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#being able to move someone to such emotion is such high praise
astrhae · 11 months
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alright I just read your hanaki!Wesper story and when I tell you it emotionally wrecked me in the best way possible im being so for real!!! I never cry at fics it's like a flex for me but this made me sob like a baby
its so poetically written and gut wrenchingly heartbreaking and I hope I can tear somebody apart so lovingly and put them back together like you do with your wonderful writing one day!!
akdjdhdhk hi hello! one day i hope to read your writing and be lovingly torn apart and put back together by it 💙 also, thank you so much and sending you all the hugs and *slides some tissues and a fluffy (ish) deleted scene* i hope this helps with the tears :)
Some days, Wylan still coughed, dry and painful, the phantom feeling behind his throat forcing him to claw for air. Even with the flowers gone from him, his body still remembered, still carried all the marks of his past mistakes. “I love you,” Jesper would remind Wylan on those days, his gentle, gentle hands tucking Wylan’s curls behind his ears, forcing Wylan to look at him. To look, and to be seen in return. “I want you,” Jesper would add, his voice a wave lapping gentle over shores of hurt. “You have me.” And Wylan would tilt his head until his lips brushed Jesper’s palm, a kiss and an apology. A kiss, and a confession: you have me, too. Like this: wretched and broken. Wretched, and healing, and trying. For you, for you, for us. “Thank you,” Wylan would say after, when the clouds had passed and his lungs were light, and Jesper would shake his head. “Don’t.” “Why not?” “Because,” Jesper would lead them “Because,” Jesper would always have a warm cup of tea ready, sweetened with just a hint of honey to help soothe the cough, “I haven’t even earned your forgiveness yet.” “I’ve forgiven you,” Wylan would remind him, because he has, and he will again. “And I’ve forgiven you,” Jesper would reply, because Wylan hadn’t been faultless in it either. “But it’s harder to forgive myself.” They’d taken back out the old oil paintings that Wylan had hidden away after Jesper had left. The miniature portraits that Marya had painted of them grinning, the grand canvas of them stealing glances at each other that used to hang over the entryway, naive and young and still fresh with a love untested, the first thing anyone would see when they entered the Van Eck mansion – at least, if they entered it the proper way, without lockpicks and shadows. The first thing: a declaration of their happiness. But Marya had painted a new portrait of them for the entryway, with Wylan’s hand clasped in Jesper’s, and a ring hanging from a chain around Wylan’s neck, and a laugh shared between them, their eyes crinkled around the corners and their cheeks flushed with fondness, with a love hardwon. It was, Wylan realised, less a declaration of happiness, and more of hope. One day, one day they’d get there. “Jesper,” Wylan would offer the tea back to him, “I loved you. I love you. I don’t regret it.” And Jesper would shake his head again, as lost as Wylan had been. “Why not?” Wylan thought of Kaz and Inej, Nina and Matthias. He thought of his mother, and his father, and he thought he understood a little better now, a little braver now. “I can’t regret it,” he repeated, “because I can’t regret us.” Some days, they still needed time to find their way back, but Wylan tipped his chin up toward the sun, toward the future, toward Jesper’s smile, and he smiled back. Sometimes forgiveness looked like patience. Sometimes love looked like Jesper’s spoons beside Wylan’s forks, like Jesper’s shirt on Wylan’s shoulders. Sometimes, happiness looked like this: fractures, fractals, the branches of the cherry tree reaching higher into the sky, covering the blue with greens and pinks and the edge of promise. Sometimes, happiness was this: a cup of tea passed between them, warmth spilling inside them, and the truth, the truth sitting between them – less a poison, more a bedrock.
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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 3 months
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I’ve taken a night to get my emotions and my brain in order so now let’s talk: Percy Jackson and The Olympians Season One Finale. And oh my goodness you guys, I loved it so much. I cried, I screamed, and I drank blue cocktails. (we tried to make blue cookies as well but they just came out beige with the tiniest hint of kinda green, but they still tasted good)
BOOK AND SHOW SPOILERS AHEAD!
I have been a fan of Charlie Bushnell's Luke all season but I was really waiting for this episode to truly see his interpretation of the character and OH MY GOD HE DID NOT DISAPPOINT. I cried. He can freaking ACT and he was absolutely incredible (tbc I'm not saying no-one else has been acting to the same incredible standards because they absolutely have but I'm particularly praising him because this is really the first opportunity he's had to truly show us what he can do). The fact that the show managed to surprise me (as someone who was first read the books when I was six and has loved and reread them over and over again since) with the interpretation of Luke it presented completely blew me away, and I LOVE this interpretation of him so let's talk about it. I firmly believe that Percy and Luke are literary foils and each represent everything the other had the potential to become, so to see the set up of a potentially far more emotional arc for Luke was really beautiful to me and I think it was really well done; the fight scene in the forest so perfectly exemplified everything between them that is so similar and so distinctly different. The pain we saw in Luke in this scene was so genuinely moving and it I think it sets up a really interesting implication for his arc towards being willing to kill other demigods as either being slower or as being partly influenced by the pain he feels from losing Annabeth - when he looked at her I could hear I'm on her side, always. She's my little sister. and it was heart-breaking. At first I wasn't sure about the absence of the pit scorpion but I think it makes a lot of sense for this adaptation since if he was emotional and didn't want to kill Percy but had taken the scorpion out there with him it just wouldn't add up - however, I do think that Percy should have been injured in the fight. It didn't have to be anything that stopped the series from being PG because that would be unnecessary and as teens and adults who enjoyed the books a long time ago we know that this show isn't made for our age group so we shouldn't be expecting any gore or anything, but I do think that the show hasn't consistently represented the stakes as being as high as they were in the books. That being said, I adored this scene and the fight, I think it was absolutely the correct choice for this interpretation of Luke and maybe this is an unpopular opinion I don't know, but I am really glad that Annabeth was there because I think it's so important for her to be able to see this first hand instead of having the news passed on to her and it potentially gives us a really interesting set up to explore her emotional response to his betrayal in a slightly different way. It's also incredible to me to note that Luke's demeanour changed when Annabeth revealed herself; he is a different person in her absence because of the façade he puts up for her and this for me was really reflective of the way when Annabeth describes them first travelling to camp she idolises the way he fought off so many monsters to protect them but Thalia describes it as him picking unnecessary fights and endangering them.
This is maybe an inconsequential detail, but for me it was massive: the change in lighting at the betrayal reveal emphasised Luke's scar far more noticeably than before and in this moment, reminding book readers of the pain he went through and of Hermes' failures, Percy is literally seeing Luke in a new light. Incredible. Now maybe I'm just misremembering but I was convinced that it was in the first book that Luke told Percy how he got his scar, but I remember it being quite a brief retelling and Luke skating over the details quite quickly. I think that's because we only get it from Percy's perspective in the books and Luke is unable to fully articulate his experiences because of the pain it causes him, so I'm wondering whether not telling us about his quest thus far is because not having a limited POV is going to give us the opportunity to truly understand Luke's pain, and maybe even show us flashbacks, later on, which I think has brilliant potential and could be utterly heart-breaking and amazing if it's done well. I'm really glad that there's already been reference to May Castellan (the way I want to cry just thinking about herrrrrrr. I am not emotionally prepared to see May Castellan on screen anyway, but the prospect of seeing her during a far more emotional character arc for Luke is terrifying and so exciting and I can't wait it's gonna destroy me) and I although at first it struck me as strange that they'd included Hermes in season 1, I think I now understand that it was quite important for us to have a better understanding of Hermes attitude towards Luke and the fact that Annabeth had met him before very obviously explaining that there's more to understand about their relationship, but ALSO because it added so so much to the Percy/Luke parallels by showing us Hermes' failures and Poseidon's successes. I think that the presentation of Poseidon was so brilliantly done, I cannot explain to you the scream that I screamed when the camera panned round to reveal that Poseidon was standing in between Zeus and Percy; they so perfectly showed the awkwardness and discomfort of their relationship in synchronicity with Poseidon genuinely wanting to care for and protect Percy, and I think that it did such a good job of highlighting the difference between Hermes and Poseidon and the subsequent impact on Luke and Percy respectively. The first I heard that my sister had started watching the episode (tbc she knew I'd already finished it) was an all caps text message saying" HE SURRENDERED". Because that means SO MUCH to us as the viewer! It was massive!!!!!!!! It was incredible!!!! It also made so much sense as to why they had let the solstice pass, because we needed to see this and so much more importantly PERCY needed to see this. I hope I'm getting my point across this feels kind of like rambling nonsense, but when we have this more sympathetic image of Luke it is therefore so important to understand why we so confidently believe he's in the wrong and for me that came most prominently from the way Poseidon did enough for Percy to show him that he cared the only way he knew how to, and in Luke using Percy's own fatal flaw against him in their final sword fight. Percy's fatal flaw is his loyalty and in that fight the moment he thought he'd hurt Luke he stopped and apologised, only for Luke to exploit his feelings of friendship and use them against him to keep fighting. Again, I think this could have been more effective if Percy was actually injured but I understand why they didn't and I wouldn't have suggested they cut anything else to have enough time to include that.
And whilst we're on parallels as well, I don't think there are any words to explain what I felt when we heard "You didn't ask to be a half-blood". Like... yeah, literally nothing, I can't explain it, it was incredible.
I was going to talk about Annabeth being allowed to be a kid but I actually saw a post about that yesterday by @mydairpercabeth so I'll link it here.
Okay if you bothered to read this far thank you very much, let me know what you thought of the show and the finale too!! And also I've been avoiding talking about this too much up until now, I made a post when the first two episodes came out but I've been quiet since because I wanted to watch the whole season first, so if anyone wants more of this/wants thoughts on any of the other episodes let me know! Thanks for reading I hope it made some semblance of sense :)
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Hear me out, this probably isn't really too crazy to say but Step 2 would be a perfect fit for the Jerk Squad
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And considering how Frederick and Nichole are, tbh I can see them sending Tam to the boarding school in XOXO Droplets because of the prestige and wanting their daughter to have the best academics the US education system can offer (assuming they ended up taking her back when the originally planned)
Qiu would thrive but Tamarack would barely be swimming but damn now I'm out here trying to develop ships and shit. Are y'all seeing my vision here???
I can see Everett crushing on Qiu for sure honestly. He would like the way they carry themselves, one hot jerk to another.
Ngl I can see Nate and Tamarack becoming a thing once he gets over the emotional intimacy fear thing. I say this because in my head, I see NateTam being a childhood ??? to lovers type beat. Their parents all went to the same university and are all good friends, so they grew up knowing each other. He's known Tam since their elementary school days back when she was just an energetic wild child who got on his nerves and saw her transform into the shy, insecure person she is in Step 2. So he begrudgingly looks out for her, in his own Nate way, at their school. Part because his parents told him to and ask him about Tamarack incessantly and part because he kinda, sorta, lowkey, can quietly admit he cares about her. Kind of. You won't catch him admitting that shit out loud for a WHILE though
(JB calls Tamarack 'Candi with an I' because her eyes remind JB of candied apples)
And hear me out... Jeremy and Tamarack. Tamarack's autumn gold gamboge hair with its beautiful sparkles is what makes Jeremy stop hating the color orange. Like it would be rocky of course, especially since whether regardless Tam wouldn't be a Jerk Squad member, but I can see it still coming to fruition. Like I'm not sure what exactly the dynamic would be... but I still see it. She gets a job working at his parents' shop, he listens to her practice the cello and doesn't have much to complain about which is basically as much glaze as someone can get from the guy, so yeah. Pretty high praise. His parents would be all over setting him and Tamarack up because she's so sweet, they think she would be perfect for him.
Sweet as Tamarack is though, she's opinionated and is one to move forward even if someone else won't go with her. She's got some sass and spunk so she won't be so sweet that Jeremy wouldn't be able to stand being around her for long periods of time.
But I also think Jeremy and Qiu would be really good together too honestly. Not just aesthetically, but I think they'd get a kick out of each in their own way. Plus, Qiu knowing Pran already helps
Feed my delusions in the ask box. What's your OL/XOXO crossover thoughts?
