#oh wait no too many connections on that one too obvious

[theitgirlnetwork]

Earn It

Ch. 5: Pretend With Me

Note: Hello! Thank you for all of the support you've all shown this story. Thank you for the notes, reblogs, messages, and comments I love interacting with you all! We've got our first time skip so I hope it's not too confusing. Once again, I'll remind everyone that the characters are meant to be just as complex as those in the movie and so they will do...questionable things. But that's part of the fun...not being them! So I hope you all enjoy! <3

Warnings: Cheating (fr this time y'all :(), explicit sexual content (MDNI!!!!!), small mention of disordered eating, and some strong language.

Taglist: @spookystitchery@anehkael@fkaams@butterflyybabe@sun2flower @holierthancunt @silkenthusiasts @wolflover384 @liziihorta @summerssover @jackierose902109

Present Day (California) :

“They won’t answer any questions about that, don’t bother asking. Make sure there’s at least one close up on the ring and we only film from the angles we discussed, understand me?” Kiely takes a deep breath, brushes her hands down her dress, straightening out the wrinkles at the bottom and noting to herself that she needs to stop by Target today to get a new steamer. 

This job is a big opportunity, she can’t afford to fuck it up. Out of all the applicants they decided to give her a chance. She pushes through the dark front doors, fixing a potted flower plant hanging near the doorway before glancing back sternly at the camera crew and closing the door. 

Kiely does wish that her trial week wasn’t the same week as this interview. 

She presses her finger to her earpiece to turn on the speaker as her heels click across marble floors, her steps are long strides. “Crews’ in place, we need a clear house, just the family. They want this in one take. Let’s go.” 

The blonde woman raises a shaky fist to the Grenadil African Blackwood door, knocking softly once before steeling herself and knocking more assertively the second time.

“Yeah?”

Kiely turns the cold golden door knob and stops right at the threshold of the master bedroom, her back rod straight as she addresses the people in front of her.

“Mr. and Mrs. Donaldson? They’re ready for you.”

12 Years Earlier:

3:22 p.m.: So, that smoothie that you recommended? It’s fucking disgusting.

Heaven giggles at her phone before flipping it over so she can’t see the front of the screen, sliding down into a split to complete her stretches. She hums in satisfaction to herself as she stretches forward to reach her front foot. It’s peaceful like this.

She loves coming to the studio early. After the bullshit classes she takes to remain eligible for the dance program, she rushes here to just dance. No other dancers, no teacher or choreographer watching. Heaven can just be with the choreography. 

She has a habit of getting fixated on a piece and doing it over and over until she masters it. Then, she does it over and over until it’s not fun anymore. It’s her award winning strategy, to actually fall in love with the pieces she dances to. 

For some reason, she was struggling to become Juliet. She knows she has the technique for the dance, that much is obvious. But something about this role wasn’t connecting for her. She just feels like she can’t force herself to give the vibe of a 15 year old girl whose parents were absent enough to let her fall in love with a 20 year old loser.

Oh and Romeo can’t fucking dance.

Correction. Peter who is supposed to be Romeo can’t fucking dance. 

Heaven stands from her split, grabbing her phone with her to respond to the text waiting for her, not noticing the uncontrollable smile that had formed on her face.

3:30 p.m.: It’s not supposed to taste good, it’s supposed to be good for you, Arthur.

They had been texting back and forth a lot since the birthday party. Not many phone calls, but messages here and there. They range from checking in to arguing about the various media they both consume. It’s like an unspoken agreement they have not to talk about Tashi or Patrick. Anytime they did the jokes would halt and suddenly Heaven would feel a rock in her stomach, unable to text back. 

Her phone buzzes again and before she can open the little white envelope on the screen she hears several sets of footsteps behind her. Without turning around she rushes over to put her phone in her duffle bag and heads back to the middle of the room, settling into first position next to Peter and staring tensely forward as they wait for the rest of the cast and the premier maitre de ballet, Madame Fontaine. Along with the older woman is her assistant choreographer, Fallon, the only other person who will acknowledge that Peter can’t fucking dance.

“Afternoon, all.” Madame Fontaine offers the group a brief, tight smile as she stands before them, her flats clicking on the stage. “Romeo, Juliet. We will work on the pair of pas de deux performances after warm-up.”

“Madame.” Heaven nods, turning to go to the bar toward the back of the room. She can feel Peter behind her, looking at her. His cheap ass cologne fills her nostrils as he leans forward to murmur in her ear.

“Think you can actually act like you at least like me today?”

Heaven slips into third position, facing forward as she continues through her warm up, shrugging at his question. “I don’t need to like you, Juliet needs to be in love with Romeo. The dance will show that.”

“Maybe if we spent some time together-”

“I’m in a relationship.” she dismisses.

“Really?” He scoffs. Gripping the bar Peter stretches his leg into the air, watching Heaven do the same, he strains to get his kick as high as hers. “What does your boyfriend do?”

“He’s a professional tennis player. So is my girlfriend.”

Peter’s brows furrow as he watches the woman in front of him wrap up her warm ups, cracking her neck absently as he stares at her. “You…so…”

“Okay.” Heaven huffs, turning to the man, craning her neck and fixing him with a wary look as she stands facing him with her arms crossed. “Yes, I have a boyfriend, his name is Patrick. I also have a girlfriend, her name is Tashi and she is the girl you saw here before. Yes, they are also together, no we’re not looking for a fourth and if we were it would never be you. No, we aren’t open so don’t ask me out again. And Peter, even if I was single, I would literally fucking never fuck someone who can’t do a simple fucking lift.” With that she pushes past him to find Madame Fontaine stopping when she hears him over her shoulder.

“Well maybe if you weren’t so heavy I could lift you easier.”

Heaven doesn’t even bat an eyelash at the insult, instead just pursing her lips and getting into the position for the first pose of the “Love Dance”, the first pas de deux of the piece. As she goes through the movements on the stage no one would be able to tell that Peter had said what he said. 

She holds him close and twirls prettily. She leans into him with all of the trust of the world as he butchers his half of the piece, failing in the lift not because of her weight, she tells herself, but because his hand placement is wrong. 

Heaven thinks logically, like Tashi would tell her to. Other people have lifted her before. It’s not her. 

So she can swallow the lump in her throat until after rehearsal is over.

“Answer.” Heaven bites her lip as she drums her fingers against the steering wheel, her phone is balanced between her cheek and shoulder, vibrating against her ear as it rings. “Tashi, answer.”

Hi, this is Tashi Duncan, leave a message after the beep, thanks.

She shouldn’t have come. Tashi has two matches this week, Pepperdine and then Princeton, she doesn’t need to be distracted. She doesn’t have time to be distracted. That’s not what they do to each other, she knows Tashi needs to focus before a match just like Heaven needs to be distracted before a performance. 

But after rehearsal ended, her focus on the beautiful dance, and getting her body to move the way it needed to to tell the story faded. Then all she was left with was the sound of Peter’s voice mixing with her mother’s and the personal trainer she’d hired her when she was only 10. And suddenly she found herself speeding down the road in a silent car, driving 5 hours and 13 minutes to Stanford.

She told herself as she weaved through the cars that she just needed to get away. That this was okay because she was supposed to be heading down the next day anyway. That she was only here to see Tashi. 

“Fuck.” The girl huffs, pulling the phone away so hard one of her hoop earrings falls out of her ear, tumbling to the floor as she dials another number. Unlike Tashi, he actually picks up.

“Hey, babe.”

“Hi, baby, hi.” She sits up against the leather seat. “Are you, um, busy, or…”

“Uh, no, not-not really.” Patrick’s muffled voice through the phone settles her nerves a little. “What’s up?”

“Nothing I just wanted to talk to you or something-” Heaven hears laughter and the clattering of glass in the background. She can faintly make out the words to Candy Shop playing in whatever bar he was pretending not to be in. “You’re out.”

“Babe, I can talk, are you okay?”

“Mhm.”

“I hate that ‘mhm’, ‘hm’ shit you guys do just…Heaven, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I had, like, the most shitty rehearsal.” Heaven looks out at a couple of students stumbling drunkenly, shaking her head to herself as she sees a t-shirt with distinct letters spelling out “The Duncanator” on it. “The guy playing Romeo, he’s like a fucking idiot and he wants to fuck me-”

“Don’t most people?” 

“I’m not-” Heaven huffs out a breath, head dropping forward against the wheel in annoyance. This is who her boyfriend is. He makes jokes about serious things. He doesn’t take anything serious because it never fucking is. But what is she supposed to do? Berate him for trying to make her laugh when she’s upset. Get mad at him for perpetually being in a state of relaxation that she’s almost never in. Heaven doesn’t want to live in the land of not giving a fuck about anything, she isn’t built like that. “H-yeah. That’s funny.” she forces a giggle, scrubbing her hand angrily at the drops that managed to squeeze their way out of her eyes. 

“Good, you’re laughing, m’glad you’re feeling better.” 

“Yep, thank you, Patrick.”

“No problem, Hev, look I’m out right now but I’ll see you tomorrow right? You’re coming down to Stanford right?”

“Um, yeah.” She says staring out at the school buildings from the parking lot. “I’ll be there.”

After a couple more slurred jokes from her boyfriend who shouldn’t be drinking while on tour and a couple attempted calls to Tashi, Heaven climbs out of the car, deciding to just go to the girl’s building herself. 

She was determined not to go crawling to he who shall not be named. No. She would not see Art, because then he would give her that look. That look he does with his stupid monochromatic eyes that puppy dog look he gets when she’s happy, when she’s sad, when she’s anything. Like he’ll just do anything. It’s distracting and it makes her feel weird. 

And she’s taken. So, they’ll stick to texting, that’s safe. So, no, she won’t call him. Not to tell him about her shitty day. Not even to ask him where the actual hell Tashi’s building was. 

So instead she planned to wander aimlessly until she saw a building that looked familiar.

She walks along the cobblestone roads, squinting to find something that would remind her which direction she was supposed to be going in. 

“Heaven?”

The woman freezes at the voice behind her, cursing herself and whatever god that curated this situation as she slowly turns to see Art. “Arthur.”

Her breath catches as she gets a good look at him. He’s even hotter than she remembers, standing tall amongst a group of his teammates. His racket bag slung across his back, the strap tight against his chest that was currently filling out the dorky ass Stanford Men’s Tennis shirt that he was somehow making look like the sexiest outfit ever. 

This college tennis shit was really working for him.

But what brings the wide smile to her face that she couldn’t bite back, despite how much the logical part of her brain telling her she needed to, is those damn puppy dog eyes and the bright crooked smile he offers her.

Art takes a step forward, it almost looks like a reflex, but he pauses, smile dropping slightly as he tucks his hands into his tennis shorts, waiting to see what Heaven does.

And she can’t help it. Her legs move on their own, she can swear she didn’t consciously take three quick steps over to Art. And she didn’t take two more big ones when he met her the rest of the way, arms open as he dips low lifting her up and hugs her waist. And she definitely doesn’t wrap her legs around his waist when they meet. “Hi.” he says softly, swinging her back and forth.

“Hi!” she smiles back.

“What are you” he places her down so close to himself that their chests brush, craning his head down to look at her, brushing his thumbs over her hips through her t-shirt before releasing her fully. “What are you doing here?”

“Um, Pepperdine.” She tries to shrug easily, struggling to focus with him this close.

“You’re…uh, you’re a day early.” Art says, biting his lip a little, rocking on his feet.

“I know, I just had a rough day and I came to, um-”

“See Tashi.” He finishes for her, nodding his head. “You had a rough day?” He asks, eyes searching hers as he ignores the calls from his friends behind him, demanding that he introduce them to his hot friend. Art’s lips part as if he’s planning to say something before he snaps it shut, a beat passes before he trusts himself to speak again. “She’s gonna be on the court until late.”

“Fuck, yeah, she’s gonna be pissed, she hates when I throw her off before matches, she has this whole ritual situation, I just really couldn’t be at school right now.” Heaven groans, tossing her head back in frustration. 

“You could, you could come with me. I’m gonna go off campus for a little bit, go to Dave & Buster’s with my friends, you should come and blow off some steam, Hev.” 

Heaven glances around suddenly conscious that she drove all the way here in a haze like a maniac and despite telling herself she wasn’t here for Art she managed to be here, standing in front of him, notably not with Tashi. And yet, next thing she knew, she was kicking her feet, sitting on Art’s bed while he took a shower, so they could go to Dave & Buster’s.

Art knows that what he’s doing is not…healthy. It’s not good that he’s currently out with his best friend’s girlfriend (though one might still argue that Patrick had two and Art had none.) and he was enjoying the fact that everyone here thought she was his. 

It had started with his teammates. They’d seen the movie scene-esque display of Art lifting the girl in the air in excitement upon seeing her and suddenly, murmurs of the fact that Art doesn’t really entertain any of the girls who talk to him on campus seemed to make sense to them. They nudged him as they walked and wiggled their eyebrows as he held the door open for Heaven, guiding her with his hand on the small of her back. 

He’d tried correcting them. Originally. Sort’ve. 

Well, Matt asked if she was his girl and he’d responded with ‘c’mon man, what does it look like?’ 

Jesus, maybe there is a reason me and Patrick are friends.

But they were having so much fun, playing games and Heaven had been smiling so much. At him. And he didn’t have to share it. He was fucking happy.

“Let me get you something to eat, on me, Hev, come on.” Art says nudging her as he pulls their game card out of the skee ball machine. “Then we can talk about your shitty day.”

Heaven’s nose scrunches in a way that makes Art want to kiss it, her lips, whatever else she has to offer and she snatches the game card from him and takes a couple of steps back, a smirk on her face as she holds it away from him. “Or…we could play some more games.”

“I’m hungry.” Art cocks his head to the side, reaching for the card and laughing when she snatches it away. “And I want you to come eat with me. Please.”

“One more game.” 

“Come on, Art, the lady wants one more game.” One of his teammates, Kyle says smugly, tossing his arm around Heaven as he approaches from behind. 

Heaven’s lip curls in dismissal for a moment before her expression morphs into something more sinister. “Yeah,” she says sweetly, “M’just asking for one more.”

“Hev.” Art scoffs, holding his hand out again, embarrassed at how irritated he is by Kyle’s arm over her shoulders. 

“How about ping pong? If you win, we’ll go get some food and talk about whatever you want to talk about. And if,” her manicured hand reaches up and pats the one Kyle is dangling off her shoulder. “Kyle wins, I’ll play some games with him.”

Something feels so familiar about this moment. The innocent look on her face was only marred by the challenging raised eyebrow that Heaven couldn’t help but have. The look of expectation. It reminds Art of the day he’d lost to Patrick. The expression of ‘is that all?’ on her face. 

This is stupid. He thinks, working his jaw as he stares down at the girl. It’s dumb. 

“This is really fucking dumb.” he laughs, bouncing the ping pong ball on the table, rolling his eyes when Heaven shrugs, tilting her head as if to say, ‘go on’. “You’re seriously gonna go with him if I lose?”

“You’re not gonna fucking lose.” she murmurs under her breath. “We’re just having fun.”

“You’re trying to get out of talking about whatever you’re upset about, but m’not gonna forget-”

“Kiss for good luck?”

That has him whipping his head to her. He would be embarrassed if he could think about anything other than the offer she’d placed on the table. Like a dog to a bone immediately all of his focus is drawn down to her lips. “What?”

“You heard me, Arthur.” Heaven grabs his hand holding the paddle and brings it up between their faces, switching it’s position so that he’s holding the handle out to her and brings her glossed lips down to it, kissing it softly. “Kay, good luck!” she chirps, bouncing away from him to watch the game.

“That’s not fair!” Kyle calls from the opposite end of the table.

“Shut the fuck up, Kyle.”

As dumb as Art thinks this stupid little was, he absolutely demolishes Kyle. Like it wasn’t even fun, at least, not for Art’s opponent. The blond played like he was at the fucking US Open and didn’t let the guy get more than one point that he only got because Art briefly looked away, eyes following Heaven as she skirts off to use the bathroom. “I think I won that one, Kyle.” 

“Jesus, Donaldson, I wasn’t really going to get to go off with your girl. It’s fuckin’ ping pong at Dave & fuckin’ Buster’s.” His teammate rolls his eyes, tossing the paddle on the table before stalking off.

Art feels the heat rise to his face. All night while he’d been enjoying playing pretend he’d somehow avoided Heaven hearing what the guys were saying. He was quite literally ready to tuck his head to hide from the embarrassment when he felt an arm slide and loop with his. 

“Oh, what the fuck ever, he’s a sore loser, you were better, that’s why he’s not fucking ranked like you are.”

He wants to ask her how she knows that. Did Tashi tell her or did she look up the men’s teams rankings on her own. But instead he just guides her over to a table to collect his prize.

“Take the last one.”

“Mm no, can’t have it.” Heaven says, taking a sip of her water.

Art’s jaw clenches as he thinks about how the smallest attempt at a bullshit comeback from some dickhead had her questioning herself when Art thinks she’s the most beautiful thing in the world. “He’s an asshole.”

“I agree.”

“And he’s wrong, Hev.”

“Not completely.” she shrugs, swirling her straw in her glass. “Not statistically…for a ballerina.”

He crosses his arms, leaning back against the red booth seat. “Well, maybe male ballerina’s need to work out more then, I can pick you up just fine.” 

“Art.”

“I’ll come be Romeo. Put him out of a job and get to kiss you, that sounds like a pretty good deal.” 

Heaven laughs, shifting in her seat, lifting one leg into the chair, wrapping her arms around it and resting her cheek on her knee. “Thank you for letting me talk about it.”

“Yeah.” Art smiles, quietly taking a sip of his own water. 

“Now say what you wanted to say.” 

“I didn’t wanna say anything.”

“Yes you do,” Heaven scoffs, you’ve got that look on your face, you wanna say something just say it, Arthur.”

“I told you I hated that name and you haven’t stopped saying it since.” he snorts.

“It’s your given name.” She exclaims. Her big brown eyes stare up at him from across the table and he can feel his heart racing in his chest. “Okay. Art. You always let me talk to you. Talk to me.”

