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lassieposting · 6 months

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So in the wake of my post on Astarion and cptsd, have another concept I've been thinking about lately:

Tav/Durge (or an origin character, but I'm gonna use Tav because there are so many potential ships) using magic on him - with his permission, of course, they're not a complete monster - to help him cope with the symptoms.

I feel like there's a lot of potential here? But I haven't really seen anyone using it in fics, so. Here are some ideas I've been turning over.

Spells Tav Can Use On Astarion:

Calm Emotions: magically subdue intense emotions.

So.

I have a fond headcanon that while Astarion is still in survival mode during the game - the worst symptoms of his cptsd are on lockdown and he's mostly able to keep it together well enough to be functional and clear-headed - there is an incident where Tav sees him have a panic attack.

Like. Maybe they're attempting to sneak around patrolling guards in enemy territory, or edging around hostile wildlife in the Underdark. They're alone, the party split into two pairs with different tasks, and some threat is headed their way. They don't want to raise any alarms, so Tav drags Astarion back into a narrow crevice in the rock, or a chest loaded onto a supply wagon, or something, to hide until the threat has passed by.

And. Astarion has never mentioned that he's claustrophobic. He doesn't show weakness unless he's forced to, and at this point, he hasn't told Tav about being sealed in a tomb for a whole year. So the first they know of it is when they're crushed up against him in a cramped hiding spot and they realise he's shaking. They try to calm him, but his eyes have gone unfocused and glassy and he's starting to hyperventilate, a wounded animal noise brewing in his chest.

And Tav has to make a split second decision, because he's going to get them noticed. So they try to comfort him and instinctively cast Calm Emotions - and it works. It cuts the panic attack off, and once the threat is audibly moving away from them, they're able to emerge and carry on undetected.

He's angry, on and off for a while, that Tav used magic on him without his consent, even once he understands what they did and why. But the thing is, it did work. It helped him get his fear under control. So down the line, as they get closer, and he begins to really trust Tav, he agrees to them using that one on him when he really needs it, when he's crippled with the panic of 200 years' worth of obediently withstood torture sessions, when he feels like dying is the only way to escape the fear. They're both aware though that Calm Emotions is a deferral, not a cure - it won't help him work through the panic attacks, and it won't stop him having them.

Heroism: instill the caster or an ally with courage

I like to think Tav uses this one on him a few times as the group approaches the city, when he's fretting about being back within Cazador's reach. They're not ✨sleeping together✨, but they are sleeping together - he has an open invitation to share Tav's tent at night, just to cuddle and rest a little easier with someone he trusts close by to watch over him. They know he's scared, and they know he doubts the group's ability to protect him if Cazador tries to take him back. Heroism here is essentially a stand-in for anti-anxiety medication - it stops him ruminating on what-if scenarios the group is determined not to ever let happen.

Enthrall: capture the attention of a creature, making it look at you

Another one that could be useful in a panic attack situation, though it's far too similar to Cazador's control to ever use on him spontaneously - it would need to be something suggested, discussed and agreed upon while he was clearheaded, to see if it was useful for him. Making him focus on Tav stops him focusing on whatever is causing him to nosedive. It's the, "Astarion, hey, look at me, just focus on me, breathe with me," spiel taken to a level that actually yanks him out of his fear spiral when just their voice won't do it.

Dancing Lights: creates magical orbs of light that brighten an area

Sometimes, Astarion struggles to switch off and unwind at bedtime. The "trying to get to sleep" gap can be a fucking horror show when you have a condition like cptsd - everything goes quiet in preparation for sleep, so it's the perfect time for all your intrusive thoughts and ruminations and spiralling to dogpile you, the way it struggles to do when you're compulsively keeping busy in the daytime.

A Tav who can create Dancing Lights is essentially giving him Candy Crush. A mindless, no-complex-thought-required distraction that shuts up all those bad thoughts long enough for his eyes to start closing.

Light: makes an object shed light in a small area

He's not afraid of the dark. The dark is a vampire's natural habitat, after all. But he is, in the early days, sometimes afraid of what might be in the dark - he has nightmares of Cazador lurking around the outskirts of the camp, waiting to snatch him up. Shifting shadows against tent fabric can warp and twist into horrors to a groggy, fresh-from-a-nightmare mind. He would rather die again than ever ask Tav to magic him a nightlight. But if an object bespelled to cast a soft, grounding glow inside his tent happened to be left beside his bedroll, well, finders keepers and all that. Of course he uses the damn thing, darling, if he leaves it off for one night Gale will probably eat it.

Detect Thoughts: telepathically link to unprotected minds and hear the thoughts of targeted creatures while talking to them.

I like to think this mostly happens when he's struggling to express something and getting frustrated.

Sometimes, it's a vocabulary issue. Faerûn is a medieval-esque setting - Astarion doesn't have terms like "trigger" or "dissociation" or "flashback" to express what's going on in his head. He has to cobble together not-quite-right-but-close-enough explanations out of the words he does have, and that shit is hard.

Other times, it's because he's trying to recount a memory that gets stuck in his throat or between his teeth. Because he can't bear to voice the humiliation, or the dehumanization, or the violence that goes with it. Putting it to words makes it real in a way that he can't deal with anymore. He wants Tav to know what's distressing him, but he just...can't say it. He can't.

And once upon a time, he would've just shown them through the tadpole, but that's no longer an option, so Detect Thoughts it is. Tav can either hear him, or he can visualise the memory and show it to them - or flashes of it, anyway. And it can be a quiet understanding between them - no stumbling over his words, no tears, no shaking voice.

Hold Person: hold a target humanoid in place.

Paralyzing Ray: paralyzes the target.

Otiluke's Resilient Sphere: enclose a target in a sphere of shimmering force...blocking all incoming and outgoing damage

These wouldn't really come into play until months or even years postgame, once Astarion is safe and settled and finally processing all the horrors he's been through - if he has an era where the flashbacks are so vivid, he might not recognise Tav, or might even mistake them for Cazador or Godey. The era where, sometimes, through no fault of his own, he might be a danger to himself and others, Tav included. What's a fantasy protagonist to do with him, when he's beyond reason? Pop him in the rage cage - where he can't hurt himself or anyone else - until he comes back to himself.

Spells Tav Has Tried And Failed To Use On Astarion:

Cure Wounds: heal wounds through touch

Probably the first spell they ever try on him, and one he could've sorely benefited from. The extra impetus to start associating touch with pain relief instead of pain itself would've done him a lot of good. But, according to the wiki, undead are immune to virtually all healing spells, which is a deeply angsty bummer.

Sleep: make a conscious creature fall into a deep slumber

As a high elf, he's immune to sleep magic, but he gets the elven equivalent of night terrors, and days on end of broken rest will leave anyone drained and exhausted. Tav has absolutely offered to try and put him to "proper" sleep, a deep sleep, so he won't dream. I've never actually played dnd, so I don't know how much leeway there is here for creative interpretation of immunity, there are certainly ways you could be creative with it - maybe his fey ancestry protects him from being put to sleep specifically in an attack context, or from being put to sleep unexpectedly, or by unfamiliar and potentially hostile magic. Maybe, if he knows it's happening and his innate magic recognises the magic of the caster, he's able to lean into it. Like the difference between being shot from behind with a tranquilizer gun and popping an ambien before bedtime.

Also! These could even be scrolls! It amuses me to think of Tav popping over to the pharmacist Gale's tower in Waterdeep to get Astarion's monthly anxiety prescription scrolls of Calm Emotions

#bg3 #bg3 headcanons #astarion x tav #astarion x durge #actually could also be relevant for #halstarion #wyllstarion #and #bloodweave #depending on what spells you give them #oh and #astarion x shadowheart #astarion ancunin

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forest-hashira · 3 months

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Lucky Shot

I'M BACK AGAIN i have just been on a roll with writing lately but you know what? i'm not complaining lol. anyways, this is my second entry to @kentopedia's "Love Through the Ages" collab! you can find my first entry here, but be sure to keep an eye on the masterlist for the other entries!!! this is the first time i've written solo suguru/reader so. be nice to me pls. also plese check out this art by @/diosaurr! i had already started writing this fic when they posted it, but three separate people tagged me in it knowing i was writing the fic so i want everyone else to see it, too!

read on ao3 here | wc: ~2.7k | cw: fem! reader (i know who am i???), outlaw!suguru, saloon girl!reader, gun violence, mentions of blood/injury, mentions of death. if those things will upset you i suggest you give this one a pass!

Maybe you should have listened to your father after all.

He’d told you countless times that traveling west, especially without a family or close group to help you out and keep your best interests at heart, would be difficult at best and dangerous at worst. Especially for a young unmarried woman such as yourself.

But you had always been headstrong and stubborn, and your father had always been a worrier, so you assumed he was exaggerating to discourage you, his eldest daughter, from following your dream and going out west. You secretly saved up money for months, and at the first given opportunity to leave your family and head west, you’d taken it, leaving only a goodbye note for your parents and younger siblings when you slipped from the house in the early hours of the morning.

Turns out, your father wasn’t exaggerating. Joining a party as a solo traveler had proven even more difficult and dangerous than you could have anticipated. You managed to make it out west, just like you wanted, but you had no money to your name, only the clothes on your back and two other outfits in a bag as you walked through the town, wandering from business to business, asking for work; you’d nearly wept with relief when the saloon owner said you looked like you could have some potential as a saloon girl, after you cleaned up.

He’d provided you a boarding room above the saloon and a new outfit – the ones you had weren’t up to his standards – up front, and while you appreciated it, you also knew he’d be taking that out of your pay until he decided those things were covered, which you could only guess would be never.

Despite the strings that came attached to your new job, things weren’t all bad. You got to know people in the town pretty quickly – the ones that frequented the saloon, anyways – and you were always in the loop about local “news”, most of which was just gossip.

One character of particular interest in the local gossip was a man named Geto Suguru. When you’d asked what was so interesting about him, you’d gotten some questioning looks, until you’d said you had only just recently moved out west. After you were shown his wanted poster, though, you began to understand.

He was one of the most – if not the most – attractive man you’d ever seen. Dark hair that fell past his shoulders; thin, almost cat-like eyes; and even in the poster, there was a sly look on his face.

Not only that, but he was wanted for robbing stagecoaches, stealing money and jewelry from rich people who gave into his – apparently – intimidating presence. He was also known for spending that money generously in towns all over the west supporting local businesses; plenty of women from across the state also bragged about the jewelry he would gift them, simply because he thought it looked good on them.

After spending weeks hearing stories – that you were certain had to be at least a little exaggerated – about this pretty outlaw and staring at his wanted poster, you resigned yourself to the fact that you would never see him with your own eyes.

So you couldn’t have been more surprised when you watched the man himself walk into your saloon without any sort of fanfare or dramatics and sit at the bar.

You stared at him, eyes wide, until he gave you a small smile.

“I’ve heard you’ll catch flies if you leave your mouth open too long,” he said, smooth voice lilting with amusement.

Realizing he meant you, you quickly snapped your mouth shut, your whole face burning with embarrassment. “You try meeting a living legend when you’ve only lived in the area for a couple months, see how you react,” you snapped back. When you realized what you’d said, you opened your mouth to apologize, but stopped when you saw the way his eyes sparkled with interest, one perfect brow arched in your direction.

“Feisty, aren’t we?” he chuckled. “I think I like you already, new girl.”

“What do you want to drink?” You turned away from him to grab a glass, hoping he didn’t pick up on how flustered you were over the nickname.

“Surprise me.”

You straightened at that, and now it was your turn to arch a brow as you looked him over. His expression never wavered, his head tilted slightly as he waited to see what you decided to serve him.

With a quiet huff, you turned your back to him, looking over your selection of liquors. Part of you wanted to serve him the cheapest, nastiest drink you carried, just to see if he would actually drink it or demand another drink, but ultimately you decided against it. Instead, you reached for the top shelf, grabbing the unopened bottle of some fancy imported scotch your boss had just gotten in a couple days before.

