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halemerry · 10 months

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On Crowley, memory, and identity.

So full disclosure first, I am not someone who is particularly interested in having Crowley's angel name on screen - personally I rather like the idea of never having an answer to this question - but I also do think it's interesting and fun to speculate and we got quite a few hints at this throughout this season soooo

Obviously part of this is that we meet him. The angel that would become Crowley is the first person on screen this season. We confirm a lot about him here. He confirm that he is powerful enough to start the engine of the universe. We confirm that he can control gravity and time and space and light. We confirm that he is the being that says let there be light before the beginning. We also confirm that he consulted with the concept designer of the universe and that he's very comfortable with the idea of questioning authority. We are also given Aziraphale's anxiety as a contrast to this and as proof that that is not a universal trait for early angels.

Now, we have always had evidence that Crowley is powerful. He's done some things that seem impossibly big. He stops time very casually and seemingly without effort - even at the end of season 1 it doesn't even seem to give us the same strain on him that holding the Bentley together does. This is a thing that we only ever see Crowley do and notably a thing that you would think other beings would mess with to their advantage if it was possible. Which means they either literally can't or that it never occurred to them that they could. Or as is becoming increasingly clear: perhaps it's a bit of both.

But that's not the only implication of power we get in season 1 either. We get Crowley seemingly in tune with the universe in a way many angels and demons aren't. Which, makes some sense if he helped make it. This manifests in all sorts of ways. He's constantly aware of Aziraphale's presence. He can smell when the world state changes like when Adam names Dog. He holds the Bentley together through utter destruction. He notices that there are different books in the bookshop - something I always assumed was meant to convey he was familiar with the shop's contents but after learning he didn't even know Jane Austen was a writer I wonder if it's actually more to do with him being in tune with reality. He also can apparently quite literally feel when there are eyes on them.

We're given even more of all these things this season in some really interesting ways. Crowley literally tests the air to check if a miracle has happened - another thing that we don't see anyone else do despite Heaven literally assigning someone to Aziraphale to check for a specific miracle. This particular beat is also something we are shown twice this season. Both here and in 1941, when Furfur uses the miracle blocker on Aziraphale. Here Crowley tests his miracles and despite getting nothing of the sort when Aziraphale tries a miracle literally the beat before this, we are given both a visual and an auditory effect. It ripples out with a watery sound effect from Crowley's finger. It's like he's prodding at reality.

There's also several instances involving the recognition or lack thereof of angels and demons. Crowley feels that the demon army is arriving before it does. Neither side seems to be able to track Gabriel - one of the most powerful beings in existence - at all once he leaves Heaven. We also see countless angels fail to notice Crowley himself both as Bildad the Shuhite performing literal miracles right in front of them. And this happens again as he prances about Heaven after Muriel. Aziraphale can't tell Shax is a demon despite Crowley recognizing she's manifested behind him nearly as soon as he answers the phone. Aziraphale can't even recognize that he himself is still an angel at the end of the Job story.

He also. Quite literally. Brings someone back from the dead???? Like waves a hand casually on the street and reconstitutes Mr. Brown like he'd never been dead at all. Mr. Brown returns with no memory of what happened to him holding a newspaper that seems to have literal bite chunks coming out of it. It's not framed as a huge miracle or anything strenuous either - just a casual snap.

And that's not even getting into the parallels with Gabriel. First of all. We get the color purple. It's purple when Aziraphale and angel that would become Crowley start the engine of the quadrants of the universe and it's purple when they miracle to hide Gabriel. This color is associated with power and, historically in the language of this show, with Gabriel himself. Them using it together twice speaks a lot to the power they have together.

But that's not the only symbolism historically tied to Gabriel that has found its way to Crowley this season either. Most flashy of all is the lightning. This is how we see Gabriel arrive on earth at the end of season one and it is something Crowley apparently just Does when he gets too mad to contain himself.

This alone wouldn't catch my attention except. Except the way Crowley reacts to Gabriel's memory problems is... interesting to say the least. He's angry and understandably so. Part of this is him being mad and protective of Aziraphale - he says as much himself to Jim directly. And yet, weirdly, it's the kind of mad that reminded me of something else.

This is the mad he tends to gets at his plants. Do it properly. Think hard. You can do better than that. Grow better. It's the kind of angry that's steeped in projection. It's he kind of angry that is undercut with the occasional weird undercurrent of understanding. And so much of his dialogue with Jim around this is framed like he does actually understand. Jim says it hurts and he says he knows. Jim starts talking about it feeling like being an empty house that still remembers where the furniture is and Crowley immediately latches onto this and understands ah it's looking at where the furniture isn't.

And there's a few other conversations that center around this issue that I find really interesting from a projection perspective. There's the conversation that happens when Crowley goes to have an alcohol fueled chat with Jim. He says "You're Jim now. Got everything just the way you wanted?" This doesn't make a whole lot of sense for him to be addressing Gabriel with. As far as he knows all Gabriel would want was the end of the world.

And then there's the particular way he asks Jim to eliminate himself in this scene. Climb out the window. In other words, have a fall. Something he pretty immediately retracts and clearly feels guilty about no matter how much he hates Gabriel.

And then there's the first conversation he gets to have after learning about Gabriel. Crowley opens this conversation, thinking out loud. He's staring out, not talking to Az yet and the very first thing out of his mouth is, of all things: "He's going to be okay." A weird start for a statement about Gabriel in itself but then Crowley goes and adds what at it's core is his own trauma narrative to the end with, "We can just take him somewhere and leave him there."

Now the real fun bit: Crowley also has memory issues that are out very prominently on display even as far back as season 1.

He has inconsistent memories of his Fall. The answers he gives us to why he Fell change slightly - even when he's alone with himself. He doesn't seem to understand why exactly he Fell even though he clearly has some vague idea of the pieces in play. I always thought to some degree that this was just a trauma response, but season 2 drew even more attention to this and now that we know that memory alteration is how Heaven handles powerful angels I can't help but to wonder if there's more in play here.

Crowley can't remember Furfur - who he apparently literally fought next to during the war in Heaven. Crowley can't remember building a nebula with Saraqael. Crowley doesn't remember why they decided gravity was a good idea.

But he does remember bits and pieces here and there. He remembers doing some of the starmaking. He remembers how to access clearance locked files. He's missing pieces and also seems to have an understanding that Gabriel's memories ARE in there. Almost like he's done this work on himself before.

This narrative itself is also far more concerned with the angel Crowley was this time around. It teases his rank a few different times. Most notably is him having access the files only available to Dominions and above.

Now angel hierarchy is a bit of a messy area depending on what sources you're using but given Good Omens tendencies in the past we can assume that this leaves us five ranks. Dominion, Throne, Cherub, Seraph, and Archangel.

I might break down why I think Dominion, Throne, and Cherub feel kind of odd to me later if there's interest - now available here - in that but given the current length of this meta I just want to focus on that last one for now.

Crowley was an Archangel is far from a new theory and I've honestly historically had some fairly mixed feelings about it. But the parallels between Jim and Crowley lend some interesting connective tissue to a lot of those theories. And. There's also some interesting camera work and script writing tied to Crowley and that term outside of the scenes about Gabriel's memories specifically.

Firstly, during Crowley's chat with Beelzebub he says it's a big universe with plenty of places for an archangel to hide. Like Alpha Centauri perhaps?

Then we get Aziraphale and Crowley both presenting Hell and Heaven respectively the idea that it could have been them that did the archangel class miracle. Aziraphale gets scoffed at and yet. Shax is the one who says the miracle was archangel level and Crowley's response is "how do you know I didn't do it?"

Then later as she's prowling about the shop we get this interesting shot of Crowley in the doorframe and Jim in the background. Crowley grins and offers to let Shax look in and see if she can see any archangels in there while he's framed dead center and Jim himself is blurry in the back of the frame.

And most fascinating in my opinion is this shot that happens when Crowley and Muriel are accessing the classified files. Nearly every shot in this sequence is group shots or shots of Gabriel. The camera is focused in the plot and the way the archangels function as a group and on Gabriel himself. But we get one single shot in this entire sequence of Crowley by himself and it is immediately following Gabriel saying "I am the only first order archangel in the room - or, well, the universe."

And then in the end. We get the Metatron who goes out of his way to avoid using Crowley's name. He calls him demon (and insists correctly that Crowley would recognize him even when Michael doesn't) or refers to him as Aziraphale's friend. He only ever uses that name when trying to use him as a bribe for Aziraphale. That combined with the dark look he gives Crowley implies a familiarity that only the Metatron has with him.

