#but in fucking retrospect everything he said to me was genuinely fucked up. because he would tell me straight to my face that he wanted to

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

(SAMS related)

Hey so maybe this is a stupid question, but I'm curious to hear your opinion....

What do you think they're doing with BloodMoon? On the one hand they're acknowledging how BloodMoons known nothing but hate and being used, which makes me sympathetic and seems to indicate a direction of change/redemption. But on the other hand, its FUCKING BLOODMOON. Hes garnered hate because hes an insane psychopath that has admitted that they enjoy the killing and dont see it as a curse. That's not someone you leave loose or free. It seems that solution is to kill them again, but that also seems like a waste cuz they JUST came back and now have a custom VR model.

I dunno, I'm sorry for rambling, I just want to hear what others think. Cuz to me they're giving us plenty of reasons and tidbits to want a BloodMoon redemption of some sort, but BloodMoon has seemed to make it very clear that they dont want to stop being the bloodthirsty killing machine and have "killed" and/or burned bridges with the individuals who would have TRIED to accept them. So I'm confused on how to feel and what to think....

I don't know honestly.

On one hand, they point out constantly BloodMoon's abandonment issues and him being constantly used as a tool.

While I am disappointed with how KC's death was handled, I do agree that he needed to be fridged by Bloodmoon in this case. (I just wish the circumstances aligned so KC didn't antagonize him for no reason and didn't throw his life away for no reason. And due to his inaction caused many more homeless people to possibly die, and now it seems like he was just feeding the homeless for clout on tinder and not genuinely care about these people.... I honestly find the stupid easy jabs at the homeless in the sams series kinda gross and while it has been toned down I still wish it would stop all together...)

And what I really think will happen, Bloodmoon wants to be fixed... but since his introduction... Bloodmoon (well, the old Bloodmoon, not the Bloodmoon based on Ruin's SAMS wiki lore... cause remember. This is Bloodmoon 2.0 with not all his memories in tact.)

He did seem to lament that he had these bloody cravings.

Yeah. I haven't forgotten this episode. Released on the Day of the actual Blood Moon.

(I kinda miss when they used to talk with their hands to convey which twin was which)

It was the first time we as a fanbase realized that his urge to kill is more of an addiction and he has said as much a few times.

And retrospectively, looking back on this episode, (cus at this point I didn't care about bloodmoon back then. It always takes me a bit to warm up to a new SAMS character) Bloodmoon is exceedingly lonely.

He has himself. But that's all. no one will ever really get him or understand him. And I think there's a great lament with that. Being unable to be understood from anyone outside of your twin or 'other'. Yeah, you have eachother, but no one else.

I'm wondering if Bloodmoon 2.0 has this episode in his memories. As he seems to be determined to rip and tear and kill.

My working theory right now is that Nice Eclipse WILL fix Bloodmoon as he wants..... but he'll also fix his cravings.

The best case scenario is that Bloodmoon will only crave shades of red.... and rare steaks....

or... this might cause complications in the duality of their nature, and maybe one of the twins might get broken, with the other needing to be alone for the first time since they woke up.

I don't know. I really think Nice Eclipse will pull through... and give Bloodmoon everything he wants, and more. Because I don't think Eclipse will readily fix Bloodmoon in his entirety and just let a homicidal maniac run loose and terrorizing everyone.

Bloodmoon was the only person Sun felt guilty about, and even Old Moon felt as if Bloodmoon, given enough time and the right circumstances could change.

We also know that Ruin Eclipse is possessed by the Ruin Virus. So he isn't in his right mind, and can easily be redeemed as well. He just needs that virus out of him.

I'm already seeing a lot of parallels with the Eclipse and Lunar takeover. And How Lunar was developing more as a person and strongly learning Eclipse was bad for him and the side of good.

Meanwhile, Bloodmoon is slowly figuring out that he's been used his whole life and he no longer wants to be a weapon for others. The only way he can prevent himself from being a tool in this way, is to not play the game.

Which I think Nice Eclipse is the key.

#tsams #sams #fnaf #danachan's asks #danachan's rants #danachan's replies

[kingconia]

Hello hello hope everything is going well today! May I request 11. From the prompt list with maybe Epel or Ace? Take your time and look after yourself yeah?

A/N: greetings. i hope that your day was fine as well. thank you very much =} i chose Ace for this one. i hope you don't mind.

ace trappola × gn!reader

11. ”I think you and I make an amazingly stupid couple.”

”I know! Our two braincells combined together make for quality entertainment and a unique kind of stupidity.”

•

Everything started with Deuce's thoughtless remark about how strangely glued Ace and you seemed to be. Much like a pair of lovers. And though a sentence itself wasn't offensive—in fact Deuce didn't even realise what had he said—he should've know better than to bring this up in front of students. Because everyone know what happens, when a school starts to ship someone! It never ends!

A week full of jokes from others—because, of course, Cater managed to drag all houses into that mess—made Ace and you come to conclusion, that maybe, Deuce needs to be punished.

(In retrospective, you couldn't name at least one reason either why you thought it was a good idea, or why you chose Deuce from all the people.)

Nevertheless, all these events brought you to his exact point, where Crowley found out about your prank—that went wrong—and sent you to wash the floor in the cafeteria.

Oh, and Riddle put a collar on Ace.

So, yes, now both of you were useless.

”I can't believe that they are blaming us,” Ace groaned, leaning on his broom lazily, hardly making anything for an hour of being here. ”Like, they started it. Isn't it stupid?!”

You sighed in agreement, stopping your attempts to wash the floor.

”Tell me about that, Ace... And these rumours, don't they sound ridiculous?” You huffed, shaking your head. ”Like, I think you and I make an amazingly stupid couple, anyway.”

In a good way, actually.

Truth to be told, you liked Ace. At first as a friend, and much later as a, well, possible lover. You never admitted that aloud to anyone, not even to Grim—for better, probably—and after what happened, didn't even plan to.

You was kind of... Mad at Ace?

The thing was, when Deuce brought it up, he suddenly started to deny it so loudly and aggressively, that it actually seemed offensive. But you got the hint. Really. Not like you waited for your feelings to be returned, but...

”I know!” Ace nodded quickly. ”Our two braincells combined together make for quality entertainment and a unique kind of stupidity.”

”That sounds awful,” you said, rubbing your cheek.

”I actually find it hilarious,” he hummed, more thoughtful this time. His eyes fell on the window, instead. ”Such a shame we aren't dating.”

You stopped, confused. Was he giving you mixed signals or you were simply overreacting?

”Well, and whose fault is that, Ace?”

What should've been a joke, low-key turned out to came out as a genuine question.

”What?!” Ace choked on the air. ”Clearly not mine.”

Your willingness to apologise vanished instantly, instead, growing in a pure irritation. Like hell it wasn't his fault! Whose then?

”Are you implying on me, mister hey, Deuce, stop being such an idiot! Y/n and I are not dating?”

Ace frowned at you as if you just said something unbelievable rude.

”Yeah, because I was protecting your honour! What was yours justification for saying ”We would never”, though?”

You gasped scandalously. How dared he to assume that you would actually never date him?

”I was protecting your honour!”

Both of you made a step forward hastily, completely forgetting about the fact that floor was wet. Instead of continuing bicker uselessly, Ace and you tripped, falling on the ground with a crushingly loud sound.

You felt your chest hitting against a cold surface, and you only managed to cover your face.

”Fuck.”

You glared up at Ace, who felt on his butt, and now was groaning in clear pain.

For a minute, both of you were recovering.

”So,” Ace started calmly, first to break this silence, ”you like me, prefect?”

You sighed.

”Yeah... And you, Ace?”

You saw his round face reddening instantly at this question, and couldn't help but wonder if you look that embarrassed as well.

"Yeah... Same.”

”Cool.” You mumbled awkwardly.

”Cool.” He nodded, no less shy.

As your eyes met, though, the laugh escaped your chests, an absurdity of the whole situation dawning on you only now.

You spent a whole week, being offended by being called a couple—and, secretly, by the fact that both of you refused to be called as such—only to realise that you, in fact, were a couple.

How stupid.

”An amazingly stupid couple in the action,” Ace muttered, leaning to touch your hand.

You smiled, putting weight on him, to stand up.

As he helped, bringing you closer to him, in an attempt to hug, someone interrupted you with a sudden cough.

”I would appreciate if... An amazingly stupid couple will finish their cleaning in time.”

A smile disappeared from your lips, when you noticed Crowley, standing in the doors, studying both of you with a mix of amusement and disgust.

The silence was... Loud.

It became even louder when Ace reminded you that as soon as Deuce realises that he was pranked for nothing, an ice latte wouldn't be enough to save your asses from his rage.

Well. At least you were together in this, right?

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #ace trappola #ace trapolla x reader #deuce spade #riddle rosehearts

[sasukeless]

what do you think of kakashi

uhhhhh

kakashi is a character i try not to talk about because i know his fandom is rabid and way too big but let me do an exception because i have an exam in a few hours and i need to get distracted

anyways. kakashi’s character is like sakura to me in which i like the possible scenarios i can create with them because i find them funny or interesting but as a character alone i cant really find anything interesting to like. and just like with sakura kakashi is one of those characters that the fandom has completely changed from how they are in canon than most of the fan content about them is unappealing to me because its like seeing a whole different character. he also gets the itachi treatment where people see them being bootlickers and go Well he was traumatized as a child and brainwashed by the system and yes sure thats true but, hes not a kid anymore. he’s a grown man a little bit of retrospection wont hurt him and yet…

that being said i like the fanarts.

also i enjoy thinking of his dynamic w sasuke (my enjoyment of everything is only through things i can connect to sasuke) but in the way they are genuinely in canon like “oh here’s another adult figure that failed me” and “oh here’s a child i care for but all my care is useless because i keep projecting myself and my traumas into him” < which is very fucked up and not the dad-son dynamic people give them in fanon but whats new

[raayllum]

What Aaravos says : And i can better serve you

What Aaravos means : And you can better serve me

So like I've been mulling this over because

What is the difference between a servant and a pawn, if there is one?

Is such an interesting question, thematically. And it shows how someone can take concepts and either purposefully misconstrue them or genuinely honour them, which is to say: King Harrow and Aaravos are set up as perfect ideological opposites and I think it's really fucking cool.

Where Harrow sees strength in children

"The great illusion of childhood is that adults have all the freedom and power. But the truth is the opposite: a child is freer than a king."

Aaravos sees them as someone to dismiss

"These are the champions you've gathered to try and stop me? Why, they're nothing but pathetic children."

Where Harrow did his best to be a servant king as the most powerful person in his kingdom, for Aaravos (the most powerful being in the world), it is a guise and a mask

Their hatred of arrogance

as well as the core principle of Freedom that Harrow has that Aaravos is chasing, both interwoven and passed down to Callum in giving him the Key

Where Harrow did everything he could to make Callum feel welcome and at home in their family, Aaravos merely wants to add him to a collection of pawns

There are also old concept art in which Aaravos was blindfolded, reminiscent of Harrow's choice from Lady Justice. Not to mention Harrow as someone who was like Aaravos (and many others) in that he perpetuated the cycle out of misplaced love / a rageful grief (which, if Aaravos is doing the same because he fell in love with a human, would also provide those sweet Harrai parallels) but unlike Aaravos, he changed his mind. Even if their ideas of servitude are a bit similar, re: the kneeling motif

Which of course, makes sense; Harrow was a man with his life tragically shortened, burdened by regret, anchored by his own crown/chain and by the end of his life, believed wholeheartedly in the Narrative of Love. Even more than someone like Viren, Aaravos appears to wholeheartedly believe in a Narrative of Strength (especially if there is no one left he loves). Which is why I think it's so interesting like, Arc 1 for Harrow is a tragedy told in retrospect and at least partially in reverse; unlike everyone else, he never lives to see the Dragon Prince that he felt so much guilt over returned, that the peace he probably wanted (for his sons if nothing else) was not only achievable, but something that happened. And now Arc 2 is starting to shift the stage, beginning in S4 with setup, of being a tragedy for everyone else who outlived him (for S5 and S6 at least) because the Wheel of the Cycle has yet to stop fully turning and it's so fucking good?

Which is compounded with what I've touched on more briefly before of each of the Main Trio having Core Traits of Harrow that they are then responsible for carrying for the sake of thematic exploration.

Rayla is Harrow's martyrdom (right or wrong) and concept of paying the price, as well as hunting down 'monsters' to solve all her problems; Callum wrestles with Harrow's temptation regarding dark magic and the weight of choices / unintended consequences; Ezran has the place as literal king with a reinvigorated crown and having to well, be king, as well as upholding a relationship to Xadia / the dragon monarchy that's the opposite of his father. All three of them are called to Do Better.

So Aaravos being in some ways the embodiment of history - powerful, ancient, unknown and lost to time - is the perfect opposing threat, because how can you Free yourself from the Past, from the Chains of History, if you can't "learn from it, understand it, and then let it go"?

But like Harrow said so long ago, and as S4 is demonstrating even in a post-outright war world

And now we get to see it unfold first hand

#tdp #the dragon prince #tdp meta #king harrow #aaravos #tdp aaravos #tdp harrow #the cycle #pawns #arc 1 #arc 2 #parallels #analysis series #analysis #god i love surprise meta when it slaps this hard #kneeling motif #theme: freedom #personal fave

[kyouka-supremacy]

Hey! I recently read your post on, ahem, 'Female Characters in BSD And Their Portrayals' (to paraphrase)

I thought it was really interesting actually!! Thank you for writing that!

Another point is how Yosano's quirk had gotten sexualized in the anime, whilst in the manga, it's much more eery? That was weird.

I had a question: How Is Dazai Sexist?

Not in a 'pRoVE iT to ME!!' manner, but a, 'i can genuinely see that and I'm curious about your perspective' manner!

I read No Longer Human about, two months ago? And Dazai Osamu, the author, had a niche perspective on women, I suppose. He humanized them, but also dismissed them, but also heavily related to them? Of course, with historical context it's probably the average view of the time.

But I'm genuinely curious!!