“Opening a bottle just for me?” Geto asked, still with that playful tone. “Well now I feel special.”

“Don’t make me change my mind,” you threatened, turning as if to put the bottle back in its place.

He held up his hands, as if in surrender, and you set the bottle down on the bar to grab a glass, though you took a brief moment to admire how strong even just his hands looked.

Setting the glass in front of him, you broke the seal on the bottle, then intentionally poured him about three times as much of the amber liquid as you were supposed to. Your boss could yell at you about it later.

Geto lifted the glass, tipping it towards you slightly in thanks, before taking a sip.

Just as you were about to speak to the outlaw in front of you again, the saloon doors swung open in your peripheral vision, and you looked up to see the sheriff walking towards the bar.

“Afternoon, sheriff,” you greeted him, glancing briefly at Geto to see what his reaction was, and you were only a little surprised that he had no reaction at all. “Your usual?”

The sheriff tipped his hat to you, sitting down at the opposite end of the bar from the bandit. “Please and thank you.”

With a nod, you placed the bottle of scotch on the counter behind the bar, then grabbed another glass and the brand of whiskey the sheriff always drank. You walked down the length of the bar, setting the glass in front of him and pouring his drink – the expected amount of liquor for him, unlike the bandit down the bar – before you walked away to put the bottle back.

You felt hyper-aware of the two customers at the bar, worried that any second now the sheriff would recognize the outlaw and all hell would break loose, especially when the other patrons at the tables in the building were always itching for some sort of fight, just because they thought it was entertaining.

In the end, though, it wasn’t the sheriff that recognized Geto, it was another customer that walked up to the bar to get another drink.

“You look familiar,” the man drawled, narrowing his eyes as he analyzed Geto’s face as best as his intoxicated mind could manage.

“I get that a lot,” the outlaw answered evenly, not sparing the man a second glance.

“No, I’ve definitely seen you somewhere before…” he trailed off, scowling, his gaze wandering until it landed on the handful of wanted posters hung on the wall beside the bar. His eyes lit up with recognition, and you swore you felt your heart drop to your stomach.

“You’re that stagecoach robber!” the man exclaimed, turning back to Geto; out of the corner of your eye you saw the sheriff turn to face the commotion.

Shit, this is bad, you thought, placing the man’s beer on the bar in front of him, though he was far beyond caring about the drink anymore.

“I’m pretty sure you have no proof of that.”

“That’s your face on the poster,” the man insisted, then turned his attention to you. “Don’t you think?”

“It looks like it could be a lot of people,” you replied lamely, grimacing at how obvious of a lie it was.

The man scowled at you. “Shoulda known better than t’ask a whore,” he spat, slurring his words a bit. “Whores always lie.”

Almost before he finished speaking, Geto grabbed the man’s collar and slammed his face down onto the bar. “Apologize to her,” he said, voice calm but eyes sharp with anger.

You blinked in surprise at what had just happened, and once you processed what had been said to you, you found that you were quite offended, and also quite pleased that this outlaw had taken up for you so quickly.

“Like hell!” the man protested, struggling against Geto’s hold. Even with his head forcibly pressed to the bar top, though, the man managed to pull his gun from his holster.

The scene before you seemed to slow impossibly for a moment: the sound of the gun cocking, seeing it aimed at Geto, the man’s finger going for the trigger. Then suddenly everything was back to normal speed, and the outlaw used his free hand to shove the gun to no longer be aimed at him just as the trigger was pulled.

You turned your head to see where it landed, and you watched in horror as a wound burst into existence in the sheriff’s shoulder, blood soaking into his shirt in an instant. He let out a shout of pain, clutching at the wound with his hand.

“You rat bastard!” the man shouted, working to cock his gun and aim it at Geto again, but the outlaw was quicker, pulling out his own gun, pressing it to the man’s ribs, and shooting him almost before you could process what he was doing.

There was a wet gasping sound from the man, and when Geto’s hold on his collar was finally released, he dropped unceremoniously to the floor, his gun sliding out of his hand. You couldn’t tell if he was dead yet or not, but he certainly wasn’t making any effort to get off the floor.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the sheriff draw his own gun and aim it, but it was in his non-dominant hand, so the bullet did not hit the robber as the sheriff intended; instead, it shattered the whiskey glass on the bar in front of you, and you dropped to the ground in fear.

With your hands over your head, you kept as low as you could. You couldn’t see what was happening anymore, but from what you could hear, at least half of the other patrons of the saloon had joined in the gunfight. Stray bullets hit the wall behind the bar, shattering multiple bottles of liquor, including the fancy bottle of scotch. My boss is going to be so pissed, you thought, an oddly practical thought to have in the midst of hiding and praying you weren’t accidentally shot.

Almost as if summoned by your thoughts, a bullet tore through the front of the bar, sticking in the cabinet about six inches from your head. With a shriek, you scrambled aside, towards the end of the bar; maybe if you were lucky, there would be time for you to slip out of the building without being caught in the crossfire.

You scanned the building as quickly as you could while keeping yourself hidden, not wanting to make yourself any more of a target than you already were. Bullets were still flying, leaving no chance for your escape, and you cursed under your breath; you were going to be stuck here until everyone ran out of ammo.

As you looked around, you noticed the first man that Geto had shot, a pool of blood slowly growing beneath his torso. His chest still rose and fell slightly, but his eyes were glassy; he was alive, but he was not long for this world. Suddenly, you remembered that he had dropped his gun when he had fallen, and you scanned the area around him for it, finding it a foot or so from his outstretched hand.

Deciding to run the risk of getting shot, you lunged for it, gripping it tightly in your hand once it was in your grasp. You’d never held a gun in your life, much less shot one, but having this one in your possession made you feel a little less cornered, a little less helpless.

Daring a glance upward, you saw that Geto had turned so that his back was to you and another corner of the saloon. Another patron had somehow managed to sneak around into the outlaw’s blind spot, and was clearly gearing up to shoot him in the back of the head. Knowing you couldn’t just sit there and watch it happen, you fumbled with the gun, your sweaty hands failing to pull back the hammer twice before you succeeded. With no clue how to accurately aim the weapon, you pointed it at his leg, squeezing your eyes shut as you pulled the trigger.

A shout of pain a moment later indicated that you had hit… someone, and you quickly opened your eyes again to make sure you hadn’t somehow hit Geto by accident. Thankfully, you hadn’t. The man you’d been aiming at had taken the shot to his knee – which actually had been what you were hoping to hit when you fired – bringing him down to the floor on one knee.

The shout was enough to alert the outlaw to the threat behind him, and he wasted no time spinning around and drilling him between the eyes. He slipped his guns – you saw now that he had two, rather than one like you had first thought – back into their holsters as the last man’s body dropped to the floor.

Once there was no longer another person blocking you from his view, Geto blinked in surprise, smiling as he stepped over the body and crouched down in front of you.

“You shot him?” he asked, his eyes glinting. The sight made you realize you’d been wrong before, when you’d thought his eyes were catlike in his wanted poster; in person they were foxlike, sharp and intelligent and clever.

“I-I, uh… yeah, I shot him.”

“Have you ever fired a gun before?”

“Not until just now.”

He glanced over his shoulder, taking in the bulletwound squarely in the side of the man’s knee. “You’re a good shot,” he observed, turning back to face you.

“Uh… thanks?”

He chuckled then, a low, smooth sound that made your stomach cartwheel. “You’re welcome.” A beat passed, then another, as he examined your face, though you were unsure what he was looking for.

“What?” you demanded, scowling at him despite the way your hands were still shaking.

“You should come with me.”

“Huh?”

“You should come with me,” Geto repeated easily. “I think you’d be a good addition to my crew. Besides, it really won’t be a good look for you if people come in and see you here with a gun after I get the hell out of here.” There was a slight smirk tugging at his lips, and despite the fact that you probably should have taken his words as a threat, you didn’t.

“What the hell,” you sighed. “It’s not like I have anyone keeping me here.”

“Wonderful,” he said, offering you a hand up off the floor, which you readily accepted. “Get what you need from your room and meet me outside. Be quick, my guess is that someone will come to investigate all the noise sooner rather than later.”

You nodded, brushing broken glass from your dress and your hair as you hurried towards the stairs, unable to hide the grin tugging at your own lips.

Maybe not listening to your father had been the right decision after all.

tagging: @kentopedia @kentohours @mitsuristoleme

#fallon's fics #divider by saradika #jjk x reader #jjk au #jjk fanfiction #jjk fanfic #jjk reader insert #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto jjk #jjk geto #suguru geto #geto suguru #suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #jjk suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru

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baby-yongbok · 4 months

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Manipulation

Han Jisung x Fem!Reader

-`♡´- Genre: Angst? Fluff? Both? Yeah... both. [Supernatural themes]

-`♡´- Summary: Jisung is all that you have and you're all that he wants.

-`♡´- Word Count: 6k

-`♡´- Warnings: Mentions of Blood (Like, a lot, though no one ever bleeds), Supernatural themes (Jisung and Reader have supernatural abilities), Violence (Not the physical type), Mentions of smoking weed (While driving/ do not do this please) and drinking (Not while driving), Speeding (Please don't so that, drive safely.), It gets a bit suggestive for a second, Interaction with law enforcement. [I think that's all.]

-`♡´- A/N: So, I'm a perfectionist and I get nervous when I can't write or post when I want to. I just started a new job and I'm applying to new colleges so ya girl is stressed out. To top it all off I got sick with the worst Hay Fever I've ever had today and I can't breathe (Love that for me). Soooo I had to reach into my vault and see what I haven't posted yet and I found this! This story is something that I wasn't sure that anyone would actually like 😭. I wanted to take a shot at writing something supernatural so here it is! I hope that you don't think that it sucks!+ the reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡. All feedback is appreciated! Thanks for reading! 💗

-`♡´- Note - Hemokinesis or Blood Manipulation is the ability to control and manipulate blood.

-`♡´- Masterlist -`♡´-

We should have never met but the fact that we did means that chaos is a naturally occurring thing in this world. Why do I say that? Let’s just say that Jisung and I are not the type of people that you want around. We’re the exact opposite. Degenerates. The evil in a good situation, and we whole heartedly don’t give a fuck about the damage we cause because the only thing that matters is the fact that we have each other. We’ll always have each other. Now, what could we possibly do that’s so bad? We manipulate, but not in the way that you’d expect.

“Hey, bubs?” Turning to face Jisung from my spot in front of my closet I feel my legs weaken beneath me as I stumble backwards a bit, using the door frame behind me to keep me up. The feeling is gone just as fast as it came and I take a second to ground myself before flashing a well deserved middle finger in Jisung’s direction.

“Fuck you with the iron manipulation.” He erupts into a fit of laughter as I abandon the task of trying to locate the bag that he lent me that I’m more than sure is buried in my closet. I was going to be nice and finally return it but after that stunt I think that I’ll keep it for a bit longer. “You think you’re so funny.” I sit on the edge of my bed, glaring at my best friend as his laughs intertwine with the music playing from my speakers. He always gets a kick out of using his abilities on me, he’s had his fun now I’ll have mine. I lift my hand towards Jisung and his laughter stops instantly.

“Yeah?” With a grin Jisung looks around aimlessly. “Gonna take my sight away? You’re playing dirty now.”

“Oh am I? Come get me, Ji.” Standing and backing away from my bed a bit, I keep my control over his sight as he reaches out in front of him, swatting his hand in an attempt to hit me. I mimic his earlier laughter as he struggles to navigate the newfound darkness.

