#ok i kind of lost the thread here

[mangoshorthand]

ugh, ok listen. its stupid and cheesy and overplayed but i love the caught under the mistletoe trope. its stupidly corny and as annoying as christmas is, my dumb ass falls for it everytime. you’re my favourite writer for five, and if you could write something for this (or hit me with a bat to improve my taste) that’d be rlly cool. if not, dw and happy holidays.

Stupid, cheesy and overplayed? You just described my entire body of work! I've struggled writing for a while so I hope people enjoy this. Merry Christmas, weirdos x

Twelve Feet Away From the Mistletoe | Five Hargreeves / F Reader 2.8k words

Viktor was a friend of a friend who gradually became your own. 

He was supportive when you lost your job in September, and was even more practical help when you lost your apartment around Halloween. 

“There are like forty spare bedrooms. Technically I can do what I like with six of those since I own a seventh of the house. Plus you wouldn’t get in anyone’s way. There’s like…so much room. 

“Viktor, that’s kind but I’ll be fine. My parents say -”

“Don’t your parents live outside the city?” he interrupted, “I think it would be easier to find work if you’re here.”

“Yeah, it would, but I can’t pay any rent.”

“I don’t want rent. Stay a few months. Be my guest. I could use someone to help me deal with my crazy family anyway. It’s weird being back in that house.”

And so, you’d accepted. It was hard to refuse Viktor anything. 

‘Crazy’ was one word to describe his family. ‘Volatile’, ‘noisy’ and ‘infuriating’ were some others. 

And none were more infuriating than Number Five. 

You met him the first night you stayed, while Viktor was thrashing you at pool as the pair of you got gradually drunker on Moscow Mules. You weren’t really enjoying the game, but you were enjoying hanging out with him, and you’d just mis-cued spectacularly as Five entered the room.

The first thing you noticed was his scowl. The second, third, fourth and fifth thing you noticed was his looks. 

Dark. Pale. Jaw a razor lined angle, nose long and imperious. He moved with quick, confident grace as he crossed the room. It was as if every thread of carpet his shoes touched had been waiting until that moment, just to pave his way, and now all other treads to come would be incidental to the floor’s true purpose. Hands thrust self-assuredly in his pockets, he seemed to look down on you as if from a great height, although he was barely an inch taller. 

Cold green eyes looked you up and down.  

He cut a fine figure, but an arrogant one. Despite his looks, your overriding impression was only of rudeness, so you met the challenge of his gaze unflinchingly. 

After a moment surveying you, he turned to Viktor.

“Luther’s looking for you.”

“Why?” Viktor asked.

“No idea. I’m not your secretary.”

As Five’s gaze shifted back to you, Viktor took the hint and introduced you.

“She’s a friend of mine,” he said, by way of explanation, “she’s lost her apartment so she’ll be staying for a while.”

Five sighed at this, shaking his head at you with a dark chuckle.

“Is there a problem?” you asked, politely. 

“No. No problem,” he said, though his tone making it clear that there was, “It’s only that I’ve seen this play out a dozen times: my brother has a habit of picking up waifs and strays.”

“Don’t be dickhead,” Viktor murmured.

Five shrugged, smirking.

“Letting me stay for a few weeks because we’re friends is hardly ‘picking me up’, you said, bristling, “I’m sure Viktor will ask for your opinion when he wants it.”

Five smiled that infuriating, sarcastic smile of his. Even then, when you were angry with him, looking into his eyes was an experience you noticed for the way it made your heart beat.

“I guess I’m just a little protective,” Five said, delicately, “I know how susceptible he is to a sob story."

He looked at you insolently for a beat longer before addressing his next words to Viktor.

"Don’t let her take advantage of you.”

“Come on, Five,” said Viktor, almost wearily, “I can decide who’s taking advantage for myself.”

Five scoffed, at this, expressing doubt as clearly as if he'd spoken it.

Stinging with the injustice of Five’s snap judgment and his infantilization of his brother, you ground your teeth. You knew Viktor had a tough time as ‘Number Seven’ (always being told he wasn’t good enough), and for a moment you thought you could see that in Five’s treatment of him.

“Your brother’s a grown man. So why don’t you fuck off and go back to torturing small mammals, planning your next school shooting or whatever your We Need to Talk About Kevin - looking ass likes to do?”

Five looked back at you, in slight surprise, studying your angry face. After a short moment, he gave a tiny shrug and made a small noise of assent.

Then, looking back at Viktor:

“Do you want Thai food later?”

When he was gone, Viktor assured you that you’d just made as good an impression as it was possible to make. 

You doubted this, however. Five rarely spoke to you beyond a good morning and a good night. He was polite, but nevertheless guarded. 

It was strange, on the few occasions he had deigned to strike up a conversation with you, he took two routes: he'd either draw you out for no reason other than to challenge you on your opinions, or else ask odd combinations of questions. There was nothing odd in themselves, but in aggregate they felt...strategic. He asked what you liked to do, whether you lived with a roommate or partner in your last place, how you and Viktor met, how well you knew each other…the list went on. 

Perhaps he was still scrutinizing you, ensuring that you weren’t trying to use his brother in any way. 

It stung to feel that he still suspected you when you’d done nothing but accept a friend’s offer of help, but you were soon able to put it from your mind in the wake of the enjoyment you got from staying there and hanging out with the rest of Viktor’s family. Over the few weeks you were there, you indulged Luther, chatted animatedly with Diego, and laughed with Klaus and Lila. 

But still, and despite his polite superciliousness, only the oldest brother drew your eye as soon as he entered any room.

He unnerved as well as attracted you. Sometimes, you thought you caught him watching you, peering over whatever book he was reading with a steady look of contemplation. As soon as you noticed it, however, you concluded it was probably just absent-mindedness: you found him staring into space or at one of siblings just as often. 

You found a new job by mid-November, but Viktor persuaded you to wait for your first month’s paycheck to come in before you put down a deposit on a new place, so when it came to your last night staying with them there were half-assed string lights and tinsel hung haphazardly around Hargreeves manor. 

Those on the tree and the fire crackling in the grate were the living room’s only light. In the flickering, warm glow, even Luther’s piss-poor attempt at decoration looked passable.

With Christmas music playing softly in the background, the booze had been flowing. Ill-advised mulled wine followed ill-advised eggnog followed ill-advised mimosas, leading Luther and Sloane to already stagger off to bed.

Sprawled on one of the couches, Viktor leaned towards you, lowering his voice so as not to be heard over the noise of Klaus and Diego arguing over who had most right to the final gingerbread man. 

“I'll miss you, but at least when you're gone Five's crush might calm down."

“What?” you asked, too quickly to pass off as true ignorance.

“Come on, he’s been staring at you for the past three weeks.” Viktor smiled, teasing in his tipsiness, I’ve never seen him like this,” he added, fondly.

“Yeah, whatever.” you said, brushing this off with a roll of your eyes, “If he’s been staring at me, it’s probably only because I piss him off more than anyone else in the room.”

“We all piss him off.” Viktor said, reasonably, “Everyone he likes pisses him off.”

You looked at him doubtfully.

“Pretty weird way to be.”

Viktor shrugged.

“Well, he's definitely interested. The other day he asked if there was anything between you and me. Why else would he ask me that?"

You looked at Five covertly from the corner of your eye.

“Probably just checking I’m not some gold-digger moving in on that sweet sweet Hargreeves dough.”

“I don’t think he cares about the Hargreeves dough,” Viktor replied. 

“Yeah, well,” you murmured, hoping that this would be the end of the conversation. 

But Viktor didn’t oblige you in this. The drink was making him uncharacteristically tenacious.

“He’s into you. I’m sure of it. So you don’t like him?”

You sighed deeply, your own mild intoxication making it harder to bullshit him.

“I’m not saying he isn’t hot,” (Viktor visibly cringed at this remark), “but why would I be into someone who looks at me like I’m a problem?”

“I think that’s just his face,” Viktor said, more uncertain now, “but I hear you.”

The conversation moved on, and you chatted with the family lazily as, one by one they all filtered off to bed. Soon, it was just you, Five and Viktor who, when you turned to look at him after Klaus’s departure, had fallen asleep on the couch. 

Five caught sight of this and let out a small laughing breath. At the sound, you caught his eye and smiled, sharing the moment of humor.

At this reception, he got slowly up from his armchair and moved over to your couch. His usually confident movements were smaller than usual. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought he was uncertain in this approach. 

“Too much eggnog,” you said, as he sat down, nodding at his snoring brother.

“Mhm.” Five agreed, “There’s not much of him and he’s no drinker.”

You fell back into silence. He was only a few inches from you now, and it was awkward; strangely awkward. you were just thinking how best to excuse yourself and whether you should wake Viktor, when Five spoke again. 

“So, you’re moving into your new place tomorrow?”

You cleared your throat. There should be nothing uncomfortable about this. This was just small-talk with your friend’s brother.

...Your friend's brother who apparently hated your guts yet had also appeared in your dreams virtually every night since you met him in varying states of undress.

Pulling yourself together, you turned to face him with a passable impression of ease. 

“Yeah. I’m all packed. The moving van will be here around 11.”

“Hm,” Five said.

It was a single syllable, yet its ambiguity in tone made you look at him more closely.

He noticed.

“Will you decorate the new place for christmas?” he asked, quickly.

“Probably not,” you said, trying to keep your tone conversational, “my parents are away this year so I’ll be doing Christmas alone. There’s no point in unpacking it all just to put it away again in a few days.”

Giving himself thinking time, Five shifted, letting out a little sigh as he repositioned himself. Holding his glass of whisky on his knee, he leaned back, resting his head against the couch cushions and watching you from beneath the dark hair now falling over his eyes. 

“That seems a shame,” he said, finally.

You shrugged, mirroring him unconsciously, leaning back against the cushions so that your faces were just over a foot apart

“There’s always next year.”

“You’d be welcome here.” he said, seriously, “It was nice having you for Thanksgiving.”

“I’d never assume Viktor would invite me.”

“But I’m inviting you.”

You looked at him with a confused expression, which he interpreted correctly:

“What? Is it too much to imagine I want you to be there?”

'Yes', you wanted to say.

“You called me a deluded hippy at Thanksgiving.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing. You’re a progressive…an idealistic progressive.” 

He smiled, and your eyes flicked uncontrollably down to his lips. 

“And I only said that because you called me a fascist,” he continued, unaware of your unruly gaze flicking guiltily away from his mouth, “I know you weren’t being serious, but I don’t take that sort of accusation lightly.”

He responded to the question posed by your expression:

“I spent a lot of time in 1930s Munich. Not nice.”

You stole another glance at him and caught his grim face; handsome features clouded by too many dark memories.  

“I’m sorry,” you said, more softly than you’d ever spoken to him before. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, “I guess I’ve not given you the best impression.”

“No,” you said, disclaiming the idea unconvincingly, “it’s not exactly that…”

He raised an eyebrow skeptically, and you chuckled slightly.

“Well, I got the impression you wouldn’t like me to come to another family celebration, anyway.”