So who is he then? There's plenty of old meta out there about why certain archangels fit or don't and I won't reiterate them here. They're interesting and definitely worth poking around at and very fun to read! Personally I'm not as interested in naming the someone he used to be as I am in examining the places that ghost of this angel has started to poke through the narrative so I'll end this here. It's spiralled into something far longer than I ever meant it to be anyway.

#good omens #good omens spoilers #good omens season 2 #gos2 spoilers #good omens meta #Crowley #Gabriel

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five-thousand-loaves-of-bread · 1 year

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my frustration with “going nonverbal/nonspeaking” (as a fully nonverbal person)

transcript: my frustration with “going nonverbal/nonspeaking” (as a fully nonverbal person)

this written for instagram because of this post. but thought tumblr may like it too. “you” means general you, no one specific.

the instagram post and this on wordpress

this disclaimer is for instagram but also for anyone new to this discussion:

in full honestly, don’t know how to write this. am tired, language and complex ideas too much at time of writing, and general exhaust at having to argue same thing over and over again and justify own existence. tired of being minority within minority, wish there are others to do these work for me so i don’t have to do it all by self, singlehandedly advocate for everyone (not to mention problem with that—i can’t speak for everyone).

so honestly, if you don’t have anything nice to say, especially if you speaking (yes, even if you lose speech. include you), just don't say anything at all. move on.

online actually autistic community (AAut) dominated by white, lower support needs. level 1, speaking, late diagnosed, high masking autistics. find people like you is great, what not great is you treat your very narrow community as “voice of all autistic” and your experience as ultimate autistic experience. i write plenty about that, many more elaborate than this, if you not familiar with this concept.

many people in this community experience times when cannot speak, sometimes because overwhelm, shutdown, dissociate, or anxiety (situational mutism), but do not struggle with act of speaking rest of time (some struggle with speech all the time but still can speak - more on that later). the community call “going nonverbal/nonspeaking,” or even “when i am nonverbal nonspeaking” (not talking about those nonverbal as child and verbal now older), after clinical term “nonverbal” (nonverbal autism) and term coined by apraxic nonspeaking autistics “nonspeaking.”

both of which talk about it as an “all the time” experience.

when i search nonverbal or nonspeaking because i want community too, want see people like me too, two category i see: 1) parents of nonverbal nonspeaking children, whom can’t relate to because age, who can’t write own experience because their age and developmental ability. and 2) overwhelming amount of speaking autistic talk about going nonverbal going nonspeaking.

and the very very few fully nonverbal nonspeaking voices. drowned out. cannot find anyone.

nonverbal used to be term to describe us, people who can’t speak or cannot functionally speak beyond few words. medical term, alright, so some of us don’t like. so some of us reject that and create term all of our own, called nonspeaking. created by nonspeaking autistics with severe apraxia and brain body disconnect, describe their own experience of able to think in words able to spell out words (with great dedication and work and support), just cannot do that with mouth. their term. they create.

and you take it? without knowing context? without reading anything by those same nonspeaking coiners?

when is last time you purposely seek out nonverbal nonspeaking voices? when is last time you accidentally came across us? can you name any nonverbal nonspeaking advocate that talk about their experiences? one? two? three? a BIPOC person, a (specifically) Black person? a Black woman? a trans person? a physically disabled person? a person not from western world?

same narrative over and over. “i can speak for nonverbal autistic i understand their experience because i am autistic i can’t talk sometimes” no you cannot. as someone who was able to speak when young who lose speech (”go nonverbal”) but now have no speech to lose because full time nonverbal. no the experience not the same. not comparable. you gain it back. i don’t. you can explain with mouth words what happen when you get out. i can’t, i only have AAC. countless nonverbal nonspeaking people without AAC or sign cannot, at all. you never experience daily small and big struggle of casually being nonverbal all the time.

your experience of lose speech unique from my nonverbal. but if you so insist to compare and equate, you only guest to my experience, my daily life.

“when i go nonverbal and no one understand so have to force to speak” i cannot force words out. know you don’t mean to say this, and not saying you at fault for this, but nevertheless accidental perpetuate and reinforce idea that anyone who don’t speak can just be forced to speak if try hard enough. but often not how it works. and this exact harmful rhetoric devoid and delays nonverbal nonspeaking people given access to AAC, because “need try to force words out first, AAC unnatural so last resort.”

this may be new concept for you. new concept to instagram, to tiktok. to other places. it may seem i only one with this problem, “i once saw a nonspeaking person’s account and they don’t have problem.”

yeah, because we are not monolith. some nonverbal nonspeaking people don’t care. some nonverbal nonspeaking people may even welcome “go nonverbal nonspeaking” or “when i am nonverbal nonspeaking.”

but don’t be fooled into believe i only one. have many nonverbal/nonspeaking and/or higher support needs friends on tumblr, who talk about this who have been saying this for years. *years*. years before i joined. i am not creator, i only bring message here, because many of us are too high support needs too disabled to do anything else. many of us only stay on our small corner of tumblr because it most peaceful, because at least some listen, because least hostile, because need to defend our experience against our own community the least. (but it happens less doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen, we still exhausted.) many of us only stay on our small corner of tumblr because that all we can handle, or because we not allowed or shouldn’t be on other social media because age or abilities or both.

i cannot handle conflict i do not do well and i shouldn’t be here. but if not me, who else? if i don’t do it, who else is going to?

some nonverbal nonspeaking people and parents of them may question, why you start debate about useless term when so many nonverbal nonspeaking people don’t even have access to communicate, real problems. to that i say i do those work too. and to that i say this is real problem too, because am autistic so online actually autistic community should also be my space too but it not. but it hostile. because am lonely because seeing yourself so crucial because don’t know anyone in person like me don’t have any friends in person like me, so i go online to find people like me and i cannot because no own term to search and what used to be term many people without similar experience insist they understand and can speak for me because they say we have similar experience. because this aloneness and the unique difficulty from being full time nonverbal and the struggle of future and the unique mistreatment from both outside but also inside community have drove me over edge many times and it is presence and knowing their presence of my tumblr nonverbal nonspeaking / higher support needs friends that gave me hope to stay. because so many people don’t listen and instead speak over. terminology only a symptom of problem. address roots, sure, but part of address roots is address symptoms.

‘well nonverbal people are never around” maybe it because you don’t make it welcome for us to join.

“fully nonverbal rare anyway” estimated 30% of us nonverbal nonspeaking, which this statistic probably only count those nonverbal since birth. even more are minimally speaking or without full functional communication, abilities limited to requests. sure, 30% still not majority. but significant amount never the less. speaking lower support needs autistic without intellectual disability not majority anyway too but your experience still deserve heard. ours too.

“see less nonverbal people because they don't have ability to communicate and use social media” yes, many nonverbal nonspeaking people not given access to communication (like AAC), forced to live in silence (because body language communication not enough alone!). silence from birth to teenage years, to adulthood, even until they die. some cannot understand social media or AAC because intellectual disability or cognitive ability. some not allowed on there because safety, some not allowed on because presumed incompetent and abused. all true. do you advocate for them too? or is it just talking point against me, pretend you care?

but not all of us, we exist. some of us thankfully supportive parents all along, parents given resources, us given resources, so we access to AAC since beginning. some of us became nonverbal later in life (which not same experience as those early in life, i acknowledge). some of us after years of forced silence, finally given access to AAC and can now communicate and advocate! some of us on social media - do you listen?

but you see none of us in your community anyway. maybe one token person.

you can go nonverbal. i cannot go verbal. see difference? you can come close to my experience, but i never will have (future) ability to go to yours.

it frustrate that have to specify am nonverbal **all the time** when write this, because if don’t do that will be assumed otherwise. frustrate that when in neurodivergent space stranger see me AAC they assume i can speak because they only know part time users (know part time users frustrate too because people assume they cannot speak and get surprised when they do. me being assumed automatic part time is not fault of part time AAC users.)

even been told am privileged to be nonverbal nonspeaking, privilege over speaking autistic who lose speech because in their mind it mean i get all support i need i get all recognition get all the representation. which. couldn’t be farther from truth.

all that. is fraction of reason i frustrate at “going nonverbal nonspeaking” and “when i was nonverbal nonspeaking.”

so many other words. lose speech. intermittent speech.

just want have own sub community where can find people similar experience.

