normally untamed hair was pulled back into a low bun (with a scrunchie that looks suspiciously like the one you misplaced two weeks ago) with his favorite bandana tied around his brow to keep the sweat off. The dark blue coveralls with his name etched in red thread on his left chest were unzipped at his waist, a plain white t-shirt adorning his chest, oil and dirt smeared into the fabric were he wiped his hands clean on his thighs.

“Yeah, my freaking lighter. That thing must have finally grown legs and ran off or some shit,” he rambles and resumes to pat down the pockets of his leather jacket. “What are you doing here?”

“You left this in my car,” you slip the silver flip lighter from the back pocket of your black jeans and wiggle it between your thumb and index finger, “figured you’d need it sooner than later.”

“Oh, you’re a beautiful, gracious, and kind woman,” he groans dramatically with relief, happily taking the lighter from you. You chuckle and lean against the hood of the car at his bench, Eddie following suit. He pops a cigarette into his mouth and lights it swiftly, taking a long drag, his eyes shut as he holds it in at the top, and slowly blowing out a wispy cloud of smoke.

“Jesus Christ, you have no idea how badly I needed that,” he grumbles before bringing it back to his lips, “you’re a lifesaver.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Oh. Yeah, you, too, Sweets, thanks,” he teases with a coy smile. You playfully shove his shoulder, making him laugh around the cigarette. “We still on for drinks later with Steve and them?”

“7, right?” He hums an affirmative, “yeah, that sounds good,” you glance at the clock on the wall, “Shit, I gotta go, my shift starts soon.”

“Okay,” he nods, crushing out the partially spent cigarette in the ashtray on his bench as you fish your keys out of your jacket pocket. “Wear that cute top, the black one that hangs off your shoulders,” he calls out after you as you walk away.

“Why?” You chuckle and turn to look at him while you walk backwards, the move alone made Eddie think you were the coolest fucking chick that ever graced this floating space rock.

“It’s pretty,” he shrugged casually as he slung the arms of his coveralls back on, but you noticed the soft dusting of color along his cheeks.

“Fine, but only if you tuck your shirt into your pants,” you bargain and point at him from your spot at the mouth of the garage. He groans, making you laugh.

“I’m going to look like a loser!” He whines, failing to hide his smile at your giggling.

“That’s the point! I’ll see you then, Gomer,” you tease and finally get to your car, if you stayed any longer you’d definitely be late for your shift at the record shop.

You heard his van pull into your driveway just as you were finishing the last bit of your eye makeup. You always went light with the mascara and eyeliner for the sake of being comfortable, and it made washing your face a lot easier at the end of the night. The sound of Eddie’s keys jingling was followed by his bright voice calling your name. When you came out of your room, you found him sitting on your counter, munching on a bag of chips.

“Oo, look at you all prettied up,” he coos around a mouthful of Doritos. You feel your face heat up ever so slightly at his words, you did feel pretty. The knit, long sleeve black top that Eddie had requested clung to your shape deliciously, precisely the reason he loved it so much. The neckline was low enough to show off your collarbones and bits of your shoulder, and gave you the perfect opportunity to show off the pendant necklace that Eddie got for your graduation present years ago. Tight ripped black jeans matched Eddie’s own pair down to the black studded belt, except you swapped out your comfortable pair of converses for a chunky black boot. Eddie was positive: you were the coolest chick to ever live.

“I was going to say the same thing about you, Munson,” you chuckle and take him in, he does a little twirl. He wore his classic black jeans and handcuff belt, a staple in Eddie’s uniform. A black AC/DC t shirt hugged his sturdy torso and was neatly tucked into his jeans, just like you asked. You gotta admit: he did not look like a loser. He never did.

“Ya think so? I was worried that my jacket didn’t match my purse,” he jokes.

“No, no, they do, don’t worry,” you soothe and try to hide your smile. Suddenly, you speak before your mind can catch up with what you’re saying. “Do you want some eyeliner?”

“What?” Eddie chuckles, licking the Dorito dust from his fingers. You swallow and decide, fuck it, you already asked.

“Do you want some eyeliner? I think it would… look nice,” you stutter out as smoothly as you can. He thinks it over for a brief second before he nods casually.

“Yeah, sure, why not,” Eddie manages to sound calm, much to his surprise. His heart may have skipped a few beats at your small compliment.

The next thing he knows you have him sat at your vanity, facing you as you stand in between his legs. One hand gently cups his jaw while the other wields a stick of your favorite black eyeliner. You try your best not to get lost in the feeling of his stubble scratching at your palm or the warmth of his hands on your outer thighs, and focus on drawing in the darkness around his eyes. Eddie sits as still as he can, the last thing he wants is to lose an eye. He trusts you completely, it’s his fidgeting that he doesn’t trust.

“Ok, close your eyes for me,” you say softly, the closeness brought your voice to a hushed whisper. Eddie shut his eyes without a second thought, he listened to the steady inhale and exhale as you stood in front of him. Eddie was unfairly gorgeous, his sweeping eyelashes, the placid expression that soothed his face coupled with the calm trust that surrounded you both made your heart flutter and your knees buckle. Steeling your nerves, you carefully applied the makeup along his upper lashes. “Alright, open. Look up, please.”

Eddie stared up at the ceiling, trying his best not to flinch as you brought the product under his lashes. He wished so badly to be able to watch you, you were so cute when you concentrated on things. Your eyebrows furrowed, drawn together in concentration, and your face set in an oddly serious expression. With one last smudge of eyeliner, you pulled back with a smile.

“All done. What d’ya think?” You ask and put your makeup away as he turns to look in the mirror.

“Not bad, not bad. What do you think?” He quirks an eyebrow. If you were honest, he was the hottest man you’ve ever seen, and that was without the makeup on. With the dark circles rimming his gorgeous brown eyes, he was deadly. But you couldn’t exactly say that.

“I think you look super cool,” you say honestly and grab your purse.

“Metal?” He stood up, following you out of your room.

“Very metal, but if we don’t get going soon, we’re going to be very late,” you chuckle and hand him his leather jacket and keys. Eddie nods and slips one his jacket with ease, the full ensemble complete, and, fuck, did he look hot. He locked the front door after you, skipping quickly ahead to open the passenger seat door for you.

“M’lady,” he bows, grinning like an idiot when you curtsey back and hop in.

It was going to be a fun night.

And it was.

Steve, Robin, Jonathan, and Nancy were sat comfortably at the table when you and Eddie arrived. Jokes were told, laughs were shared, and drinks were poured. Lots and lots of drinks. By midnight, the whole table was on the heavier side of tipsy, if not drunk. Steve and Robin were neck deep in a debate on whether or not Michael Myers was human or not, with Jonathan acting as moderator while Nancy fought through the spins. At some point, you ended up in Eddie’s lap, your arm slung around his shoulders with his own circled around your waist while you both listened and weighed in on what you have dubbed “The Great Halloween Dispute of 1987.”

Eddie had slipped his jacket off after his second beer, revealing his toned arms (all those shifts at the garage were paying off in more ways than one), the short sleeves of his t shirt rolled up ever so slightly. You toyed with a strand of Eddie’s hair like always and sipped on a glass of water, one that Eddie was quick to swipe from your hand. He took a good gulp without much thought and set it on the table.

“Well, Princess, what do you think? Should we call it a night?” He slurs his words as he rubs the length of your outer thigh absentmindedly.

“Yeeaah,” you drawl, your head was starting to spin even from the safety of Eddie’s lap. Looking down at him, you were struck again with the overwhelming feeling flooding your heart. Even in the low light of the seedy bar, he looks like the perfect man that God, or whoever is up there, made just for you. You bring one hand to rest on his forearm, your thumb stroking the bat tattoos you love gently. Eddie tightens his grip on you before giving you that million dollar smile, one that you can’t help but return with drunken ease. He pats your leg, signaling for you to stand, and you do, much to your objection (you were quite comfortable in his lap).

“Alright, gang, as fun as it’s been, the missus and I gotta head out,” Eddie announces as you slip away to pay for your drinks before he can. A chorus of slurred but friendly goodbyes send Eddie on his way to the bar just as you finish forking over the money for both his and your drinks. “Noooo, you don’ pay for drinks,” he scolds as you put your wallet away, his face scrunched in a pout.

“Yeah? Who said?” You playfully tease as he slides his leather coat over your shoulders, one glance outside and he knew that you’d be chilly on the way to the van. You subtly breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne, the same one you got for his birthday 2 years ago.

“Pretty girls don’ pay for drinks, everyone knows that,” he casually answers, he was much bolder with about 4 glasses of liquid courage warming his blood. You laugh, not bothering to hide the bashfulness in your voice and he smiles at the sound, leading you out to the van at the far end of the parking lot. He saw the way you shivered and pulled the oversized jacket around you tighter. Fishing his keys from his pocket, he opens the back doors and quickly starts setting up the blankets he had stored in the back. You must have made a face because Eddie’s soon laughing and shaking his head. “M’not drivin’ you home drunk, Princess. Could get ya hurt, s’too dangerous. Now, com’on.”

Your heart does a summersault at his words, but that’s just who he was. Caring, sweet, understanding, reliable, trustworthy. That’s Eddie Munson. He sees the fondness in your smile again, his stomach erupting in butterflies. If he wasn’t such a chicken shit, this is where he would tell you how gorgeous you are and kiss you, if you’d let him. But he doesn’t. Instead, he hops out of the van and holds out his hand to help you inside.

The old mattress he keeps tucked away in the back is draped in blankets, folded as neatly as a drunk Eddie could get them. You sit at the end of the makeshift bed, your legs hanging out the doors to take off your boots. Without a word, Eddie starts untying your laces, carefully undoing the knots, slipping the shoes off your feet and setting them neatly next to the mattress.

“Thank you,” you meekly reply, the sweet gesture having stolen your voice.

“You’re welcome, Sweets,” he pats your leg, “scoot over.”

He hops in, shutting the doors behind him before double checking that all the doors are locked. You hide a yawn behind your hand as he settles down on the other side of the bed, kicking off his shoes unceremoniously. You slip off your belt and other jewelry, opting to stay in your jeans for the night. Eddie does the same, slinging his belt into the pile with his shoes before crawling under the questionably clean blanket. He sighs and settles in with a groan, his eyes shutting for only a moment before he’s watching you tuck your earrings into the pocket of his leather jacket. You turn around to find Eddie making grabby hands at you, smiling, you crawl in next to him, letting him pull you into his chest and tuck the blanket around you both snugly. The chill of the van made cuddling a necessity, even under the blanket you could feel the stagnant bite of cold of the coming winter. Letting out a content sigh, you relaxed into the comfortable silence, the world around you only slightly spinning now as sleep began to descend on you. Eddie stares up at the metal roof, his eyes slowly getting heavier and heavier as the moments tick by.

“I like when you tuck your shirts in,” you sleepily confess, your voice was hushed as you whispered your little secret to your best friend. He can’t help but chuckle tiredly at your words, the sound more akin to a deep rumble as opposed to his normally bright laughter.

“Yeah?” Is all he can think to say, his face burning even in the chilly van.

“Yeah,” you shyly confirm, tracing the bats on his forearm once more, the action sends Eddie into a tizzy.

“Y’like when I look like a dweeb?” He jokes with a yawn, sleep fast approaching.

“You never look like a dweeb,” you mumble just before you drift off, your fingers slowing to a stop on his skin, If he wasn’t tired, he would have teased you to hell and back about it, but all he can do it chuckle lowly in his chest and hold you a little tighter. Why do you have to be so cute?

“I like when we sleep like this,” he rested his cheek on the top of your head, letting one hand stroke your arm tenderly, the action only pushing you quicker towards sleep. He hears you hum in acknowledgement and agreement.

“Me too, Eds.”

There’s a few moments of silence before Eddie realizes you’re asleep.

“Goodnight, Princess,” Eddie whispers with a smile and kisses the crown of your head, the sound of your even breaths fill the van and lull him into his own peaceful slumber.

Eddie wakes up to the sound of your soft snores and the growl of a stray truck chugging down the street. Your back is pressed to his front as you both lay on your sides, his arm under your head like a pillow and out stretched, his other arm was strung across your waist. The warmth of your body pressed against his had fought off the cold of the night exceptionally well, it drew him in for more, so he buried his face into the crook of your neck. The smell of your perfume mixing with the scent of his own cologne had Eddie groaning softly, this was the life. Nothing could bring him down, not even the soft thudding in his head or the dryness of his mouth.

You stirred next to him, your eyes still shut as you reached out for Eddie’s hand on instinct. When your smaller hand found his, you immediately laced your fingers together. Eddie looked at where your hands were joined and gave a small incredulous scoff and smile, his arm around your midsection squeezed you into him hard enough to force the air out of you.

“Why are you so damn cute? Huh? Who said you could be this fucking adorable?” He rambled on in a groggy whisper, his morning voice was just as glorious as you remember it being. You giggle as consciousness fills you.

“It’s a curse, really. Doctors have been studying me for years, it’s a medical mystery,” you joke and carefully rub your eyes with your free hand. You were surprised to find that you felt well rested for having slept in the back of your best friend’s van after a night of drinking with no pillow, in a pair of tight jeans, and no fan. You peek over your shoulder to find Eddie’s puppy eyes already staring back at you. The smudges of eyeliner looked even better in the morning sunshine. You could only imagine how you look right now. “Wanna get breakfast?”

“God, yes,” he mumbles with a smile. He was starving, plus he wanted to pay you back for covering his drinks last night. Reluctantly, he peels his hand from yours to reach for his shoes and keys. You hum and stretch out a little, cracking your back before getting your shoes back on as well. You’re both quick to fold the blankets and get into your seats, the pits in your stomach rumbled and demanded to be satisfied. The drive to the nearest diner was thankfully short.