“And now I want to correct that impression.” he said, seriously, “I’d like to spend christmas with you. With all of us, I mean.”

You’d been looking into his eyes for too long now, fine lashes framing them, his pupils blown in the low light. Somehow, those eyes always gave you the impression you were being assessed.

…And for the first time, it occurred to you that perhaps you were being assessed: just not in the way you’d assumed.

You blinked and looked down, though you didn’t move your head from beside his.

“Thanks Five,” you replied, after a silence of seconds that felt like minutes. “I’d like that.” 

He smiled again, the corners of his mouth just twitching. It was as if he was trying to conceal just how much you accepting his invitation meant, but the lines around his eyes betrayed him. As you smiled in return, he couldn’t contain it further, and those gorgeous lips broke into a genuine, unrestrained smile.

And somehow, over the course of the conversation, your heads had shifted to a distance of no more than six inches apart.

You could feel his exhales on your cheeks. 

“I heard you and Viktor talking tonight.” he said, voice low, “He’s right about me.”

You felt the heat rising in your cheeks as he continued.

“I don’t think you’re a problem. Far from it, actually.”

“Oh,” you said. It was all you could say as he inched ever closer to you. 

You could have counted each of his eyelashes.

“And I also know that you think I’m hot,” he said, emphasizing the word with the ghost of his usual shit-eating grin back in his eyes, “so why not take the opportunity of being under the mistletoe and kiss me?”

You looked up to where he’d indicated. Across the room, above the fireplace, there was indeed a bunch of felt mistletoe, tied with a red, velvet bow: exactly the sort of decoration Luther would buy. 

“But we’re not under the mistletoe,” you said, hoping to give your racing mind and beating heart some time to take stock of this, “it’s twelve feet away.”

Five’s eyebrows twitched, and he looked quickly from you to the mistletoe and back again.

“Let me fix that,” he said, and suddenly your upper arms were caught in his grip.

Air crushed in on you as you both disappeared in a flash of blue, and then rushed away as you rematerialized beside the fireplace, mistletoe hanging overheard. You swayed from the surprise of unexpected teleportation, holding onto Five’s lapels for dear life as you tried to stay upright.

But his arms were around you, strong and solid. And his mouth was on yours, soft and yielding. You breathed his breath; tasted the sweet burn of scotch on his lips and felt yourself kissing him back, responding to a careful passion that you could sense might go further but for his self-restraint. 

His hands left your arms and came to cup your jaw, rising gooseflesh following the path of his fingers at the nape of your neck. You shivered at the sensation and deepened the kiss, your fingers automatically starting to gently tug into his soft, eucalyptus-smelling hair.

He made a low, appreciative sound against your lips but then, perhaps conscious of his brother sleeping on the couch, broke the kiss and stepped away.

You could do nothing but stand there: surprised, dazed, yet anxious to recapture his lips. The kiss had felt like one, shining, crystalline moment as it happened, but now it had already retreated too far over the horizon for you to stay satisfied.

You opened your mouth to say…you didn’t know what, but, grinning his infuriating grin, he held up a single finger to silence you.

“I'll see you on Christmas Eve. Stay a couple of nights.”

You nodded, mutely.

“It’s forecast to be cold though, so if you get cold in one of the spare bedrooms you could always-”

Now it was your turn to hold up a finger and silence him:

“Don’t ruin this with a crappy pickup line.”

He nodded sagely.

“Noted.” 

And with a small wink, he vanished in another of those blue flashes. 

Read part 2 >>

Request masterlist >> HERE

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed): @thebearmage, @nevbrooke-555, @fiannee

NOTE: I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See masterlist for request status and more.

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagine #umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy five #umbrella academy number five #umbrella academy five x reader #umbrella academy five x you #five hargreaves x you #five hargreaves x reader #number five imagine #five hargreeves imagine #number 5 imagine #number 5 x reader #number five x you

[rinbowaman]

ok but imagine demon! heeseung and angel! beomgyu, but heeseung is actually very kind (when he's not inside you 😀) and beomgyu is actually far from innocent

mind goes brrr

Warnings: Demon HS, angel Beomgyu, smut, unprotected smut, oral sex (male receiving), near death experience, Beomgyu is a perv, and HS is both....a softy....and hard dom! total switch.

@0x1dazed - enjoy 😉

"Shoot! I'm going to be late."

Waiting for the signal to change, you await while watching the cluster of vehicles drive pass. The light flashes, signaling that you now have the right of way to walk through the crosswalk. Halfway through, you heard the screams of screeching tires as the smell of burnt rubber suddenly fills the air; your life flashes before your eyes when a red sports car slides in your direction. Having lost control over the vehicle, a female driver with a male passenger by her side, threw their phones up in the air as they tried to react in time to avoid the collision, which would no doubt result in your death. The price to pay for their careless mistake and lack of attention to the road.

Or it would have been, had you been left to brace and take on the impact of the steel frame, the red hood, and the shattered glass. Yet all was well when you found yourself suddenly out of place. Looking around at your surroundings, the area was different. Where were the bustling streets? The neon street signs? The overbearing crowd of people, and the traveling vehicles? Where was the industrial infrastructure? The steel frames of the buildings, and the modern architecture?

Rubbing your temples, your eyes winced shut as you count to ten in your head, only to become reacquainted with the satin grayed room. The silk tapestries reflected a darker mauve hue, while the embroidered thread on the wallpaper was as silver as the metal itself. There were no windows, and no doors that you could see, which compelled you to grow anxious. How are you going to leave? Where do you begin to figure out where exactly you are?

The last image that flashed through your mind was the red coupe flinging its way over to you, with the driver frantically screaming and waving her hands around, looking just as fearful as you. Could it be possible that you......

"You didn't die."

A male voice stuns you out of your thought process and triggers you to turn towards him.

"I-I'm sorry?"

Flashing a dashing smile, he walks over and stands beside you, facing the large oil painting hanging on the wall. "I said, you didn't die." he reiterates softly, glancing a quick side eye before turning back and continues to study the large art piece.

"W....who are you?....Do you know where we are?"

"Yeah, you're in Oecus Altair."

Confused, you shifted your eyes before you stuttered and bid for him to elaborate. "The what?"

"It means The Hall of the Flying Eagle. This is where the old Gods used to collect themselves and hold their councils."

Turning your attention to the painting, you catch yourself following his lead as you take time to admire the fine details of the portrayal of what seemed to be the Gods of Olympus, paying respects to one particular figure that was well known throughout mythology, Zeus.

By the raging strike of lightning balled in his grasp, you figured it had to be the King of Gods himself, raising a fist of glory or victory it seemed like, while his brethren, sisters, and all the demigods encircled his magnificent form and awe towards his awesome power.

"....How did I get here?" You asked the young man, unsure who he was or where he came from, yet you figured he had the answers that could aid your release from this unknown place, and help you return to the city.

"He brought you here....I was told to watch after you until he returns."

"He?"

"My brother."

"B-brother?"

Startling you, a deeper voice emerges from afar, chiming in the conversation. "Yes, that is correct. Younger brother, but not by much."

Presenting himself, the slightly taller male stands before you and flashes a deviously handsome smile. He was dressed fashionably Victorian and reminded you of a prince as he donned a coat of beige, embroidered in gold threaded accents, and a pair of black trousers with knee high boots to match. The frills of the satin white shirt under his royal cloth delicately peeks out from his sleeves, and above the top button on his chest. He  issues a bow, excelling in perfect form and poise, before re-engaging eye contact. 

“Oh, here we go….” the other brother huffs out as he rolls his eyes. “Could you stop with that?” 

The brazen elder walks to his younger brother’s side and rests a bent elbow on his shoulder. “I’m Beomgyu, and this is Heeseung. Now that we’ve introduced ourselves, can you take your dress off? I wanna see what it looks like under there….let me find out.” he issues as he bites his lip. 

Reaching up from behind, the younger of the two, Heeseung, smacks his palm atop Beomgyu’s head and peels him back, flinging him behind towards the wall. “Don’t mind him, he’s a bit of a pervert I’m afraid. Good fellow….just too sordid.”

“Like it’s my fault!” Coming back up to his spot, Beomgyu takes his stance next to Heeseung, policing himself up as he straightens his attire from the toss. He was quite the opposite from his sibling, wearing all black with a dark green coat that also resembled a Victorian flare. He was definitely much more outspoken and haughty, yet something about his personality was seemingly adorable. With Heeseung, he was dashing and smooth in the deliverance of chivalry and his vocabulary. Both men were strange and unlike anyone you’ve ever met before. 

“I’m sorry….I don't mean to be rude but…can you both tell me how I may leave? I have to get back.” Nervously chuckling, you crossed your arms and began to shut yourself away as you bid them to honor your request. 

“Well, there are two ways you can leave here…” Heeseung calmly states as he shifts his gaze over to the side. “One way is to just leave through that door right there…” Pointing beyond where you stood, you turned and found a door lodged into the wall. It was peculiar since just a moment ago, the door wasn’t there. Turning back around, you look at Heeseung with a questioning gaze. “Was…..did you put that there?” you softly asked as you delicately pointed to the door behind you. 

“I didn’t.” He smiles softly as he gently shakes his head. “The door just wasn’t visible until now.” 

Shrugging your shoulders, you asked him to elaborate the other option. “What is the other way of getting out of here?” 

“Well….before we get to that, let me explain what happens if you choose to go through the door…” Heeseung calmly spoke out as he took you by the hand. HIs skin was so smooth and he smelled of lavender, guiding you over to a gray loveseat, made of velvet, he sat you beside him as he cups your hand with both of his, warming them. “Cold?” 

You nodded hesitantly, watch as he softly breathes out and warms the back of your palm. It was only one exhale, and targeted directly to your hand, yet the moment it hit your skin, your entire body felt warm and soothing, almost as if you were sitting by a fire. 

“That’s –...how did you do that?” you inquire as you admire your hand and look around you. Smirking, he rests his elbow on his lap and strokes his chin as he takes in your features. “We’ll get to that here in a minute.” he softly speaks, reaching up with his free hand he gently tucks the strands of your hair behind your ear. 

“Going through the door will take you back to the place from where you came, the problem is-”

“The problem IS that you’ll be taken right back to the very spot where we plucked you out of. In your case, you’d go right back in front of that colliding vehicle and probably die.” Beomgyu boldly confirms as he makes his way over to the loveseat, and rests his boot on the arm closest to you. Leaning his forearms on his thigh, he relaxes in a slightly hunched form while staring deeply into the slight bit of cleavage that is exposed from your subtle neckline. 

Rolling his eyes, Heeseung shook his head faintly as he rubbed his temples. “....you idiot…” 

“What? It's the truth!”

“You don’t have to be so…nevermind.” Heeseung gives up and continues to explain the alternative option of gaining back your freedom, one without you dying. “The other way to leave here, is to please the descendants of the Gods.”

Confused, you looked up, shifting your sights between the two men. “Please?....In what manner?” 