#actually autistic #actuallyautistic #autism #nonverbal #nonspeaking #actually nonverbal #actually nonspeaking #nd #asd #loaf screm #long post

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jeonghantis · 11 months

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✧ — HEAVEN ANGEL (y.jh)

PAIRING ⇝ yoon jeonghan x reader.

SUMMARY ⇝

beautiful, everyone had called you. the compliment lost its charm on you, knowing fully well it’s paid only for the surface-level appearance you kept up and nothing else you had to offer. irritating, he had called you. you let him fuck you.

TAGS ⇝ uni!au, fratboy!jeonghan, fwb, smut, a dash of angst (oopsy!).

WARNINGS ⇝ language, fem!reader (she/her), houseparty scene (not exactly detailed), gossip, explicit sexual content (MINORS DNI!), bathroom (mirror) sex, unrequited crush (or is it?), reader has commitment issues, reader is kinda mean, mentions of p*ss and sh*t but not in a sexual manner, just for jokes.

WORD COUNT ⇝ 4.1k words.

note: funnily enough, i had two requests specifically for house party sex with yoon jeonghan. i lost the ask for them both (accidentally deleted while my laptop glitched). i am insane. and before anyone asks, yes there'll be a part two/prequel :) and also this is somewhat connected to my upcoming cheol fic. so i hope you stay tuned! proofread by the star of my life @cheolhub. sar fr put up with every version and my constant anxiety over every paragraph. i couldn't have done it without them. i love u so much. @szakias was also helpful in keeping me sane as i wrote this out 🙇 i love u so bad. loosely based on the song heaven angel by the driver era. don't think it'd go with the fic but you know :)

reblogs & comments are very much appreciated.

explicit tags under the cut.

EXPLICIT TAGS ⇝ semi-public setting (bathroom sex while there's a party), unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, mean dom!jeonghan, sub!reader, dumbification, teasing, petnames (angel), degradation (whore, bitch), dacryphilia, marking, briefest thigh-fucking, clit stimulation, cumming inside, squirting, light overstimulation, (a little) aftercare.

A strange rumor went around the campus. A rumor of a person whose beauty was so out of this world that it was terrifying.

Unreal. Everyone had said. You won’t be able to look her in the eyes!

But beyond that angelic beauty was a personality so sour, no one dared thought to approach her. Those that tried their luck had it beaten right out of them and they came to hate her to hide their broken hearts.

What a bitch, they had said. Does she think she’s all that?

Yoon Jeonghan, for one, thought they were being overly dramatic. It was a strange and interesting phenomenon how gossip can evolve to add in such theatrics. It was like living in one of those regency novels his sister owned which he had perused over on one particularly boring day. Had these people really had nothing better to do with their lives? Were they trying to live in a novel of their own? Jeonghan never understood them, neither cared for these kinds of things. He’d much rather form his opinions. He had better things to do than to dabble in such frivolity.

What a stuck-up, one would say. What better things could Jeonghan be doing that puts him above everyone else?

Oh, fucking the subject of the rumors of course.

“How irritating,” Jeonghan sighed, abruptly ceasing his thrusts inside you to harshly yank you back by your hair.

You yelp, a deer in the headlights, when your neck is forcibly craned back, made to look up at his looming figure. You looked pathetic from where you were pinned against the wall, exposed breasts pressed flush against the cool tiles and your mini skirt flipped upwards to reveal the swell of your bare ass flattened against his hip bone.

“I said to keep your voice down,” he tuts. “Do you want the whole house to hear you?”

“I’m s-sorry,” you stammer out, throat raw and chest heaving.

“Are you?” He mused with a raised brow, mocking and unbelieving.

You couldn’t meet his gaze, or at least you tried to. Jeonghan liked to make eye contact, he once told you, for he loved to see your sanity visibly ebb away from your eyes, leaving you a mindless, glassy-eyed whore. You had not reached that stage, not yet, not when some semblance of your being remained clear in your gaze, dilated pupils fearfully wavering back and forth between his simpering face and the bathroom door where a rather large, booming frat party laid beyond.

He cocked his head to the side and tightened his grip on your hair, forcing your eyes back on him. He leaned forward until he’s breathing your air, and all you could do is stare up at him pitifully with quivering lips. “Or…” he starts, his lips twisting cruelly. “Do you want them to hear you? Want them hear how good you’re being fucked right now?”

You remain silent, the lump on your throat bobbing as you swallow hard. But your walls tighten around him and Jeonghan couldn’t help the curve of his lips.

“You’re really weird, you know that?” Jeonghan sighed, releasing his hold on you. A lithe finger curls a lock behind your ear, the gesture jarringly affectionate from his prior cruelty, before his mouth moves to hover over it, his warm breath tickling. “You moan loudly when I tell you to shut up. You shut up when I ask you questions. Have I fucked you stupid already? Or have you always been stupid?”

You let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Is that all you know what to say?” Jeonghan laughs. “A renowned bitch, known to reject her admirers without so much of a second thought, now reduced into this pathetic bitch in heat. What would everyone else think, hm?”

His derogatory spats clamored down to your bones, making you shake with emotions that you couldn’t quite place with your hazed mind. At one point, with the last bit of pride you had left, you’re irritated, and it’s shown in the twitch of your eye and narrowed gaze. Then there’s embarrassment, shown by how your face warms and flushes. There was no denying how fucking dazed and desperate you had been, that much was true, and the demeaning tone of his voice did its job of filling you with shame. The twisted part of it all is that you enjoyed every minute of this ridicule thanks to pure, carnal desire. You couldn’t care less about what other people would say about you, what matters now is when the fuck would Jeonghan move his dick inside you.

But Jeonghan being Jeonghan, he wanted his answers. His last question was rhetoric. You knew. He knew. And yet he looks down at you with cruel expectancy masked in the sweetest, angelic smile that has fooled so many, and had once fooled you.

“I-I don’t care,” you say, deciding to be honest. “Who the fuck cares what they think?”

“Oh, but I’d like to know,” Jeonghan said. He hums for a moment, looking you over in consideration, before speaking again. “But you’re right. They don’t matter right now, do they?”

You release a breath you hadn’t known you were holding.

And Jeonghan watched, amused. He wasn’t done speaking. “But I’d at least like to know what you think.”

You blinked. “What?”

Before you could question him some more, Jeonghan pulls out of you, leaving your weeping cunt fluttering around nothing. You cry out, high and broken, from having pleasure ripped away with such cruelty. Jeonghan ignores it and his own throbbing problem as he goes to peel you off the wall with a rough tug on your arm. He has you by over the sink, has you staring at yourself through the vanity mirror. Jeonghan casts a smile at you through the reflection, his gaze weighted as he drinks in the sight of you as well.

Jeonghan had to admit, the rumors weren’t all baseless. You were stunningly beautiful, there was no denying that when anyone with functioning eyes could see it. The way you carried yourself tells him you’re well aware of it too. You held confidence with a raised chin, an allure with your own posture and stance even in this vulnerable position you were forced in, looking as disheveled as you are with tufts of your hair sticking out in every direction, framing your flushed face. Your blouse had been carefully unbuttoned despite how desperately urgent you both had been for each other the moment the bathroom door shut closed, but the rush was evident in how your bralette had been roughly tugged down enough for your perked breasts to spill over. Jeonghan had been anything but kind to your skin, having left angry red splotches blossoming all over your chest; you weren’t either on his, knowing if Jeonghan had craned his neck enough from behind you, they’d find similar markings on his throat, though considerably less in quantity.

Jeonghan also looked considerably less damning. He had not made moves to remove any of his upper clothing and so he remained presentable with his black varsity over a loose white shirt. Even his long hair had not looked loosened from where it’s tied up. But below, away from the mirror’s sight, his dark jeans had been unbuttoned and unzipped for his curved dick to spring out freely, for it now to rub over your ass teasingly.

“So?” Jeonghan asks. “What do you think of yourself?”

You glare at him through the mirror. “Fucking awful.”

“Of course you’d see it that way,” he laughs, resting his chin on your shoulder. “For me, I think this is the most beautiful you’ve ever been.”

It’s your turn to look unbelieving, but your pulse rouses.

Jeonghan grinned. “Ask me why.”

You reluctantly indulge him, “Why?”

“Because you finally look fucking awful,” Jeonghan said cheerfully. You turn to glower at him but stop when he lifts a hand to trace a line over your chest, mapping out the marks adorning you with a nimble finger. “And because I’m the reason for it.”

“A little vain, don’t you think?” You remark, albeit breathily, your face heated.