Before long, you and Eddie find yourselves tucked into a booth with plates of hot food and even hotter coffee in front of you. The looks you receive from the other patrons did nothing but amuse you both. And what a sight you both were: strolling in at 9am reeking of the drink that Nancy accidentally spilled, last night’s makeup smeared across your eyes, bed hair, both dressed to the nines in black. Compared to the lovely elderly couple on their weekly Sunday morning date, you both looked like bats out of Hell. When you offered the old woman a polite smile, she was quick to return it, her husband was busy staring Eddie down, clearly not a fan of his tattoos or makeup. Soon, the plates were cleared and the cups were emptied, and you both meandered your way back to the van.

“Alright, Sweetheart, back home, it is?” He asks as he backs out of the parking lot, you scroll through the radio stations, hoping to find something good on.

“Yes, please, I need to shower,” you groan, the longer you stayed in your makeup the more grimy you felt. A hot shower would solve all your problems.

“Oo, no chance you’ll let me join, would you?” Eddie half jokes, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You roll your eyes with a smile and shake your head. “Damn, next time, then.”

Quicker than he’d like, he parks in front of your trailer. You gather your things, double checking that you have everything before hopping out of the passenger side. With a quick goodbye, you’re bounding indoors, making a beeline for the shower. Eddie watches until you’re inside then makes his own way home. He’s surprised to find Wayne’s car parked in its spot in the yard.

“You just getting in?” Wayne asks as soon as the door opens, Wayne sat at the kitchen table, eating whatever leftovers were in the fridge before heading to bed. Eddie sets his keys aside on the table and nods. “Out with that girl, again?” Eddie gives him a look as he sought out a glass of water, Wayne knew your name but he just liked giving Eddie a hard time, especially when he stays out all night.

“Yeah, we had some drinks with some friends, it ran a little later than planned.”

“Did you and her…” Wayne trails off, tilting his head to finish his sentence.

“Oh God,” Eddie sighs and hangs his head. Wayne would ask from time to time, and it never ceased to be awkward as balls.

“I’m just askin’. If you are, I’d rather you be safe about i—“ he defends calmly.

“I know how to be safe about—“ Eddie cuts himself off with another sigh, rubbing his face with both his hands. “I know how to be safe, but no. We did not… do things.”

“Ok,” Wayne nods, throwing his hands up in surrender to show that he dropped it. Eddie relaxes and finishes his water, happy to escape the awkward conversation. Or so he thought. “It’s obvious you like her, so I thought it would have happened by now.”

Eddie sputters a few words, each sentence of denial dying on his tongue. Wayne gives him a look and Eddie just knows that denying it isn’t any good. He flops into the chair on the other side of the table, looking up to his uncle through his lashes.

“How obvious is it?” Eddie asks softly. In that moment, Wayne sees the years fall away from Eddie and what’s left behind is what Wayne saw all those years ago: his kid nephew, lost and needing guidance. He smiles warmly, a rare sight, and scratches his head.

“Well, it’s not super obvious,” Wayne grumbles gently, resting his forearms on the table, “but I’m sure some of your friends notice it too.”

Eddie curses under his breath, his face hot with embarrassment. If other people could see how bad he has it for you, then that means you might see it too.

“Do… Do you think she knows?” He asks shyly, fiddling with the rings on his fingers for comfort. Wayne leans back in his chair, giving a small shrug.

“She might,” that answer weighs heavily on Eddie but Wayne is quick to try fix it, “but, would that be a bad thing?”

“Yes! No! I-I don’t know,” Eddie rambles, bouncing his leg as he does the mental gymnastics of trying to figure out if you knew.

“Personally, kid, I don’t think it would be. Knowin’ that you love her, how could that be bad?” His words knock around in Eddie’s head for a few moments before he speaks in a small voice.

“It could ruin everything,” Wayne couldn’t help but laugh at those words.

“Kid, lovin’ someone doesn’t ruin a damn thing,” he smiles and crosses his arms. “If it’s right, then it’s right. If not, then it’s not. But that doesn’t mean that it’s wrong.”

Eddie took in his words again, chewing his lip nervously. He hated when Wayne was like this, all insightful and wise. It was unnerving, but at the same time, he always knew exactly what Eddie needed to hear.

“You do what you think is best, Eddie. I’m gonna go to bed now, I’ll see ya tonight,” he stands and pats Eddie’s back as he makes his way towards the pull out sofa. Eddie mumbles his goodnights and makes his way to his own room, Wayne’s alarmingly wise words knocking around his head as he gets ready for a shower.

Would it be so bad if you knew? He was going to find out.

Part I. Part III

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whiskygoldwings · 1 month

Text

Within Operating Parameters

One shot

Cody/Obi-Wan. Boil/Waxer. Clone/clone relationship mentioned.

Alternative Universe: Soulmates

Warnings: Dehumanization of clones

This kinda hit me out of nowhere, and kept me up until nearly 1 in the morning to finish it, so apologies if there's any errors/disjointedness. Also, I'm not sure who started calling the Negotiator's medic Helix, but it's stuck with me and I can't shake it now!

The clones never removed their helmets. Or, at least, not where anyone other than another clone can see. They spoke in military terms only, introduced themselves with identity numbers instead of names.

It makes Obi-Wan nauseous, even as he smiles gently at CC-2224 and thanks him for his assistance again.

He could FEEL their personalities in the Force, which only made their outward meat-droid presentation all the more painful. It’s unsettled all the Jedi, he knows, but he has always been particularly empathetic, and their fear and anxiety every time any nat-borns are near them makes him want to gag.

It presses at him constantly, the wary avoidance of him, the hopeful hero-worship, tainted by terror and panic. He’s been convinced from the very beginning that the clones are a trap, too conveniently placed to gift them an army when war began. But they are a particularly efficient trap for him. He can feel the curl of the Dark in the violent hatred he feels for the Kaminoans, in the creeping desire to turn the Negotiator to Kamino and rip the foundations asunder.

He breaths deep, drawing in the loving warmth of the Force, and breathing out the pain. His eyes are closed, and he feels a worried pang from one of the helmsmen, but he does his best to ignore it.

It’s the most effective torture that could have been devised.

——

CC-2224 stares at his eyes in the Mirror.

Still matching. Still golden-brown. Still within operating parameters.

He steps away, pulling his helmet on and activating the seals, ceding his spot to the next brother in line. CT-1477 is similary within operating parameters, but he takes the pre-requisite 30 seconds to observe and ensure he is still acceptable before moving to follow CC-2224 to the bridge.

CC-2224 sheds Cody with every step away from the Vode barracks. The clone slips over him, concealing the defective core of the brother from the enemy.

It’s a little harder today, as he steps onto the bridge. General Kenobi turns to him, and there’s a sad smile on his face, that quickly slides into a warm greeting, blue eyes shining at him.

CC-2224 knows the flash of warmth in his heart is defective, but it passes quickly. It is not permanent. It does not require reporting.

General Kenobi’s smile falters, and briefly there’s something painful on his face, before the serene calm washes it all away.

CC-2224 does not ache for the smile to return. He is functional. He reviews the battle scenario presented to him, and devises a strategy. He is not proud when General Kenobi strokes his beard and grins. He is not pleased when General Kenobi tells him it’s an excellent plan. He nods, and issues orders.

Cody bundles the memory in a tiny, precious box in his mind, and holds onto it for later.

——

Cody wakes in the midst of his brothers, warm and comfortable. Boil has a leg over his, Crys’ stomach is under his head. Wooley, the limpet, has drooled on his kriffing bicep again, and Cody can’t quite bring himself to be annoyed about it.

He’s woken, as he always does, at precisely 05.00hrs. He’s the Marshall Commander, he needs to wake before the others. The Kaminoans had trained it into him.

They did not train the extra five minutes he takes to soak up the warmth of his vod into him. That he took for himself.

The others wake around him when the five minutes are up. Wooley wipes his face on Cody’s arm, grinning up at him when he glares down. Crys stretches, careful not to disrupt Cody too much. Boil doesn’t move. He’s always struggled with mornings. Waxer is already pressing kisses into his cheek, dragging him up from the dark with the sheer obstinateness of his love.

Cody sighs, and waits until Boil manages to curl himself away from him, into Waxer, fumbling tired fingers into Waxer’s hair and holding him to him.

It’s time to get up.

Cody rises, stretching out cramped muscles from sleeping on the cold floor. They haven’t had an inspection yet while on the Venator, but the harsh punishments of the trainers and Kaminoans when they’d dragged the mattresses onto the floor still ache in each of them, and they haven’t dared that level of deviance yet. He firmly pushes away thoughts that General Kenobi probably wouldn’t care, would probably be pleased to see the humanity in them, and goes to take a piss and brush his teeth. There’s mirrors all along the wall in the bathroom over the sinks, but they’re not the Mirror, so he doesn’t bother to meet his eyes. Around him, brothers do the same, a mix of grumbling and smiling vode, all going through the morning routine.

Breakfast is caff and porridge. It’s actually not bad. The Generals had argued that ration bars was not enough to sustain an army conducting warfare, so Cody and his vod got real food now. It’s eaten in the confines of their cafeteria, sequestered deep in Vode territory, away from any nat-born eyes, but it makes Cody feel a little more human.

There’s not been a lot of that in their lives.

He finishes first, and stands first. He is always the first. It’s the correct order of things. He feels Cody start to slip away, CC-2224 activating with the measured footsteps towards the armour lockers. None of the other Vode catch his eye, the fond touches of earlier come to an end.

CC-2224 is not their vod.

He strips perfunctorily, and steps into the sonic. Cody looks down at his body, traces the new scar on his shoulder. CC-2224 steps out when it finishes. Pulls on the new set of blacks waiting for him. He settles the pieces of armour into place.

Around Cody/CC-2224 other brothers/clones strip and clean themselves. Deadened eyes, tight jaws. The rare aesthetical defect standing out in the midst of symmetrical bodies.

Cody glances away and walks out. He stutters a moment, dread coursing through him.

What if he didn’t look in the Mirror? Just for one day. What if he didn’t look?

He does, of course. Two golden-brown eyes. Matching. No deviance.

CC-2224 pulls his helmet on and goes to his duty.

——

There’s something tense in CC-2224’s presence today, Obi-Wan observes. Almost like he’s approaching a precipice, and has a choice as to whether he backs away, or continues to the edge. It’s beautiful. Obi-Wan finds himself watching out the corner of his eye, breath held, waiting to see which way he goes.

CC-2224 stays calmly still, hands behind his back, feet shoulder width apart. His chest rises and falls slowly.

Obi-Wan sighs, and looks away. There’s a spark of frustration, before he manages to ease it into the Force. The tense feeling has eased, CC-2224 has walked away from the cliff edge, and Obi-Wan does his best not to feel bitter disappointment.

Perhaps if he’d approached the man...?

He’s very tired of being feared.

It’s a moment of anger, a moment of exhaustion that drives him when he strides over to CC-2224, and puts a hand to his shoulder. It horrifies him in the next second, and he gapes awkwardly at the tilted helmet.

He has never breached their personal space before. It was vile, they had so little autonomy over their own lives; he refused to put them in uncomfortable situations when they were so clearly institutionalised to avoid any nat-borns.

Yet he’s still got his hand on CC-2224’s shoulder. He’s still staring into that visor, blue eyes searching for a glimpse of anything underneath.

CC-2224 doesn’t shake him off, doesn’t move. His external comms must have switched off, because there’s not even the sound of his breathing. He is still, silent, and his Force presence has shrunk to a...

Oh...

Obi-Wan feels his own breath catch, as something delicate and yearning unfurls from the shadow of CC-2224’s mind. The helmet trembles slightly, and a gloved hand comes up to place careful fingers over his own. They stand like that for a moment, two, and Obi-Wan realises the trembling of the helmet is rough, disjointed.

He thinks CC-2224 is shouting in there.

Obi-Wan doesn’t know what compels him. He lifts his other hand to CC-2224’s helmet, places his fingers over the button to unseal his helm. CC-2224’s other hand jerks up, grabbing his wrist. He waits, and CC-2224’s fingers loosen, then slide over the back of his hand, over his own fingers, and press down against them.

The helmet unseals with a hiss.

They stand there for a moment longer, Obi-Wan staring into the visor, the visor impassively staring back. The trembling has stopped, but CC-2224 heaves with every harsh breath that pants out of his mouth, loud in the absolute silence of the Bridge. Obi-Wan suddenly worries for his ability to breathe, bringing both hands to the edges of the helmet, dislodging the gloved ones on top of his, and slides the helmet off.

CC-2224 has wide, golden-brown eyes, a cruel scar around the left one, and a wide, gasping mouth. He stares desperately back at Obi-Wan, who hungrily drinks in every line of his face, the helmet falling to the floor and rolling away as he presses his hands to either side of CC-2224’s face.

He watches, wonderously, as the golden-brown of Cody’s left eye swirls and rivers of blue flow through it’s warm deserts. He feels an odd, warm sensation in his own left eye, and knows sunlight and sand is filling his in turn.

CC-2224’s eyes snap to his own changing one, and he touches a gloved thumb to the edge of Obi-Wan’s eyelid. Obi-Wan can’t help himself, this wonderful, miraculous man in front of him overwhelmes him, and he turns his face and tilts up, pressing his lips to the pad of that thumb. Something broken punches out of CC-2224’s throat He grabs Obi-Wan’s face and slams their lips together.

It’s imperfect, teeth, brutal desparation and terror, but Obi-Wan answers, careful and gentle, easing them into a cautious kiss. He slides a hand into curling, regulation-cut hair, and slowly pulls away. He leaves his forehead pressed against CC-2224’s briefly, watching him come back to himself in fits and starts, and the horror beginning to twist his face.

Obi-Wan steps back, heart heavy as he lets go of CC-2224, as CC-2224’s hands fall away from him. This is his soulmate. His soulmate is terrified of him.

Obi-Wan has gone too far.

He still isn’t really sure what came over him. He steps away, collecting CC-2224’s helmet from where it rolled to, and walking back to him. The man is frozen, the only movement his eyes, wide like a cornered animal as he watches Obi-Wan. It hurts, like nothing Obi-Wan has ever felt before.