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abiiors · 1 year
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i saw someone ask this somewhere else and it had me thinking, how do you think Ross would act if he realised his partner has reached sub space?
obviously smut, no minors etc, etc. (i'm so sorry if i got things wrong, this is all based on what google told me)
okay so after an insane amount of research (maybe even some self-discovery along the way? 👀) here's what i think --
he's been making you cum for hours now, honestly you don't even know at this point, you've lost track of time. all you know is this feels so fucking good that you could cry honestly, maybe you are already crying, whimpering and sobbing as he rails into you and calls you his pretty little slut for taking him so well. which is everything you want to hear right now, that you've been good for him, that he has been enjoying himself and with each thrust and each slam of his hips you feel yourself slipping away more and more. your body feels like it's crumbling down and floating away on the breeze but in a GOOD way; freedom like you've never felt before. he notices how your cries die down, gradually get replaced by quiet, sweet hums of pleasure; unintelligent sounds that are somewhere between a moan and his name. he has a hand fisted in your hair that he uses to yank your head back so he can look at you properly, make sure you're alright. and that's when he sees the glazed out, far away look in your eyes, the way your head is practically lolling like you have no control of your body anymore, the dumb, absent smile on your face. and it dawns on him.
he's quite smug about getting you so cock drunk but he's also honed in his focus on any signs of discomfort or injury, signs that he might be pushing too far because you're too far gone to care about using your safe word. or being able to speak. so he pulls out for just a second so he can have you face him before continuing. pushes two fingers in your mouth that you swirl your tongue around and suck on while he keeps pounding into you in a gentle, sensual rhythm; hips bucking from the tight, wet feeling of you around him. it's a constant stream of praise after praise from his mouth too.
'your mouth was made for sucking on me wasn't it?'
'my needy little baby, what would you do without me?'
'did so well for me today, now just lay back and let me take care of you okay?'
and each time you hum around his fingers, it goes straight down to his cock. he knows how much you love this euphoric feeling, how much you wouldn't wanna come down from this high but everyone has to eventually and so he already has several things prepped for after the session for the both of you.
there's no way you're in any condition to move or walk on your own once the scene ends. but he's absolutely prepared for this. both of you have done your research into it and discussed your boundaries and what aftercare you would like etc. since your relationship is not JUST a dom/sub one (it's an actual romantic, monogamous relationship), he knows how much you would rely on just physical and emotional intimacy. so there's a whole aftercare routine.
he wraps you up in a soft blanket while he runs a bath for the two of you and makes sure to use your favourite bath bombs. it takes you some time to be verbal again but once you are (and once you're both in the bath; you between his legs, back pressed to his chest) he's asking questions like 'did you enjoy that?' and telling you how much he enjoyed it and how that was one of the best orgasms he's ever had (which is also true for you and you tell him that). and the glazed look in your eyes is still there so he makes sure to hold onto you and ask you about things you enjoyed the most and things you might want to skip the next time/didn't enjoy as much (there's barely any of that lmao, if any at all). he makes sure to wash your hair for you and give you a scalp massage while he's at it which makes you sleepier than before. but he's insistent on making you eat a small snack and have a warm beverage before you go to bed.
so once bath time is over, you're just both in the kitchen wrapped in fuzzy robes. he has the kettle on but he makes sure to let you grab onto his arm while he makes a small snack for the two of you. he absolutely adores how you latch onto him like a koala and how you hang onto his every word and get starry-eyed at every small compliment.
he also makes sure to check in emotionally for any signs of a sub drop (none for now but he's not going to stop checking in for the next two/three days. he's also not going to stop watching you closely). watching something together to wind down is out of the question since you're practically dozing off after two sips of your chamomile tea but he makes sure to dress you first in one of his t-shirts and some fuzzy socks while you're just there, speaking in a sleepy, love-sick voice, like 'you made me feel so good today. i love you so much. thank you for taking care of me.' and he appreciates it a lot because at the back of his mind he's always worried about accidentally hurting you but hearing you talk about how much you enjoyed it is all the reassurance he needs. and it doesn't take him long to fall asleep after that with how absolutely blissful and content he feels xo
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sorcerous-caress · 4 months
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Ok ok ok I'm very new to the human kink thing but I'm wondering if there's some kind of planar effect associated with it??? Like I can just imagine the idea of star elves and other eldarin who come from the feywild and spent their whole lives being so immersed in magic that if they ever encounter a non-spellcaster human for the first time it's just like wow. this mf has zero magic about them. I wonder if it's a strange sensation, like noise cancelling headphones, and that lack of magical energy might feel relieving or sexual for them. Idk if it's exactly dnd canon but I've always imagined magic aligned entities to be able to sense magic like a buzzing in the air, so a lack of that buzzing would be entirely wild for them. Either way, magical radio silence = sexual exploration for eldarin and I fully support it
(also I love love loveeeee your work and your dnd theories and fun inquiries have led me to learn so much more cool lore and it's shaped some of my interspecies interactions in-game as a DM so tysm for everything you do 💜💜)
Wait really? I inspired some of your moments as a dm? Omfg please tell me I'd love to listen if you're willing to share <33. Thank you so much for the praise!
Also I love your theory! I hold similar ideas, that concept is too cool to pass on.
I've seen one similar to its concept in a game called "Echos of the Fey"
So elves in this game, average elves not just eladrin, are all born with magic. Because all magic comes from the fey and all elves share a connection to it.
Humans can learn magic too by using the hammer method and seeing what sticks on the wall, but they can never connect to the fey.
And the fey is exactly like you described. It allows to elves to effortlessly connect to each other, feel and sense each other's presence before seeing each other. It allows parents to feel when their children die and allows lovers to sense when their elf partner is in danger.
Elves can share their emotions through the fey too, they don't need to use words or explain things. They can let the other person feel exactly what they're feeling.
It was described as a constant song, a different melody from each elf in the sanctuary they all lived in. Going on at all times. And sure one elf can supress their own song but they can't stop hearing others'.
You can also speak words into the other person's mind using the fey. If they give you permission to dive deeper into their soul, you can even tell if they're lying about something or being honest.
But again, all of this only applies if the two people are elves. Even sorcerer humans wouldn't be able to feel it or connect to the fey.
It's also why elves seem cold or detached to humans, they are so used to the fey and the immediate connection and trust it gives them in other elves, that they don't bother to learn how to properly express their emotions with words or facial expressions. As a society, their inner personal relationships are always reliant on the fey.
In that game, one elf does move to a human settlement and he describes it as radio silence. That sometimes when he's around so many elves, he wonders if his ideas are truly his own or simply from other elves through the fey.
That being near humans gives him more individuality, forces him to work hard to establish trust with someone rather then immediately earn it. To learn to express his emotions rather than assume the other person can feel them.
It is radio silence. There is no music except for the ones humans deliberately play with their instruments. Even then, anyone can misinterpret its meaning with no definitive answer.
In that game, there are no other races besides humans and elves. And no sub-races for elves, they're all high elves.
But that theory still holds up if we integrate it to dnd! With some adjustments. It explains why elves are so reclusive, why they prefer the company of other elves over other races, and why two elf strangers seem to almost click immediately.
The fey is a constant overstimulatation, like getting constant ads in a video. Some elves learn to tone it out while others are so fed up with it that they'd rather lose their own magic than stay connected to it.
Which is why those ones would move to human cities, would prefer the company of humans and find joy at how expressive they are, at the long trials each friendship has in order to earn their trust.
For once their mind is clear, no meddling fey making them feel other's emotions or hear their thoughts. Only their own thoughts in their brain, everything they feel is truly their own.
Except when another elf is nearby.
But again, each elf can choose to suppress their own presence in they fey, just not others'. So, I like to think that elves in human cities came to a collective agreement to supress their own presence in the fey to not bother each other, also to not make the humans feel left out.
Anyway, exposition over, time to talk about the actual kink.
So remember that dog drawing contest meme? This one?
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Where, yes, the second drawing was so beautiful and amazing, but the first place one held an undeniable charm to it.
I think that's how eladrins and star elves view humans.
Ofwjofwjofjwks now hear me out!
They're so used to everyone around them brimming with magic, for other fey creatures' appearance to change drastically through the season, wearing the ocean waves aa a dress or growing a cherry blossom tree as hair.
Imagine a human in comparison, how simple and plain we would be, how utterly new and adorable in their views.
Simplicity has its merits, if done right then it can be as beautiful as complexity if not more.
A human, devoid of any magic and only wearing their own body and clothes as decoration, would be beyond this world for elves and eladrins, literally.
There is another game i played that had human wizards talking about the fey world and the dangers of it, i don't remember its name.
But the main reason why humans were told to avoid the fey world and never go there, is because their souls shine bright like a beacon amidst it.
Every person and creature in the fey world knows magic beyond our comprehension, and all of them know how to hide their souls and lock it. Like installing anitmalware and a firewall on a computer with proxy to prevent tracking.
Humans are the boomers who uninstall system 32.
Our souls are just up for grabs, literally on a silver plate for any fey who comes waltzing in and tricks us into some verbal contract. We have no magic to detect them or to prevent them.
Humans don't last in the fey realm, everyone wants them. Even the most talented wizards who live there, never stay for long or always take a break every now and then.
You are literally the lighthouse, siren and mist amidst the fey sea.
To an elf who is tried of the magical noise, you're like a comfort blanket. Warm and makes them ignore the world outside.
They're beyond infatuated with how much you steal all of their brain's attention, focus all of their scattered thoughts on you or the simplest of things.
How you express your joy with laughter, how you spent time cooking a meal, how tears collect down your face when you cry, how you tap your feet or click your tongue.
Primal life in its purest forms, the most bare form a soul could ever take.
You're the most simple shape, and for that, you are loved, adored for how much you hold. How easily you adapt, a white light containing a rainbow inside.
Humans fit anywhere and everywhere, even in places they're not supposed to. They still tried and will keep trying forever, that's why they keep stepping to the fey realm and keep attempting on befriending the elves or building houses there.
It's hard not to be blinded by their light, let it outshine everything else around them.
In a sexual context, I think elves and eladrins would be so used to magical sex or soul connections that with a human they get to experience having their soul grounded into earth.
The simplest touch of fingertips trailing up their skin, the silence except for the occasional gasps and groans of the human. For the first time their own moans are so clear to their pointy ears, they're forced to drown into their own emotions and melt into the bed.
And the humans seduction and pleasure somehow clicks with every single race, somehow surpasses so many cultural barriers. Experiencing pure pleasure with all the small awkwardness and discomforts, being acutely aware of the pillow under their head or the drumming of their heartbeat.
It's how humans don't need magic to thrive, have fun or give pleasure. How these things are second nature to them, you could strip them of all of their fancy science and magic and even then they'll still find a new way to climb up.
That's the human condition That's the human spirit, to care in the face of uncaring world. To love despite your own limitations, to be kind to something you can never understand.
Every wizard who has ever lived in the fey realm speaks of it fondly, like an old friend. Despite the countless attempts on their life, despite the times they almost lost their mind. Humans see beauty in everything, dangerous or soft.
And they infect others with their softness, make the elves and eladrins addicted to their comfortable silence. So much that they wonder how did they ever live before in the constant noise and buzzing.
Humans are like a vacation you go to when the polluted cities start to drain your soul, they're the fresh water running rivers through the dandelions filled fields.
And so many long to live there, to abandon their apartments and start over there. But they're afraid to steal the humans' light from them, to infect them with their magic and poison the waters.
So only a few go down there at a time, for a vacation length to an eladrin is akin to a lifetime to a human.
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mushiewrites · 1 year
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Hear me out, gummy Karl. He's got the swirl on his belly and it's definitely ticklish as heck. I imagine that in his gummy form Karl can't really talk, kind of like blob Dream. I can see his noodle limbs getting all curly when someone hits a spot he really enjoys. I also hc that Karl becomes gummy when he's very tired or very emotional.
Sad gummy Karl will always be the target of his fiancés finest cheer up tickles.
Angry gummy Karl just needs one tickly lap around his swirl to become giggly and cuddly again
Tired gummy Karl will all but literally melt into soft tickles for relaxation.
But also he loves to help his loves out. Quackity stressed from elections or work on LN? Gummy Karl will happily drape across his lap to be a squeaky stress relief. Sap angry or upset? Gummy Karl will be quick to playfully provoke him into a better mood once by wrecking Karl for being a pest.
But of course he can be mischievous too. Going into gummy form to annoy Quackity by being tall.
Messing up Saps training by cheating during sparring; wrapping his noodle self around him
Following the gang to watch manhunt and tripping Dream or the hunters.
Rearranging blocks on Foolish's builds
Following Punz around knowing the mercenary wants to be alone.
I think that gummy Karl has high potential as both ler and lee. He's a devious lil guy.
-azure giggles
Okay I don’t know much about gummy!Karl but yes??????? I love these concepts so dang much? 💕
shjdsnsj okay the SWIRL okay so that immediately set me off bc I love when lers do that thing where they start super far out on someone’s tummy and do circles and get smaller and smaller and smaller and close in on a lees bellybutton, and that just immediately made me think of how much anticipation comes with that and how nerve wracking it is to wait for it to dip in the lil spot. now I know it doesn’t lead to a bellybutton but it’s still sooooo extremely sensitive for the big squishy guy so he’s just chirping and jingling away, throwing his limbs around and somehow managing to miss the ler every time he flings his arms up. and when the finger that’s tracing goes more towards the middle of the swirl, that’s when karl’s limbs would kind of curl up on themselves bc of how badly it tks.