“I can be proud of my work,” he quipped, pressing his smile against your skin. He looks you over once more, taking in every detail down to the last freckle, and something deep in him thrums sweetly. “And I had a beautiful canvas to begin with.”

“How charming,” you sighed, derisive, as you threw your head back against his shoulder so you could look at him with batting lashes. “Can you fuck me now?”

“But I mean it,” Jeonghan murmured and relented, reaching around you so he could press a roughened finger over your swollen clit.

“Mean what?” You ask, but you’re barely listening, not when your focus is narrowed to the deft circles he’s making on your sweet nerves.

Jeonghan guides his length between your thighs, letting it glide languidly right under your weeping and throbbing cunt at a lazy pace. His lips are still curled, his eyes bright when he gazes down at you before he’s responding, “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

Sincerity was not something you’re used to when it came to the ever sarcastic Yoon Jeonghan, and yet here it was, bleeding into his tone in its purest form. Never in the entire three months of sleeping with him had he ever complimented the way he had just now, and if he had uttered any, it was quickly followed with ridicule or said with ridicule.

Good, he called you when you were obedient.

Cute, he called you when you were crying.

Beautiful. It was new. From him at least.

It was a temporary moment of clarity in your lust-addled head as you blink at him, making sense of what he had said, making sense of the warmth that starts to bloom throughout your chest. And temporary it remained as Jeonghan led his cockhead right back to your entrance, pushing himself in without so much of a warning, and the bare grasp you had on lucidity loosened.

You gasp out loudly, doubling over the bathroom counter as your walls tense and quiver painfully from the sudden breach, but still yield around him nonetheless. Jeonghan was quick to catch you, to force you right back up with his long fingers encircling your throat.

“Again?” Jeonghan barked out a laugh but it’s hoarse. “You really want everyone to hear you.”

“I c-can’t help it,” you whined, your head resting weakly against his shoulder, warm breath puffing over his marred skin.

Jeonghan looked unimpressed. “Well, help it.”

“Oh, fuck!” you cry out when he starts driving into you with no sense of leniency, your body thrown fully forward and voice shaking from the repeated impact that clatters your bones.

“You’re horrible at this,” he cackled. He grips at your hips this time, pulling you hard against him, balls slapping heavily against your ass. He's practically pulling and pushing your cunt onto his cock as if you weighed nothing, as if you were nothing but a cocksleeve for him to enjoy. Each decadent slide of his length in your heat draws out breathy grunts from him, his head drunk with pleasure.

You weren’t faring any better. Your head is thrown back to reveal flushed skin stained with tears that drip from closed eyes as you try desperately to hold yourself up with palms flat against the cold marble counter. There was nothing else for you to do but feel it, feel his cock stretch your pussy, its silken insides practically making way for him with each piston that has you crying out more in volume and pitch.

“Open your eyes.” His hot, staggered breath wafted over your ear. His thrusts ease its pace, slowing into something more languorous and teasing. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

You whine but your eyelids flutter open. Glassy, unfocused eyes find Jeonghan.

A devious smile splinters across his face.

There you are.

“Please,” you whimper, your hand reaching to paw at his nape.

“What is it, angel?” His tone is sweet but it rolls off his tongue sharply. “I n-need - ”

Jeonghan laughed cruelly. “I don’t think you’re in the position to demand something from me when you can’t even listen to my one demand.”

You grab at the ends of his hair and rock your hips back into him, fucking your cunt right on his dick in a faster, but struggling, rhythm.

“Hannie,” you mewl. “You feel too good. Please, please, just fuck me. I can’t help it, I just - Please? I’ll b-be good. Just please fuck me, Hannie.”

Jeonghan doesn’t respond right away to your pleas, allowing himself to revel in the broken desperation you display with an amused smile and delighted throbs made inside your velvety walls. Perhaps Jeonghan should be used to this sight now. He’s seen you in much messier and miserable states, ruined you far worse than he had now. And yet he’s plenty invigorated than he’s ever been, pure excitement searing his veins.

What would everyone else think, hm?

Jeonghan thought it was rhetoric. Jeonghan said it didn’t matter.

It wasn’t. It did.

“I don’t think you can be good,” he began as a hand inches forward between your legs, “But if you’re going to be loud, then at least use my name. That way, everyone will know who’s fucking you so good.”

“H-Hannie!” You mewl, oh so pitchy, as your frame jerks from the brush of the roughened pads of his fingers on your clit, pleasure flickering up your abdomen so wildly that you could not easily bear through it.

“There we go,” he crooned, pride gleaming in his eyes. Jeonghan was much too familiar with your body by now, so it’s easy when his hips brings back its pace, fucking at your insides at an angle so the length of him glides over your sweet nerves with each impact.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you sob out like a mantra, spreading your legs a little wider to accommodate his brutality, your channel tightening around his throbbing girth. “Ngh, Jeonghan, right there! Oh my god - !”

The nectar that leaks out of you coated his shaft with an amazingly significant amount that makes the slides so much easier and louder, the wet noises bouncing off the four walls and meshing with your own cries of his name like he wanted. It was almost enough to drown out the muffled music of the party that seemed many worlds away now.

Jeonghan soon enough joined in this sinful chorus, letting out panted moans of his own. Some were incoherent but when it wasn’t, it was mostly your name, just in case everyone couldn’t tell who was screaming his name like a wailing prayer. How he’s managed to keep himself restrained and sane for this long was a strong feat in itself. Your everything put him in a trance, every touch of you—nails, fingers, and obviously your tight cunt, was a little too much, it was dizzying.

Even at your seemingly waning state, your hips somehow finds itself moving back against him, undulating with the same force and rhythm. You’re driven by the tightness both in your chest and in your abdomen, white flashing across your vision the more you keep up your pace, your moan becoming more muddled as your thoughts were. And when balance fails you, having you bow back down and lean all your weight on your forearm, Jeonghan inclines with you, his chest pressed right against your back and you could feel his raging heartbeat that very well matched your own.

“How are you holding up, angel?” He chuckled and pressed his face against your neck, his breathing hard and warm on your skin, as his thrusts become more shallow. “Doing okay?”

“I-I’m close,” you whimper. “Please, Hannie - ”

“I’ve got you,” he whispered back as nails dig crescents on your waist, muscles flexing as the intensity of his strokes inside you extends once again and remains at the same tempo. He doesn’t know what came over him the next moment, his senses just completely overtaken and all he could do was be at awe at all this perfect bliss you’re bringing him, and only him. “You’re mine tonight,” he breathed. “I’m going to fucking ruin you for everyone, angel, you understand that? You’re mine.”

There it was again. The clarity. The warmth. It all happened in a single moment.

You turn your head and stare up at him. Jeonghan stared right back at you. A completely indecipherable expression confronts another.

Where it had been temporary then, it intensified now. Where there had been questions, suspicions took its place.

Then came fear.

Jeonghan catches a glimpse of it in your eyes and for the very first time, his stomach sank at the sight of it.

But his facade is flawless. It comes too naturally before he’s fully aware—a sweet curl of lip, the faintest crinkle at the corners of his eyes. He’s fooled too many. He could fool you again.

Jeonghan takes advantage of your moment of daze to toy once again with your clit, and is relieved at how immediate your body reacts.

“Ngh, J-Jeonghan!” You keen high as you reach a hand to cup over to where his fingers flicks and pinches at the delicate bud, pressing down on him for added pressure to alleviate your own self. Oh, how embarrassingly easy it was for your thoughts to be completely overwritten by your own lustful desires, but as you have learned, it always prevails, doesn’t it?

Your thighs seize up from the overwhelming pleasure crawling up your spine; while your rhythm falters from it, Jeonghan’s is relentless even when his own breathing turned ragged and his body strained from the effort. It all becomes so much so fast; the feverish heat spreads under your skin, tightening up coils in your abdomen, but your frame is trembling, as if a chill settled so deeply into your bones.

“Hannie, Hannie, I’m going to -”

“I know,” Jeonghan grunts as his face falls in the juncture of your neck, lips pressed right over your pulse point. He can feel your walls start to restrict around his twitching girth, and it did little to aid his own self-control. “Let go for me, angel. C’mon. Let me hear you. Let them hear you.”

And you do. With the most shrilling wail, you come, your warm release spilling onto his cock and, much to your surprise, squirting onto themselves, their clothes, and his hand.

“Holy shit,” Jeonghan marveled under his breath. If he could burn a memory into his brain, this would be fucking it. Just you shivering and quivering around his dick. Your back prettily arched back with tits hardened and perked. The fluids spurting all over yourself and him so shamelessly and so intensely until you're convulsing back down on your front from it all.