My “Female Characters in BSD And Their Portrayals”

Thank you for giving the post a read! I was low-key nervous when I posted it, I don't really like being the killjoy, so I found people's positive responses to it very reassuring (╥﹏╥)

About Yosano's ability being sexualized in the anime. I know right,,,, it's part of the bigger picture issue, it's nearly impossible to find anime without fanservice. The difference in female portrayal between the bsd manga and anime is actually something very interesting to ponder on, because they're actually quite different: the manga is sexist, but it never visually sexualizes its female character (the Gaiden manga being an exception). The anime is more low-key in the blatant sexism, but there's female fanservice that the manga lacks that... Idk feels almost a given at this point, like animation studios just CAN'T not do it (I don't even know what to say? Something something *through gritted tits* 57th prime minister of Japan Shinzo Abe). On a different note, this ask came as some sort of epiphany for me because it made me realize that the reason there's so many people missing on the sexism in bsd which leaves me so often baffled is because people probably reason fanservice = sexism → lack of fanservice = lack of sexism, but it really doesn't have to work that way? Of course fanservice is for the vast majority sexist because more often than not it comes with the objectification of female body, but I wouldn't say there's a direct correlation between the two things: I hope I was exhaustive enough on why bsd is sexist although it never sexualizes its female characters, and I think same can be said for the other way round? Kill la Kill is my favorite anime of them all and the most female empowering anime (and overall media??? Idk I love klk with everything I've got) I've ever seen, but it'd definitely be a wide stretch to say it lacks fanservice.

On why I said Dazai is sexist: for one, I trust Chuuya's word

This is a joke, but funny enough, that's exactly the panel I was thinking about when writing the post– I was negatively surprised by how a main character could reportedly be called womanizer, and that is just kind of there, like being sexist was just another weird little characteristic of bandage man, nothing strange there. You see the problem here?

I remember when I watched the bsd anime for the first time, I used to think Dazai was sexist a lot– but in retrospect, I don't have that much a strong opinion on the matter anymore. When I watched it, it would bother me how Dazai would objectify women a lot, using them as mindless pawns even more of how he already does with every character he encounters; it would bother me how he's so fixated on committing a double suicide with a beautiful woman, like... You do realize that is wishing for another person, and that person needing to be a woman specifically, to die, right? Not to mention the “beautiful” part only adds to the objectification if you ask me. But all taken into account, I don't feel for it as strongly as I used to– don't get me wrong, it's still disturbing, but I don't think it's an issue of Dazai specifically as much of the work in its entirety having a fucked up view of women. It hit me today rewatching the bit at the end of episode 5, Dazai explaining Ranpo's deductions to Atsushi: “she wasn't dressed for work, she had no make-up on”. Now, if you say anything like this to me irl, I WILL punch you in the face. But can you sense how it doesn't really come from Dazai in particular and is more expression of an overall worldview of women that necessary transpires through the characters, an underlying pattern I couldn't really perceive on my first time watching the anime? So, I feel like it's less of a case of “Dazai being sexist” than it is of “Dazai is a character with a lot of lines in a fundamentally sexist franchise”. The point isn't about Dazai's being sexist, because ALL the characters are in a way or the other, but about the author writing them as such; that's what I meant by saying “Dazai is openly sexist and it’s just kind of there never to be addressed”– he's reportedly sexist IN CANON, the thing is it's never portrayed as something strange or worth to be addressed.

#I'm not familiar with author Dazai's works so I'll trust your word on that! #osamu dazai #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd analysis #people asks me stuff #This ask kinda flatters me‚ can you believe someone was interested enough in what I said they'd ask me for clarification/elaboration ( ꈍᴗꈍ) #This was very sweet ahah thank you Op #Besides the nurse / Dazai scene from chapter 50. eh.

[linktoo]

MAG S5

You have to understand I really really wanted to like this season. I knew it was a different structure from seasons 1-4 and I LIKED THAT IT WAS, OK???

God. I know people said they didn’t like all of S5 but the beginning was set up so well. As someone who genuinely is not a fan of apocalypses in fiction, they did such a good job with act 1. Jon’s weariness as he learns to figure out his newfound powers but different from S4, as it is much more powerful, and that he has to navigate literal nightmare logic. The tapes he listens to over and over is so poignant. Hearing people in the past and trying to recontextualize it all after everything they’ve been through. The Birthday Tape. The Tim and Sasha comments about Jon being appointed as the archivist being seen as sexist is SO PERFECT it’s so powerful it’s such a natural convo. I’m obsessed. Of course it was taken that way and it turned out it’s just because Jon was chosen by an eldritch being. Dramatic irony at its peak.

And don’t get me started on Gerry and Gertrude. Their back and forth comments are so sly, the fact they hide a lot from each other but engage with each other on the same level. You can see the difference between that and Gertrude and Michael, where there was much more of an unequal power dynamic. Gertrude is not afraid to be herself with Gerry, and it is wonderful.

And FUCK god I was so into the abstract statements. I know people said they didn’t like them compared to the statements from S1-S4 but hoooly fuck I loved them. They were more retrospective and honed on fears more. The fact they had different Writing Structures was so clever, Jonny really focused on the creativity of the statements (at least for the first half of S5). I am seriously not usually one for poetry but it fucked so hard.

My favourites I remember in particular:

1) The stranger (Revolutions/The Merry-Go-Round statement)

wow. the stranger statement is.. wow. it's really good. I'm . I'm really not someone who's good at analyzing poetry on a technical level but the rhythm jonny uses in this.... is really impressive. powerful. draws from that spiralling, ebbing, flowing nature of that fear. I love your slam poetry Jon.

the fear of rapid change. constant. you're forced on the highest highs but lowest lows. you lose sight of who you are you want to stop but you can't and at the end of the day what were you chasing in the first place?

This specifically for the stranger really hones in on the idea of identity and losing parts of yourself and being unable to relate to our own concepts anymore

2) Martin’s Lonely statements (both of them)

A great retrospective on how Martin sees himself 

and him desperately but slowly learning little aspects about himself and promptly forgetting and losing himself and over and over. Just very cool.

Martin coming to terms with being glad his mom died is something… very personal. Very specific that I love very much. I wish we got to explore it a bit more outside of his domain. 

3) The Web (Strung Out)

"pause for laughter" gets me every time holy fucking shit it's so measured and cold. Neutral

The limbs being hooked in each limb representing every person in their life forcing them to act. Forcing them to be someone they're not. Blood is trickling everywhere. The bottle at the end really bringing back the "addiction is one of the strongest vectors of control there is" in S4.

I think this is the best exploration of the web in S5. 

My heart also really ached for Jon’s moments of humanity. His excitement when he realized there was a blind spot to his powers and that he just Doesn’t Know. The fact that he wasn’t allowed to remember the time with Martin in their little oasis break. His little moments of banter with Martin were so sweet. 

Now time to get into the issues of S5. It's definitely missing having other characters to bounce off of since there's not A plot + B plot. It's all A plot because it's just Jon and Martin the whole time, and while it's good, it's also difficult to take a break from it all. Martin/Martin in the Lonely and Jon/Helen was a good solution for a bit and the tapes in the very beginning, too. I think it could have been pushed way morem but the structure of S5 makes it inherently very hard to do that. 

Martin and Jon were Very Cute in the beginning and middle. Somewhere along the way, I do understand the touches of maintaining a healthy relationship in a high stress situation but something about the last act felt off. I saw people complaining that Jon and Martin bickered way too much and were “incompatible” and I kind of understand what they were getting at? It was all just “I love you” and focus on sacrificing themselves for the other without getting into more nuance, I think. I think especially with ‘new romance’ you have to establish and verify what exactly they are fond of for each other and that’s why it feels so strained later on. It’s why I know some people described S5 as very “pandery” for JonMartin content. It makes me sad because I genuinely think they would work, but the writing does miss it a tiny bit. I’d say OFMD is a good show that properly explores why Ed and Stede work together so well in comparison; honouring the good traits they see in each other that make them so admirable. 

I also think it's weird they reset Melanie's whole attitude to Jon back to "I hate him" because the last time he saw her she said she was there for him, that she is a friend. The cult was lackluster too, they were introduced too late into the season then get taken away to raise the stakes

The ending was rough. It was really, really rough, I’d say… episodes 190-200 I think. I can’t quite pinpoint where the concerns in the back of my mind started coming in slowly, but I do know that ep 200 really did it for me. I was seriously forced to realize how little payoff everything had compared to the earlier seasons. It is agonizing to know that all the plot beats were setup, but the execution was… not good. 

I think they heavily missed the mark and the catharsis wasn’t there. Anabelle was not as clever as she was set up to be. The idea of the web being the one to set up the tapes takes away from it being Jon’s thing in the end. “Mr. Spider wants more” never really felt earned, it just ended up being kinda spooky and they were never intending to kill Martin anyway. The cult just got taken away off-screen to raise the stakes just as they were introduced to explore prophet “worship”. 

Jonah/Elias was no threat at the end, Jon just kills him and that’s that. No fun showdown between Elias and Jon. You don’t even get to the buildup of Jon deciding to take his selfish choice at the end. I liked the statement that comes from how the fears are born, but I just really wanted some more back and forth, more push and pull between Jon and him as the final showdown. 

But Elias is just seen as this weak little puppet that Eye uses and Jon is still himself when he takes over as the pupil and Martin just kills him. They don’t even talk about the poetic reason Martin having to kill Jon, the one he loves at the end after being marked with so many fears or anything! It’s just “kill me and we’ll be okay. I hope”. I knew what would happen at the end, I knew it would be open, I knew Martin would kill Jon!!! And yet… it felt so robotic.

There’s no buildup at all to Jon’s decision to betray the rest of the group, it’s just… it’s just so all of a sudden. And it’s hard. It’s hard how abruptly they end and it’s hard how abruptly open it is, especially compared to the catharsis and reveal of S4. Because at the end of the day, TMA is a horror AND mystery podcast and there was basically… just supernatural spooky powers at the end of it, and that’s it. It felt rushed, it felt like the themes explored just didn’t quite hit its mark, and it’s devastating to finish S5 and feel like I’ve just kinda hit a dead end. It didn’t explore the final characters and their humanity and felt like a big rushed fight. I’m seriously still trying to understand my feelings after finishing tma. They said they had planned 200 episodes, starting from the end and yet the end was BY FAR the weakest part of the entire podcast!!! I was reeling for like 5 hours just completely unsure how I even got here!!

 It was disappointing, but at the end of the day I will heavily pack up my feelings for tma and still conclude.. It was a good podcast. I don't want to forget what made it loveable and brilliant in the first place.

I just wish I didn’t feel like the ending was as shallow as it felt.

==

[Masterlist] [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] 

(thank you for everyone's nice comments and thoughts, it makes me smile)

#tma #the magnus archives #linktoo rambles #this is a bit messy but this is fresh off the heels of someone who just listened to it for the very first time #I hope I don't sound too harsh

[tiredbitchposts]

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....Thanks...

Sure i'll try my best to answer this for you

10-) Gaara from Naruto

Reason: He's the first antagonist i've ever rooted for, not for his plans but for his mental health. When i first saw his backstory i just wanted to riot bc damn, people really treated this boy like a monster since day one and then got surprised when he started acting like it, i just wanted him happy and at the least i got that at the end of the anime (No, i refuse to watch Boruto on principle)

9-) Tsukiyomi Ikuto from Shugo Chara

Reason: We all have our problematic shoujo male leads that we love. In my defense i watched Shugo Chara when i was 12 years old and it wasn't until later when i realized the age difference but even then i still have a soft spot for him in my heart. He and his sister suffered so much and i just want them happy, healthy and taken care of (he's also the reason why i'm into catboys now that i think abt it)

8-)Naruto Uzumaki from Naruto

Reason: He's my baby boy (not in a carnal way), i watched this boy grow up rooting for him to achieve his dreams, he's the first male protagonist i was emotionally invested in and ngl to this day i still read fix-it fics for his childhood because in my heart of hearts he deserves it (Still refusing to watch Boruto tho)

7-) Haruka Nanase from free! Iwatobi swim club

Reason: The reason is not as deep as the others i'm afraid, i genuinely loved Free! When it first came out, i was obsessed with Haru's character and the way he was as a person, he's extremely attractive and i want to crack him open like an egg and study his insides (he's also very shipable and i like that in a fictional man)

6-) Kageyama Tobio from Haikyuu

Reason: He's my awkward lil guy. I loved the way he developed as a character, from a temperamental, lonely volleyball genius to the type of guy that still uses the signature his upperclassman came up for him in high school as a pro player. I also really liked how we only got the reason why he was acting like he did in middle school only at the end of the end of the manga and how it made everything make sense in retrospect

5-) Hinamori Amu from Shugo Chara

Reason: Shugo Chara was my first magical girls anime and i still have a really soft spot for Amu in my heart. I know she's not the most well written deep characters around but i really like how she was an escape for me when i was younger. She was a pretty, popular, preteen girl who was an awkward mess and while i could only relate to the awkward mess, the fact that she got publicaly rejected by her crush and her taste in fashion i still watched her go because it felt good to see her do so

4-) Jason Todd from the Batman franchise

Reason: He's my babygirl (not always in a carnal way), this boy suffered so much in life, was happy for a few years, got brutally murdered, then brought back to suffer more. He's one of Dc's favorite punching bags and my dream is to see him happy, healthy and in therapy. Really hate how his own father won't avenge his death or let him do it himself, just fuck that clown already since you like him so much

3-) Wei Wuxian from Mdzs

Reason: I really do have a thing for red wearing, died but got better, on his second life but sluttier than ever characters. This boy deserves the world, he did do many morally reprehensible things in his time but it's all justified because i said so, he deserved his happy ending and my only complaint is that it didn't come sooner

2-) Shen Qingqiu from Scum Villain's self-saving system

Reason: This man is a whole ass clown, a walking contradiction, he's the reason why some people describe Scum Villain as a greek tragedy with clown music playing in the background. I've never seen someone so in-tune but detached from reality, bro doesn't even know his own emotions, on the inside he's a chronically online millenial on the outside he's the milfiest shizun in the Cang Qiong mountain sect and everyone knows it

1-) Kagome Higurashi from Inuyasha

Reason: This is my girl and i'll not take any criticism for it. She's a 15 years old middle schooler having to go back in time to fix a magical jewel to save japan and she's being so brave about it. She's an extremely kind person, does her best to see the good in everyone, even in people that attempted om her life before, she's a bit immature at times and has a temper but again, she's 15. She deserved better in general and because of that, and many more other reasons, that i fucking refuse to ever watch Yashahime, i just think it sucks she didn't even get to raise her daughter

#answered asks

[brazenautomaton]

As a foreigner who was not that well versed on US politics and only looking at events from the outside, I certainly assumed at the time that the Iraq war was a case of "trading blood for oil", but in retrospective, it certainly couldn't have been that. But the US genuinely believing they were going to be regarded as liberators is chilling and reminds me of the rhetoric that Putin is using to justify the invasion of Ukraine.