Art swallows deeply. This is the part where she runs. He gets real and honest about his feelings and she retreats to Tashi’s side or under Patrick’s arm. He knows this isn’t healthy to do to himself. But then he has the shittiest thought that crosses his mind. 

This time they’re not here.

He’d won the game today. There was no Patrick to beat in tennis, he wasn’t in a tug-o-war with Tashi. He wasn’t distracted by anything. He should at least try, shouldn’t he?

Like, how long could the situation between the 3 of them last anyway. Here she was again, upset, alone, and where were they. Tashi might have some years on him regarding Heaven but Art knows Patrick. He loves the guy, but he’s not good for them, either of them. This was just some fantasy for him, having two girlfriends, it wasn’t real for him. That’s why he’s here and she’s not. That’s why he was there when Heaven needed him when Patrick was out doing god knows what.

“Why didn’t you call me when you were upset? We text all of the time.” 

Heaven breathes out heavily as she nods her head, as if she’d been expecting this conversation. “I called my girlfriend. She was busy.”

“And then?”

“And then I called my boyfriend, Art. Your best friend, Patrick, remember him?” Art scoffs, shaking his head and Heaven sits up fully. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, what?” she persists.

“It’s just, what makes him your boyfriend? Because I just…Patrick Zweig isn’t really the boyfriend type, is all.” He shrugs.

“Maybe he changed for me and Tashi. We tend to have that effect on people.” Heaven jokes.

Art laughs humorously. “I know.”

“Oh.” 

“I just want you to be with someone that loves you.” He says in a tired tone. “That’s all I’ve been wanting for you-” He knows he should stop here. That placing seeds of doubt wasn’t the way he should win her. This was fucked up. She’s his friends’ girlfriend. His friend.

“And, you don’t think I have someone like that now?” She asks. That same brow raised as she crossed her arms, staring him down. It's the same bone chilling look she gave Tashi when she’d asked her about her audition dance. He can’t help but wilt a little under the stare, not backing down completely but suddenly questioning his decision to open this line of discussion.

“I…I just want you to be with someone who loves you, Heaven.” 

Her face softens and Art can breathe a little easier. Brown eyes wide as she takes him in, shifting in her seat back and forth as if she was really thinking. 

“You really mean that, don’t you?”

Art nods solemnly, hesitating slightly before standing, stepping out of the booth and walking over to Heaven’s side, holding his hand out to her. “I know what I’m about to say is so fucked up, and if you dont want to, I’ll listen. We’ll be friends, but…let me show you. I’ve, jesus this is embarrassing, I’ve been pretending you were mine all night. Pretend with me for tonight. Let me show you. Please.”

They're quiet the whole way back to campus. Heaven held Art’s hand, or maybe she let him hold hers…neither of them were quite sure. And they made their way back. And they both waited. They both were on the edge of their seats to see what happens next. They waited for Heaven to open her mouth, to ask him with indignity to direct her to Tashi’s dorm because, surely, the girl was back from the gym now. 

They waited for the wave of guilt to hit Art, for him to remember who she actually belongs to, to remember that she’s only his in his fantasies and send her on her way to wait for Patrick to get here tomorrow. But instead, when his phone vibrates in the cupholder of his car with a text from his best friend, he simply flips it over before Heaven can see. 

Once they’re safely inside his dorm Heaven is basically shaking next to him and he pauses, brushing his thumb against the smooth skin of her cheek. “Sweetheart, we don’t have to do anything.”

I’ll just die if we don’t, that’s all. He thinks.

Her eyes are shut tightly but she leans her face into his hand. “I’m scared. Meeting you guys was just supposed to be fun. This feels…” serious. “I’m…I’ve never felt like this for anyone other than her. So I was trying to avoid you.” she whispers, finally opening her eyes to look at him.

His heart almost hurts because he’s causing her stress. Almost. But this was the first time that she’s been clear that she’s feeling what he feels, and he physically cannot stand not kissing her. “I’m sorry.” He breathes, leaning down, brushing her lips with his own. “M’sorry.” 

The gap finally closes between the two of them and Art feels like he’s really breathing for the first time. Like, up until this point he’d been holding his breath his whole life, like he had a taste of real air when they’d kissed in that theater and now he was breathing. The only air worth breathing is Heaven’s.

Heaven’s head swims as Art lifts her up, laying her down onto his small bed, placing her gently as if she was fine china. It feels unfair. She didn’t know that something could feel this good. Being with Tashi and Patrick, it’s the first time she’s really felt something. Tashi was the first person Heaven ever loved. But it was so alarming how quickly Art was making all of that feel less all consuming. All she could think about was him. The only time her mine was this clear, this focused, was…when she danced.

Art places kisses along Heaven’s cheek, jaw and neck before making his way to her ear, groaning when he feels her hand in his hair. “Heaven, baby, let me touch you, please.” 

He pulls back to look at her to wait. He needed confirmation. He needed to know she was okay with it. That it would make her happy. “Okay.” she looks up at him from his pillow with a soft look, lifting her hand to his cheek and smiles gently as he kisses the palm of her hand.

“Yeah?” He asks desperately as he kisses his way up her arm.

Heaven brings Art’s hand to her lips, mirroring his action and kissing his palm before nodding. 

That’s all he needs.

He has to focus hard as he breathes in her sweet, flowery scent as he drags his lips along her torso before he reaches the edge of where her t-shirt meets her pants, nudging the fabric up with his nose to expose the skin of her stomach and kissing his way back down. He feels himself hardening in his own pants and wills himself to calm down so he doesn’t cum before he even gets to really touch her. He reaches his hand down, undoing her buttons on her pants and looks up to the ceiling briefly as he hears her kicking the fabric down her legs, counting backward from 20. 

“Kiss me again?” she asks sweetly. 

The question barely leaves her lips before he’s racing up to meld their lips back together, humming in relief when he gets to breathe from her again. When he finally lets her get some real air, she takes his dominant hand this time holding it in both of hers. “I love your hands, Art. They’re strong,” she kisses one finger, “and talented,” she kisses the next, “and part of you. Let you play some really good fucking tennis.” 

Art’s laugh turns into a moan when she places the two fingers into her warm mouth, staring up at him through her lashes. “Oh fuck, Heaven.”

She pops his fingers out of his mouth and she wraps her arm around his neck to hold his face close as Art slides hand down her body, holding the wet fingers away as he pauses briefly to squeeze her breast, drinking in the sound she makes. He would say he wants that noise as his ringtone, but then other people would hear it. Heaven. That’s what she is. His own personal heaven. 

As he pushes his fingers into her his own grunt frustrates him as he tries to memorize the gasp that falls from her plump lips and chases it with his own. He pushes his fingers in and out of her again and again to hear her voice pitch as she chants his name and gasps obscenities. His own moans and whines fall from his lips and his ears and cheeks turn red at how loud he is. 

His suitemates have to be used to the sound of him cumming with her name on his lips by now, especially considering his one attempt at not being in love with his best friend’s girlfriend that led him to stumble home from a bar just off campus with a sorority girl who promptly slapped the shit out of him and stormed out of the suite screeching when she’d given him head and he cried Heaven’s name when he came. To be fair, he’d gotten her off first…and apologized immensely. 

But this? They weren’t gonna wanna room with him next semester. Fuck them. 

He shivers as he feels her tugging his shirt over his head before pulling him back down to her, kissing him deeply again. “I’m gonna cum.” she whimpers, burying her face in his shoulder.

“Wait, wait, wait, please let me look at you.” Art pleads. Heaven’s head falls back against the pillow as her back arches slightly off of the mattress as she reaches her peak and Art nearly loses it from the sight. Not yet. 

“Shit.” Heaven breathes kissing his cheek and neck, running her hands through his blond hair. “Let…let me-”

“One more.” Art blurts, sitting up and looking down at her, smoothing his hand along her body in awe. “Let me have one more, please. Let me taste you, baby. You’re so pretty, Hev. You’re,” he kisses her lower stomach, blue-brown eyes on her as he bites her panties, pulling them down with his teeth. “You’re a goddess. I want…I love you.” 

“Art-” she gasps, pushing up onto her elbows to look down at him between her legs.

“One more, Heaven, please.” He pleads one more time, stopping just short of his destination to give her time. If…if she didn’t want it he wouldn’t do it. But he’d die. He would, he’d fucking die. 

But all she does is bite the collar of her shirt. And Art could fucking cry at how good she tastes. He kisses her center deeply, licking his way up her slit, sucking on her clit, holding her legs open as she squirms above him. Murmuring against her through his own moans. “I know, baby, I know.” He reaches his hand up tugging the fabric of the shirt to pull it from her mouth to stop her from muffling her cries. “Heaven, beautiful, talk to me, honey, please.”

“I-I’m, it feels so good.”

“Yeah? I wanna make you feel so good.” he whines against her thigh.

“Fuck, Art-” she turns her head to muffle into the pillow, squeaking when he gently tugs her down the bed away from it. 

“Please don’t fight it. Cum for me baby, please. One more, Heaven.” 

“Fuck.” She gasps.

This time when she cums Art can’t help it. Between her sounds filling his ears, her scent in his nose and her taste on his tongue, he was moaning out her name and cumming in his pants before he could stop it. He breathes heavily and sits on the bed because he’s genuinely worried he’s gonna pass out, the black spots in his vision apparently an after effect of coming harder than he’d ever had. “Fuck, Heaven. Heaven?” He breathes, confused when he can finally see again and the girl is no longer in his bed and his room door is open.

She comes padding back through his door and Art thinks if he wasn’t empty, he could cum again to the sight of her stumbling back on wobbly legs, wearing his shirt, holding a washcloth. “Least I could do since you tried to kill me by making me nut.” She sits next to him and he intakes a breath as she unbuttons his pants, coaxing him out of them and his boxers and taking the warm cloth and cleaning his dick. 

“Fuck, baby-” he whines, burying his face in her hair. “Okay-”

“You know you sound like you’re having sex when you play tennis? Or you’re playing tennis when you have sex. Since you played tennis first.” She smiles, smoothing his messy blond hair. 

“Fuck tennis, I wanna do that.” He jokes, lifting his head and reaching for a clean pair of boxers from his drawer before climbing into his bed and holding his arms out for her to climb into. 

“As a pro? That’s prostitution, handsome.” she smiles, laying herself between his arms and entangling their legs. 

“M’not chargin’ you.” he mumbles sleepily, kissing her head.

“Shut up, go to sleep.”

#oc #love #art donaldson #art donaldson challengers #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x tashi duncan #art donaldson x oc #art donaldson x patrick zweig #patrick zweig x oc #patrick zweig x tashi duncan #patrick zweig #tashi duncan x oc #tashi duncan x reader #earn it #challengers spoilers #challengers movie #challengers 2024

[alwaysxyou]

tomorrow's pap pics are going to be harry and james corden on horseback in london

#what else can we try #double decker bus #a bird scooter #a skateboard #oh wait no too many connections on that one too obvious #roller blades #a hot air balloon #hs

[foone]

I see a lot of people joking about the adhd thing of "I have a appointment/phone call at 3pm, guess I won't do anything all day!"

But no one seems to make the connection that it's a time blindness thing. One of the symptoms of ADHD is not having a good and accurate sense of time. And not doing stuff prior to an event with a hard deadline is an obvious coping mechanism for that.

Can I go to the store? It's 10am and the appointment is at 3pm. How long does going to the store take? An hour? Three hours? Five hours? I DON'T KNOW!

I get anxious trying to do things before appointments because I'm aware that I don't know how long those things take, and that if I think I do, I may be very wrong. Too often I've been like "hey I can walk to the corner store and grab a drink, that'll take like 15 minutes!" and then an hour later I get back and whoops my rice has burnt.

Plus there's also the fact that ADHD people know that motivation and focus is a two-edged sword.

Like, let's say you decide to play a video game. You've got time, you can pause/save whenever, so this should be a perfect fit to make good use of your waiting-time. So you start playing and WHOOPS you get really focused for some reason today (because people with ADHD do not get to pick when their brain decides to focus) and the next time you look at the clock it's 2:49 and you haven't showered or dressed and the appointment is 30 minutes away. Fuck. (you could have set an alarm, but now you're asking people with the forgetting-things-and-time-ignoring condition to remember it set alarms)

And with motivation, it can be almost worse. Instead of playing a game, you so something useful or creative. You clean your room or fix your plumbing or write a story or draw a picture. And suddenly it's great. Your brain is firing on all cylinders. You've got all the motivation you can ask for, and you are FLYING. the ideas are brilliant, your hands are nimble, you're getting stuff done you've been putting off for weeks or months. And then the alarm goes off. Time to go to your appointment. Fuck.

You drive there, your brain still full of ideas and plans. But by the time you get back, the motivation is gone. You may still have the ideas but you don't have the drive to write them down. You can't force yourself to do it. Your sink is still in pieces. Your room is half-cleaned, and you have to shove all the sorted clothes into one big bin just so you have somewhere to sleep. You've left things half finished again, in a cycle that has been repeating your whole fucking life. It seems sometimes that nothing ever gets finished.

So next time you don't even start. There's not time. You've been burnt too many times. Why add another half-completed project to your pile of shame?

My point is that people seem to be going "lol I can't do anything all day if I have an appointment at 3pm" like this is a quirky "oh I'm so scatterbrained!" weirdness they alone have, and not a major complication of a disabling mental illness.

(and that's not even getting into the secondary effects. If you know that having an appointment ruins your whole damn day, you're going to avoid them. Even when it's things like "going to that party" or "meeting your friends for a drink/game" or "going to a movie with that cute girl from your math class". Things you should enjoy. Things that'd help you be social. Things that make you feel human.)

#ADHD

[lizpottersworld]

౨ৎ lacy, oh lacy. (james potter x reader)

summary: not everyone gets their happy ending, and in this instance the beautiful, caring redhead falls behind the trail of her angelic best friend. i feel so so sorry for lily in this. i’m sorry to anybody who may relate<3.

pairings: james potter!bf x reader. lily evans!platonic x reader.

request here

For the first few years of attending Hogwarts it had always been james pining over lily whilst she rolled her eyes and ignored his romantic gestures. But now it was him hopelessly trailing behind y/n y/l/n like a love sick puppy. The two girls were similar in a way. They both were gryffindor and shared the same fieriness about them, they both loved and cared deeply and took a liking to school work. But they were also different.

Lily Evans was bubbly, outgoing, and always managed to befriend everyone no matter what house or belief. She loved everything nature and her beauty was undeniably entrancing to every boy or girl in Hogwarts. Her face was soothing and always had a bright smile on, showing off her freckles and light pink blush on her cheeks. Colourful floral patterns and summer dresses were what she was known for wearing. That was what made Lily herself.

Oh but, Y/n Y/l/n. She was everything Lily was and wasn’t. Her hair always flowed perfectly and bounced as she skipped down the paths of flower gardens, oh and how her eyes glowed and shimmered in the sun and the moon’s reflection. The sound of her laughter echoed through every corner of the place she was sat, blessing the ears of the ones around her. Ribbons adorned her gorgeous hair, always changing colour depending on the outfit she wore. Which always contributed to the same colour palette, pink, white and yellow. Her perfume, the one people loved so dearly, smelled like vanilla, white chocolate and salted caramel. It always lingered behind her trail everywhere she stepped.

James had always acknowledged y/n but after the many attempts of wooing Lily he confided in the person closet to her. It didn’t take long for him to fall for the girl. Lily knew she was forgotten the second her best friend fluttered her eyelashes his way, or laughed angelically at his jokes. At first she was thankful that the attention had moved on from her, but slowly over time she realised how much she longed for the boys antics again.

She waited too long. Now Lily had to watch the hopeless whispers of her best friend and crush — no, friend, as they told each other sweet nothings on their walk back to the dorms. How their hands connected the moment they were in reach, the beautiful bouquet or flowers that james out picked for her that made her gush about them for weeks, the giggles her best friend let out when james would make a stupid joke and especially the smiles that beamed on their faces after walking out of broom closets around school.

Lily found herself making up excuses to not hang out with y/n anymore, and she couldn’t help but feel guilty for it. She despised how her mind always lingered on the thought of her heartbroken best friend. She wasn’t supposed to wish that upon anyone, definitely not her best friend of all people. The obvious frown always settled onto y/n’s face as she forced a smile Lily’s way at her awkwardness towards her, she never knew what was wrong — Merlin, she didn’t do anything wrong in the first place. Y/n who was always smiling and living in the moment was dulling at her best friends sadness, anybody could notice how her eyes searched for Lily after a thought came to her mind. Just like how anybody could see how her shoulders fell and her eyes teared up when she couldn’t find Lily.

Call it desperation but Lily needed to tell James how she felt. Her body ached for the approval of the boy even if it mean’t hurting her best friend. But once again, that thought haunted her for hours on end. Jealousy pulled at her mind achingly, cutting out any other feelings she was trying to feel.

Lily should have known that James wouldn’t precipitate the feelings back to her. He had made it awfully clear how much he loved y/n. After begging for days James promised his girlfriend wouldn’t find out about this encounter, as much as she loved the boy, Lily still had the same measurable love for y/n. Every day after then the girl found herself comparing everything about herself to her best friend. From her delicate skin to the clothes she wore. She tried and tried.

Even the compliments like, “Lils, your so beautiful.” and “Im so jealous of you.” couldn’t stop the girl from still feeling envious. If anything y/n’s compliments felt like bullets on skin. She desperately tried to seek the same treatment that y/n got. And even when Lily was copying the little things she would do her blinded best friend would sit beside her and encourage her along the way. And thats what made it worse, her loving best friend was there the whole way whilst Lily begged and sobbed for her to be the one with James instead of her. Oh how she despised how much her mind worshipped y/n.

#marauders #marauders era #marauders imagine #marauders x reader #marauders x y/n #x reader #james potter #james potter imagine #james potter x reader #james potter sad imagine #james potter x you #james potter x lily evans angst #marauders angst #angst x reader #lily evans x reader #marauders x love triangle #lily evans x james potter x reader

[kangen-wanshi]

General ft. Jing Yuan

As one of the Seven Arbiter Generals of the Xianzhou Alliance, Jing Yuan and many others have never doubted his title as a General of the Cloud Knight. Although, when you've got your hand on a different General from a video game, it seems like he have his own opinion on them..