“Like, sexual intercourse is a good one.” Ever as unfiltering, Beomgyu scoff’s out his defining example, causing Heeseung to snap his fingers towards him, gesturing for the young man to quiet himself.

“I’m sorry about him…” Heeseung states as he glares over to his elder brother.

"As ill mannered that came out to be, he isn't’ wrong. That is one way. It’s the most assuring way for you to get back safely. ” Heeseung delicately states as he takes your hand once more, rubbing the back of your palm with his thumb. 

“What?! I can’t do that! I don’t…what is this? Who are you? What does this…please tell me this is all a dream.” You rock your head back and forth as you rub your head. 

“But it’s not! Come on girl, it’s not like you’re a virgin, we know everything about you. We get it, you’re not a whore and you consider yourself a “respectable” woman, but give it up if you want to live.” 

“Beomgyu….”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.” 

Comforting you with his embrace, Heeseung hugs you softly as he narrows his gaze over to his brother. 

Descendants of Gods? What or where exactly are you? How could such a place be real where such a demand exist and becomes a mandatory option for a woman to free herself from this….this….

“Come on! It’s not like you’re in prison. What do you say?” Beomgyu bids, tilting his head and yearning for you to answer. 

“O-okay…..fine. Who..who are the descendents?” 

Both men share a gaze and blink before looking back at you. “Uh….it’s us….” Beomgyu states offensively. “We’re the descendents. The last ones in fact.” 

Wide eyed and shocked, you bury your face into both your palms. “.....This can’t be happening….” you mumbled into both hands. 

“Well sis, it is. So what’s it going to be? The door, or us?” 

You shoot out a faint glare at the young man and express with a slight bit of attitude as you come to a breaking point of the man’s vulgar behavior. “Obviously...I don't have much of a choice…at least you’re not leaving me any. But could you be just a little more compassionate? It’s not like I do this sort of thing on the regular.”  

Pulling you back into his chest, Heeseung swoops his hand over your neck and gently strokes your shoulder as he tenderly caresses you. “Don’t mind him. We know you’re not that type of woman, and we wish there was another way but we don’t make the rules. This is something that was established well before our time.”

Sighing, you grew curious and asked about their lineage. “So….who are you two? Where do you both come from?”

“We’re sons of the Archangel Michael, you heard of him yeah? He was also a descendent of the old Gods, and we both are his only heirs.” Beomgyu explains as he stretches his arms, cracking his neck, a pair of lush, silver and white-feathered wings extend from his back and graciously decorates his frame. 

“...I didn’t know angels were so…petulant.” you spoke in humor as you admired the shine of the transparent features, they were beautiful and magnificent.

“Well we are.” Beomgyu responds back in slight annoyance, placing his hands on his hips as he rolls his eyes faintly. “I’m the angel, whereas Heeseung here is-”

Cutting his older brother off, Heeseung’s wings shoot out from his back, gently draping over his shoulders. They were matte black, nearly dark purple and hued out a velvet texture, reflecting a sinful glow that twinkled with each feathered strand. 

“A-are you…?” Too caught up with the beauty of his Godly appearance, your question remained incomplete. Nodding, he smiles softly as he strokes his chin. “Yes beautiful…I’m the son of the Archangel Michael, and my mother was a demoness. Although, out of the two, her bloodline runs strong…it’s like that with all Hellish creatures, so I take after her quite a bit.” 

“And that’s why he resides in the scorching regions of Hell and rules over it.” Beomgyu teases in a cocky manner. 

This was so strange. The two men appeared to be the exact opposite of one another, not only that, but out of the two, Heeseung seemed far more fitting as an angel, whereas Beomgyu gave off the essence of a perverse demon, yet that wasn’t the case. Looking at them, not all was what it seemed. 

With a deep breath, you closed your eyes and sighed out once more. “Okay…so what do I do? So I can leave here in one piece.” 

“Do you know how to use that pretty mouth of yours?” Beomgyu winks out, clearly excited and eager to get things started. 

“Will you stop?” Heeseung glares once more towards his sibling. 

“Come on Heeseung. It’s not like we’re forcing her. Look, why don’t I go first, and then you can take her after?” 

Heeseung shakes his head out of bitter annoyance, before turning back to you. “Will that work for you?” 

Nodding in the affirmative, you looked over to Beomgyu, who raises his brows in excitement upon making eye contact. “..uh…yeah…i guess.” you answered, not entirely sure how you were going to be able to perform. This entire ordeal was making you more and more uncofmortable. 

“Don’t worry. Despite how he may come off, he really doesn’t know how to handle a woman. You’ll be able to hold the reins with this one.” Heeseung smirks out, teasingly winking. 

“Hey!” Beomgyu shouts out from the side. But leaves the conversation where it stands as Heeseung stands, helping you up and gently hands you off to the elder sibling. 

“Be nice to her, Beomgyu.” 

“Oh how rich! Coming from you.” Beomgyu scuffs out in response. 

Shooting his hand around your waist, Beomgyu immediately kisses you deeply as he holds you by your chin. His movements were sudden and a bit rough, you tried to match his stamina but it had been a while since you had done this. Not to mention, you never once experienced intimacy at random, only sharing it with a man you once loved, but offended by your gift when he abandoned your love for a woman who was far less reserved than you. Breaking your heart into two, you mourned and had ever since, made yourself unavailable to all prospects, solely focusing on your career. 

“Kiss me back.” Breaking the kiss for just a moment, Beomgyu gasps out his words before reconnecting the kiss while his hands swarm over your waist and lower back, pulling you closer. His wings softly flutter and suspend up in the air as he shifts both your bodies to a missionary position, with you on top. Laying his head on both his hands, he relaxes as he admires your suddenly nude body. 

“W-where are my clothes??” you gasped out, quickly covering your breasts as you wrap your arms around your chest, looking around and seeing that you were now in a different room, one surrounded by walls that were shrouded in satin curtains. The bed you both laid on was framed with both, a head and footboard that displayed large brass arches. 

“You’re in MY room.” Flexing his arms as he takes the bend in his elbows to a perfect angle as he readjust his head in his palms, he gently breathes out, enjoying the sensation of the cool air hitting his nudeness, while simultaneously feeling the warmth of your skin. 

Gulping, you felt far too nervous and shy as you realized that he was entirely nude underneath you. Flexing his member, it stiffens and taps against your rear end.

“What….stop!” 

“Come oooooon…..would you live a little?” he teases, grinning wide while eyeing your body. “Come here,” he whispers. Grabbing hold of your arms, he gently brings you to lean forward, and kisses you. 

Feeling his member stiffen, it didn’t feel as obscene as before due to the gentleness of his touch. His arms cradled you and his kiss was passionate and tender. Breaking the kiss, he speaks in a near whispering tone, one that was far different from the usual boldness it carried. 

“So....You never answered my question. Do you know how to use that pretty mouth of yours?” he asks, waving a soft smile. He had become different, still sordid but so much more angelic and tender. 

“I…um….if you’re referring to what I think you are….I’ve never done it before.” 

“I know.” he chuckles. “He never showed you…or rather, he never stuck around long enough to experience it with you.” 

Hearing his words cut you deep. He obviously was referring to your first love, the man whom you would have given up anything and everything, yet stranded you broken hearted for another woman. One with superficial assets and a large dowry. 

Shifting your gaze down, trying to avoid crying in front of him, you gulped and fought back the tears that began to sting your eyes. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” He softly remarks. “The man was undeserving of you, don’t let him be your downfall. Besides…I can show you. I don’t mind being your first.” Flashing a toothy grin, he cradles your head with his hands as he fingers his limbs through your hair. 

Kissing you once more, he slowly drags you lower by the hip, shifting you towards his cock. “Grab it.” he whispers out. 

Taking it in your hand, you merge lower until his impressive length rested against your chest, right in between your breasts. 

“Kiss it.” he gently tells you, still laying his head on his palms. Doing as he bids, you kiss the tip, it seemed appropriate considering it appeared swollen. Once you had pressed your lips against his skin, it felt right…so right. Instinctively, your mind and body knew what to do, and you continued to place your soft kisses, surrounding the head, lowering it down the midriff of his shaft, and finishing off by placing them on the base of his groin. 

“Thaaaaat’s it princess. Now put it in your mouth, start off with the tip of it.” he slightly chokes out, enveloped by the wonderful sensation he was feeling as you swallow the head of his member, and began sucking on it. Your tongue rolling all over its surface and the grooves of its form, you started to fit more of him in.

“Wow…you’re a natural. Don’t need me to tell you what to do now, huh?” 

Subtly shaking your head, you continue without pause. Your body just knew how to take over, and you did. You did exactly what your heart and soul told you to do, and he loved every single moment of it. Stroking in his member repeatedly, you take in saliva that droop out of the crevices of your mouth as you stretch as wide as you could to fit his girth. The scene became messy, though in the most sensual and beautiful way possible. Slurping, you pick up the pace and combine the efforts of your hand as you swirled your palm in half rotation near the base, while your mouth took on the rest. 

“Ah…good….good girl…fuck…just like that.” tilting his head back, his mouth remains wide open as he gasps out his groans. The more evident it became that he was enjoying it, the more it motivated you to continue and do more. Popping out the tip from the corner of your mouth, you lightly tap the tip of his bulge against your tongue, moaning as you stuffed him back inside and twirled your tongue along the grooves of veins and muscle that decorated it. 

“Oh shit…” he gasped out, quickly shifting his hands and establishing a grip on the sides of your head as he pinned you down, forcing you to take all of him in. Your gag reflex becomes triggered, yet you hold yourself well by steadying yourself as you taste the saltiness of his essence coating the muscles of your throat. His cock twitches against your tongue, and slowly, he lifts your face up and away, allowing you to relax your jaw. Fully exiting your mouth, he chuckles out and re-establishes his comfy position. 

“You did well. It’s too bad old boy left when he did, he’s missing out.” 

A small smile forms on your face as you hover over his body and crawl towards his face. Kissing him, you were slowly reaching down for it, preparing to take him in once more, when his hand gently grabbed onto yours.

“As much as I want to…angels are not allowed.” with a disappointing look on his face, he gives off a half smirk as he shifts his gaze onto the ground. “It’s a rule…only archangels, one like my father, have the freedom to do so. It’s a status that I have yet to gain, but will someday.” shifting his gaze back up to meet your eyes, he shoots his hands around your waist. “When I do…might come and find you again.” He states before kissing you once more, when suddenly you felt the room spinning and a moment of pure darkness shrouds you. The instant the air clears, you find yourself in another room, one that was much different from Beomgyu’s personal palace. The walls were draped with black satin, matching the black silk of the bedding, which was all framed by brass ornaments that displayed symbolic Gothic theme’s. 

“Did you have fun with Beomgyu?” his voice shoots from behind as he walks up, admiring your nude body as you attempt to cover yourself with the sheets. 

“Um…yeah…learned a thing or two…” you jest as you look up at him. Shocked, you slightly gasped out as you saw a change in Heeseungs demeanor, his face was much more stern. His eyes were fierce, and darkened with a sense of dominance and lust like you have never seen before. Biting down on his lip, he flares off a look of hunger and desire, it was far too intense. You couldn’t help but think that the white and gold coat of his suddenly looked far too light for his countenance. 