He raises CC-2224’s helmet over his head, and carefully brings it down, concealing those beautiful, mismatched eyes, one the colour of golden sands at sunset, one ocean-blue. He brings the helmet down, until it sits snugly where it should, and activates the seals.

He steps away, then turns and leaves. He feels the tears on his cheeks as he goes, and knows CC-2224 saw them before he left.

The other clones on the bridge never turned away from their panels.

——

CC-2224 functions within parameters for the rest of his shift. He does not see the General again. His heart rate is high, his breathing short, but he wrangles them back into acceptable ranges every time they begin to exceed the maximum. The other clones do not react to him. They do not say anything. They do not deviate from their duties.

Only Cody has done that today.

CC-2224 carries them through the rest of their shift. He does not wonder where General Kenobi, and his deviant mismatched eyes are at any point. He does not think about him. Does not remember his chapped, warm lips on his...

CC-2224 breaths carefully, brings them back within parameters, and functions.

It is Cody, when he passes the door to the Vode barracks, who wrenches off his helmet, tearing skin in his haste to pull it off before he releases the seals, and flings it carelessly to the floor. It is Cody who stumbles to the Mirror, desparate and terrified, and looks at his eyes.

Mismatched, deviant eyes.

His right is still regulation golden-brown. His left... His left is wonderful, brilliant stormy ocean blue. He presses stunned fingers to his own cheek, then to the Mirror, not quite able to believe what he sees. He stares, and stares, and stares. It does not change.

His brothers are behind him, helmets off, matching golden-brown eyes all staring at his own not-matching set. There’s wonder, horror, fear and anticipation on each of their identical faces. They are silent, waiting for him to react first.

He does not know what to do.

Eventually, the tableau is broken by Helix.

The Chief Medical officer orders them all to their dinner, placing himself between Cody and the others, arms folded. He stares them all down, until they trickle away, each one looking behind them at their Vod as they go. Wooley is the last to leave, and goes to reach out for Cody before Helix hisses at him. Wooley slopes off with a worried gaze, and finally, Cody and Helix are alone.

Helix turns to Cody, and watches him carefully through the reflection. It’s several minutes before Cody managed to look away from that blue, blue eye and meet Helix’s own regulation golden-brown pair.

Helix’s face is firm, but not angry. He looks at Cody. There’s no pity, or condemnation, he is simply there.

It helps Cody find himself again, in amongst the echoes of the Kaminoans in his head. He takes a deep breath in time with Helix’s own, and closing his eyes, turns away from the mirror.

He only opens them again when he’s turned completely away, and, standing straight-backed and proud, he faces Helix, waiting for his vod to lead him to the medical bay for decommissioning.

——

Obi-Wan hasn’t managed to meditate for the past hour. It’s not for lack of trying. He’d sat on the floor, hands on his knees, eyes (mismatched, wonderful eyes) closed that whole time. His legs are numb; he’s not entirely sure he can get up at this point, and frankly, he still desparately wants to go and find CC-2224 and beg him to please forgive him.

He winces as he unclenched his fist from where he’s dug his nails into his shin again. With a heavy sigh he gives up, awkwardly pulling his legs out from their crossed positions, and flopping back so he’s laid on the floor completely.

Meeting your soulmate was meant to be... The most incredible moment in your life. He’d grown up on stories of eyes meeting across rooms, drawn to each other inevitability. That first curl of colour-shift, that first warmth of knowing each other. Even Qui-Gon had spoken reverantly of it, in those moments he managed to overcome the grief and speak of Master Tahl.

Instead, Obi-Wan felt like he’d violated his soulmate.

He couldn’t help but remember those wide, frightened eyes, the hitch of fear in his soulmate’s breath. His warm brown skin had paled, even as he’d lurched forwards into the kiss.

Obi-Wan shudders, swallowing back bile.

Whatever the Kaminoans had done to the clones, his taking away CC-2224’s right to hide his eyes, to not make that soulmate bond was far, far worse.

He could feel it, delicate and frail in the center of his mind. He curled protectively around it, even as he carefully kept from touching it or strengthening the fragile thread. A soulmate bond with one who was force-sensitive could be a beautiful thing, a gentle sharing of emotions and thoughts of each other.

Obi-Wan refused to intrude upon CC-2224 anymore than he already had. He would allow himself tonight. One night to hover over it, bask in it, but careful not to touch. And tomorrow he would go to CC-2224, apologise for his over step, and seal it. It couldn’t be broken, not now it’d been allowed to form, but he could prevent it from growing any stronger, and give CC-2224 choice in this at least.

He wipes away his tears, and stared at the ceiling.

He was not meant for good things.

——

Cody stares at Helix, confused and frankly, fucking angry. They are in Helix’s office within Vode territory.

Helix has positioned them with Cody’s back to the door, and Helix facing it. He has placed Cody’s helmet in his hands, and set up a proximity alarm, so they will be alerted if anyone approaches. Helix stated he isn’t worried about Vode, that the secret will be kept by their brothers, but the fear of a nat-born inspection hangs over them even now.

Helix is a very good brother. He had spent the last hour explaining soulmates to Cody, and answering his questions. He explains that back on Kamino, those Vode pre-selected and trained to be chief medical officers had been quietly and secretly taught by Trainer Skirata exactly why they had to check their eyes every day, why they weren’t allowed to remove their helmets, why the Vode were trained to be inhuman drones when performing their duties.

Skirata had not been kind, but he had been indignant that this had been taken from them. It had been his small rebellion before he went and committed his full betrayal.

Helix told him of the Manda’s gift, the sign of the soulbond, the person who was made for Cody, and who Cody was made for. He told him that the Kaminoans had hidden this from the Vode, kept it from them for fear that their product would escape their indoctrination. He held Cody’s face and smiled, wide and proud, as he told him that this meant Cody would be loved.

At first Cody was silent, then doubtful, and then, so, so force-damned angry. So angry he shook with it, and thumped his fist on the floor, teeth clenched.

The Kaminoans took everything from them. Produced them. Trained them. Modified their bodies and mind. Gave them only identity numbers and shoddy armour. He didn’t know why this was the final straw on the pile of his resentment, but it was. He roars and bellows, Helix quiet and solid with him as he rages. The sounds of his fury echo off the walls. It isn’t long before the proximity alarm rang repeatedly.

No one enters, and Helix remains calmly sitting, waiting for Cody’s anger to settle.

Eventually, it does. But not into the weary acceptance of before. He feels something delicately warm in the core of him, and he surrounds it with calm revolution. He looks up at Helix with mis-matched eyes, and sees the same anger in him.

Together they rise, and Cody leaves the office, stepping out to the fading whispers of his brothers stood in the hallway, as they all turn to watch him. Boil and Waxer, Wooley and Longshot. So many brothers faces with halting, worried expressions.

He looks back at them, a single set of mismatched eyes within the sea of golden-brown, and tells them the truth.

——

Obi-Wan woke from troubled sleep to a sense that something had changed. For a moment, he stays lying on the floor where he’d eventually fallen asleep last night, and blinked up at the ceiling, struggling to center himself in the Force.

The oppressive fear and anxiety had been swept away by a flood of rebellion and joy. It sang through him, wardrums pounding at the heart of it. His limbs were flush with energy, his heart pounding in time with the beat. He found himself clambering to his feet, unable to resist the pull of fierce jubilance. His saber leapt to his hand, the force dancing playfully, excitedly around him, teasing him towards the door.

He walks dazedly through the hallways, following the curl of something golden dragging at his chest. His feet are bare, he wore only his sleep clothes, hair flattened from lying on the floor, and he didn’t care. He needed to find it, that wonderful bloom of warmth in the center of his mind, that proud, fierce presence that unapologetically called for him.

Blinking, he steps onto the Bridge.

The clones wore no helmets. Identical heads, with identical curled black regulation haircuts stood at their stations. The few nat-born officers were stood quietly, confused, unable to stop staring at the bared clone faces around them.

Obi-Wan could only see one.

CC-2224 stood, turned towards him, face open and proud and mismatched eyes locked with his. His hands are calmly held in the small of his back, posture military crisp. He watches Obi-Wan as he approached, until he stands infront of him, then he reaches out his right hand, placing his thumb on Obi-Wan’s cheek below his golden-brown eye.

“Cody,”

Obi-Wan startles, placing his own hand over the gloved one on his cheek. “What?”

Mismatched eyes crinkle nearly closed with the force of the smile on his soulmates face.

“My name is Cody.”

#star wars #the clone wars #commander cody #star wars the clone wars #obi wan kenobi #codywan #star wars fanfiction #codywan fanfic #cloneshipping #clone trooper waxer #waxer/boil

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canonicallyobserving911 · 3 months

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Buck & Eddie: Buck is looking for answers!

Before 6x15 aired, I wrote a speculation post about Buck's "Therapy Uniform vs. his date clothes" (linked here) but everyone knows how the season ended with the showrunner pulling that BS by having Eddie revert back to being a giggly high school student who acted like an 18-year-old that didn't know how to ask a woman out on a date. And Buck literally made the same mistake by sleeping with a woman he just met who only wanted one thing from him but I digress. It still pisses me off, so I won't revisit it.

Also, I did a post after 6x13 aired (linked here) about Buck finding the answers (Eddie and Chris) because when he said he was the guy with the answers, he looked at Eddie.

Anyway, after TM (showrunner, GLAD HE'S BACK so KR can kick rocks and go write an episode) released more cryptic Buck, Eddie and Chris pictures at dark o'clock Saturday night or Sunday morning (depending on your time zone), I revisited my theory about Buck's therapy uniform but now I've revised it. He does wear one but the reason he does is a lot narrower in scope. Even though I still believe he wears specific colors or a "uniform" per say for certain things, I realized after doing some analysis that whenever he wears a Gold/Bronze/Burnt Orange/Dark Orange or a Brown shirt with navy-blue or dark colored pants, he's LOOKING FOR ANSWERS!

That's the difference between my original post and this one and I have photos from each episode to prove my updated theory. Before I delve into this, I need to mention there are two pictures from season 6 that contain the colors but BE WARNED, the pictures included deal specifically with the COUCH METAPHOR 🙄🙃. I know, I know... the season ended with Buck asking ND to help him find a couch but full disclosure, after I started working through my frustration with the way the season ended by writing a huge fanfic, I took a closer look at their whatever the hell they were doing (it wasn't a relationship) and I don't think it was meant to be interpreted that way. I won't go into it here in my CANON posts but if you want to know my thoughts on it, I've included them in my love for FANON writing in my multi-chapter fanfic titled "I'm still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!".

Now, let's get into this topic and review Buck's looking for answers uniform.

In 4x2, Buck was looking for ANSWERS from Dr. Copeland and he said, "I think you were right when you said I hide my true feelings from others".

In 4x3 Buck told Maddie and Chimney he was seeing a therapist to help him find the ANSWERS and he started to find them but then everything went to $hit when the Buckley parents showed up.

In 4x4, Buck showed up at Maddie's and Chimney's apartment looking for ANSWERS about his parents and that's when he found out about Daniel.

In 4x8, Buck was lost and trying to find ANSWERS because guess who started dating again? EDDIE! And he was getting ready to introduce AF to Chris but Chris got upset and ran away and took an Uber to Buck's loft.

In 4x11, Buck and TK were FRIENEMIES (not friends even though he believed they were) so he contacted her and asked her for help because he wanted to find the ANSWERS regarding who hit Sue Blevins and ran.

In 4x14, Buck wore his "looking for ANSWERS" uniform twice and BOTH TIMES his quest involved Eddie! The first time was when he was packing more clothes to go to Eddie's house so he could keep taking care of Chris. That's when he got the call from AF after TK kissed him and ran so I've included two pictures so his shirt can be seen better while he's sitting at Eddie's beside. He was looking for answers about Eddie being shot in front of him and his heart being ripped out of his chest when it happened.

The second time he was looking for ANSWERS, he was in the hospital talking to Eddie during THE WILL REVEAL! 🤪😜

In 5x3, Buck was once again looking for ANSWERS about his relationship but reminder, he went home to an empty loft after he told Eddie during the blackout to break up with AF🤪.

In 5x4, he was looking for ANSWERS about Maddie and why she left him again even though she promised him she wouldn't in 3x16. Did she tell him she was leaving, YES! But reminder, she didn't tell him where she was going and all he told Chimney was "It's what she does, leave".

In 6x1, at the end of the episode, Buck was looking for ANSWERS again but this time it was about his couch or the lack thereof. At the beginning of the episode, he cooked dinner for him and his Diaz boys and they made fun of him for not having one even though THEY WERE SITTING RIGHT THERE IN FRONT OF HIM. He missed the fact that they were waiting for him and had been since he broke up with TK and he still didn't get it. The picture shows Buck carrying his armchair (which is the same color of the shirt he wears when he's looking for answers) and he moved it to where his couch once sat.

In 6x4, Buck was looking for ANSWERS again when he was trying to decide if he should be Connor's sperm donor.

In 6x12, Buck was lying on the couch looking for ANSWERS about his death but reminder, the color of the couch is close to the color of his armchair but it's hard to see. He's wearing a navy-blue t-shirt while lying on that uncomfortable orange couch his mother bought even though he told her HE'D FIND ONE ON HIS OWN.

In 6x15, Buck was looking for ANSWERS about the fact that he died but ND was fangirling over him so hard that he LIKED the attention she was giving him then he said that Bull$hit to Eddie about her seeing him and Buck and Eddie went back to making the same mistakes. Eddie let people (**cough** Pepa and **cough** Bobby) tell him he should date instead of finding his own way. And Buck tried to make another woman like him when in fact all she wanted was his "Firehose".

In 6x17, he was still looking for ANSWERS but this time it was answers regarding how to calculate the tip at the bar he took ND to and that's when LD showed up and insinuated, they hooked up when she knows they didn't. Reminder, Buck could only do math when he was with Eddie and Chris and the firefam but he couldn't calculate $hit when he was on a date with ND🤪🙃😁😉.