Watching this whole brilliance of you, just reminded Jeonghan of how lucky he truly was to have you like this, to be able to make you this fucked out with crossed eyes, pupils blown wide out of proportion. Hidden concerns were washed away by this single glance, replaced with nothing but gratitude, pride, and true bliss. And with all that and a poorly thrown out warning, he’s thrown over the edge. A moan is punched out of his gut as he’s releasing inside you with one last valiant thrust, his cum white and hot as it spurts and paints your walls.

And poor you having to tolerate this continued abuse of your insides that pushes you close into the sphere of overstimulation. You’re spent, fatigue already ebbing into your consciousness, but you stay still for him, letting him use you for all your worth until the last few twitches of cock, until the last few spews of his cum is fucked back into you.

For the next few moments, only a dulled bass fills the air as two heaving bodies try to steady themselves. When the remnants of carnality wane, Jeonghan finally pulls out of you, your channel left with nothing but their shared release dripping out of you, beading down your legs. There’s a crack of a smile thrown your way through the reflection just as you feel a light tap made over your cunt. You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the gesture. And to rock back into it.

“If I clean you up,” Jeonghan began, eyeing the puddle on the floor, “could you help me with the rest of your mess?”

Now you did roll your eyes. “Ever the gentleman.”

“Hey, I just thought I should ask. It’s a lot.”

Your face warmed up. “Forget it, I’ll clean myself up. You clean the floor.” You move to lift yourself up from the counter, but catch yourself as your muscles start to strain, limbs shaking.

Jeonghan raised a brow.

You winced. “Can you help me over to the toilet?”

“Need to piss it all out again?” He jests and takes a hold of your arm to gently pick you up.

You sneered. “That wasn’t piss, asshat.”

Jeonghan laughed. “I know it wasn’t. But it was hot as hell.”

“Shut the hell up.”

That only made him laugh again.

Then came a knock, a very aggressive one.

“Yoon Jeonghan, are you done fucking in there?” Said a male voice beyond the door, sounding just as irritated as his knock was.

“Ah, damn,” Jeonghan muttered quietly to himself, then raised his voice at the door, “There are other bathrooms, Cheol!”

Choi Seungcheol, you now recognized Jeonghan’s fellow frat brother, responded right away. “All occupied! Can you hurry your shit up?”

“No!” said Jeonghan, but he’s quick to guide you over next to the toilet with an arm now encircling your waist; you tell yourself this was just a helpful gesture, but there’s no helping how your skin heats up under his touch. From where you stand leaning against the wall, you watch him rush around the bathroom, first cleaning himself up and shoving his dick back in his jeans before he throws a clean towel down on the floor to soak up your mess.

“I’ll leave first,” Jeonghan explained as he sauntered back to you with soap and another fresh towel in hand, setting them down where it’s within your reach. “I’ll appease Cheol first and buy you some time to clean up.”

“Is he always so impatient?” You asked.

“Always,” he sighed, “but once I explain, he’ll understand. I don’t know why he’s fussier than usual though.”

“Maybe he needs to shit.”

“Shitting at a party? That’s disgusting of him.”

“He has no respect for the partygoers out there.”

You exchange grins with each other.

Then another round of knocking came around.

“In a minute!” Jeonghan called back, trying to sound calm but his face was scowling. He lowers his voice when he speaks to you again, “Are you sure you don’t want any help? Now I just want to make him wait.”

“Go,” you tell him and wave him off. “He sounds like he’s about to kick the door open. I’d rather not have that.”

Jeonghan huffed a laugh at that. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Jeonghan turned to leave. Your heart lurched from your chest.

“Jeonghan?” You call out before you could stop yourself.

He looked back. “Hm?”

“Do we…” You didn’t know what to say, how to phrase it. “Should we talk about it?”

It was miniscule, but you caught his wince. “Talk about what?”

“About what you said?”

“Angel, I said a lot of things.”

“Don’t play stupid with me. You said - ”

Another loud knock, quickly followed by Seungcheol yelling. “Jeonghan! Hurry up!”

Jeonghan let out another sigh, a mix of annoyance with a tinge of relief. “We’ll have to talk about it another time.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Jeonghan - ”

“We will talk about it,” he said firmly, his tone spoke of sincerity, but his face said otherwise. “Just not now. Not yet.”

You gave him a skeptical look.

He tried for a smile, perfectly saccharine. You saw right through it.

“Fine,” you relented.

Jeonghan gave you a grateful nod of his head and made a move to leave again. You watch again with the strangest restriction in your chest.

“Cheol, you have got to learn patience,” Jeonghan said once he cracked the door open.

“And you have got to learn to be quiet,” the disembodied voice of Seungcheol parried back. “I’m sure the people passing the hallway could hear you both.”

“Well, we were trying to get the whole house to hear us.” Jeonghan spared a quick glance your way and grinned. You wanted to punch his teeth in.

Seungcheol groaned. “Of course you fucking were.”

Jeonghan laughed and finally stepped out of the bathroom. “At least I’m getting my dick wet. You haven’t been with anyone since - Oh, I spoke too soon. Cheol, you sneaky son of a - ”

The door shut closed behind him, leaving you all alone, and you buried your face in your hands.

#seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #jeonghan fanfic #keir.rqst

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cassandraclare · 3 months

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*sighs a bit* Okay. Guys. I have been asked this question a lot, and answered it a lot. I don't know how to give a better answer — Dru & Ty&Kit share significance as main characters — so I guess I'll talk a little about comparison and structures.

First, all series have different structures. I don't think it's super useful or predictive to try to map an upcoming, unknown book series onto an existing series. In TLH the main character was Cordelia, everyone else was secondary to her, and people's roles and the significance of them altered from book to book. It was a big ensemble cast and they mostly stayed put in London especially in book 1.

TWP focuses on a smaller group of people. It also has a very different structure. In book one, Dru is not with Kit and Ty. They are in different places, both of which have their own stories that are significant to the plot. There is no way to see Place One without following Dru. There is no way to see Place Two without following Kit and Ty.

I know that TWP is a long way off. I know there are people who are very angry with me that there's such a gap, but there isn't anything currently I can do about that, or about the fact that I don't yet have the schedule for my upcoming books. That rests in the hands of several different publishers who must coordinate the release times and production schedules for four different series. I am not withholding any information about when these books come out. I simply don't know it yet.

I understand that TWP being a long way off makes for anxiety, and that those who are worried Kit and Ty will somehow be secondary are looking for tiny clues in microscopic details — micro-reading the of placement of the word "and" in my newsletter and such — that are meaningless, but I get that it all comes from anxiety. (FTR, those worried Dru will be secondary are equally anxious.)

I think there is only so much I can say. Because there's a big gap between TLH and TWP everything I do say or every image or hint about it is freighted with a weight of assumption it can't really support. Anxiety is always going to trump reassurance. And truly, at the end of the day, if you only care about Kit and Ty and find the idea of a Dru story tiresome, you will feel like they got shafted because when you absolutely hate a plotline, you will always feel like it's taking up way too much space. That's just how our minds work.

I've been doing this long enough that I know no book can survive a hostile reading. I know that Book Three of a trilogy is the one people hate until they don't. (When Clockwork Princess came out people hated it so much I considered quitting writing!) I know that it's wonderful to love a character but can also be a problem for people when I put out books that aren't about that particular character or dynamic. I know that for a lot of people, Sword Catcher and Ragpicker King are just tiresome things that have no business on my schedule because they're not Shadowhunter books. And I get it. But I also have to block it out, because I've been writing a long time, and I've gotten to a point where I know that I have to write the thing I want to be writing, because if I don't, if I sit down and try to force myself to write something I'm not feeling like writing at that time, I'll be making myself physically and mentally sick. And that's no good for anyone, really.

I suppose the positive thing is that, while this would not have been true five years ago, I am at the place where I want very much to be writing Wicked Powers. I missed these characters and am glad to be back with them. I consider this a story in which there are three main characters. And that is all I can say right now because it's all that I know.

(And this was much more of a general response to a lot of things than a specific response to this question, but I did feel like it was stuff that I needed to say. Creators are at the end of the day, just people. Sometimes we are powerless to reassure. Sometimes we are tired. Sometimes we are wrong. Sometimes we try things and they don't work. Sometimes we can't explain to you what our story is going to make you feel, because only reading it is going to tell you that. This may be one of those times.)