Sitting next to you, he raises a hand and gently tucks your hair behind your ear once more. “Scared?” he asks. 

Trying to steady your breath, your chest heaves deeply as you glance over from the side and look at him. His smirk was devious and rather eerie, but still dashing. Softly chuckling, he leans in and aims for your neck. With long strokes of his tongue, and the latching of his lips, he soothes your neck line with the tenderness of his mouth. Your breathing calms down, until he starts to grab on to your waist, pulling you in against him as he kept on with feasting on your throat. 

“H-Heeseung….” you whimpered out. 

“Shhh…enjoy it.” with one final kiss on your smooth skin, he darkly whispers. “I know I will.” 

Your body is suddenly suspended and laid back on the bedding as his weight lays atop you the missionary position. Just like his elder brother, his clothes vanish in a blink of an eye, and you feel the coolness of his skin as he drapes over your body. His wings remain extended out, and flaps vigorously as he traps you in his arms. He was demanding and strong, yet with the way he slightly dipped his hips low and waved them against your groin, you found yourself to be less scared and more focused on his touch. Whimpering out his name, he hushes you tenderly. 

“Shh…pretty girl…I’ll make you feel like a queen.” Kissing you, he gently bites down on your lip. “We’re going to fuck just like demons do.” With one last kiss, he props himself on his knees, and swings your leg over, forcing you to lay on your side. He grabs onto your rear cheek, and slowly, he inserts himself. “It’s been a while, but I promise you I aint rusty.” he teases, pushing the tip of his throbbing cock in. You quickly deduced that despite being the younger of the two, and a demon, Heeseung’s size was supreme. Beomgyu’s length and girth was absolutely nothing to scoff at, in fact, he was perfect. But with Heeseung, you now know that there was going to be pain with pleasure as you felt the tear of your stretch while enveloping his length. Jutting in, he continues to push through the friction of your entry as he finally mashes the base of his groin and testicles against your folds. 

“Oh wow…you feel really nice.” he gasps out, eyeballing you as he raises his eyebrows in surprise. “All the way in princess…you ready?” he cocks out as he bites down the corner of his lip. You weren’t sure if he was genuinely asking, or if he really did care, nonetheless, you hesitantly nod and felt the shoretend sense of relief as he starts to slide out, only to ram himself back in with a vengeance. 

Thrusting violently, he goes in hard and deep, not at all starting off with a slow or gentle pace. Bucking his hips with high energy, he slaps into your rear cheek as he throbs and twitches his cock inside, making sure you get the full effect. 

“Ah! Please! N-not….not too rough! Ugh! You’re breaking me!” 

“Aww…too much baby?” he teases. Leaning in, burying his member deep inside, he shoots out a ball of spit on your cheek, only to lick it back up before whispering in your ear. “You like it…don’t you?” the tone in his voice was dark…too dark. 

“You miss being fucked…dont you? Come on baby, say it. I know you’re dark and nasty….” 

Feeling how deep his cock was reaching, he rotates his hips as he drills himself deeper. Too deep. 

“How badly do you wanna get fucked baby?”

Gaining enough stamina to issue a voice, you caved in. He was right, just because you weren’t spreading yourself thin among the male populace, it didn’t mean that when alone, and at night, your thoughts grew wild and you yearned for someone like him to plunge into you. He was ruthless, dementing, and brutal with his performance….and it was exactly what you needed. 

“Yes…yes….”

“Yes what?” He smirks as he bids you to elaborate.

“Yes….please…please fuck me…oh God….fuck me hard.”

Leaning all of his weight on top, he cradles his arms at the sides of your head and kisses you. The kiss was the only tender nature of his performance, everything else was grim and cruel. “Come here baby, let me give you just what you need.” he whispers out, firmly grabbing hold of your neck and starts back up in thrusting. Each time he thrusted his cock back in, you nearly saw stars. He was going in so hard, so fast, and was animalistic. Digging his fingernails in, he leaves his mark along your neckline while he harshly sucks your breasts. He fucked you, for who knows how long, all you knew and cared about was that he kept going. 

Flipping you over, he raises your hips and smacks your derriere, before placing a dozen kisses on each cheek. “Tell me how badly you want it.” Admitting another slap, he watches your rear end jiggle as your body shakes from the rigorous effects of his harshness. 

“Ugh! I want it…I want it so bad…please…please…do everything to me.” 

Slapping his hand on the back of your neck, he latches a new hold on you as his free hand grips your waist, keeping you still as he slides right back in. Watching your rear end pop against his groin from the hard smacks, he fucks…and fucks….and fucks. He pumps his cock deep, and flexes it while it rests inside. He expands your walls and tears you open more and more, until finally…

“Fuck!!” slapping his hands on your waist, he leans forward and rests his forehead against your back, his mouth gasps open as his lips gently brush against your skin. Pushing out the last drop of his seed, he slowly exits from your cavity, yet remains holding you still to admire the pure white thickness that oozes out of your slit. 

“Beautiful.” he softly remarks. Dropping his weight back down on you, he spoons you from behind and nibbles on your ear. Catching your breath, you commit a half turn to face him. “So….is that it? Will I be able to go home now?”

Keeping his eyes closed, he keeps himself in the state of relaxation as he hugs you. “Mmhmm…soon.” 

Shifting your gaze down, you felt the need to get up and move, yet there was a sliver of your heart that didn’t want this moment to end. Not with Heeseung, or Beomgyu. Resting your head against your elbow, you let out a bittersweet sigh. 

Reaching around, gently tapping the tip of your nose, Heeseung rests the tip of his finger against your lips before mumbling into the smooth silky strands of your hair. 

“If you’re not against the idea…and are over the fool that deserted you….maybe I’ll come visit you….tell you more bedtime stories.” 

You laughed a little, before he continued. “Maybe I’ll show you some magic tricks…and teach you some things that Beomgyu can’t.” 

Sensing the looseness of his demonic presence, you felt that he was coming back to that gentle and kind being that he was when he introduced himself. “We’ll see…maybe…” you softly respond back with, flaring your own teasing sense into your words.

Chuckling, he slowly wraps his arm around your waistline.

“Or maybe…” Licking the helix of your ear, he whispers as he reaffirms his grasp around your neck.

...........

“I just won't let you go home tonight…” 

Enjoyed this piece? Show love and treat your girl to a cup of coffee. ♥️ 

☕ Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/reinbow

#heeseung x reader #heeseung scenarios #heeseung smut #enha x reader #heeseung hard hours #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung fanfic #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enha heeseung #enha drabbles #enha imagines #enha smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen heeseung #enhypen scenarios #enhypen au #txt #txt beomgyu #beomgyu smut #tomorrow x together #beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu hard thoughts

[thewritetofreespeech]

May I request Jack The Ripper and Hades with an s/o who's a seamstress?

“Jack, please hold still.” [Y/N] insisted as they stuck another pin into the seam line. “There’s a very good chance I could stick you if you keep moving.”

“Apologies, dearest. I am just excited.”

Jack knew of his lover’s skills with a needle & thread. Almost as deft and clean as his work with a knife. However, he had always been too shy to ask them to make him anything. Feeling it would be wrong to except a piece of their art just because they were a couple.

But when they offered to make him a new jacket, he leapt at the chance. Literally.

“I don’t know why you are so excited. It’s just a suit.” They replied with a chuckle.”

“Yes, but it is a suit that you made. By one of the finest seamstress/tailors in London.”

“I’m barely the finest in this borough.” [Y/N] said, sticking in another pin. “Not if Mr. Hertsmere has anything to say about it.”

“He won’t for long.” Jack commented off handedly, before he grinned again at his reflection in the mirror at his new suit.

“Ok. Now go take it off, carefully, so the pins don’t come out. I should have it later next week.”

Jack practically skipped off the dressing pedestal and took off the garment with expert care.

The suit was finished later that week, right on the dot, and Jack felt like he was the best dressed man in all of London. No, the world.

Mr. Hertsmere certainly thought so. Or, at least that was what Jack thought to believe when he was kind enough to spray his blood across the wall, and not his new fine suit.

“My love, you know I love you, right?”

“Yes.” [Y/N] replied. Continuing to read their book, despite hearing Hades come in the room. Their relationship was comfortable enough that they didn’t have to acknowledge each other every time they came into a room.

“That I would do anything for you and that you are the light of my life?”

“Yes….” This was getting a little suspicious, however.

“That I appreciate everything you do for me, and I treasure every gift you’ve ever given me?”

“Hades what are you….” They finally turned around and saw Hades standing there.

Battered and bloody, but physically fine, holding what was left of his jacket. “There was a bit of an accident when I was fighting the Titans…..”

[Y/N] sighed. “An accident, eh?” They asked as they stood up. “And how did you manage that?”

“Technically, it wasn’t me. I didn’t ruin it. The Titans did.”

“Of course,” they replied, and took the scraps in their hands. “There’s nothing left here for me to salvage. I take it you brought it back to show me it was damaged and not lost?” That might have been a subconscious way of thinking, but yes. [Y/N] sighed again. “I’ll make you another.”

“Thank you [Y/N].”

“Go wash up and I’ll have it finished by then. But Hades, if you ruin this one, I will never forgive you.”

Hades nodded and went to wash & get changed. He never let anything happen to his clothes again. Too afraid that his love would never speak to him again if he ruined another coat.

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers) #record of ragnarok #hades #record of ragnarok hades #record of ragnarok scenarios #scenarios #record of ragnarok imagine #imagine #ror hades #hades x reader #record of ragnarok hades x reader #jack the ripper #ror jack the ripper #jack the ripper x reader #record of ragnarok x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie

[unifox]

Sunset lover

~Pairing: gn!Reader x Mingyu

~Genre: fluff / angst / NonIdolAU

~Warnings: Mentions of food, beach, jealousy, feelings and confusion, overthinking (don't even know what should and shouldn't be a warning at this point)

~Words: 2,5 k 

~Summary: When your cousin decides to ruin family bonding time by bringing two friends to your shared beach house, you unexpectedly find a lover in his childhood friend

a/n: SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG. It's finally here!!! Wonwoo just became a background character who almost doesn't appear but yeah.

Also, regarding the boy's ages: Cheol, Mingyu and Wonwoo are the same age (one year younger than reader) and cousins May and Rina are like 4 and 7 years younger than reader, respectively.

Inpired by the songs Sunset Lover - Petit Biscuit, Fuck It- BoTalks and Bends - Carly Rae Jepsen

Taglist + anon list open! ~Foxy🦊

Read the intro! | Navigation | Masterlist

When the four of you reached the food trucks, the place was full. You all walked around trying to see what kind of food there was but ended up settling for hamburgers. Rina said she wanted a regular cheeseburger and stepped out of the line to look for an empty table.

You and your cousin May fell into a comfortable conversation, talking about whatever while Mingyu stood behind you two, just listening.