Finally, in Season 7 (TM didn't specify which episode the scene below will appear in his cryptic post), Buck's wearing his LOOKING FOR ANSWERS colored shirt again. The color pants he's wearing while he sits on Chris' bed can't be seen but based on 6x13 when Chris wanted Buck to give him the answers to his math homework and since Chris is clearly doing homework in the picture, it's possible he's asking Buck to help him but he doesn't have the answers anymore because his special skills wore off after 6x13 which just so happened to be the episode the Buckley-Diaz family was together 90% of the time.

What, if anything, does all this mean? I'm not speculating but will Buck finally find the answers in Season 7 or will it be more of the same, him looking for answers while Eddie tries to make another relationship work with someone he doesn't want to be with or will Buck and Eddie finally TALK about all their traumas and confess how much they love each other? Only TM, the producers and the actors know the answers to that question.

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absolutebl · 8 months

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I've just started watching Thai BLs and I don't know which ones would be worth getting thru the bad acting. Could you please recommend me some? xo

20 Thai BL's With GREAT Acting

Laws of Attraction

Moonlight Chicken (review here)

Not Me (review here)

Until We Meet Again (discussion here)

Bad Buddy (review here)

A Tale of Thousand Stars

Love By Chance

He's Coming to Me

The Eclipse

My Ride (review here)

Step By Step (review here)

My School President

Bed Friend (review here)

Dark Blue Kiss (PeteKao watch guide here)

Make a Wish

My Only 12%

Never Let Me Go

Theory of Love

Dear Doctor, I'm Coming For Your Soul (review here)

Triage (review here)

Love Sick is also pretty special but it's very long and complicated and kinda a steep buy in. But if you are of the Degrassi Jr High inclination...

You might also want to try I Told Sunset About You. It wasn't for me but is for LOTS of super fans of high quality BL.

From the tone of the question I am assuming we are going with a a western value judgement which prioritizes grittiness and subtlety.

Here's more stuff for you to explore if you're interested.

(Many of these will not have been updated with 2023)

Here's me talking about western struggles with Thai language and acting style:

Here's the master post on Thai BL

Not specifically Thai but here's my:

10 Best BL All Rounders - acting, script, music, narrative, production

(source)

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ranchthoughts · 9 months

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The GMMTV Kissing Multiverse, an Update

EDITED: Hey everyone - update posted here! Follow along with all updates at the tag here

Hello everyone! Thank you all for your help with the GMMTV Kissing Multiverse project so far. I thought I would give an update.

The first draft is here.

Rules

Must be lip to lip contact

Must be shown on screen in a GMMTV tv series (no kisses from ads, promotional content, etc.)

Poll Update

I enlisted all of your help deciding if the WaiKorn sorta kiss from the Bad Buddy x ATOTS Our Skyy 2 episodes actually involved lip touching and if the HeartLiMing kiss from Moonlight Chicken should be included.

The results are in: you voted that Jimmy and Drake's lips do NOT touch, therefore their kiss will be NOT be counted in this project. The HeartLiMing poll resulted in an exact tie (!!!) so I am here to be the tie breaker - upon careful review, if we don't see the lips touch, the kiss doesn't count (I think that will be easier for decision-making in the long run). Therefore, the HeartLiMing kiss will NOT be counted in this project. Thanks everyone for participating!

Breakdown by Show

So far, I have looked at 47 individual shows (in brackets is the short-form I've been using):

A Boss and a Babe (ABAAB): Book/Force, Fluke Pusit/Ohm Thipakorn

An Eye for an Eye (AEDAE): Dao Phimthong/Ohm

A Tale of a Thousand Stars (ATOTS): Earth/Mix

Bad Buddy (BB): Nanon/Ohm

Be My Favourite (BMF): Gawin/Krist

'Cause You're My Boy (CYMB): Drake/Frank

Cupid's Last Wish (CLW): Earth/Mix

Dark Blue Kiss (DBK): New/Tay, Gawin/Pod

Dirty Laundry (DL): Film/Nanon

Double Savage (DS): Film/Ohm, Film/Perth

Enchante: Book/Force

Enigma: Prim/Namtan, Prim/Win

F4: Bright/Tu

Friendzone: AJ/Plustor, Nat/Singto, Plustor/Singto, Aye/Apple

Fish Upon the Sky (FUTS): Phuwin/Pond, Louis/Neo

He's Coming to Me (HCTM): Ohm/Singto, Ohm/Gigie

Hidden Agenda (HA): Dunk/Joong

Mama Gogo (MMGG): Drake/Ciize, Joss/Gigie, Lee/Cris

Midnight Museum (MM): Bright/Pat Chayani, Nanon/View

Moonlight Chicken (MLC): Earth/Mix, Earth/Papang, First/Mix

My Dear Loser (MDL): Namtan/Sing

My School President (MSP): Fourth/Gemini, Satang/Winny

Never Let Me Go (NLMG): Chimon/Phuwin, Phuwin/Pond

Not Me (NM): Film/Gun, Film/Mond, First/Gawin, Gun/Off

Only Friends (OF): so far... Drake/Neo, Neo/Mark Pakin, Book/Force [only counting the ones we have seen so far - so this is going to change!!]

P.S. I Hate You (PS IHY): Guy Sivakorn/Papang, Jan/Lee, Jan/Pearwah

Star in my Mind (SIMM): Dunk/Joong, Dunk/Pepper

Sky in your Heart (SIYH): Mek/Mark Jiruntanin

Slam Dunk: Drake/Sing

SOTUS: Krist/Singto

The Eclipse (Eclipse): First/Khaotung, Louis/Neo

The Gifted (Gifted): Namtan/Lee

The Jungle (Jungle): Krist/Lee, Krist/Lookjun, Lee/Mook, Lookjun/Off, Mild/Nanon, Nanon/Punpun

The Player (Player): Chimon/Namtan

The Shipper (Shipper): First/Ohm, First/Prigkhing

Theory of Love (TOL): Gun/Off, Gun/Boom, Nok/Off

Turn Left Turn Right (TLTR): Nanon/Puimek

Tonhon Chonlatee (Tonhon): Khaotung/Pod

UMG: Nanon/Namtam

Vice Versa (VV): Jimmy/Sea

Warp Effect (Warp): Ciize/Sing, Fluke Pusit/Gigie, Fluke Pusit/Thor, Gigie/Guy Sivakorn, Jan/Silvy, Mark Pakin/Best, New/Fah, New/Fluke Pusit, New/Gigie, New/Silvy

Waterboyy: Earth/New

2gether: Bright/Win

Still 2gether: Bright/Win, Mike/Toptap

3 Will Be Free (3WBF): Joss/Tay, Joss/Mild, Mild/Tay

55:15 Never Too Late (55:15): Arm/View, Khaotung/Pawin

10 Year Ticket (10 YT): Ohm/Tu

Breakdown by actor

I currently have 66 actors whose kisses I have recorded (a moment of thought for Aou, Gunsmile, and White who are listed on my spreadsheet but don't actually have any kisses listed yet).

Men

AJ: Plustor (Friendzone)

Arm: View (55:15)

Book: Force (ABAAB, Enchante, OF)

Bright: Tu (F4), Pat Chayani (MM), Win (2gether)

Chimon: Phuwin (NLMG), Namtan (Player)

Drake: Frank (CYMB), Ciize (MMGG), Neo (OF)

Dunk: Joong (HA, SIMM), Pepper (SIMM)

Earth: Mix (ATOTS, CLW, MLC), Papang (MLC), New (Waterboyy)

First: Mix (MLC), Gawin (NM), Khaotung (Eclipse), Ohm (Shipper), Prigkhing (Shipper)

Fluke Gawin: Krist (BMF), Pod (DBK), First (NM)

Fluke Pusit: Ohm Thipakorn (ABAAB), Thor (Warp), Gigie (Warp), New (Warp)

Force: Book (ABAAB, Enchante, OF)

Fourth: Gemini (MSP)

Gemini: Fourth (MSP)

Gun: Film (NM), Off (NM, TOL), Boom (TOL)

Guy Sivakorn: Papang (P.S. IHY), Gigie (Warp)

Jimmy: Sea (VV)

Joong: Dunk (HA, SIMM)

Joss: Gigie (MMGG), Mild (3WBF), Tay (3WBF)

Khaotung: First (Eclipse), Pod (Tonhon), Pawin (55:15)

Krist: Gawin (BMF), Singto (SOTUS), Lee (Jungle), Lookjun (Jungle)

Lee: Cris (MMGG), Jan (P.S. IHY), Namtan (Gifted), Krist (Jungle), Mook (Jungle)

Louis: Neo (FUTS, Eclipse)

Mark Pakin: Neo (OF), Best (Warp)

Mark Jiruntanin: Mek (SIYH)

Mek: Mark Jiruntanin (SIYH)

Mike: Toptap (2gether)

Mix: Earth (ATOTS, CLW, MLC), First (MLC)

Nanon: Ohm (BB), Film (DL), View (MM), Mild (Jungle), Punpun (Jungle), Puimek (TLTR), Namtan (UMG)

Neo: Louis (FUTS, Eclipse), Drake (OF), Mark Pakin (OF)

New: Tay (DBK), Fah (Warp), Fluke Pusit (Warp), Gigie (Warp), Silvy (Warp)

Off: Gun (NM, TOL), Lookjun (Jungle), Nok (TOL)

Ohm Thipakorn: Fluke Pusit (ABAAB)

Ohm: Dao Phimthong (AEFAE), Nanon (BB), Film (DS), Singto (HCTM), Gigie (HCTM), First (Shipper), Tu (10 YT)

Papang: Earth (MLC), Guy Sivakorn (P.S. IHY)

Pawin: Khaotung (55:15)

Pepper: Dunk (SIMM)

Phuwin: Pond (FUTS, NLMG), Chimon (NLMG)

Pod: Gawin (DBK), Khaotung (Tonhon)

Pond: Phuwin (FUTS, NLMG)

Satang: Winny (MSP)

Sea: Jimmy (VV)

Sing: Namtan (MDL), Drake (Slam Dunk), Ciize (Warp)

Singto: Nat (Friendzone), Plustor (Friendzone), Ohm (HCTM), Krist (SOTUS)

Tay: New (DBK), Joss (3WBF), Mild (3WBF)

Thor: Fluke Pusit (Warp)

Toptap: Mike (2gether)

Win: Prim (Enigma), Bright (2gether)

Winny: Satang (MSP)

Women

Aye: Apple (Friendzone)

Best: Mark Pakin (Warp)

Ciize: Drake (MMGG), Sing (Warp)

Cris: Lee (MMGG)

Fah: New (Warp)

Film: Nanon (DL), Ohm (DS), Perth (DS), Gun (NM), Mond (NM)

Gigie: Ohm (HCTM), Joss (MMGG), Fluke Pusit (Warp), Guy Sivakorn (Warp), New (Warp)

Jan: Lee (P.S. IHY), Pearwah (P.S. IHY), Silvy (Warp)

Lookjun: Off (Jungle), Krist (Jungle)

Mild: Nanon (Jungle), Joss (3WBF), Tay (3WBF)

Mook: Lee (Jungle)

Namtan: Prim (Enigma), Sing (MDL), Lee (Gifted), Chimon (Player), Nanon (UMG)

Prigkhing: First (Shipper)

Prim: Namtan (Enigma), Win (Enigma)

Silvy: Jan (Warp), New (Warp)

Tu: Bright (F4), Ohm (10 YT)

View: Nanon (MM), Arm (55:15)

Figures and Discussion Section

Our leaders as of now for "most different pairs kissing in one show" are:

Warp Effect (10 pairs)

The Jungle (5 pairs)

Friendzone and Not Me (4 pairs)

Only Friends (3 pairs [so far 👀])

Mama Gogo, Moonlight Chicken, P.S. I Hate You, and 3 Will Be Free (3 pairs)

2. Jojo has an... outsized impact on the number of kissing pairs. He directed 5 of the top 9 shows with the most different kissing pairs - and roughly 17% of all the shows analyzed - but his shows contain about 30% of kisses present in the data set (note: I am just looking at kissing pair iterations here not at unique kissing pairs, e.g., Phuwin/Pond are a pair in two shows (once in a Jojo show and once in a non-Jojo show), so they are counted twice. Otherwise I would have to think about in what show/under which director a kissing pair first originated, how many different shows/directors they've kissed under... this section is mostly a quick exercise in showing how Jojo has a lot of different kissers in his shows so I'm not trying to be that statistically accurate.)

The median number of "different kissing pairs per show" of a Jojo show is 3.38, compared to a median of only 1.69 "different kissing pairs per show" in non-Jojo shows.

3. There were more same gender kissing pairs than mixed gender kissing pairs, though not by much. This may also reflect the data set used (I know I am more familiar with QLs than het GMMTV shows)

4. Our leaders for actors with the "most kissing partners" so far are:

Nanon (7 people)

Ohm (6 people)

First, Lee, New, Film, Gigie, and Namtan (5 people each)

Krist, and Fluke Pusit (4 people)

Bright, Drake, Earth, Fluke Gawin, Gun, Joss, Khaotung, Neo, Off, Sing, Tay, Jan, and Mild (3 people each)

Bonus! Which of the GMMTV boys has kissed the most men?

First and Singto are tied for the win (4 each)

Then Earth, Fluke Gawin, Khaotung, Krist, Neo, and Ohm (3 each)

Then Drake, Dunk, Fluke Pusit, Gun, Mix, New, Papang, Phuwin, and Tay (2 each)

Thanks to all those who contributed!!: @airenyah, @alsoran, @bengiyo, @burnmyself, @catboykacchan, @catsundmaus, @chickenstrangers, @crowie, @dribs-and-drabbles, @jeonghanurl, @kpinhiding, @lurkingshan, @maibpenrai, @nieves-de-sugui, @non-binarypal7, @sollucets, @userneos, @tiistirtipii, @waitmyturtles, @williamrikers, @zeesqueere

and @blmpff asked to be tagged in updates!