“Ya know, the good thing about my abilities is that, if I want them to, they apply to everyone in the room no matter if I can see you or not.” He clenches his fist and my body stiffens. “So now, you’re locked in place and I definitely can find you.” Standing carefully from the bed he holds his hands out to keep from banging into anything. I try to speak but the blood in my body is literally frozen under Jisung’s control, don’t ask me how I’m even still alive with one of the most important units of my life force frozen inside of me, I don’t know the answer. Nobody does. That’s why Jisung’s ability is so dangerous, it doesn’t make any sense. The only thing that I do know is that if I try to retaliate even a little I’ll be on Jesus’s doorstep.

“Mmm, I can hear you breathing.” He chuckles a bit as he takes his final step before bumping right into me. Unclenching his fist and freeing my blood from his bind he catches me as my body gives out from the sudden blood rush. His sight restores itself as I release my bind on his vision.

“Got ya” Looking up at him with angry eyes we both can’t help but to erupt into laughter. This is what we do, we use our powers to mess with each other and get what we want. There’s only a select few of us who can do the things we do, why would we want to waste it by doing what society wants us to? I understand that we can be troublesome from time to time like when we crash parties… or cars, but this isn’t our fault I swear.

If people didn’t think that we were monsters maybe we’d behave differently. If people didn’t think that Jisung was a criminal then maybe he’d be more willing to calm down. But no, because he is the only living person with hemokinesis in this city that we know of, he’s labeled as high risk and everyone is constantly on his back the moment he steps outside. There’s never been anyone willing to get to know him until he met me during our freshmen year of university. People aren’t too fond of me either, I guess having the ability to manipulate bodily function is scary? Seems pretty mundane to me. We were outcasts so naturally we gravitated towards each other and before we knew it we were best friends, partners in crime that promised to protect each other from everyone's nasty comments and condescending stares. That was short lived though because we both dropped out of university a month after we met.

The sound of The Neighborhood playing blares through my room and cuts through our laughter as we start to dance a bit as I regain my composure and even out my breathing. He sways me as we dance hand in hand through my dim bedroom before pushing me back onto the mattress and plopping down next to me.

“You know what would make this Friday night a real win?” He asks and I look over at him. “Weed and a couple of beers.”

“Then what are we still doing here? You’re driving.” Sitting up and grabbing my sweater next to my bed I stand with Jisung as we put our shoes on and grab our stuff. We leave my bedroom and cut through the kitchen to avoid my brother and father in the living room. The worst thing about dropping out of college is having to still live with the little bit of family I have left. Rent costs an arm and a leg around here so right now my minimum wage job won’t cut it.

“Going out.” I call to them.

We hear quick footsteps approach as I reach for the doorknob, before I can turn it completely my father appears to the left of us catching our attention. “Where are you headed?” He only wants to know so that he can listen out for any gossip later. He knows that Jisung and I will be the talk of the town if we do anything too extreme. I’ve learned that what everyone else finds to be extreme is very different from what we think. Death is extreme to us, a fire or a house crumbling to the ground, those are extreme events. To everyone else, either of us breathing is enough to get the damn president to send out the troops.

“Not sure yet, gonna drive around a bit.” I notice my step-brother standing behind my dad glaring at Jisung from over his shoulder. “Oh, Ji didn’t you want to head by that store?”

I take Jisung’s hand in mine and interlock our fingers. Both my father and brother’s eyes lock in on the gesture and they both seem to try and stop themselves from having a visceral reaction, they failed. Jisung catches on quickly and joins in on my little game. “Yeah, I did, they have a huge parking lot and it’s always busy. I thought we could go and put on a show.”

Jisung nudges me suggestively and I genuinely chuckle in response. What makes me laugh harder is my brother, San’s clenched jaw and my dads disgusted yet furious gaze locked on Jisung. I can tell that he’s praying that it’s a joke, praying that he and I aren’t really dating or fucking or anything like that. I’m sure that he would rather be stoned to death than hear me say that Jisung and I are dating. He’s so lucky that we’re not.

“Relax, I’m joking.” Jisung says before opening the front door and placing his hand on the small of my back. “It’s always empty so it’ll be a private show.”

I can’t help the laughter that escapes me as Jisung leads me out of the front door, swiftly closing it behind us. My dad calls after me but we just hurry over to his car like we didn’t hear him. “I’ll take good care of her.” Jisung yells back towards the house before sliding into the front seat and slamming the door closed.

“You’re horrible.” I scoff as I buckle myself in.

“You started it.” He shrugs as he starts his horribly old pick up truck and pulls out of the driveway.

As funny as that was, I know that I’m going to hear an earful later, especially from San, he’d kill Jisung if he could and I know that for a fact. San despises anyone with abilities but he has a special hate for Jisung, he’s gone on endless rants over the years hoping that one day I’d suddenly agree that he’s right and that Jisung is a monster, that day hasn’t come and it never will.

“You grab the beer, I’ll stock up on snacks.” Jisung says as he shuts his car off and steps into the gas station parking lot.

“Roger that.” I coughed a bit before ashing the tip of the blunt we were sharing. I’d be lying if I said that the weed we’ve been smoking for the past fifteen minutes wasn’t starting to get to me. I have a much lower tolerance than Jisung but you would never be able to tell since I’ve mastered the art of hiding it. Doing recreational drugs isn’t exactly welcomed at my house with my father being a part of the city government. Oh, did I forget to mention that my dad is the city attorney? How else do you think that Jisung and I are still walking free after all of the shit we get into. My dad might hate the guy but he’s saved us both more times than I can count.

We waltz into the store and go our separate ways to complete our mission. I head right over to the fridge housing our desired golden liquid and grab two cases, one of my favorite brand and one of Jisung’s. As I’m walking up to the front of the store I hear what sounds like aggravated voices going back and forth, when did that start? It was silent a second ago. As I get closer I realize that it’s the store clerk ranting at a now very aggravated Jisung. Seriously? We just left the house.

“All the stores in the area and this kid had to pick mine. We don’t serve the likes of you here.” Jisung hasn’t said more than two words to the guy since I’ve been standing here. He just lets him go on and on since we’re very used to this type of thing happening. They complain, take our money, complain some more and then we leave.

“If you’d let me pay I can leave.” Jisung states matter of factly as he slaps a twenty on the counter. “ I’ll take those cases too.”

I walk up next to him and place the cases on the counter. “I got this” I slip in front of Jisung and smile at the man behind the counter. He’s pissing me off but he doesn’t have to know that. I often try to intervene before things get too out of hand, especially when Jisung is high. He already has a fairly short temper and for some reason it’s way worse when he’s under the influence.

“This is all, sir.” I say to the clerk as I pick up the twenty and extend my arm towards him.

“You’re with that degenerate? Aren’t you Choi’s daughter?” Closing my eyes tightly I sigh keeping my arm extended towards him. Of course he recognises me, just wonderful. One of the downsides to being the city attorney’s daughter is that almost everyone knows your face. This is why I stopped going to those Godforsaken press conferences. “You’re gonna get yourself killed hanging with him.”

“No, it’s you that’s going to get yourself killed.” Jisung protests as he lifts his hand in that insufferable man’s direction.

“Ji, come on” The clerk behind the counter instantly starts to moan in pain so I assume that he is using his Thermovariance, in other words, he’s boiling his fucking blood. Not enough to kill him, just enough to nearly get a steam rolling.

“Han, seriously, let's just go.” He’s a sucker for me calling him Han, I never understood why but I don’t care as long as it gets me what I want.

He sighs, dropping his hand and rolling his eyes at me. He’s pissed off and I understand that but I’m not trying to build a criminal record at this age, maybe in my late twenties but not now. “Leave the cash, let's go before I empty him.” Placing the money down on the counter I grab some of the snacks and one of the cases of beer and leave the rest for Jisung to grab.

“Have a good night” I called over to the disoriented clerk before getting back into the car.

“I’m way too high for this shit.” Jisung groans as he lights a new blunt before starting the car. He takes a long drag before passing it to me and driving off. We get some ways down the road in comfortable silence before he breaks the barrier.

“Why do you still hang out with me?” I can barely hear his question over the music but he looks at me expectantly anyway. I shrug as I stare forward and focus on the passing streetlights.

“To piss off my dad obviously.” Jisung scoffs, snatching the blunt from me and bringing it to his lips.

“I always knew you were using me.” He shakes his head as he blows a thick stream of smoke through his nose in a deep exhale. “Such a bitch.”

Neither of us can contain our laughter as we fan at the cloud of smoke surrounding us. He may have asked a serious question but he knew that I wouldn’t give him a serious answer. We save the serious stuff for when we’re so stoned that we can hear colors and taste sounds, this is only the beginning.

“If I can’t use you for sex then I might as well use you for something.”

“And why can’t you use me for sex?” He quips back with a light chuckle. My red eyes meet his for a split second before looking down at the blunt that he’s passing me.

“Well first of all that’s disgusting and second of all I’m not trying to have my brother actually kill you. The only reason he hasn’t is because he knows that we’re just playing around.” I lean forward to ash the blunt on the dashboard and open the window to air out the car, the smoke mixed with the obvious sexual tension in here is suffocating.

There wasn’t an ounce of truth to me saying that fucking Jisung would be disgusting and he knows that, we’ve talked about this more than once. He thinks I’m hot which I find hard to believe since I’m not really a reflection of the girls that he likes to date. I’m thick, a lot thicker than anyone he’s ever slept with but he’s gone on several rants about just how much he loves my body so I have no reason to doubt the validity of his statement. Jisung on the other hand is exactly my type, honey skin and soft brown hair with a beautifully toned body and an impossibly tiny waist. He’s unreal and he knows it. Despite his social status there are a slew of women who are dying to piss off their families by having him dick them down in the backseat of his car on any given tuesday. They use him as revenge bait and he knows it but he doesn’t care as long as he gets to nut.

We’ve talked about things that friends normally discuss like when we lost our virginity or how many times we’ve touched ourselves thinking about each other, it’s all water under the bridge for us… I think. The tension between us always builds a bit higher on nights like this, I mean who doesn’t get horny when they’re high right? But on a serious note I can’t fuck Jisung no matter how attracted to him I might be because that would complicate things and he’s the only uncomplicated thing in my life. My dad and step-brother haven’t been the same since we lost my mom five years ago and then a week after that my sister fell to the same fate. My only remaining blood sibling wants nothing to do with any of us and San and I have an intricate relationship to say the least. Sleeping with my best friend would be like setting myself up for failure.

“First of all, that’s rude and second of all your brother loves me.” The teasing tone in his voice fades into a chuckle that prompts an eye roll from me.

“Do you want to kill everyone that you love?” He shrugs and hums lightly before glancing over at me with his eyebrows raised and his lips pulled into a thin line. “Fuck you, Ji.”

He laughs, eyes focused on the nearly empty street in front of him as we stop at a light. “I hope you know that I'd kill him before he kills me.” Jisung glances over at me, his features are cold and serious. I stare back at him, mirroring his expression the best I can before cracking a small smile. “I know where we can hide the body.”

“Fucking maniac.” He scoffs with a smile and I laugh with him. He turns onto the highway and I turn the radio up to a deafening volume.

“Speed up, what’re ya scared?” I reach up and open the sunroof and Jisung watches me as he bops his head to the music. He lets down all of the windows as I stand on my seat and stick my upper half out of the sunroof just as he speeds up. He’s probably going ten over the limit right now but I don’t see any cops around and there are barely any cars on the road. He starts racing imaginary cars, weaving between lanes and effectively throwing me side to side as I try to enjoy the night breeze. This has been my thing since I was a kid, my mom would let me stand in the car as my dad sped down the highway, she’d let me climb onto the middle console and stick my arms up out of the sunroof while she held me in place. It was dangerous but it was so much fun, so freeing.

The vibration of the bass shook the car as it glided down the highway. My skirt blew in the wind rushing through the window as Jisung sped up bit by bit. Suddenly, I feel warmth on my thigh and all of my concentration goes to that spot. Jisung’s fingers trail up my leg and caress the skin peaking out in the diamonds of my fishnet stockings. Though he and I agree that we could never fuck each other the bond that we foster isn’t exactly conventional. We like to touch each other, he’ll rub my thigh or hold me from behind casually and I reciprocate his actions on a regular basis. This is our normal, the part that’s new to me is the slow trail that his hand is making towards my heat. I can hear him singing the song on the radio as he speeds up just a bit more, probably hitting 85 in the 60 by now. His hand continues up my thigh, moving to the side to trace the curve of my hip.