Tags: sfw with slightly suggestive ending

[ "Your sins weigh upon your soul!" ]

— Were the first line of words that the Cloud Knight General heard when he stepped into your shared home. He only blinked quietly. Fortunately, he's smart enough to recognize that the voice is played from a device's speaker - and well, it doesn't sound like a dialogue that you'd have if you were in a conversation with someone.. Perhaps you're watching a show?

His guess was proven to be somewhat correct when he watch you laying on the bed with your phone up in the air, seemingly engrossed with whatever is playing on the screen, as you barely acknowledge him coming home.

It was not until he took all of his gear off and plop himself next to you and pulled you to his chest that you finally realized that he's home.

"Jing Yuan!" You exclaimed with a smile and a kiss to his cheek as you further snuggled to his side, "I didn't know you're going home early."

"Well I've been home since yesterday," he captured your lips in a soft kiss before pulling away as his hand found its digits through your hair, "But you seem occupied."

"Oh, sorry about that," you grin bashfully, turning your attention back to your phone - specifically, to the game that are playing on it, bringing the screen to the General's attention, "The Trailblazers helped me connect to a game from a different world entirely and I've been hooked for days now! It's really cool, look —"

["In some legends, thunderbolts are a form of judgment from the gods above."]

That voice again. Jing Yuan raised an eyebrow as he squinted, and noticed the dark skinned character standing in the middle of the screen.

"And that is?"

"This is Cyno! He's quite a popular character recently, and he just got a rerun so I just had to get him!" Jing Yuan only hummed in acknowledgment - not understanding a single word you uttered, but he smiled and nodded nonetheless at your adorableness.

"He's also my new husband."

"What?"

His confusion and wide eyes earned you a giggle as you looked up to him, his calm doozy face now contorted with an offended and confused frown.

"Now now, let's not get hasty." He tried to pry your phone off of your hand, but you dodged, pulling it away from his reach, "You have me, don't you? Surely you won't favor a pixelated character over your beloved husband?"

"I don't know Jing Yuan, I might," you giggled further, pulling you gaze away from him back to Cyno on the screen, "Cyno is also a General you know - He's a General Mahamatra of the Akademiya and he swore to keep peace by delivering justice as he sees fit!"

"Right. But that General's strength is clearly no match to mine."

"If you're talking about your Lightning-Wielding Thunder-Clapping Spirit-Squashing Lord —" you gave a dramatic pause, "Then he also has that, too. Several, in fact! Probably. He's also aligned with the thunder element!"

At this point he just stares at you. Eyes narrowed, his lips turned into an obvious pout, as he waited for you to take back everything you said.

Unfortunately, in the end, you couldn't even hold yourself against the adorable look that the General only shows to you. Choosing to give up on your teasing, as you finally leaned back up to him to kiss his cheek.

"Sorry," you giggled, "Don't worry. You're the only General I'll ever be in love with."

Jing Yuan doesn't take this confession lightly. Before you can pull away from him, he picks up your phone and puts it away somewhere on the bedside, grabbing your empty hand within his own before pushing you back down onto the bed with him now looming above you.

"You know, perhaps I should remind you about that fact." He chuckled, pushing himself towards you, burying his face to the crook of your neck as he heaved a warm breath just behind your ear, "Just to make sure I'm the only General you'll ever think of."

Let's just say your game were left opened the entire night by accident.

#x reader #reader insert #les does writing #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x reader #star rail x reader

[amourdivine]

୨ ♡ ୧︰ WHOSE MIND ARE YOU ON?   ઉ   PAC.

Hello, angels! I hope you're doing well! Today, I bring to you one of my favorite reading topics. Let's get curious and see whose mind are you on, shall we? If you liked this reading, please consider tipping me at @ [email protected] via paypal! xo ♡

›    none of the images are mine unless stated otherwise. ›    personal readings are closed [as of february 2024] ›    navigation ♡ masterlist ♡ payhip

HOW TO CHOOSE YOUR PILE.  take a few deep breaths and look at each picture separately. see which one brings you to a feeling, a place or a memory. take your time and feel free to come back to it later!

amourdivine. 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

୨୧ PILE ONE

ace of pentacles ✧ the tower ✧ two of wands

Oh, this is someone whom you've had a huge falling out with. The aftermath has left both of you scarred, the foundation of your connection has crumbled, but both of you still check up on one another. For one half of this pile, this is purely platonic, like an ex friend or co-worker. For the other half, this was a friends with benefit situation... feelings made things even messier and the two of you got caught up in a thunderstorm.

Regardless, this person holds so much love and so much hatred inside their heart. They're so angry, but they miss you so much. They look at your old photos, reminisce on old memories. I just saw a best friend necklace in my mind's eye. They want to talk to you, but in that exact same second, they are reminded that things aren't that way anymore. It pains them, it ails them.

They likely write about you in the form of poetry, maybe journaling. They listen to songs about you, maybe even watch or read tarot readings in the hopes of finding closure. I genuinely don't think this person means any harm towards you, you're just both incredibly hurt by one another and I think distance has done you well so far. The waters need to calm down before the two of you can talk again, feelings need to be addressed and processed before you can cross paths.

This person misses you so badly, but I think the thought of this connection still brings up a lot of triggers to the surface. You may have some harsh aspects in synastry that create this tension or perhaps the two of you are fire signs. Sort of like a harsh Mars and Pluto aspect, but take it how it resonates. For your sake, it's important you address the feelings you have for this person (be it rage, hatred or love) so you don't feel trapped by this situation.

channeled messages and signs: best friend, betrayal, 10 of swords, "how could you?", "i stay up thinking of you", pinky promises, bikes, red sweater, october, insecure, competitive, jealous, leo, pick me, saturn, 333, 7, "you were mine".

୨୧ PILE TWO

the world ✧ the sun ✧ three of cups

Ah, this is someone who's away from you physically, but not emotionally. They love you so much. It's possible they have traveled for work or study temporarily, but they can't wait to come home to you, to be in your arms. It feels a mix of platonic and romantic energy, so please take it how it resonates. It could be someone who hasn't confessed their feelings to you verbally, but I think it's pretty darn obvious.

Either way, you make this person so happy, so giddy, so full of hope and love. You remind them that there are better times ahead and I think there's something about your smell, your embrace or smile that this person adores. You inspire them in so many ways, there's literally no one like you in this world. You're their favorite - and I think it's a mutual feeling here.

If this is someone whom you've met online, they're so eager to meet you. They probably daydream about it, they're taking active steps towards it too. They hope for ice cream-filled days under the sun and walking with you in the park. I feel very idyllic, it's wholesome and adventurous at the same time.

You bring a sense of courage and strength in this person, I think you're their "energy booster" in a way, either through your words or just who you are in general. You give this person a bit of a sweet, but fun adrenaline rush. They're so excited by the thought of you.

channeled messages and signs: cottagecore, wifey, strawberries, hot pink, neon green, astronomy, lauv, riding shotgun, roadtrip, plane flights, concert tickets, airports, "baby blue", kpop, "bestie", "bae".

୨୧ PILE THREE

ten of cups ✧ six of pentacles ✧ seven of swords (clarified by the two of cups)

This is someone well established and hardworking, someone who seems quite happy on the surface. They live in a shiny world, a perfect world. At least that's what it looks like on the surface.

This person is married and may have children already. You work with them, or under them. However happy or well-meaning this person may seem towards you, they are secretly very, very attracted to you. They want something more than professional or platonic with you, but they're keeping it under wraps right now.

I can't help but feel icky, like this person wants to have it all and that means going behind their partner's back in order to have you. I don't think they would ever come right and clean about this to anyone in this situation. You're like a shiny object this person wants to collect for themselves, but it's not like they'd care for you in any capacity. I Want it All by Arctic Monkeys started playing in my head. I think this is probably this person's view towards the world.

The Eight of Cups is at the back of the deck - be sure to not engage with this person emotionally, or any more than you already have. They're not honest about their feelings or intentions and it shows in the way they're sneaking around, while their partner's blissfully ignorant about it. Cheater, fuckboy energy!

channeled messages and signs: black and white, indie pop, millenial, 1989, 1990, power dynamics, chief, corporate nightmare, suits, fanfiction, beard, "don't look back", the fray, melancholia.

୨୧ PILE FOUR

five of cups ✧ seven of wands ✧ knight of swords

Whoever this is, I feel a more childish, impulsive energy. I don't know if this person is still in your life, but chances are they regret something they did or said to you. They're mourning your connection for the time being. I think you pulled away from them over a boundary they crossed or you stood your ground and they weren't expecting it. The friction here may not have been grand, but it was enough to make them feel guilty, regretful and even ashamed.

They're looking back on their actions and they're wishing they had a do-over. For some reason, I feel like this person is younger than you or just less experienced. They have a "younger sibling" feel to them, someone who's still a page. You were a source of stability and comfort to them, I think they still look up to you in some way, because I feel that they're ashamed over disappointing you.

However, as sad as it is, it doesn't seem like the end of your connection, for most of you. If this is a family member, like a cousin or sibling, chances are you'll both need to let this "marinate" and come back to talk about it later. They want to talk it out with you regardless, so it's not as definite as it may have seemed before. Even if you do have your guard up towards this person and vice-versa, give this connection a chance. I honestly feel like there's still a lot of love and admiration left between the two of you.

channeled messages and signs: "i wish you were here", victory, number 7, stubborn, "i'm the older one!", nitpicky, play-fighting, gossip, lullabies, bedtime stories, "i was trying to protect you", defensiveness, muddy waters, family portraits, petty, blocked.

୨୧ PILE FIVE

queen of pentacles ✧ the star ✧ five of pentacles ✧ three of wands

This is a motherly person. They could be an actual mother, an aunt, a grandma, or simply someone who embodies these nurturing traits, almost to the point of being a little overbearing. It can also be a "mom friend", someone who cares for others by giving them gifts. They're well established and might give unsolicited advice in regards to career, finances or relationships, but they mean well.

The reason why you're on this person's mind is because they're wishing you well. Maybe you suffered a loss recently, or you've been depressed and this person is hoping you can recover soon. I think you may have distanced yourself from others, but this person wants to help you. Still, they're waiting on you to reach out to them.

It's possible they've sent you flowers or "get well soon" texts and cards. I don't know why I get the feeling you were or are sick, struggling in some type of visible way and that's why they're worried. Maybe to you it doesn't seem like a big deal, but since this person is more experienced, they know how to deal with certain things and they really want to help you.

They might have offered you to stay at their place, or maybe have cooked you soup. I get very lovely, nurturing feelings from this pile. They wish you well and hope you can cheer up soon! For some, this is a person from your home country? You may be studying or working abroad and this mother figure wants you to take care of yourself. Aw!

channeled messages and signs: south korea, china, "i'm fine! i promise", subway, skip and loafer, exam season, 555, big city, hometown, missing the train, "i'm running late", overprotective, homemade meals, flu season, childhood movies, growing up, middle age crisis.

୨୧ PILE SIX

eight of cups ✧ eight of wands ✧ ten of swords ✧ the sun

This is such a back and forth energy, pile six. I won't lie, it feels difficult but exciting... but also really difficult? This person has been in and out of your life multiple times. You fight and then get back to each other. Then you fight again, going round and round.

It's interesting because The Sun is here, so you do make each other very happy, but you also make each other very miserable. I think this dynamic moved very fast unexpectedly. There's lots of attraction, but also lots of heartbreak. It could be a friends with benefits situation, maybe an ex you can't get over. I also heard "sneaky link" and the messages feel quite 18+, if you get what I mean.

You see, you enjoy this person's presence very much. Even when they tease you. And you've hurt each other many times, but I think you can't stop coming back to one another. There's this strange, unbreakable bond, but it's also a connection that triggers the both of you a lot and could've turned quite toxic.

This is the only pile where I had to pull more than four cards to channel the messages and I got the Queen of Wands. I think both of you are drawn to each other like moths to a flame, but there's some maturing needed if this connection is meant to progress. I didn't include advice in the previous pile, but the High Priestess came out for you as advice. So make sure to tune in to your emotions, your needs and how this person is engaging with you. Is this something truly fulfilling for you? How are you being called to step up your boundaries, your words and your actions? Connect to what you truly desire for yourself.

channeled messages and signs: "in my feels", drake songs, coquette aesthetic, water by tyla, pink hat, y2k, black girl magic, it girl, jennie kim, long hair, neon lights, freeze, nail art, "know your worth", boss, "cheer up buttercup", "you're so high maintenance", work crush, toxic by britney spears.

DISCLAIMER. Tarot is a divination tool, it’s not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. I don’t take responsibility for any choices made by you or others regarding my readings. Be mindful ♡

#pick a card #tarotblr #tarot reading #pick a card reading #tarot #pac reading #astrology #divination #pick a pile #tarot witch #witchblr #tarotcommunity #tarot readings #tarot readers #* #mine.

[holybibly]

Hi! This is my first time ever sending an ask to one of the many writers I follow here on tumblr, and honestly you're my favorite because you write so so well. Like oh my god, everything you write kills me in the best way possible. I really really enjoy reading anything you put out, and I can't wait to read more from you! I hope that you're doing well and that life is treating you well too! <3

Also I'd like to say I enjoy being your bunny, and honestly your wolf Matz is my favorite out of everything I've read on your blog so far.

Honestly just the idea of bunny reader getting fucked by them makes my brain melt. But also them getting a pretty collar for their bunny and using that to pull her closer or attaching a leash to it so that either of them could tug her whichever way they wanted, like ugh yes please.

Hi, my cute little bunny, what an honour it is for me to be the first writer to respond to your request.

I guess we're thinking the same thing, because I can definitely see Seonghwa putting a collar on you and puts a leash on you. God, he could make bunny crawl on all fours and wave that cute cotton tail from side to side like a snack to eager, hungry puppies.

I can also see him pulling on the leash as you ride him to give you a dirty kiss and stick his long tongue down your throat.

Seonghwa is a bit sadistic and vicious with puppies; he knows very well that wolf pups literally cum untouched and swell up their knots every time they see your tight pink pussy, and when those glossy, wet folds are stretched by a thick dick, it brings them to despair. So sometimes there are nights when Seonghwa wants to play, more with them than with you, and it's always so fucking dirty, wet, and slutty that you need to bathe in holy water afterwards.

"Aren't you the sweetest bunny in the world?" Seonghwa's velvety voice, full of evil, seductive darkness, purred from behind your shoulder. Wrapped in furs and luxury, like the most precious item in Seonghwa's vast collection of jewelry, you were in his, now your, bedroom. He was sitting on the edge of his king-size bed while you were sitting on his lap. Your pink, dripping pussy stretched out beautifully around his massive cock, and with every lazy squirm, his swollen, thick knot rubbed against your clit in the most delicious way. "Look at the way this tiny little pussy is sitting on my dick, like on a real throne. Tell your mommy, princess, do you love your throne?"

"Yes, мommy, I love my throne so much. It makes me sweet and full; I can feel you in my belly." Your small hand pressed weakly against the obvious bulge in the middle of your stomach. Seonghwa's dick really made you feel so full.

The sound of growling, moaning, and gasping filled the room at your words. It only got louder as your viscous mucus poured out of your hole, running down Seonghwa's cock, his heavy cum-filled balls, and dripping onto the floor, pooling on the black marble.

"What naughty puppies you are, behaving like bitches in the heat—impatient and moaning. Didn't I teach you to behave well when we are playing with the bunny?" Seonghwa's words were so humiliatingly condescending that even you became irritated and hot, even though they weren't directed at you but at the restless puppies that were kneeling in front of you.

They sat on their knees in a semi-circle in front of the bed, a little too close for your comfort, arranged in the order Seonghwa wanted them to be—naked and with hard, reddened cocks, the heads of their dicks proudly dripping pre-cum onto the floor. Around each of their necks was a thick collar connected to a chain, which Hongjoong held in his hand as he reclined lazily in a large leather chair by the fireplace with a glass of whisky in his hand. It was a kind of punishment for them. They behaved horribly and even dared to bite their little pet - Wooyoung's angry, swollen teeth marks are still visible on your thigh. Sometimes they forgot that you belonged to Seonghwa and were desperate to mate with you without him knowing or controlling them.

"They are Hwa's real bitches; they covered our floor with their semen; maybe they should clean it with their tongues? And no more games with my angel; you're going to fuck each other if you can't behave properly. No more of that sweet pussy". There is nothing but pure evil pleasure in Hongjoong's voice. God, this is going to make you leak even more. You begin to wriggle restlessly, your silken walls fluttering around the thick, hot girth of the alpha's cock.

"I-I didn't want to bite her, Alpha; she just smells so sweet, so delicious, and so fertile. I just wanted to fill her with my sperm." Wooyoung moans loudly, arching his back a little and sticking out his chubby butt, as if the very thought of it is getting his whole body ready for some hot and animal sex. His beautiful, bushy tail swishes behind him, and his crystal blue eyes darken with lust from underneath his messy, two-toned bangs. Wooyoung may be one of the most seductive wolves you've ever seen, but you belonged to Seonghwa, and Seonghwa was a god himself.

"Oh, really? Just fill the bunny with sperm, right, honey?" Seonghwa's plump lips pressed against the nape of your neck, just above the luxurious diamond collar that he had placed on you earlier. It was not enough for him to have the dark maroon bite stuck in your neck forever; he had to show it off in some way to all to whom you belonged. "Then I'll do it the right way, and maybe next time you'll have your teeth under control. In the meantime, all of you just sit there and watch me breed my princess, and don't you dare cum, needy sluts, or you won't be getting that pretty bunny cunt for a very long time."

"No, no, no, we'll be good." Mingi whined and scratched at the marble on the floor with his claws. His black, fluffy ears were flattened against his head in a pitiful way, and his beautiful, dark eyes were watering.

"Please, Alpha, we'll be good." Another sweet voice whimpered, and you glanced down through your lashes at the shiny, seductively muscular body of San.

Who the hell made a wolf look so good?

"I will think." And with those words, Seonghwa's hands grabbed your hips and literally threw you up and down on his dick. The room was filled with moans, growls, and piercing squeals from you and the wolf pups, interspersed with Hongjoong's enthusiastic, dark laughter and Seonghwa's velvety, deep moans.