I think it is deeply different because there is ample evidence that Putin does not believe what he is saying, but Bush did both of them had other reasons to want to invade (Saddam tried to kill Bush Senior and Bush Junior was not a fan) but that pales in comparison to repeatedly saying Ukraine is not a country and has always been a part of Russia and also the Soviet Union was abolished illegally (???).

And the slogan to oppose the war once it started was "Bush Lied, <Iraqis / Children / Soldiers/ Etc.> Died." And it's true, he did lie, and that's bad, that is some dirty, shady shit. The administration lied with all the talk of Saddam having WMDs and "we can't let the smoking gun come in the form of a mushroom cloud." And the people they were lying to were themselves, and then repeating the lies to us. They didn't manufacture a false-flag attack from Saddam that would have given us a clear casus belli to invade. They held up an aluminum tube and said "See? See? This is a nuclear aluminum tube! Oh God, can't you see how dangerous he is?"

the Bush administration was making justifications and rationalizations for the thing they wanted to do anyway, which was "liberate Iraq and make it a democracy and make everything great forever and prove neoconservatism is the best." Putin is making justifications and rationalizations for what he wanted to do anyway, which is "conquer Ukraine."

And while the US lied to us and lied to itself about justifications for getting into the war, very importantly it did not lie about what it was doing. That's super important and how we know they sincerely wanted to make Iraq a stable democracy and not just loot it -- they were constantly talking about how they were going to do that, and constantly making excuses for why they failed, and constantly trying it again and again! We knew there was a campaign to "win hearts and minds!" We saw them doing it! It didn't work, but they tried! They actually cared about the result of their actions.

We know Putin doesn't care about the results of his actions or the stated goal he has because he is lying about everything he does. The Bush administration did not stage fake elections where they said 99% of the Iraqi populace voted that our invasion was cool and good. The Bush administration didn't lie about where it was getting soldiers from and it didn't lie about what its military had accomplished. They didn't install a military junta. They didn't create some kind of vassal state. They actually tried to the best of their very limited ability to let Iraq make an independent Westernized democracy. Putin is lying about everything. He's not exaggerating, he's not spinning, he's not biased, the things he says about the campaign in Ukraine do not intersect reality in any meaningful way. His army isn't capable of doing what he says it's doing, they do not hold the territory he says they hold, they have not accomplished the goals he says they have, and if you ask to check his statements he arrests or kills you.

That's really the biggest factor. Bush and company were sincere about their motives because they were willing to show everyone what they were doing to carry out those goals. They did not think they needed to hide the process of democratizing Iraq and "winning hearts and minds!" Putin is hiding everything because he knows his words have nothing to do with his actions and doesn't care.

The Iraq invasion wasn't good. It wasn't even defensible. It was a horrible horrible horrible fucking idea that was obviously going to lead to death and ruin and instability on a huge scale and I was one of the people back then saying so, although not that loudly or usefully because I was in high school. But it's not the same thing as the invasion of Ukraine and you can't blame the invasion of Ukraine on the Iraq war, because Putin has done none of the things that let the Bush administration get away with the Iraq war. Putin did this because he thought he could do it fast enough to get away with it. The thing he learned from was the annexation of Crimea, not the Iraq war, and he didn't learn how to do that from the Iraq war either.

None of the assumptions he had going into this war were things he could have learned from the Iraq war, fuck, he was counting on his forces securing all of Ukraine in way less time than it took the vastly superior US military to secure all of Iraq, he was completely unprepared for the concept of any resistance once he was there, he did not appear to have paid attention to the Iraq war at all!

[dauntingday]

RONAN LYNCH IN A TIME LOOP SAY MORE AT ONCE (but only if you want to no pressure the all caps is just my enthusiasm and also my brain being broken by those tags and that concept)

apologies in advance for what this turned into <3

so for context of me personally i absolutely adore a timeloop au in any context in general like there is something so funky so fresh about the whole idea of a guy getting worn down by time while everyone around him is experiencing something for the first time?? to be so jaded but still have to wait for the other people to go through surprise/shock at something that's already gotten old for the guy who's seen it more times than they can count????

so that's already delicious but Most Specifically i am a fan of the version of the time loop that is "a guy who has to go back and re-do the worst thing that ever happened over and over until they fix it" both from the perspective of (a) the lingering doubt of no matter what they change does it ever actually make a difference? is there anything that could be done that would Matter enough or is fate always going to lead them to the same place and we are doomed to repeat our mistakes ect ect but also (b) the thing about the worst thing that ever happened to a guy is that uhhh it sucks? like having to relive any period of time repeatedly is already concerning but when it's a moment that fundamentally defined the subsequent period of life ? to have so much urgency but still be repeatedly brought back to square one !!! and to have to see that worst thing over and over and knowing they failed !!!!!!!!!!!! terrible !!!!!

and if that wasn't already a bucket of laughs the most very absolute worst part is always when the person has to waste so much of their very limited time the loop resets and then they're all alone again??? to not have one person in the entire world who understands what they're going through and to have any progress they've made immediately get undone, but to do it all again anyways because fuck what other choice is there ??

all of this to say. ronan lynch. bc i'm not sure if you noticed by now but these freaks are literally all ride or die for each other from MINUTE ONE like ronan walked up and said hey i pulled this bird out of my dreams and no one blinked? like mild spoiler the third book and holy fuck especially the fourth one really lean into the?? fantasy side of things?? kind of?? (it will make sense in retrospect i promise) but never not one single page are any of these books about them not believing each other. there is an inherent irrevocable acceptance that when one of them has A Problem it is Their Problem and that's part of the reason they are soooo <333333

but yeah you'd damn better believe if ronan sat down and told those freaks this was his 18th wednesday in a row they would believe him without question or cause there would be none of that wasting time on that stupid trope of "ronan knowing everything the other person's about to say and that's why they believe him" nonsense. they are his family and they are fundamentally there for one another when it matters. when it doesn't matter. everything in between.

so ronan's time loop is just immediately about the finding solutions part??? about gansey sneaking Meaningful Glances at adam across the table because they both know ronan's more unhinged about this than he's letting on. maybe blue convinces them to go to fox way to ask maura and calla and persephone to read his future and the first time blue has ever seen those women look Genuinely Scared is when they have to tell him point blank that they don't see one. not that it's blurry or that the signs are unclear but that ronan lynch fundamentally does not have anything other than the Now.

ronan lynch the dreamer the dreamed afraid to go to sleep not because of what he can do when he dreams but because this time being awake is the scary part??? because he doesn't know where or when he'll be when he wakes up???? to have something so. core to who he is. be so fractured. and his family not really being able to help but being so willing to try anyway????

anyways sorry i didn't realize i had so many thoughts about this hi tldr i wanna humble that maniac sooooo bad

#and yes that version of the time loop idea that i am talking about is ONE MILLION percent what winter did to the 141 <3 #their impact is UNMATCHED #i say freaks affectionately btw #i see ppl on here call them the gangsey and i refuse to do that even in my head because it's ridiculous #but objectively it is a great name

[iviarellereads]

Harrow the Ninth, Chapter 48

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For detail on The Locked Tomb coverage and the index, read this one!)

(Third House icon) In which Ianthe is either the reader's soulmate or mortal enemy.

Gideon knows, in retrospect, that she should have finished off Mercy while she was incapacitated. Instead, in the moment, she chased Cytherea. Instead of finding her, she finds Ianthe.

"Harry," she said. Harrow, she was genuinely delighted to see you. The smile on that thin white face was real. "Harry, you're--" I moved closer and totally fucking ruined her day. "Alive, bitch," I said.

Gideon appeals to Harrow's better nature for being shitty to Ianthe, because she knows Ianthe lied to Harrow's face about not seeing Cytherea's corpse, as well as messing around with Harrow while she was vulnerable, but someone had to give Ianthe a little what-for. After some verbal sparring, they continue down the corridor together. They run into August, who says Harrow should've come back if she lived…(1) but cuts himself off when he sees Harrow's face. Her eyes.

I've seen a lot of things in my time […] but I have never seen anyone look at anything the way these Lyctors looked at us. Mercymorn looked at us like we were the picture in the dictionary next to /unhappiness/. Augustine looked at us like we were the last thing he'd ever see.

He breathes "John," and then "Joy." and books it. Ianthe and Gideon book it another direction, and Ianthe gives Gideon one of Harrow's letters, addressed to Gideon.(2) The letter is wrapped around the sunglasses, which she puts on to hide her eyes. She already knows what it says, so she's not sure why she's surprised to read

ONE FLESH, ONE END.

Gideon gets angry at Harrow because she gave Harrow her flesh and Harrow made no end of it.

Ianthe speaks familiarly of Harrow, and Gideon tells Ianthe to fuck off, she doesn't know anything about Harrow and she certainly didn't make any progress romantically. Ianthe asks if Gideon did, since Harrow has accumulated nothing of her, and went so far as to lobotomize herself to cut Gideon out of her brain entire.

Gideon tells Ianthe that Harrow has been in love with the corpse in the Locked Tomb since she was ten years old, and Ianthe puzzles a bit over that.

"Don't think this means you get more than the teeny-weeniest smidge of pity from me," I added. "If you think anything I did, I did to make her love me, then you don't know anything about her and me. I'm her cavalier, dipshit! I'd kill for her! I'd die for her. I did die for her. I'd do anything she needed, anything at all, before she even knew she needed it. I'm her sword, you pasty-faced Coronabeth-looking knock-off." Always your sword, my umbral sovereign;(3) in life, in death, in anything beyond life or death that they want to throw at thee and me.(4) I died knowing you'd hate me for dying;(5) but Nonagesimus, you hating me always meant more than anyone else in this hot and stupid universe loving me. At least I'd had your full attention.

Ianthe explains that she and Harrow are Lyctors now, the centuries will pull them together despite themselves. Gideon starts making jack-off motions, and Ianthe threatens to show her Harrow's kidneys. Gideon says that's the problem, Ianthe has to stop thinking about any of Harrow's body parts, or what she wants to do with them.

"What can I say," she said ."I love a little gall on gall." "Reverse everything I just told you," I said. "Let's get married."

Ianthe brings them back to the point: she's bringing Gideon to see God. He needs to know what's going on, and he's the only way to get Harrow back to her body.

If you'd come back, maybe I wouldn't have ended up following Ianthe Tridentarius to see God. But you didn't; you were gone. Might've been a good thing in this instance, honestly. I still didn't know if you were going to kick my ass for that conversation, or if you would be sorry for me. I knew which one would have been worse.

=====

(1) The phrasing here suggests to me that he didn't know what Mercy was going to do. He isn't surprised to see Harrow walking. So, did Mercy really operate alone? What was her plan? (2) Why would Ianthe still have one of Harrow's letters? Recall the epiparodos: Ianthe was left with two letters, "to be opened only in the event of [Harrow's] death or of the other happenstance". Harrow had hope, after all, that Gideon might yet live, even if she herself did not. (3) Ah, the silliness from book 1 again. Finding absurd and flowery ways to refer to Harrow as her superior. (4) A callback to the vows. Do I mean the cav-necro vow or the marriage vow? "Yes", I say, since they're both from the same verse. (5) She obviously doesn't know where that hate comes from, though. Harrow hates a universe without Gideon so much she had to erase her memory to stop living in it, trying to preserve her as long as possible, so that even if Harrow didn't know it, she still lived in the universe where Gideon Nav was a possibility. Gideon still thinks Harrow didn't care for her. More, she still believes love is impossible between them. (Yes, this all directly countermands the Kiss Truther stance from Gideon chapter 31, but I care not.)

#the locked tomb #tlt #harrow the ninth #htn #harrow the ninth spoilers #htn spoilers #gideon nav #ianthe tridentarius #augustine the first

[paragonrobits]

anyway while Fullmetal is on the mind, something that bugs me a fair bit is the argument people have that 2003′s treatment of the plans to get philosopher’s stones works better to them rather than Brotherhood/the original manga’s take on things with the military orchestrating a series of violent revolts and wars to carve out a massive human transmutation circle into the country

so yes, I will concede that both plans are extreme and require a lot of things to go very right; i’ve seen a few reactors questioning why Kimblee was allowed to live at all after killing his superiors, and it’s my view that he was kept around (and before him they probably did this with anyone who fit the same lack of ethics) to, if it was necessary, carve out the crest of blood if the timetable started to run out.

I still stand by my view that as I’ve gotten older and thought about it more, the more Dante’s plan in 2003 makes no sense at all. It’s dramatic, sure;  the big reveal in the final episode stands as an excellent use of animation bump and emotional moments, but in retrospect much of FMA 2003 seems to run on emotional moments rather than if they really make that much sense. In contrast, Brotherhood and the manga set up everything from the very beginning, setting it up all very well.

Essentially her plan boils down to releasing the information on making a philosopher’s stone, making people desperate enough to want to create it, and then taking it afterwards. This is opposed to Father’s plan in the original manga and Brotherhood, where the government was making philosopher’s stones all the time and controlled the means of making them (by killing tons of people they had no more immediate use for) and the purpose of the plan was to use the whole country as a giant Stone.