I love the idea that if he’s angry, it takes one lil swirl to get him all giggly and happy again ): I don’t even wanna think about sad gummy!karl bc pain™️ BUT the fiances would 1000% shower him in cuddles and tks and praises bc they’re just so good to him and love to make karl feel nice ): and tired gummy??? melty lil jelly pile when he gets lil tummy tks
The way you spoke about gummy!karl being a lil stress/anger reliever for quackity and sap ): just draping himself in their laps and putting their arms up and going “you can tk me if you want” all shy and giggly. and of COURSE they do, bc, how can you say no to that?
And I LOVE how mischievous and pranky you made him, especially the tripping people in manhunt and wrapping himself around people just because he can. And it’s funny bc I’m just thinking about him tripping someone and immediately wrapping himself around thems he’d be wiggling fingers wherever he can, and the lee wouldn’t even be able to move bc of gummy karl around them (:
gummy!karl is 100% a switch i agree wholeheartedly, this was so cute azure ):
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vannahfanfics · 1 year
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Kings of the Court
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Word Count: 7065
Character Study, Drama, Angst
Summary: Five times Tobio Kageyama went to Tooru Oikawa for advice, and the one time Tooru thought him worthy of receiving it.
Here’s my story for the @oikagebigbang​! Art will be linked when posted~
“I hate him.” 
It was a mutter, barely more than a breath, but Tooru still glanced furtively around to make sure no one heard him. When no one immediately scolded him, he breathed a sigh of relief. Thankfully, his resentful admission, however quiet, had been lost amidst the cacophony of athletic shoes squeaking against the gymnasium floor and the shouts of Tooru’s teammates. Not a few of them were cries of praise for their newest team member, one Tobio Kageyama—the object of Tooru’s animosity. 
The term “upstart” had never applied to anyone as much as it had Tobio, at least in Tooru’s mind. 
Just look at him, Tooru seethed silently as he watched the first-year move across the court. Perfect posture, keen eyes, sheer precision—the kid was blessed with natural talent. All of the other members of Kitagawa Daiichi Junior High—and their coach, too—saw a ticket to the upper echelons of middle school volleyball fame in Tobio. Not Tooru. 
No, all Tooru saw was a threat.
“He could have gone for anything, but he just had to go for setter,” Tooru grumbled. “The nerve.”
Tooru had busted his ass since day one in order to claim that position. He was rightfully protective of it; not just anybody could be a setter, the arguable crux of the team. Of course, he knew that someone had to train to be a setter to take over once he graduated. The simple fact that Tobio wanted to be a setter wasn’t what bothered him. 
No, it was the fact that Tobio was so stinkin’ talented that he could very easily steal the position from Tooru. The notion of having to play back-up for some usurping freshman boiled Tooru’s blood. He wouldn’t have it. He would not have it! He did not come this far only to have his dreams dashed by some naturally gifted punk with a silver spoon in his mouth!
“Careful, or you’ll give yourself an aneurysm,” came Hajime’s voice from beside him, and Tooru looked just in time for his best friend to flick him in the artery that was bulging in his forehead. 
“Can it, Iwa-chan,” Tooru sniffed sourly, reaching up to rub at the throbbing blood vessel. “I’m not in the mood.” 
The blood vessel pulsed against his fingertips; despite the very tempting option to keep stewing in his own vitriol, Tooru knew that he should calm down. This wasn’t good for his blood pressure. So, despite himself, he closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. In, out. In, out. In, out. Gradually, the anger bubbled away. Tooru thought he would feel better. Instead, he just felt hollow. 
His eyes watered as he watched his teammates crowd around Tobio to gush over yet another display of his stupid God-given talent. It hadn’t even been that impressive, but they were over there acting like Tobio was already an Olympian. Since Tobio had come around, nobody praised Tooru like that anymore, not even their coach. No, it was just, “See, Tobio? Do it like that, and you’ll be a starting setter in no time!” 
“If you’ve got time to sulk, you’ve got time to practice,” Hajime huffed and tossed a volleyball at Tooru. 
Tooru barely managed to react with his reflexes so dulled by his roiling emotions, but he was able to save himself the embarrassment of being smacked in the chest with the ball; a clumsy catch was still a catch, after all. He hugged it to his chest and pouted dourly at Hajime. 
“‘M not sulking,” he said defensively. “I’m just…” 
“Brooding?” Hajime sneered, and that stupid smirk made Tooru want to lob the ball at his face. Hajime would respond in kind, however, and Tooru’s eyes were already stinging. He didn’t need his whole face to burn thanks to some up-close and personal contact with a volleyball. So, he begrudgingly followed Hajime to an empty corner of the gym. This was a song and dance that they had done many times; Hajime seamlessly fell into position, waiting for Tooru to set for him. 
He’s right, though, the cunning bastard, Tooru thought with a wry smile. I’m not going to keep Tobio from taking my position by moping about it. I need to prove that I’m way more valuable than he is! It wouldn’t kill Hajime to be nicer about it, though. 
But, tough love was better than no love at all, Tooru reasoned. He was grateful that his best friend, at least, cared more about him than going ga-ga over the freshman. Tooru would have been shocked if Hajime had gone all starry-eyed, anyway; there was no question that Hajime preferred Tooru’s sets above all else, so he probably wasn’t exactly keen on the freshman clinching the position of starting setter, either. This was Hajime’s way of saying that he had no intentions of abandoning him in favor of the newest model. That fact was some comfort to Tooru, and he couldn’t waste his friend’s sentiment—as disguised by a sharp tongue as it was. 
Tooru sucked in a deep breath, closed his eyes, and took a moment to ground himself. He concentrated on the ball in his hands, feeling the bumps and ridges against his worn palms, until the turmoil of his mind subsided. All of his frustrations and fears fell away until nothing was left but cool, calm clarity; his breathing evened, his heartbeat slowed, his body unwound. The rest of the world echoed distantly in the background. All Tooru need concern himself with was the ball in his hands and Hajime, awaiting the set. 
Tobio Kageyama might have been born with an abundance of natural talent, but there was one thing that Tooru had over him yet: years of blood, sweat, and tears. Tooru also had stubbornness in spades. If Tobio wanted to claim the title of starting setter for himself, then he would have to wrest it from Tooru by force. Because Tooru Oikawa was the king of this court, and he ruled it with pride. 
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“Oikawa-san, do you have a moment?” 
Tooru was grateful that he was facing the locker, for the scowl that twisted his face was too instinctive to even think of suppressing. It had been a month now since Tobio had joined the team, but Tooru found him no less grating. Tobio seemed blissfully unaware of Tooru’s bitterness—whether by sheer obliviousness or a carefully crafted façade, Tooru had yet to determine—and it made the situation all the more irritating. It was really the one thing that prevented Tooru’s resentment for the kid from fading: the fact that Tobio had the audacity to ask Tooru for advice on how to basically usurp his own damn position! 
Tooru bit back a groan of irritation before grumbling, “Yeah, what?” The question need not asking; Tooru knew damn well that there was only one reason for Tobio approaching him at the start of practice. 
“I was hoping that you’d set some time aside after practice today to drill sets one-on-one with me. If you’re not busy, of course, senpai.” 
Ugh, Tooru knew deep down that it was his own acrimony coloring his perception, but damn, did it sound like Tobio was taunting him! 
“If you’re not busy,” he says, Tooru thought haughtily. He makes me out like I’m some jerk that won’t put aside the time for his juniors! As indignant as he was by the presumption (probably of his own making, but Tooru didn’t really want to listen to the reasonable side of himself right now), the very idea made him nauseous. Though his coach had assured him that he had no intentions of replacing Tooru as the starting setter, they were just empty words as far as Tooru was concerned. Coaches did everything they could to maximize the team’s potential to win; that was just the reality of competitive sports. 
There was no room for niceties or sentiment. If Tobio surpassed Tooru, then Tooru could kiss his hard-won position goodbye. It was the cold, hard truth. And so, Tooru was going to do everything possible to keep that from happening—even if that meant giving his underclassman the cold shoulder. 
“Sorry, Tobio-kun,” Tooru sighed. The small level of guilt that his conscience provided him made him seem regretful. “I’ve got a pretty big examination tomorrow. I’m afraid that I’ll be hitting the books as soon as practice is over. Perhaps another time.” He didn’t dare look at Tobio, instead pretending to rifle through his locker for his socks, which were sitting directly in front of his face and thus obscured from Tobio’s view. 
“Oh, I understand, Oikawa-senpai.” 
Oh, but do you? Tooru thought sourly. He obviously didn’t, if he had the nerve to ask Tooru to practice setting. He continued to fake searching through his locker until he heard the last of Tobio’s steps fade with the clang of the locker room door; then, he released the sigh he had been holding. The tail end of it morphed into a startled yelp when someone slapped their hand down on his shoulder. 
Tooru whipped around to see it was Hajime, who was wearing an even grumpier glower than usual. 
“Come on, Iwa-chan, ‘m not in the mood to be scolded,” Tooru pouted, then shrugged off his hand and turned to face him. 
“Oh? The fact you realize that you need to be scolded is even worse than what I’m about to scold you for,” Hajime huffed while crossing his arms. “It’s been a month, Tooru,” Hajime said, raising his voice over Tooru’s petulant whine. “The kid might have natural talent, but he’s got a long way to go before he’s got any hopes of surpassing you. Besides, it’s not like he’s actually got any intentions of stealing the starter position from you. What’s the harm in playing a good mentor, huh?” 
“You answered your own question, Iwa-chan,” Tooru countered matter-of-factly. When Hajime raised an eyebrow, Tooru rolled his eyes and sighed, “He can surpass me, even if it’ll take him ten years. Why should I help him along the way? There’s no benefit in it for me. And, though it galls me to admit it, he’s got way more natural talent than I do. Who knows what’ll happen if I take him under my wing? When he goes flying, he’ll rip mine right off. The only place for a wingless bird is the bench.”
Hajime was right, and Tooru knew it, deep down—all odds considered, the chances that the coach replaced him as starting setter with Tobio were frankly slim. But there was a chance, one that depended entirely on the unknown variable in the equation: Tobio’s potential. There was no telling how high this kid could go, and Tooru sure as hell wasn’t about to steal the red carpet from his road to success just to roll one out for Tobio. If Tobio was really destined to surpass him, then the kid would have to do it like everyone else: claw his way up the mountain with his own bare hands. Because Tooru wasn’t going to help him up one bit, not even an inch. 
“Hah! How is it that you make jealousy and paranoia sound so reasonable?” Hajime smirked, and Tooru frowned resentfully at the dismissiveness of his laugh. But it was just Hajime’s sarcastic humor; a gleam had taken up residence in his eyes, indicating that he was quite fired up about Tooru thinking so far ahead. Tooru’s grand ambitions had always fueled Hajime’s own, after all. 
“Well, I still think you’re kind of being an ass,” Hajime chuckled while punching Tooru lightly in the shoulder, “but that’s pretty on-brand for you. I guess I can get behind the whole ‘not-helping-your-rival’ thing.” 
“How can you insult me and validate me at the same time?” Tooru pouted while rubbing his shoulder. He wasn’t really that delicate, but Hajime had a bad habit of underestimating his own strength—he probably thought it was a love tap, but he’d kind of socked Tooru a little bit, the freakishly strong bastard. 
“It’s just one of my many talents,” Hajime winked at him. “Now, come on!” he said while impatiently nudging at Tooru’s foot with the toe of his own. He whirled on his heel and started marching toward the door; Tooru hurried to catch up with him. As they walked into the gym, Tooru couldn’t help but scan the room until he found Tobio. Why he punished himself like this, he didn’t know—but he did. 
As usual, the coach and upperclassmen were showering the boy in praise for the latest showcase of his talent. Tooru didn’t know what was worse—the idea of Tobio insufferably preening under all the compliments or the fact that he, in reality, completely ignored the lauding and just keep practicing. Tooru himself probably bought into his teammates’ compliments a little too much, but the notion of just brushing them off entirely struck him as a little… haughty. 
Tooru forced his gaze away from Tobio, tugging at his hair with a scowl. He had to stop spending so much time and energy fixating on the kid, as Hajime reminded of him again and again. It would amount to nothing but driving himself crazy. 
If he’s gonna surpass me someday, then so be it, Tooru resolved as he stooped down to scoop up a stray volleyball from the floor. He spun it in his hands as he straightened back up, and the longer he looked at it, the more his eyes gleamed with determination. There’s nothing more I can do than to make sure I fight tooth and nail against it. Sorry, Tobio-chan—you picked the pettiest person on this team to make a rival of. 