#ateez smut #kpop smut #atz smut #ateez hard hours #ateez unholy hours #smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #park seonghwa smut #ateez scenarios #ateez au #ateez x reader #choi san smut #ateez imagines #san x reader #san smut #wooyoung smut #mingi smut #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader

[lazuliquetzal]

Comedy Is A Lie: I’m Going To Explain The Joke And It’s Going To Make Everything Worse

A buddy asked me why I cut a good joke from one of my fics and my immediate answer was “it killed the tension,” which, upon reflection, is a pathetic answer that is mostly inaccurate and does not even come CLOSE to how much thought I put into comedy in my writing. So I guess I’m going to write this out and excise the demon of over-explanation. 

Part The First: What Is Funny

The biggest thing I try and keep in mind when writing editing comedy (and anything, really, but especially for comedy) is rhythm. Lots of parts to rhythm! Most obvious is the word-to-word/sentence-to-sentence flow. Timing is a really important aspect of verbal comedy, which is why performance is a good medium to use. You get to control the delivery of every sentence and the spaces in between. But when you’re writing, you have significantly less control over how a reader will interpret the rhythm: all you can do is word your sentences as best as you can and give them rhythm cues via punctuation. (This is why I use so many em dashes and commas… I'm working on that…)

The other part to rhythm is on a more macro scale. There are jokes that will roll along with the flow of a story. For me, these are jokes that don't deviate from the context of the scene too much. They connect one subject to the next, or they build off of each other (a ‘yes, and’ sequence, for example). Alternatively, the joke is delivered in a really understated way. Like passing off something objectively batshit as status quo. Either way, they flow!

Then there are jokes that will halt a scene in its tracks. These are jokes that recontextualize a situation, or make a particularly large leap from the current topic. Or, you've been setting up for this punchline for a while and this joke is payoff. Or the joke is just really, really funny. These are the kind of jokes where you need to give the characters (or the reader) a beat to process them. Sometimes. We’ll get back to that.

Part the Second: How Is Funny

So the point of all that rhythm stuff is that comedy has a flow! If every line is a witty one-liner, none of the lines are witty one-liners! If every joke is a one-hit-KO, you have left your reader unconscious. Basically, if you are constantly being #Funny, you become repetitive and predictable, and that is the death of tension (and humor is a tension-driven element). 

One way to think of comedic pacing is setup (AKA building tension) and punchline (AKA payoff). It’s a balancing act: the more you build up tension, the more satisfying the payoff is going to be, but if you spend too long building up, you start dragging. You want the reader to think, “I can’t wait for the punchline!” and not, “oh my god, PLEASE get to the punchline already.” 

Fun way to make the tension last longer is to put all those flow-y connector jokes along the way. The reader’s anticipating the Joke, so by giving them little jokes, it meets their expectations in little ways so that they don’t get too antsy.

Hey, what’s tension, you ask?

Part The Third: Why Is Funny

When I read a book, there are two emotions that get me to turn the page:

I don’t know what’s going to happen next, and I’m curious!

I know X is going to happen, and I’m anticipating it!

That’s tension. (Something something semantics—I’ve never taken a creative writing class, I don’t have a vocabulary) 

You can have the calmest, low-stakes fluffiest fic in the world but as long as your readers are experiencing either curiosity or anticipation, Congrats! You have tension! I, however, like putting readers on fast-paced rollercoasters, so that’s the lens through which I’m tackling this section, which is: how do I use jokes in a story structure context? What purpose does a clown serve?

I mentioned earlier that some jokes are bricks to the face: they demand to be processed. Most of the time, I put high-impact jokes in places where I need the story to “reset” in a way: force a beat so the reader can process both the joke and the plot. That’s using humor to release tension. Literally. Laughter relieves stress.

But! You can also use those jokes to make the tension even worse! If you drop a bomb and immediately press forward, no processing allowed, you get stressful comedy. You want to laugh, but also a bunch of other stuff is happening and it feels kind of rude to laugh, so you get stressed. Sometimes humor can undermine a climactic moment, but if you use the right joke in the right spot you create shrimp emotions. If you’ve read DotF ch8 you know what I’m talking about.

Jokes also just make for good plot points? A lot of jokes are built on recontextualization. Everybody loves a good twist/reversal/surprise in a plot. Just make a joke and re-frame it, and bam! You’ve plotted! (Everything I’ve ever written started off as a joke.)

Wait, What Was The Question?

Why did I cut the joke? It was a waste of a brick to the face. It was too referential, it required the audience to know/agree with something completely unrelated to the story, it didn’t build upon what I already established. It ruined the rhythm.

I need to emphasize that, despite all my Thoughts on this, the way I appraise my jokes is 80% vibe-based. I probably could have kept the joke, and it would have been totally fine. But I would know. I would know that my intended rhythm is broken… it would haunt me until the end of time…

#this isn't even getting onto building a Comedic Cast or nailing down a Comedic Characterization or Comedy-As-Action or Varying Your Humor #I'M JUST SAYING #my writing tends toward stupid crack comedy but i take my crack comedy extremely seriously #the short rule is that if it's funny it's valid #the long rule is that the more effort you put into something the funnier it becomes #it's about PURPOSE #writing #lazuli writes #comedy #lazuli talks

[edgeray]

Arlecchino is not a person.

(Arlecchino x Reader Blurb) Content Warning: Death

There are many things that others have considered her. She is privvy to many labels that whispered voices have called her. Besides her obvious titles, she is called a dog of the Tsaritsa, a bloodthirsty monster, a demented psychopath, a weapon of bloodshed. Rarely is anything but her deadliness, cunningness, or madness--her ability to act as a loyal tool for her archon--ever considered. They are not wrong, she doesn't deny that much of her actions and purpose only lead to utter chaos or massacre. That's all she is to most nearly everyone, with the exclusion you, of course.

You never see her as such. You do not take her clawed hands and see them as a means to slaughter. Instead, you see them as another part of her to worship, another part of her to love, as you trace your lips over each and every knuckle, faint remnants of your love imprinted on them by the heat that wells underneath her skin from where your touch was last. And she is reminded you with that she is none of the things she is purposed to do, according to the Tsaritsa. With these hands, she can do more than just the service of her archon. With these hands, she can love you, hold you, revere you, the same way you do to her.

She is more than just a weapon in your eyes. In your eyes, you behold her as a lover--nothing more, nothing less. To you, she is simply the chanted name you sob into the clung sheets, or the name she signs under 'Your Love' in every letter sent to you. She is just Arlecchino, no Knave, Harbinger, or even the connection of the House of the Hearth to it. She is the one you wait for to arrive home and the one that bids her farewell when she leaves. The one you wrap your arms around, pulling her closer to soothe and comfort. The one you love so deeply and unfalteringly, no matter what she's done.

To everyone else, she is a tool.

To you, she is special. She is loved. Loved like a person with vulnerabilities and fears, with compassion and joy, loved like a human. And it is something so normal compared to the rest of her life that makes her wants to clutch this love to her chest forever, never wanting to let go.

To see her as anything but a machine wired for carnage is the only thing she asks of you.

Do you still love her as such? When her hands are dyed with your blood? When you cling onto her form, in the desperate animalistc way one would, begging to hold onto life for just a little longer? Do you still love her, when her claws are buried into your chest ripping out the heart that beats for her? Is it your profession of love to her that you're muttering with your remaining strength? Do you still love her, despite the tears running down your face?

Oh... what has she done?

Your chest has stopped rising and falling by the time the rush fades, her rationality and senses coming back to you. She doesn't know what has triggered it, but it is too late, because her beloved is gone, killed by the very hands you love to hold.

How foolish Arlecchino was, to be fooled into believing she was nothing but a mere person. How she was fooled into believing your love for her. How she was fooled into believing she was anything but a monster. She knows better now, regrettably, bitterly.

She wishes she never allowed you to convince her otherwise.

Arlecchino is not a person, and has never been. Only people deserve to be loved and in that moment that you died, she is no longer special, no longer loved, and no longer human.

---

A/N: How this series started is how this series ends.

This is the final part of my blurb series. If you guys thought that the finale for this was gonna be fluff. Sorry not sorry :).

Why did I decide to have Arlecchino kill Reader? 🤷‍♀️. I wanted the final blurb to be like anti-thesis to all the other titles (with the titles being "Arlecchino is a ___ person" and with this one being "Arlecchino is not a person.") I know I wanted to have this title but I didn't know how else to implement it besides this way.

If this is not to my usual quality of writing, sorry. I wrote this at 2 AM, even though this won't be posted until 10AM.

#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #edgeray.blog #edgeray.writes

[candycorncrave]

So. Let's talk about Penacony and birds.

-Spoilers for the 2.1 quest (and possibly some of 2.2 if my theories and findings are correct)

Hey all! I'm not too good at starting these essay type things, so we're just gonna dive right in. Disclaimer, these are all just theories complied from random (not very in depth) research I did, and my own thoughts, so take it all with a grain of salt. I just wanted to put this out here for funsies!

With that out of the way, let's dive in!

From very early on into the Penacony quests, there was something that just kept nagging at me. Robin's name, (mixed with the fact that shes a singer.) The family's crest being a Nightingale. Aventurine's design very clearly representing a peacock. Ratio's owls.

There were just too many bird references for this all to be a coincidence, so I decided to do some research on bird symbolism and meaning.

And here are some very interesting things I found!

Now a lot of this is quite clear cut, so I won't go into alot of explanation, but I do find the "rebirth" part quite interesting, especially since it is hinted during the 2.1 quest that she came back from "death".

Let's start with Robin, since she's one of the more obvious ones: "Above all, the robin red-breast is a symbol of spring song and good fortune. Additionally, it also symbolises passion, a new beginning, and re-birth. Therefore, if the bird flies into your life you will be blessed with happiness and joy. Subsequently, most of the symbolism of robins is centred on their spiritual meaning which is believed to be a symbol of divine sacrifice." In native American culture, Robins also have strong ties with family and "heart centered connections."

Next up are Owls: Now this one is also pretty obvious. Dr Ratio's design has very heavy Greek inspiration, and owls in Greek mythology are very clearly tied with Athena, knowledge, and wisdom.

The thing I found interesting about this was all over Sunday's mansion, there are owls decorating a lot of the furniture. Could this have been foreshadowing for his "betrayal" and assisting Sunday? I'm not sure. In my opinion, that seems like quite a length to go to mislead players- especially since it's such a niche detail that most people probably won't think twice about. Maybe it will have more meaning in 2.2. Guess we'll wait and see!

3rd, Another obvious one, Black Swan: They symbolize the opposite of what the white swan does, naturally, so death, danger, destruction, suffering, chaos, mystery, etc.

Even more than that though, "The black swan theory of events is a metaphor that describes an event that comes as a surprise, has a major effect, and is often inappropriately rationalized after the fact with the benefit of hindsight."

Another one I don't feel the need to dig that deep into. It all pretty much checks out with what we've seen of her character and the events of the story so far. Black Swan is a scary lady....

4th, Let's talk about Peacocks: Now we all know peacocks are commonly associated with general wealth, pride, and flamboyance. I thought that was all there really was to it being such a big contributor to Aventurine's design. But I decided to dig a little deeper and. Oh boy.

Peacocks can also symbolize both death, and life. Now at face value this is quite contrasting, but when you apply it to Adventurine's character- it makes quite a lot of sense. A single coin flip between life and death that keeps landing face up, and yet, it's a gamble he never hesitates to make. Moreso, peacocks can symbolize the freedom and liberation of the soul. (OUCH)

And Let's finish off the doozy. Nightingales: The symbol of the family and the bird constantly following Sunday around and watching everything the entire quest without a sound.

"Nightingales are symbolic of beauty, melody, creativity, purity, and the expression of oneself freely. They are also symbolic of darkness, mysticism, spiritual awakening, and renewal."

Now I found that the latter is often meant when you see a nightingale in your dreams. It is also mentioned if they do not speak back to you in a dream you will soon be betrayed.

,,,, How intriguing.

Also intriguing, Bloodhounds are very well known to be hunting dogs, and birds are prey for dogs.

And speaking of prey,,, are fish not considered birds' prey? And Sparkle, who we see fish around every time she shows up, was the "victim" in Black Swan's quest.

Anyways. I could be grasping at straws with that last part, but I do feel there is alot of stuff going on here with animal symbolism, especially more to dig into with Gallagher and Sparkle. It's all very intriguing

If you read all this here's a cookie! 🍪 Thanks for your time :) I hope you enjoyed the ramblings of a madman. Please feel free to add anything or comment your thoughts! I'd love to discuss

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai posting #honkai breakdown #honkai theory #hsr theories #hsr 2.1 #hsr 2.0 #black swan hsr #robin hsr #sunday hsr #aventurine #aventurine hsr #dr ratio #veritas ratio #rambles #all of this information was found of google top searches btw #i did NOT dig for these #like its actually insane #but anyways

[lunaekalenda]

The soft elevator music, the slow movement of it and being inside with no other than Satoru Gojo is irritating you to levels you didn't knew you could reach.

The fact that both your offices are on the last floor is an inconvenient in case you need to bring heavy stuff with you, as you do right now, and as Satoru was doing when he arrived to the elevator area at the exact time you did. You entered first and he followed you, pushing the cart with the new printer your boss gifted every single one of you, and the one you're taking to your office now as well. You raise a brow towards the white-haired man when he tries to enter after you.

"No, stay here. We're gonna make it stop. We're carrying too many heavy stuff."

"Come on, sweet, it's an elevator. It never failed before and Suguru and me definitely put inside here a bigger quantity of things. Make room for me."

He pushes his cart inside, putting it next to yours, as he rests his back on the elevator wall next to you. In fact, there's still a lot of space, but because the elevator is supposed to carry people, not industrial printers.

Adding both of you, the carts, the insane quantity of paper boxes you're carrying and the obvious machines, you're sure that the maximum weight is long forgotten. You sigh, praying for the elevator to arrive to the 14º floor safely, or else, you'll end strangling Satoru for his lack of security.

The numbers on the elevator screen move slowly, and the music keeps playing low. Satoru hums the song as he moves his feet to the rhythm against the floor. You're not really sure about your feelings towards him. Somehow, he makes you nervous with his shameless flirting and sudden pet-names, and still, he seems to have a talent to make you angry.

"Satoru, stop." you ask him. It's getting on your nerves, and you feel as if his taps on the floor were decreasing the elevator's speed.

"Hm?" he turns towards you, following your gaze until it connects with his shoe. "Oh, come on, it won't stop because of some innocent taps." This said, Satoru taps on the floor again. "See, nothing happ-"

The elevator makes a sudden movement followed by a power outage, leaving you with the emergency light on and possibly stopped in the middle of the tunnel of the elevator, somewhere between floors 7 and 8. You look at Satoru with rage, but he shows a soft smile towards you.

"You, idiot." you press your finger against his chest. "It's all your fault, if you waited your damn turn..."

"We wouldn't be bonding this way, darling." he interrupts you with a smile. "Maybe it's an opportunity of life to get to know each other better. You know, as a date." He raises his brows in a suggestive way and you sigh.

"Usually, people don't have dates when they're hanging from a tension wire 20-something meters above the floor, were there's a possibility of ending squashed." Satoru lets a clear laugh escape, as he looks at you.

"Nothing's gonna happen, Miss Worrying. They'll come and take us to our floor soon." The elevator gives another abrupt movement, and Satoru's hand takes your finger, the one you were still pointing against him, to bring your body close to his before crouching with you between his arms. The initial surprise makes way for shyness, finding you hugged by him as he checks the ceiling. "It doesn't seem dangerous, maybe they're already working on it..." he murmurs. Your gaze is fixed on his profile as he keeps looking up. Strong jaw and beautiful blue eyes checking the structure. You quickly take his arms away, without success. "Come here. It's my fault, so I'll protect you."

"I don't need you to protect me." You say, trying to put his body away, but he sighs.

"I know you don't need my protection. But you're scared, and it's normal." you look at him. His blue eyes are now fixed on you, his voice serious and his eyes full of truth. "After all, we're hanging 27 meters above the floor with an infimum possibility of surviving."

"Satoru!" you slap his chest quietly as he laughs softly, and even when you don't wanna admit it, his hug comforts you a little. His proximity makes the fear somehow sooth away, and you can feel his thumbs caressing your arms.

"You know, I have plenty of trust on the rescue team of the elevator company, but, in case they're not as skilled as I think, I would like to say something I've been wanting to tell you for a while." You look at him with terrified eyes. "Oh, sorry, sorry. No more mention of the situation we're currently in." He lets his back meet the wall again, long legs stretched forward and arms still around you, changing their position from your arms to your waist. "We've been working together for a time, side by side, cheek by jowl. I admire you as a professional, but I also admire you as a person." you're surprised by his words, expecting another lame joke from him. He seems serious when he speaks again. "I've... I've been trying to get you attention for a while now. In a more... romantic aspect." his pale skin blushes lightly under the mention of it. "Although, this elevator problem wasn't a plan for me to let you know that I like you, don't think I'll be jamming elevators every single time I need to say something important." He laughs softly, a nervous giggle. "It would be a problem if I had to stuck another one to ask for your hand in marriage."

The mention of marriage makes you fix your eyes on his. It's not a joke, it's not a relationship to see where it goes. He has plans of future, intentions of lasting long. He's serious about your liking, and he's serious about dating you. All the pet-names, all the tiny teases, all the times you've been irremediably sharing spaces with him weren't more than tries to let you know his feelings that catastrophically failed.

I've been trying to get your attention for a while.

You're in a loss of words while Satoru keeps his eyes on yours, sudden nervous by your silence.

"At least, I should have some points. I bet no other guy took you to a stuck elevator date." You're still sitting on his lap and his grip is secure on your waist, avoiding your body to move even an inch in case the elevator shakes again. You are about to answer him when the light returns and the doors open suddenly. Both of you realize your position, arms tangled and his body under yours. You're quick to stand up and you help Satoru to do so near you. Suguru, Kento, Utahime and the rest of your coworkers look at both of you with smiles of relief. Taking your carts and your printers, you listen to Masamichi's sermon on workplace safety before leaving for your own office. Once inside, you sigh, heart racing and hands trembling after the events. You weren't able to say anything back to Satoru, and you feel terribly wrong for that. He opened your heart for you and, still, you weren't able of giving him an answer.