Additionally Dante’s plan has the weak point of relying on a lot of factors neither she or her homunculi can really control, while Father was in charge of Amestris since it’s very begining; the country exists to be used in his plan, then discarded (much as he regards his own children). There is much comment made about FMA 2003 being more realistic or dark in how brutal the military is, but its no less brutal in Brotherhood, and Father’s plan working amounts to a simple observation about human nature:

That there is no deed so horrific, no action so cruel, nothing so evil that a regular family man doing a job won’t do it every single day. There’s no need for false flag operations; you just tell people to go there and kill those people because its their job, and they’ll do it. They might wind up with regrets later, they might question it as they go, but they’ll still do it. The homunculi organized it, but the key point is that any of those people could have said no. Even if it would have meant being killed themselves, they still could have said no, and they didn’t.

Father’s plan makes more sense to me because while it still came close to failure and error, he had it organized from the very beginning; it was a well constructed plan whose errors more point as an element of the paradox of him being inhuman to the point that he misses some fairly obvious things, and TOO human in the failures of perspective he has. In contrast Dante just sort of... sits there in the woods not that far from Izumi and the homunculi mostly act autonomously until she becomes a presence in the story; far too much of 2003′s plot twists and story seem to abruptly come out of nowhere, which is another factor in me going from loving it to genuinely hating it on many levels; while it was MEANT to be different from the manga, it has too many abrupt and really extreme moments of tonal dissonance, plot turns that come right the fuck out of nowhere.

I still have a meta percolating based on the fact that 2003′s plot point that the State is an alternate version of Britain makes absolutely no sense even given a lot of alternate universe material due to the geography around Britain (it’s an island) and that of the State (landlocked with no ocean visible on the maps, and if you assume Brotherhood’s geography, is right next to a country visibly inspired by dynastic China with a desert inbetween).

[troybarnesbucky]

.

#i’ve been friends with my ex’s best friend since before we broke up more than two years ago. #so i’ve known him 4 years now and we really get along and get each other more than anyone else in our lives #we don’t talk often — facetime every few weeks and that’s it — because the breakup was bad and then we didn’t talk for awhile after it #but when we started talking again it was exclusively on facetime. i’ve seen him in person twice and only one time was intentional #but the dude is Fucked Up. like mentally all over the place and very emotionally stunted and socially closed off #i know more about him than anyone else does and even i can’t get through to him about certain things #and one particular thing is my ex — he’s still ‘friends’ with him but he’s realized over the last year or so that they’ve sorta grown out of #their friendship. and i’m neutral idc if they’re friends or not and we otherwise don’t talk about him unless we talk about how he impacted #our own lives — like how our relationship was or how their friendship is faring. #that all changed when last year my ex drunk texted me and accosted me in public and since then things have been different #so he feels really guilty about still being friends with me and MIND YOU were literally friends over facetime and that’s it #and he told my ex that we still talk and my ex barely even cared bc it’s not his type to care really #but he ALWAYS tells me that he feels guilty about being my friend and that he should just cut me out of his life #again.. we facetime every once in awhile but we’re very open with each other so ig that’s friendship #and i bring it up every once in awhile but i’m always like ‘let me talk to my ex and just tell him that we’re friends so you won’t feel #guilty’ but he always shuts me down. and tonight i asked if i could do anything to just… get rid of the guilt? because it’s not fair that #i know how guilty i make him feel and can’t change it. it’s not in my control. which is his reasoning. #but in fucking retrospect everything he said to me was genuinely fucked up. because he would tell me straight to my face that he wanted to #cut me off — and he’s done it before! but i would reach out awhile later and he’d be ‘drawn back in’ (his words) #and we’re going back and forth (on facetime ofc) about this and I’m kind of joking about it but i’m like listen I know i can’t do anything #about it but it sucks because u never answer my texts and that’s fine but in my head i assume it’s because u finally decided to cut me off #and i changed the subject for a minute and then out of the blue he’s like ‘ok i think i’m ready to wrap this up’ and i’m like ‘uh… the call? #or our friendship…?’ and i’m kinda joking but he literally says ‘no us.’ to my fucking face. and im like ‘uh…. ok. goodbye i guess?’ #and he just fucking waves. that’s it. no ‘i’m sorry for letting my guilt get in the way of our friendship’ #and i just hang up. #and like ok in retrospect i shouldn’t have pushed him to hang out in person (i’m leaving soon and i’m like ‘ur not gonna see my for awhile!’ #but in actuality i really don’t care about hanging out irl i just hate that he feels guilty and TELLS me. like I know we’re open but why #do u think telling me that i’m the problem is necessary???) #and i kept saying ‘don’t worry i don’t really care that doesn’t matter to me i just don’t want our friendship to make you feel shitty’

[geminil0vr]

"lists" | ron b. weasley (part one)

read part two here !!

summary; you and your boyfriend ron are both completely inexperienced, but one day he asks you what you like in bed. lucky for you, you actually made a list. and he's happy enough to play a few of those fantasies out.

tagged; @weasleyssupremacy

word count; 4.6k

content; smut, fluff, banter, making out, embarrassment, shit ton of blushing, mentions of kinks, mentions of teasing, mentions of hitting, mentions of choking, mentions of sex, mentions of praise, mentions of degradation, cursing, grinding, finger-sucking, spit, cum swallowing, first time foreplay (male receiving oral, female receiving oral), fingering, handjob kinda, orgasms, teaching/instructions, relatively realistic, no aftercare included but you know damn well ron'll take care of you, not really a specific dom/sub dynamic, inexperienced/house-neutral fem!reader, inexperienced boyfriend!ron, think that's it but lemme know if i forgot anything !

a/n; holy shit this took me hours !! in this fic, ron and the reader are sixteen years old. i'm from the uk, where the legal age of consent is sixteen — more specifically, in england, wales and northern ireland, a minor is considered a person under the age of eighteen. and i do not want to write smut about minors, i will never do that. so i did a little more research, standard wiki shite, and in scotland (where hogwarts is) that age is sixteen. sixteen year olds and up are no longer minors in scotland. i know many of you are from different countries and therefore may feel uncomfortable with this age because it doesn't reflect the definition of minor/non-minor in your respective countries, and that is perfectly okay !! i completely understand, hope this made sense bc i'm too fucking exhausted to tell. feel free to scroll by and find another fic to read, please put in a request for any of the harry potter characters if u wish, and have a lovely day :))

you hadn't done much with him.

just kissing, really. some grinding here and there. you were comfortable in each other's grasp, sure, but you both never quite went over that line, of more than kissing, of more than light touching.

didn't make you insecure. nor impatient. it was a comfortable kind of middle ground.

and in that middle ground, you were seated on his thighs, legs either side of him, kissing gently, tenderly. these were tepid, lukewarm, waters, just bordering on more, just bordering on scalding hot, and you didn't mind it. you didn't mind it at all.

pulling back, lips not too swollen, just pink, you smiled softly down at ron weasley.

"you okay?" he asked. you hadn't meant to start kissing, you were just talking, just hanging out, him levitating a marble in his empty bedroom, you reading a book and making sure he didn't try and levitate a lamp — that never went well. not with ron weasley. but he got bored, and your eyes wouldn't focus on the pages, and you'd forgotten your reading glasses and he'd kissed you sweetly, and you'd kissed him back and now... now, you were snogging. you didn't care much for that word. it sounded weird, and heavy, and hot. and things with ron (so far, at least) weren't weighted, and hot, they were warm, and soft, and him.

you took the time to rifle your fingers through his red hair. he'd been letting it grow, just a little, down to the nape of his neck. "yeah, you?"

he grinned cheekily, nose and cheeks flushed already. of course, this was the usual. one kiss from you turned him pink, not out of awkwardness, just passion, you supposed. it was rather cute. and he pushed you further up in his lap, not too close, but closer. you grinned back. you kissed. and you pulled away again, just to look at him.

he took in a sharp breath, before blurting out something he’d wanted to ask for the longest time, "what do you like?"

"hmm?" you tilted your head.

he swallowed. “what do you like?"

"i'm gonna need some context here."

"in bed." now you felt as flushed as he looked. to ask that question, it must've taken a lot of courage. he was a gryffindor after all.

even starting a sentence caused your breathing to pick up. "well, you know i've never done anything before..." that was true. but you'd done your research. you'd actually made a list of what you thought you might like, which was idiotic in retrospect, and quite childish, but you'd done it, and it sat in your bag with a burning prescence.

"but surely you know... ya’ know, what you might like?"

you settled back, more comfortably in his lap, arms still around his neck, but you were less close. "why're you asking?" you teased.

"you know why!" ron groaned, burying his head into your shoulder, and he felt your shoulders shake with nervous laughter.

"well, i guess, i have — well... nevermind." he moved back, face burning, with an eager smile plastered on his face.

"go on, tell me! i want to know."

"it's embarrassing!"

"i won't make fun."

"yes, you absolutely will."

"won't."

"will."

"just tell me."

you swallowed and chewed nervously at your lip. "i've made a list."

"alright, tell me." if he said 'tell me' one more time you would strangle him. speaking of choking, and all that —

"promise you won't judge?"

"promise."

"well it's more of... well, it's not a mental list. i've written it down."

a grin broke out on your boyfriend's face, and you smacked his bicep.

"oi, you said you wouldn't judge!"

"i'm not judging! it's just cute, 's all." his smile faded a little. "so, about that list... why don't you go fetch it?" he said, with a sideways nod of his head.

"fetch? i'm not a dog."

he made the excited face he always had before he told a bad joke. for fucks sake. "aw, well, i figured pet play would be on your list —"

"shut up, shut up, shut up!" with each 'shut up' you punched his chest and he crossed his arms over it to protect himself.

"hitting, is that your kink too?" well, you weren’t exactly opposed.

you groaned and swung your leg over him, "i'm gonna go get my fucking list."

getting up and 'fetching' your bag, you searched through it and found your little, blue notepad. as soon as you'd returned to the four poster bed, ron reached out to grab it, and you quickly pulled back.

"no, i have more than just 'kinks' in there. and i don't wanna tell you everything."

"why not?" he was genuinely confused. that was the problem with these weasley boys: no boundaries.

"if i tell you everything about me then what secrets will i have left?"

"secrets are overrated." he stared blankly at you, shrugging, but still wrapped his arms around your waist comfortably as you swung your leg back over to sit on his thighs. as you flipped through the pages of the notepad, you found what you had been searching for. 27 pages in, hidden between random pencil scrawls, was your list. you'd learned about sex from books, and your friends' experiences, and being a sixteen year old at what is technically a boarding school. and though that wasn't the highest form of education, you knew enough to keep safe, and to feel good, and ron knew enough, too. "so, start reading!"

looking over the first line, your cheeks burned and you shook your head. "i can't say that!"

"want me to turn around?"

"no, i — no. i'm just gonna..." you slid all the way up his lap, ron attempting to ignore that you were right over his crotch in a pair of pretty blue jeans, and hid your face in the crook of his neck, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, embarrassed by your childish ways.

"c—" ron's voice broke, and you fought a smile, "comfy?"

"yeah. i'm ready now." you swallowed, breaths shallow and voice shaky as you brought your list up to your eyes. "um, well, i've heard about, uh —" he rubbed a hand up and down your back. you couldn't see him, but he was grinning and biting his tongue in anticipation. "pet play."

"you bloody liar, tell me the real list! don't be a pussy."

"fine, fine. no pet play. but i, uh, think choking sounds hot." your voice was slightly less shaky as you kept your flaming cheeks out of view. ron was bright red, too.

"uhuh. what next?" his voice was quiet and trembling now, grip on your waist tighter. the atmosphere of his dorm room had completely shifted.

"and, um, teasing. 's hot." your eyes flitted to the next word, trying to keep your composure as ron's grip on your waist tightened even more, keeping you still on top of him. "i like being praised, but being degraded is — it sounds... good."

ron had to fight the urge to groan, not out of frustration, but pure lust. you were by no means innocent, in fact, you tended to make a sex joke every day, or comment 'that's what she said' at every euphemism, but he never expected to hear those words actually slip from your lips. he couldn't speak, his voice got stuck in his throat, and he knew if he even tried his voice would break and go all high-pitched.

"then, hair pulling. hard sex, soft sex." both of your hearts were beating so fast, and you squeezed your legs against him. it was a nervous action, but you didn't expect him to let out a high gasp, and you certainly didn't expect him to grow firmer beneath you. "spanking, breeding, maybe, we'll see." he closed his eyes and let out a low exhale that he’d been holding in.

you pressed your hips harder down onto him, and his nails dug into your thighs. you'd been in this position before, while kissing, but this felt like pure filth, you telling him what you wanted him to do to you, and him just listening, and him getting hard. i mean, he'd been hard beneath you before, on top of you even, but it never led to anything more, and you didn't think you'd ever felt him this hard.

"i — i think i like biting. anywhere, really. not too hard. you have to be gentle with me." you had pulled back a little now, eyes still glued to your notepad, head turned a little so your lips were almost touching his ear. tentatively, you looked away. the tips of his ears were burning hot, and red. you took the lobe between your teeth, biting softly, tongue darting out just a little. his hips bucked up into yours, and you both moaned quietly. "and licking." you slid your tongue over his warm skin, just below his ear, then curved your spine to lick further over the expanse of his neck, causing him to let out another breathy moan.

"fuck..."

"and, spit. i think it's hot. i've thought about it, about you, before. i dunno." you kept your tone unsure, in hesitation. you had more on your list, just things you found hot, situations you found hot, but you closed it and pulled back, unwrapping your arms from around his neck and fiddling with the notepad between your fingers. that was enough, for now. ron was breathing heavily. you were breathing heavily. everything felt hot, and heavy, and it wasn't the norm, not with ron, but you liked it.

"th— that was... good. a good list." he choked, hands still on your thighs.