“Fuck.” I hear him exasperate as I process the sound of police sirens behind us. I crawl back down into my seat and put my seatbelt on. We turn down the music completely and pull over to the shoulder of the highway. I reach into the glove compartment and hand Jisung his registration and we both take our licenses and ability identification cards and place them on the dashboard along with our open hands. When you get pulled over with an abilities like ours, some officers like to try and get a reaction out of you. The last time we got pulled over I was the only thing stopping Jisung from literally killing the officer that decided to get handsy with him.

The officer approaches the window like a snail crossing the street and we both sigh. We exchange knowing looks and I start silently praying to myself, please don’t let this man be an asshole. Once he reaches the window he looks us both over before silently reaching into the car to grab Jisung’s identification and registration “How are you doing tonight, kids.” He checks the registration then his License and lastly his ability card. Jisung and I opt to stay quiet and offer no more than a meek nod in his direction.

“What are you two doing out tonight?” The officer asks as he shines his flashlight in Jisung’s face. His eyes trail up and down Ji’s frame, sizing him up.

“We’re going on a date.” Jisung shrugs as he makes eye contact with the officer.

“A date, huh? Where to?”

“Well, sir, I’m trying to surprise my lovely girlfriend here so if it’s alright with you, I'll keep that to myself.” He smiles up at the officer teasingly. The less he knows the better.

“I see.”

“May I ask why we were stopped? Are we getting a ticket?”

“You were going twenty over the speed limit, I’ll let you love birds off with a warning this time.” The officer pauses before looking over at me. “ I’ll warn you especially ma’am, be careful with this kid he’s dangerous.”

Satisfied with himself, the officer smiles down at the irritated man in the driver's seat. “You two be careful alright? There was some commotion over at the gas station some ways from here. You two wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would ya?” the officer drops all of the collected information into Ji’s lap as he looks between us.

“Not at all, if we hear anything we’ll be sure to call the station.” I didn’t plan on lying to a cop tonight but I guess this is fine. He looks between us clearly trying to spook us but we’re unfazed, it’s gonna take a lot more than staring behind some black out shades to intimidate us.

“Alright, well then I’ll let you kids go, have a good night.” He starts to walk away but doubles back suddenly, bending down to the window. “And try to sober up a bit before heading home.”

He stalks away again, quicker than when he came and Jisung and I do our best not to laugh. “That was fucking close, is it that obvious that we’re stoned?”

I can’t help the laugh that erupts from my throat as I stuff my ID back into my wallet. Jisung stares at me in confusion as he mimics my actions.

“Dude, we have two cases of beer in the backseat and we literally hot boxed your car a couple of minutes ago. We smell like a dispensary and your eyes are glowing red.” He hurriedly looks into the rearview mirror and examines his appearance.

“ Fuck, you’re right.” He fixes the mirror and sighs, we sit in silence for a bit before he speaks up. “Can you pass me the eyedrops out of the glove compartment?”

“Yeah, sure.” I start searching through the glove compartment but I stop when a waft of smoke floats in my direction. I side eye Jisung as he takes a small drag of the blunt and blows it out of the window.

“Want a hit?” He offers me the blunt with raised brows and I scoff before continuing my search.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Which one is your favorite?” I ask Jisung as I raise my beer bottle to my lips. After some more aimless driving we ended up going to our favorite spot in some woods just outside of town. It’s the perfect spot for us to be left alone with our antics. We turn the car radio up and rotate between laying in the pick up bed of his car and sitting on a huge rock that we’ve claimed as our own. Right now the blankets spread out in the back of his pick up are way too cozy and inviting to pass up on since it’s gotten a bit chilly out.

“Which what?”

“Which part of your ability?” He looks over at me with a slight blush creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks. He takes a swig of his beer and swiftly follows with a drag of our third shared blunt. I suggested that we stop a long time ago but Jisung insisted on pushing the limits tonight. I’m pretty fucked up from the cross fade of weed and alcohol but I’ll never admit that and I wont have to because the rosy blush on my caramel skin is a dead giveaway.

“Why do you want to know?” A shy laugh slips from his lips and I shrug, it’s just a question why is he getting shy?

“Curious, If you tell me yours I’ll tell you mine.”

“I like that I can control blood flow, it comes in handy.” With furrowed brows I take a swig of my drink while racking my brain trying to figure out how such a thing could be useful.

“How so?”

“Ahh.. that, my dear, is something I’d have to show you and I don’t think you want me to show you what I use that for.” He explains turning to me slightly. I mimic his movements turning my body to him and giving him my full attention.

“Show me.”

“Seriously, I don’t think - “

“What’re ya scared? I thought the Amazing- Bloodbending- Han Jisung wasn’t scared of anything?” My teasing seemed to get to him just a bit, so naturally I continued. “The Jisung that I’m always hearing about is some confident, daring and dangerous man who isn't scared of anything.”

“Fuck it.” He grabs my wrist and pulls me closer to him so that he can put his arm around me. He moves to put his beer down and free his other hand while I watch him in confusion.

“What are you-” He rolls his eyes, turning back to face me.

“You begged for it and now you want to back out? What’re ya scared?” He mocks my previous question and now it’s my turn to roll my eyes.

“Shut up, I’m just confused.”

“Trust me, bubs.” He looks me over slowly, too slowly. What's going on here? “Have I ever hurt you before? Okay, wait, don't answer that. Have I ever hurt you on purpose?” With a slight laugh I shake my head.

“Then relax and let me know if you get uncomfortable.” Without another word from either of us and some rock indie rock song blasting on the radio Jisung takes a deep breath and rubs his fingers together. He then lightly touches my knee and guides my legs apart. I furrow my brows again before he places the palm of his hand over my pelvic bone and I start to feel a euphoric rush in my stomach and legs. The feeling works its way up and down to fill every inch of my body. My core starts to pulse and drip as Jisung watches me closely with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“W- what are you -”

“I increased blood flow to your… you know. It’s like an instant turn on.” The air around me feels thick and I find myself fighting the urge to whine at the building pressure, am I about to… no way, I can’t cum from this. Impossible. “This is my favorite part of my ability.” A shy smile crosses his blushed lips and I can’t help but to stare at them. I always stare but never when he can catch me, I always wonder how they’d feel against my lips and skin. I’ve always wanted to taste them. Woah, what the fuck? No, I can’t think things like that, not about him.

“Okay, cool you c-can stop now.” His eyes stare down at me with a heated gaze, boring holes into my skin. His eyes switch focus between my eyes and my lips as he reluctantly moves his hand. I sigh in relief as I feel my body start to cool down but it’s not enough, I still feel the blistering heat of need crawling under my skin. Fuck, why did he have to show me that? It’s bad enough that we’re out here ten minutes to midnight while I’m in a skimpy skirt and he’s in a tight black tank top. He let me borrow his jacket when the wind picked up and now I want nothing more than to give it back to maybe extinguish these hot and disgusting thoughts running through my head.

“Remember our deal about not fucking?” I stare up at him, wide eyed and feeling vulnerable. “What does that apply to?”

“What do you… what do you mean?” Suddenly it feels like he never even moved his hand. My body feels hot all over again and I can feel myself clench around nothing desperately.

“I mean I just... Fuck.” He pauses as he takes a second to help me sit up and he picks up his drink and takes a long swig. That was definitely a courage shot, what the hell is he about to say? “I mean.. you have no idea how much I think about just… corrupting you. Manipulating your body, I’ve wanted to do that trick to you since I discovered it.”

A small chuckle escapes him as he looks over at me trying to gauge my reaction.

“Ji, you know why we agreed to that. Sex leads to complicated relationships or dating or whatever and I can’t do that with you. I can’t risk losing you too.”

“You wouldn’t.” Jisung's response is nearly a whisper, a desperate plea that came out weaker than he expected. “If we’re together then you’ve got me for life, bubs. You’re my best friend, nothing could ever change that. You’re the only person who doesn’t see me as a monster.”

Now it’s my turn to take a courage shot. I down the rest of my drink, avoiding eye contact like it could kill me. “I get it, you wanna fuck me, you don’t have to butter me up to get in my pants.”

“Hey hey hey, this is about way more than that. I don’t just want to fuck you, you’re so much more than a stupid notch in my belt. I want to be with you. I’ve wanted that for so long and you’ve wanted it too. I know you do. I see the way you look at me all the time, when I stay over at your place and we’re sleeping together and when I’m driving and you think that I don’t notice. You stare at me just like I stare at you, you have that same longing in your eyes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t lie to me.” He’s serious now, his tone is firm and it adds an extra beat to my already hammering heart. How does he know all of that? How long has it been since he’s noticed?

“Jisung, I don't have feelings for you. You’re hot, that's it.” I’m lying. I’m lying through my fucking teeth and he knows it. I’m a shit liar when I’m faded.

“Then let me kiss you.” He finishes his drink and puts his bottle to the side all while looking straight at me. “If I’m nothing more than your hot best friend, let me kiss you. If you pull away then you’re telling the truth but if you don’t then you feel the same way that I do.”

“I’m not doing that.” My eyes fall to his converse and I take a shaky inhale. There’s no way that this is happening, what is he thinking?

“You are.” He sounds like he’s pleading again, his words are careful but he means them, oh gosh. He leans forward, placing the bend of his pointer finger under my chin and lifting my head until my gaze meets his. “I’m sick of us pretending�� He whispers, his voice full of emotion. I can’t look away, my heart is pounding in my chest and I take a deep breath. His other hand reaches for mine, taking it and pressing chaste kisses to my knuckles. His eyes squeeze shut with each kiss and I can’t help but to take in the sight of him, his features softened by emotion, his emotions for me. I let out a shaky breath and whisper back.

"Han, we shouldn’t."

“Why not?” His eyes are still closed and he squeezes my hand as his lips move against the back of it. “I know you better than anyone on this earth. I love you more than anyone in this universe, you love me too, I know you do. What are you afraid of?”

“I told you, I can’t lose you.” My voice sounds more strained than I anticipated but I ignore it, it’s a reflection of how I feel. A verbal representation of the hurricane in my chest.

“If you’re so afraid to lose me then why won’t you be mine? Why won’t you let me have you?”

“Ji, stop it.” He drops the hand that he was kissing and moves his other hand to completely cup my cheek. We’re so close that his exhales are my inhales and I swear I can hear his heart pounding from here or maybe that’s mine.

“Let me kiss you.”

“Jisung” His name is merely a whisper as I exhale.

“Let me.” He whispers back and the sweet sound of his voice rings in my ears.

“Han.” I inhale the scent of him but it’s not the same, it's desperate, but it’s sweet. Much sweeter than usual.

“I’m going to kiss you.” He closes the gap between us and I hold my breath. His lips touch mine and the heat that I was feeling earlier multiplies with a spark of burning desire. He’s kissing me. My best friend is kissing me and only one word comes to mind. Perfect, this moment is perfect, he is perfect and I desperately don’t want him to be. His lips move against mine slowly, passionately, and I almost feel like I’m floating. I thought that I’d feel panic. I thought that I’d be scared but I’m not, he was right. Fuck it.

I sigh into the kiss as I melt into his touch, his fingers caress my cheek softly as I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer to me. His other hand rests on my hip, squeezing lightly and guiding me forward to straddle his lap. I climb onto him as I savor his taste. There's hints of beer and the blunt we shared but there’s a sweetness to it, it’s something that I can only describe as being him. It’s Jisung that I taste and he’s flooding my senses.