#the wicked powers

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balancethescales · 10 months

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thinking about the specific moments where the berzatto family falls in love with sydney (because of course they do, everyone does).

for richie, it takes the end of the beef and right up till the opening of the bear to happen. he is full of contempt and grief when he meets her and all he knows is that when he looks at her face he is afraid. he doesn’t like that feeling. richie is not a man who finds himself fearful a lot, but she is everything he is not and nothing that he is and he hates himself for it. if she is what it means to be passionate, then what is he? is he nothing but an empty shell of mikey, stuck on earth to shake his fist at passing clouds, because how dare they move and continue on like mikey was nothing to them, as if he wasn’t the very point that the earth revolved around? everyone is leaving him behind, and she is proudly leading the pack. it’s not right. but then— he gets it. he talks to garrett and jess and chef terry and he sees sydney in every corner of that restaurant. the fear slowly is replaced with respect as the week goes on and he realizes that just because she’s good doesn’t mean she’s out to get him. that’s the berzatto upbringing in him doing the talking, but it doesn’t have to, because shes a berzatto now, maybe not officially (not yet, but mark his words, she will be) but she is, and that’s not how she does things. so, he lets her lead them into the future to something good and different and better.

for sugar, it’s instant. she was born to a mother who is triggered by her very existence, and it has hurt her all her life. she is full of love and the one person she wants to give it to the most doesn’t want any part of it. she was born to give but is surrounded by those who are afraid to even take it, to reach out their hand and meet her in the middle. and if they cant take then they themselves have nothing to give, so she gets used to being the one who has to force feed her love down their throats, because if no one does, if no one shows them that they are worthy of good things, then they will crumble (“if i just talked to him more—” “no, nat—” “if i had just—” “it’s not your fault, honey. it’s never been.”). but when she meets sydney, it’s like looking into a mirror. she sees her bright eyes and soft smiles and careful but strong hands and instantly recognizes her for what she is: a giver. and sugars heart swells with even more love than she thought possible, because finally, she’s not alone— there is someone else there to slowly, albeit subconsciously, take care of her crumbling family, to show them that despite what their mother may have taught them, its okay to not be okay (she tries her best not to cry when syd asks her if shes okay, but she does. and syd doesnt grab her face or yell at her or call her stupid. she makes her a meal. and sugar cries some more).

for cicero, the love isn’t instant, and it’s not even entirely love. she is strong and she is assertive, but that also makes her naive and a very expensive risk. she makes him curious for what’s to come, intrigued by the way she doesn’t back down from carmy whose voice so often mimics the berzattos that came before him (“you’re better than this, kid.” “i don’t know what i am.” “whatever it is, it’s not this.”). she's self assured and knows her place in the establishment and is unafraid to let people know it. it’s a refreshing change of pace from mikey, who often resorted to intimidation to get his way, or carmy, who’s anxiety envelopes him and distracts him from what’s right there in front of him. but she is not them. she is focused and on track and is willing to put in the work to get what she wants. he doesn’t visit the bear often, only drops by once in a while to deliver bad news or to fulfill a favour or to just enjoy some good food, but when he does, she is always there, dedicated to ensuring that carmy and michaels, and now, her dream stays alive. she is good for his family, and he trusts her to keep the berzatto spirit alive.

for michelle, it’s quite simple. she always looked out for carmy, their little bear, so when she meets her it’s a family thanksgiving party at the bear and syd stumbles out of the kitchen, obviously frazzled and a little sweaty (“carmy, im not ready, i didn’t even change yet and the turk—” “don’t worry, tina will take care of it, you look great, they’ll love you, they just really wanted to meet you—”), but she’s smiling. she’s a little awkward when she introduces herself, and michelle finds herself endeared by her nervous ramble (“it’s, uh, really nice to meet you guys. sorry, i didn’t know that i was going to be pulled out of the kitchen so soon. uh, im sydney. yeah, i guess carmy already told you guys, huh? um. im sorry, how are you related to the family again? i mean, i dont want to offend but it’s just. uh. well, you guys are just very... normal?”) and she’ll laugh and look at stanley and the two of them will think to themselves, good job carmy, she’s a good one, before telling syd something dumb and nonsensical about a genetic mutation and richie interrupts to tell michelle it’s not a genetic mutation it’s called being boring and syd will laugh and michelle will too, truly happy that their little bear found someone normal, a breath of fresh air within the smoke of their family.

for donna, it’s weird. it’s tense. they don’t meet for a long time. they don’t meet at the bear when it first opens and not at the bear even when it has found it’s footing, but by chance. they are somewhere mundane (a grocery store, a park, or maybe just the street) and there is no other family member around when syd meets the berzatto matriarch. she only knows what donna looks like from photos at sugars house because carmys apartment is devoid of any actual sentiment (although that has begun to change since she made him get an actual dresser and he dedicated one of the drawers to her stuff). she calls out to her by her name, and donna turns around startled. she doesn’t recognize syd, of course, who introduces herself and informs her of who she is to the family. when donna smiles it’s not a real one, and syd knows this, but it doesn’t deter her. she tells donna that her kids love her (“even after everything, nat?” “she’s our mother. its all that we can do.”) and that her kids are great (“carmy, you are not broken.” “im a little broken.” “no, listen to me, the fact that you are still here, means something. its something.”) and that there will always be a table for her at the bear (“chef, someones calling in for a reso for 1 but we’re all full up… except for—“ “yo, dont finish that sentence. table 7 for ms. berzatto is an indefinite booking. is that understood?” “yes, chef”). donnas smile fades and her chest fills with anger but just as she’s about to explode in typical berzatto fashion syd interrupts her. she has faced the bear many a time before and has handled herself with grace and dignity everytime, so this is no different. she smiles brightly and thanks donna for listening to her and hopes she considers coming in, because she’d really like to cook for her. she looks like she needs a good meal. she deserves one. she turns and walks away. donnas stomach growls. that night, table 7 is occupied for the first time since the bear opened its doors.

and carmy? well, there isn’t an exact moment. its a culmination of awkward partnership (“i don’t want to be shitty.” “okay, then dont be.”) and flawless teamwork (“the menu needs—” “already on it, chef.”) and nights unwinding at the bar down the street (“of course you drink an old fashioned.” “what’s that supposed to mean?” “nothing, it’s just very… tortured-chef-from-the-slums-of-chicago of you”) and spontaneous phone calls just to hear the others voice (“why are you whispering?” “i… don’t know. my dads home. its a habit.” “you’re 27.” “and you’re white, you wouldn’t get it.”) till they’re just inseparable (“cousin, wheres carmy?” “with syd, duh.” “why'd i even ask?”). and then, sydney and carmen become something else. something tender and sweet and terrifying and beautiful all mixed together into… something. there’s no word for what they have. but it feels so right; to the guests who taste their food and recognize that the hands who put it together are full of love and care; to the staff at the bear who see the unspoken communication, the lingering touches, and their soft eyes that seem to always be on the other; to the berzatto family who notice that carmy looks a little brighter, and shakes a little less. yes, its love, but its so much more. it’s syd and carmy. it always has been, and always will be.

(“can i ask you something? something corny and lame and gross?” “always.” “when did you, like, know?” “know what?” “like, when did you know that you loved me? like, not as a chef or a friend, but as... y'know.” “that’s very middle school of you to ask.” “shut up, i did warn you.” “…” “so?” “its, uh, i don’t, i don’t know.” “well, that’s rude.” “no, i mean, i can’t say its one moment because... it was all of them. together. like, one moment you’re staging and then everything happened and, and, keeps happening but the next thing i knew you were there and you always were there and i just knew that i never wanted you to not be there.” “that’s…. really, really, disgusting, and frankly, a little unprofessional.” “oh, fuck off.” “no, like, i knew you were obsessed with me, but wow, that is a whole new other level.” “fuck you, get off of me, don’t touch me.” “no no no, please—” “i let you into my family—” “let me?” “into my restaurant—” “i think you mean OUR restaurant—” “only for you to humiliate me in my own bed? how dare you.” “…are you sulking?” “…” “…carmy?” “syd?” “me too.” “…heard, chef. now come back here.”)

(and it’s unspoken, but everyone knows that michael would’ve loved her too. i mean, she’s sydney fucking adamu, she conquered the bear. how could anyone not love her?)