Is love what you feel towards him? Longing to be by his side? It's true that he teases you and makes you kinda angry, but you always smile after chatting with him. He's a good coworker, and he's always alert on your needs, like the day you forgot your food and he went to get a extra sweet curry bowl for you, eating by your side at 5 p.m, when everyone should be working. Thinking better about it, you might reciprocate his feelings.

Feeling suddenly brave, you take your phone, and checking the messages app, you search his contact. Your fingers are quicker than your mind when your type.

"Wanna go grab dinner after work? I have something to tell you (without the risk of being squashed)"

His answer is quick, as if he had your chat open and he was waiting for it.

"Sure, sweet. Choose a place and i'll invite you (as a real, no-dangerous date, without hanging 27 meters above)"

His answer makes you smile as you book a table for two on his favorite sweet curry restaurant. On the room next to you, Satoru starts to work with the most luminous smile. None of you can't wait for dinner.

#is the ending okie? i feel it's meh fhjksdh #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo fluff #satoru fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaise fluff

[desert-rose24]

Worshipped (Just Imagine Series)

Welcome to my first series called Just Imagine! This is where you, the reader, can read your filthiest thoughts without having a character or person specified. It's all up to you and who you want to picture these fantasies with.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! THIS IS 18+ ONLY! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED IF YOU ARE NOT OVER 18!

WARNINGS: Pure Smut, Cursing, Dirty Talk, Nicknames (Baby, Sweetheart), Slight Begging, Orgasm, Slight Overstimulation, Fingering, Slight Nipple Play, Kissing, Slight Body Worship, Edging

These stories will not specify any reader ethnicity or race! However, these stories will differ. If you want to read one where you're fantasizing of a specific gender, I'll write those too! THIS STORY IS GENDER NEUTRAL GIVING!

I AM WRITING THESE MORE AIMED TOWARDS FEMALE, PLUS SIZED READERS RECEIVING! It's something I'm more experienced with writing, but I will take requests. Thank you for reading and enjoy!

I do not give any permission for my work to be copied, translated, modified, or reposted on any other site, app, or platform

Part Two

:)

Just imagine the way they make you feel. The way their voice goes through your ears, making you melt. Maybe it's the way they whisper or lean into you when they speak. Perhaps in some cases, it's not the way they say it, but what they actually say.

"You're so damn beautiful"

"You taste so good"

"Good girl"

"You're so fucking wet"

"Cum all over me, baby"

Ah yes, words are powerful, but you know what they always say. "Actions speak louder than words." And that's exactly what they have shown you. When they grab your plump thighs, sometimes slapping them just so they could see them jiggle. It's the moments when they tightly squeeze your full ass to make you moan. Or when they undo your bra just to watch your breasts pour out, taking in every jiggle and bounce. It drives them crazy.

And oh, how you love the way you're adored. No, more like worshipped. In more ways than just one. The way their lips connect with yours. The fresh, purple hickeys covering your chest and neck. When their tongue lingers on every part of your body. Your neck, chest, breasts, hips, thighs...pussy.

Ugh, don't even get them started on your pussy. All the movie nights, sitting on the couch with your legs resting on their lap, where they would see the growing patch of wetness seeping through your panties. It makes them want to reach out and give you the relief you so utterly deserve. You better not be thinking they don't notice...they do. How about when you're standing in the kitchen making a snack? They hug you from behind, planting kisses on your neck and you suddenly rub your thighs together with a low groan? It's so obvious, they want to laugh, but instead, they wait for the right moment. With enough teases, you're bound break aren't you?

Alas, the day is coming to an end. You still haven't said a word about your growing need that has yet to be taken care of. The question as to why you haven't said anything still lingers in your mind as you quietly lie down in bed, wearing a t-shirt and panties, not knowing the answer either. Maybe it'll pass, you think. That's what you always say. You take a deep sigh as you start closing your eyes as you try not to dwell on the ache you feel in your core. That is...until you feel them wrap their arm around your waist. They start rubbing your round, chubby tummy, making the ache grow even more. They knew. No matter how many times you (poorly) tried to hide it, it always came out to the light. You were so deep in thought that you didn't even notice their hand travelling down your torso, stopping just under the waistband of your panties. Turning your head towards them, they planted a soft kiss right on your lips, pushing their hand further down, reaching your core.

Turning onto your back, you spread your legs, giving them more access. They gently let their fingers linger on your puffy pussy lips, making you softly moan into their kiss. Your hips slightly jerk upwards, the throbbing sensation growing more impatient. You feel them slightly smile against your mouth as you feel their fingers spread your lips, the cool air against your wet cunt making you shiver with lust. You let you a heavy sigh as you feel their fingers gathering your slick, bringing it all the way up to your clit. They let their middle finger rest on your bundle of nerves, making your body jerk. You know what they want...and you're so happy and willing to give it to them.

"Please" you say, feeling your pussy throb as your hips slightly rock into their hand. They let out a light chuckle as they know how needy you are for some type of pleasure.

"Please what, sweetheart?" they respond, their finger pressing down on your bundle of nerves, yet not moving them in the way you want.

"Please...just t-touch me already" you whimpered, a slight frustration making its way into your voice.

Giving you a wet kiss, they start moving their fingers in a slow pace. A soft moan escaped your lips into their mouth. The throbbing was no longer aching. The feeling of their fingers rubbing against you was like no other. Not even you could make yourself feel like this. The slow pace was starting to make you excited, you want them to go faster. Your hips started circling on their hand, giving them a signal. And boy, did they understand that signal. They started moving their fingers faster, making your throw your head back against the pillow with a loud moan. Your back now arching, they saw this as an opportunity to lift up your t-shirt, making your breasts pop out. With their free hand, they grope your right breast, bringing their index finger and thumb to pinch your nipple. With another loud moan, you bite your lip.

"Yes..." you whisper, your eyes closing as your orgasm slowly makes its way to you. They looked at you, knowing you're near. They move their fingers even faster, making your body thrash. A series of "Fuck" and "Please" pour out of your mouth as you chase your orgasm. You're so close, you're right there, just a little more and...they stopped. With a loud, frustrated groan, you open your eyes, looking at them through the darkness of the room. They let out a chuckle before speaking.

"Oh baby~, it's not going to be that easy. Don't worry, I'll give you what you want" they said as they pressed their two middle fingers against your hole. They sure knew you a little too well to know that fingering was the best way to make you cum...hard. You whimpered as you, yet again, have excitement filling your core. They pushed their fingers into your hole, making you feel full. You swear, you could've cum right then and there. They started pumping their fingers as a satisfied moan escapes your lips. As if that wasn't enough, they started paying attention to your chest again. With a long lick on your nipple, you grab their head, balling up a fistful of hair.

"Such pretty tits for me" they said. If it wasn't so dark, they'd have all their attention on your boobs. They just adored how they jiggled and bounced with every pump their fingers make inside you. They started pumping faster, wanting you to finally reach the orgasm you long for. You deserve it after all. They reached that deep, spongy part inside you that makes you go crazy. The sound of loud moans and wet squelching of your pussy filled the room. Your cunt squeezing tighter and tighter around their fingers, letting them know you're right there. They started quickly rubbing your clit with their free hand, making your eyes fill with tears in pleasure.

"C'mon baby, cum for me. You're doing so good" they said, making you groan in response.

"Ahhhh~ fuck!" you scream, your back arching as the feeling of ecstasy hits you. The release you've been craving has finally come to you. White hot pleasure fills your core as they slow down their fingers, letting you ride out your orgasm. Your hips rock as it comes to an end, overstimulation now taking over. Your body twitches as you squeeze your thighs together, making them retract their fingers out of your panties. They bring their fingers up to their mouth and suck your juices off, moaning in delight. Usually, you would slap their hand out of their mouth and cover your face in embarrassment. You guess you could let it slide this one time, it's dark anyways. The night comes to a great end as you fall asleep in their arms, satisfaction and sleep taking over. Oh, wouldn't it be nice to have that kind of relief? To not only be loved, but to feel the pleasure that comes from love? That burning ache you feel deep down. It's not a want, but a need.

Too bad it's all just a fantasy...right?

#chubby reader #x plus size reader #plus size reader #x chubby reader #female reader #fem reader #x reader

[surgepricing]

RWBY Final Thoughts: Legacy

Very rarely would I ever consider a fandom on its own worth its own section of a Final Thoughts. ... [Basically,] they behave like a cult.

This is a repost of a post I made February 1st, 2024 on another site. At the time, it was the final post of a deep-dive recap of RWBY and the history of the show, its fandom, and its direction under Rooster Teeth.

I felt this out with some of my peers and the feedback I got in relation to posting in on Tumblr was that, well, why not? It was my main haunt to begin with, and I may as well, since Rooster Teeth is closing its doors. I'm posting this mainly as a shot in the dark just to see how it gets received. Only minor edits have been made; I'm sure there's some stuff in here that would make people mad, but that applies to pretty much anything someone could say about RWBY. Click the read more to get a glance at how my time with RWBY ultimately wrapped up.

Nine years ago today, Monty Oum died of an allergic reaction. Today is a day of mourning for fans of his work, including RWBY. There’s no sense in waiting. Let’s finish this and heal.

The Showrunners

Miles and Kerry often received the brunt of the attention when it came to RWBY. As the writers of the show, they bore responsibility for the largest chunk of why it eventually went into the shitter, and fan anger against them was almost certainly not helped by the damn near idolization heaped on them by fervent stans. They are, undoubtedly, the focal point of RWBY fans’ parasocial relationship with the show.

Of course, despite sharing about the same credits space as his partner in crime, Kerry tended to fly under the radar a lot, with it being Miles who received the brunt of the fandom’s fury with each successive volume. It’s not hard to see why; the character Miles voices has been consistently over-exposed and is in many ways an obvious creator’s pet, with denials as to this fact falling on deaf ears as Jaune’s screentime continued to balloon past its merits, whereas the character Kerry voices could just about wrangle an average of ten seconds of screentime every three years. Certainly Miles has been in trouble with fans more often than Kerry for the shit he’s said and done. The Ruby body pillow and the Tifa Lockhart ‘prostitute’ comments come to mind. Oh, and the slurs, that one too.

But perhaps the reason Miles gets so much more flak than Kerry is that Miles just...acts like an asshole a lot of the time. Even aside from above examples, Miles’ flaws come out in his writing: he’s petty, holds grudges, can’t take criticism, and just overall has way more power over the story than someone of his caliber should. He’s very poor at disguising his real feelings and often lets them bleed through, and when he actually decides to voice them on purpose, things get ugly—refer to that Cameo about Ironwood.

But as tempting as it is to treat Miles as an out-of-control cockwaffle on the rampage and Kerry as his sympathetic ineffectual shadow, the reality is that they’re co-writers, have been for ten years, and anything Miles gets away with doing is as much Kerry’s fault as his. If the Gray Haddock situation has taught us anything, it’s that more people tend to harbor blame than the one individual that makes an easy scapegoat.

Since aside from aforementioned n-word business, Miles and Kerry are almost never connected to moral outrage, this makes it easy for the stans to uphold them, since all they really have to defend them from is accusations that they didn’t honor Monty’s “vision” for the series. This is only easy because the stans are fucking insane, but that’s for later on down the page.

“Vision” is in quotes because that’s how fans treat it, we all know they don’t really care. Miles and Kerry’s vision matters, and we know that much because of Calixyn’s interview where she all but begged to be told that RWBY Volume 5 was as bad as it was because the “good bois” had control of the show ripped from them. Nope, turns out all that racism, homophobia, and plain shitty writing is all on them. But at least they’re nice!

(Miles was 26 when he said the n-word. I’m 26 now when writing this. I think it’s pretty fair to call him an asshole.)

But the truth is that it’s objectively stupid to think that the direction of RWBY hasn’t changed since Monty’s passing, it’s impossible for it not to have. There are more writers on board than before, and it’s been a long time since he was alive to contribute his thoughts. The real question is whether they at least tried, and I don’t think they did.

I mean, Shane Newville never names Miles and Kerry in his letter, but he does state several times that the choices made for the show were not only not what Monty wanted, but “straight up just shitting all over what Monty made”. I find it very difficult to believe that that insinuation, and all of the people caught up in the net it casts, wouldn’t include those two. And like it or not, but the person who is able to compile tons of clips and interviews over the years as some sort of seeming immutable proof that “CRWBY” are good-hearted people determined to preserve Monty’s vision, isn’t really looking at any more evidence than the person who’s come to the conclusion, based on what they’ve seen, that that the opposite is true. And they’re certainly looking at less evidence than the people who actually did work there around Monty, Miles, and Kerry. The facts sometimes boil down to ‘if it walks like a duck, talks like a duck, and is implicated in the walls of text like a duck, it’s probably a duck’, guys.

Even in the best case scenario in which the work of Monty Oum turns out to have been treated with dignity and respect (and was just really shittily written from the beginning), the fact remains that Miles and Kerry did not put a quality product into the world. I will be very surprised if either of them manages to get a lead writing position ever again, because once the popularity of RWBY fades, so too will the goodwill they’ve somehow amassed among its fans. RWBY, much like Twilight, is inevitably going to taint the people who were in charge of writing it.

But Miles and Kerry are just two dudes. What exactly is going to happen to those fervent fans who hung on their every word and insisted they were the embodiment of everything pure and innocent? What, exactly, is going to happen to the RWBY fandom that once seemed to be unavoidably populous on the internet?

F, N, D, M

We already went over “constructive criticism” and “worldbuilding”, so let’s add another eternally-misused word to our roster. You know, something I’ve occasionally thought about in terms of online spaces is that no one knows what a “comfort show” is. It’s one of those terms that became too popular almost as soon as it was introduced, to the point that it became meaningless, much like “hyperfixation” and “anxiety”. I see people refer to RWBY as their comfort show and I’m just like...how? A comfort show is supposed to be the show that always puts you in a good headspace, a show you rest easy with because you’ve always connected with it because the love was always there. A comfort show is a show that you watch in your down moments to feel better, not a show you think is just the greatest thing ever, the bees’ knees if you will.

A comfort show is not a show you force yourself to like, it is not a show you defend at all costs, and it is not a show you only still cling to because enjoying it once coincided with a time when you felt popular and among friends. Which, increasingly, seems to have been the case for RWBY fans.

RWBY’s Fandom

Very rarely would I ever consider a fandom on its own worth its own section of a Final Thoughts. But I’m doing it now because the RWBY fandom, though now it’s a shadow of its former self, is still a sizable chunk of people and took a lot longer to die than most other fandoms.

The RWBY fandom itself was an especially big and very online fandom, and the show produced an abnormally large amount of big name fans who continued to use their own influence to push its success and keep its momentum going. As I’ve said before, the RWBY fandom is something that Rooster Teeth were able to extract an excessive amount of praise out of for minimal effort; it simply seems to be in RWBY fans’ nature to speculate and theorize and over-analyze and fill in blanks, and to perceive good writing and animation where there is none. But you know how fandom operates—the bigger its size, the more infamous it becomes.

Long since famed for being especially toxic, those who are in the know consider RWBY fans a different breed, really. They create and move narratives at high speed and act quickly to correct any perceived dissent in the ranks, casting out anyone that feels disillusionment with the product and insisting everything is peachy even as their world crumbles around them. To RWBY fans, the “CRWBY” are always separate from the “problematic” aspects of Rooster Teeth (which is basically the whole company) and it doesn’t matter how many of its flaws get highlighted; RWBY and the people that make it are always great, innocent of any harm done and fantastic, and anyone that dislikes them is a villain—even if those people were at one point part of the “CRWBY” themselves. Loyalty is everything. In other words, they behave like a cult.Those acronyms themselves have always bothered me, and I’ve grown a strong distaste for them. Originally they were just a quirk of the show; a format for team names that spawned the name of the show and eventually stopped being relevant altogether. But RWBY fans are simply unable to not use them. It’s not “the fandom” it’s “the FNDM”. They’re not “the RWBY team” or “the RWBY crew”, they’re “CRWBY”. Even people that the fans are actively trying to shame, shun, and harass don’t get to simply be people—they’re “RWDE” and, when that became an actual community of sorts unto itself, was switched to “HTDM”, short for “hatedom”. They remind me distinctly of code words that get formed and passed around in cult movements, identifying terms that quickly provide boxes to put people in and make it easier to sort loyals from disloyals. “Hatedom” itself is another one of those terms that spread and got so prolific it really doesn’t carry any meaning anymore. Real hatedoms are surprisingly rare, guys. Every fandom that becomes big enough for its respective product to become criticized eventually comes to believe it has a ‘hatedom’ because how could someone dislike something I like so much? But a hatedom on its own arises out of very specific circumstances and environments, and causes the spread of hate for a product based on broad foundations that are often unfair to the product and which creates perceptions that spread faster than the work, so that the work is often talked about in mocking reference rather than true dissatisfaction.

RWBY doesn’t have a hatedom guys, it never did. The Last of Us doesn’t have a hatedom. Fairy Tail didn’t have a hatedom. Blackpink doesn’t have a hatedom. Even Marvel doesn’t have a hatedom.

Paris Hilton had a hatedom. Nickelback had a hatedom. Hell, the website Tumblr itself had a hatedom. These were examples of people or products whose reputations spread too quickly and eventually swallowed rational perception of them, with people who have never experienced them or their work dismissing them and the fans who enjoy it wholesale.

Using the term “hatedom” is understandably common because (and in spite of the fact that) it allows for easy miscategorization. A hatedom is not composed of people that were actually exposed to the work, found it lacking, and expressed that. A hatedom does not occur in the wake of a product that was so bad it pissed off its fans and caused them to walk. People don’t hate Metroid: Other M because they can’t stand the sight of a woman being vulnerable and don’t understand challenging drama, they hate it because it was poorly written, badly designed, and tarnished a long-running and highly cherished gaming heroine’s reputation. People didn’t hate Fifty Shades of Grey because of some bias against women expressing their sexual freedom, they hated it because it was a wildly misogynistic and badly-written piece of dreck. People didn’t hate The Last of Us Part II because of homophobia and transphobia, they hated it because it was a misery fest with a tired moral theme that posited itself far more deep and compelling than it really was. And just because people with the above disingenuous views also hated these things does not discount the fact that the works got the reputations they did because they were getting back the exact amount of love and respect that was put into them.