"yeah."

a tense silence settled between you, until he wrapped one arm around your waist, hand slipping up your back, the other in your hair, and brought you into a feverish kiss. you grinded down on him, moaning into his mouth feeling the reminder of how hard he was, chucking the list to the side and sliding your hands up his shirt as your tongues explored each other's mouths. it felt good. really good. better than you could have expected.

ron gently nibbled at your bottom lip, before pulling away and moving his focus to your neck. you tilted your head to the side, hurriedly moving your hair to the side to give him better access. he licked teasingly up your neck, and you dug crescent moons into his abdominal as he began sucking and biting at the skin beneath your ear, and your pulse point, and soon your collarbone, and before you knew it your sweater was pulled off and he sucked and licked against the skin right above your breasts. this was the first time he'd seen you without a top on, just in a plain, black bra, and he was damn well going to savour it.

you tried to hold back moans, but it seemed impossible when he was burning beneath you, so you did what was natural. you grinded against him and whined as he trailed wet kisses all over your chest, and after a while of you arching your chest into his mouth, you realised what he was doing.

your voice came out breathless, almost breaking. "you're teasing me."

he stopped his trail of kisses to move his face back to yours. "what, you thought i wasn't listening?"

"well, stop." you whined, scratching your nails over his abdomen once more, earning a shallow moan from him.

"i thought you liked it." he tilted his head, almost smirking.

you swiped your tongue over your bottom lip, chest heaving, as you took your hands from under his shirt. "just touch me. please." ron took a moment to take his own shirt off, and you admired the freckles dotted over his pale yet flushed chest and shoulders until he wrapped his arms around you, unhooking your bra clumsily, fingers shaking with lust. you gripped his shoulders, fingers gliding over each mole as your eyes darted over his features.

"so fucking pretty." he licked and kissed underneath your right breast, cupping the other one in his large hand, and your mouth dropped open, brows furrowed in pleasure as he took a nipple into his mouth, looking up at you as you grinded down onto him.

"ron, fuck, i'm too sensitive."

you watched him grin as he slowed his movements and instead licked softly once over your nipple as you threw your head back. you were the hottest thing he'd ever seen. well, he'd only ever seen his brother's porn magazines so there wasn't much competition. but he could say without a doubt that you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, your back arched, your head thrown back, your chest flushed. so pretty. but if he didn't speed things up he was sure he would cum in his jeans. you caught his lips in yours once more, struggling with the buckle on his jeans. you knew you wouldn't have sex, not today. but other things were always possible. that thought made your head spin with anxiety and need.

after a little while, you resorted to quickly tugging off your own jeans, ron doing the same, and soon you were back in the same position, except you could really feel him against you. you both looked down at the sight of you in your panties on top of him in his blue boxers, and both laughed breathlessly, kissing once more before you slid off and between his legs. if you'd stayed any longer, he might've felt how fucking wet you were.

"y/n..."

"it's okay, i want to do this. do you? we don't have to." he nodded his head, bottom lip between his teeth. "okay. just tell me what to do, okay? tell me what you like, ronnie."

‘ronnie’ didn't think he'd last that long when your hands were gripping at his thighs and you were on your knees, in only your underwear, between his legs. "okay. yeah."

you cautiously slipped down his underwear, pausing for a second as his flushed and red cock smacked up against his stomach. fuck, he was big, and already dripping precum. you were almost mesmerised with him before you remembered that he might be self conscious, so you proceeded to slip his underwear all the way off, throwing it off the side of the bed and coming closer to him, laying on your stomach and trailing a finger soothingly up and down his thigh. "so pretty." you teased, mimicking him from before, but as you looked up at his desperate face, mouth open, cheeks red, brows raised slightly, you decided that maybe teasing wasn't the best decision in that moment.

so, you wrapped a hand around his cock, feeling it twitch in your hand as ron moaned, head thrown back just like you had before. "that feels good."

"i haven't even done anything yet." you chuckled, looking up at him expectantly until his blue eyes met your own. "tell me what to do."

he gulped. "right, so you just wanna... make your hand wet. spit in your hand. you should like that." he couldn't believe he was saying this to you, or even joking in this moment, because right there, he was totally and utterly at your mercy.

you removed your hand from him, finding your mouth already salivating, and instead of licking your hand, you gathered your spit and let it drop from your tongue down onto it. he groaned as you looked up at him. fuck, he definitely wouldn't last long if you did more shit like that. taking your slick hand, you guided it up and down his cock, hesitantly dragging it over the tip, making him buck up into your hand and drip out even more precum. "fuck, uh... be careful with the tip. it's sensitive."

"sorry." he went to tell you not to apologise, but then you avoided going directly over the tip, collecting more of the precum, and the amount of spit and slick on your hand was creating lewd, wet sounds. if he tried to speak now, he’d probably just whine. testing the (now, scalding hot) waters, you dragged your tongue up his shaft, and he moaned even louder. he seemed to like that, so you did it again, and again, then put the tip in your mouth, pushing your lips down onto it until you got scared that your teeth would graze him.

"fuck, just like that, y/n, you’re so good."

seems he took more notes than you gave him credit for. or maybe this was natural? shit, is this how he spoke normally? he would drive you insane.

and how the fuck did people not use their teeth? at this point, you wanted to hear more of those beautiful sounds coming from your boyfriend's mouth, but also wanted to ask him. so you slowly took your mouth off, making him look down at you in concern.

"ron, how... i'm worried i'll use my teeth."

ron wasn't sure how to answer that, being just as inexperienced as you were, but he tried to use what he heard his friends talking about in the boys dorm.

"i think you just, try to wrap your lips down over your teeth. or you purse your lips. like an ice pop." you chuckled, and so did he. "i guess you have to make your tongue flat and then cover the top ones."

"okay, i'll try..." but before you went down again, he spoke once more.

"and, don't swallow the cum. doesn't taste great."

you nodded, and he watched you as you tried the technique, getting down even further, causing him to grip at your hair. he didn't push you down, just needed something to hold onto other than the bedsheets, that was all. and after all, you did quite like hair pulling. you moved his thick cock in and out of your mouth, wrapping your hands around the parts where your mouth couldn't reach, and looked up as ron's grip tightened on you. you didn't bother touching his balls — that was an experiment for another day.

"fuck, i'm gonna cum," you moved your mouth to just the tip, as more groans left his lips. "y/n, shit, don't swallow, just take your — fuck, take your mouth off."

you were stubborn. so stubborn in fact, that you kept suckling at the tip of his cock as he jerked up into your mouth, body freezing, as you swallowed load after load. you just wanted to please him. and thank merlin you'd done all those water (and to be honest, butterbeer) chugging competitions with lee, or you'd have been absolutely done for. he was right, it didn't taste good, at all. it was salty, and bitter, and as you took your mouth off him and let his slowly softening dick slap against his thigh, you almost winced at the flavour.

ron's chest was pink and flushed with perspiration, head thrown back against the headboard and eyes firmly closed, recovering. "fuck. told you."

"'s not the worst thing in the world. i'd do it again."

"don't say that or i'll get hard again." he reached for his boxers off the side of the bed, awkwardly slipping them on in a sitting position.

you chuckled, reaching to his bedside table to gulp down some water, head fuzzy and chest warm with the accomplishment of pleasing your boyfriend. he wiped a hand over his forehead, taking the glass out of your hand to take a big sip himself before putting it down.

"well, that was exhausting." he groaned.

"tell me about it. my bloody jaw hurts." you grinned, and he smiled back and rushed to peck you on the lips firmly, sending you to fall back against the covers as he hovered on top of you. "what're you doing?"

"don't think i'm done with you just yet." he grinned, but faltered. "unless you don't want to. i don't want to force you or anything, just tell me if —" you shut the clumsy boy up with another kiss, clasping your hands behind his neck and grabbing at his soft hair, wrapping your legs around his waist. you clenched around nothing as you felt his soft cock beneath his boxers against your soaked panties.

"it'd be my pleasure." you muttered against his lips. and he grinded into you once more before moving you so your head was against the headboard, and him between your legs.

"oh, how the turn tables, hmm?"

"shut it, loverboy." you shook your head, biting your lip and looking down at him as he trailed his nails down your inner thighs, making you arch your back a little. "and what did i say about teasing?"

"that it's hot." his crooked smile made your stomach clench.

"that you should stop." your complaints were ignored as the humour in the room dropped, and he looked at the wet patch seeping through your underwear. he seemed transfixed, swiping the pad of his thumb over it, before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties and pulling them off, tossing them to the side.

taking his middle finger, he swiped it through your soaked folds, making you whine. "you're dripping." his voice got much deeper, and his throat felt dry, but if he opened his mouth he was sure he'd drool. "did it turn you on, sucking..." he cleared his throat. "sucking my dick?"

you didn't reply, just bucked your hips up into his touch as he paused.

he pressed on. "so?"

"yes, it did." you were so desperate that you actually pouted your lips. seeing ron talk so dirty, despite his hesitance, was the second reason you were dripping. you didn't know he'd be like that. though you should've expected it.

but his shyness hadn't left just yet. "can you... can you tell me what to do?"

you tried to catch your breath, his finger was still over your clit, not firmly pressing, just there. you got distracted for a second, looking down and subtly pushing your hips up, before you bit your lip, swallowed, and met his eyes again. he seemed to be amused by that. "uh, so... you just get your fingers nice and wet, first."

it even surprised ron when he removed his finger from you, and held up his hand to your mouth. your breath hitched. "you're probably wet enough anyway, but go on, then. 's what you like, right?"

you nodded nervously, taking his wrist and putting three of his fingers into your mouth. you sucked them in, making sure to get enough drool all over 'em, before messily removing them and letting spit string down to your tits. ron watched it all, dick growing hard again. he was sure now. you would be the hottest thing he'd ever see in his entire life. you let go of his wrist as he let the rest of the spit drip onto your pussy, the air leaving you cold as he spread it around with his fingers, up your folds, circling your hole. the avoidance of your clit made you throw your head back, as he teased you. he knew exactly where the clit was, frankly, it was pretty clear to see, all red and swollen and big. he was doing this on purpose.

"please, ronnie." you whined.

"okay, okay. what next?"

"you need to touch my... my clit. and maybe put a finger in, but, be gentle, please?"

"you've never fingered yourself before?" his voice broke.

"i tried, just one, but, it's not really comfy when i do it. too tight. fingers aren't long enough, maybe. i don't know." you swallowed nervously. speaking about your personal sexual experiences was embarrassing. ron found it hot.

he took your advice, slick fingers brushing over your clit, then paying more attention to it, playing with it, even pinching it, turning you into a whimpering mess. figuring you were prepared enough, ron gently dragged his middle finger over to your hole. "gonna put a finger in, now. ready?"

"yeah, please."

you gasped and gripped his arm. he eased in slowly, and fuck, you were tight. you'd broken you hymen before, probably by either walking, riding your bike, or simply experimenting on yourself, so there was no resistance as he reached his finger all the way in, just a slight discomfort on your part. he almost began to start moving, but you tightened your grip. "just a second, ron. your finger's bigger than i'm used to." that sentence made him rut into the bed, as he followed your instruction and stayed still. your body relaxed, and he even felt you begin to unclench around him, your ridges less restricting. "it's okay now, you can — fuck."

he'd started sliding his finger in and out, slowly, as soon as you gave the 'okay', and this was definitely better than you could have ever done to yourself. you weren't sure you could come just from this, but you didn't care, it felt good. you'd heard one way to make it better, though.

"try curling up your finger — oh." if this boy could only give you a chance to breathe. that change in movement was hitting a spongey spot inside you that made you clench your thighs together, which he fixed by using his elbow to spread one, and his free hand to hold down the other. you brought one foot up to his back, needing some kind of stability. "you okay?" he asked, which was a loaded question considering that his thumb accidentally brushing over your clit made your entire body jerk, and you weren't just okay, you were bloody brilliant, the blinding pleasure bordering on pain.

"fuck, touch my clit, please." you moaned, head thrown back as he did as you said, making your entire body spasm. you were so close, so fucking close, and you practically rode his fingers as you thrashed up and down, tits bouncing. you were just about to tell him you were gonna come (though with you non-stop clenching around his one finger, it was pretty obvious) when he decided to try something, removing his thumb from your clit and instead sucking onto it.

he'd heard about eating girls out, and it was something he'd always wanted to do to you, to drive you crazy, and if he couldn't do it now he was going to at least include his mouth into some of the action. he wanted to taste you.

with this surprise, you came hard, the heel of your foot pressing into his back, his hand working hard to hold down your other thigh, stomach clenching and eyes rolling back. you were moaning so much and so loudly that you were glad almost everyone was out at hogsmeade. as you came down from your high, ron removed his lips from your clit and slowly removed his finger, your aftershocks trying to suck him back in. your back, forehead and chest were sweating, your entire mouth dry as your eyes stayed closed. ron rubbed his hands soothingly up your thighs as your body spasmed again, and brought himself up to kiss your forehead, a grin that you couldn't see playing at his lips. he wrapped his arms around you as you sighed and leaned into him.

"fuck." you sighed, opening your heavy eyes and glancing at ron who licked the rest of your cum off his fingers, looking up at the ceiling. you were still clenching around nothing. that was the hardest you'd ever came, even better than the showerhead — oh, ron would have an absolute riot if he knew you used the showerhead. "thank you."

he gave you that dumb fucking grin, the one he always had before making a bad joke. "orange you glad you read out that list?"

"shut up and kiss me. idiot."

#harry potter #n*sfw #n*fw #smut #fluff #first time #harry potter smut #harry potter fic #hp #hp fic #ron weasley #ron x reader #ron weasley x y/n #ron weasley x you #ron weasley x reader #ron fic #ron smut #ron weasley fluff #ron weasley smut #ron weasley imagine

[thedistantdusk]

Thanks to @jenoramaca @gryffindorhealer and @secretkeeper13 for the quick beta work!

A gift for my beloved @ginisbetterthanfirewhiskey.

CW: Language and domestic fluff

______

Trying

From the second he walks through the door, Harry can sense that something’s changed. It takes him thirty minutes to suss out why.

In retrospect, the smells coming from the kitchen probably tipped him off. Or maybe it was Ginny’s distracted hum, followed by the tinkling of plates and cutlery. Perhaps it was the fact that she prepared a full dinner, long before he even got home.