It may not be right. It definitely wasn’t nice. But such was the climb—on the harsh, unforgiving mountain of sports stardom, you couldn’t help others at the expense of yourself, or you’d end up buried beneath the cold snow, forgotten in the dark. 
Tooru Oikawa wasn’t going to end up like that, at least not without a hell of a fight. 
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“He’s watching me again, isn’t he?” Tooru growled at the feeling of eyes boring into the back of his head. It was a feeling he’d become way too accustomed to—the rise of the hairs on the back of his neck and the prickle in the base of his spine. All because Tobio Kageyama couldn’t take a goddamn hint and had resorted to watching Tooru like a hawk in order to learn how to be a setter. 
Sure enough, when Tooru cast a discreet glance over his shoulder, he saw Tobio a ways behind him—perfectly executing the jump serve he’d just performed. That little shit. 
“Come on. The year’s almost over. Does he have to keep spying on me?” Tooru whined as Hajime ducked under the net to bring him back the volleyball. “Coach has already promised him the position of starting setter next year. Would it kill him to take it easy?” 
“Hah! Would you?” Hajime challenged as he held out the volleyball. Tooru took it from him with a dour pout. 
“Well, no, but that’s because I’m me,” he grumbled. He then squeezed the volleyball with both his hands and stomped his feet a few times. “Grrrrrrr! It pisses me off so bad! I had to bust my ass to be starting setter second year! Tobio-chan just waltzes in, dazzles everybody with his stupid God-given talent, and is handed it on a silver platter! It’s so unfair!” 
Hajime just watched Tooru rant with a blank expression. Once he was finished, he huffed, put a hand on his hip, and squinted disdainfully at Tobio, who was none the wiser to Tooru’s tantrum. 
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think The Little Prince out there is gonna make it very far as a setter.”
“The Little Prince?” Tooru asked. 
“Yeah. He’s kinda got a snooty air about him, don’tcha think?” his friend frowned. He motioned with his chin at Tobio, who was performing another jump serve. “I dunno. He just gives me a vibe like… he thinks he’s in a class of his own. Like everyone else on the team would be worthless without him—the setter.” He then turned to Tooru, his frown deepening. “It’s not like how it was with you. You were reluctant to use your position as setter to bring out our talent because you were scared we’d outshine you.” 
Tooru just looked miserably at his feet. If anyone else had said it, it probably would have pissed him off. However, this was Hajime, the guy who knew him probably better than he knew himself. In Tooru’s earlier days as a setter, that was very much true—and it had been Hajime who made him realize that the entire point of being a setter was bringing out the strengths of everyone around you, and that in turn would make him shine all the brighter. 
“This guy, though…” Hajime huffed with a deep frown at Tobio. “I don’t get the same vibe. He acts like he’s a king, and we’re just the knights who exist to serve him. He’s not worried about anyone outshining him; he doesn’t think anyone can.” 
“That’s an awfully eloquent analysis, Iwa-chan,” Tooru smirked wryly. Jokes aside, what Hajime said made sense. Perhaps that was a big part of what irked him—that undercurrent of perfectionism that Tooru had already begun to see bubble at the surface within Tobio. It didn’t take him long to start ruthlessly picking apart his teammate’s technique and performance—even the upperclassmen’s. And it grew worse by the day; there were already grumblings within the team that the coach had made a mistake in choosing Tobio as the starting setter for the upcoming year. 
“Tch. I just say what I see,” he shrugged in response. “‘Sides, he ain’t a king yet, just a little prince tryna act like one. Speaking of—incoming.” 
Hajime made a hasty retreat to the other side of the net, and Tooru whipped around just in time to see Tobio approaching him. Sweat glistened on his forehead and his breath was slightly labored from his intensive solo practice. He held the volleyball tucked under his armpit as he used the hem of his tee-shirt to wipe at the bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face. 
“Do you have a moment, Oikawa-san?” 
No, Tooru wanted to say, but he bit down on his tongue to keep the unkind dismissal from coming out. He had to tread the fine line between believable indifference and being just plain ugly, at least when the coach was so close by. 
“What is it, Tobio-chan?” 
“Coach is going to make me starting setter next year,” Tobio said, and Tooru couldn’t refrain from wrinkling his nose at the very evident pride in the younger boy’s voice. “I wanted to ask you for advice.” 
“Sounds to me like you don’t need any, if Coach has that much faith in you,” Tooru shrugged. “What advice could I possibly offer you at this point?” 
More accurately, what advice could I possibly offer that you would actually listen to?
“Just because I’ve been chosen as starting setter doesn’t mean that I don’t have room to improve,” Tobio answered while idly spinning the volleyball in his hands. “I know my technique isn’t perfect yet. I’ll take any advice you have to give, Oikawa-san.” 
Despite the indignance burning inside of Tooru, he could at least give the kid credit for not growing complacent upon his achievement. Tobio’s drive spooked him, yeah—but him thinking he was all hot shit once being named setter would probably piss Tooru off far more. But Tobio was still thinking about things the wrong way, and that made Tooru’s eye twitch in irritation. 
A little prince with no regard for the importance of those around him… It sounds like Hajime really hit the nail on the head. It didn’t take a crystal ball to see that things were going to quickly go south come the start of next year if Tobio didn’t get his act together. Not that Tooru was going to tell him plainly; teamwork was a lesson that one could only learn on their own. Plus, that would be throwing his rival a bone, and Tooru didn’t wanna chuck Tobio so much as a tooth. That being said, Tooru had to say something, if only to try and spare the rest of his underclassmen just a little bit of grief. 
“Here’s my advice to you, Tobio-chan: think carefully about what it means to be a setter,” Tooru said while crossing his arms and raising his head slightly in a gesture of lofty importance. “Does the setter work for the team, or vice versa?” 
“Think about what it means to be a setter…?” Tobio echoed, his eyes slightly narrowing while he considered Tooru’s cryptic words. “I see… It’s not just about technique; it’s about ensuring that the rest of the team follows through…” He put one hand on his chin as he began to mutter under his breath, a bunch of half-formed thoughts and mumbles that Tooru really didn’t care to listen to. 
As Tooru whirled on his feet, Tobio momentarily snapped out of his thoughts. He glanced at Tooru, eyes wide, and quickly said, “Thank you, Oikawa-san; I have a lot to think about.” 
“Don’t thank me, Tobio-chan,” Tooru quipped back, his eyes glittering as he peered at Tobio through his peripheral vision. With a small smirk, he continued in a soft hum, “I haven’t done anything. It’s really all up to you, where you go from here.” 
And if you find yourself all alone, Tooru thought as he turned back around and headed across the court to Hajime, it will be no one’s fault but your own. Hajime’s right about you. Nothing I say right now would sway you. You’ve already put the crown on your head, but you’ve no idea what it really means to rule a court.
It’s just a matter of time before you learn that a castle can so easily come crashing down around you if you’ve built it with no pillars—because there’s no person in this world who can be a fortress all on their own. 
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“All right! That’s enough for the day,” the head coach barked, prompting Tooru to straighten up from his setting position and swipe the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead. “You know how it goes—first-years are on cleaning duty.” 
“Ahhhhhh!” Tooru exclaimed gleefully as he flounced up to Hajime on the sidelines, who had crouched down to tie his tennis shoe's loose laces. “I’m so glad that we’re second-years now! Cleaning duty is such a pain.” 
“Tch. Yanno, shit like that makes you seem like such a pretentious asshole,” Hajime huffed. He straightened up, crossed his arms, and rolled his eyes. “Oh, wait, I forgot—you are.” 
“Aw, you’re so mean, Iwa-chan,” Tooru pouted at him. “I’m merely enjoying my just reward for enduring a year of paying my dues. Surely, there’s no pretentiousness in that.” 
“There is in the way you do it,” Hajime scoffed and started walking toward the locker rooms. 
“Iwa-chaaaaaaaan,” Tooru wheedled while shuffling after him. Just as he was reaching out to tug on the back of his tee-shirt, he saw movement in the corners of his eyes and instinctively looked; what he saw made him stop in his tracks, for he was utterly puzzled. 
Tobio Kageyama had just walked through the door of the gym. His eyes were scrunched in a slight squint as he looked around, presumably for Tooru. Why else would he show up to the end of Aoba Johsai’s practice, if not for his former team captain? Tooru’s theory was all but confirmed when Tobio finally clapped eyes on him, and his slightly uncomfortable expression morphed into one of delighted recognition. 
“Oikawa-san!” he called with a wave of his arm over his head; without waiting for an answer, he began to jog over. 
Hajime had literally just walked through the locker room door, but upon hearing Tobio’s voice, he walked out backward and squinted at the approaching middle-schooler. 
“Eh? What the hell is the Little Prince doing here?” he mumbled right before Tobio came within earshot. 
Tooru hadn’t the faintest idea. He only gave Hajime a wide-eyed glance of bewilderment and shrugged. 
“Oikawa-san,” Tobio puffed as he came to a stop in front of Tooru, making him turn back and raise an eyebrow. 
“Long time, no see, Tobio-chan,” Tooru remarked and appraised him with a quick once-over. He’d grown in the past year—physically, anyway. Tooru crossed his arms when he raised his gaze back to Tobio’s face. He didn’t want to waste time on small talk and pleasantries; best to get straight to the point. So, he just quirked his brow higher and asked in a smooth, cool tone, “What brings you here?” 
“Isn’t it obvious?” Tobio blinked at him. “I came to ask you for advice, Oikawa-san.” 
Tooru’s eye twitched at Tobio’s chilly response. Ohoho, looks like you really have changed, Tobio-chan, he thought while trying to keep his face from curling into a scowl. All that accomplished is making his widening smirk seem less amused and more murderous. 
“Advice, huh?” Tooru said with a hum, his voice slightly high-pitched from the effort of trying to keep it level. His rage was simmering just at the surface because Tobio had changed; there was some kind of imperiousness to his demeanor that hadn’t been there before, one that made it seem like he was demanding an answer from Tooru rather than asking. And Tooru would be damned if some self-important upstart was gonna order him around. 
“The year’s barely started, and you’ve already hit a wall so high that you had to come running to your former senpai for help? Must be a tough riddle to crack indeed, Tobio-chan.” 
“It’s not that serious,” Tobio huffed defensively, and Tooru couldn’t help but feel a little spark of glee that he’d gotten a rise out of his junior so easily. “I’d just appreciate your perspective, as the former setter for the team.” 
There it is.
“Ah, so it’s the team that’s the problem, is it?” Tooru guessed. His insight apparently threw Tobio a little off-guard, for his eyes widened slightly. “Let me guess—you want advice on how to make them perform better because, in your opinion, they aren’t doing well enough.” 
“Exactly, Oikawa-san,” Tobio gasped in an eager breath, his eyes wide and nodding enthusiastically. “They just can’t match my sets, no matter how many times I tell them how they can improve, and they don’t take matches seriously. I’m the setter, they’re supposed to—” 
“I’mma stop you right there,” Tooru snorted and held up his hand. Tobio immediately clamped his mouth shut to bite on his bottom lip while he stared intently at Tooru. Oh, he looked so eager to hear Tooru’s wisdom, the poor thing. 
The thing was that, even if Tooru said it, Tobio wouldn’t hear it at all. He had that crown so snug on his head that it covered his ears. 
“I’ll give you the same advice I did when I left Kitagawa Daiichi: what does it mean to be a setter?” Tooru said, slowly lowering his hand to tuck it back against his other arm against his chest. “What is it that the other players are supposed to be doing for you, hmm? And what are you supposed to be doing for them?” 
“I don’t understand, Oikawa-san,” Tobio frowned, his brow wrinkling in confusion. “Surely, you must know that I know the answer to that question already. Why do you think I’m doing what I am?” 
As Tobio just gazed at him in utter bewilderment, Tooru experienced one of his rare moments of humanity: he felt bad for Tobio. He really did. Sure, he didn’t want to help the kid surpass him—but right now, he wasn’t looking at Tobio as a volleyball player. He was looking at him as a person, and it made him sad because he knew that Tobio was in for a world of pain. 
And there wasn’t a damn thing that Tooru could say that would change that. Tobio had long since left the station, and he was on a collision course with reality. When it would hit, Tooru couldn’t say—but he could scream all he wanted for Tobio to stop, and it would amount to nothing. Tobio couldn’t hear him over the piercing whistle of his own self-importance. The only thing that Tooru could do as his senpai was let him learn the hard way and hope he emerged better for it. 
“If you know the answer, then your skills as the setter aren’t the problem, are they?” Tooru smiled wanly and threw up his hands while shaking his head in a “beats me” gesture. “And if you aren’t the problem, then there’s not any advice I can give you.” 
“Hmm. I guess you’re right, Oikawa-san,” Tobio murmured, pinching his chin and looking down at the gym floor as he fell deep into thought. After several seconds of consideration, he flicked his gaze back up to Tooru. “Well, I appreciate it anyway. Sorry for wasting your time.” He dipped his head in the slightest rendition of a bow, and then he was walking away, marching towards the gym exit. 