“I knew it.” He whispers against my lips before pressing me back into a hungry kiss. Our lips abuse each other relentlessly as they move in tandem. I can’t seem to control the small whines that escape me but I don’t mind because each one of my whines is matched with a desperate groan from Jisung.

“Be mine.” He whispers into my mouth and I sigh, content at the sound of it. He wants me, he wants to be with me… but what if I lose him?

“Ji.” I whisper back, trying my best to pull away but he holds me there. His hand on my cheek kept my lips on his. “Jisung” I lightly push at his chest, I can’t do this. We can’t do this. What if everything goes wrong? What if I lose him too? “Han.”

He stops, pulling away with heavy breath and dilated pupils. His blushed lips are more red than usual and he dips his tongue out to lick them quickly as he stares up at me.

“I can’t…” There’s a hoarse scratch to my voice as I stare back at him. “I can’t lose… we can’t do this.”

“We just did.”

109 notes · View notes

blouisparadise · 5 months

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Upon request, today we have the fourth part of our rec list of bottom Louis fics where Louis and Harry are friends who become lovers. If you'd like to check out the previous rec lists, you can find part one here, part two here, and part three here. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word.

Happy reading!

1) Truth Or Drink | Explicit | 5,548 words

Harry isn’t nervous. Of course he isn’t. He has done much more intimidating things than this. He has had sex with at least 100 men, and a few women along the way, while being filmed and watched by another 20 pairs of eyes. But for some reason the thought of doing this sounds a hundred times worse. He can feel his insides churning and sweat is starting to form on his palms. Sure, sex is Harry’s job and it has been for as long as he can remember. He doesn’t mind having a crowd of people watching him anymore, and everything is always quite professional. At the beginning things might have been a bit challenging but now it’s almost second nature. This, though, is more distressing than anything he has ever done before.

2) Incalescent | Explicit | 5,649 words

The onset of heat is something Louis still hasn’t learned to recognize.

3) You Step Where Words Are Written, Delicate Under Your Feet | Mature | 6,495 words

Prompt 513: A fic where Louis gives Harry a footjob over his pants while they're watching TV and Harry finds out he has a thing for Louis' feet.

4) Kiss It Better | Mature | 8,080 words

Harry shakes his head with a light laugh and leans down to kiss him again which Louis happily accepts even if he is a little confused by the reaction. "Baby, not a night has gone by that I haven't thought about you in my bed, naked, and begging for my cock." Blinking up at him with wide eyes, Louis opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out. While they did flirt a lot over the last few weeks, Harry had never said anything like that. It shocks him as much as it turns him on. "News to me." "I won't lie and say I like random hookups or casual sex, but to me this isn't what that is." Louis swallows thickly, unsure of what to say to that but once again Harry gives him an out. "So, If you want we can stay up here and I can show you all the things I've thought about doing to you." Another kiss, quick and sweet. "Or, we can go back downstairs and we'll dance all night."

5) To Love Without Reason | Explicit | 8,854 words

“Come on in, soldier,” Louis pats Harry’s chest and walks away, leaving Harry to follow behind. Harry stands in the living room, looking around at Louis’ dwelling. Family pictures placed high on a shelf, certificates of Louis’ practice, and other trinkets that make Harry entirely too nostalgic. “I have to warn you,” Louis says as he puts the kettle on, the water droplets from his hair trickling down the golden skin of his back. “The door jams if you lock it so you'll have to leave it ajar.” Harry acknowledges with a soft hum, too entranced by Louis’ glistening skin to form a coherent reply.

6) I Would Wait Forever (And Ever) | Not Rated | 10,018 words

Louis is brave but has the worst timing in the world, Harry doesn't want to lose his best friend and they just don't communicate enough.

7) If I Saw You Every Day Forever | Mature | 10,685 words

There really should be a statute on the number of dates one can go to because how much longer does Louis have to suffer through this? A modern AU in which Louis might have accidentally signed up for something he probably shouldn't.

8) Wait Until You're Sure | Explicit | 13,042 words

Prompt 465: Louis and Harry are best friends who made a pact. If neither of them has found love by the time they’re 30, then they’ll get married. It was all laughter and fun until Harry realizes they’re celebrating his 30th birthday and in a few months, Louis is gonna be 30 too. So, he struggles to find someone for Louis to avoid being together, but Louis just keeps rejecting all men Harry introduces to him (because he has feeling for him, of course), which really upsets Harry. They argue about that and Louis says something like “wow, it’s that bad to be with me?,” accepting that Harry simply doesn’t feel the same. Louis moves for a couple of months with another friend and Harry has all this time to understand his feelings, realizing that he loves Louis too and wants to be with him. But when he goes to tell him, Louis is already seeing someone else. So what’s Harry gonna do to get Louis back?

9) Candle Wax & Polaroids On The Hardwood Floor | Explicit | 13,082 words

Prompt 463: Clumsy modern witch Louis AU where he accidentally gives his roommate Harry a love potion and he has a crisis because he thinks he will get in trouble with the law for technically poisoning someone and Harry’s heart eyes aren’t helping.

10) Blackberries And Cherries | Explicit | 13,894 words

Louis is a witch and Harry is his human friend. When Harry needs help focusing on his schoolwork, the obvious solution is to ask Louis for a potion. You could say things don’t go quite right.

11) Bend The Rules | Explicit | 16,823 words

Prompt 588: Lous hires a ‘ghost cooking’ service because his family is worried he’s not eating well and he wants to impress them by showing them what an amazing cook he’s become. The service includes sending a discreet cook to your house and have them get everything ready so that you only serve and take the credit. Problem is, his sisters (can be OCs if that’s more comfortable) get to his flat earlier than planned and the actual cook has to hide in the master bathroom for hours. Louis is mortified. The cook is amused and helps him to clean and well. Gives him a thorough service. Feel free to pick your fave as the cook.

12) Swap Me For Your Shadow | Explicit | 16,829 words

If Louis thought being in love with his best friend was a knife that continually twisted into his heart before, it was nothing compared to when Harry started to go around talking about having fallen for someone else. A 5+1 fic; 5 times Louis has to listen to Harry’s vague confessions of love for his ‘omega friend’ and the 1 time Louis snaps and confesses his love for Harry.

13) Sometimes A Fantasy | Explicit | 18,654 words

There’s nothing to complain about when Harry’s walking around their flat with his cock swinging about, nothing to complain about when Harry’s pressing himself up against Louis’ naked backside when he’s reaching for a mug in their cupboards, and nothing to complain about when Harry’s got his hand firm on Louis’ arse when they’re cuddling on the couch. So, in reality, it’s really fucking weird, and Louis knows that. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like it.

14) Lonely Shadow Dancers | Explicit |20,838 words

“Mm,” Harry’s arms circle him, and their fumbling somehow turns into a cuddle session, “still can’t believe we’re here together.” Growing up with someone, one tends to become used to another. Used to the mannerisms and personality of them. Used to the changes and the things that stay the same. Harry hit puberty and sprung up into this cheeky curly flirt of an alpha and Louis still hasn’t found the time to get used to it. His stomach flutters and he bites back a stupid smile and wonders if he ever will.

15) The Mess We Created | Explicit | 21,099 words

An innocent one night stand changed into something more than that.

16) Not Safe For Work | Explicit | 23,295 words

I want to drown myself in Harry’s scent until I smell like him. “I think I'm open to trying that too. Sounds very good.” Louis shakes his head a little to get out of the Harry’s-scent-spiral. “Huh?” “The dish your finger's pointing at. I thought that might be what you’re choosing?” “Oh. Yeah.”

17) Sweet Like Honey | Explicit | 33,117 words

Weeks of flat shopping with their limited budget with Louis as a librarian aid and Harry as a barista and arguments about whether a balcony or extended bathroom suite were more important (Harry wanted to be able to feel the crisp night’s air and watch the sun set and Louis just wanted to take long bubble baths) led to them stumbling across the perfect fit. A small flat only ten minutes from campus with a cramped but lovely balcony and an included bath. It’s affordable too… well, sort of. But they always manage. Louis picks up more shifts as an aid, adapting a habit of bringing his Psych textbooks and homework with him to finish in between duties, and later his script so he can quietly practice lines with little distraction. Harry also increases his number of shifts at the cafe and valiantly endures the nasty customers who for some reason flock to their establishment like moths to a flame. For a while, it’s enough.

18) Once Burnt, Twice Shy | Explicit | 52,644 words

Louis and Harry are polar opposites in every way. Where Louis is a bestselling author from the city, Harry is a small-town firefighter who's never left his home. Where Louis is spontaneous and spirited, Harry is introverted and calm, never straying from routine. When an ill-fated accident and an exceptionally intelligent tabby bring them together, they are forced to confront their pasts and forge a better beginning for themselves. Will sparks fly, or will it all go up in flames?

19) Gallery Of Us | Explicit | 55,778 words

Harry knew what he was doing in life, everything laid out in black-and-white, each day pleasantly predictable. Cue lively art student, Louis, trying to find his place. An almost insufferably happy person who sometimes forgets to hide the way they feel meets the person who is diligent enough to notice and determined to make a difference.

20) If You’re Out There (I’ll Find You Somehow) | Explicit | 55,916 words

Harry looks so intensely into Louis’ eyes it’s as though he’s reaching in and touching his very soul. “I never thought… I never… I’ve been searching for so long, Louis, but I never gave up. I couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop trying,” Harry says, bottom lip trembling as he strokes the backs of Louis’ knuckles. “I just knew that if you were out there, I’d find you somehow.”

21) It’s Golden, Like Daylight | Explicit | 61,496 words

"I actually think you might be onto something.” Harry’s eyes widened. “You mean…” Louis nodded. “As crazy and insane as this, this might just solve both of our problems.” “Are you saying you’re in?” Harry asked. “I’m in.”

22) Derail The Mind Of Me | Explicit | 77,323 words

Beside the photograph of a gaunt, pale face spattered with blood and lips torn into a Glasgow smile was a bloodied object, crumpled and stained almost to the point of unrecognition. Another photo showed the object shoved into the woman’s mouth. While Harry leaned forward to get a closer look, Louis scrunched up his nose and purposefully kept his gaze locked on his computer screen, refusing to so much as glance at the gruesome images the rest of the team examined. “What is that?” Zayn frowned. “Is that a tarot card?”

23) Ghost Note Symphony | Explicit | 96,426 words

Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago. It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to. That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.

24) Our Endless Numbered Days | Explicit | 120,815 words

“Harry?” whispered Louis, his mouth dry, his nose pressing against the other’s warm skin. “Mh?” Harry’s humming was gentle, his fingers lightly caressing the younger boy’s arm, his chest steadily rising and falling beneath Louis’ cheek. A couple of seconds passed, and Louis looked up at him in the darkness of the cave, barely able to make out the expression on his face. When he tried to inhale deeply, his breath hitched. He struggled to find the words to tell Harry what he was thinking about. Another couple of seconds passed, and Louis listened to the reassuring beating of the prince’s heart beneath his cheek. He couldn’t. “Nothing,” he whispered, his voice weak. I think you’re half of my soul.

25) Love Will Tear Us Apart | Mature | 204,151 words

It was only meant to be a one night thing, but when the country goes into lockdown, Louis Tomlinson finds himself stuck in windsor castle, in company of his royal fucking highness, Harry, the prince of England.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#bottom louis #top harry #larry #fic recs #blp #blp fic recs #friends to lovers

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joneleslament · 3 months

Text

I've recently been replaying V3 and writing down like every line of diolouge that I see through an important lens(Because I have an unhealthy obsession with this goddamn game and I know like everything about it)

And it really bothers me how like every line of diolouge outside of trials or just any line that isn't fully voiced gets forgotten, Because it leads to so many relationships between the characters being overlooked or mischaracterized to hell and back

The biggest example is Maki and Kokichi's dynamic

Everyone in the fandom says they hate each other without even bothering to listen to each other. That Maki would try to kill him the second he steps into her line of sight. That Maki was always looking for an excuse to kill him

When it's so aggravatingly wrong.