Nonetheless, he doesn’t worry about it too much as he greets her with a kiss, his hands cupping her chin. When he sits across from her at the table, there’s something furtive and curious lurking behind her eyes, but their meal is so peppered with normalcy that he doesn’t bring it up. They banter and laugh about Luna and Robards and wonder what they’ll bring to the Burrow on Sunday.

But when they’ve reached the stage of chasing stray noodles around their plates, Ginny finally clears her throat… and just like that, the nearly imperceptible shift he’d sensed earlier turns into something very perceptible, indeed. “Can I erm. Talk to you about something?”

He pauses, mid-bite, and takes her in. Her lip’s worried between her teeth, her hands fidgeting. Even her hair, normally strewn about her shoulders or parted to the side with a sort of effortless grace, is tied back and resting low at the base of her neck.

Ginny’s not normally this… serious. And he’d be lying to say it didn’t frighten him.

So he blurts the first thing that comes to mind. “Who died?”

There’s a half-second pause in which his chest clenches, his stomach churns. Could it be Molly? Or Arthur? George hasn’t been great either, not that—

But Ginny just reels back, confused… and it’s not until then that Harry realizes he’s really, really misread something.

“I… w-what?” she stammers, brow furrowing. She peers at him for a pained moment before her face relaxes into a look of understanding. “Oh. Oh! For fuck’s sake,” she mutters, rubbing her forehead. “I guess I’m thicker than usual, should’ve known you’d read it that way.”

Harry snorts. “Erm… darling, as many things as I legitimately don’t understand, I’m fairly sure this one isn’t on me.”

Ginny ignores this. “Did you seriously think that something dreadful happened and I’d just spring that on you in the middle of your bolognese?” Her lips twitch into a smirk. “Here’s some pasta. By the way, a fire burned a puppy orphanage to the ground. Could you pass the salt?”

He gives her a plain stare. Nice try. Years ago, he might’ve taken the bait and chased her down that rabbit hole. They might’ve had an hour-long, spirited debate on the existence of puppy-specific orphanages. But after three years of marriage, he knows better.

And she knows he knows.

Ginny finally draws a resigned breath. “No,” she says slowly. “No one died, ok? Or is even… I don’t know, sick or infirmed or threatened.” She waves her hand and continues babbling. “Last I checked, even Muriel’s still going strong, somehow. I’m jealous of that, you know— being old enough to just say whatever the fuck you’d like and have no one question it because—”

“—Ginny,” he cuts across on an exasperated sigh. “As chuffed as I am to chat about Muriel all night, I’d really like to know what’s bothering you. Please?”

There’s another pause as she bites her lip. Then, in one swift motion, she attempts to rise to her feet and push her chair in on her way over to him.

But somewhere along the way, something gets crossed— and Harry watches in bewildered horror as her foot catches on the leg of the chair. Then, right in front of his eyes, she lets out a startled gasp, her arms flailing, before she lands with a thump.

He’s out of his seat and on the floor beside her before he even realizes she’s cried out in pain and surprise. “Are you ok?” he demands, pushing her jeans up around her ankle… her tricky ankle, the one she hurt rather badly at the playoffs last month. Hm. It's a bit red.

Honestly, she hasn’t been this clumsy since she was 10 years old and near a butter dish. This does nothing to alleviate his fears that there’s something Very Wrong.”

“It’s not even my ankle that hurts,” Ginny grits, pushing up on her palms. “Wait— Harry, what are you—”

“Need to ask Gwenog,” he says urgently, running to the other side of the table for his wand. “She said that if anything happens to your ankle to tell her straight away, remember? Better safe than—”

She scoffs. “Seriously, Harry, I’m fine! I didn’t even land on my—”

He arches an eyebrow. “Have you suddenly forgotten the Puddlemere match? When your ankle broke clean through the skin?” Even now, the memory makes him shudder. “You heard Gwenog— without magic, you might not have walked again.”

“But there was magic,” she says, almost pleading. “And seriously, I’m fine!”

Harry finds he has limited patience for her heroics, though, while she’s sprawled out on the floor and nursing a bruise on her arse. “Gwenog’s instructions were quite clear,” he says firmly. “Having a pro athlete as a wife is a group task. It’s taxing on your body. I’ve got to make sure there’s enough of you left to enjoy our lives.”

Ginny clears her throat. “Erm… but what if you… haven’t actually got a pro athlete as a wife. Technically speaking.”

Harry swallows. He’s sure he’s heard her wrong. “What?”

With a wince, she adjusts herself against the wall. “I’m sorry… this isn’t how I’d planned to tell you. I’ve really fucked this up, haven’t I?”

Normally, Harry might press a bit harder. Normally he’d demand answers— and now. But as he peers at her on the floor, there’s something soft and uncertain behind her eyes… something timid. So he decides to do something he knows he’s good at— something she doesn’t let many other people do: take care of her.

With a sigh, he scoops her from the floor and brings her to the sofa. Then he props her against the pillows, putting her legs across his lap.

And he waits.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, peering at her downcast face, before she finally says it in a rush.

“Iwanttohaveababy.”

It comes on a whisper. A breathed admission. He knows, just from her expression, that she’s never said it aloud.

But he must have misunderstood. There’s no way he’s not projecting, inserting the reality he wants instead. “Could you… could you repeat that?” he manages, his voice gruff and shaken.

Ginny just sits up straighter; her cheeks as red as her hair. “I want to have a baby,” she repeats, the confidence building with every word.

Oh. Looks like he was right after all.

Harry blinks at the carpet, his head spinning, mortified with the tears that have sprung, unbidden, to the corners of his eyes.

A baby. Their baby. A smile plays at his lips as he stares at her ankle in distracted bliss. He’s been ready for ages… longer than anyone he knows. It’s hard to remember a time when he didn’t want a family with her. When he didn’t want to watch her grow and change. To become more beautiful with every passing day until…

He swallows back another round of tears; he’d never forgive himself if he forced this… if he swayed her, in any way, despite what he wants so badly it squeezes his insides.

“But what about quidditch?” His voice cracks; he clears his throat to cover it. “Honestly Ginny, I’ll wait, as long as you’d like. We’re young. Think of what you’d deal with, loads of assumptions and press and comments.”

She turns to him with an arched brow. “And since when have I ever cared about comments? Since when have you cared about comments?”

He spreads his palms in resignation; it was a particularly weak argument. “I know. I just… don’t want to make your life more difficult.”

“Well...” She draws a deep breath and peers down at her nails. “I’ve erm. Actually quit the Harpies, all by myself.” Her cheeks begin to redden again. “I’ve already sent the owl and everything. Resigned. No intent to return next season.”

Oh.

That’s what she meant, then, about not being married to a professional athlete. Harry blinks a few more times as she plows through an explanation that could honestly be something from a dream.

“I’ve… I’ve just been thinking about it. A lot,” she adds, focus returning to her cuticles. “The Harpies are out for the rest of the season— that fucking Puddlemere match and that bullshit ref.” She glares at the pillow to her right. “Nothing like blind favoritism. Fucking prick should’ve been fired!”

All Harry can manage is a feeble chuckle, his hand moving to caress her knee. This time, he can’t bring himself to stop her spiral.

“Maybe it’s not just that match, though,” she admits, rubbing her ankle. “It’s also just… so much bloody work. I’ve been at it three whole seasons, you know? I’m a bit tired of missing birthdays. And family events. And only dreaming of bludgers and snitches. And attending the mandatory press interviews to avoid getting fined, and then giving polite answers to personal questions when I really just want to hex them, and—”

Harry laughs. “I think Sandra Richardson might disagree about the polite answers bit, darling.”

Ginny gives a dignified sniff and continues as if she hasn’t heard him. “Annnyway,” she says, toying with a piece of lint. “I… feel like I’m ready to move on. So.” Her face splits into a grin as she gestures to the corridor. “On with it.”

He clears his throat. “As much as I’d love to take you up on that, I’m confused about how this relates to quitting your job. You could’ve kept playing. Or—”

“—Why is it so hard to believe this is something I want?”

There’s a beat. He doesn’t have a good answer.

“What if I wanted to quit before I got pregnant?” she continues, her tone growing more demanding. “What if I was done with playing, regardless — and genuinely wanted to have children? Your children.”

She lets out an incredulous laugh, tossing her hands in the air. “I have to say, Harry, this feels an awful lot like you’re doubting what I actually want to fit a narrative of what you think I want.” Her eyes narrow again. “Is that really respecting my wishes?”

“No,” he says quickly, shaking his head. He’d never thought about it like that before… how it might be insulting, really, to question what she’s ready for. He laces their fingers together, feeling properly chastened. “I’m sorry. I never meant to… suggest you don’t know what you want. Or something.”

He hears the timid smile in her voice as she squeezes his hand back. “Do you still want a baby, then?” she asks. “Or are you just in it for the practice?”

A smile creeps across his face, his eyes still focused on her hands. “I… think you know the answer to that one.”

“Well, I’m not sure I do,” Ginny says flatly. “Because I just told someone who wants two million babies that I’m ready to carry his first child. Forgive me if I expected a bit more excited fanfare than acting like I drowned your kitten.”

“What’s with you and baby animals today?” he murmurs, inching her pant leg a bit higher.

“Wonder why I’ve got babies on the brain,” she quips, raising her eyebrows. “Maybe because I want one.”

Harry releases a resigned sigh. She’s clearly done playing. “Honestly…” He bites his lip. “If you’re sure that’s what you want, I’m obviously on board. Obviously.” His eyes flit to hers. “I just… I don’t want to be responsible for something you end up regretting.”

It’s the truth of the matter, really; the thing that tugs at him the hardest. The fear he’d ever burden her… the worry he’d ever make her less than happy.

Ginny gives him a small smile, her hand coming to cup his jaw. “I’m going to take that as a weird, sad Harry thing instead of an attempt to remove my womanly agency.” She narrows her eyes. “But that’s your final warning.”

Harry doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s on his feet in a split-second, gathering her into his arms with the stupidest grin he’s ever worn. Trying. Is that what they call this? Are they actually properly trying now?

“Get used to this,” she says as he strides into the bedroom. “Because once you knock me up— on purpose, mind— I’m going to request a lot more transportation.”

“I think I can live with that,” Harry murmurs against her lips, draping her across the bed.

And to avoid a well-deserved slap, he doesn’t say the final bit: As long as you can live with me.

#harry/ginny #harry/ginny fanfic #hinny #harry potter #harry and ginny

[wavesmp3]

you jump; i jump

sunwoo x reader 

requested from sensory prompts #46: the waver in someone’s voice when they’re stressed genre: spy au, exes (ish) to lovers wc: 5.6k  warnings: cursing, tiny bit of gore/blood

Sunwoo used to pride himself for being able to keep his cool, in even the most unimaginable situations. He kept his exterior when Haknyeon turned out to be double crossing their agency, Creker, and secretly sending information to a rivaling one the whole time. Sunwoo didn’t crack when his entire mission in Sydney blew up right in his fucking face, never even flinched when his gear malfunctioned dumping him in a hospital for a week. But all those instances seem to fall flat now. All the times where Sunwoo stayed strong seem to disappear the moment he feels a tap on his shoulder and turns around only to come face to face with you. “What are you-“ he falters, grasping at the last bits of crumbling pride and hanging on to the dip in his voice. “What are you doing here?” 

“You forgot this,” you continue, ignoring him entirely, “forgot it in Vienna specifically.” You dangle a watch in front of his face. The same watch he lost somewhere in Austria three months ago, at the same time that he was in the middle of the most intense and longest mission the agency had ever given him, and more notably, around the same time he met you. “Don’t look so shocked.” You scoff when he fails to respond. “You told me you were gonna be here.” 

Sunwoo laughs, except it’s less of a laugh and more of an exhale of pure disbelief. “I know what I said, but you’re…” his voice trails off, some part of him unable to finish the sentence and another part of him still too disturbed to believe it. 

You tilt your head with faux confusion. “I’m what?”

Sunwoo gulps. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

VIENNA, AUSTRIA  THREE MONTHS AGO 

Sunwoo remembers, with a starling amount of clarity, all that happened three months ago. He can recall every day he spent roaming the streets of Vienna with you despite the way he’s been trying to drown out the memories and douse his lingering feelings. 

When he met you at a pub on one of his first nights there, he told himself he entertained your conversation because, well, to put it bluntly, he thought you were cute. Although the small tug in his gut doesn’t help justify why he found himself stumbling back to his hotel room with you by his side. And there’s really no good excuse for the tiny sting of disappointment Sunwoo feels when he wakes up alone the next morning. 

It’s two days after that night when Sunwoo sees you again, sitting on a bench with a book in one hand and a to-go cup of coffee in the other. It’s an odd coincidence that he should see you in Vienna again, but the small pang of doubt is quickly replaced with a more promising burst of elation. Sunwoo can’t tell if it’s exhilarating or terrifying.

“Ah,” you mutter when you notice him approaching, “Sunwoo right?” It’s a facade, Sunwoo thinks to himself, he knows you remember his name, knows you only pretend to forget. But he doesn’t mention that, instead he nods rather lamely, shoving his fists into his pockets and burying away the voice of reason in the back of his head telling him this is a mistake. “Sit.” You say, moving your things to the other side of the bench and patting the now empty spot next to you. “I’ve been waiting for you.” 

And in retrospect, it’s quite obvious that Sunwoo should have found the words alarming. Really, he should have begun to put his guard up the second he spotted you in Vienna again. But at that moment in time, the only thing Sunwoo can think to ask is if he was worth the wait. 

Your tongue darts out, swiping at your bottom lip in thought for the smallest of seconds, before disappearing into your mouth again. “Yeah,” you say, lips turning up into an intrigued smile, “you were.” 

—

Sunwoo doesn’t think much of the way he comes to trust you so easily, telling you the truth about his job in the darkness of the hotel room. He doesn’t think anything of the way you hang onto his every word without ever sharing much about yourself. And when one day, you sit down at the cafe booth across from him and ask, “what’s your current mission,” Sunwoo doesn’t think twice before telling you everything about his objective to infiltrate Pegasus. He also doesn’t notice the phone call you make soon after. 