The only person’s time you’ve wasted is your own, kid. I have advice, but you won’t listen, Tooru thought as he watched Tobio walk away, his smile drooping a little. Really, it was sad, the tunnel vision that Tobio had locked himself into. It was worse because Tooru knew that Tobio had no chance; he was more far gone than Tooru ever was. Tooru could pull a Hajime, knock him upside the head and yell at him all day long, but he knew that Tobio would just call him a jealous asshole and let it go through one ear and out the other. 
Tobio was alone, and he’d stay that way until he learned that it’s not a crown that makes a king. 
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It sure is a long way to fall when you place yourself completely out of reach, huh, Tobio-chan?
Tooru knew he should get going, but there was something about the warm spring evening that made him linger. Lounging on a bench, he craned his neck back to watch the sunset dye the cloudy sky in hues of red, orange, and gold. The colors of a crown, Tooru thought with a slight smirk. It was like the sky had absorbed it—soaked up the pigments of the diadem that had so ruthlessly been knocked from Tobio’s head and shattered to a million pieces on the gymnasium floor. For the little prince who so desperately wished to be a king had finally looked around and found his castle cold and empty. 
Ah, but Tooru wasn’t really that sentimental. The sunset was pretty and the spring breeze invigorating, sure—but that’s not what made Tooru stay. No, it was the inevitable that led him to remain outside this long-empty gymnasium. Empty, save for one lost soul looking for where he went wrong. 
“Oikawa-san…”
Tooru didn’t pull his gaze from the saturated sky as Tobio’s shadow fell over him. The boy lingered for a moment, shadow shifting over Tooru as he awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to another; then, he stiffly sat down on the bench next to him. It was only then that Tooru tore his gaze from the heavens, peering out of the corners of his eyes at the boy who’d been thrown viciously from its golden heights. 
“I didn’t know you came to watch,” Tobio murmured. He was hunched over, hands clasped tightly between his spread knees. The golden light of the fading sun made the white knuckle bones glaring beneath his skin look even more prominent. 
“I was in the neighborhood.” 
“In the neighborhood…” Tobio echoed. His voice was so soft that it seemed like the breeze had carried it away. After several seconds of silence, Tobio released a bitter laugh and hung his head. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” 
“Me too.” 
The spontaneous admission surprised both of them, though Tooru didn’t allow his shock to show. He kept his face impassive aside from a momentary widening of his eyes, while Tobio’s head snapped back up to stare owlishly at him. Despite it being something Tooru never thought he’d admit aloud, it was the truth, and so he didn’t attempt to correct himself. He just gazed levelly at Tobio, waiting for the walls he’d erected around himself to finally crumble. 
As they fell, tears sprung to Tobio’s eyes. He hastily dropped his head so Tooru wouldn’t see; even in utter defeat, the boy still clung to his pride. Tooru didn’t know if that was pitiful or admirable. 
“Oikawa-san, I…” he whispered. He could hide his tears all he liked, but he couldn’t conceal how they thickened his voice and made it tremble. He’d unclasped his hands and was now clutching tightly at his knees; his fingers dug more into his skin as he choked out, “Why didn’t you tell me?” 
Melancholy quickly morphed into anger, and Tobio quickly lost all notion of hiding his tears. He whipped his head up to scowl at Tooru, and the blaze in his black eyes made his tears shine. 
“You knew! You knew this was going to happen, and you let me do it anyway! Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you—”
“Would you have listened?” Tooru interrupted. Though Tobio seethed with anger, Tooru was unperturbed; with his elbow propped on the arm of the bench to hold his cheek in his hand, he just regarded Tobio with hooded eyes and a slight purse of his lips. “If I’d told you that this would happen, would you honestly have taken me seriously?” 
Tobio’s rage evaporated as quickly as it came. Tooru watched it melt from his body, his shoulders sagging and his expression drooping. Just as his bottom lip began to tremble, Tobio hung his head again and uttered a broken, “No...” 
“I didn’t want to watch you do this to yourself,” Tooru sighed, closing his eyes as he pressed the fingers of his free hand to his forehead and shook his head slightly. “You should know by now that I regard you as a rival, Tobio-chan. I’m not going to hold your hand or help you climb to the top at my own expense.” 
He cracked an eye open to peer back at the dejected boy, and his mouth twitched down into a frown. 
“But I’m not the type of person to trip you on purpose, either. I didn’t say anything because I knew you wouldn’t hear me. If I’d’ve thought otherwise, I would have.” 
“You’re right,” came Tobio’s hoarse whisper. “I’m sorry, Oikawa-san. I just… I’m so disgusted with myself…” He pressed his hand to his face and whimpered, “Where am I supposed to go from here? I can’t give up, but I don’t know how to move forward… Please, Oikawa-san…” 
“You don’t know where you went wrong, do you?” 
Tooru smiled ruefully when Tobio just miserably shook his head. 
“I know I mistreated them, but… I just wanted the team to be the best it could be,” Tobio sniffled. “Why can’t they see that? It’s my job as the setter to make sure that we win no matter what, right?” 
“If you’re asking that question, Tobio-chan, then you’re still not quite ready to hear any advice I have to give,” Tooru sighed and shook his head again. “Take some time to think about it: what it means to be a setter. And when you think you have the answer, come back. Let that be your way to move forward.” 
Tobio didn’t protest, or whine, or throw a fit. Instead, he just nodded. When he lifted his head, however, that determined gleam that had always made a home in his eyes had returned. Tooru took that as his cue to leave. 
I’ll probably end up regretting this, he smirked to himself while languidly rising from the bench. He paused to stretch his arms above his head, and then he looked back up at the blazing sky. But… If your road to victory is easy, then it doesn’t really mean much, does it? 
Tooru slipped his hands in his pockets with a soft sigh, then began walking. 
Do some thinking, Tobio-chan… so that the next time we meet, the crown you wear is one that is given, not one that is imposed. Show me that you know what it means to rule… so that we can face each other as real kings of the court. 
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“Please help me, Oikawa-san!”
Tooru tried not to, but he couldn’t help it; he took some sickened sort of delight in watching Tobio bow before him and plead for his assistance. He just had to immortalize the occasion. What kind of twisted little sadist would he be if he didn’t capture this moment so he could lord it over Tobio forever? You weren’t a real senpai if you weren’t at least a teeny bit cruel to your kouhai after all. After snapping his little trophy, Tooru giggled and put his hands on his hips to lean slightly over Tobio. 
“All right, all right. I’ll hear you out. But first, answer my question, Tobio-chan: what does it mean to be a setter?”
Tobio straightened up to glower at him. Tooru didn’t begrudge him for it; he’d certainly bruised his pride, after all. However, as he considered Tooru’s question, his expression slowly relaxed into one of calm clarity. 
Oh? Maybe he’s finally figured it out, Tooru thought, raising his eyebrow as a little smirk danced on his lips. 
“The role of the setter is to bring out the best in the rest of the team,” Tobio answered slowly. He was still a little unsure of himself; it was a question that had plagued him for many months, after all, and Tobio still had some growing to do. But he had grown, Tooru could see—and despite everything, Tooru was glad for that. 
“To use their individual strengths and compensate for their weaknesses so that the team works as a unit to accomplish a goal… A setter is only as strong as those around them. That’s what you’ve been trying to tell me all along, right, Oikawa-san?” 
“Bingo!” Tooru trilled. “I knew you could get it through that thick head of yours!” He knocked on Tobio’s skull, and the ravenet flinched away with an irritated huff. 
“Look, I let you take your stupid picture and answered your question, so will you listen to what I have to say, now?” he whined. 
“Yes, yes, I did say that I would,” Tooru sighed magnanimously. “What’s the problem with you and Shouyou?” 
When Tobio explained it, Tooru couldn’t help but palm his face in secondhand embarrassment. How could Tobio be so dense, even after finally learning his lesson? 
“Tobio-chan, you’re acting like a dictator, you know?” he sighed, and Tobio winced at the accusation. Tooru knew the turn of phrase would rub salt in an old wound, but it was kind of necessary to get Tobio to see what the issue was here. With a huff, he dropped his hand to his face and jabbed Tobio in the chest with his index finger. “You’re not the one in control of the quick attack. Shouyou is. And if you refuse to let him evolve the technique, you’re just holding both of you back.” 
“Shouyou’s… in control?” Tobio echoed, his eyes slowly widening. 
“You said it yourself, didn’t you? A setter is only as strong as those around them. You claiming that the quick attack is ‘perfect’ is a direct contradiction to that statement,” Tooru challenged. “It’s this kind of stubborn mentality, this obsession with your being right and ignoring anything your teammates have to say, that got you in trouble at Kitagawa Daiichi. If you refuse to change the attack, Tobio-chan, you’ll be on a slippery slope back to the King of the Court moniker you resent so much.” 
Tobio pressed his lips into a thin line and glared firmly at Tooru. He then slowly dropped his gaze to his feet. Tooru realized that he might have pressed a little too far, so he decided—for one time and one time only—to throw Tobio a bone. 
“Tobio-chan, there’s one thing in particular that holds you back,” Tooru sighed softly. “Once you get past it, not even the sky is the limit for you.” 
“But you can’t tell me what it is, right?” Tobio joked, looking back up at Tooru with a wry smile. “It’s a lesson that I have to learn on my own.” 
“Look at that. You have learned something,” Tooru smirked. 
“You’re a real hardass sensei, you know that?” Tobio sighed, but his smile only widened. “But… I guess I still have to thank you, Oikawa-san. I’m not there yet, but… I’m finally ready to listen.” 
“Make sure you do, because this is the one and only time I’ll be giving you advice!” Tooru huffed and held up his index finger emphatically. “From here on out, I’m only gonna look at you as a rival I need to crush mercilessly! You’ll get no more leeway from me!” 
“Bah! I’m gonna be the one to crush you!” Tobio asserted, bristling. 
By the time Tobio left, he was good and fired up. Tooru couldn’t help it, after all; it was so easy to get under his skin! But, for better or worse, Tooru much preferred Tobio to be determined than to be defeated. Crushing an opponent with no will just wasn’t fun. 
Welcome back to your throne, Tobio-chan, Tooru thought as he watched his junior’s form grow smaller and smaller against the city backdrop. This time, I’m glad to say you’ve earned it. 
Now… let’s see which of us is the true king of the court. I can’t wait. 
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suga4mycoffee · 2 years
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I just read the latest 'Kinn's Voice' post about episode 6 by @yeetlegay and...
It's truly beautiful.
And I was going to reblog it with an addition, but then it accidentally turned into a fucking novel, and I figured I better make a separate post, because I'm not as good at analysing these things, and I don't want to step on any toes.
(Also, just a warning, I'll be talking about the dubcon scene, the lead up to it, and the aftermath later. It's nothing too explicit or visceral, but it'll be mentioned. Please use your own discretion when deciding whether to read it, and take care of yourself first. Also includes an incredibly minor book spoiler, even though I haven't read it personally.)
But that post?
No lie, the second Kinn opened his mouth, I was already anticipating that post. Because if you think about it, have we ever really heard Kinn like this before?
Largely, Kinn has been (vocally and physically) restrained, deliberate, controlled. Because he has to be. The way he speaks, moves, even sits. Carefully and pointedly showing his control over himself, his status as the immovable object. To show others that his walls are sky-high, and impenetrable, no matter who should try to break or scale them.
And then the unstoppable force comes smashing through his walls, as if they were made of the most fragile glass.
That's not to say that Porsche is uncontrolled. He doesn't constantly flail around or twitch like he has an electrical current being run through him. He's got his own level of control and restraint, it's just that he makes use of it differently.
Porsche uses his control for a specific purpose, rather than as a blanket/shield. He has to make money to keep himself and his brother sheltered and fed, and to pay for Chay's schooling. To do this, he needs to present a certain persona at the bar, he needs his body to do exactly what he needs it to do (bar tricks, the swagger, his flirting), and he needs to be seen as 'the best' of Yok's employees, so he can keep bringing in customers and not give her any reason to fire him. Plus, let's be real, he likes being praised and admired, so that's an added bonus.
However, when that specific purpose is no longer something he's actively working on, he becomes unrestrained. He doesn't need to put on a persona, he doesn't need to charm people deliberately.
This is why, in my opinion, the comedic aspects of the first few episodes come in.
When Porsche becomes Kinn's bodyguard, he's awful at it. He doesn't take it seriously, he makes mistakes, he's disrespectful. Why? We've already seen that when he's working at the bar he's good at what he does, and that he's one hell of a fighter.
Because Chay is already taken care of.