#this is just a love letter to sydney adamu #because she is everything right with the world #she’s got that dawg (re: bear) in her #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #sydney adamu #ayo edibiri #carmen berzatto #jeremy allen white #richie jerimovich #natalie berzatto #cicero the bear #cousin michelle the bear #donna berzatto #michael berzatto #sydcarmy #sydney x carmy #carmy x sydney

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xoxoemynn · 4 months

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For OFMD Tumblr friends who want a S3 and are scared of Twitter

First, no judgment from me. I very much get it. I resisted Twitter for a long time, and even though I'm now a bit more comfortable on it, it's still not my Fandom Home. There are a TON of valid reasons not to be on Twitter, but if you REALLY want to keep OFMD visible right now and help its chances of returning for a third season, Twitter is the best place to do it. Like it or not, Twitter is still the best social media platform for raising awareness and for instant news updates.

Tumblr posts don't make headlines. Topics that have been trending on Twitter do. And if we want this show to come back, we need to make OFMD impossible to ignore.

By now you've probably seen just how close we came to a S3, and if you're like me, you are RAGING and donning your battle jacket. But I get it can be intimidating to get on Twitter for the first time, so I thought I'd address some common anxieties I see. I'll put below a cut because this got a bit long, but I promise it's a quick read.

I don't know what to say! Where do I even start? That's okay! You don't have to create your own tweets (although it's great if you do). Amplifying other people's posts is also important. Go ahead and like/retweet/reply to other people's posts. This may also help you get an idea of what you may like to say in your own tweets.

Hashtags...yes? Yes! Although don't use too many or you may get flagged as a bot. The biggest one that seems to be emerging is #SaveOFMD. Other popular ones are #RenewAsACrew, #RenewOurFlagMeansDeath, and of course, #OFMD and #OurFlagMeansDeath.

Should I just be tagging all the streaming services? Per @renewasacrew, no. It's counterproductive. You'll want to tag one streamer at a time and be specific. Below is an example of a tweet I made the other day -- use specific reasons why that that particular streamer may benefit from picking up OFMD.

I'm scared. People are mean. Yeah, people are mean. But I will say the vibes over at OFMD Twitter are currently the best I've ever seen them. People seem to have united for the greater good and are being overwhelmingly positive and just trying to do whatever we can to save the show. (That said, again, I already had a pretty curated feed, and was very liberal with blocking users/terms I didn't want to see, but I've been able to spend so much more time in the For You tab than I ever have without being jump scared by something.)

But I don't know anyone there! Wouldn't I just be shouting into the void? Not if you use the hashtags! Fans are being really good about following those and engaging with the tweets. Plus, [Stede voice], I'm your friend. I'm xoxoemynn over there as well, I'll follow you back and engage with any of your posts that I see. Plus, what's been REALLY lovely to see is that SO many lurkers have come out of lurkerdom to support the efforts, and they are being welcomed with open arms, so you will not be alone. Again, I am telling you, vibes? Best I've ever seen them.

I can't get sucked into another social media platform, I don't have the time. The beauty here is you don't need to spend a lot of time. I've been on Twitter more in the past week than I have in the entire year I've had an account, and I'm still only on for maybe an hour total the entire day? I open the app, I check a couple accounts, I engage with a handful of posts, and I close the app. It takes all of five minutes. It's an extremely small lift that can have a very big impact.

My bet is on Zaslav expecting us to be upset, and that there may be a day or two of outrage, but then we'd move on. I'm sure right now he's trying to convince everyone that this is a fluke, and that it'll blow over soon. Don't let him win. Keep OFMD in the news. Be loud (but polite) and make Max and other streamers take note of what a passionate, loyal fan base this show has. Make their stocks continue to drop. Make it clear this is NOT just a fluke, it is NOT business as usual. It's a BIG fuck up with lasting consequences.

Twitter, for all its sins, is the best place to do this.

Now let's get our damned show back.

#ofmd #our flag means death #renew as a crew #truly BELIEVE ME I get wanting to stay away!!#and if after we get picked up again you want to delete your account please go ahead and do that!#but this is a really easy and tangible way to show Max/other streamers #just how beloved the show is and how it would benefit them to save it #I love tumblr but it's not going to give us the kind of impact we want #it's for fans - not for external folks/key decision makers #ANYWAY I am by NO MEANS a twitter expert but I'm getting better #and I've seen some people be nervous about getting on the platform so I thought I'd try to help <3

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chuuyasheaven · 2 months

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RAAAAAAAAH idk if this counts as an ask but this specific scenario has been marinating in my mind for WEEKS and i think you might enjoy it :3c

to put it shortly ive been thinking of hot-headed reader who has trouble containing their temper (im not projecting whar do you mean) x chuuya (established relationship) that goes from angst to smut…. teehee

basically chuuya and reader begin arguing bc i hc that EVEN THOUGH CHUUYA IS EXTREMELY LOYAL AND DOTING TO THE ONES HE CARES ABOUT…. his temper often gets the best of him. Recently, chuuya had been very busy, and reader knew that, and continuously made an effort to help him in whatever ways they could, be it making dinner/lunch for him, offering to help with paperwork, etc. BUT thing is.. chuuya isn't really noticing this and treats them like a nuisance. He hasn't said anything outright insulting or upsetting, but he treats reader so differently, like he's silently blaming reader for his own temper and mood. He doesn't even call them by their nickname/petname anymore, everything feels so distant now.

So in an attempt to yk, NOT give up on their relationship, reader decides to confront chuuya about this in a calm manner, but he blindly lashes out and reader is NOT having ANY of it… cue a petty back and forth between him and reader, and reader gets out of the house to cool off and meanwhile chuuya finally comes to his senses. He tries to reason with reader when they come back, but they end up doing exactly what chuuya did to them, dismissing him and not accepting any form of half-assed apology. and so,,,,,, chuuya tries to make it up to reader,,,, if ikwym :3c

cue chuuya eating out reader like his life depends on it /jjj ((THIS IS SO LONG LMAO IM LITERALLY SOSORRY))

"You're not getting tired of me, are you?" // C. Nakahara

Summary. Recently, Chuuya has been kinda distant lately, mostly due to his work. This also resulted into you mostly overthinking— what if he isn't at the office all the time just like says? With this thought at the back of your mind, you tried to make an effort to be nice and caring as possible, only for Chuuya to decline the food you make him, denying any help you offer and barely spending time, which made the thoughts even more scary. When you can't take it anymore, you snap, at first he didn't get what your problem was until he thought about your earlier attempts. Now driven with guilt, Chuuya wants to assure you're the most important thing to him and makes up for his actions in the process.

Tags. Chuuya N. / afab! Reader, the summary pretty much already tells the story, angst to smut to fluff maybe, miscommunication, Reader prolly has anxiety, swearing, ooc! Chuuya, suspicions of cheating, Chuuya didn't notice at first but it's okay he'll make it up by licking pussy ^_^, might be cringe, short too idk, Reader might be KINDAAA based off me, petnames (baby, doll, darlin', sweetheart), oral sex (afab! receiving), praising, overstimulation? , p in v, who knows maybe i fucked up the ask and wrote smth else, for the first time ever porn WITH plot, might have a rushed end, might contain grammar errors, etc.

"Hey, Chuuya, wanna eat? I made your favorite!", you said with a nervous tone painted in your voice, which Chuuya didn't really notice. "No, baby, I can't. Sorry, maybe next time?", he answered without even exchanging looks with you, just doing his paperwork as if it was more important to him. It's been like this for several days already and you did nothing but trying to help Chuuya to make things easier, but he didn't budge. You slowly started to get annoyed and just walked away to eat by yourself, silently.

With all kind of negative thoughts which caused you to overthink. These "thoughts" didn't leave you alone since he's become more distant. What if he's losing interest? What if he's not always late in the office? Am I annoying him and a burden? After you finished eating, you just put his plate into the fridge and sat alone in your living room. Some while later, Chuuya came to see you for a few minutes before returning to work. He tired hugging you but you rejected it. Confused, he looks at you before asking. "What's wrong, doll?", did he seriously just ask you that? After pushing away for the— what? The millionth time for his work? At this innocent question you snapped, well, not really but you were beyond pissed.