Similarly, RWBY doesn’t have a hatedom. It does, in fact, have an ex-fandom. Those are also things you don’t see very often, but when you do, they almost always follow the same pattern, don’t they? A work which got wildly popular very quickly, took really deep nosedives afterward, and became disowned by the people that had formerly propped it up.

But that’s a discussion for later. What exactly makes RWBY’s fandom so toxic and cult-like, and why and how did it get that way? I think it’s a combination of several key factors that were baked in and collided badly.

The first was ease of access. RWBY was sold extremely well early on, and shared enough similarities with both anime and video games that it attracted many curious people from those communities. Combine that with vibrant colors, an attractive visual aesthetic, an air of badassery, and good music, and it gained a lot of loyal fans quickly—fans of anime and video games, specifically, being fans that tend to get more attached than to other mediums and are known for spending a lot on merchandise. These, in turn, morphed into nostalgic elements ripe for misremembering—people often have difficulty acknowledging that something they once liked isn’t good anymore even on its own, and I think RWBY fans in particular put way too much energy into the show to be able to admit that all the time they spent defending it (and harassing people who criticized it) was for nothing.

That skyhigh rocket to fame early on, of course, was attached to the reputation of Monty Oum, and once he died, he quickly became a martyr, which galvanized the loyalty of the show’s most toxic fans even further. To this day, talking about Monty at all, even for the right reasons, is seen as disrespectful or distasteful unless you’re trying to use him to prop up Rooster Teeth, a double standard I’ve unfortunately run into even in seeming safe spaces. I think if we’re comparing RWBY fandom to a cult, then Monty Oum and his memory can be compared to a central mythologized figure, the center around which are formed all of the pretty lies the members of the cult will tell you. Monty’s name is irreplaceably tied to RWBY, and as such, in order to defend Monty, its fans have to defend RWBY...and you can see where this leads. Attempting to talk about the mistreatment Monty and his family went through at Rooster Teeth is seen as using his name as a weapon—nevermind the fact that Rooster Teeth and their fans regularly use his name as a shield.

Of course, what this really reveals is that many such people don’t care about Monty, who he was, or who he went through, but rather his name alone. In fact, I’ve straight up seen RWBY stans say that people shouldn’t “take Monty’s name in vain”, as if Monty were in fact some sacred religious figure. It’s both bizarre and harmful.

A third factor was popularity. For a lot of the same reasons as, say, Supernatural, the perception of RWBY skews much more broadly between fan and ex-fan than that of the typical over-hyped show. The truth of the matter is that when a show gets popular, or really any work gets popular, enjoying it becomes a cliquey sort of thing. People that enjoyed being into something well-respected and widely known and basically the hottest trend are far more prone to become overly attached, put too much of themselves into it, and remain unequipped to deal with the fact of that trend’s eventual passing, especially if it’s a fall into disgrace rather than a quiet entrance into history. You can still find certain especially toxic big names from the RWBY fandom active and posting, pretending not to notice that their audience has become smaller and smaller over the years. Let’s face facts here, a lot of people that enjoy being part of the “in” crowd never manage to figure out how to accept losses and will do anything to try and regain lost popularity, or fool themselves into thinking they’re still on top of the world.

But we can reason and explain all day. Another truth of the matter is that it shouldn’t be other people’s problem that fans can’t accept reality and adjust, and that the RWBY fandom quite honestly deserves its reputation as abysmally toxic. The way terminal fans of the show have treated anyone who dissents, most prominently Shane Newville and other ex-employees, let alone other ex-fans of the show, is quite frankly disgusting. RWBY stans are difficult to look at in all of their bewildering, teeth-gnashing toxicity and forgive...so I’m not going to. People that still insist there’s nothing wrong with this show or the company making it are, as far as I’m concerned, beyond help, and are part of the problem. Many an ex-employee certainly thinks so.

In a lot of ways, you could call the fandom one of the driving forces of the show’s failure, mostly because they had an abnormally large amount of influence over the show. Pleasing the fans has always been a major goal of the RWBY team (unless you like characters Miles Luna doesn’t, I guess), but it’s almost disturbing how the Rooster Teeth strategy has been to lead them along and bat their eyelashes at every turn and how the fandom laps it up.

Of course, Rooster Teeth feeds the parasocial engine by engaging with the fans as equals, and I was given a disturbing reminder of how many of the people who worked on the show—the ones who aren’t pissed and digging themselves out of trauma ditches—behave exactly as the fans do, tweeting twenty times a day about their favorite ships and memes. By creating the perception that RWBY’s team is just like the RWBY fanbase and wants the same things they want, they tap that line of excess energy that’s kept this fandom going so long despite how far it’s fallen. It’s that “hey! my friend said my ship is going to be canon and he works on the show” feeling.

Of course, a probable reason as to why so many employees who worked on RWBY behave the way RWBY fans do is because a lot of them started out that way. As in, student hires. This has long been an open secret of Rooster Teeth’s M.O. for a while now, hiring people who look up to them and engage heavily with their content. Many an ex-animator has lambasted this tactic because it’s insidious, and purposely designed to make the incoming staff feel honored and indebted and excited so they won’t notice how they’re being fucked over. Arryn Troche, who made the ‘gays greenlighting volume 10’ tweet, rings up as a particularly eerie example considering they have the same rather-uncommon and unconventionally-spelled name as the voice actor for a ship they’re obviously very attached to. A quick search reveals them to have been a longtime fan and cosplayer for the show before being signed on as a junior animator.

And it is the fandom who ultimately makes the legacy for any given work or body of work. So what is RWBY ultimately going to be remembered for?

Legacy

I thought about it for a little while and found five things that are most likely to be associated with RWBY in the public’s memory after its death. The first should come as no surprise to anyone.

Bumbleby

The only part of RWBY that will likely be carried on by fans who stuck with it until the end is, of course, the only part of it that mattered, to many of them. You’ll know from my earlier recaps that shipping was always a big deal in fandom, but due to key choices (or if you prefer, mistakes) made during Volumes 2 and 3, one ship grew larger and more promoted in fandom circles than any others.

This is a combination of the unique features of the RWBY fandom and their one-track mind. The fans are well-known, as I said, to fill in the blanks in a pattern that best suits their narratives, and this works out with Rooster Teeth because it means that any sudden changes in direction they make will always be excused and praised rather than critically examined. Unsurprisingly, Bumbleby’s fandom, now that their victory has been cemented, have doubled down on their narrative that this was the intended goal from the beginning, despite it being plainly obvious that early RWBY was angling for Sun Wukong as the love interest and threw the occasional bones to Blake/Yang shippers to try and play nice.

This used to be one part of the fandom, of course, but as the show continually bombed with viewers and made more and more decisions that pushed them away, all competitors were slowly filtered out as their fans left, until Bumbleby shippers were the fandom. It’s no coincidence that Blake and Yang suddenly started acting unusually touchy and sentimental in Volume Six, following on the heels of a volume of RWBY so wildly unpopular that it woke up the company execs and forced them to acknowledge that the biggest part of their fanbase was only going to remain loyal in exchange for one thing: their ship.

The sad thing is that you can tell Rooster Teeth wanted to explore other options. Volume Five features a rather sudden shift into Yang and Weiss interactions in what I remain positive to this day was an attempt to sway shippers into a potential second choice while Black Sun was still in the oven, and this really represented one of the major errors of Rooster Teeth, in that they failed to understand the audience they were trying so hard to please.

Bumbleby became what I call a “Big Red Button” ship, and it is only the second of its kind that I’ve seen. The first? Destiel.

Yes, there’s a reason I kept comparing RWBY to Supernatural whenever Blake and Yang’s relationship came up. I admit I wasn’t a part of the Supernatural craze in its heyday and have never really enjoyed the show, but I’ve watched enough of it to connect the dots from what cultural osmosis I had to the eventual downfall we saw in November of 2020.

Both Bumbleby and Destiel were held up as the gay ship that would change everything, the biggest ship in the fandom and the one that would’ve been a major push for LGBT visibility, at least during their heydays. The problem was that its fans were not really that interested in LGBT visibility and were simply obsessed with the ship itself, applying it value as a win for LGBT audiences purely to bolster its perceived importance. Fans like this were not ever going to accept any alternatives regardless of the sexual orientations or gender conventions involved. Hence, the metaphor that is “the big red button”. You have a big red button that says “canon gay ship but not the ship you want” and ask the fans you’re trying to court whether they’d press it or not. Whatever they might say out loud, you know none of them is pressing that fucking button, ever.

Both of these Big Red Button ships became what they were due to showrunners being forced into courting an audience they really didn’t care for, and how could you blame them when both were infamously very, very over-active and annoying in general. Just like with RWBY’s well-intentioned but misguided Freezerburn phase in Volume 5, Supernatural also tried to gently shut down fans who then managed to obliviously ignore any and all hints that their ship was not meant to be endgame, and I can say that because “he’s like a brother to me” in any fandom but Supernatural would’ve been a tactical nuclear strike that sent the shippers packing. Once it failed, the gay bait came out in full force. It’s well known by now that, contrary to what one would imagine, the CW was not pulling a profit off of Supernatural’s minor mainstream success pushed by a cult following, so it’s no wonder they eventually resorted to desperately baiting the one audience that was going to stick it out no matter what, provided they had the right relationship dangled in front of them. RWBY went through the same thing.

The main problem with these two ships is that for all its diehards insisted that it was all about the gay representation, their respective shows teased and baited for so long that the world outside the little bubble these shippers lived in had moved on by the time they came to fruition. Gay visibility in media these days, at least western media, is easily available, to the extent that sometimes people believe homophobia is totally over when it really, really isn’t. If you’re looking for gay representation, you can find it plenty of places, and the first place you look probably isn’t going to be Supernatural or RWBY. So the huge wave of viewers that these shippers expected upon their victories was never going to occur, which might could’ve been avoided if the writers had simply grown a pair and made moves towards canon much sooner than before the shows were on their last legs and due to be scrapped.

Or, you know, just been honest. Diversions and alternatives were never going to work. The only thing that these shippers were ever going to understand was a hard no, a “sorry, this ship isn’t going to happen”. But the execs in charge of these shows were never willing to take a hit like that, so instead they dug their own grave.

And where does that leave the shippers, those people who devoted their whole lives to these fictional characters, only to find the show that bore them into the universe dead in a ditch? Well, nowhere good. Much like Supernatural, RWBY is heavily associated with its booming period, the heavily online portion of these shippers’ lives in the early and mid-2010s when it was all the rage, and yet in modern day, it’s seen as a bad neighborhood to hang in, an abandoned mansion at the corner of the street where awful things happened. These shippers don’t have many friends except each other.

Just like RWBY, Supernatural also exists primarily as an ex-fandom now. Much of its former fanbase remember the good days fondly but make no secret that they stopped following it once the writing tanked, and this left the shippers without many allies to associate with since so many of them had been pissed off with the way their shows ultimately became the Destiel Show and the Bumbleby Show, respectively. Contrary to an unfortunately popular idea, these shows did have actual LGBT fanbases, only a lot of their LGBT fans were not on kool-aid and avoided being sucked into a trap called “if you don’t ship this, you’re homophobic”.

You will find that the Bumbleby fandom are often looked on with disdain by quite a number of viewers of RWBY who have accused them of speaking over minorities, sexual and otherwise. Many fans have noted that, aside from Blake’s bisexuality being a seemingly late addition (Arryn Zech is noted to have cast her as straight when discussing Ilia Amitola’s ill-fated crush on her as late as 2019), Blake was very swiftly removed from all faunus characters who held romantic connotations in favor of Yang, implicitly saying that Blake was better committing to a white human woman than to an ethnic faunus male. There are obvious reasons why this left a bad taste in peoples’ mouths. Not to mention, other LGBT fans that invested in the show were not exactly welcomed with open arms.

Fair Game, or as I tend to call it, Qrowver? Qrow x Clover? Yeah, that was huge in Volume 7’s airing days. It very much experienced a rapid ballooning in fans and fandom love...but we all know how that ended. Many a fan who felt heartbroken and, importantly, betrayed by Clover’s sudden and rather pointless death turned on RWBY and Rooster Teeth and accused them of gaybaiting, which is of course exactly what happened. They received no sympathy from Bumbleby shippers—because of course they wouldn’t. If Rooster Teeth would gaybait with Qrow, a popular male character, that would mean they could potentially be gaybaiting with Blake and Yang, too. That was unacceptable, and so ironically the part of the fandom that had always crowed about the importance of extending a hand to LGBT viewers turned on LGBT viewers, valiantly defending Rooster Teeth as they always had.

And because Bumbleby fans had no room in their hearts for anything about RWBY except Bumbleby, and were hostile to anyone who didn’t ship it, they ended up being their own best friends and everyone else’s bad memories. When RWBY has faded from the public’s memory and is no longer a source of active income at all (so, basically right now), one of the only relics you’ll find of this show will be the two women making out in all the fanart you’ll find on the occasional Tumblr blog.

The Bigotry

You could call this section “the Racism” since that’s the biggest part of it, but we’d be remiss in neglecting the harm done to other minorities as well. We’ll get to them in a minute, but race is the thing that’s going to pop to mind when we talk about one of the other things RWBY left behind in the common memory.

One of the longest-running subplots that RWBY ever went through with was the racism subplot. Its basis is one of the things that so severely dates RWBY: creating an in-universe stand-in for people of color through the existence of people with animal traits was something you would absolutely not get away with after 2020, and even by 2016 was something liable to be seen as tacky. Nonetheless, RWBY openly used the faunus as stand-ins for black Americans and the struggles they faced in a white world.

Except that the company, based in Texas and headed largely by white staff, did not feel the importance of that. What slowly started out as a main character’s attempt to redeem an organization she felt had been driven too far and was no longer her home was slowly transformed into a means by which some incredibly racist people could spout off about what they felt were the real issues to be talked about, which were the condemnation they felt was deserved by activists that turned to violence, labeled, a little too quickly, as terrorists.

The 2010s saw a shift in social values, and much as with gay audiences and gay characters, black audiences and black characters—as well as other racial minorities—were experiencing something of a renaissance, with efforts to put the voices of these people into the public’s feeds. It wasn’t just George Floyd in 2020—the unexpected and frankly traumatic reign of Donald Trump as president of the United States galvanized the divide in America and social awareness became a bigger thing than ever, and since Trump was a flagrantly racist person with racist beliefs who enacted racist policies and was uplifted by racist Americans, people pushed back as they felt their lives and existences being threatened by a racist establishment...an establishment which Rooster Teeth came down on the side of very firmly.

No quarter is given to the fictional stand-ins. Sienna Khan’s policies are never examined in-depth, and the only close looks we get at the sorts of activism the White Fang does are at Adam, who is obviously condemned by the narrative and made into everything but a mustache-twirler, with delusional and frankly baffling beliefs of faunus superiority spelled out at length. No matter what concessions Rooster Teeth might’ve tried to make with Sienna’s beliefs before they stuck a sword in her, the fact of the matter is that their beliefs came through in the voices of Ghira and Blake, who made it very clear that the individual motives and experiences of people like Ilia, Corsac, Fennec, Yuma, and the rest simply don’t matter in the face of what they’d been driven to do by them. The whole ‘blacks can be racist’ tone of the final scenes involved in this subplot are both miles removed from the more cautious and neutral tone of early RWBY, and also just a very alarming red flag overall.

I went over this in my Volume 5 Final Thoughts: the shoddiness of the volume does not lie solely with the animation department. Miles and Kerry are known to have had generally sole control of the show up until Volume 7—but we also know that they didn’t have to, if they were writing anything company execs felt wasn’t to their tastes. The sudden twisting of Adam into a homicidal incel ex-boyfriend, along with his mutation into a faunus supremacist, when he was the face of the faunus movement as a whole, along with Sun’s blatant ill will towards the White Fang when he’d previously been willing to give them a chance on Blake’s word, all imply that Miles and Kerry endorsed the worst possible interpretations of racial activists and felt free to condemn them and place responsibility onto the faunus—and by extension, the real-life minorities they represented—to take a stand against the bad seeds within their causes, and the fact no one stopped them from airing this implies the higher-ups felt the same way.

People didn’t just leave RWBY after Volume 5 because of some really badly animated fights—they left because they’d felt too much of the authors’ racism coming through in the narrative and couldn’t comfortably continue watching. Every member of the faunus that had “bad” views was either killed (Adam, Sienna, Fennec), arrested (Corsac, Yuma), or “redeemed” by choosing to fight the first two (Ilia). All of these combined factors, with no room for charitable interpretations…not a good look.

And once Adam was defeated in Volume 5, and the White Fang reformed, that was the last anyone saw of that subplot, which had taken five years to wrap up and somehow still ended too early. Miles and Kerry had washed their hands of it, and references to Blake’s place in society were sparing from then on. This subplot’s inescapable presence throughout the show, combined with how it was dropped out of existence, left no room for redemption, either. No one was going back and saying “maybe this looks really, really bad”.

And so, that’s what a lot of people carried with them as their final and most relevant memories of RWBY: it’s astounding levels of racism. This is a bitter subject for many an ex-RWBY fan, many of whom aren’t white and, even among those that are, it’s simply inexcusable. Meet someone on social media who talks about RWBY at all, and isn’t one of the Bumbleby stans we’ve already discussed? You will find some mention or other of RWBY’s racist elements somewhere within their sphere. And so, that becomes a part of RWBY’s legacy, as a feature of the show that was simply too big to ignore and too poorly-handled to forgive. People don’t get over this shit, man.