The only reason Porsche became Kinn's bodyguard, was because of Chay. He needed to make sure his baby brother would be safe, would be able to go to university, would be fed and sheltered. Once he managed to secure that, albeit by signing his own life away, he had no reason to restrain himself. He was able to be himself, he was able to let go and follow whatever impulses he had. Whether it was an impulse to nap, to blurt out whatever entered his head, or to fuck with someone for his own amusement.
Which is why he started off as an awful bodyguard, and why he ended up getting choked out by Kinn. Because his complete lack of restraint caused trouble. That would have also been a continuing thread of realising he still needed to restrain himself to a certain degree, at certain moments, and probably testing the boundaries and limits of when it was okay to be more unrestrained.
This contrasts with Kinn very nicely, because Kinn is always restrained. Until Porsche. It definitely started off as a simple case of Porsche irritating and angering Kinn enough for that iron control to slip. You can see (and hear) that very easily. But then we have other moments where Kinn is amused by Porsche, and shows it.
More and more moments come, where Porsche drags different emotions and reactions from Kinn, without trying or even intending to. His amusement at Porsche's Little Mermaid Moment, his sudden realisation that he's attracted to Porsche in the Mirror Moment, his disbelief and happiness when he sees that Tankhun is being dragged back home, drunk off his ass, because Porsche managed to make him leave the house, and enjoy it.
Moment after moment, all accumulating, all inciting an emotion and reaction from Kinn. And still, he's restrained. Still, he doesn't show how much impact Porsche is truly having on him.
Until that first kiss.
I won't talk about that too much, because it's already been done beautifully, more than once. But that, to me, is Kinn unrestrained and doing what he wants to do.
Before, when they're at the bar, everyone dancing and making hilarious asses of themselves, I feel like he's still a tiny bit restraining himself. Yes, he's drinking, and dancing, but I feel like that isn't quite him letting go, and here's why... the drinking is of no consequence, we see him drink and still exercise his usual iron control. I don't think he got drunk enough that night for it to mess that up, just enough to loosen his grip a little.
The dancing, in my opinion, was mostly for Tankhun. At least at first. Because when would he have last danced (flailed around, honestly) with his older brother? How long has he been presenting this untouchable, severe persona? And how happy would it make Tankhun to see his normally rigidly controlled little brother having fun, and dancing like a fool? How happy would it make Kinn to dance with his brother, as well as make him happy by doing it?
But later, when everyone else is passed out, and he and Porsche are alone? When Kinn kisses Porsche, it's because he wants to. It's not because he's drunk, because I really don't think he is, it's because he genuinely wants to kiss Porsche. He's got no underlying agenda, he's not doing it to fuck with Porsche to see his reaction, he's doing it because he's at the very least attracted to Porsche, and because he's starting to become emotionally attached.
Thus, he's letting go.
Of course, from the very next day, he's struggling to rebuild his walls. He struggles with jealousy (and probably possessiveness) when Vegas is chatting up Porsche, he struggles with his own chill when he's 'subtly' trying to ask if Porsche has a girlfriend (I'd like to point out that the word for boyfriend/girlfriend is the same in Thai. So it's more like saying "Do you have a partner/lover/someone you're dating?"), he struggles with his own lack of 'normal' social skills when Tay and Time are teasing him at the diamond auction.
And then Kinn finds Porsche drugged, hands bound. This is where we see Kinn crack. Because Porsche, who he is not only attracted to but is genuinely beginning to care about, has been hurt because of him. It's because he's Kinn's bodyguard that he was targeted, because the attack on Porsche was never actually about Porsche, not at its core. Porsche was targeted specifically to upset Kinn.
In my mind, Vegas only thought it would make Kinn angry. That it would send him on a furious "don't touch my toys" rampage, unsettle him just enough to take advantage of. I think he can see that Kinn is possessive over Porsche, that he treats him differently from the other bodyguards, but I don't think he quite realises that Kinn is starting to fall for Porsche.
Because Kinn is absolutely falling for Porsche. You can see it in the way he looks at Porsche, barely conscious and tied up, furious and helpless at the same time. You can see it in the way he cradles Porsche to his own chest, so gently and so concerned for him. The way he, a mafia prince, sends his bodyguards away because he wants to take care of Porsche himself, even after he threw up everywhere.
We see, again, iron restraint. Kinn helps him to the bathroom, and does nothing as Porsche repeatedly tries to provoke him, all while parading around in his undies. Porsche bats his hands away, and Kinn immediately stops touching him.
Even when Porsche is the one to reach out and drag him in, to initiate an actual kiss, he pulls away. Because he thinks it's 100% the drug in Porsche's system that makes him do it. It's only when Porsche brings up the kiss at the pier that Kinn realises Porsche might actually, genuinely want him back. Even if he doesn't assume Porsche is getting emotionally attached, he just got confirmation that Porsche remembers that kiss, and seemingly doesn't have a problem with it. We all know by now that Porsche would have kicked his door in and tried to beat him to death with a shoe or something, if he objected to Kinn kissing him that night. Porsche isn't subtle, and he's not really a good liar. Kinn knows that, which means he also knows that Porsche doing and saying nothing in response to it means, at the very least, he wasn't against it.
But that is what breaks his restraint this time. I won't talk about any of the consent issues here, because that's been done by people far more knowledgable and sensitive than myself, but what we can say is that Porsche at least is aware of who he's dealing with and what's about to happen.
Kinn lets go. He lets himself get fully into it, he kisses and touches Porsche the way he's been wanting to. And when he presses him against the window, every inch of their skin touching, clutching his hand, and gasping his name... Kinn is no longer Kinn Theerapanyakul, a mafia boss projecting an untouchable persona. He's just Kinn, just a man who wants Porsche.
The aftermath of that night has already been explored wonderfully, but I think we can all agree that the awkwardness of the morning after, the punishment given to Porsche, and Kinn's immediate attempt to backpedal into his old ways, was an effort to patch the walls that Porsche had slithered his way through without even trying.
This time, however, the cracks in those walls are huge, gaping wounds. And Kinn can't cover them up or stitch them together. Which is why he loses his temper with Pete when he's asking for Porsche, and why he seems almost unhinged, even with how hard he tries to hide it, when he tells Porsche he's going to replace him.
The cracks widen even further when he goes to find Porsche at his home. He bounces wildly between an almost desperate attempt at control and being his usual "I'm the boss" self, which he utterly fails at pulling off because he's almost feral at this point, and being as casual and unconcerned as possible.
Then, in the back of the truck, he's all control again. Successfully, this time, because his life and Porsche's depends on it.
But then, the woods. Oh, the woods.
Where we get the beauty outlined in the post that sparked this (fucking long) word-vomit.
Kinn really is feral here. Freshly escaped from an abduction attempt, in the middle of nowhere, out from under all the eyes Kinn has on him constantly, and especially out from under his father's gaze and thumb.
He can be completely and unapologetically himself. He knows damn well that Porsche doesn't give a single solitary fuck that he's a mafia boss. I don't think Porsche has ever been really and truly afraid of Kinn himself, especially not lately, and Kinn knows that. So, if the mask is not only unnecessary at that point, but has proven to not actually work on Porsche in the first place, why wear it? So he doesn't.
He bickers, snipes, whines, laughs, even shares his hopes and dreams. Because he knows Porsche won't use any of it against him.
He holds Porsche's hand, hugs him, smiles with pure contentment when Porsche uses him as a pillow.
He apologises for the things he's done, expresses genuine remorse that he's hurt Porsche, and then... lets him go.
He tells Porsche to go, to be with his brother, to follow his dream, to be happy. Because Kinn likes to see him happy.
Kinn orders him to leave, taking any responsibility for leaving off of Porsche's shoulders, because he'd just be following an order from his boss. He knows Porsche would be happier away from his family, away from his world, out from under Kinn's thumb. Porsche would be happy with his brother, and his bar by the beach, and without Kinn. So Kinn orders him, and Porsche leaves, but only after practically demolishing Kinn's walls by kissing him like they're both about to die, by holding him so close they could feel each other's hearts beating, by having to actually push Kinn away from himself, because if he didn't get that initial distance, he probably wouldn't leave at all.
So yes, of course Kinn lets him go. But here's the thing.
Porsche comes back.
And as Kinn, without a second of hesitation, puts himself between Porsche and the bullet meant to take his life, his walls crumble completely. Because he lets go of his identity as the untouchable mafia prince, he lets go of the persona of uncaring control, he lets go of everything, because he's willing to die if it means Porsche can live.
He throws himself into the path of a bullet, unrestrained, uncontrolled, and this is where we see who Kinn truly is. A good man, willing to give up his own life to protect someone he cares about, willing to let go of every ambition and all the values instilled in him by his father, willing to sacrifice himself for love.
That's not even touching on the consequences that Kinn's death would have. Firstly, for Porsche, because Korn strikes me as just the level of unreasonable where he'd kill Porsche for 'failing' to protect Kinn, even though Kinn was the one to put himself in harms way. Even if he didn't kill Porsche outright, he'd be heavily 'punished' in some way. How would that then impact Porsche, who would already be feeling Kinn's loss, the loss of that potential, the loss of what could have been? Would Porsche's mental and emotional state impact Chay, or would one of Porsche's 'punishments' be that he could never have any contact with Chay at all? Would Porsche be able to handle losing his brother, any trust and respect he had gained, and his Kinn?
And how would Kinn's death impact his brothers? Remember, he's the heir because Tankhun is traumatised and 'unfit' for the job. But with Tankhun unable, and Kinn dead, that would mean Kim would be dragged back, kicking and screaming, by Korn. Because he's the only viable heir for the main family. So Kim, who had just lost his brother, would also lose his dreams and his freedom. Tankhun would inevitably slip further away from reality. Would they both blame Porsche for Kinn's death? Or would they know their brother well enough to realise that there was no world where Kinn would have let Porsche be hurt?
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starlcts · 11 months
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(—) ★ spotted!! NICOLÁS 'NIC' MOREAU on the cover of this week’s most recent tabloid! many say that the 26 year old looks like TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET, but i don’t really see it. while  the MODEL is known for being ARTICULATE my inside sources say that they have a tendency to be CARELESS i swear, every time i think of them, i hear the song WORST CASE KID BY TOMMY LEFROY  {he /him cisman}
𝑩𝑰𝑶𝑮𝑹𝑨𝑷𝑯𝒀
growing up on the outskirts of paris, nic was born as the only son in the moreau clan, moguls in the european luxury hotel industry . his father, henrie, was well into his fifties when nic was born and already on his third wife, to which nic was a surprise . his mother , colette , was more interested in her husband's name and the connections it could bring her than she was in raising her own son . thus , on the bitterly cold november morning in which nic was brought into the world , he was placed into the arms of his nanny rather than his mother .
later, he would be told that his parents were ‘ overjoyed ’ at his birth, but that tidbit was always confusing to him. he’d never once seen his parents display much emotion, nevertheless one that would be related to joy. his parents were cool and detached, certainly never ones for any sort of praise or physical affection.
most of his childhood followed the same trend : his parents were always absent , only calling on nic when his presence was mandatory for various events and functions . while they were not a constant force in his life , their expectations were still high for their son . he was provided the best tutors , the best boarding school educations and any resource he could possibly need to make his parents proud .
he was able to live up to his parents' expectations for the most part . . . he made decent grades and was well - liked among his peers . it was clear from the start that his father wanted him to inherit the company , something nic was always indifferent about . it was always odd , being born into a world where his future was already decided for him before his first breath .
he started his modeling career when he was seventeen , after the photographer who shot his family's christmas card recommended him for a ralph lauren shoot happening later that month . despite his mother's previous work in the modeling industry , it was nothing that nic had ever considered doing for a living . however, he ended up going to the shoot and hasn't looked back since . soon enough , he was getting booked for paris fashion week, and he kept booking audition after audition .
it's not like nic is necessarily passionate about modeling, it's mostly just something to pass the time and get his father off his back . he decided to move , or as his parents claim --- ran away to california two years ago . in a way, he did run away , if only from his responsibilities . now that his main source of income isn't from his parents , he has no interest in returning home anytime soon .
he presents as a little spoiled, but that's where nic claims most of his charm originates from. he always sports a coy smile, paired with a cigarette hanging from his lips . he rents a house in manhattan beach , which he is rarely in due to his hectic , travel schedule .
nic is often restless , constantly looking for something to do and for new people to meet . no matter where he is , he parties quite a bit and is often out until the early hours of the morning . in terms of his relationships , he's never been one to seriously commit to anyone out of fear that his family would be enough to scare anyone away. thus , he keeps most at a distance .