Every once in a while May would sneak glances at Mingyu who attentively listened to you talk. After ordering, May decided to stay with her sister and keep her company, leaving the two of you to wait at the pickup area.

"So... Mingyu, how's life abroad? Making many new friends? Are you living alone?" You bombarded the boy with questions. It's been around three years since you last saw each other and it was a pleasant surprise to see the skinny tall boy coming home all grown up, strong, mature... and really handsome

"It's been pretty good! I live with a roommate, his name is Jeonghan. He taught me a lot haha... My classes are also fine but I'm still trying to get used to using another language whenever I leave the house" He says proudly

"Got a girlfriend?" You thread carefully

But the man smirks

"No, I only got eyes for you"

You roll your eyes smiling. He's flirty now too

"As if" you both giggle together when you get called by the staff of the food truck

After eating Mingyu excuses himself and heads to the toilet. When he's out of earshot, both your cousins turn to you and smirk.

"He's totally crushing you"

"YES. He's totally like a puppy looking at its owner... Maybe you should own him..."

You choke on your drink, almost spitting it

"Girlie are you ok? Are you guys even hearing yourselves? Mingyu's just being nice" You try to recompose yourself

"Ugh blind. He's literally giving you heart eyes, and won't stop looking at you"

"Maybe he looks up to me? Cause I'm older" You try to reason "He's just flirty. Maybe he's like this to all girls"

"He wasn't flirty with us" Rina speaks while gathering the trash

"Maybe because you're six years younger than him?" You speak with a duh tone

"Wow y/n, you're really blind. He's into you, that's why he's flirting... Oh he's back"

If Mingyu notices the sudden silence between the three of you, he doesn't mention it. You all stand up and look for a place to get dessert but the only thing on your mind is what Rina said

He's into you

What about you? Are you also into him? I mean, he's cute but you never saw him as more than your little cousin's (even if only one year difference) friend. It felt kinda wrong to crush a younger guy when you were a teenager but now... In your twenties... Does it really matter?

Mingyu notices that you're lost in thoughts and every once in a while he links your pinkies in order to bring you back and get you to not lose yourself in the crowd of people

Add caring to the list of green flags in Mingyu.

After that night, things seem to have changed a bit

Mingyu seems to be getting closer to you and also seems to be spending more time with you than with his friend, who actually invited him to the house.

You're cooking. Mingyu is there to help

You're cleaning up the kitchen. Mingyu offers to do the dishes

You're going to the beach earlier. Mingyu is ready to make you company

Mingyu was everywhere you were. Maybe your cousins were right, maybe he's... a tiny bit into you? Let's find out

One afternoon, everyone decided to stay back in the house and just lounge by the pool, but not you. You decided to take a walk on the beach. And of course, so did Mingyu.

You were a bit skeptical regarding his (and your) feelings so you came up with an idea. See if he gets jealous.

"So, Mingyu... Tell me more about that roommate of yours... Jeonghan was his name?"

"Yeah, Jeonghan" Mingyu liked talking about his friend but you seemed too interested in him and it was making him feel weird

"What's he like? Is he older?"

"Yes, he's really nice and caring but he's a menace sometimes. He's a year older than you"

"He's also from Korea?"

"Yeah..."

"Oh is he single?" You asked but this time looking deep into his eyes

Oh, how he could get lost in them. It took a lot of strength to not kiss you right now

"Hm why"

"Oh you know... weighing my options... When Cheol goes to visit you I could tag along and... meet some guys" you said looking at the beautiful sunset. Oh, he was jealous.

"Why not me?" Mingyu didn't miss a beat

"What?"

"Why not me? Go out with me. We're not kids anymore. I'm not a kid anymore" he emphasized stopping in his tracks to fully look at you

You stopped not expecting him to be so forward with his answer and feelings. Turning around he looked... ethereal

His light clothes swayed with the sea breeze and the pinks and oranges of the sunset complimented his tanned skin so well. You know Mingyu was good looking but you didn't realize he was THAT good looking

"I... You're..." You were caught off guard and didn't know how to respond.

Mingyu sighed loudly at your statement, or rather your lack of a response.

"Well, if you didn't like me that way you should just tell me. Please don't lie to make me feel better" he looked uncertain about what he said himself but turned around and walked back to the house.

Why did you say that?

When you returned to the house, the boys had gone to the market to buy more snacks and drinks

You couldn't even say sorry because he wasn't there

After getting in, you went straight to the room you shared with your cousins. They both stood in the living room and exchanged concerned looks since you didn't even spare them a glance.

Why did you say that? You didn't like him? That wasn't true and you knew it. What was it then? Afraid of being lonely? Were you being too sensitive?

Those thoughts made the tears start to flow

"y/n? Are you- oh my god" May immediately got inside after seeing you crying sitting on your bed "What happened?"

"Did something happen with Mingyu? When he came back he seemed upset as well..." Rina added and that made you cry harder

May hugged you and let you cry until you were too tired to do anymore. When you finally calmed down you told them everything, from the night you went to the food trucks to the moment he left you on the beach

Lonely am I being sensitive? You are the sensitive one Where are you tonight? Where's your home tonight?

Mingyu didn't mean it, but he couldn't help but put his walls up

He didn't want to be hurt anymore

When you guys were younger he saw that you looked at him the same way you looked at Seungcheol. Like a little brother, which he didn't really like. He desperately wished time would change the way you saw him and he left it up to fate

He went to uni abroad while you took yours in your home country and now it's his vacation and he's back home. Of course, he knew you met other people and he did as well, but sometimes he wished it was you there, in his arms

And now he knows that you don't want him, and it breaks him.

Of course, it crossed his mind that maybe you both could be together temporarily like some sort of summer love but he didn't think he could handle the aftermath when he left again.

He was upset but what could he do? He couldn't just stay away from you when you were living under the same roof for 2 weeks but he could distance himself a bit. Seeing you would definitely make his heart hurt more.

Mingyu didn't realize that he was being awfully quiet during the market trip, which was very unlike his upbeat puppy personality

"What happened to you?" Even quiet Wonwoo went to check on him

"Nothing"

"yeah sure" Wonwoo shrugged but Cheol turned around to put his hand on Mingyu's chest to stop him

"Are you messing around with my cousin?" Seungcheol asked skeptical

"What? No I-" Mingyu tried to defend himself

"Then what? Explain yourself. We got time" Cheol motioned for them to sit on the small bench at the market's exit. Popping open a can of beer and motioning for both friends to sit as well

"Well..."

"Well, I'm screwed. I guess I do find him endearing but at the moment I couldn't say anything. I do like him a lot but I never considered... dating him. I'm not opposed to the idea tho"

"Just go on a date with him. What could go wrong? Just go for it" May said

"What if things don't work out and we get awkward? I don't want to ruin things for Cheol-" You started to panic again

"Can you stop overthinking for one second? Just do it, the rest is the rest" Rina exclaimed "Gosh, I will charge next time for the therapy session" She smirked when you started giggling. At least you weren't crying anymore

"I guess you're right. Thanks. What would I do without you two" You said hugging them both. "Now let's go, you'll both help me with dinner"

"Oh no..."

You dragged both girls to the kitchen and gave them instructions to prep the tomatoes and arugula to make with pasta. You went to freshen up quickly, getting rid of your crying face and went back to help them and cook the pasta.

When dinner was almost done the boys arrived with more bags than anticipated.

"Sorry we took too long. We got some extra stuff because Mingyu said he was gonna prepare a special meal for us tomorrow" Cheol announced as he set the bags near the counter. The other two did the same and Mingyu started to put the ingredients away.

The girls moved to set up the table, asking Wonwoo to help by taking the heavy stack of plates to the dining area. Cheol gave you a soft smile and moved out of the kitchen as well.

"I'm-"

"I'm sorry I acted that way" Mingyu cut you off "Actually I wanted to talk to you about it" Oh no, he thought "You caught me off guard, I won't lie, but I wanted to give it a try. You and I"

Mingyu stopped what he was doing. Maybe he was imagining things

"We could go on a date tomorrow if you'd like it... I mean, if you're still willing to"

"Yes- I mean. Yeah, I would like that" He said without hesitation

"Oh, great" you have him a shy smile " Can you help me take this pan to the table?"

"Yeah, let's go" he moved to help you smiling brightly. Maybe things were starting to work out

The next day arrived and passed as normal. In the afternoon you all decided to go grab some ice cream and you and Mingyu decided to separate from the rest to go on your date.

"You didn't have to pay you know? I'm the one who has a job and not a part-time" you smirked as he passed you the waffle cone

"I'd be rude if I didn't pay on our first date" he retorted

"Well thank you, what a gentleman" you giggled as he sat opposite you. The ice cream parlor was daily empty, but it was good because it gave you some privacy.

"Mingyu" you started "I wanted to be honest with you. I think you're cute and overall a great person, but I would be lying if I said I ever thought about dating you. I don't see you as a kid anymore, you've grown into someone so admirable... you grew up so well. Your confession wasn't something I was expecting but I guess the idea of us became... surprisingly pleasant" you said looking at him

"Y/n, thank you. For being honest with me. I- I have liked you since we were teens and when you didn't respond I put my walls up. I didn't mean to be rude to you, I guess I was just scared that you would reject me. I shouldn't have acted that way I'm sorry... but I'm happy. I'm happy that you're willing to give us a chance" he smiled. A smile you could definitely get used to.

"Well lover boy, how about that special recipe Cheol said you were going to prepare?" You said and he smirked

"Get really to taste the best dish you've ever had. I'll sweep you off your feet and you'll definitely fall for me this time" he said proudly, taking a bite of his cone and having some ice cream on the corner of his mouth

"I'll be looking forward to it" you said while grabbing a napping and cleaning the corner of his mouth.

He could get used to that

Your days at the beach were ending and your dates with Mingyu were making your relationship become stronger.

"Mingyu what are your plans when we get back to the city?" Tina asked as you all were lying on beach towels under the sunshade.

"I'll go visit my family for a while, my grandma lives on the countryside" he answered and took a peek at the magazine you were reading. Your head rested on his stretched arm and he moved you to basically lay on his chest since his arm was starting to feel numb.

"Before you go back to uni, could you spare me some time?" You asked looking up at him. Even under the sunglasses, he could see your doe eyes

"Anything for you" he smiled

"Ew, don't say those things in front of us" Seungcheol made a face of disgust and gave Mingyu a slight slap. "Anyways, anybody wants to go take a dive? I'm melting"

"Yeah let's go" Wonwoo said standing up, as well as Rina. May also stood up but reached for her purse.

"Should I get us snacks? That tent is selling French fries"

"Oh yes, please get us two portions! The boys eat too much" you responded sitting up as your dousing just nodded and went on her way.

"Before I move back I'll take you on a really nice date. Maybe at your house? I could cook again since you liked it so much" Mingyu smirked as he resumed your previous conversation

"What are you implying Mr. Kim?" You side-eyed him but smiled after "That would be nice, I'm sad you'll have to leave me soon" you pouted

"Don't worry, I'll come back running for my girlfriend. You could also visit me you know..."