#gmmtv multiverse #kissing multiverse #still accepting submissions if you see anything I've forgotten from GMMTV's long history #and stay tuned for how Only Friends changes things...

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pupkou · 11 months

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my brain is rotting over chubby dilf osamu - just imagine him sitting in a cosy armchair, reading a newspaper with a cup of coffee in his hand, his glasses perched on the end of his nose as he watches you above his glasses,,,,

yeah >_< !!!! >_< !!!! >_< !!!!

afab reader + chubby dilf osamu

he’s sitting in his armchair in some soft gray sweatpants and a dark navy blue t shirt that hugs his hairy, soft stomach so nicely and fits nice around his biceps and a pair of crew socks that are soft and cozy for him >_< the colors look so pretty next to his dark arm hair and the salt and pepper stubble that grows lightly on his face >_< and you know that if you pushed up his shirt, you’d see his tummy and chest covered in fuzzy dark hair, so pretty and soft for you >_<

he’s got his reading glasses on so he can read his newspaper and see all the raving reviews about onigiri miya and how they can’t believe it’s stayed good for this long (osamu can believe it) (he does all the work, damn it!), and so he’s smiling a little while he reads >_<

he sips his coffee, which you made for him and set on his bedside table with a splash of cream just like u know he likes >_< he kissed u with morning breath but you hadn’t minded ofc because he never tastes bad <3 but he sees you coming near him now and pretends to be engrossed in his reading so that you have to speak up for what you want >_<

you come to stand right between his legs and fold down the newspaper so he can see you and he smiles as soon as he sees you, eyes crinkling with his happiness as he sees you before he goes “well hi there angel, whaddya need?”

it’s mid-morning, so everything feels soft and comfy and warm and osamu is just so handsome and he makes you feel like you’re going to explode, and so you can’t help but ask “just wanted to see if you wanted to take care of me, samu, but only if you want to..”

he folds up his newspaper and sets it on the table next to his chair so he can grab your hips and pull you closer to him, resting his chin on you and looking up at you from where he sits.

“how can i take care of you, pretty? what do you need?” he says, voice still a little heavy and rough from sleeping even though you know he’s asking for a confession

“need you to eat me out, please,” you ask, trying not to feel embarrassed as you run your fingers through his hair like you’re petting him before you go to scratch at the back of his head like he’s a puppy. he likes that, and pushes his head into your hand at the feeling <3

“of course, baby,” osamu sighs, already swooning at how he knows you’re going to taste (“y’taste so fucking good, baby”) as he takes off his glasses and sets them on top of the folded newspaper. “let’s go get comfy in bed again so i can help you, sweetheart.”

he doesn’t mind if his coffee gets cold; there are more important sweet things to tend to.

@arachn1dfrommars @professionalreblogs @transchainsawman @falloutkeiji @bunny-xoxo hiiiii ^_^

#knight answers #house guest: henry 💕#c.osamu #osamu miya smut #hq smut #haikyuu smut #miya osamu smut #haikyuu!! smut #osamu miya x trans reader #osamu miya x ftm reader #osamu miya x reader #hq x trans reader #haikyuu x trans reader

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waitmyturtles · 11 months

Text

Pain, Suffering, and Narratives in Some Asian Dramas/BLs (An Utterly Un-Scholastic, Highly Personal Big Meta)

I’ve been meditating on the topic of pain and suffering in dramas over the last few weeks, as conversations across Tumblr have been taking place regarding the success (or not) of the Our Skyy 2 x Bad Buddy x A Tale of Thousand Stars episodes. I can’t help but connect these thoughts to some of the fabulous older shows I’ve been watching in my Old GMMTV Challenge watchlist project, where I’m catching up on older Thai BLs in order to better understand the fabulous works that we’re seeing airing now. This Big Meta in part comes out of my having just watched He’s Coming To Me and Dark Blue Kiss, but I was also very deeply inspired by a Japanese BL that many of us here have fallen in love with, Our Dining Table, that features a poignant moment recognizing that feeling pain is a necessity in feeling love for another person -- that accepting pain and suffering is a part of the life we decide to live, from an Asian cultural perspective.

I’m using some big generalities here, so let me explain where I’m coming from. During certain large portions of my life, I’ve explored either becoming a Buddhist, or at least practiced Buddhism, particularly Zen Buddhism. While the world of Western capitalism has unfortunately taken up the majority of my current time/life, I do still have a desire to learn more about the history of Buddhism and try to incorporate some kind of practice in my daily life.

The reason why I offer that caveat is that a core of teaching in at least the spaces of Buddhism that I’ve been privy to, is the recognition of pain and suffering in one’s life. Suffering is a core tenet of Buddhism, one of the Four Noble Truths, and one that a human being does good deeds or makes merit in light of (as we see quite often in our beloved BLs) in order to receive “good” karma for a happy existence in this life or the next. (Again, mad generalizations here, but you get the point.)

I’ve been thinking about this because I often wonder if us Western viewers (I count myself as one, as an Asian-American) are too demanding for linear, clean, direct, and/or happy communication, narratives, and endings, particularly in the realm of Asian BLs, in regards to either romantic love and/or love from one’s nuclear parents/family. I think about this very much in the context of the Asian BL genre, where queerness -- as accepted, OR NOT, in Asian societies, friend groups, and families -- may indicate an existence that is not necessarily a happy one.

There are other issues by way of demands from fans that often determine the outcome of a BL script, such as shipper demands for overtly sexual content. What I’m proposing here is that, in my opinion, some of the best dramas/BLs from Asia are rooted in a reflection and acceptance of the tenets of suffering as a natural part of Asian life and, subsequently, Asian art. I further propose that because of that acceptance of suffering, that we — Western viewers — are often left potentially feeling unsatisfied or unfulfilled by a particular ending of a drama. I posit that the linear/binary/clear outcomes that Western audiences so often demand are limiting in comparison to the non-binary, non-linear journeys and conclusions of art that Asian filmmakers can reach in their work, vis à vis à general cultural understanding that pain and suffering are a part of daily life.

Before I give a drama example, let me use one from real life, that is so very often reflected in art: filial piety. I wrote about filial piety quite a bit in my reviews of Double Savage, a non-BL from Thailand that focused on the plight of a discarded son who was judged by his father as a jinx.

When I try to explain to Western friends that Asian parental love is very often conditional (I myself have experienced it, and my experiences mirror those of my friends), I experience a lot of denial.

“There is NO WAY your parents don’t love you.” “There is NO WAY your parents will ever give up on you. Even if they treat you badly, they love you.” “In the West, we ALWAYS end up loving our children. That’s what society demands of PARENTS. We’re CONDITIONED to be like that.”

A major cultural competency issue that Western therapists face with Asian clients is when Western therapists say to Asian clients who are having family issues, “why don’t you just talk to your parents about what you’re feeling?” Talking to Asian parents about a child’s feelings, in MANY instances, is not realistic. The language of that kind of emotion may not even exist. AND, there are unspoken social boundaries AGAINST children having those conversations with their parents in the first place. To have those conversations would very well ROCK the foundation on which Asian families are structured.

My parents may love me — the dad in Double Savage mayyyy have loved his son? — but an Asian parent like that, so rooted in their JUDGEMENT AGAINST an offspring, will often not budge. Time and time again, my Asian friends and family will talk about how they felt unloved as a child -- especially if their skin was darker, if their siblings were more successful in school, if they were a middle child, etc. VERY often, our Asian parents don’t know what us children do by way of work -- my parents don’t know anything about my work, for instance.

The Western perspective and social demands for a STYLE of loving one’s children in a very particular, involved, and empathic way -- those cultural expectations don’t necessarily exist in Asia. So we see parents like, say, Non’s father in Dark Blue Kiss; or Korn’s father in Double Savage; or ESPECIALLY Uea’s mom in Bed Friend, a fantastic example of an Asian parent who takes PERSONALLY every aspect of her son’s social and sexual “differences,” blames him for those differences, and accuses him of ruining HER life vis à vis how he was born to be the way that he is.

And yet, at least for Korn and Uea -- we see those children, for the majority of their dramas, continuing to devote themselves to their parents. Because filial piety -- the Asian cultural and social demand for RESPECTING one’s parents above all else -- is existent and EXPECTED of almost EVERY living Asian, no matter where you live on the continent or your various diasporas.

The equation is: even if you suffer at the hands of your parents, even if you don’t receive unconditional love and empathy from your parents, you must sacrifice in order to respect and serve your parents. You can imagine how much therapy even one individual would need to process that -- if that individual even ALLOWED themselves to think about what was happening, which oftentimes doesn’t even happen.

I’m not saying that filial piety EQUALS suffering. What I’m saying is that the practice of filial piety will almost always ASSUME a level of suffering that one must undertake to participate in the practice of honoring one’s parents.

Where I felt this *assumption* most strongly and recently was in my viewings of three Aof Noppharnach shows: He’s Coming To Me, Dark Blue Kiss, and Our Skyy 2 x Bad Buddy x A Tale of Thousand Stars, but I think Double Savage and Bed Friend also fall into this category as well. Very quickly:

1) HCTM was rooted in storytelling around the practice of Thai-Chinese Buddhism. Thun’s suffering was apparent: he was fatherless, he was gay, and could see ghosts. AS WELL, Med’s suffering was that he didn’t know how he had died, and why he was being held in purgatory before moving on to his next life.

2) Dark Blue Kiss was rooted in internalized homophobia. My big review of DBK is coming next week, but quickly, between the two main couples (PeteKao and SunMork), you had internalized homophobia playing various roles of emotional INTERPLAY, that AFFECTED the external emotional demonstrations of the character -- particularly in Pete, who was viscerally working on becoming a calmer person, but was triggered by Kao’s internalized homophobia to not be open about their relationship, and Pete’s jealousy subsumed him. DBK is the only show I’m mentioning here that has a clean happy ending for all couples involved, but more on that in a second.

3) OS2 x BBS x ATOTS, on the Pat and Pran side, was rooted in a clear but indirect conflict between Pat and Pran about openness and independence. If Pat and Pran had been open about their relationship (à la Pete and Kao) -- would Pat have needed to sound tough to his engineering friends that Pran *depended* on Pat to close loops? And on the Tian and Phupha side -- there is plenty we don’t know about Phupha’s past to make judgements, but I think it’s safe to say that he grew up in such a rural environment in Thailand as to make him assume that coming out and meeting his partner’s parents was an non-reality for the majority of their relationship, until the end of the OS2 series. The journey to get to the point of the ring was a tough one, particularly for Tian, who wanted more openness.

4) Both Double Savage and Bed Friend seem to end happily, especially for Uea and King in Bed Friend. But: Uea loses his parent. Yes -- he NEEDED to lose his mom, because of how toxic she was. But from an Asian family structure perspective -- he only has his sister by the end of that traumatic journey, which is not necessarily an IDEAL or complete ending. The bonds among Korn, Win, and Rung are permanently affected by the behavior of Korn and Win’s dad in Double Savage. The ending is a copacetic one -- they have survived, and will learn to survive together, after all the trauma they have lived through. But it’s not necessarily a HAPPY one. Both of these endings do not necessarily reflect the holistic ideal of the Asian family structure.

I emphasize all of this because, as I said earlier: I think a Western demand to CLOSE LOOPS in Asian dramas is unrealistic.

In Asian life (big generalization, but let me roll with it): you are angry at your parents, and you process it internally, very often without any help, and after a couple days, things go back to the way they were. The children do not demand change from their parents.

In OS2 x BBS, what I DIDN’T SEE -- and, from this framework, what I argue that I DIDN’T *NEED* TO SEE -- were any clarifying conversations between Pat and Pran about how either of them would CHANGE for their relationship. The biggest confession we got was Pat telling Pran, “without you, there is no me,” and Pran quietly agreeing (thank you to @lurkingteapot and @dimplesandfierceeyes for the incredible post on the improved translation of “I can’t live without you”).

But throughout the episodes, we saw their existence together, and arguably, their conditions -- how each of them has organized himself to comport to the other’s immediate needs. How Pran’s larger burden of keeping in the closet to keep his nuclear family structure stable kept them from being totally out, and how Pran designed fibs to be able to have at least one public demonstration of love between him and Pat on stage. They know they cannot solve intergenerational trauma in the span of a series. They’re still closeted two years later. And throughout all of this: how Pat digests Pran’s needs, and keeps his (Pat’s) own needs for openness at bay. We know he feels pain, too, when he makes his confession to Pran in Pha Pun Dao. We know he’s watching Pran as Pran hesitates to put on the bruise cream.

I feel that Pat’s acceptance of this existence is both heart-rending and utterly beautiful from the perspective of seeing Aof’s work as *Asian* art. I feel like, as an Asian, that I KNOW, that PAT KNOWS, what Pran has to lose. Pran has A LOT to lose. And so, Pat -- instead of demanding for outing and openness -- will hold what Pran needs him to hold. He knows when Pran is grumpy, and needs to be grumpy. And Pran’s got a lot to deal with. He’s got so much that he’ll need to go to Singapore, likely to get separation from his mother -- and that will result in him and Pat being separated (and I’m intentionally not analyzing Pran’s need for space from Pat here, but I think we can safely argue that, too, as Pat’s helpful attitude may smother Pran at times) (and there’s also the issue of the nuclear pain that Pat himself may feel at losing trust in his father for his father’s past foibles).

After the OS2 episodes, I didn’t need to know THE REASONS, the stark REASONING for why Pran needed to go to Singapore -- because, indirectly, it was already very clear to me that these young men were already holding tremendous burdens. Singapore, for Pran AND for Pat, could have ultimately been a motivator for growth. But I don’t need to know this. All I know is that they continue to have various levels of pain that they will be dealing with in their nascent adult lives.