This is of course not to mention the well deserved shitty reputation RWBY has for its other bigoted elements, as well. Bumbleby, as we’ve discussed, encompassed pretty much every RWBY stan left standing by 2020, but that left quite a few ex-fans that were fed up with the company’s obvious ploys when it came to sexuality and gender. Remember when I talked about Qrowver up above? Its ballooning and immediate fall from grace was a much-condensed version of RWBY as a whole, and pretty much featured as Rooster Teeth blowing their last remaining patience from LGBT fans to smithereens. The fact of the matter is that when you get down to it, every RWBY volume after Volume 4 was not a good time to be a minority. If you were gay, the show seemed to either ignore or despise you—between the background gays that warranted mockery, the mixed reception Ilia generated, and the outrage that finally boiled over when Clover bit it, part of RWBY’s legacy is how utterly unpleasant it has been for LGBT fans who expected and deserved better.

And so despite entering the scene in 2013 as a supposedly progressive show all for being led by four women, the show died known as a low-effort half-baked cringefest whose politics were always on display and always several years behind the trend.

The Good Days

Of course, another major part of RWBY’s legacy is the early days when everyone actually liked it. This is, again, something the show creators brought on themselves and something fans assisted with. I did mention the nostalgia for the Good Ol’ Days as a significant part of the RWBY fandom’s more cult-like elements, after all. The fact of the matter is, on some level, everyone knows that RWBY has spent several years going downhill. The ex-fans lament this fact, and the diehard stans insist that it’s all just as good as it used to be, primarily by doing what they do quite a lot, and linking completely coincidental elements back to things characters said or did in previous volumes as some sort of evidence that this has been the plan all along.

I’ve run polls on this matter before; even though I’ve recapped Volumes 1-3 thoroughly and shone lights on some pretty significant flaws, you ask anyone what they think the best volume of RWBY was and they’re gonna tell you Volume 3. Yes, even with all of the stalking incel Adam and the deaths of Penny and Pyrrha. It’s the last time RWBY felt cohesive and even though some obvious derailing was in effect, and Shane Newville has openly said that the behind-the-scenes matters were pretty ugly, it’s still the golden child. Shane’s only one person, and it’d be a while before RWBY scandals would become consistent and begin to overshadow the show as a whole.

The RWBY team themselves have certainly nurtured that very much on purpose. That tactic started with them, of course. Many elements that were either unpopular or predicted to ruffle feathers were stated to have originated in earlier volumes, even in situations where this wouldn’t have made sense or where it’s an obvious lie—such as Maria Calavera. They know full well their seasons post-Volume 3 were unpopular and receiving blowback, and tried to minimize it by linking them to more well-respected seasons. Suffice to say that this simply didn’t work. But it does make people remember those earlier volumes. Because so many ex-fans lost their energy for RWBY after its most active period, much of the hype from the hype era is all that you’ll see when you encounter one. Nostalgia wins out in the end, and at least RWBY can say that, as a show, it had enough of a headstart to leave an impression that lasted in a positive way. Although that’s only one side of the coin...

The Scandals

Let’s face facts here, the biggest part of RWBY’s legacy, period, is that it fucking died. It didn’t die instantly, but rather took hit after hit, blow after blow, and slowly had its image tarnished alongside that of the company, which failed to contain repeated scandals as ex-employee after ex-employee after ex-employee spoke out about the abysmal ways they’d been treated.

RWBY is Rooster Teeth’s biggest IP by far and, really, their only one worth talking about. Every other show was either eclipsed by it or unofficially canceled after bad reception. So when Rooster Teeth suffered the consequences of their actions, so did RWBY. It really can’t be overstated how the last few years of RWBY’s existence have been absolutely bombarded by a barrage of terrible Glassdoor reviews and bombshell exposure letters. Fans managed to stay strong through the first few rumblings of ill will, but after Volume 5 shook the fandom loose, discontent entered enough of the fandom sphere to be normalized, and once that happened, it was all downhill. Once people were actually allowed to talk about not liking Rooster Teeth’s content, they sure as hell weren’t going to be dissuaded from talking about not liking Rooster Teeth as a company or its practices.

Separating the art from the artist is a very difficult thing to do and only really appropriate in certain situations. Don’t fall for any kool-aid, guys, it doesn’t make you more mature or ‘above all the drama’ to actively ignore the damage done to real people in the process of getting fictional content out into the world.

If you’re still able to enjoy the Harry Potter books and look back on the good times they gave you in fondness, then fine. If you actually purchased and played the Hogwarts Legacy game programmed by antisemites and which puts money in the pocket of the transphobic owner of the franchise, then yeah, people will be right to give you shit for it. There’s a difference between quietly enjoying a product in a manner that doesn’t hurt anybody, and actively ignoring the people hurt to make that product while feigning concern. The gap in the fandom widened as the repeated leaks and scandals continuously ate away at the protective bubble around Rooster Teeth and it became clear that whatever fans might bleat, Rooster Teeth wasn’t going to ‘learn their lesson and do better’. The habitual cycle of using whatever recent scandal had occurred to cast disappointment and anger on a particular figure and uplift the rest of “CRWBY” (see also: the Gray Haddock issue) gave diminishing returns as the bombs kept dropping. This is part of why RWBY has such an ex-fandom, because if they aren’t enjoying the product and people were hurt to make it, why stay?

Crunching employees so hard they struggle to sleep and suffer debilitating health issues? Writing the n-word on a white board knowing a black employee will see it? Goading someone into trying to kill themselves? Calling an LGBT employee a slur and then making up a public-friendly nickname in place of that slur just to get away with continuing to call her that? Laying off people without warning or a means of letting them stay afloat until another job is found? Not paying or crediting employees and cultivating an environment where those in charge do what they want and those in the public eye reap all the benefit while those without a consistent spotlight get treated like dirt?

Just some of the things I thought up off the top of my head. There’s plenty more in the details. And you can’t blame Fullscreen, you can’t blame Warner, you can’t just write it off as something that happens at animation studios, because it isn’t. Yeah, the work environment in general for animation studios in America is lacking because, ya know, late-stage capitalism hellscape, but that’s dismissive of the point. Rooster Teeth are a bad company and hurt their employees and lie when called on it. It’s impossible to separate RWBY from Rooster Teeth (despite stubborn stans’ best attempts, which themselves have been called out by these same ex-employees) and because of that, RWBY’s legacy is one of corporate abuse and utterly vile behavior towards people that just wanted to make something cool.

People have refused to associate with the show over these things and honestly, they’re right to. RWBY’s ultimate legacy, if we’re honest, is the show that became a shadow of its former self, still trying to dazzle with reminders of its former glory and promises of gay relationships, all while trying to squeeze money out of both the employees who made it and the fans who upheld it. It’s the show that cost hundreds of people their physical and mental health and didn’t even have anything to show for it at the end of the day. It will live on in history as the most bitter of pills to swallow, that something you once liked and wanted to succeed can and will be ruthlessly twisted for profit margins and might actively hate you on the side. And speaking of…

Monty Oum

The biggest travesty of RWBY’s legacy is that Monty Oum is ultimately only the smallest part of it. He’s there, but barely—he’s a name in the credits that quite frankly is only there to keep up the facade of loyalty, when the show had stopped being Monty’s show before he even died and by now can be safely said to resemble nothing he would’ve made.

It’s a shame that for all that Monty was held up as a genius of his craft and a genuinely good man who inspired so many people, all he’s going to be remembered for is...this. A show people only attach his name to in an effort to insist it’s actually worth sticking by. Yes, Monty did other things, had other works, but none of them ever achieved even a fraction of the fame and respect that RWBY had from its first baby steps in 2013.

Maybe this could’ve been avoided if the real carriers of Monty’s legacy—Sheena, his wife, and Shane, his pupil—hadn’t been cast off as they had.

Shane seems to have found a new life and is working with Dillon Gu on animation, but I think we’ve all noticed his name hasn’t gone mainstream yet. I’ve tried to get in touch with him; from what I’ve gleaned, I frankly just advise leaving him alone. He wants to move on and I don’t think the RWBY fandom, which was so awful to him for telling the truth, is ever going to be a place he can feel welcome.

Sheena has mostly been quiet and done her own thing, cosplaying and watching anime and hopefully enjoying herself, although I notice posts on her Twitter feed from last year calling for a New Deal in the animation sector and castigating corporate abuses.

She also plays Hades, a much better product than RWBY with more love put into it and much better LGBT representation, which means her taste is excellent. She has a site now that you can go to, and the about section doesn’t mention Monty, her late husband, at all, for obvious reasons: Sheena doesn’t want to be connected to RWBY. Though, there is something there that’s noteworthy, in the last paragraph:

Still desiring a social element to her career, the animator turned professional cosplayer also has a history in the live stream world. Past broadcasts have included creating costume pieces, playing games with community members and subscribers, RPGs and more. No matter the project, peers or problem, Sheena strives to keep moving forward.

That powerful phrase we all associate with Monty.

It’s a shame that this show had to be Monty’s legacy, and that years off from now, his name isn’t going to mean anything to the public because the project he was passionate about and died making outlived him and his passion. It feels like his legacy was stolen, and his own part in the show’s legacy is held up purely as a pedestal on which the show should rightfully shine.

Every time I think about Monty, I think about how much I don’t want that to be me. For all the years I’ve spent here, with my graphics certifications being wasted since I earned them while I slave away in retail, I wonder if I’m the lucky one. If I were to enter the workforce and do what I loved, would it be worth it in the end? Would what happened to Monty and Sheena and Shane happen to me? Not sure I wanna know.

Snipped here.

#rwde #rwby

[lyszyx]

Platonic Date

୨ . . . . 𝘈 𝘓𝘦𝘦 𝘏𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 . . . . ୧

˗ˏˋ 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘓𝘦𝘦 𝘏𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 ˎˊ˗

˗ˏˋ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 2.7𝘬 ˎˊ˗

˗ˏˋ 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 ˎˊ˗

You had known Heeseung for a few months now, after your best friend Jungwon had introduced him to you. Jungwon always loved the idea of his best friends getting along with you since you were an important person to him, in a platonic way. His best friend group consisted of Jake, Sunghoon, Jay and Heeseung, the latter one being the oldest.

Apart from your best friend Jungwon you didn’t have many people you liked to see often. Sure, Yujin here and there but apart from her that’s it. Mentioning ‘liked’ because there were also other people you had to see, just not with much enjoyment. These people were your father’s colleagues their sons and daughters, which your father forced you to like. You always agreed to meeting them to make sure your dad’s connections don’t fall apart.

You did not click with these people at all, in fact you somewhat despised them. They always threw obvious glares at you and after that acted like you were their favourite person roaming earth when in fact they disliked seeing you as much as you did. Your dad was the lowest position among all of your parents, which made them believe that looking down on you was the way to go. They did well at looking down on you, making you walk out at the end of the night with a heavy heart, doubting yourself and your abilities along with those of your father.

It was another of those meet-ups but this one was a little different, challenging. All these years all of them had brought dates to the meet-ups, you never bringing one because who would you bring? But this year they asked you, well practically demanded you, to bring a date.

“Wonie please save me from this hellish dinner that I have in two days.” you whined and cried, “I mean how the hell am I even supposed to find a date in two days?!” Jungwon chuckled, “Don’t act like you haven’t known about the date thing for a while, y/n. Just ask one of the guys, no? I mean Heeseung’s a good looking dude, they’d be drooling all over him the entire night but he’ll be right next to you. Great way to get back at them.” He gave you his oh-so-amazing idea, your face immediately lighting up at the thought of them drooling over your date. Although you loved this idea, since Heeseung is one good looking man, worries washed over you. “Won’t Heeseung think this is weird? What if he thinks I’m just using him?” You explained your worries to Jungwon, him immediately shaking his head. “I know Heeseung and so do you, he’d be more than down to help you.” He reassures you. You nod at Jungwon, “Thanks wonie, I’ll go now. I’ll give someone a call.” You smile at your best friend as you headed towards his front door, opening it and leaving to go home.

-

“Hey y/n, what’s up?” Heeseung picked up the call basically immediately, not leaving you waiting. “Hey Heeseung! I um-“ you stutter. “I wanted to ask you for a favour.” You managed to finish your sentence somehow. Heeseung hums in response, “How can I help?” he asks you carefully. “Well you see, this is something very annoying to ask but Jungwon kinda convinced me to do it.” You hesitate continuing to explain the situation but realise that you’d rather ask this than go through hell if you show up without a date. “I have this annual thing with my dad’s colleagues their sons and daughters and I’m kind of forced to bring a date. These people are actually really annoying and kinda horrible and honestly I wouldn’t want to take you there, I’m just really desperate. I don’t want to humiliate myself showing up without someone once again, y’know? It’s been like this every year.” You catch your breath, “So I was wondering if you would want to come as my platonic date.”

“Sure” His answer was short and easy but clear “One thing though,” and it was too good to true. “I’ll go if I can take you on an actual date sometime.” Heeseung blurted out, this was past your expectation of what he could’ve possibly said. “Huh?” You audible questioned what had just been said. “I think you heard what I said, y/n.” He said shyly, from the way he sounded you knew he was smiling brightly. “Um, yeah. We can make that work,” you hesitated on saying what you want to say next “But why?” you questioned. “Why what? Why I want to go on a date with you?” He replied and you nodded, even though he can’t see you. “Because I think you’re pretty, inside and out. So I’d like to get to know you on a more personal level.” He continued, as if he knew you were nodding. What he said left you baffled, Heeseung had an eye on you and you never noticed.

“Deal.” You reply to his confession. “We need to be there at 7pm this saturday. Dress code is formal but you know, the young adult type of formal. Dress shirt with jeans, tie is optional.” you explained, going too much in detail and blabbering out of disbelief of what Heeseung had just told you. “I’ll come to yours at 6:30, is that fine?” He asked. You nodded again, this time also replying to him “Yes, that’s good. It’ll be dinner so make sure you have an empty belly.”. “Alright, see you then y/n.” You exchanged your goodbyes and with that you ended the call.

-

Your doorbell rang through your apartment sending shivers down your spine knowing who was at your door. You were wearing your dark blue silk dress, make-up half finished as you ran towards the front door. You swing the door open, revealing the tall male wearing a white dress shirt with black jeans, as told. “Hi” You shyly say as you open the door more, inviting Heeseung in. “Hey y/n, you look stunning.” You gave him a little twirl as you smiled at him. “Thank you so much, I got this dress last week! Jungwon helped me pick the color!” You told him excitedly. “Jungwon has good taste, as we’ve been knew.” Heeseung laughed as he said that, trying not to look awkward.

“I still have to finish my make-up, if you wanna join me in the bathroom.” you invited him along as you make your way towards the bathroom. “It already look good though?” he questioned as he examined your face. “I’m missing lashes and eyeliner.” You help him out as he seemed to struggle figuring out what you hadn’t finished yet. He muttered out a small ‘ah’ as he walked into the bathroom with you. You took out the small stool you were previously sitting on, placing it next to Heeseung and allowing him to sit down. “Weren’t you using that?” He asked you with a confused face. You nodded at him, “I need to be closer to the mirror for this, so it’s best if I stand up now.” You explained to him. You noticed he still hasn’t sat down, “Please Heeseung, I insist.” You pout your bottom lip, causing the male to sit down immediately.

As time ticked by, your realised it was time to go. “I dread this.” You looked at Heeseung, sad and worried expression on your face. “If anything’s wrong, you tap my hand and I’ll tell them I don’t feel well and that we’ll go home. Okay?” You smiled gratefully at him, thanking Jungwon in your head for giving you the idea of asking Heeseung along. The drive towards the restaurant didn’t take long, around 7 minutes. As your arrived Heeseung noticed some of the cars parked in front of it, “Are these those guys’ cars by any chance?” He questions. “There’s a huge chance, yes.” Heeseung gave you an impressed look, getting ready to open his door and leave the car before you stopped him. He turned his head to look at you. “Look, these people are the absolute worst. Please let me know as soon as you want to leave, okay?” you told him, to which he nodded, “I tap your hand, you tap mine.”

“Y/nie! So nice to see you again sweetheart! Who’s this fine gentleman you brought along?” There was Karina, the one who loved picking on you and encouraging the others to do so as well. “This is Heeseung, he’s my-“ “Boyfriend” Heeseung finished. You tried hiding your face of disbelief, being sure that you were not hiding it well. “Oh my god? You didn’t tell you had a boyfriend?” Karina says in the most mocking voice possible. “Since when do you bag fine men?” She added. Heeseung’s hand that was positioned on your waist tightened, obvious discomfort and anger in his body language. As more people walked into the restaurant, Karina left the two of you. “You just let them walk over you like that?” Heeseung questions you. “I have to, for my dad.” You reply to him. Heeseung turned his head around, ruffling his hair a little. “I won’t be able to stay here for long if it’s like this all night, y/n.” He confesses to you and you appreciate his honesty. “That’s okay, just tap my hand.” Heeseung nods at your reply.

As dinner progresses, comments got worse and worse. ‘Did you pay him to come?’ ‘Is he your cousin?’ and many more. So many that Heeseung felt like giving up. He tried his best to stay the entire night to please you, so you wouldn’t disappoint your dad but these he was tired of seeing you get walked over. So he taps your hand, it’s light so you weren’t sure it was on purpose. You turn your head to look at him as he looks back at you, tapping your hand once again, clear this time. You nod at him, giving him the go, “Hey, I’m so sorry for cutting off your conversation but I’m actually not feeling too well and I think it’s best y/n and I head home.” He starts off. “See you again next time, everyone.” And with that he stands up, one hand grabbing yours, the other your purse. Heeseung didn’t even give the others time to respond, he just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

At last the two of you made it outside. “I’m so sorry Heeseung…” You were staring at your feet on the ground. “But thank you for putting yourself through this to do me a pleasure. I appreciate that, a lot.” Heeseung seemed to have calmed down at your words, forgetting about the previous two hours as if it never even happened. His hand found its way on top of your head, caressing your hair as a way of showing comfort. “It’s okay.” he whispered. His hand fell for from your head to your shoulder, squishing the skin and pulling you a little closer into a side hug. “I have an idea.” he suddenly says, causing your head to pop up. “How about we park the car at your apartment and get some drinks, talk and get to know each other better?” He suggests, immediately earning a bright smile from you. “That would be very nice mr. Lee” You chuckle.

Both of you were now walking to the nearest convenience store, a CU being 7 minutes away from your apartment. “I still have some soju at home but that’s it.” you tell Heeseung. “Let’s get some beer then.” Heeseung says as he smiles at you as he holds the door of the store open for you. You mouth a ‘thank you’ as you walk in. Heeseung heads straight towards the alcoholic drinks, taking some, as you look at the snacks.