"Oh? Am I your girlfriend now? Since when?" You raised your eyebrows at him. It was amusing to poke fun at him, his cute pouting was a sight you loved

"You don't want to be my girlfriend?"

You pecked those pouty lips. You were both being really cliche, but with him, things were beginning to feel right.

You pecked those pouty lips. You were both being really cliche but with him, things were beginning to feel right.

"Yes, I would love that"

I'm sorry about this open ending! I got stuck on this one and had to extend it because I wasn't liking it at all. I hope you guys like it! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Stay tuned for the Wonwoo version!!!

#svt fanfic #svt x reader #svt fluff #svt #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #mingyu fluff

[pastafossa]

Charlie Cox experience at Philly Fan Expo 2023

So LET”S TALK ABOUT ME MEETING CHARLIE. I’m actually going to make two posts - this one just about my experiences with Charlie, because they were incredibly meaningful and deserve their own post, and then another one about the rest of the con!

I’m going to talk about Charlie first, because of how amazing the experience was, one of the best I’ve had, especially at the autograph table. I’ve done photos, gotten autographs and such before from other celebs - from niche voice actors I loved to people like David Tennant - but this felt Really Really Big. Obviously, I was nervous as all hell because holy shit Charlie Cox, my favorite actor whose work altered the course of my life. I won’t lie - I’d been practicing what to say to him in case I freaked out, but I’m happy to say that everyone who reassured me it would go great, because he was so, so genuine and kind, were right.

The photo op happened first (and thank you to everyone on tumblr guiding me where to go, cause I was LOST about where that was happening), and that went fast. By that point in the con hall, I’d already ditched my Jessica Jones jacket and gloves cause holy shit it’s hot and I am a creature of snow and ice, and my hair was a mess, but honestly I didn’t care, cause there he is. You don’t get long, but he made the most of it and he was SO sweet. Ya’ll, he asked my name, said my name as he shook my hand, and called me ‘my dear’ in that beautiful voice.

I was literally on the moon, but it was time for the big question:

Will he hold the red thread from TRT?

So in a quiet, nervous, soft author voice, I asked, ‘would you be ok with holding this end of the thread?’

HE FUCKING DID.

HE HELD IT.

HE HELD. THE. RED. THREAD.

I’m fairly certain he doesn’t know about the fic at this point - he wasn’t sure where to hold it until I told him, but he loved that it lit up! AND THEN HE PUT HIS ARM AROUND ME AND I GOT TO PUT MY ARM AROUND HIM BACK.

I’m fairly certain I’m dead in the photo. My soul had left my body. I had ascended. I saw Jesus and he looked like Charlie. I had achieved fic author heights never imagined. My brain filled with enough serotonin and dopamine to sink a ship. I didn’t care that I was hot and sweaty or that my hair was messy or that my cosplay didn’t work out like I’d planned. I had been blessed.

also look at that forearm holy shit

I floated outta that gd room ya’ll. I’m pretty sure @wonderlandmind4​ did the same. WE FROLICKED OUT OF THAT HALL LIKE

But things got even better at the autograph table, and I had one of the most touching experiences ever.

not me tearing up thinking about it.

That line was long, but I kept getting glimpses of him and I could already tell he was enjoying interacting with people, and he was making sure everyone got their bit of time with him instead of letting anyone rush people through. He was so happy looking, laughing and grinning, high fives and fist bumps for kids, chatting with fans. Which made me feel a little more confident.

I know some people wondered if I’d tell him about TRT, and I’d already decided I wasn’t going to. Instead, I really, really wanted just a second to tell him what his work as Daredevil had meant for me, as someone who became disabled around the same time Matt did as a kid, and who related to... a lot of what Matt went through in the show. I’d practiced it over and over again, and there was only a fifty percent chance I wouldn’t start crying while telling him, and I wasn’t even sure I’d have time to tell him depending on how much time we had.

He made time.

I got up to him with my art print holy shit he’s even more beautiful in person and his eyes are STUNNING. He said hi, and asked my name so he could personalize the autograph if I wanted (DUH, YES PLEASE), and he apologized about the line after we shook hands. I jokingly told him it was fine since I’d driven hours to get here. A little time in line wasn’t a bother. He even loved one of the buttons on my lanyard - the button of Matt wearing a heart crown specifically! And as he was writing, I knew this was my chance to tell him. He was still signing, so I just decided to go for it in case I ran out of time.

“I just wanted to tell you,” I said quietly, “as someone who became disabled as a kid around the same age as Matt did—”

And then he did something I didn’t expect, something I’d rarely seen anyone do, famous or not, and something I’d never had an actor or artist do for me.

He immediately set down the pen, leaned in close over the table, and made direct eye contact, while giving me the most genuine, gentle, encouraging smile I’d ever seen.

In that moment, I knew everything in him was listening, that he cared about what I was about to say and recognized that this was important to me, and that he’d closed the distance to make this conversation just... us. It felt personal in a way I’ve never experienced at a con or signing.  

Just like that, I wasn’t afraid to tell him what I’d wanted to.

“And as someone who related to... a lot of what Matt went through, his struggles in the show, and especially the dark parts of season 3,” I said, more confidently now, “I wanted you to know that all the work you put in, the way you played it, the way you played Matt and treated it seriously, seeing that helped me process and heal from a lot of my own trauma and pain over what I’ve gone through with my illnesses. What you did was important and it really helped me. So I wanted you to know that, how much that meant to me, and to say thank you.”

The whole time I spoke to him, he kept direct eye contact, and didn’t look away once. He didn’t get antsy, or look like he wanted me to hurry up (which I’d have understood, cause damn, these are long days for him). He listened, fully engaged and leaning in, his eyes warm and soft and kind but incredibly serious. I’m not sure how often he’s been told something like this—a lot, I expect; his portrayal was just that good, and I know it was important to a lot of fans—but what I was trying to tell him clearly meant something to him. I felt heard, seen, and understood.

Charlie really does care about his fans. It isn’t an act. I’m sure of it now.

“Thank you, truly,” he said, just as quietly but with that honest smile, eye crinkles and all, and seeing it in person, that close up, I swear the room felt ten times brighter. “Thank you for coming to tell me that. It means a lot, the idea that something I did meant so much and that it could help you. I’m so grateful that you were able to come visit and tell me.”

We shook hands after that. He wished me a good day and I told him thank you again, and that was that. The interaction only lasted maybe a minute, but it meant the absolute world to me, as did what he’s done as Daredevil. And now he knows that.

#Philly Fan Expo #Charlie Cox #Daredevil #he HELD THE THREAD ya'll #my fanfic author life is now complete #and honestly as a fan i don't know if any other experience will ever top those moments I got with Charlie #he is so so kind and warm and wonderful #the way he immediately stopped and gave me his full attention when i started to tell him what it meant #i just had to stop for a second and collect myself because just... #he was *listening* and despite all the noise and chaos i suddenly had his full attention #the way he leaned in so the conversation felt like it was just us and the way he cocked his head and focused on me like #i can't think of a single celeb or interaction like that where i've felt that much like what i was saying to him mattered #(that's not dissing the other actors and celebs i've met. they've all been wonderful! but charlie definitely has a special kindness i think) #and i can now say having been that close to him and having spoken with him over something fairly serious #he is literally one of the kindest celebs i've met and the most genuine #you can literally see the warmth in his eyes when he looks at you. he's *legitimately* happy you're there to talk to him or see him #maybe one day he'll find out about TRT. i'm honestly not sure #but even if he doesn't at least I got a chance to tell him how much what he's done has helped me heal #from a lot of really... really hard things in my life #and according to a friend (who I didn't even know was there but spotted me talking to Charlie from another line!) #Charlie did indeed stay until WAY late signing everyone's stuff so that no one missed an autograph #he said his estimation of Charlie just shot way up because even hours later he was still taking his time with each fan that came up #Charlie has absolutely solidified as my favorite actor and one of the nicest people I've had the pleasure of meeting

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

I recently reblogged this thread recently and I have to say, it's mind blowing to me. This is a great thread but looking through the replies is mind numbing. Women have children. Aside from RARE exceptions this is a biological fact. The thing that causes this to happen? Sexual Intercourse. The thread is shown here:

Now. Let me start this off by saying that I don't have solid beliefs when it comes to Pro Life or Pro Choice. I really don't. I know several people I follow are pro life and would not be happy with me saying that but I mostly sit on the fence for this one. I lean more towards the Pro Life side of things but I'm honestly not 100% pro life. And I'm not good at articulating why. But that's something I personally have to live with.

However the reason I'm making this post is because of some comments I saw. Specifically from one person. Now, I didn't see the things they were replying too, but I can still approach what was said in the comments as they were statements that need no context to understand. I'll address them kind of together but also separately.

Here are the comments:

So let me make this blatantly clear. All of this is bullshit. All of it.

A fetus is a HUMAN fetus first and foremost. Meaning it is human from conception. And yes. Children have more rights than adults. Why? Because you can get charged for neglect towards a child. As well as other things. Kids have varying protections under the law that adults do not. So it's not, "More rights than a regular person". It's "More legal rights and protections than an adult."

A fetus is NOT a corpse. And even in the case of a miscarriage, there should still be a level of dignity given to the lost life.

"By allowing people to chose to terminate a pregnancy, that ensures both the parent and the child have equal human rights" No it doesn't. It means that the child has no right to life and the mother has a right to destroy said child before it is delivered. Even after said child is viable. When functionally a fetus is viable after a point in time where it can survive outside the womb. If it has to come out either way at that point, why kill it? Oh right, because you don't view it as a living human.

This here is a load of shit. Bodily autonomy stops the moment another life is added to the equation. "It means no one can use your body without your consent."

*SIGH*

YOU LITERALLY CONSENT TO THE CHANCE OF HAVING A CHILD THE MOMENT YOU DECIDE TO HAVE SEX. EVERY THING YOU DECIDE TO DO IN YOUR LIFE HAS CONSEQUENCES! IF YOU WANT TO HAVE SEX AND NOT HAVE KIDS GET FUCKING FIXED! And if you can't get fixed, the reason is because doctors have been SUED for letting people get fixed when they were too young to realized they'd eventually want kids. And after a LOT of legal issues most doctors will no longer fix people under a certain age without X amount of kids. Unless you opt to freeze your eggs first. However there are doctors that will still do it.

If you are so concerned, find those doctors. THEN when you decide ok now I'm ready, I hope you lose in court against the doctors or hospital you sue.

Nah. This is the sentiment of MOST pro choice advocates. It used to be "Safe, Legal, and Rare." Because back then, we understood life started at conception but very FEW exceptions were made. We did NOT call it "Just a clump of cells". We did not call it, "Just some tissue". It was, "As early as possible" "Not after a certain point" and "Put it up for adoption if you change your mind".