While Dark Blue Kiss ULTIMATELY had happy endings -- how it got there was PAINFUL. Kao was ROOTED in fear that he would upend his family’s stability, while being the breadwinner. He was held back by extremely traditional role expectations of an older son. And he had no communication with his mother about straying from those roles. Pete’s dad served as the first -- and, I’d argue, maybe BL’s first -- paradigm-breaker as a parent, being SO open about his son’s queerness as to encourage healthy sex practices. But what I argue in this thesis is that up until the very last, bitter end, Kao was relegated to ASSUME that he would live in pain. His expectation was that Pete would ride with him. Pete couldn’t take it anymore and bubbled over. And Kao was forced to make a decision, for Pete’s sake, literally, to BE open, and to save the relationship. That shit ain’t easy.

Lots of folks who have read my posts on this site know that I appreciate a good Asian drama rooted in family and/or community trauma, like 10 Years Ticket. It’s the way in which Asian filmmakers depict this trauma that speaks very much to my life, my culture, and my viewpoint on what’s realistic in this world, and how that reality can be depicted in art. What I’ve found in watching Asian dramas is... I don’t always want clean endings. I don’t always want loops closed.

Sometimes, Asian kids can’t talk to their parents (Pran, Kao). If you grow up like that, you don’t immediately learn the language of intimacy for your family members, your friends, your lovers (Pran’s struggles after BBS/ep5, Thun’s coming out and not knowing the words for it). It might be EASY, or culturally UNQUESTIONABLE, to not argue with your parents about the ways in which they engage with their children (Korn, Win, Pran). Sometimes, to make a break in order to survive, you need to leave a toxic family member behind, which is NOT an ideal scenario (Uea).

Sometimes, you lose the love of your life (Ueda-san in Our Dining Table). Sometimes, you fall in love with someone — and you find that you can’t *exist* without them (Pat to Pran). And you have to live with the pain. I might even posit that the risk of that pain makes the love you have, either for the person living or the person passed, that much more meaningful to you.

I watch Asian dramas because I don’t feel like Asian filmmakers are subject to the Western demand to clean up all emotionally questionable loose ends. This is not When Harry Met Sally. Harry and Sally should have only remained friends, and not gotten married -- even Nora Ephron and Rob Reiner knew that -- but they also realized that Western audiences would not accept such an ending.

“The script initially ended with Harry and Sally remaining friends and not pursuing a romantic relationship because she felt that was "the true ending", as did Reiner. Eventually, Ephron and Reiner realized that it would be a more appropriate ending for them to marry, though they admit that this was generally not a realistic outcome.”

If I don’t get clean clarity in Asian dramas, I’m okay with it. My mind switches to the pain POV, that relativity mindset. Everyday life in Asian cultures can handle the weight of the painful and sufferable unknown. And that’s why I love these shows.

And, OF COURSE, not ALL Asian dramas are like this! Cherry Magic ended wonderfully. Old Fashion Cupcake ended beautifully. KinnPorsche ended sexily, if not a little confusedly (are they related? kinda? or not? whatever?). Minato’s Laundromat ended happily -- although we’ll see their relationship pain points in the upcoming second season. And we see relationship pain points in the ongoing drama of Shiro and Kenji’s relationship in What Did You Eat Yesterday -- all while they share their happy nightly meals together at their kitchen table.

Life is complicated. I posit that Asian dramas, for my taste, satisfaction, and cultural relativity, do a much better job at depicting that complicatedness than the West can ever do, and that’s why I stand so often on my soapbox to encourage Western viewers to understand these Asian cultural touchpoints more -- to learn about how we’ve accepted pain and suffering as an automatic given in our Asian lives, from our cultures, our spiritual practices, and from living amongst each other.

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respectthepetty · 1 month

Text

Not a Review: Manner of Death - Manga Version

I got the manga versions of Manner of Death that were released in 2023, and y'all . . .

This is wild bananas! Bun has an older brother and ex-boyfriend in Bangkok even though he is in the closet and dating women as a cover. Tan is younger, has a sick mother, and he thought Jane died by suicide because she was sad he was gay. Bodies are dropping dead left and right until the very end. Sorn and That aren't even side crumbs because they are just a crumb, as in one single crumb and nothing else. Oh, and the inspector is married, to a woman.

Pretty sure it follows the novel closely, so congratulations to Screenwriter Title, who was also behind He's Coming to Me, Dark Blue Kiss, Love Stage, and Low Frequency, for condensing the novel and making the series into a BL because looking at (a version of) the source material, Title really balanced this bad boy out for the show.

Combined, the two volumes are over 500 pages, which, once again, even though they aren't the original novel, probably are close to it, and there is constantly something happening on every single page. If this is how the novel was, trimming it down to a fourteen-episode series took skill. I loved Manner of Death, but people had issue with some of the plot holes in the series. However, compared to these versions of the original novel, the show is very focused and balanced.

These two volumes are enjoyable. I'm glad I have them to add to my small manga collection of BL favorites with Old Fashion Cupcake and Our Dining Table, but this journey is a lot. Seriously, Bun walks out to the balcony after having sex with Tan on the very last page since they got engaged in New York after reconciling two pages before, and a body falls from the sky. The End.

I know Tan proposed to Bun by pretending they were being taken hostage with guns pointed at their heads in the series, but . . . it wasn't a dead body jumping out of nowhere, you know?

Now I see how Dead Friend Forever aligns with Sammon's style, which is a non-ending ending where something ends, then starts again. That also happened in Make a Wish. And I ain't mad at it! It's just a lot, all at once, constantly. But it helps me appreciation the show more. I got two gay men who never felt bad about being gay and scoffed with the inspector even suggested they were straight. I got murder-mystery and romance. And I got a settled ending with Tan and Bun married.

Oh, and I got that kiss in the very beginning.

So this isn't a review. It's an appreciation post.

Because Manner of Death, the series, is solid.

#manner of death #manga version #this was a journey #I keep opening the book in shock #bun was mean #and I didn't like it y'all!#like he fought with tan THE DAY HIS MOM DIED #AFTER NOT SPEAKING TO HIM FOR MONTHS!

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chvnnie · 2 years

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is there a possibility for the other side of rec. where the members watch the stream fully or maybe some other smut similar to the idea? ☆

LIVE!

3RACHA x reader x lee minho

part two of [rec.]

word count: 2.8k

genre: smut - MINORS DNI

warnings: voyeur 3RACHA, cam girl reader, sub!jisung, dom!minho, live streamed sex, use of toys, masturbation, dirty talk, anal, oral fixation, use of word: slut, jisung struggling with his feelings, lots of cum play and mention. if i missed anything, PLEASE LET ME KNOW

summary: something about this stream is far too familiar for comfort

a/n: when i say i started writing this the MOMENT i got this request. just thinking about how 3RACHA, but specifically jisung, would react to this made my head spin. thank you so much for this request, i hope it’s everything you wanted and more.

this is a work of fiction. this fic in no way represents bang chan, seo changbin, han jisung, or lee minho as people, or stray kids as a whole. you are responsible for the media you consume. please read responsibly.

taglist: @lix-ables (imu), @rachalixie, @whatudowhennooneseesyou, @dnadoublefelixx

Jisung fell face first on his bed, groaning from the start of the fall to the second his face hit the pillow and then some. Exhausted wasn’t a strong enough word for what he felt. His limbs were heavy, eyes barely open, mouth drooping every few minutes as his body tried to push him into a state of unconsciousness.

Man, what a day. He’s been at the company for hours, bouncing between dance practices and writing sessions, not to mention the hour-long training session he and Changbin had at about noon. It was go, go, go all day long, not even a moment to stop and breathe.

Well, maybe like, a short moment of relief. But Jisung didn’t even get to feel it - only his friends jerked off to the stream in Chan’s studio. It’s not like he didn’t want to, it was all he wanted, but he was too caught up in the way you fucked yourself to look away. He didn’t want to miss a single second of it.

Jisung’s plan was to run to an empty practice room after the stream to finish himself off, but was pulled elsewhere to run through lyrics with Seungmin. After that, he was supposed to have a meeting with Minho to review choreo, but he was nowhere to be found, so Jisung decided to call it a day.

All he wanted was sleep.

And he was so close to it, too.

His thoughts began to lose control, the scenarios in his head becoming more and more unhinged as sleep wrapped its arms around him and slowly began to tug him in-

The ping of a notification, with the added “JISUUUUNNNGGG” Changbin was belting from the living room ripped him out of the comforting arms of rest. He began to groan, again, tears of frustration and exhaustion welling in his eyes.

“SHE’S LIVE!” It was Chan this time.

Jisung reached for his phone, the bright blue lights filling his dark room.

Live Now! Tap to Tune In!

Well, he was up now.

Jisung pulled the hood of his hoodie over his head before sluggishly slinking out of his bedroom. From the living room, he could hear Chan cursing as he tried to set up the television for the stream, and Changbin telling him to go faster.

Maybe he would be better off to watch it alone in his room. Then he could at least cum in peace.

But as soon as his feet crossed the threshold into the living room, as soon as he heard your muffled moans, Jisung was frozen in place for the second time today.

The wide screen television showed you in the center, sitting between a man’s legs. All Jisung could see of your faces were your chins, and by the movements of them, he assumed the two of you were kissing. And you liked it; Jisung was sure if your lips weren’t attached to his, he would be able to hear every sound you made.

Oh, fuck, just the idea of that made him dizzy.

Jisung leaned against the archway of the living room entrance, needing to balance himself on something. Chan sat in the recliner at the very edge, hand cupping his chin while the other dug nails into his thigh. Changbin sat on the couch, slouched down with his cock already out, slowly pumping while he stayed focused on the screen.

“God, look at her.” Chan’s hand creeped up his thigh, now grasping his growing length above his sweats. “So pretty in those white panties. I bet-“

Skin colliding with skin filled the room, the sound bouncing off the walls. All three of the men’s eyes grew wide, the slap on your thigh succeeding in making them all impossibly hard.

“Look at how she squirms.” Changbin hissed as his grip tightened. “She fucking liked that-“

Changbin’s words went through one of Jisung’s ears and out the other. He was instead focused on the man in the stream. Those joggers looked familiar - the heather grey with black speckles, the logo, even the strings that tightened them looked just like a pair Jisung owned.

A pair he loaned to Minho months ago and hasn’t seen since.

It can’t be Minho. It couldn’t be Minho. Right?

“Please? Need something, anything-“

Your begs filled the living room, Chan now leaning back in the recliner as he groaned at the sound of them. He still had yet to pull his length out, tugging firmly on it over his clothing. Changbin was now alternating the speed of his fist; faster when you spoke, slower when it was silent. Jisung’s cock was suffocating in his shorts, but he couldn’t bring himself to relieve the tension. Something was eerily familiar about this, and until he figured it out, he refused to touch himself.

The man shoved his fingers in your mouth, and Jisung watched as you immediately sucked on them. Your lips curved into a smile as you gagged, and god dammit, why couldn’t he just get off?

“You can be so fucking annoying when you beg. Did you know that?”

Changbin cursed as he threw his head back, dangerously close to exploding before anything really happened. Chan was mumbling under his breath about how pretty you looked choking on the man’s fingers, wagering that you would look better with his cock down your throat.

But it was that sentence. That fucking sentence that sent Jisung over the edge.

He patted his pockets in search of his phone, shaking when he finally found it. Jisung thanked every being for autocorrect, because without it, his text would have made no sense.

Jisung: [20:04] hey, you busy?

It wasn’t much, but the sound of a ringtone on the stream was what Jisung needed.

Confirmation that it was Minho in the stream, currently ridding you of the damp material on your hips. When your core was exposed, Changbin finished in his hand. With no embarrassment, he used his cum to lubricate his cock, hissing as he made himself hard again. Chan took your lack of undergarments as permission to rid himself of his, hard cock bouncing on his abs. He mimicked the pace Minho was using in his folds, likely imagining it was his cock against your core and not those fingers.

Should Jisung tell them? He felt like they should know it’s Minho on the screen, but how would he bring it up. Hey so that stranger fucking our favorite cam girl? Yeah, that’s one of our closest friends. And, besides, right now hardly seemed like a good time to drop that bombshell on them.

“Should I fuck you with my cock, or that pretty glass dildo you used earlier?”

Both of his friends groaned simultaneously, drowning out the giggle that flooded through the speakers. Seriously, could they not tell? Were they that fucking pussy dumb not to realize?

“Ji.” Chan’s firm tone broke his concentration, making him look at his friend. “Are you really not going to touch yourself again?”

“Oh. I-um-“ His eyes floated back to the screen just in time to see you pulling Minho’s cock out. Oh my god, that’s Minho’s cock. Jisung had seen it numerous times before, but never in this setting. Never like this. How the fuck is he supposed to react? “Ma-maybe later.”

“Suit your- oh fuck.”

His eyes jumped back to the screen, jaw dropping as he watched Minho deep throat the glass toy that was in you just hours before. You had a similar expression on your face: one of disbelief, one of arousal. It was then Jisung found his hand on his cock, squeezing it over the fabric of his shorts so hard, he wouldn’t be surprised if it lost circulation.

There wasn’t much time for him to take in the sight as Minho quickly began fucking you with it. But the scene was burned into Jisung’s brain. He saw it when he blinked, cock aching for some kind of relief just thinking about it. You looked divine. Jisung had always thought that - he was the number one donor for a reason. But something about Minho made this stream so much better, and made Jisung more needy.

His head hit the doorway frame as he shoved his shorts down enough to release his cock. There was too much happening - he couldn’t stop staring at how pretty you looked with all your holes stuffed, but also couldn’t look away from Minho’s length ramming into your ass. You said something to Minho, who quickly removed his fingers to hear you better.

“Harder.”

When Minho’s pace picked up, Changbin came again. He cursed under his breath, but refused to pull away. Shirt and jeans stained in his cum, Changbin continued the rhythm his fist set as his eyes began to water with overstimulation. Chan, on the other hand, had completely stopped, back arching as he attempted to get a control over his breathing. It was almost like he was edging himself, refusing to cum until you did. And there stood Jisung, in a trance, jerking himself off in a way that felt pleasurable to him. Because he didn’t matter. He didn’t care when or if he came, only caring that you and Minho did.