𝑾𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺
close friends
modeling friends / party friends
roommate ( open for one - two people ! )
exes of any sort
a toxic type relationship where they know they aren't good for each other but they still hang around each other because they just can't stay away
i would love a soft slow burn for my boy ... maybe someone who's currently a friend but they both sense there could be something more there ... it would just take a little time ( and trust ! ) to get there
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lualamina · 2 years
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What Makes a Personality
A template for analyzing features of a personality beyond listing adjectives.
SELF-CONCEPT
View of Self: Broken, enigmatic, dangerous, unpredictable, a monster, undeserving of friends, family, or happiness. Jeritza is a mystery even to himself, and his fear of the Death Knight stems from his inability to understand where he comes from, why he exists, and what brings him out. Nevertheless, his hands are stained with blood, and he believes that hardship and death are the only ways to atone for his sins, purposely seeking them out as a result. At present, Emile is so repressed that there is no longer a sense of self other than Jeritza's. For the Death Knight, there is no self beyond his blade. View of Others: Either innocents soon to fall victim to his uncontrolled bloodlust, or powerful opponents who might be able to grant him his death wish. He’s terrified of losing control and harming anyone who can’t fight back. His position as a fencing instructor, though it frequently puts him in duels with unskilled students, paradoxically offers Jeritza some degree of comfort: if someone might learn his weaknesses by sparring with him, they might be able to cut him and the Death Knight down. Additionally, he believes that everyone sees him as the monster that he truly is, so he’s always surprised when others choose to spend time with him anyway. View of World: The nobility is the source of all of Fódlan’s hardships. While war may not be well-known to the continent, evil lurks in every house. That crests are used as a symbol of status has created a dangerous, bloodstained game built on the bodies of children. However, Jeritza finds little use in crusading or fighting for change, as the world is bleak and always will be, and there’s hardly anything he wants to protect. To the Death Knight, the entirety of Fódlan must be razed. Motivations & Goals: Jeritza struggles to project into the future and thus has few longterm goals beyond finding someone who might be able to kill him. He trains as a way to keep the Death Knight, who wants for nothing but destruction, at bay but does not have any dreams or aspirations of climbing ranks in the military or serving a house. He does not even want to be heir to House Hrym and indeed abandons it in all of his endings. Emile though, before being repressed, was motivated by his mother and sister’s happiness and desired to keep them safe. Jeritza honors this motivation and endeavors to fulfill it when he can. What they Value Most: Security
EMOTIONAL REACTIONS
Reaction to Stress: Avoidant. At his core, Emile avoids conflict and high stress environments. Jeritza was born as a protection against stress, and the Death Knight as an outlet for anger and frustration. Jeritza is capable of handling regular, daily stress with a level head - to the point that he seems empty and inhuman - but when it builds up too much, it eventually unleashes the Death Knight. Jeritza’s involvement in Edelgard’s plan during the Three Houses plotline seems to push him to the point of no return, where he becomes more like the Death Knight than Emile by the end. Reaction to Fear: Anxiety. Jeritza relies on safety behaviors to ease anxiety, namely the fear of not knowing when the Death Knight will come out, and is capable of handling his unpredictable nature only because Edelgard has promised him hunting grounds. Other than this, Jeritza has few other fears. In fact, even death is welcomed with open arms. Reaction to Success: Humility and/or doubt. Jeritza is gifted, but has never been recognized for it, so he evaluates success internally against his own standards. If he achieves what he set out to do, then he considers the endeavor a success but does not celebrate it. If someone praises him, he shies from it, as it’s something he rarely receives (in tutoring with Byleth, praising a perfect will elicit the response “This is new for me.”). Reaction to Failure: “Oh” and moves on. However, there are some instances, namely in areas involving weaponry or combat, that he becomes annoyed with himself. He’ll spend some time analyzing the result and reflecting on himself before trying again. Primary emotion: Fear. But for the Death Knight, it’s hate.
DEVELOPMENT
Ideal Self: Dead. Free of the Death Knight, ideally, but Jeritza, knowing that the Death Knight is still a part of himself, is conflicted by the belief that he doesn’t actually deserve to shirk responsibility for the massacre of House Bartels. At present, he doesn’t really know what he wants for himself other than an escape. Areas of Growth: Finding peace. Coming to terms with his involvement in Baron Bartels’ death. Learning to forgive himself. Accepting that others want to be and can be around him. Developing a better sense of control. Finding a (healthier) reason to live. Barriers to Growth: Pushes others away and isolates. Past sins occupy much of his thoughts so mundane conversations are difficult. Presence of the Death Knight. Penchant for self-destruction. Suicidal ideation and tendencies. Fractured sense of self.
Tagging: Whoever hasn’t done this yet!
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hwanhd · 1 year
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THE MOMENT OF TRUTH word count: 1223 words
Evaluations had long ended yet the feeling and the thrill from the evaluation had remained in Hwan’s head for days to weeks. So when the raven-haired trainee had received the email along with the details of when, where, what to wear and what to expect, Hwan feels like he’s on the climax of what it feels like to be on a rollercoaster ride. Imagine this, the evaluation had only been a build up similarly to being on a big dipper that is heading up on the peak of the ride and the email is him hanging onto the peak with the ride pausing on top and refusing to move to build up anticipation of what the drop would be. Hwan waits for the drop as the days come for when he’s scheduled to meet with the representatives.
Just like how it felt attending Hwang Garam’s Solstice Night event about almost a month back, Hwan finds himself to be as nervous, if not more especially when it is a meeting over what well (or didn’t) from the performance he has done for the evaluation that’s been tasked to them. The dress shirt Hwan is wearing feels bigger than his usual sizing, but he kept it tucked neatly to avoid any creases and to make him look clean and well prepared. Fortunately for him, it does not tighten around his neck as the one he had wore for the winter party and for that, Hwan breaths with ease. He heads in early and waits to be called.
When his turn arrives, he greets the talent consultant and her team with politeness and without stumbling over his words despite the nervousness that builds up over time; it’s a skill that he had hon over practices with public speaking, and eventually confidence or being able to buff how he had actually felt. 
Before the consultant could rely his scores over, he finds the attendance of Choi Yohan, the founder of Kiss Studios and someone of high authority in the label Hwan is in, joining the interview session. He greets him quickly yet with a respective bow before he’s prompted to be at ease and to have a seat.
There’s a small introduction exchanged between Hwan and the consultants since they have yet to meet personally before aside them being present during the evaluations, and the small conversation helps the trainee relax before they get into the highlights of the interview. The first compliment Hwan has received is the synergy and combined efforts of Team A. He nods along when it is mentioned that the song that they were given of, Beatbox, had been a new element and genre that the company is working on and had been praised of creating a good mood with each other to highlight the song. But comes the less promising commentary as well how they could have worked on areas that had been lacking. There’s a soft sigh or relief however when the talent consultant had praised their mood making and when asked if Hwan remember how it feels, he replies. “I honestly do. I still feel the thrill from that day until now. One may have been bored from practicing and singing the song for days and would be relief especially after the period of performance for it has ended, but the song was great and spoke heavy volumes. I still can’t get “everywhere I go, bring the beatbox” out of my head and occasionally sing to it when I am doing my daily practices or chores as well.” he laughs at his commentary. 
While the room may have lighten up in mood and for Hwan’s own emotions as well, he braces himself for the individual performance remark which is delivered by the founder of his label. Thankfully, Yohan had nothing but praise for his leadership despite it being Hwan’s first time leading the role. Admittedly, there had been times where he doubted his own leadership, wondering if he had filled the role well and he had to thank his Team A members for being kind and following his lead well despite their differences in not only the labels they are in but as well as their personalities and creative takes. 
The feedback that follows up from Yohan and from the assistants makes Hwan feel shy; feeling his ears burning up since he isn’t used to being showered with continuous compliments. Being praised for being the only trainee from Kiss Studios had made him happy and prideful that he had not disappoint the founder and how instead, he had done his best to shine and represent his label name.
Following the compliments of his individual performance, he’s given his scores which comes off surprising for Hwan himself. If it had been evident on his face on how shocking it was for Hwan to hear the score, he had tried to keep a stoic expression as much as possible. The laugh he earns from Choi Yohan himself and the talent consultants however, beg to differ how much Hwan tries to hide his expression, causing him to fluster. 
“Oh geez,” the trainee responds in his native language which earns the attendees another fit of laughter over his response which Hwan himself eventually joins in reaction. “I’m entirely grateful over the scores and to be quite honest, I am quite surprise to be able to be placed in a standing that is higher that what I originally thought of. I am still lacking in some aspects to which I am working really hard to overcome and to be better, but knowing now that I am being viewed this well, will only make me work even harder, what now especially with the opportunities I am presented. Once again, I’m really thankful to all of you and especially Choi Yohan-ssaem for giving me this opportunity as well”
Once his speech of gratitude is done, they being another conversation in regards to future project, where he’s being listed as a candidate for Kiss Studios’ male trainee debut. Along the mentions of debut possibilities and being granted with more company access, he’s also kept informed in regards to the change of his practice schedule and how he is now given a bit more freedom on one weekday.
“Thank you for the chances given, and I will continue to put in my best efforts. I am also thankful for the producer assistant role opportunity and to be given such possibility. I believe I will do my best to not disappoint while working on other skills that will help my career progress.”
The interview ended up being stretched for an hour but it had been more than enough for Hwan to feel the drop of the rollercoaster ride when it finally ends and as he exited the interview room. 
“This is it. The moment of truth.” Hwan mumbles to himself as he takes a deep breath and sighing in relief once again over the results of his evaluation. 
Now that he is given more opportunities to grow as a person and with the possibilities of debuting, he will work even harder; be better, and with the assistant role given, he’s excited to be able to expand his horizon and to explore things that he would not have been able to do if it wasn’t for his scores for the evaluation.
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The anticipated evaluations marked a crucial moment to your character’s idol progression. Team A, B, and C, were slotted for the very first day of evaluations between over 30+ qualified trainees. With training reverting back to normal, and your character, Hwan Lee, will receive an e-mail from Hydra Staff with the date and time for their formal interview. Dress code is business casual, and the interview will take place in the Office Section of the building, led by Talent Consultant Jang Hei-ran and her team. They’ll be the ones relaying individual scores, remarks from personnel (CEOs, instructors, etc.), and as previously stated, providing next step strategies. It’s a hallmark moment that, admittedly, the company believes your character is ready for. The meeting will presumably last for half or hours or more, pending on dialogue. 
𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐀 will hear great remarks about the group’s teamwork, best overall within the six qualifying teams. “We were delighted to see a combined effort, the seven of you fit extremely well together. You were tasked with an upbeat hip-hop inspired track, and it was a uh, new genre our in-house producers were testing out. And there was a perfect synergy.” The compliment draws on and seems to be gearing towards that inevitable ‘but.’ “However, the overall mood should’ve been stronger in a lot of areas.” Heiran nods in agreement to her assistant’s words, having a few thoughts of her own and cuts in. “The team got us excited for the performance, and it showed you all were excited. How do you remember the performance?” The woman’s voice was pointed, yet her curled grin made her look pleasant at face value. A dichotomy between genuinely curiosity to know the trainee’s point of view, and accusatory, goading a response that could be neither right or wrong. “Hmm, let’s move forward to your independent results.”  
“Kiss Studios’ Choi Yo-han personally attended your evaluation, and he praised you highly as a leader, Lee Hwan. We fully believe in the sentiment your teammates fed from your energy.” The assistant also gives their praise, admiring how he was the only from the team from Kiss Studios, how he was balanced and executed the leading position confidently. It’s an outstanding result, we won’t keep you guessing for long. The project for male trainees under Kiss Studios is pending verification, but we’ve certified your profile as a top contender. In the meantime, we’ve shortened your trainee schedule to Monday through Thursday, but we expect your tenacity to stay consistent. We have programs for you to choose from, a Producer assistant role namely, and we encourage you to sign up. While we select the rest of the project group, keep your efforts up.”
This tasks is for Hwan Lee! Formal Interviews traditionally go over more overview notes (skillset critique), and the extended trainee contract to highlight the need for discrepancy. Your character is now a Debut Candidate under 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐒 and will have access on to the backdoor entrance of the company building, allowed mostly for artists and staff. In order to complete the Debut Preparation Task, players will have to:
SOLO: Write a complete thread (300+ words) about your character’s second interview. Take into account the fact the results, debut news, feelings about meeting future teammates, and having to be on their best behavior. The interview will be between your character and two Hydra personnel in a private training studio located on the lower floors of Hydra’s main building. Earn 25 POINTS to increase any skill on their point page or choose to collect.
Be sure to tag threads with #hd:tasks & #hd:eval!The deadline for threads/point submissions is February 12, 2023. Please, do not post mod submission until thread is completed. The thread should be placed above the divider and under a ‘read more’ if not already placed.
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youngdumbdisciple · 2 years
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What counts as a bestfriend?