Now a days, it's "It's not a life at all, it's just some tissue, and it's only a baby when I PERSONALLY decide it is". <You all admitting you don't care about science or logical fact. It's human in it's developmental stages from the moment the egg is fertilized. And the only reason people DON'T want that to be the understanding is because people think it's their right to have consequence-less sex and have zero repercussions at all. It's people not wanting to take responsibility for their actions.

And here's the kicker. I have casual sex. I LOVE SEX. However, if I EVER got a girl preg and she kept it, I'd be a responsible adult and help take care of it. As the child would be half mine.

And contrary to the idea that denying a woman's ability do "Chose" is somehow, "Boiling women down to just their ability to give birth", No it's not. Not even remotely. It's just saying if you make a choice, and that choice results in a new life being created, you opted to make the choice that created it. It's not making women less than. It's holding men AND WOMEN accountable for their actions.

However, there is another element to this too. Which is another fun part of this WHOLE BS narrative. MEN are the only ones expected to have to be responsible. Both by society AND by law. They also, (in the west) do not have legal say over keeping the kid if the mother wants to get rid of it. So basically, your stance is probably, "Women should have carte blanche to have sex with NO consequences what so ever, but if the mother decides to keep her child the man has ZERO choice is if he has to pay child support in most of the western world. So again, we come back to this narrative of infantilizing women saying they can't be held to account for actions they themselves take. But others can be held to account for them.

How hard is it to stop having sex or don't have sex at all? Really though. Try being physically addicted to it to the point your mind actually gutter bombs into "It's fine I can stop living". A lot of Nymphomaniacs live that reality and often have to be on heavy medications to more or less kill their libido entirely. Except less than 5% of the world populace has that problem. It's a want that you are trying to pass off as a need.

This is an annoyed post mostly and probably moderately incoherent but honestly? This whole argument pissed me off. Women are not toddlers. Please stop pretending that being exempt from consequences is somehow "Empowering" and "A human right". It's not.

#discourse

[jakowskis]

torchwood fanfic resources

so i'm a chronic livejournal archaeologist, and fixating on 2000s media is particularly fun for me because it means i get to go digging on lj / dw / old fanfic forums. below you'll find some of the excavations from my torchwood fixation (give it up for month 6!) it's pretty much got every comm i've ever stumbled upon and found useful, or thought others would find useful. it's largely fanfic-oriented, though there's some more generalized comms, too. i hope you guys enjoy!

i was originally going to include a link to my reclist on this post as well, but it's still a wip, so i'll just post that separately in the future.

general disclaimer: most of the content here is from 2006-2013 or so. period-typical attitudes may pop up in places. i'm not sure if most modern tw fans have witnessed the original fandom at all, but i felt a need to say this anyway, because i've seen some icky stuff. i've warned for anything notable. gwen bashing in particular may unfortunately pop up in some of these comms, especially in the comments, so tread carefully.

if you're new to probing through old lj comms, remember to always have the wayback machine on hand, because you're going to run into a lot of purged accounts and seemingly lost fics, but sometimes you get lucky and something's been archived :)

as of the date i'm posting this, all of these comms are still accessible, but if you're from the future and some have been deleted, again, go ahead and give the wayback machine a try. additionally, livejournal has a system that includes 'cross-posting' in which, if authors choose to (and the majority of them do, to get their fics more visibility), fics get posted to multiple comms at once. so chances are, even if one comm gets deleted, the contents will survive through other comms. kind of like how reblogs continue to exist even when the original blog is deleted.

finally, ctrl + f is your best friend if you have a specific ship/character/trope you're invested in, especially in comms with less than ideal tagging systems. if a comm does have a substantial tagging system, you can find all of its tags by adding '/tags' the end of the urls i've provided.

ok... let's begin :-)

assorted livejournal communities

✎ torch-wood: this is essentially a torchwood subreddit. it started before the show even aired, and one of the highlights of it is episode reaction posts (easily accessible on the right side of the lj) that document how everyone immediately reacted to the eps, which is pretty damn cool, fandom-history wise. only thing i should mention is there's quite a lot of gwen and owen bashing in the comments of some of those reaction posts, so just be wary of that if you love those two like i do, 'cuz it's a bit of a bummer.

✎ torchwood-three: this comm is an extremely cool then-daily newsletter (that still updates sometimes?!) that compiled as much fan-content as it could find into cleanly organized lists. the posts made immediately after new episodes aired contain reactions, discussions, meta, theories, new fic, fanmixes, just about everything. very very cool to go back and see the way the fandom was thinking as the show was airing and as they were getting to know the characters. here's a direct link to all posts made in late 2006, during the airing of s1.

✎ torchwood-fic: exactly what it says on the tin. desktop layout is easy to navigate, tags are all there!

✎ torchwood-fic's profile page also features a list of affiliated accounts that's pretty handy. it's worth taking a peek at, in case i've excluded anything in this post that you might be interested in.

✎ twgenrefinders: handy dandy comm where people would ask for fics of a certain variety & be treated with reclists, or hyper-specific fics... pretty cool stuff, ive got several threads bookmarked to sort through the links later. ofc, please note that some of the things people asked for might be stinky. particularly i've seen a lot of ppl requesting gwen bashing fics :/

✎ twstoryfinder: cousin to the above comm; here, people would ask for a very specific fic they'd lost. it's kind of fun to find fics through because you get someone describing memorable scenes + hyping it up, so it's different than just a standard summary. this one still gets posted on, too, which is crazyyy.

✎ tw-unpaired: for gen fics! no romance allowed! there's some good character studies + friendship fics in there. stuff's tagged by character + authors are even tagged, in case you find one whose writing you particularly enjoy. this is v useful for when someone's main journal has been deleted.

✎ torchwood-decaf: a comm where janto is BANNED. nah i'm kidding, it's not anti-janto, it was just made because janto is so huge that it overshadows everything else. pretty smart, tbh; wading through the sheer mass of janto content can be tiresome.

✎ jack-in-cuffs: for dark tw fic, or uber smutty tw fic. as a fan of dark!fic, there's some goodies in here, but of course it's not everyone's cup of tea. most of the writers included warnings, but if you go a little further back, some people weren't as courteous; navigate with caution.

✎ jack-owen: for fic featuring our captain and his (second favorite) doctor. i know this pairing's kinda divisive nowadays, but i enjoy it a lot. the comm's got a dismal tagging system and, ngl, i don't truly like any of the fics there (i'm very intrigued by jack and owen's relationship but i've never found fic that really does them justice, and i still haven't figured out how to write them myself) - but i'll include it anyway.

✎ odetojoi: for fic featuring owen in the middle of a janto sandwich, for those of us who are allergic to women (/sarcasm). there's an oddly impressive supply of fics of the three of them, and a good chunk of them can be found in this comm. (everytime i see this comm i think of a certain abbreviation found in p/rnogr/phy... but i digress)

✎ halfwee-and-tea: for ianto x owen fic. haven't gone through this one much, truthfully. i hate when comms have no tagging systems agh.

✎ owenharper-fans: a comm for the saddest undeadest bisexualest doctor around. also features a few burn appreciation posts, which is nice to see pre-pac rim era. mostly just features a shit ton of owen fic, particularly owen x ianto fic. mostly sufficiently tagged. if you need me once i post this, btw, i will be balls deep in this comm.

✎ the pro-owen alliance: another owen-focused comm - i think this one was made directly in response to owen bashing. haven't combed through this one much but it's got a fair amount of fics.

✎ house-of-cooper: a gwen comm! made in response to gwen bashing. haven't gone through it, but i'm glad it exists.

✎ tw-femficfest: a comm for fic about any and all of the torchwood ladies. tagging's cleanly done & there's some handy fic round ups, too.

✎ tw-classic: a comm for 'all things series one and two of torchwood'. was made after s3 and was popular around s4 out of nostalgia for the golden age <3 good amount of fic, discussions, etc.

✎ torchwood-house: this comm is, like, letterboxd, but for torchwood fanfic. basically a group of individuals who thought of themselves as having Good Taste would read Good Fic and then go in this comm and write a post about why they recommend it. it's well-made, easy to scroll through, and sells the fics v well, and it kinda gets you more excited to read them when you get to see someone hype them up with Fancy Words. it's like a little torchwood yaoi bookclub. we're eating quiche

✎ tw100: a drabble challenge; this thing's full of 100 word drabbles. ngl i hate drabbles but i'm throwing it in here anyway

✎ touchyerwood: i love kink memes... i love kink memes less when my favorite character/pairing is unpopular. the pac rim kink meme's been a blessing bc i'm a basic ass newmann - the torchwood kink meme? not so much. it's got a fair amount of shit, though, so maybe someone else will appreciate it. this one isn't the original, that one's been wiped off the internet, to my chagrin. keep in mind before digging that people in kink memes are horny & gross. that's your warning.

✎ reel-torchwood: for any and all movie aus... ok i have a bone to pick with this comm. i'm a big movie nerd, i love film, i've seen dozens of films i've thought would make good aus - i combed through this and there is not a SINGLE fic in there that piqued my interest. NOTHING. needless to say my disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined. i'm sure my experiences aren't universal though.

✎ torchwoodslash: ah, remember when we called it slash? gee whiz. i'm not big on this comm, it's not very user friendly + there's like no tags whatsoever so it's extremely hard to navigate. enter at your own risk & good luck, lol.

✎ rounds-of-kink: this isn't a torchwood-exclusive comm, but it's got a sizeable torchwood tag, which can be found here. pretty organized tagging system; makes me happy.

✎ tw-declassified: this comm was mainly used for running a 'torchwood bingo', which, i've been in other fandoms that do episode bingos and it's usually cute... this one confused me a little so i didn't bother peeking around too much, but still a cool little bit of fandom history.

✎ writerinadrawer: this was an annual torchwood writer's challenge that ran for four years... it's kinda hard to navigate but it does have some fic in it so i'm putting it here.

✎ dmarley-recs: a recs journal someone ran for compiling torchwood fic; it's got a l o t of recs on there, largely jack/ianto.

ok and straying from lj briefly for two other places to find fic...

✎ kink_bingo: this is a dreamwidth comm, and it's not torchwood-exclusive, so i've linked straight to the torchwood tag. this comm has a livejournal equivalent, but for some reason the tw tag is pretty barren on that one? not sure why. but on dw it's got a fair amount. the tagging system is rough, it tags fandom and kink but not pairing, which is irritating, and every post is hidden under a cut AND makes you go through a discretion barrier every single time (but probably only if you don't have an account? i'm not logged in) which makes navigation a pain. but i dunno, more smut, if you want it.

✎ whofic.com: this site is for doctor who fic, but it's got a very substantial amount of torchwood fic. i do not, however, like the formatting at all. i'm being overly nice; i HATE the formatting. it's very reminiscent of fanfic dot net but, like, worse. it reminds me of adultfanfiction dot org which was a NIGHTMARE to use. but! there is torchwood fic there so it's going in here.

aaaand there we go! that's all i have. i hope these prove handy! enjoy :D

#torchwood #torchwood posting #mine #txt

[majorproblems77]

I can't see anywhere where this has been shared with anyone else? But I read too much unresolved angst and just wanted Sky to get Dad hugs from Time.