“Look at me while you cum like the pretty slut you are.”

Goosebumps rose over Jisung’s skin, his entire body shivering at Minho’s words. He knew they were directed at you, but fuck, when he closed his eyes, all he could see was his friend saying it to him.

“Oh my God. Fucking cum on that dick, Jesus Christ-“ Chan cursed as he reached his breaking point, cumming hard all over himself. Changbin sobbed as he came for a third time, dropping his member as if it was on first as a small amount of semen pushed out of the tip. Both men stared at the tv, sweaty with stars in their eyes as they watched you reach your high and begin your come down.

Jisung, however, had yet to cum, and was more focused on the way Minho was smearing his across your folds. Did he always do that to you? How often did he cover you with his cum? If Jisung asked nice enough, would he do the same to him?

The stream ended as abruptly as it began.

The Stream Has Ended. “Cum” Back Next Time!

Jisung’s ears were ringing, body shaking as he attempted to take in the past thirty minutes. He was exhausted. He had no drive left, no energy to make himself cum.

But then he blinked, and a brief image of Minho cumming on his cock flash passed his eyelids, and he found himself aching all over again.

It was almost impossible to believe that the girl Jisung had wanted most just got fucked by the man he wanted the most, and he had watched the entire thing. Envy filled his chest, though he didn’t know who he was more jealous of.

“…have you, Jisung?” Changbin shook Jisung out of his thoughts, voice raw from his multiple orgasms.

“Huh? Have I, what?” Jisung was now very aware that he was the only one with his cock still out, hiding it away with still shaky hands.

“Ever seen her stream with someone else? You’ve been watching her longer than we have, so we figured you might know.”

“Oh.” Jisung found himself at a loss for words, something that rarely happened to him. No, he had never seen you stream with someone else, but this wasn’t just anyone. That was what was the most important part of this. But, did he tell them? Or did he keep it to himself?

Jisung swallowed, throat suddenly dry. He brought his palms to his eyes, rubbing the heel of it against them as he tried to collect his thoughts. Jisung rubbed and rubbed until fireworks exploded in the black abyss, drowning out all the filthy thoughts he was having about you.

About Minho.

“No.” He groaned, dropping his hands. “I haven’t.”

Changbin then turned to Chan, the two of them beginning to debrief what they just witnessed. Typically, when they watched your streams together, which was often, Jisung would stay and weigh in. For reasons only obvious to himself, he could not do that tonight, quickly retreating to his bedroom when the focus was off of him.

His bottoms were almost fully off before he even shut his bedroom door. Jisung held a fist to his mouth, whining as he began to masturbate more aggressively than he ever had before. He was desperate for a release. Desperate to be the one filling you up instead of Minho. Desperate to be the one covered in his cum instead of you.

Jisung had always hid the fact that he was head over heels for an anonymous cam girl - he didn’t even know the color of your eyes, yet would do absolutely anything for you, and you didn’t even have to ask him nicely. He had also successfully hidden his feelings for his best friend. So much so that Jisung himself wasn’t even fully aware of the grip Minho had on him. Until tonight, that is. Until he watched him fuck you in his joggers.

It felt personal. Almost like Minho wanted him to know it was him. After all, he knew Jisung never missed a stream.

“Ah, fuck, fuck.” Jisung whined, tears falling down his cheek as his high rapidly approached. He cried your name out (at least, the name that was on your profile. Who even knew if it was your real name? And yet he still acts like this.), followed quickly by Minho’s. “Please, please let me cum. Fuck, wanna-wanna-“

It was pathetic, the way he begged into his dark bedroom as if either of you were there. Yet, he still did. He felt it inappropriate to not beg for it, as if jerking off to his best friend and a stranger wasn’t bad enough.

Hot streaks of cum spurted out of him, covering his fist and thighs in the sticky substance. Jisung cried through the entirety of his orgasm, unable to stop the sad whimpers that left his lips.

Cleaning up could wait. He was so fucking exhausted.

Jisung didn’t even bother pulling his shorts up before flopping on his bed. He stared at the ceiling, chest rapidly rising and falling as he slowly began to drift off.

Sleep. Rest. That’s what Jisung needed. Just a few hours of unconsciousness, then he could address the problem of his feelings and the cum that was already beginning to dry.

His phone rang.

Of course.

Without even looking up, he pulled his phone out of his pocket, sticky hands accepting the call. Fuck, now he would have to get up and wash off, considering he could feel his cum against his cheek now. “What?”

“Wow, hello to you, too.” Minho’s playful tone flowed out of the phone speaker, echoing in Jisung’s practically hollow head. “You know, you should really answer the phone more respectfully. It makes you seem more approachable.”

“Fuck off.” Jisung mumbled, Minho chuckling at his fucked out tone. Could Minho tell? Did he know Jisung just came so hard to the thought of him? “What do you want?”

“I responded to your text, but you didn’t answer so I thought I’d call. Sorry, I was busy when you texted me but I’m not now. Did you need something?”

When he texted him? What was he-

Oh.

That.

Jisung’s eyes shot open, suddenly wide awake. Oh fuck, he forgot he had texted him. What was he going to say? What excuse could he come up when his brain was currently empty and covered in cobwebs?

“I-uh-I was just-“ Jisung sighed, deciding that he was in no state to come up with some bullshit excuse. “I forgot.”

Minho chuckled again, and Jisung could just see his stupid smirk. The menacing one he always gave when he was one step ahead, when he knew something someone else didn’t.

He fucking knew. Of course Minho fucking knew.

“Tired, Ji?” His tone was evil, condescending as he spoke. “You sound like you’ve had a rough night.”

“Just a busy day.” He was grateful this conversation was happening over the phone and not face to face. Jisung could never hide from Minho - he read him like his favorite book.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” No he fucking wasn’t. “You should get some rest, Jisung. Cumming to your best friend and his fuck buddy must really be draining if you can’t even speak without whining.”

The groan Jisung let out was pathetic, only making Minho laugh harder. “How did you know I knew?”

“You’re not stupid, Ji. Although you do look cute when you get so horny, your brain empties. Is that what you looked like tonight? Dumb and hard? Was it for me, or her?”

Jisung whimpered, not knowing how to respond. Minho had completely flipped on him - his playful tone quickly becoming demanding, and Jisung couldn’t help but want to immediately bend to his will.

When Jisung didn’t respond, Minho continued.

“You have two options. You can either pathetically jerk yourself off again, all alone in your bedroom, or-“ his phone pinged in his ear, alerting him of a text. “-you can come over and let me make both of you my little cum sluts.”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #han jisung smut #han smut #jisung smut #bang chan smut #chan smut #seo changbin smut #changbin smut #lee know smut #lee minho smut #minho smut #3RACHA smut #sub skz #dom skz

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feudalconnection · 3 months

Text

The Nomination Period for the 1st Term 2024 Inuyasha Fandom Awards is now CLOSED!!

Hey everyone!

Below the cut you'll find a complete list of all of the Fanart nominations received for this term! You can also find it on Google Docs.

Click here for the complete list of Fanfiction nominations.

Thank you to everyone who participated in this term for taking the time to do so. We hope you enjoyed your experience! If you do not see your nomination, please reach out to us as soon as possible!

We strongly encourage that when you view a work of art or read a fanfiction, please reblog or leave a review to let the creators know how much their work and talent is appreciated!

As a reminder, we are giving 3 weeks time to enjoy all of the creations. The voting period will begin February 6th and end February 20th.

In order to be able to vote, you'll need to register so we can keep it all neat and clear. We will be posting the link to the voting form on the first day of the voting session.

Got a question? Check out our FAQ or send us an ask. You can also message one of the mods directly!

Thank you to everyone who nominated for making this 1st Term absolutely wonderful, and happy voting!

Best Action/Adventure

“Versus the Demon Lord” by @amara-sessh

“Fighting some demons at night” by @marycrispies

“Tethered” by @rinshairandthoughts

Best AU/AR

“Untitled” by @florsdellunalluna

“Sense and Sensibility” by @kalcia

“Kagome the Princess of the Wolf Tribe” by @dudiinx

“Sailor Moon Crossover” by @valgreys

“Moonlight” by @dudiinx

“Untitled” by @hycopank

Best Canon Universe

“Naraku” by @lady-lin

“Keep You Safe” by @nartistadigital

“Cuddlebugs” by @feudalobo

“Casa” by @pachworldx-1

“Untitled” by @fishybehavior

Best Angst

“Untitled” by @liquidashesart

“Spirit Run” by @classysassy9791

“distance makes the heart grow fonder” by @elevenharbor

“Cupid in love” by @pachworldx-1

Best Dark

“Nextlahualtin” by @moonkissedart / MoonKissedA (AO3)

“I just want your heart” by @akulols

“Inuspiration” by @stardust414

Best Humor/Parody

“Zoomies” by @purpledemonart

“Finish him” by @generalmoony

“Untitled” by @tiroma-art

“Izayoi’s Expressions” by @tmetta

“Fish Eye Lens SessNara” by @devilatelier

“Untitled” by @mama-ino

“All Dressed Up” (art in story) by @rinafananditshows

“Get Along Shirt” by @jane-imes

Best Kiss

“Beast in the Basement” by @kalcia

“Moonlight” by @dudiinx

“Untitled” by @dekirufran

“Fireworks” by @xtaisanax

“Untitled” by @inumysuzue

Best Character

“Shippo” by @nartistadigital

“Blue Moon” by @len-barboza

“Inuyasha” by @stoneofmaya (X, formerly Twitter)

“琥珀. Kohaku.” by @toutousai

“Kagome Stained Glass” by @razdazberry

“Kouga” by @gantzfelt (X, formerly Twitter)

“InuKimi” by @anime093se

“Waiting for Him” by @alicepupurred

“Nighttime Ride” by @classysassy9791

“Untitled” by @justafewsmallsteps

Best Duo/Pairing

“KogKag romantic blizzard” by @razdazberry

“Sango and Kagome” by @fuko-sshi

“Mommy and Daughter Time” by @katballesteros

“Miroku & Sango” by @xmonday-mintx

“Destiny in their veins” by @alicepupurred

“Here’s my girls” by @justafewsmallsteps

“KaguKik” by @moonnueart

Best Doujinshi

“distance makes the heart grow fonder” by @elevenharbor

“A pupper tryin to be like her dad” by @briizer

“Family” by @heavenin--hell

“Way of the House-Demon” by @lucymorningstar257

“InuKag Week Day 6: Courting” by @jess-oui

Best Redraw

“I Understand” by @len-barboza

“Manga Redraw” by @heavenin--hell

“they were the blueprint” by @badanaday

“Inktober” by @tealybopper

“Inuyasha & Kagome redraw” by @midiatamente

Best NSFW

“Dearest” by @xtaisanax

“Red #40” by @brain-rot-hour / GoblinOnAHorse (AO3)

“Deck the Balls” by @brain-rot-hour / GoblinOnAHorse (AO3)

“Inuyasha dragon au (second picture)” by @moonkissedart / MoonKissedA (AO3)

“Fun at Sea” by @spiralofdragon

“Happy Valentine’s Day” by @jane-imes

Best InuKag Romance

“Eternal Gift” by @clearwillow / BrigidTheFae (AO3)

“Untitled” by @dellmain

“Domestic” by @rubbesart

“Untitled” by @shizuki502

“Untitled” by @actiasz

Best SessKag Romance

“the night before Christmas and there was only one bed” by @stardust414

“Untitled” by @stellesappho

“Sesskag Festival Day 1 - Rejuvenate” by @julytheartist

“Tokyo Tower” by @julytheartist

“Thy Mate” by EnchantedInk_AG (AO3)

“Sesshoumaru. I love you” by @inumysuzue

“Untitled” by @kiliinstinct

Best Romance

“kohaku & rin - they're cute together” by @elevenharbor

“KogKag romantic blizzard” by @razdazberry

“Falling for You” by @eliza-faust-diary

“KagSan” by @moonnueart

Best Group Depiction

“Overcoming the past” by @valgreys

“Baby Inu with his parents” by @eliza-faust-diary

“Un moment de tranquilitat a l'època Sengoku” by @mmezo

“inuyasha! 🌙” by @eggramenart

Best Fluff

“the night before Christmas and there was only one bed” by @stardust414

“Starry Night” by @katballesteros

“Baby Inu with his parents” by @eliza-faust-diary

“SessKag as Kids” by @ivii20

“chibi” by @ivii20

Best Overall

“His hair makes me so happy” by @devilatelier

“Kagome Stained Glass” by @razdazberry

“Thy Mate” by EnchantedInk_AG (AO3)

“Untitled” by @lilacfoxarts

“dancing in the moonlight” by @masitadibujante

“Nighttime Ride” by @classysassy9791

#feudalconnection #fc nominations #fct12024 #inuyasha #inuyasha fanart

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theguildawards · 6 months

Text

Hello guildmates!

The Nomination Period is now closed! Below the cut you will find a complete list of all the fanart nominations received for The Guild Awards this term! The mobile-friendly version can be found in a Google Doc here that has the complete list!

You can find the list of all the fanfiction nominations here!

If you do not see your nomination, or you find issues with the links, please reach out to us as soon as possible!

We are going to give you 2 weeks time to enjoy all of the pieces nominated for this term! We strongly encourage that when you view a work of art or read a fanfiction, please reblog or leave a review to let the creators know how much their work and talent is appreciated!

The voting period will begin November 15th and end November 29th midnight PST!

In order to be able to vote, you will need to login. We will be posting the link to the voting form on the first day of the voting session.

Got a question? Check out our FAQ or send us an ask!

Message one of the mods directly: @sassybratt9791 @phoenix-before-the-flame @kiliinstinct @ratretro @phoneboxfairy

Thank you to everyone who nominated for making this term absolutely wonderful and happy voting!

[please reblog to help spread the love of these amazing creators!]