//My experience of being in a group of three friends
I’m probably getting a speed record as to how many emotions I’m going through right now. I had made many friends and had been close with different types of people, and I’ve already experienced what it feels like to be separated from them. The years I spent living in my hometown switching so many schools, I always felt that I didn’t need to be attached to anyone as I would end up leaving anyway. Years passed and I transferred to another country and spent years in a different school and environment. Apparently, I lied to myself back then because I still ended up being attached to a certain person.
In my first two years of junior high, I made a close friend but not exactly a friend who I can comfortably call everyday without worrying that I disturb them. We had similar interests and don’t get me wrong I enjoy their company but I didn’t feel we were what you’d call ‘best of friends’. Moving on to the next, I was able to have a group of friends who I can talk to almost everyday, but always felt insecure to talk about my worries and problems to them as I felt that it would make them think less of me. Some of them had teased me a lot and had hurt my feelings without them knowing. And I still prefer to keep it that way, though I still love them all very much and talk up until this very day. Another friend had made me feel as if they were truly my best friend, I was able to open up to them and she did the same too. However, I felt something about her quite different from all of my friends, but that’s another story. In the end, we only kept our friendship whenever we were only classmates one year passed and she never talked to me again.
Just when I’ve finally found a true best friend for me, it isn’t requited, she connects with another person even maybe deeper than what we have. For the sake of my privacy and hers, I’ll call her ‘Rose’ I have spent every bit of my time with her for about more than 3 years playing games together 24/7, having calls almost everyday, sharing common interests and for the first time I’m able to open up to someone for the longest time. She meant a whole lot to me and I honestly couldn’t imagine she could also be having this same thought to someone else.
One thing I’ve noticed about her though is how she doesn’t open up about serious things, unlike I do. I’ve told her most of my deepest secrets yet she doesn’t and sometimes I feel as if she’s a stranger nowadays as I have realize I don’t know much about her the way I thought I did.
Rose has another friend that she connects with and for the sake of privacy again let’s call them 'Allie’. Rose introduced us to each other a long time ago thinking it was a good idea to introduce both of us her close friends. We were absolute polar opposites me and Allie, I found Allie intimidating, strong yet vulnerable. We became friends, but I don’t think we would have if it weren’t for Rose.
They have known each other longer than I did with Rose. They probably have more memorable memories, than Rose and I did. The more I saw they spent time together, I felt like something was being taken away from me and yes I realize she isn’t a thing but she was deeply important to me. Keep in mind that no one else can replace the spot Rose made in my heart, however, I also did not want to take away Rose from Allie as I can tell how much they loved her whether it was platonic or not.
Soon enough we got to a time where we all were comfortable with each other, but I swear that I mean it at how difficult it is to have a group of 3 friends, surely one will feel left out, and in the end it did happen. Allie felt left out as Rose and I were spending most of our time together. Problems arose because of that and Allie and Rose, Me and Allie stopped talking. At first Rose and I wondered why,  and tried to do something but did not do anything worthy of praise about it. Around 3 months passed and nearing our graduation, with Allie’s determination to set things right, they confronted us and soon enough we were all friends again. I admired Allie for that, it was something I could never ever do. All three of us promised that when one is feeling left out they would open up about it, so that our friendship would work.
Yeah no that didn’t work out.
I did end up feeling left out, opened up about it. We felt the 'moment’ and we ended up spending time together, a 'date’ the three of us, and it was honestly one of the most memorable moments in my life. After that I looked forward to Vacation as it is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year (except for birthdays and Christmas’s), where I enjoying spending time with my family, and friends. Notice the word “supposed” because nothing hurts more than not being involved in all the time they spent together privately, without inviting me.
They’ve kept quiet about having matching rings when I mentioned that I wanted the 3 of us to have it on the day we had our 'date’ finding out the next week after the 'date’, they both already had it for who knows how long.
My supposed to “best friend” sends me screenshots of them taking pictures sending it to each others, showing me that they are in a call together in their own private discord. I know that as a friend I should let her do whatever she wants in her life, talk with those close to her, but it doesn’t mean that I can’t be hurt by those things as we ourselves haven’t even talked for the longest time.
I mean it when I say that I tried so hard not to care, I focused on reading (got to finally read the selection series, I loved it), I spent more time with my churchmates having sleepovers with them constantly and honestly I loved every moment I spent with them, I hate to think that I used them as a scapegoat from Rose and Allie. I got into baking again and learnt geography because I’m dumb.
On one of my sleepovers, I got a message from Rose, 3 AM, she was still up. I opened it realizing how much I loved talking to her, only for her to shove it to my face that she and Allie were in their own private discord and are at a call with Allie at the moment. I did not ask to see that and had never asked. Now, I do not swear, especially since I grew up in a religious household, but in-between that moment I heard myself inside thinking 'I don’t give a f*ck’ so loud to the point I thought that my churchmate heard it.
Again and again no matter how hard I try to run away from it, it always comes back to taunt me that my best friend is connecting with another person who knew her deeper than me. I pretend to not care and I prefer to keep this thought inside of me so that no one gets hurt. When I make calls with Rose I don’t mention it to Allie, when I make calls with Allie I don’t mention it to Rose. I did not want both of them to get hurt, I wanted to spend my time with them equally and fairly. I try so hard everyday making sure that no one is being left out, only to realize I feel left out myself.
We’ve talked about going to college, me and my best friend.
At first our dream was to go to the same college together, somewhere far from our home country and residency, get a dorm, be roommates and enjoy college life and experience new things. Yet, I feel like plans are changing and I have no clue as she isn’t updating me. Yes of course, I still pray for this dream. Although sometimes I feel she’s just forcing herself to go to the same college as me just because I talked about it and how much I wanted us to be roommates. I keep asking her if she’s really sure and if she says she is, I should trust her, but honestly that’s such hard thing to believe. I just want what’s best for her and not to regret anything. The same thing I want for me.
I know I shouldn’t even have the thoughts of being upset with Rose spending more time with Allie than me, but truly it is true when I say that she has placed a  special place in my heart, not as a lover, not as a friend, not as a family but something else. Don’t get me wrong, I am straight and I always will be, I prefer men. I see her as my maid of honor who will attend and plan my wedding, an Aunt to my future children who can spoil them, and a bestfriend until with me to the end, still talking about how hot 2D men are.
Though for her I just realized that best friend isn’t the quite the right word, and so is soul mate. Its in-between those two words, yet there isn’t a word that exists for it. I pray and hope soon that I can rid of this mind of mine. And focus on the things even more important.
Once again another sleepless night, at 2:16 AM June 5 2022. Revised at 9:32 PM June 6 2022.
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scrivellc · 4 months
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Rate your muse's traits 0-10! Repost and rate your muse's traits, then tag your followers.
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Compassion: 5/10. Orin isn't completely heartless, but he does have a hard time seeing things from the perspectives of others. He won't leave you for dead or anything, but he will roll your eyes if you have the nerve to show discomfort or pain while he's pulling you out of a ditch. Bitterness: 7.5/10. He will hold a grudge forever. Even if he says he forgives he never forgets. Happiness: 4/10. Despite his cackling persona and general...vibe, when he's not high or otherwise distracted, Orin is pretty miserable at his core. He seeks out sensation and euphoria in extreme ways since just generating joy on his own is something he's only gotten worse at as he's gotten older. Politeness: 5/10. It really depends on who you are. Orin knows his way around polite conversation and can play the game when he really has to or in the off chance he actually respects someone. But over all he's brash and outspoken and given to saying the most bizarre and off-putting shit without realizing. It really could go either way. Chivalry: -1/10. Idk what to yell ya, the dude kinda sucks Pride: 9/10. He may have a lot of baggage and emotional issues, but this does not stop Orin from believing he is the greatest gift to the world that has ever existed. If it wasn't for Wrath then Pride would be his main deadly sin (with plenty of lust on the side). Honesty: 9/10. Orin very rarely outright lies and honestly can be a bit too forward, admitting to things most other people wouldn't give away under threat of torture. This has a lot to do with his self-focused nature where he just expects his way of thinking and way of seeing things is a reasonable default for everyone else in the world. Also, he definitely has come to believe a lot of his own shit even if it's not the exact truth. There are definitely things he doesn't say, but he doesn't consider that lying. Bravery: 7.5/10. It's less bravery and more so being dumb as a box of rocks and a feeling of invincibility. Recklessness: 10/10. He does not think things through. It is not in his nature. Ambition: 8/10. He's basically achieved all he wants out of life (you know, besides genuine happiness). It took a lot of ambition to get where he is in life, but now that he's there he's happy to coast. Loyalty: 10/10. If he's decided he likes you then there's no getting rid of him. I'm so so sorry. He is extremely ride or die. Love: 8/10. He's bad at showing it, but Orin is so full of love that it makes him feel sick inside. It makes him feel weak and vulnerable, so he does everything he can to hide that side of himself from the world, away from anyone who might see that love inside of him and want to get a better look. Sense of family: 6/10. His own family is basically in pieces, and he has an idea of family in his head that does make him feel warm, but he knows it isn't something he currently has in his life. He chose to separate himself from his family, and he doesn't regret it, but if someone were to make a space for him within their own family he'd gladly take it (once he'd gotten over himself of course). Attractiveness: 10/10. His character description literally includes that he is handsome, and sometimes he's even referred to as a "Pretty Boy". Orin is attractive and not at all afraid to show off and sing his own praises when it comes to his looks. Agility: 7/10. He's not about to do ballet or anything, but he's able to move his long limbs in a way that shows some level of physical control. Sex drive: 100/10. He's a dog and proud of it. If asked to have sex his answer is almost always going to be yes. Gender is irrelevant. If you're hot and willing then he is down.
tagged by: Stole this from @dogtccth Tagging: Do whatever you want, I'm not your dad.
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markandyxii · 2 years
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So, I had the most effective therapy session today. When it comes to really thinking about who I am and what is going on with me.
So recently I have been talking to my therapist about my struggles recently about being comfortable with my body. I have some body issues. Not just normal, I dislike the way I look (there are days I think I look good and cute, then there are days I despise myself). I want to vary the way I express myself because I am not super tied to being masculine. I want to piece my ears, we are nail polish and put make-up on my face. I want to be able to swing between being a rugged outdoorsman and femboy as I fancy.
I want to feel comfortable about being able to oscillate between them as I feel. I want to be able to express the fluidity of which my gender expresses. But I am so afraid of stepping out of the bounds that society and (as we found out in therapy) my upbringing have built for me.
Part of my fear is that I care a lot about what people think of me. A portion of that comes from wanting to please my parents, my mom especially. And she was a hard woman, sometimes, to please. I remember when I would be silly and she would berate me for it when it annoyed her. I also thrive on praise, I want to know I am doing well.
There is also something to be said about the feelings of inadequacy that growing up in the church can give you. It's supposed to be this hopeful message about how no one is perfect, but we are saved from the punishment of our sins by the sacrifice of Jesus. It should be comforting to know that I am not perfect. But, when you have to weekly dwell, at communion, on your sins and ask for forgiveness again and again because every little thing you do or think is scrutinized by an omniscient/omnipresent invisible God, you instead begin to internalize that negative self talk. You incorporate the 'you are a flawed and disgusting thing because of your sins'.
I was deep in that emotional manipulative and abusive thinking that is supposed to make you feel the Holy Spirit in you. For a time, it does. I was at church camp a lot and the mixture of pubescent hormones and that emotional manipulation is a potent cocktail.
Finally, my experiences of always feeling like an outsider or unworthy go all the way back to kindergarten. It happened when I had to change classrooms a few weeks into the school year. I went from a class of peers to mixed grade class, then moved to a different school entirely for the rest of kindergarten. So it took me a minute to make friends, and then when I had friends, we moved across the country to Kentucky in 2nd grade and I had to start all over again.
I struggled perennially to make lasting friends for many years in elementary and middle school. Didn't really have good friends until high school. But my longest maintained friendship is from someone I met as an adult. I've tried hard to make friends, but it is hard to penetrate into already established friend groups.
All of this is to say, the reason I care so much about what others think about me, and my desire to want praise and acceptance and inclusion is because it was something I never could hold on to growing up. Being teased by kids, chastised by my mother and told I don't measure up by the church for simple trying to be my authentic self. I tried to adhere to my perspective of their expectations for me. I tried to mold myself into an image that they would like while alienating who I am actually am.
And I am still afraid of expressing my authenticity, specifically in front of my parents and my in-laws.
If I was still in Colorado, I might feel more free to pierce my ears, paint my nails, color my hair, or paint my face. But doing all that and sharing a dinner table with my mother and father? I'm nearly 35 years old and the thought of disappointing them or having awkward conversations really terrifies me.
Anyway, I want to be able to indulge the urges I have to express my more feminine feelings, but I am still working up the courage to not care what others, specifically family, think about it.
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