—

When the truth does come out, it comes fast, like water rushing off a cliff and crashing into Sunwoo sitting unsuspecting at the bottom. It comes in the form of a charity event that he only attends as part of the mission which sent him to Vienna to begin with. The truth arrives, like a rock in his gut, at the same second that Sunwoo sees you across the hall. You, who he last saw at the hotel, and you, who’s supposed to be on a train to Paris right now. And when your eyes finally catch his, there’s something unmistakable swimming in them. You’ve been caught, Sunwoo thinks, finally placing a name to the familiar way you swallow and dart your eyes around the room. Sunwoo recognizes the feeling, vaguely remembers the rush he felt once in Santiago and again in New York. 

“I can explain,” you hiss, quiet and breathless, finding him outside the hall after a few minutes. 

And Sunwoo knows he should be dying for an explanation of what you’re doing here or who you’re really working with. Some small part of Sunwoo knows that he should already be replaying every conversation and trying to determine how much information he’s given you to use against him. But another, larger part of him, that’s poking at his heart and prodding at his brain, chooses to stare at your lying eyes, study the face he’s come to memorize, and lamely ask, “how much of…” his voice tapers off, gesturing to the empty space in between you two, “of this was a lie?”

You don’t respond, but in the silence Sunwoo finds the answer anyways. 

All of it.

—

It’s not long after that night that a new message from the case officer shows up for him.  

You’re on thin ice. New mission: get rid of that Pegasus agent. 

PRESENT TIME  THREE MONTHS AFTER VIENNA

“You still haven’t told me what you’re doing here?” Sunwoo asks you again, shifting in his plastic red chair and keeping his gaze focused on the street you’re both seated beside. He hadn’t planned on hanging out after crossing paths with you earlier today. In fact, the only thing he wanted to do was put as much distance between the two of you as possible, but when you offer him a meal in exchange for a conversation, his rumbling stomach agrees before he can even consider the offer. The scene you lead him to is a busy one, filled with people rushing down the road and bustling behind each of the food stalls. It’s a mosh-posh of neon signs, kicked up dust, and the aroma of food being fried. More importantly, it’s a loud area, one where you and Sunwoo can talk freely without the worry of being heard by someone seated nearby. He takes a bite into his skewer, waiting for your response. 

“And you still haven’t told me why you didn’t follow through with the mission,” you counter, twirling your lime green straw with the tip of your finger. “The one where you were supposed to kill me.” 

You say it plainly, but something in Sunwoo’s stomach turns hard at the reminder anyways. “We’re spies,” he mutters behind clenched teeth, “not assassins.” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, taking a sip from your coke, “the job description is pretty vague.” 

The words are met with a taut silence, a snap of Sunwoo’s eyes towards yours, and a search for any implication of murder behind the sentence. 

“It’s a joke,” you choke, wiping the coke that slips from your mouth and quickly shaking your head, “I haven’t killed anyone.”

“Well anyways,” Sunwoo continues, “I tried to finish the mission. Even hired someone to find you.” And as soon as the words leave his mouth, Sunwoo realizes he’s told you too much, realizes he’s let the truth slip too easily--again. Biting his lip, he thinks this must be what people mean when they say ‘old habits die hard’. 

“He didn’t follow through.” You tell him as if to fill him in on how exactly you’re still alive and sitting across from him right here, right now, miles away from Vienna and months after Sunwoo’s hire took his money and ran. “But you knew he wouldn’t, didn’t you?”

And this you say with a taunting smile, catching his eyes like there’s a private joke concealed behind them. Sunwoo only gulps and pulls his focus back to the busy street.

“So what do you want with me?”

“I left Pegasus.” You answer, clearing your throat.

Sunwoo waits. He waits for you to take it back, for you to laugh at his widened eyes and say it’s a joke. The punchline never comes. “You’re an idiot.” He settles on.

“And I’ve got two agencies who’d prefer me to be dead right about now.” You grimace. “But despite the bounty on my head, I’m still here which means you’re probably not on great terms with Creker either.”

“Get to the point.”

“We both have people who want us dead. We both have next to nothing to lose at this point. So let’s team up.” You pause, checking Sunwoo’s reaction. He watches you intently, body pushing against the creaking plastic table in an attempt to hear you better. With an almost mischievous glint in your eyes and a satisfied quirk, you continue: “Let’s take back what we stole for them.”

There’s a long moment where Sunwoo just stares at you, deciphering what to make of the proposition. You appear genuine, Sunwoo decides leaning away from the table until his back hits the chair, but Sunwoo isn’t exactly sure how much he trusts his own judgement considering the last time he decided you were sincere you had been lying to him left and right.

Sunwoo lifts his hand to the vendor of the food stall you’re sitting by. The previous glint in your eyes is gone, overshadowed by a darker shade of doubt. “What are you doing?” you finally ask, voice lower and less excited than it had been a second ago.

With a tired sigh, he replies, “I’m gonna need more food while you explain your plan.”

Sunwoo has to swallow back the smile that nearly emerges at how happy you get.

--

It’s a simple enough idea. Clear our names, you had explained, wipe ourselves entirely from both agencies. And it’ll work too, Sunwoo realizes when you begin the second explanation on the logistics of the whole operation. The only downside to your plan is you. Because the last person Sunwoo wants to start a new mission with is the same person who broke his heart three months ago. And it’s bothersome, almost, how calm you are and how collected you appear, especially compared to how scattered Sunwoo feels just to be around you again.

“What do you think?” You ask once you’ve explained your plan completely, tapping anxiously on the table.

“I think,” Sunwoo starts, inhaling deeply, “you’ve thought about this way too much.”

“Well, yeah,” you scoff, gulping down some more coke, “three months is kind of a long time.”

And yeah, he thinks, it is. But despite the time that’s passed since you’ve last seen each other and despite the way Sunwoo thought he was over you, his stomach still flips each time you look his way. He just prays that the past three months have at least somewhat watered down how he used to feel about you.

“How do I know you won’t ditch me after we clear you?” Sunwoo asks, pushing away the thoughts of lingering heartache to a corner of his mind.

“We’ll do you first.” You state simply. “Steal your file off Creker and get the bounty off your head first. Then we’ll do me.”

“And then how do you know that I won’t ditch you?”

You falter at that, frowning for the smallest of seconds, then say, “I don’t.”

Sunwoo nods, pretending to contemplate your offer. But in all transparency, Sunwoo knew he’d agree to your plan despite the bile that turns up at your name because with the way he’s been hiding in a crappy motel and eating instant ramen every night, it’s kind of hard to refuse any proposition that gives him the slightest chance at an out from Creker. 

“Okay,” he finally utters, wiping the crumbs of his second skewer off his hands, “let’s do it.” You meet his eyes expectantly. Nodding, he says,

“Let’s team up.”

//

You and Sunwoo clash more than anything else on the first day of prepping for the mission, crammed in a corner of Sunwoo’s dingy motel with two half finished cans of red bull sitting forgotten on the table, fighting about even the smallest details.

“I know the building,” Sunwoo argues, pointing to the floor plan you have pulled up on your laptop, “and this is the entrance we should use.”

“But using this entrance,” you refute, dragging your finger across the screen to show him exactly what you mean, “will give us better access to security and admin. And trust me, I know the building better than you do.”

“How do you—” Sunwoo stills. Something seems to register in your eyes at that moment as well, a small recognition of the tiny slip up, a barely audible acknowledgement that comes in the form of a cough. And all at once, Sunwoo’s reminded of the time he spent spilling his heart to you in Vienna under more covers than he was aware of. Sunwoo’s harshly thrown against the realization that you must’ve been watching him, surveying him long before you ever found him in that Austrian pub.

“See, I knew this wouldn’t work.” He grumbles, shaking his head. “You know too much about me. No, actually, you know everything about me. And I--” there’s a dip in his tone, “I know nothing about you.”

“Fine then, ask.”

“What?”

“Whatever it is you think will even the playing field between us. Whatever it is you want to know about me,” you shut the laptop and turn your body to face him completely, an action that exudes largely frustration but more faintly, guilt, “just ask.”

--

Sunwoo learns more about you than he had intended to. He learns about the origin of the scar that runs along your spine. A fucked up operation in Shanghai, you tell him, writing over the lie you told him three months ago about it being from your childhood. He learns about your old partner Younghoon and about the shadow falling over your forehead at the sound of his name. He’s told about how you got involved with Pegasus to begin with, a similar story to Sunwoo’s beginning with Creker: an unlucky concoction of desperation and coincidence. You tell him, with reluctance, your most embarrassing story, followed by a long list of firsts and favorites. So by the time night falls, with two empty red bulls at the foot of the bed and the building’s floor plan now forgotten behind the black screen of your laptop, Sunwoo learns enough to rebuild a fraction of the trust he lost.

//

Everything goes smoother after that. You and Sunwoo seem to fall into a rhythm, meeting at a café in the morning and at the motel in the afternoon, planning out the missions with far less difficulty than before. A rather quick adjustment, from both of your ends, and an even faster allocation of responsibilities. He finds himself looking forward to sitting in front of your open laptop each day and conjuring new ways to distract you every hour. 

And it’s after meeting up with you one night, not as partners but—perhaps more cruelly—as friends, that a dangerously familiar warmth blooms in his chest and refuses to wilt away when he sees you again the next day. Sunwoo knows that he should be doing something, anything to blow out the flame, but instead he feeds the fire and prays that this time it spreads from his heart to yours.

//

“Where’d you get all of this?” Sunwoo questions one day when you show up at the motel with a suitcase full of equipment. An assortment of laptops, earpieces, weapons, and randomly picked gadgets.

“Took it from Pegasus before I left,” you smirk, pulling out an earpiece and holding it out in front of his ear. “You’re usually on the field, right? The one in action?” He nods. “Good, you can be the agent for this mission then,” you mumble, setting down the earpiece and holding up another. “I’m usually the person behind the computer anyways. Was even a handler for a mission in Seoul once.” You place the earpiece in his palm and begin to pull out the other pieces of equipment from the suitcase.

“What about Vienna?” Sunwoo says, inspecting a certain gadget from the case. “You were on the field then.” And it’s a question that would’ve been asked with malice if it had come up a couple weeks ago, but right now, there’s nothing but curiosity behind Sunwoo’s words.

“Oh,” you hesitate, a small smile appearing briefly, “I guess I do both.”

Sunwoo doesn’t ponder over your answer for long.

It’s later that day, right as you’re about to leave, that you frown at Sunwoo’s head, matter-of-factly saying, “you should change your hair before the mission.” Then, with a laugh bubbling behind your teeth, you add, “again.”

(Sunwoo changed his appearance a lot. One of the tactics that had stuck from his training days. Never really in big ways, but small changes here and there every couple of months. Sometimes it was a new piercing that he’d wear for a year and let close up in the next, and other times the change came in the form of a temporary tattoo imprinted on his neck whilst in Vancouver with Kevin. When Sunwoo met you in Vienna his hair was a light brown that he had gotten done in Tokyo and hadn’t bothered to touch up since. So when the time had come to change something again, he headed to the hair salon.

“When’d you do this?” you asked him that night, running a hand through the new red hair. 

“Just today.” He answered, hoping you wouldn’t ask for a reason. 

“I like it.” 

“More than the brown?”

“Way more.” You whispered, leaning in until he felt the breath of your words on his lips. 

And in the moment before you closed the distance, Sunwoo had made a silent vow to never change his hair again.)

Sunwoo gets his hair done the day after you suggest it, and when he returns to the motel from the salon, he finds you already there.

“Oh good, you’re back.” You mumble, arms full and an extra key card to his room that he had given you out of convenience a while back held between your teeth. “I just came to drop these off because I have to go to—" you stop, straightening yourself and eyes fixated on him. “You got your hair done.”

It’s an observation, a small, stupid thing really. A comment made in passing that should feel routine with as much time as you and Sunwoo spend together and one that should feel even more mundane considering you were the one to suggest it. But there’s something about the way you say the words that makes Sunwoo feel slightly breathless anyways. “Yeah,” he finally affirms, running a hand through his now black hair, “I did.”

You nod in acknowledgement, setting the things in your hands down, then turn to leave. 

“Wait,” he calls out. You do, pausing three paces away from the door and give a long look to the hand he’s placed on your arm to stop you before turning around to face him. And the next words seem to fall off the edge of Sunwoo’s mouth at that moment, tumbling back down his throat and landing heavily in the pit of his stomach. “Do you still…” he hesitates, attempting to smooth over the nervousness folding up in the corners of his mind. 

“What?” 

“Do you still like my hair?”

You consider it for a moment, bringing a hand up to tug at the new black fringe. And there’s something unmistakably domestic about the way you tilt your head in concentration, eyes fixed on Sunwoo’s hair as if there’s nothing more important for you to be doing in this moment. He watches you evaluate his hair closely. 

“Yeah,” you finally say, eyes meeting his and something like a double meaning swimming in them, “I still like it.”

//

The first mission goes smoothly thanks to you sitting back at the motel instructing Sunwoo which turns to take and what files to download. So with a flash drive containing all the information he needs to free himself from the agency stuffed in his pocket, he turns to leave, whispering into his earpiece, “is the exit path clear?”

“Shit.”

He stops walking. “What?”

“It’s blocked. I think I can get you out another way, but you’re not gonna like it.”

“Just tell me.”

“Okay, go one story below. Take two rights and then a left.” He does as you say, feet hitting the ground as quietly and as quickly as possible. The less time he spends in the building the better. “At the end of the hall, there’s a window.” You say once he’s near the place you directed him too. His stomach drops. “Jump from it.” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He breathes, studying the drop with grimace. “I really hate heights.”

“I know.” And there’s a misplaced softness when Sunwoo hears you mutter, “I remember.” You wait a beat. “Do you trust me?” 

“Do I trust you?” He echoes, dread and disbelief coating his words. “I don’t even—”

“Just answer the question, Sunwoo. Do you?”