When Chuuya told you that he was probably busy for the next days, you understood, at first. Knowing Chuuya, he could make some time for you in between, right? He was your really loyal, sweet and loving boyfriend, caring was he too, of course Chuuya should be able to make atleast a little time. And to his credit, he did, at first. He took breaks in which he spent time with you, cooking your food with you, and also other activities you guys normally do. But with time, Chuuya got more and more work and spent less and less time with you. You also understood at first, and trying to be a good girlfriend, you tried to take some work off his back by doing some paperwork with him, only to deny you. Don't get Chuuya wrong, he appreciated it, but he'd rather do it himself. You understood, leaving him be, but then he started to work late, staying behind in the office. That's when you started to overthink a little. You really didn't want to let you thoughts get to you, Chuuya is loyal and so loving he would never, right? Why was he even staying so late in the first place? Was it because you constantly asked him to help to the point he wanted to work in the office at work? These thoughts would slowly consume you later on, and instead of speaking with Chuuya about it, you kept it to yourself, you didn't want to annoy him anyways. It's been 3 days later and he didn't even say a single word to you, just work, work, work. Were you even Chuuya's top priority at this point? You just let him distance himself, in hope of him noticing your presence. All this did was make the situation worse, to the point where you cried yourself to sleep at night feeling unwanted. Did Chuuya finally notice? No, his head is still drowned in paperwork. "Chuuya, do you have time right now?" — "No. Go do something else, doll, I still have work left." His tone had some harshness to it, a hint of annoyance too. But maybe it was because of the stress because of work. "I could help him maybe.", you told yourself, you don't want him to overwork himself, has he even eaten today? "Well, maybe I could help with the paper—" — "You can't, so please go. I still have a lot left." — "But I could—" — "Just go, I'm busy. I can't really talk with you 'cause you're gonna distract me." What a reason, but you can't let him push you away now, can you? "Chuuya, please, I just wanna help you—" — "Just leave me the hell alone and do something else. Look, I love you for trying, I don't need your help the only this you're doing right now is distracting me." "If you say so." Was all you said before leaving his home office without saying another word.

That was the last time you talked to him during these days, but today, was the day you finally snapped at him for pushing you away all these days. And for what did he push you away? For trying to be nice and take some shit off his back? "What's wrong?! What's wrong is that you pushed me away for— what? A week and a half?!", you explained with anger behind your voice, which Chuuya wasn't familiar with. "Doll, I didn't push you away—", before he could speak you went on. "Stop with the bullshit. Whenever I tried helping with anything you always denied me! I can't do this anymore.", you said with a crack in your voice, now Chuuya slowly got pissed too, was it his fault for having an asshole of a boss?

"Do you think I want to do this? Who in the hell would participate in such work as a fucking joke?!", he said rather louder than you. "Your damn work seems to be more important that me, when was the last time you looked me in my face?", you stood up from the couch. "You wouldn't even know what to do!", "I could've if you took some fucking time to explain!", you shouted back, this is where Chuuya might have lost his temper. "Why the hell should I? You won't even understand when I tell you to leave! I'm sorry if the world doesn't fucking revolve around you, some people have other priorities?!", his voice got angrier and louder.

"Appearently I'm not your first priority, which is what I'm supposed to be?! I just wanted to spend time with you, but if I'm so fucking 'distracting' then I'll leave!", "Oh, so now you can take a damn hint?", he called after you tried to walk away. "What?", you stopped and turned around to face him. "Fuck you, then. I'm done, go do your work which is more important to me! All I was doing was to try—", "I don't give a fuck if you were "trying" shit! Just fucking don't because it won't matter anyway all you're being is annoying and desperate.", Chuuya shouted at you.

"So I'm annoying you now?", you said, your voice going quieter. "Yeah, with the way you were constantly up in my shit. You're not the most important thing right now, just stop trying to stress me more than you already are.", when he said that, you were facing the floor, fighting back the angry tears that were building up. "Alright, go do your work. I'll leave you to it.", you muttered, walking towards your door to take a walk. Chuuya just tsk'ed and went back to his room. It was quiet in the apartment, Chuuya was working on some papers left when he thought about your earlier argument. Wondering why you started it, he thought about what you said and slowly realized that what you said was true. He has gotten more distant, he was a little rude to you about leaving him alone and barely paid you and your attempts to help attention.

Knowing he probably fucked up in those past days, hurting your feelings and calling you 'annoying and desperate' probably caused the biggest guilt he ever experienced. Chuuya tried calling you but you hung up instantly. Okay, reasonable. The second time he called you took you're time to pick up. "Hey, baby—", "What do you want?", you asked coldly. "I thought you wanted to be left alone.", Chuuya could hear the pain in your voice. "Look, darling, you know I didn't mean what I said. It was the stress—", you really didn't wanna hear him right now, especially his excuses. "Sorry, Chuuya but I don't really wanna talk right now, since I'm annoying you anyways, talk to you later.", before getting another word out, you hung up. Chuuya just took deep sigh and thought of ways to apologize and make it up to you.

You first left at 6pm but returned at 8pm, you were a little tired after walking a lot so you looked forward to lay in your shared bed, alone again probably. You changed into Chuuya's shirt just like you have been these last several days for some missing closure, not forgetting your shorts before you sat on the bed to be on your phone. Not even five minutes later, the door creaked open, revealing Chuuya with a guilt driven face. "What?, you asked him once again. "Can we talk, please?", you just stared at him before nodding. He sat down on the bed, patting the space next to him, you moved to the edge of the bed to sit down next to him.

"I'm sorry,", Chuuya started. "I'm sorry for neglecting you these past days, didn't mean to make you feel like a burden.", "So you finally got the hint?", you ask sarcastically. "Baby, I mean it. I shouldn't have priotized my work over you and pushed you away during it. I never wanted to feel unimportant.", he held your hand now, gently caressing it. "The stress made me act this way probably and i shouldn't have lashed out at you. You forgive me?", your gaze was still as cold. Chuuya just pulled you close to him, finally after a week, this made you realize that you missed him more than you thought.

Chuuya stroked your back, kissing your forehead first, then your cheeks, and lastly, your lips— those lips he hasn't kissed for something which felt like an eternity. He just wanted to make it up to you one way or another. "Lay down, dollface, wanna make you feel good.", Chuuya said to you while he was holding your chin. "I haven't fully forgiven you yet, y'know that, right?", looking away while you said this, Chuuya just had to chuckle. "You're gonna when I'm done with you, trust me.", you rolled your eyes and just laid back like he wanted. Chuuya moved himself between your legs, removing the shorts and panties blocking his path and letting your legs hang over his shoulders.

"No need to tense up, pretty, jus' relax,", he whispered, pressing kisses to your thighs, never breaking eye contact. Those kisses started to get closer and closer to your cunt, which was waiting for his tongue. Once his mouth got to it's destination, Chuuya started his work. He ate you out like his life depended on it, but he made sure he won't make a big mess. You where quietly moaning, trying to not be heard by him. "Why so quiet, sweetheart?", he lightly teased, you just looked away again. "C'mon, look at me. I wanna make you feel good, remember that?", you looked back at him, your cheeks were slightly flushed and lust was filled in your eyes. Chuuya dived back in and kept his eye contact with you, looking at you while you try to bite down your moans. This only made him suck on your clit, which also broke your silence.

It didn't take long for you to finish with Chuuya looking at you while pleasuring you. As you came on his tongue, still breathing unsteady, Chuuya got up between your legs. "You're so perfect like this, darlin'.", he whispered before kissing you, you could loosely taste yourself on his tongue. While he was kissing you, he freed his cock out of his pants. Chuuya stopped kissing you for a second to insert his dick inside you. He stroked your folds with his tip to catch some slick and entered almost easily, as if your cunt was sucking him in. "Fuck, I forgot how good you felt around me. Forgive me for neglecting this perfect— oh, fuck!", he cut himself off by starting to thrust.

If you weren't loud earlier, you definitely were now. Chuuya was kissing you while being inside you, thrusting while his lips were on yours, whispering "I love you"s and apologies to you. "You're so good for me, fuck— I love you so much.", his thrusts got sloppier, meaning he was close. Your arms were thrown around his neck as you threw your head back, you could feel your upcoming orgasm. "Chuuya— shit, 'm so close, please don't stop!", "Wasn't planning on it, you feel way too good for that, baby.", as your cunt clenched down around him, he surprisingly moaned, instantly cumming inside you. He thrusted once more and that's when you came undone a second time.

"So. . did you change your mind, doll?"

@moth-of-mythos // @pretendtobesick04 // @alastors-deerest // @shi-nakano // @samutoru // @munnaitorei // @sjsnsidream // @shuwyyx // @skelitea // @xaviawinter // @cvidy // @cherrytreegrove // @skk-lover // @pe4rl-diver // @walking-simp

Sorry if ur tag didn't work 😕 also sorry if I fucked the storyline up

#chuuya'sheaven ♡#chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara smut #chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #bungou stray dogs chuuya #bungo stray dogs smut #bsd smut #chuuya angst

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