Maki was mad at him for revealing her talent and putting her in harms way(Keep in mind, Before this, Maki thought of him in the exact same light as everyone else) but this only lasts maybe a day or so in canon or just one chapter at most. Because in the post trial of chapter 3...

This scene happens. And you can perfectly see that Maki talks calmly to him and promises HIM to his FACE. That she's going to work till everyone(Which includes him) can trust her And she would NOT say any of that if she hated him You can also tell Kokichi was genuinely surprised by this, You can tell by the sprite he uses(He only ever stops like that when he's surprised or being honest) Because he's perceived Maki as a cold blooded killer who would snap on him(Trying to kill him) by the slightest teasing word.(Which, ironically, Is how a lot of the fandom perceives her) And he perceived her that way because of his belief that murder is the worst thing a person can do(And he automatically sees people who've committed it as heartless killers until proven wrong, Which surprises him because he obviously doesn't see it often) But this perception of her is false and he learns this first hand when she replies calmly to him, Making a promise, and I can't stress this enough, TO HIS FACE she's gonna fix things between them so he can trust her even if she's an assassin Right after this he makes a comment to cover up the fact he was surprised and keep up the mask he's been playing on the whole game, But honestly I feel like his view on Maki has shifted in some way. Because we already know he hates her JOB and maybe this just helped him separate the sin from the sinner(per say) I will not deny Maki hated him in chapter five though, But that's only because he 1. Kidnapped Kaito And 2. Said he was the mastermind(Which Maki believed) But she would've hated anyone if they did that(Even someone like Shuichi) so it really isn't singled out on him. And I will also admit before this, Still in chapter five, she was angry at him and suspicious of him(Because he was now making promises to kill people if stuff didn't get interesting), But, Again. It isn't singled out on him. TLDR: Maki didn't hate Kokichi until she thought he was the mastermind, And Kokichi hated her job but was able to separate her from it

#danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #drv3 #danganronpa v3 killing harmony #danganronpa ndrv3 #maki harukawa #ndrv3 #drv3 maki #danganronpa maki #ndrv3 killing harmony #kokichi oma #danganronpa kokichi #drv3 kokichi #kokichi ouma #long post #long reads #rant post #rant

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dearmura · 11 months

Text

new hair, who dis?

☆ cw. some swearing, (not beta read)

☆ pairings. idol! Ni-Ki × fem! reader

☆ synopsis. Jokingly replying to Ni-Ki's latest post, you expected to be left on sent for the rest of life. Instead, you get a reply back...you're joking right?

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You sigh to yourself for the nth time that past hour, scrolling mindlessly in utter boredom. An image posted a few days ago catches your eye, one of Ni-Ki with his new blond hair. You scoff, could the company make it any more obvious they're having a comeback?

As much as you loved the new look, you couldn't deny your love for his previous Oreo hair. With a pout, you repost the picture, captioning to your few followers how much you hate hybe for changing his hair

As your eyes shift to the clock, you hiss, realizing how unproductive you're being

Peeling yourself away from your pillows, you shuffle your way into your kitchen, practically dragging yourself to your fridge with how lazy you're feeling

Grabbing a bottle of water, you bring it to your lips, about to take a sip when a buzz is heard from your phone

Not having any human interaction that day, you opted for checking the source, guessing somebody messaged you. Not to your surprise, it was nobody, but rather a notification indicating enhypen had made a new post

With enhypen's lack of content in-between promotional periods, you were thrilled to see an update. Shuffling back into your room, you lay back on your bed, clicking the post

You mentally squeal at the image of Ni-Ki posing for a selfie, double tapping your screen with so much enthusiasm one would've thought he'd come to life if you did so. In the midst of your fangirling, you came up with quite the stupidest, most delulu idea ever. To be fair, you had nothing to do, what else could a girl do to keep herself busy?

Opening up your dms, you search for Ni-ki's profile. You're hopeless, really

You scoff at yourself

Clicking on his profile, you conjure up quite the worst first message ever, failing at an attempt to be funny

Wait...have we met before? Cuz you look a lot like my future boyfriend

Before you back out of it out of pure cringe, you click send, immediately throwing your phone to the other side of your bed. You knew that idols don't even open their dms but the embarrassment lingered, nevertheless

After a few minutes of self-hatred, you open up your phone again, too bored to continue staring at the ceiling. Taking another sip of water, you hear a second buzz

You spray water all over your bed at the notification before your eyes. You slapped yourself to make sure you weren't seeing things, unfortunately, the sting on your skin confirmed your greatest fear that you were, in fact, not in a nightmare

I've got to admit, you've wooed me with that one

You scream into your pillow in pure embarrassment, avoiding the situation you got yourself into for a second

Your heart clenches once more when you hear another dreadful buzz

Leaving me on seen now? I thought you were interested, darling😞

You almost scoff at how dumb you looked right now. Nevertheless, you begin typing to not upset him further

If you're a hacker, this guy isn't even that famous, it's not worth it

You joke in hopes of lightening the mood, more for yourself though

Ouch

I come in peace

You giggle to yourself, still not processing your chat with THE nishimura riki

Sorry bub, if it makes you feel any better, I love your new hair, its almost as pretty as you

Almost

You don't know where all this confidence came from but all you know is that you're very obviously flirting with a literal idol. What have you done with your life...

Never thought I'd like being called pretty but here I am

He answered back wittily, making you scoff

Just as you're about to respond, your phone notifies you of a follow request...from him?

How about we make this our little secret, yea?

He texts almost immediately after the notification. Not entirely believing the current situation, you reply

Enough messing around

If you're gonna hack his account, just enjoy your followers and leave me alone

Rather than a text, you receive an image as a reply. A selfie. Of Ni-ki. One you know for a fact he's never posted on any socials

Yea? And what if I told you I wasn't a hacker, princess?

You almost cry, realizing your stupid pick up lines and attempts at jokes were actually received by the real Ni-Ki. Hesitantly, you accept the follow request

Yes, you were embarrassed, but who were you to pass up the opportunity?

Thanks babe😘

He texts back teasingly

Your story from earlier that day pops up with a reply underneath, knowing immediately you were screwed

Wait what happened to liking my hair, princess???

You really hurt my feelings:(((

Blushing in embarrassment for the nth time that day, you couldn't help but want to shrivel up into a ball and die already

Oh God

I'm so sorry

I didn't expect you to see that

I really like your hair

It looks really good on you

Fuck I'm sorry

You panic, tears coming to your eyes, hit with the realization you just offended your idol. Before you could beat yourself up further, you hear another buzz

No worries princess, I like my old hair better too:((

Though I am still a little hurt

Don't think I'll forgive you for that one love😞

Maybe if you take me out I can leave it behind us...

You practically cry at this point. Was he trying to flirt with you? And lowkey asking you out? Knowing you weren't in the right state of mind, you ignore your thoughts, opting for leaving this problem for future you

I uh need to go to bed

Good night, I hope I didn't bother you

You mentally curse at yourself for how stupid you sound

Oh love you could never bother me if you tried

I'll be expecting a reply on that offer next time;)

Sweet dreams angel

Next time? God you were about to throw up. You quickly like his message before throwing your phone, utterly flabbergasted at what just happened. You squeeze your eyes shut, praying what just happened was some weird dream

Fin

Author's note: Wrote this for a drabble request but clearly got too into it🥹🥹

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #ni ki enhypen #niki fluff #niki x reader #niki x you #nishimura niki #enha x reader #enha imagines #enha fluff

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olderthannetfic · 3 months

Note

I don't even think this is the type of thing you would normally get Asks about, but at this point I genuinely can't think of anyone better to come to and ask for their opinion.

I don't know if any of your followers have seen this situation as it's been occurring, but this massively popular mobile game that's been blowing up recently (called Love and Deep Space) has incurred a lot of drama and discourse as of a few days ago.

So LADS is an otome game, with a visibly femme/female protagonist who romances the male love interests. And a few days ago, the dev team behind LADS introduced this rule to all of their official groups and servers like Facebook and Discord: "Absolutely no BL materials are allowed to be posted or discussed in official spaces"

So, naturally, quite a few people are upset about what is basically a "no gays allowed" rule being forced onto the fandom. Because the "no BL" rules includes the posting of ANY queer content with "official" #LADS tags. Which for platforms like Twitter is absolutely unreasonable. They're stating that fanart of M/M ships can't be posted with any tags for the source material? It's ridiculous.

There's been people trying to defend it, saying things like "oh it's because of CN censorship laws" despite the fact that LADS isn't a CN game and the company isn't a CN company. Or "they only banned queer stuff in their official Discord and official Facebook group and for the official LADS tags on socmed!" even though that is still censorship and erasure of queer content (and somehow the fact that it's officially sanctioned makes it okay?)

But the worst part is the fact that there’s been an EXPLOSION of aggressive homophobia within the fanbase. It's as if all the cishet women who play the game were just waiting for their chance to go mask off, because the second those "no BL" rules were put in place the rampant harrassment and bullying started. People are getting attacked for M/M ship fanart, people are getting attacked for having male self-inserts or male MC or OC designs, and several artists have already been harrassed into deleting all of their artwork and leaving the fandom.

There's now a LOUD number of fans screeching that otome games "are only for girls" and that anyone even slightly queer or masc-leaning "doesn't belong in otome fandoms" and "needs to go play something else"

I've seen baseless accusations that "men want to force us to play as a gay male MC!" and "gay men are demanding that LADS turn the female MC male!" when absolutely no one anywhere has ever said anything close to that.

I have tried telling these fans that queer people, including queer men, have ALWAYS played otome games, that gay men and queer people have ALWAYS been a part of the otome community from the very beginning, but anyone who deviates even slightly from the new majority of "no gay shit allowed, otome is for straight women only and everyone else kys" gets immediately shouted down and harrassed/attacked. I know a lot of people have deleted the game and have stopped playing because of both the official "no gays" rule and also the extremely toxic and homophobic fanbase.

I was wondering if you knew about any resources (blogs, articles, anything) talking about the history of queer people playing otome/dating sim games, or even if you happen to know anything anecdotal about it yourself. Because we've ALWAYS been here, otome games have never been JUST for cishet women. I'm also just wondering what your/your followers' thoughts are about this whole mess in general.

Oof. I don't play many games of that sort, so I don't know a ton about their history, but there has often been pointless beef between the more self inserty types and the more m/m shipping types.

I don't think you need evidence that people besides cishet women consume media X. It should be self-evident from being a human who lives in the world. These people are denying it because they don't want it to be true, not because they do or don't have evidence.

"LOL, you're a homophobe in 2024? Criiiinge!" is the only appropriate type of response to these idiots. Facts won't help.

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xzhdjsj · 1 month

Text

Tangled in Love

Andrew x Reader

Okay before you continue this, I wanted to let you know this fic mentions description of hair texture. The reader has wavy/curly hair! Additionally, this fic is a rewrite of part 6 of Andrew’s story.

+a lil rant before the actual fic (you can skip the first part but please read the second)

I wasn't going to post this because it's a self-indulgent piece but hey I’m sure someone out there will enjoy it too. I've struggled with my hair for quite a while. It was one of my biggest insecurities, and I never knew how to take care of it. For the majority of my life, I've treated my hair as though it was straight, using straight hair products and styles, because that's what I wanted my hair to be. I hated the 'frizz' which in actuality was just me damaging my curl pattern😭 Thankfully, even though I couldn't see it, the people around me did and helped me manage and properly care for my hair. These days, I embrace my curls, and I love them more than anything! If I'm not rocking my curly hair I feel incomplete, it's become a huge part of me! I still have a long way to go, but I'm beyond happy I was able to finally recognise how beautiful my hair is.