“I—” he studies the drop again, thinks and overthinks the newfound steadiness in your voice. Quietly, he mumbles, “yeah.”

“Then jump.” You tell him how exactly to do it as well, where to find the rope you packed and which hook is best to use. He does as you say, preparing for a jump he hasn’t decided to take yet. And once everything is prepared, the only thing that passes between you and Sunwoo on the intercom is silence. “Hey,” you mutter after a long while, something like a joke audible in your voice, “you jump; I jump, jack.”

“Except you aren’t jumping.”

“Technically, yes, that’s true but—”

“Okay, okay, okay. Shut up.” Sunwoo inhales deeply, closing his eyes and letting silence fill the intercom again. The silence, however, is interrupted the second he hears a group of voices travelling from somewhere down the hall. His eyes snap open.

“Sunwoo—”

“Fuck it.”

He jumps.

— 

“You’re bleeding.” Is the first thing Sunwoo hears when he walks through the motel room’s door, quickly followed by you rushing to him, tilting his head with a finger against his chin, and inspecting the cut above his eyebrow. 

“Yeah well your little jump stunt didn’t make for the smoothest of landings.” 

He means it as a joke. A bad one he realizes when you pull your hand away, eyes dropping from his face and guilt hanging over your head. “Sorry about that.” 

He shrugs. “It didn’t kill me.” 

“Come on,” you beckon, grabbing the first aid kit and heading to the bathroom, “I’ll help you bandage them.” 

Sunwoo sits on top of the closed toilet lid, folding up his pant leg to examine the gash running across his shin. The cut, he realizes, isn’t nearly as bad as it feels, but you make a small face at the sight of it anyways. It doesn’t take you very long to clean the cut on his leg, quickly finishing it while kneeling on the cold bathroom tile and asking him questions about the mission.

“No stitches?” He wonders when you pat a bandage in place.

You shake your head. “You should be fine. Nothing more than a gloried scrape really.” You add teasingly while rearranging the objects in the first aid kit. And when you laugh at the look he gives you for the comment, Sunwoo does his best to ignore the fluttering that appears in his gut at the sound. 

You move on from the cut on his leg, placing the first aid kid on top of the counter and poking the bruise that’s forming above his knee before getting up yourself. He smacks your hand away.

“How’d you know about my fear of heights by the way?”

“You told me one night in Vienna.” You answer, tearing open an alcohol wipe packet. “Do you not remember?”

He shakes his head.

Frowning, you let out a small, “oh.”

Neither of you say anything after that. And Sunwoo’s so focused on the frown that’s yet to leave your face that he barely registers the way you lean towards him for better access, propping your knee on top of the toilet and between his legs for balance. Although he does notice the warmth that radiates off your body. And a minute after that, he notices how much longer it takes you to clean this, smaller cut than it took to clean the one on his leg.

“Sorry.” You quickly apologize when you press against the cut too harshly. Sunwoo waves you off. “I am sorry though.” You repeat, seriously, lips still turned down in a frown and brows knit together.

“It’s really fine.” He chuckles, amused by the amount of gravity in the apology. 

“No. For Vienna.” The amusement dies in the back of his throat. “I never apologized for…” you falter there, fingers paused against his forehead, “for that. But I am sorry.”

“It was your mission.” Sunwoo gulps. “You were being a good agent.”

“And a shitty person.” You say, no hint of a joke laced in the statement. “In fact, the mission was just to observe you. Make sure you didn’t find out anything too important about Pegasus. Meeting you was mostly on accident. And everything that followed,” you bite your lip, and Sunwoo can’t tell if you’re biting back a smile or a frown, “all those other parts just sort of came naturally.”

The flame in his chest from before bursts into a bonfire, filling his lungs with a hopeful smoke. “Naturally?” He echoes.

“Yeah,” you repeat, tongue darting out in concentration while you complete the last step of smoothing out the bandage. You don’t lean away when you finish. You don’t remove your knee from between his legs. Don’t pull away the hand you have holding back his hair or the one resting against the side of his face. Nothing but your eyes move, trailing down until they find his, visibly gulping, then wandering further below. “Naturally.”

And the word is like a spell, lifting his chin and drawing him towards you until his lips are brushing against yours. It’s barely a kiss, a small hesitant press of lips that lasts no longer than a second, but one that has Sunwoo’s heart pounding wildly in a way it never did three months ago. He pauses there, lips unmoving and hovering just below yours, waiting for you.

You don’t move. Neither leaning in nor away. His gaze flickers up to your eyes, finds them half open, focused on the upper curve of his lip. He captures your lips between his again, a second attempt that is met with response when you lean into it, inhaling him in for a tiny blissful moment and exhaling him out in the next, pushing him back by the shoulders and stepping away yourself.

“I should…”

“Fuck.”

“I should go.”

And you’re gone before he can say anything else. 

// 

The kiss is ignored by both of you while prepping for the second half of the mission. A silent agreement to act like it never even happened and another one to not discuss whatever misplaced feelings led to it. It’s almost sickening how easily you and Sunwoo fall back into being just partners. Especially considering the fact that Sunwoo’s feelings haven’t faded, the bonfire in his chest still burning with the same brightness. So Sunwoo spends his days with you, attempting to put out the fire between his lungs, and he spends his nights alone, replaying the kiss you both pretend to ignore.

“Tomorrow’s the big day.” You mutter on the last night, a trail of anxiousness slipping off your tongue. “And then we’ll be done.” 

Sunwoo only nods, watching how your tongue pokes the inside of your cheek and mulling over whether you mean done with the mission or done with him.

--

The Pegasus mission doesn’t go nearly as smoothly as the Creker one, complications toppling around Sunwoo from the moment he begins. They start small first: a locked door resulting in a change of entry and a janitor straggling in a hallway that should have been clear. He makes it to his first destination eventually, quickly shuffling through the room of file cabinets until he finds your physical files, slipping them into his bag, and heading to the next room with you whispering directions into his ear. The next room is empty when Sunwoo arrives. He works quick, bypassing the security system and fingers flying across to find your information.

“Faster.” He hears you mutter over the earpiece. A hasty reminder of what you had told him earlier that week: the room never stays empty for long.

“Got it.” He exhales, finally pinpointing your files and beginning the process of downloading and deleting them.

“Sunwoo,” he hears an elevator ding from somewhere outside the room at the same time he hears you, “someone’s coming.”

He doesn’t move. Keeping one eye on the closed door and the other on the still-pending status of your files. “I’m almost done.”

“If you leave now, they won’t see you.” Voices fill the hall. “But you have to leave now.”

“I’m not done yet.”

The voices move closer, louder. “It’s not worth it. Please, just go!”

He hears them behind the door. “It’s you.”

There’s a jingle of keys. “How will you—”

“Hey,” the door unlocks with a click, “you jump; I jump, right?”

“Sunwoo—”

He pulls the earpiece out at the exact moment that the door swings open.

-- 

The rooftop is obscenely pretty at this hour, with the golden sun partly hidden by a high-rise building but still growing in the distance, scattering its light across the sky, and casting a golden shadow on everything it touches. It’s a gorgeous sight, and yet, there’s no one but Sunwoo here to appreciate it.

“You’re okay.”

He whips around only to find you standing on the rooftop with him, body trembling and hands clasped over your mouth. Behind you, the door to the roof is still falling closed. Your eyes are red, dark circles hanging under them that make it look as if you haven’t slept days. Silently, Sunwoo wonders how he’s just now noticing your sudden restlessness, and a small part of him hopes—no prays that whatever’s chasing your sleep away is the same thing chasing his.

“I got it.” He says, pulling out the flash drive he stayed to retrieve. Your eyes never flicker off his. “How’d you find me?”

“How’d you get out?”

Neither of you answer. Instead, you begin to walk towards him, asking if he’s hurt with a voice that’s too soft and too concerned for Sunwoo to make out an answer. You ask it again.

“No, I’m not hurt.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

You stop in front of him. Close enough for Sunwoo to see the tears welled up in your eyes. “You’re okay.” You repeat, voice wavering with a sudden gust of wind.

“I am, but I—” he hesitates; you take a step towards him, “I miss you.” He succumbs to the fire in his chest; lets it fill his lungs, burn up his throat, and throw the sentence, “I just miss you so much,” out of his mouth without bothering to hide the crack in it.

He meets your eyes and finds a starling amount of clarity in them. “I missed you too.”

“Really?”

You laugh at that, nodding your head and stepping closer to him again. “I missed you before we ever met.”

He stares at you. For too long probably. Watches a smile grace your features, spreading like a fire. The flame feels familiar. And for the first time since seeing you after Vienna, Sunwoo doesn’t have to hold back the urge to ask, “Can I kiss you now?”

“Please.”

He does. Lips crashing into yours, and you meeting the motion halfway, leaning into his lips, his body, him. A fervent want present in the way you pull at his neck and grab onto the collar of his shirt that would’ve probably been surprising if it wasn’t matched completely by him. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your body flush against his and deepening the kiss for a second more.

You both pull away, just barely, faces still close and bodies pressed against each other.

“Hey,” you begin, breath hot against his lips and a knowing smirk appearing briefly, “was I worth the wait?”

And suddenly Sunwoo’s in Vienna again, sitting on a bench, and asking you the same question.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, smiling, “you were.”

//

a/n: i apologize this request took me forever to get around too. and if the actual spy aspects to this fic make zero sense then my bad i was spit balling here. brownie points if u can find the scene inspired by queens gambit and the other scene inspired by the office lmao

#the boyz scenarios #sunwoo scenarios #sunwoo x reader #the boyz x reader #the boyz imagines #sunwoo imagines #sunwoo fanfic #the boyz fanfic #the boyz fluff #sunwoo fluff #sunwoo angst #the boyz angst #tbz scenarios #the boyz drabbles #sunwoo drabbles #kim sunwoo #the boyz #mine #you jump; i jump #lowqualityseventeen #was gonna make a banner or something for this but then got lazy and thot its not that deep :] #also i have zero graphic design skills

[carmen-riddle]

Story as requested

SO This is a story about the time my mom almost took me out of school because a guy from my class made eye contact with her.

This is a long story so bear with me. Idk if i have already told this or not. Anyways we will need to meet come characters first and some context-

U - one of my friends from my class and the bitch who started the whole thing and didnt get wrapped in the drama what so ever N- Hate her also it genuinely surprises me that the people who have the most shit to say about me have a cgpa below 2.0 like bestie wtf up with this ? (kylies friend at the time) R - my idiot fucking then best friend from my neighbourhood A- a good guy friend. We went to the same French tuition. T- N's younger brother .... S- my senior Q- the guy in question who had no fucking relation with the whole drama

LETS START WITH THE STORY -

So basically me and U got selected to participate in this English play competition

S was also in the same play and me and him started to became friends, teasing, talking to each other

So in lunch period ( all the girls sit in a huge circle so that no ones left out or feel left out of the group because groupism is really exclusionary in my school)... SO basically U is like zoe he soo likes you. S soo likes you..

I was like nah. We just friends

Ok so basically N had the biggest crush on S so when she over heard this she came to me and said, " Stay. Away. From. Him"

Now i didnt want any drama so i was like sure girl i gottcha back. But i didnot know this was the start of a drama movie.

SO basically i was walking cum gossiping with my best friend and telling her what all happened in the school today and i saw N and her friends ( we live nearby ) and she goes " you have no clue how desperate she is for attention " Now i believe in being kind and all but aint no body shitting on me. Even god damned Jesus would hold my purse while I smack the shit out of her. SO anyways.. I went ahead and we had a heated discussion where i roasted her ass (shouldnt have in retrospect)

My bestie was like, "girl what that all about ?" Then I dramatically started to explain what was happened at school that day. And she was like how does he look ? I told her, "ngl he cute"

SO basically T over heard this and said, "bro he is our senior have some shame !" and then my friend tried to explain that he misunderstood but idk how much she could (lying hoe.)

Now I go to school to school and he (S) was waiting for me on the stair case and asked me, " did you tell everyone I am your boyfriend ?" And I was just like BOY which stupid ass dog bit you ? Why would I say that ?

And apparently they spread this rumour that i was a desperate and i said that i was dating S ..

In that day alone loads of guys asked me if I was actually dating him .. And all i could say was :/

Now in last period Q asked me if i was in a relationship. Now my friend A over heard this and thought that Q was dating me or asking me out or what ever that he understood..

Bottom line A knew there were rumours that I was dating some guy and he thought I was dating Q

Finals were really near ( like 3-4 days near) so I told my mom that I'll sit at home and study as nothing is happening in my school and also because I was tired of the rumours

SO she was like ok cool

I didnt go to my french tution that weekend as my french exam was the last exam and as I had maths next week.

So A thought my mom got to know about my relationship thats why she took me out of everything everyone knows how strict my family is

It had been a while and also i needed to clear a few doubts so i decided to go to school.

Now I come back from school and my moms like " is there something you want to tell me ?" lemme do it in a dialogue way -

Mom : Is there something you want to tell me ?

Me : nope . why ?

* hard slap *

Me : 👁👄👁

Apparently this idiot (A) had told maam that the reason i didnt attend class was because my mom took me out of everything after finding about my relationship

Even my teacher was concerned so she called home and said , "Let it be, she is young , she will make mistakes" and my mom had no clue wtf this was abt and so she got to know that i am dating Q and and thought thats why i didnt wanna go to school or tuitions (bestie i just needed to desperately revise maths and study other as i had left it for later and get out of the rumours )

Now I was although not allowed to watch tv or use mobile or laptop hell wasnt even talked to. I was allowed to give the exam.

Now I was a bit late for dispersal as I was discussing my answers with my teacher and she asked me why i didnt come to school for a few days..

My mom possibly made eye contact with Q during dispersal and She was convinced that i had broken up with Q and hence he was giving my mother the stink eye

WTF CANT PEOPLE STOP ASSUMING

This drama of me and S and Q (in my mothers, A and tuition teachers mind) did not die out for a yr.

Tagging : @ginasholtsoundboard@desi-dark-academia@drenched-in-ichor

#story time #mine #crazy #school