FANART

Best Action/Adventure

“we illuminate the dark” by @flamedork (tumblr)

“Mirajane” by @pencilequipped (tumblr)

“Freed Day” by @moxiepoxart (tumblr/TW)

Best AU/AR

“a quick art for an AU” by @4stralfairy (tumblr)

“erza redesign” by @mousecracker (tumblr)

“Accidental Freed AU/backstory” by @intelligentbiscuit (tumblr/DA)

“Fairytail Next Generation” by @hollie-artz (tumblr)

“Dragon Erza” by @ace-of-fairytail (tumblr)

Best Canon

“Juvia piece” by @pencilequipped (tumblr)

“Happy Nalu Day 2023” by @likubears (tumblr)

Best Angst

“foolish remains of a hyacinth” by @heartonxions (tumblr/IG)

“queen of fairies” by @nalunalu (tumblr)

Best Dark

“Untitled” by @heartserion (tumblr)

“Monster” by @acnologias-ass (tumblr)

“‘You’ve become a beast’ ‘I know’” by @phoenix-before-the-flame (tumblr)

“A Mouth Full of Ridicule” by @firapolemos05 (tumblr)

Best Humor/Parody

“NaLu Winter Wonderland 2022” by @imnothereokuwu (tumblr)

“They’re guilty😔” by @lav3nder-bees (tumblr)

“Why As a Man, Are you Blond” by @butcherza (tumblr)

“Barbie Movie Tickets For Phantom Buddies” by @imyourcoopid (tumblr)

Best Kiss

“Guilty Pleasures” by @bluessom1 (tumblr)

“don’t interrupt the master’s meetings” by @castkorb (tumblr)

“Luvia” by @watcher-ofthe-sky (tumblr)

Best Romance

“A Fairy Tale of our own making” by @nalunalu (tumblr)

'Love and Other Fairy Tales’ by @heartonxions (tumblr)

“Gruvia Week” by @goodnightlover (tumblr)

Best LGBTQ+ Romance

“lucy + cana <3” by @heartserion (tumblr)

“Untitled” by @annluvazzel (tumblr)

“fraxus week day 5 - guilty pleasures / indulgences” by @lav3nder-bees (tumblr)

“Shadowlight Week Day 2: Thrill/Undress” by @oryu404 (tumblr)

Best Character

“Juvia piece” by @pencilequipped (tumblr)

“Lucy Heartfilia - Fairy Tail” by @lumen-anima (tumblr)

“when the hard work pays off (Aries)” by @burilingo (tumblr)

“Natsu Dragneel” by @anushpaint (tumblr)

“Thunder Dragon King Laxus Dreyar!!” by @wispzoa (tumblr)

Best Duo/Pairing

“Untitled” by @doubleragnarok (tumblr)

“fairy tails only(?) 2 two card mages” by @ace-of-fairytail (tumblr)

“Summer Fraxus” by @wispzoa (tumblr/TW)

“a quick art for an AU” by @4stralfairy (tumblr)

“Fight!!” by @castkorb (tumblr)

“The Blue-Haired Found Siblings” by @jerzaworms (tumblr)

Best Group Depiction

“Anniversary” by @love---mandy

“some crime sorciere pastels” by @jerzaworms (tumblr)

“Team Thunderstorm Naptime” by @pencilofawesomeness (tumblr)

“hehehe team shadowgear make brain go brrr” by @moonylilies (tumblr)

Best Manga Coloring

“Juvia” by @shuvia-lu (tumblr)

“Mashima's Twitter doodle" by @zelkams-art (tumblr)

“Sun vs. Moon” by @krn02-12 (tumblr)

Best Redraw

“I believe in you” by @imnothereokuwu (tumblr)

“Redrawing one of my favorite frames” by @sherlismyfather (tumblr)

“Cryptid Mode” by @pencilofawesomeness (tumblr)

“Jackal” by @misquitz (tumblr)

“Nalu Gruvia Jerza Redraw from Mashima’s Art” by @gymjunkie412 (tumblr)

Best Overall

“Please, accept him” by @phoenix-before-the-flame (tumblr)

“And so the lion fell in love with the lamb” by @bluessom1 (tumblr)

“Happy Gajeel Day" by @butcherza (tumblr)

“Night sovereignty” by @crowind1 (tumblr)

#fairy tail #theguildawards #ft awards #tgat22023

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alastairstom · 4 months

Text

the nature of love

Love is complex. It's a convoluted, messy web, and no one knew that like the girl with the second clockwork heart. With clever eyes as gray as her name, she looked on at those around her scrambling to grasp love's straws between world-weary fingers, trapped in a spiderweb of her own that tore her heart into two evenly-broken parts.

But love was also devastatingly simple.

She sat on the couch with her husband, meeting his bright laugh and blue gaze with a smile as he looked down at her. Her head rested against his shoulder, the stubble on his face scratchy and comforting against her skin, and suddenly she was overwhelmed by raw emotion. His warmth, his smile, his silly songs and ridiculous notions. Everything that made him Will was the perfect mesh for everything that made her Tessa, azure and slate paints stirred into the hue of a stormy sky.

She couldn't help herself. She kissed his shoulder.

Tessa Gray-eyes-and-painfully-real-emotions was not the only one who understood the devastatingly easy affection of a shoulder kiss. Her son did, too. He sat across from his wife in front of a chess board, her blazing red hair framing her shoulders in thick curls, her kind but capable mouth twisted into an expression of contemplation. She reached out one elegant hand to move her pawn before his king, and he realized with a daunting feeling that those lips were shaping the words "checkmate."

The light gleamed off the golden globe necklace around her neck, and James Herondale thought in that moment that no one could ever be as blazing as his brave Cordelia, the woman who could slay armies with nothing more than a pawn.

So he stood up to get her more chai from their kitchen, placing a hand on one of her silk-cloaked shoulders as he moved around her. When she turned to giggle, he placed a quick but heartbreaking kiss on her breathtaking shoulder.

Sometimes, though, a shoulder kiss could breathe life into another. Across London, Cordelia's brother sat before a fire with his arm intertwined around his partner's, his hamsar-am's, his breath's. The fire crackled in both dark brown and hazel irises as they quipped over the film reviews between the newspaper's black-and-white lines.

Alastair, whose inkstained fingers were getting smudges onto Thomas's arm, insisted that the ridiculous columnist simply did not see the vision of the story; Thomas, who noticed the smudges but accepted them with grace, listened to the animated brushstrokes of his voice speak in the bright, colorful hues that a film reel could not yet capture.

He spoke deeply; he spoke with feeling. There was passion there, but Thomas's heart was calm as he leaned down and kissed Alastair's shoulder with an almost devastating gentleness.

With that tenderness, Alastair stopped quibbling. Instead, he exhaled, at peace with both hands now resting on Thomas's.

Shoulder kisses were for both children and their parents, and somewhere far, far away, Thomas's mother was getting one of her own. Sophie Lightwood slept peacefully in bed, her head resting on her husband's lap as he stuck his finger in the raspberry jam on his plate. He did not like scones, never had, but he enjoyed the sweetness of the jelly as he brought it to his mouth. The explosion of flavor was a confection, a conglomeration, as complex as the idea of love was.

But Sophie slept on, and love felt easy. Love felt like peace. Much like it did for his son, love felt like home to Gideon Lightwood.

So he set the jam aside on his nightstand. He lay down beside his wife and reached out to pull her in close with still-sticky fingers. And he pressed a kiss to her shoulder before falling asleep with his face resting there, quietly and quickly, asleep but alive in all the ways that mattered.

But shoulder kisses were not only for the living.

There was a girl, once, who tried hard to forget her name, the name that her mother had told her in a hard voice between harder slaps. That monster of a woman was gone now, but she still could not get it out of her mind.

Now, she sat before a lab table, mixing chemicals and starting the fires that her love had once adored so. Sometimes, if she got a formulation perfectly, she would hear the name that she only loved on Christopher Lightwood's lips: Grace.

Sometimes, when an experiment went perfectly, she could feel the ghost of soft pressure on her shoulder. And somehow, she knew that he was there. That she was not alone, and that she was not a monster.

And some people did not even need another to give them the love that lay in a shoulder kiss. A boy with golden hair sat somewhere in South America, his arms wrapped around a mug of black coffee and his elbows resting on a copy of Dorian Gray. But he was not paying attention to any of that; he sipped idly, watching the people go by in their colorful clothes, with their bright personalities.

Hand-in-hand. Arm-in-arm. Love was simple for them in a way that it had never been for Matthew, who had felt it as bitter as his coffee.

But loving himself had proven a simple challenge that he had not foreseen conquering, so when no one was looking, he pressed his fingers to his lips and tapped the pads in the shoulders of his brocade jacket.

Many years later, Tessa Gray-skies-but-the-sun-is-coming-out did the same thing. Matthew was long gone by then, in America or China or South Africa, and her beloved Will had gone to the place where memories were silent.

She had thought there would be no more shoulder kisses, but love in all of its simplicity was also complex.

One day, it would all come back to her.

And eventually, decades later she sat on the couch of a massive manor house, one that had known many shoulder kisses from when Thomas and Alastair had made their home there. And her second husband would smile as she rocked their daughter, and he would walk over to her. "Wo ai ni," Jem Carstairs would whisper to both of them, his rune-scarred cheeks pulled upward into a smile and his dark eyes danced with life.

He leaned down and kissed Tessa's shoulder.

He kissed Mina's, and Tessa's heart melted.

Because love was not temporary. Love was not an ephemeral thing meant only to last one lifetime. It binds us through the ages, a pulse that beats after all other pulses stop.

Love, in all of its complexities, is the best thing we do.

@themimsyborogove, thanks for ruining me with that shoulder kiss post!

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curi0us-gh0st · 2 months

Note

hey hey hey leeee, my lovely friend, can i request a hcs for ok-joo as your girlfriend?

Bad (Jang Ok-joo)

pairings: Jang Ok-joo x fem!reader.

word count: 0.8 k

genre: fluffy.

summary: you are the sea, the day and the sunrise to her.

warnings: none, just cuteness. [no review]

a/n: my lovely little friend, all for your happiness lolol 🎀

• Let's say you guys met through Minhee at one of her ballet performances, you talked so much about how proud you were of Minhee which made Okjoo laugh while watching your drama!

• Since then, some of your dates are with Minhee (she's Steve 😭🤏🏻), if it weren't for her, you would still be talking nonstop while Okjoo would look on with shining eyes.

• Anyway, as a girlfriend, Okjoo is the best girlfriend in the world, definitely.

• You are like the golden retriever and the black cat, you would look like a child full of energy after eating sweets while she would be the mother who would watch you with pride.

• Definitely no one can ruin your (and Minhee's) happiness, so, well, you know...

• Did someone bump into you? She will make him apologize. Did someone take the plushie you were fighting for? She negotiates, not caring about the price. Did someone mess with you while you were hanging out? Uh-oh, he's going to have a big problem to solve.

• Over protective!

• For her, you are a rare jewel that cannot be harmed, she will take care of you at all costs, it doesn't matter, she will take care of the smallest details.

• It's so funny how different she is talking to others and talking to you; With others, her voice would be a little thick to be intimidating but not too much, just nodding, her face expressionless, while with you, her eyes are shining with admiration and love, there is always a small smile on her lips, she laughs at your stupid jokes and when you act like a curious child!

• Did you like some of the nonsense she bought? Get ready, any opportunity she will bring just to see you smiling brightly.

• Have you commented on anything you like, like skating? Well, in winter, or any date, she will rent a skating rink just for you to skate like those romantic movies.

• In one of her daydreams, were you wishing for something? Boom! She will give it to you wrapped in gift paper at your next meeting.

• Her dates always end with you full of bags with gifts and her taking you to walk by the sea (Minhee just said you shouldn't make out there lolol).

• The walks by the sea, a comfortable silence surrounding you, the view of the sky in shades of orange and dark blue, while listening to the waves hitting the sand, easing all stress and bringing comfort to you, the beach has become your favorite place. you.

• If you had insomnia, you would definitely put on your coats and go to the beach to watch the sunrise!

• Lots of random kisses, you would be talking about something and you would be excited, she would kiss your lips or forehead; Kisses when leaving and entering the house, kisses before going to sleep and when waking up, kisses on the cheek whenever you take photos.

• When you go out, she loves to intertwine your hands while you walk, while you are in front of each other in the restaurant, while you are pulling her to dip her feet in the cold sea water.

• About hugs, she loves to wrap her arms around your shoulders, you snuggled into her chest, listening to your heartbeat speed up as she holds you in her arms, you're just a little smaller than her.

• Your love language is definitely: Quality time, acts of service and physical touch.

• Minhee definitely feels proud to be your cupid lolol

• She will never forget your commemorative date, you might, but will she? The clock has struck midnight, she will have a simple gift and a statement prepared just to make you move.

• She would definitely create a playlist just to think about you while she has headphones on or alone.

• Motorbike rides during the early hours of the morning, just to feel the wind blowing on their little bodies while you're clinging to it.

• If you were a friend of Minhee's who danced ballet, she would be in the front row watching the performance, and at the end, she would bring both of you a bouquet of flowers.

• Don't you live together or are you busy? Put your cell phone on silent, she will send you a message every five minutes asking if you are okay, if you ate, what you are doing and when you can meet again.

• Are you sleeping together? You are the smallest thigh, she will hug your waist and put her head in your hair to smell you or your neck.

• When your relationship is advanced, she will make jokes just to see you with puffy cheeks because you are angry, she will have a provocative smile while ruffling your hair or squeezing your cheeks just to tell you that there is no need to be angry.

How could my day be bad When I'm with you? You're the only one Who makes me laugh So how can my day be bad? It's a day for you Oh, baby

bad - wave to earth.

#👻 gh0st headcanons !#fluffy #kdrama #kdrama fic #ballerina #ballerina fic #jeon jong seo #jeon jong seo x reader #jang ok joo #jang ok joo x reader #૮ • ﻌ ა my sweett toddynhooo

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