That being said, I want to remind all of you that YOU ARE PERFECT! I know we doubt and pick at ourselves from time to time, but it's important to remember THOSE DOUBTS DON'T DEFINE US! Every imperfection and flaw is what makes you perfectly, uniquely and most of all beautifully YOU. Please remember to be kind to yourself and never ever stop loving yourself ❤️

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It's been months since Andrew ended things with me. At first, I prided myself in being mature and acted like the entire thing never even happened. I stopped sitting where his eyes can easily find me, I never take similar routes as he would and avoided his office at all cost. It was easy to find a temporary tutor to help with my assessments, that way I didn't even need to attend his tutorials.

The less contact with him the better. This little routine was good and dandy, getting me by as I immersed myself completely in y work. If I distracted my mind, I wouldn't need to think of Andrew, right? Wrong.

So fucking wrong.

Every other thought, he was on my mind. I wondered how he'd answer questions on my exam preps, and his opinion on every sentence I wrote. I thought of him so much, it was sickening and before I knew it I was tired and relapsing.

I gave university my all until I couldn't anymore. I was heartbroken and ignoring my feelings only made them worst. They burdened my mind, and I spent nights upon nights crying my eyes swollen into my pillows. I knew I had to accept it somehow but the ghosts of him haunts me, even in my dreams.

Last night’s dream was an especially painful one. I vividly remember the look on his face and the way my heart shattered into a million pieces as he drove away that day. What a shit start to my day!

I rolled out of bed, heading straight for the bathroom where I splashed my face with cold water and looked into the mirror. What a mess, my hair was messy and unkept and not in and attractive, quirky way, more closely resembling a bird’s nest. I wonder if Andrew could ever love me even when I look like this.

I sigh, rubbing my temples and trying not to cry again. Maybe a nice long shower would help, so I did just that. I stayed under the running water for more than an hour, then detangled my hair before stepping out. It did help, at the very least I felt clean and refreshed.

Today was going to be more or less going to be simple, there was a single task posted on Moodle and that’s all I needed to get done.

I settled into a comfy set of clothes and started drying my hair, only to be interrupted by a knock on my door. Who could that be? I threw the towel over a chair and opened the door, and my eyes are met with the last person I wanted to see.

“Hi, I’m here to speak to you” His mouth is agape and he looks a bit shocked.

Speak to me? Here to speak to me? My mind roared. Absolutely not. I was about to slam the door in his face, but he steps forward.

“Only as a professor!” He clarifies. “May I please come in?”

“Fine, but make it quick.” I demanded.

He sighs, “Thank you.”

He steps inside and I lock the door behind him. A waft of his scent hitting my nose, God how I missed that.

“I've emailed you several times about booking a tutorial, whether that be online or in person, and I haven't heard anything back. Me being here is a last resort. It's part of my job to make my students are well, and that if they're struggling, I can point them in the right direction.” He paused, finally taking his eyes off me to look around. “You have a nice place. It's what I imagined it would look like.”

“That’s not why you’re here And- Mr. Marston.”

“Yes, strictly business it is then, though, I don't want to treat it as such.” His eyes are on me again, but I refuse to give him the same attention choosing to fidget with my fingers instead. “I'll try and keep things brief for the both of us. You've been attending as usual, on top of your work as usual and nothing on the surface warrants concern, but because this is around the time where I need to be updated on essay plans and what you intend to do, us talking to one another is inevitable and for your records, and my peace of mind, we must.”

“It’s going good.” I replied, monotoned.

“It’s going good? Is that’s all I get?” He pushes.

“It’s an update, is it not?”

“It's a different response. In the past when we had our tutorials, that went on for at least an hour, you were so passionate about your subject, you made your own reading list and clearly planned out your arguments. You talked me through every point and asked for my opinion just to be sure you couldn't look at it from any other angle because you were adamant about not just getting it right but understanding different perspectives. Tutorials are only supposed to last around half an hour. Why do you think I always put you in the last slot? The look you have when you lose yourself to your ideas, when your eyes spark with this clarity I never want to stop you mid-thought or let that light disappear.” He rants and I wish he’d stop describing me that way.

“First and foremost, I am your professor. I’m here to nurture your curiosity and always have you searching for answers so when you don't show up to your tutorials I get concerned.”

“But I attend classes and all my work is completed. Is that not enough?”

“Your work is fine but that's not the problem I-” He paused and sighs for the hundredth time, “I want to ask how you are.”

“Now you’re interested in that?”

“I never had the chance to and even if I did try to talk to you would you have answered?”

Well shit, he’s got me there. I stay quiet and stare at my feet.

“You've been avoiding me for over a month now and I completely understand why. It's enough that you're still going to classes and doing your work, and I can't imagine what you must be feeling having to be taught by me even now. For the pain I still give you, I am sorry. For the pain I gave you that day, I am sorry.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Is that why you’re here? To say sorry?”

“I didn't come here under the pretense of apologizing but… it's something I’ve been meaning to do for a while now. The rumours have died down but that doesn't change the thoughts people still have. It's not something that we should live with, but we must.” He regains his composure quickly, shifting the conversation back to university. “Anyway, care to tell me anything else about your essay? Any avenues you're thinking of exploring? Any reading material that's caught your eye?”

“What about you? Howe you Andrew?” I finally find his face with my eyes.

“I thought you wanted to keep this strictly business.” He uses my words against me. “Don't worry about me. I want you to focus on your studies.”

He smiles and it makes my heart skip a beat.

“Have you… Have you seen the petition?”

“Yes, I’ve seen it. I considered resigning and letting them win.” My eyes widen at his confession.

“Rumours can get out of hand quickly. Heh, never in my life did I think I’d be called such names. Now people think I let students get close to me to get good grades, no matter the gender. I’m a danger to all apparently.”

He sounds tired too, that’s one thing I can sympathise with him.

“The dean’s comment eased some of the backlash, but this is a burden I’ll most likely carry for the rest of my career.” He continued.

I stay quiet, unsure how to respond to him. I supposed we’ve both been hurting in our own ways.

“Can I be frank with you?” He catches my attention again and I look up from my thoughts. “I don’t regret any of it. It was one of the most honest decisions I’ve ever made. My only regret is not protecting you when it mattered and- and I’ll never be able to undo that.”

Fuck he always makes things so difficult for me.

“When I saw that video, and those comments I panicked. The first thing that came to my mind was how you’d feel reading them and how you’d continue knowing people thought of you that way. I know how that feels, something similar happened to me years ago. It hurts being ostracised and judged on lies and when you wade in that water you still have to hold your head up high, so you don’t drown. But thinking back I was irrational. I let my own fears get the better of me and made a decision that was not only mine to make. I… I should have spoken to you before driving you away. I’m not asking for your forgiveness or pity. I just need to let you know this.”

“So what now?”

“That’s a good question, I would say we continue as we are now, I only have your best interests at heart and that should be more important to me than my feelings for you.”

“You… you still have feelings for me?”

“Of course, I do! You think they just stopped? I tried burying them, stifling them, but every time you walked into my lectures it was impossible not to remember all the things we experience together.”

“Andrew look at me.” I shake my head. “I look awful, I’m a mess.”

“I disagree. You’re still as beautiful as the day I left you. If not, even more. Your hair, I- I’ve never seen it like that. It might just be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

My hair? I haven’t even straightened it like I always do. How could he find this beautiful?

“Still, you said it yourself, this could never work. Why would you-“

“I’m saying my heart wants to follow you again. Despite it all, I still want you.” He sounds so desperate, and I can feel my heart in my throat. “But this isn’t about what I want. It’s up to you. I you want nothing to do with me outside of university, so be it. If you want to give this a chance, a real chance, I’m fine with that too.”

“Andrew I-“

“You don’t need to give me an answer now, or at all actually. Just… do what you feel most comfortable with.”

That day I had a lot more to think of as I stood in front of my mirror once again. My hair was still unstraightened and a thought crossed my mind. I remember Andrew’s words before he left.

“I know I said it before, but your hair really does beautiful. I can’t quite get over it. It suits you.”

Maybe if I was going to give this another shot, it was time to start afresh. No more secrecy and sneaking around. I stare at my hair in the mirror. Maybe it did suit me and it wouldn’t hurt to try something new, would it?

Months later I feel so much better, the air is clearer, the sun is shining and I’m finally ready to talk to Andrew again.

I sat the window of the café I asked to meet at, looking over at the door each time the bell chimed. This time I was right, it was him. He spots me quickly and walks over.

“Hi, I know I’m a little early. May I sit?”

“Of course, please do” I urge him.

“I see you changed your hair. It looks really good.”

I run my fingers across the soft curls on my shoulder.

“Less of a change more of an embrace I’d say. I thought it was about time I stopped straightening it and wear my natural hair.”

“Not that you were any less beautiful before, but I find it harder to keep my eyes off you now.”

I smile. My cheeks are probably flushed, I can feel them all warm like the fuzzy feeling in my stomach.

“You know it’s very similar to my decision.” I tell him. “It’s another thing I want to embrace and flaunt to the world.”

“And I'll accept it no matter what it might be. So, what's your decision?”

My ass is off the chair in an instant, and I lean over the table to pull his face to mine. I missed kissing him, I missed kissing him so damn much.

#sorry for ze long rant #i just wanted to let you whos reading this know that I love you!#every part of you!#zsakuva #sakuverse #asmr #andrew #andrew marston #hair is looking gorjus but my pockets hurt from buying hair products😭

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hyperesthesias · 8 months

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Can you actually write something smutty for Viktor? Or just a guide on how to? I really want to write some Viktor smut, but I'm worried I won't do his disability justice as I'm able bodied and a dumbass

Of my twelve years on this webbed site, this has got to be the best ask I have ever received lmao

I would be happy to help, friend. I'll answer this in two parts.

Yes, I am planning on writing Viktor smut for Viktor x Anya. I had a lot happen in the year since I made the post you're referencing, but I've finally been able to get back into fandom stuff. I wanted to lay some backstory with them first though, as I am apparently a PWP kind of person lmao. It's coming soon! (No pun intended).

You've taken the first great step in recognizing that your experience and knowledge may not be congruent with potential portrayal, and therefore asking for advice. I don't mean to sound patronizing at all. I am an author and I have seen many professional authors that don't do this, so you're already ahead of the game! I wouldn't consider that dumbassery in any way, shape, or form.

I'll put the rest under a cut due to the nature of this post.

*Disclaimer to this is, of course, I don't speak for every disabled person, this list isn't extensive, and these are my opinions.

I, personally, operate under the assumption that Viktor has Post Polio Syndrome. Looking at photographs (x, x, x) it's pretty clear the animators used PPS as a framework for Viktor's movements and posture, as well as his mobility and assistive devices. People with PPS often develop need for braces, canes or crutches, and treatment for scoliosis -- all of which Viktor has. You are more than welcome to headcanon something different, as I don't believe the writers or animators have ever confirmed or denied PPS, but based on my own experience and research, I would bet money on it.

That being said -- regardless of PPS, or otherwise -- the first thing to consider when writing smut for any disabled character is fatigue. It may not be the obvious thing, as mobility devices often are the first thing to catch an observer's eye. But there is so much that goes on beneath mobility devices. Fatigue is a big one.

Consider the worst flu you've ever had -- all the time, every day, even in your sleep. It can be maddening, like you can't get any relief -- even if you take pain reliever or use other analgesics. Most people with a severe flu aren't exactly in the mood to be frisky, especially spontaneously. Many physically disabled people rely on preplanning. Having a date night where they can plan for extra pain reliever, or where they can schedule the rest of their day or week to conserve energy for a special night. The psychological energy that people need to conserve alone can take a lot of effort. Being disabled is also mentally exhausting, especially when you have a partner and their needs to consider. Giving a disabled person time to prepare for sex (or other tasks) is essential.

Related to that, is the fact the energy levels aren't always consistent. A disabled person and their lover could be going at it like rabbits for a while and then suddenly the disabled partner may need to stop because their "battery" (their physical energy levels) has run out. They may need a break for a few minutes, or they may just need to end the sexual encounter altogether.