You both found some things, Heeseung had the drinks and you had the snacks. As the cashier was scanning you were taking out your card but before you knew it Heeseung had paid. You sulk, “We’re going to my place, I should provide!” Heeseung just chuckles it off as he grabs the two bags from the cashier, saying thank you and goodbye before he walks off. You stay there for a bit, sulking at Heeseung back as you watch him walk away, before following after him. “Not fair ya know?” You mutter as you were now stood beside the male. “It was my idea, it’s only logical that I pay, y/n.” he defends himself with an ear to ear smile on his face, a smile you can’t be annoyed with.

It was now well into the evening, both of you being a little drunk. The more drinks you had, the more tension started building up. Sexual tension that is, coming from both Heeseung and you. You previously played some drinking games, asking each other questions. As time passed, questions got more personal and sensual. “Wanna get more comfortable in the couch?” You proposed to him, him immediately agreeing. You stumble towards the couch, Heeseung tagging along. He sneakily finds your hand, as a way to ‘support you stumbling’. Good thing you were drunk, your face was already red so he couldn’t notice the blush spreading on your cheeks.

Heeseung had the entire couch yet chose to sit right next to you, leaving your heart pounding. You were sat in silence, taking each others faces in and smiling like a bunch of idiots. “Can I lay my head on your lap?” you ask him shyly. “No” his reply is stern, leaving you confused. “I mean, it’s just…” he was stuttering, not knowing what to say or how to explain his current situation. Fact is, you knew his current situation, having noticed the bulge in his pants as soon as you stood up to go to the couch. You just wanted to tease him a bit. You change your sitting position, now slagging to the side looking at the male sat beside you. “It’s okay, I understand.” you smile sheepishly at him.

It doesn’t take much longer before your hands found their way on his cheeks, pulling him closer to attach your lips to his. Though the tension was strong, the kiss was very soft and innocent. It was more a way of showing liking rather than initiating something sexual. The kiss lasted around 3 seconds. After you pulled away Heeseung’s eyes were still closed, as if anticipating another kiss, so you comply. This kiss was deeper, less innocent than the previous one. You knew after this kiss there was no turning back, you wouldn’t be able to get enough of him from now on. That way a make out session started, sloppy and messy kisses being exchanged. It didn’t take much longer before Heeseung latched his hand around your knee, pulling your leg over him so you were straddling him, making you feel his hardened member. “Just for me?” You tease. “Mhm, just for you.” he replies, leaving you thirsting for all of him. Everything and all of him.

Even though you were drunk, you were still aware of what was happening. Because of that panic shot through your head, thinking this might be stupid since you’re drunk. “Hee-Heeseung” you tried whispering in between kissed. He hummed in response, pulling away and allowing you to talk. “Let’s leave this for another time, when we’re both sober?” You weren’t sure if you just asked a question or made a statement but you were sure that going on would be stupid, since this could possibly ruin your friendship. “Oh my god, yes. I’m so sorry y/n I-“ You cut him off immediately with a small peck, “Heeseung, I loved this don’t get me wrong. I just want us to be fully aware of what we’re doing. Hence why I think it’s best to wait…” you trailed off, scared you sounded dumb or afraid. Heeseung nodded his head vigorously, clearly agreeing with what you were saying. “Maybe it’s best I go home, it’s hard to keep my hands to myself right now.” He suggested, you immediately jumping up “No! You’re not driving in this state Hee. Just, spend the night here. I’ll take the couch ‘kay?” You started walking towards the blankets piled up next to the sofa when Heeseung started talking. “I’m not letting you sleep on the couch. I’ll be fine here y/n, just slee comfortably in your bed.” You didn’t feel like bickering or denying his offer so just complied, nodding your head. And like that the night had come to an end

note: i disappeared for a while and i’ll probably do it again but hope you enjoyed this!!! definitely more parts coming up so stay tuned <3

#lee heeseung #heeseung #fanfic #enhypen #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x reader #enhypen smut #heeseung fic #lee heeseung fic #lee heeseung smut

[watchmegetobsessed]

FAMILY FIRST

A/N: our fav little family has had so many lovely fluffy fics, though i would take it to a bit more serious direction! also, i didn't want the week to pass without a new fic especially since i reached 11k followers which is just absolutely crazy!! so thank you so much for each and every one of you!!

PAIRING: husband!dad!Harry X Reader

SUMMARY: Harry is a great dad, but sometimes he messes it up and you have to remind him that family comes first.

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

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Harry knows your silence is worse than when you scream and shout at him. Whenever you give him radio silence he knows he fucked up, royally.

This week has been way more hectic than usually. Harry’s been traveling a lot lately, leaving you alone with the kids for days at a time and though you knew there would be times when he can’t be around as much as he usually does, with Leo here it’s even harder than before.

You have help, lots of it actually, Anne, Gemma and your parents are always happy to take over some babysitting duties and you have a trustin nanny as well, but you and Harry have always been the type of parents who like to do everything themselves. Your life is crazy enough already since you’re married to a celebrity, but especially because of that, you want your private everydays to be as normal as possible. 

You’ve always been supportive when it came to Harry’s career, but you also made it very clear that you expect him to put his family first. And for most of the time he kept his promises he made to you about being a father first and then an artist.

However sometimes things pile up around him and he forgets his priorities.

He came home just yesterday from LA, his tan is a clear sign he’s been away from his home country. He has a few days at home until he needs to leave again, so it was obvious this time would be reserved for his family and daddy duties. Unfortunately some last minute work came up and he needed to meet up with Jeff and his team in the middle of his time off.

You rescheduled your plans and Anne offered to take care of the cooking which was supposed to be Harry’s task while you’re running errands. In the afternoon he promised to pick Ellie up from her dance class while you get the twins from school, and he was supposed to pick up your dresses from the dry cleaner as well since it was on his way to Ellie’s dance school. This plan left him almost the whole day to take care of whatever work just came up.

But it’s not at all how it happened.

You just got done at the supermarket, Leo strapped to your chest as you carried two bags full of groceries when you got a call from Ellie’s dance teacher.

“Y/N, hi! Sorry to bother, but are you coming to pick Ellie up today?” the teacher asks in the most polite way, but you can tell she’s worried too.

“Oh, my husband is supposed to pick her up, he’s not there yet?” you ask, checking the time and seeing her class has ended fifteen minutes ago.

“No, he hasn’t showed up yet.”

“Wow, okay, let me give him a call and I’ll get back to you, okay?��� you sigh. 

“Sure!”

You put Leo into his seat and then dial Harry’s number while leaving the parking lot. The line just rings and rings through the speakers since you have your phone connected to them, and then he never answers. You try again, but no luck this time either. You can already feel your headache throbbing since now you have to take care of everything on your own. You give Ellie’s teacher a callback, asking if she can stay there until you pick the twins up and make your way to the dance school. She says it’s fine, Ellie can join in on the class that’s just about to start and wait for you until you arrive. You thank her cooperation and drive just a tad bit faster than the usual to do everything Harry was supposed to do as well.

Harry knows he fucked up the moment he realizes how late it is when he finally leaves his meeting, two missed calls from you fifteen minutes after he was supposed to pick Ellie up. Only two, no more. Some people fear it when they have millions of missed calls, but Harry knows you don’t do that. You reach out once, then give it another go and then you take matters in your own hands.

It’s six thirty, Ellie’s dance class was over at five and the dry cleaner closes at six. He did not complete any of the tasks he was supposed to and he can’t even make up for any of them now.

He speeds down the roads like a maniac as he heads home, cursing under his breath continuously, knowing how badly he fucked up. Your car is already parked in the garage when he arrives and walking into the house he finds the kids finishing up their dinner while you’re feeding Leo from a bottle.

You don’t even look at him when he walks in, but the kids greet him with excitement as always, since they didn’t catch much of the mess-up he caused. The twins were picked up in time and Ellie had a blast joining in on another dance class until you arrived. You made it to the dry cleaners just in time as well, but because of the little extra trip you had to make you only got home about thirty minutes ago, quickly heated up the dinner Anne left for you out on the stove and dinner was exactly on time, luckily. But that doesn’t change the fact that you had to do it all by yourself. 

“Daddy!” Maddy cheers and hopping off of her chair she runs up to hug him.

“Hi Princess, sorry I’m so late,” he breathes out, Picking the girl up into his arms and giving her a tight hug.

“Hi dad!” Ellie and Max greets him as well as they leave the table since they finished their dinner already.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m so sorry–” he starts, but you cut him off, still not looking at him.

“Guys, how about you go up to your rooms and pack your bags for tomorrow, hm?”

“Okay!” they sing in unison and you wait until their footsteps die down so that they are out of hearing range before finally looking at Harry.

He wants you to lash out on him, to tell him how badly he fucked up, to scream and shout, but you just give him a disappointed look and nothing else as you put Leo’s now empty bottle down and holding him on your chest you start burping him.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to disappear, I just couldn’t leave that fucking meeting and when I looked at the time it was so late, I’m so sorry!”

Rocking around the kitchen, gently smacking Leo’s back you still remain silent and Harry is starting to panic. He hates your silence, as much as he deserves it, he could scream when you don’t talk to him. 

“Please, baby, just say something!” he begs and you look at him again with that disappointed look that completely shatters his heart.

“You were not a dad today, Harry. You were Harry Styles, the singer, the star, but you were supposed to be my husband, my partner, the father to your kids. You made promises and you didn’t just not keep them, you left everything to me and didn’t even take the time to at least let me know.”

“I know, I’m so sorry, baby! I fucked up, so bad! I’m so so sorry!” Stepping closer he notices you don’t back away from him, but when he cups your face in his palm you don’t lean into his touch like you usually do and it’s like a slap across his face.

“I don’t need your apology. I need you to be there when we need you. We decided to start a family together and I told you in the beginning that I don’t want to feel like I’m a single mother. You promised to always put your family first and I accepted that sometimes you won’t be here. We have a support system, I’m not entirely alone, but when you don’t do the things you promise to, I can’t just make everyone stop what they are doing and help me. We are the parents of our kids, Harry. Before Anne, Gemma or my parents, or any nanny, we come first, we need to take care of them, but I can’t do it without you.”

Harry just stands there, completely destroyed, listening to your words, knowing you’re right. He knows he messed this one up badly and he needs to hear this from you.

“Four kids, Harry. We have four kids. Do you not realize how big of a responsibility is just one kid? And we have four, one of them is just a baby. A baby you begged me to have. And you know I love all of our children more than anything, but I did not sign up for this on my own. I need my partner, I need my husband, I can’t do this without you.”

Your eyes are now getting teared up, your lips trembling. You had to be on top of your game earlier with the kids, but now you’re realizing just how this situation made you feel. Before having Ellie it was one of your biggest fears that one day you’d be left alone with all the parent duties because of Harry’s career. Now, you know it won’t happen, but in times like this you can’t help but feel like he is shifting into the wrong direction. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, Y/N. This was… I just got lost for a moment, but I know I’m a father and husband first, I want to be that first! Everything else… it doesn’t matter if I don’t have you and the kids. I would give it all up for our family, I love you guys more than anything and I promise it will never happen again!”

Now he is crying too, he pulls you into his arms, Leo still in your hold and this time you lean against him willingly, the tough act is already gone.

“I don’t want you to give it up. I would never ask you that, I just want you to be present when you’re with us, so I can rely on you.”

“I will. And I’m so sorry I disappointed you today. And thank you for being the most amazing woman I know. You always take care of our family, even when I’m being a wanker.”

You laugh through your tears as you adjust the babbling baby in your arms, who has no idea about the conversation that just went down in his presence. 

“You really was a wanker today. I wanted to punch you so badly when Ellie’s dance teacher called me,” you tell him, but the anger is now gone, you just want to load it all out on him.

“You know what? Do it. Hit me, I deserve it.”

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes laughing. Harry smirks at you, taking your face into his hands as he pulls you in for a sweet makeup kiss. 

“Ah, okay, so you want to channel your anger in the bedroom, I get it,” he smirks against your lips. “I’m fine with that, we can be rough tonight.”

“Harry Styles, you are such a pig, I can’t believe I married you.”

“I can’t believe it either,” he smiles, taking Leo from your arms. “You’re way too out of my league, why did you settle with me?” he jokes around.

“Because you have a big dick,” you answer with a straight face and Harry did not expect an answer like this, he starts coughing while laughing, adjusting the baby in his arms. 

“Alright, I’ll take that, thank you,” he chuckles and leaning closer he steals a kiss, right when Maddie starts crying somewhere upstairs, she probably got into an argument with Max again. “I got it, daddy is on duty tonight. Just go and relax, baby.”

“I’ll clean up in the kitchen,” you sigh, but he shakes his head no.

“Nope, I’m doing that too. Go and watch some Netflix or take a nice bath. You’re off tonight.”

“Alright,” you smile and steal another quick kiss before Harry disappears upstairs to settle the argument between the twins. 

The bath sounded nice, so that’s what you do while Harry covers the evening routine like a pro, putting everyone to bed while you have some time to pamper yourself and wash your hair without someone bursting into the bathroom and invading your privacy that’s been nonexistent for about seven years now. 

When the kids are down Harry takes a quick shower and joins you in bed, craving to be close to you after such a stressful day. He spoons you from behind, strong arms holding you tight in his hold as he kisses your shoulder.

“I love you and I’m sorry about today.”

“I love you too and you’re forgiven,” you chuckle softly.

“I want to make it up to you. I hope you don’t have plans for Saturday.”

“I don’t, but you do, you’re flying out on friday, aren’t you?” you ask as you turn around to face him.

“Canceled my trip, I’ll do the interview online. I’ve been away too much lately, I want to be here. So, date night on Saturday? Already asked my mum, she can babysit for us.”

“Date night it is then,” you smile before leaning in to kiss him. This is exactly the man you fell in love with, the one you decided to have a family with and the one you want to spend the rest of your life with. Your Harry, your love, your partner forever.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

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[loaksky]

prompt 18 from the angst one with neteyam pls!!!!!!!!

second installment for the party; thank you for requesting! <3

neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader, angst w open ending, wc: 843

It was silly of you to think that you and Neteyam would be anything more than two distant stars gliding by the other; two parallel paths that never seem to converge.

But you held onto the desperate hope that maybe things would bend in your favor. The two of you had spent so much time from adolescence to young adulthood tethered at the hip, had achieved every milestone with the strength of the other. It had only made sense, the two of you.

“By our twenty-first orbit,” you’d said quietly, in the dead of the night near the scientist’s encampment. You were loose-lipped and your cheeks were warm from the amber liquid Lo’ak had swiped and smuggled to you. “If there is no one…we should…”

You blinked, lips parted because the moon’s gentle beam refracted so beautifully over the planes of Neteyam’s sharpened features. He was watching you intently with a sheen of glossiness over his sleepy eyes.

“We should?” He’d taken the flask from you, your presence and your friendship stoking the flames of his infrequent delinquency as he brought the mouth to his lips and took the shortest of swigs.

“We should be together,” you swallowed, shy eyes darting away.

All you received was a momentary hum, a shift in his seat, before he put you out of your misery and agreed with a simple nod.

“Sure,” he accepted. “Five orbits from now, we’ll see.”

You’d nodded, rolled your lips to hide your grin, as you locked that night away tight in your heart.

You’re just shy of your twenty-first when he finds you after duties. You mistake his excitement for yearning to be with you. The dire need for the next few eclipses to pass with no more than a few blinks of an eye so that you may solidify the limbo you have with him.

“Ru’a has accepted my courtship,” Neteyam tells you, cheeks nearly purple and eyes a hazy gold.

Your smile falters, drops within the next moment and you wait for him to tell you that he’s just joking. That he’d waited for you all this time just as you had.

But his aura has shifted, he’s lovesick, you realize. And the dread that fills you is tangible when you connect the dots; when you realize that he hasn’t been giddy with desire for you, but for the sweet singer who’d won him over with crooning love songs.

Should have seen it coming, truly. He was asking you too many questions about being in love, about what signs to look for, what girls liked, what they hated. How naive to think he’d been asking for you. It’d have been too obvious, too tacky and juvenile to use your own advice on you. Neteyam was too thoughtful for such a thing.

“Oh…” you sigh, like the breath’s been stolen from your lungs.

How could he? How could Ewya, the universe? How could they conspire to inflate your hope and then smash it to the tiniest of unmendable pieces when all you had ever wanted in life was to love and be loved by Neteyam.

He sees the disappointment on your face, his expression stutters too.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, lips parting in shock when he finds involuntary tears pooling in your eyes.

“What about us?” you whisper.

And it hurts infinitely more when confusion twists his handsome face.

“What are you talking about?” he asks, hands settling one your shoulders. They're meant to be comforting, but the weight makes you nauseous. “I’m not following, ________.”

Your mouth twitches into a frown and you blink back your tears.

“You agreed that it’d be you and me,” you whimper, knuckling your eyes. “When we were sixteen.”

His brows furrow, and just as quickly as his touch lingers, it’s gone.

“You’re being silly.” He breathes a soft laugh in hopes that maybe you’ll tell him that you’re messing with him. That this is just one of your little stunts. But you’re crying and he’s lost.

“You’re unfair, Neteyam,” you shudder.

His face screws up in mild annoyance because things are going south, fast. All he’d wanted was to share his news with his closest friend, but you’re obviously not having it and he doesn’t know where any of this is coming from.

“What are you—” He cuts himself off, takes a deep breath to reorient himself. “You’re not making any sense right now.”

“I want to be with you!” you shout shakily, fists clenched tight. “I have since we were young, and I waited!”

“Why would you?” he asks incredulously. “I–”

“Because you said we would!” you argue, chest heaving. “We agreed that we’d be together and you don’t even fucking remem–”

“No, ________! You’re right, I don’t!” he sighs raggedly, shoulders sagging. He swallows as he shifts on his feet, seemingly defeated as he tries to wrack his brain.

You stand there, staring at him like you don’t know the person he’s become and for a moment, something in the air is electric.

“I-I don’t remember,” he whispers. “I’m sorry.”

neng ©️ 2023

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