The worst thing you (or your character) could do is take this personally. It has nothing to do with their partner, it's their body that is (frustratingly [on many levels]) not cooperating.

Something to toy with (no pun intended) when writing characters with energy level deficits is vibrators. Twice the work with half the effort. Don't be afraid to write smut with toys and vibrators -- it doesn't even have to be kinky. Toys and vibrators are normal and vanilla, all things considered. The only reason they haven't been normalized is because of patriarchal standards as to what sex is and is supposed to be.

The second thing to consider is physical limitations of positions and potential discomfort. I've seen several fanfic writers describe situations and positions that Viktor simply would never be able to do (e.g. lifting his partner onto a table or desk).

Viktor doesn't have a lot of strength. That's not to say he can't be rough or that all smut has to be vanilla. But realistically, it's absurd to think that he can lift someone else or manhandle them with any force, or thrust at the speed of light (💀). He also doesn't have any balance whatsoever post Act I. During Act I, he's able to hobble somewhat without his cane, as long as he has something to hold onto, as seen in episode three. But in Acts II and III, his balance issues combined with scoliosis would make any positions where he has to stand much more difficult.

Therefore, if you're wanting to write a scene somewhere outside of a bedroom (e.g. the lab, his office, etc.), he'd need something to balance himself. Seated sex is a great concept to play with -- very disability friendly and offers many options for all sorts of scenes. Desk/table sex is also realistic, as long as your character lifts themself onto the desk or table, and he's able to lean on it.

Scenes that take place in the bedroom also have their own limitations. He has zero use of his right leg, which means he'd need more time to get in and out of different positions. Missionary would take a toll on his back, I'd imagine, from being hunched over -- not that he couldn't do it at all, but that was more of a sidenote. Having your character straddle him, while his back was supported, is probably the most comfortable position I can imagine. Or spooning. Or maybe doggy, though I think his back and hips might get tired. But I'm just spit balling at this point. Utilizing objects from the setting is important -- pillows, having your character bent over the back of a couch, etc. This is where creativity comes in -- it's just important to keep in mind where his limitations are located on his body: his back and his leg/hip.

There are also adaptive devices for sex and disabilities.

One final thing I want to say is: don't overcorrect. This is common. It's one thing to keep a character's disability in mind, but it's another to make a disability the entire character. Just because Viktor is disabled doesn't mean he can't have the filthiest, most disgusting, raw, life changing, I-should-visit-a-confessional type of sex. However you headcanon him to be in bed is exactly how he can be. If you see him as a cruel Dom, he absolutely can slap the shit out of whoever has the pleasure of being beneath him, while he makes them beg for his mercy -- with his back and leg supported. If you see him as a bratty sub, he can be that, too -- while he lies there with a back pillow to relieve pressure off his spine. If he's the plainest, blander-than-vanilla type of lover, that's exactly what he is -- while he takes a few extra minutes to move from one position to the next. If he's any combination of those things, more power to you.

The point of writing a scene, is the point you're trying to make. Meaning: a lot of writers worry about conveying ideas and settings perfectly and with detail, while losing sight of the main point of their story. Rarely will you ever have to add paragraphs to a piece of writing in order to convey something, especially if it's not the main point. Often, it only takes one or two sentences. Keep the main point of the scene in mind. If you're writing a fic where Viktor and your character are secretly getting it on in the lab, then the point and the idea of that scene is the forbidden sex they are having. Not necessarily his limitations. You can easily acknowledge Viktor's disability by saying something like: 'Viktor sat on a chair at the far end of the lab, away from the door's line of sight. He leaned his back against the seat, allowing his spine to settle, before he coaxed his lover onto his lap. His lover straddled his legs, reaching to kiss his neck, while his hand trailed up their thighs...' You've successfully conveyed the limitations he has in two sentences, while maintaining the focus of your scene, and without reducing Viktor to a caricature of his disability. Less is more throughout your fic.

As a side note, which is completely my headcanon -- and something I've vaguely alluded to in my Viktor x Anya fics -- is that Viktor also has erectile dysfunction as a result of the PPS. Polio is a neurological virus, meaning is attacks the nerve cells, the main cause of the atrophy in PPS. It isn't common, but it's not uncommon for males with PPS to struggle with ED. As such, in my own personal stories, I have mentioned that Viktor takes medication to help with it. Sildenafil (the generic for Viagra) is a medication that specifically targets nerves.

That's my own person interpretation, though, and has no bearing on what we seen in Arcane lol.

To close this off for now, I want to reassure you that your efforts count and they matter. No one will write any depiction of disability 'perfectly'. Disability is unique to every person, and one person's spinal disability will look different to another's. Even people with the exact same diagnosis and prognosis will differ in how they experience it. You're not a dumbass. You're very intelligent to recognize the need for external resources. Enjoy yourself, enjoy the work you write, and keep asking questions.

If and when you decide to write your Viktor smut piece, I would love to read it. And likewise, if you'd like to read what I write I'd be happy to send it to you! If you're comfortable coming off anon, you can message me privately and we can talk more!

#viktor #viktor arcane #arcane #netflix arcane #viktor smut #viktor x reader #arcane viktor x reader #arcane viktor x you #viktor x you #arcane smut #disability #disability advocacy #disability awareness #viktor the machine herald #viktor fanfic #viktor fic

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wutheringmights · 2 months

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can i ask for the hot mess commentary plz?

sure

Before we crack into this, take a moment to read what I said about the neck thing. I write that up a long time ago, but it provides some important context and is a good refresher on the secret history of Spirit's bi awakening.

Also, the director's commentary for this chapter is here, in case you want to review that.

Good? Okay, let's go at it.

So.... they had sex. Yay. Insert jazz hands.

I feel like I actually have way less to talk about here than I did for the neck thing. Granted, a lot of the neck thing is behind the scenes stuff. I guess that's a good place to start.

You may recall the informal hiatus CTB went on after Spirit came back to Warriors's era. I used a lot of that time to actually work out how to end CTB and what character/plot points I would need to hit to have a satisfying conclusion.

During this time, I was listing out things about Spirit and Warriors that I need to return to. Spirit had his codependent histories with the greenhorn and Zelda, or really his strategy for offering himself up as a means of feeling more in control, that needed to be explored. I needed to do some kind of follow-up with Warriors's latent attraction.

The two topics were similar enough to make me want to tackle them at once. But the moment I did, my brain decided that they should hate fuck. (I definitely was also thinking about my old concept of Spirit's unrequited crush-- I still write the characters like that happened, even if it never actually made it into the story.)

Why hate sex? Honestly, it would be kinda funny. Plus, it's a good writing exercise to ask yourself what would happen if your characters in conflict did (not really).

I knew immediately it could only end badly for everyone involved. But I knew I needed Warriors to hit an emotional low point to motivate him to do his Castle Town plan. I knew I wanted Spirit's big speech to come at a time when he and Warriors were emotionally connecting again, and that the response to that speech needed to push him back to Time.

Shit, I thought. This might be what they do.

But, like. I love protecting my peace. I have been skirting around the edges of homo eroticism with Spirit and Warriors as much as I dared. I didn't want to invite angry anons. But then.... did I really care? I understand where people are coming from, but at the same time... this is such a minuscule non-issue. Truly, and with emotion: who even cares?

First off, we already established with the neck thing that whatever fucked up thing these two have going on does not count as shipping. And second, if it does count as shipping, then fine! It's shipping then. This is what the plot is. I've been working on this story for too long to compromise now. I'll reap the consequences, whatever they may be.

I decided to keep it on the books, half believing I would change my mind once the chapter came up.

I was feeling very confident about my choice, up until the day of posting. That was then I got slammed in the face with regret. Luckily, there hasn't been any issues. I may have overestimated as much the general populous care about CTB. If there was ever any confirmation that this story has the world's most niche audience, this is it.

And you all have been great. There's been a lot of encouragement and kind words from you the readers, after you all stopped yelling, of course.

(Though I was prepared to be an obstinate jackass to anyone who tried to complain. I found a loophole and was ready to exploit the hell out of it. I was so ready!)

Funnily enough, everyone's reactions to the past few chapters helped to reassure me the most. There was been a lot of jokes about Warriors and Spirit having the world's worst situationship (lol).

So them having sex turned into an important character and plot moment. Warriors and Spirit got built up and tore down in self-destructive ways. This experience becomes the wake-up call Warriors needed to decide that he was ready to stop being the hero and get his life back.

A lot of people expressed surprise that Warriors and Spirit would go through with it even after talking it out. To be honest, I was a little surprised too! I was half convinced that Warriors had grown enough to stop the self-destructive cycle and turn Spirit down. But when looking at the scenes leading up to them being alone-- from Twilight denounce his friendship with Warriors, Toto turning him away, and Warriors generally in an emotional rut over his intellect and lost beauty--I realized that Warriors was already in the middle of another downward spiral. He would go through with this, if only to feel valued. It was the war all over again.

Also, apparently half of you guessed that Warriors would get cigarette burns from Spirit eventually. I hope you all were happy with the results!

When I posted that snippet from the chapter, apparently all of you knew that a kiss was coming. Ooops. I'm a little glad I surprised all of you with what happened next afterward.

On to funnier things:

I meant for there to be more compare/contrasts between Warriors's nights with Icarius and Spirit. The only one I really managed to do was Link being unable to sleep next to Icarius vs Warriors falling asleep easily.

Because this chapter and the last were supposed to be one, this scene was supposed to come out around Valentine's Day. Could you imagine?

I had the silliest time trying to figure out how to get Warriors and Spirit alone in a room together. I had this grand plan about them needing to get a room in a different inn from the others, whether because they were too tired to walk home after dancing or because they were too drunk to remember the way. Then I realized that Ganondorf could just give the Chain enough money to get more rooms. I realized this way later than I should have.

If you're wondering.... they switched....

I wrote that Warriors thought that sex with Spirit felt like an argument. That is because they are both the bossiest motherfuckers in bed. They both want things done their way or else. It's combative. Unfortunately, they both like the challenge.

I did have an idea for how to end this whole matter in a funny way, both involving someone from the chain finding out.

In my first idea, Time barges into what he thinks is just Warriors's room, in the middle of some kind of rant. Then he sees both of them sitting in bed, pauses, then promptly walks out. Warriors and Spirit quickly get dress before there's a knock on the door. When Warriors opens, Time walks in casually and starts his rant again while pretending none of this had happened. He would wait until Warriors was alone to be like WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!

My other alternate scenario involves Warriors and Spirit getting a room in a different inn. In the morning, Spirit is hurriedly trying to leave when there's a knock on the door. This time, it's a few members of the chain asking if he's seen Warriors anywhere. He says no. All but one walk away. The one who stays (probably Legend) would lean and discreetly tell him that he knew the room was under Warriors's name, so if they were done, could he tell Warriors to get his ass outside? Cue Spirit burning up in embarrassment.

EDIT: I actually had a third silly scenario idea. Similar to the others, Twilight barges in to talk to Warriors about Midna (they're still friends in this scenario; this was an idea from a long time ago). Warriors is still in the bed, but luckily Spirit is in the bathroom. Warriors tries to have a normal conversation without alerting Twilight that something was amiss. And it almost works until Spirit just walks out of the bathroom, waves, and goes to put his clothes on. Cue Twilight's 404 error.

So, yeah! That's the Hot Mess. As always, it's been really fun to see everyone's reactions. Warriors and Spirit are both extremely polarizing, and I love hearing everyone's hot takes.

Does this count as toxic yaoi? Not until I see an AMV to "Numb" by Linkedin Park. Luckily, Warriors and Spirit will never do this again. Probably.

#same rules as last time: please keep this out of the main tag #it's been fine so far but let's not tempt fate lol #feel free to ask follow up questions as well #me rambling #lu ctb #ctb lore #ctb spoilers #the hot mess #ctb commentary

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