“Please, Sir. I’ll keep up, or you can leave me behind. Just go back to your boys.” Sky yanked himself out of Time’s grip and wrapped his arms around himself.  “Please.” His voice threatened to break and he looked away. Why wouldn’t the eldest just go?

“Sky..." Time caught his arm. No, not in front of Time. Not when he was holding on to everything by a thread. “I am with one of my boys. What’s wrong?” And the kindness in Time’s voice was the final straw. 

“I haven’t slept more than a half watch in two weeks.” He admitted. “I’m exhausted and Surface Sick but--” here he stopped as his voice choked. “I just need…” Another sob he fought to stifle. He needed the nightmares to let him sleep. He needed his head and body to quit aching. He was already a burden to the other heroes. He pushed through this on his adventure. He’d do it again...

There was a clatter as a golden gauntlet dropped to the ground and a cool wrist was lightly pressed against his forehead, then the eldest hero carefully pulled him into a hug and it was at that point that Sky fully lost his grip on everything and sobbed into Time’s chest. 

--

Sky collapsed into him with a sob and Time caught the Chosen Hero and fought to contain panic. The boy had a fever. He wasn’t sure what Surface Sick meant other than Sky seemed familiar with it, some sort of illness obviously. Then there was their current situation. They’d hoped to reach a town soon. It would be better to stock up on supplies and catch news of their quarry but could they even move if Sky was very bad off? He knew the Chosen would feel awful about disrupting the group’s travel but he couldn’t imagine forcing pace when the boy was sick and clearly exhausted. All this was currently supposed to be pushed to a back burner as the urgent issue was a teenager breaking down with a simple hug. 

“It’ll be ok, Sky.” He assured, shifting to take more of the Chosen’s weight. 

UHH AJ

LIKE OH MY GOD THE ANGST NKJFNSFLKJSANF;JEN

BUT ALSO THEM

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I LOVE THEM I LOVE THIS IM GONNA DIE /pos

#AJ writes #not my writing #this is so good Aj #Time and Sky dynamic is literally my fave #i love it #thanks for sharing #:D #ramble corner with major #linkeduniverse #lu sky #linked universe #lu Time #can we get this at one point in the future ever? #cause i need more it cant just end there like that #ndjkslfh;a #i will patiently wait

[headspace-hotel]

Hello! I've been loving your recent posts about taking an interest in, and connecting with, nature. I was wondering if you and/or your followers had any book(or any other media too tbh) recommendations?

I just started Braiding Sweetgrass, which I'm very excited for, and How Plants Work by Stephen Blackmore, which I found just by looking up the words in a frustrated attempt to, well, learn more about how plants work. Some stuff there does go over my head or needs re-reads and taking it slow, but that's ok. I'm making up for a lot of lost time and education/lived experience here.

Aside from wanting a personal/philosophical starting point, I want to learn about plants & their physiology in order to form an intuition for how to grow and tend to them, as a hobbyist? I know it also takes learning about every plant in particular when aiming for this, but I still feel lost without a... mechanistic, logical, overview/understanding? I also know that this framing itself is a bit reductive given how bonkers plants can be, but this is my best articulation of what I want to ask. I can feel my molecules vibrating as the special interest takes shape but i'm also still at the point where I would send this kind of ask.

If you've read this far, I apologize for the ask length, and thank you! You've been a joy to see on my dash. I wish you all the best!

I think I understand what you mean. I had to learn that stuff through trial and error, transplanting plants and learning about their physical needs that way. I don't know very much from books sadly.

The biggest things I learned had to do with roots. A plant's roots are their vital organs. Plants handle having the above ground parts damaged or disturbed WAY better than having their roots disturbed. When transplanting, you MUST keep the "main" taproot (if there is one) intact. However, you also need a quantity of the very thin, thread-like roots. If there are not enough fibrous roots, the plant will not survive transplanting.

Plants need stability in the conditions of their roots. I think the main reason why a too-small pot is detrimental is that it causes the temperature and moisture of the roots to flop around too much.

Plants don't need water just in the way that you need to drink water, they need water in the way that you need to moisturize your skin to keep it from drying out. I think they're a little bit amphibious. It is helpful for their soil to remain consistently slightly damp, and not soggy.

I have learned some important things about the value of weeds, also. It is true that aggressive weeds can outcompete a small plant, but having some vegetation on the ground around a plant you have planted is very beneficial. Shade for the soil stops moisture from evaporating and stops the soil from heating up. People who mow their grass really short have to water it far, far beyond the requirements of the grass itself because the water is just evaporating before it can penetrate into the compacted lawn soil.

Very few plants can thrive in unobstructed direct full sun when they are small! It will cook them! This is contrary to a lot of the stuff I read on the internet—a website tells me that most young trees need full sun to grow well. How, pray tell, do forests work then?

People think forests are places of starvation from sunlight and intense competition, but in reality, forests are stable, regulated environments that offer protection from the extreme conditions that occur in a barren place. The temperature and moisture on the forest floor is heavily buffered, allowing delicate plants to thrive.

Also, most tree species rely on the presence of other trees to shield them from storm and ice damage—only some, like strong oaks, thrive when open-grown. Every open-grown maple I see has the scars of losing many limbs over time. The poor things are too delicate to be without the protection of other trees.

Spending time in the woods really makes you notice how scruffy and mangled most yard trees are, scarred by having branches repeatedly cut or ripped off, sprouting suckers and adventitious branches from stress. People are too eager about pruning branches off trees. It seems like they cut random limbs off because that's just what you're supposed to do. But this can introduce pathogens and cause the whole tree to die eventually. At the very least it causes a lot of stress.

There are several sweetgum trees in my neighborhood, in the middle of nice lawns, that are slowly strangling themselves to death because landscape fabric and mulch was piled up around their bases and it caused the roots to start girdling the tree. Please! Leave them alone! No big mulch piles, no landscape fabric.

#trees #plants #gardening #growing

[pinkandpurple360]

…so when we getting the thread focusing on fizzarolli’s feelings for blitzo 👀 i think blitzo’s feelings are pretty consistently acknowledged by the fandom but less so fizz

Blitzøs really aren’t acknowledged because this fandom saw him say “oh you two are an item?? Well congrats you hypocrites”

And they thought it was about stolas. That he was mad on stolas’ behalf.

Girl. No. He was jealous of Fizz, remember the guy he asked for a kiss from after he already knows he has a thing with the rooster? And hypocrisy is clearly about Moxxies song, his friend who he stood up for.

Anyways, fizz? Hasn’t been in the show enough for me to know for sure but two lines stick out to me

“Last time I checked your love life is a pile of shit” — uhh fizz?? What do you mean you checked?

“Can we talk about something other than my sex life?” — again Fizz, you’re a little obsessed. And why are you so disgusted by blitz being with the Prince at Ozzies? What’s it to you?

The line “you’ve lived rent free in fizz’s head for years” seems to me like he saw him as some kind of nemesis and was 100% keeping tabs on him constantly. He was the one who he reached out to when burnt and even when he thought he did it he said “why didn’t you come see me, even once wouldve been fine!” That’s pretty heartbreaking. Like he doesn’t want to ask for too much from him, he would have taken anything. If he just saw his face once he’d be ok. And being told that blitz didn’t care and did that to him on purpose seems to have permanently scarred him mentally. You don’t just bounce back from that. Cause it seems like that negligence is sooo contradictory to the careful way he always treated him.

Ozzie says “he values your take on things” is something Ozzie noticed but Fizz doesn’t even notice himself. Kinda mirrors the exchange they had when he said “as if I give a shit what you think” “you always cared what I thought”

It’s not like he’s important to him or anything😗 baka

Sorry.

But another way this came back again was when he asked Blitz “do you think I could win if I worked really hard?” And he replies “I think if anyone’s gonna be the new clown face on everything it’ll be you fizz” and he just lights up 🥺 that whole scene was my favourite part of the episode

In part of my thread I also talked about how Ozzie kinda seems to have replaced the role blitzø used to have in his life. His best friend, his performance partner, the person who keeps the creeps away from him, the one who gives him gentle reassurance and helps him out in their dressing room (I’m inferring there) they just seem very samey. The way the show framed it is that Blitzø loves fizz just as much as Ozzie does.

Fizz doesn’t really talk a lot about love if you really notice? Crooked was Ozzie professing his love for fizz really. And Fizz is mostly fixated on “not losing” they could have made some references to the life he lost but they never do, they only talk about not losing Asmodeus. But I think we can put 2 and 2 together that the trauma of losing everyone and thinking his “bestie/hero/enemy/sortve friend” hated him, is what makes him cling so hard. Plus the fanart and likes have more or less confirmed that he felt the same way. If he didn’t it wouldn’t be half as tragic.

But in the end what’s the story here? Yeah two inseparable friends in poverty and low class were in love, a horrible fire burned them when one couldn’t confess to the other. Then everyone conspired to keep them apart. The guy who purchased one of them as a childhood toy buys him again as a sex toy, and the other kid is saved from his disability and abuse by another rich guy who makes sex dolls of him….why all this imagery of chains and ropes and dolls??

Also the whole idea of rich men saving you from your struggles bothers me even if stolas loses everything it changed nothing.

#helluva boss #blitzfizz

[raisinchallah]

since you are a queerbaiting scholar, I have a question that I don't remember if you've ever covered. Do you think the t'hy'la footnote in the Star Trek TMP novelization could be considered an example of queerbaiting or is it just too iconic to fall under that category?

oh unequivocally like for clarification for people i guess who have a more narrow and specific definition of queerbait i do think it like kind of dodges around the entire central conceit of hoped for "gay representation" or something that is not really the lens i think its viewed thru in 70s fandom the way it was in 2010s as in like the way people frame queerbaiting they want characters to join this pantheon of confirmed gay characters fitting a mold of existing gay characters on tv to some degree and nobody was assuming like from that tease that kirk and spock would be portrayed as a couple in future movies or anything the way the queerbait dance between creator and fandom was portrayed in 2010s queerbait discourse but i think it was probably the first and most high profile attempt to date for a creator to try and mediate the relationship between the media property shippers and ship haters through like a direct communication of like canon material i guess like i would have to go on a pretty big deep dive back into some of the random star trek zines ive looked at to find sources again im struggling to find it right now but i know i read some various responses from fans at the time and kirk/spock shippers did react negatively to the footnote in much the same way people reacted to like ship tease jokes in classic queerbait tv shows on tumblr which i found really interesting people did think it was trying to shut kirk/spock shippers down just as much as people thought it was energizing them and speaking to them it really threads the needle so perfectly by like opening the door to a whole new type of possibility and whatever to the types of people who want that while also in text saying theyre not lovers hah hah isnt that weird which i think some fans also felt uncomfortable about because it was like shining a light on their niche corner of the fandom letting people know there were people who thought the relationship between kirk and spock might be romantic but again ive only read like two accounts of this so i honestly have no clue how widespread each type of reaction was i wonder if it also like re inflamed fights about if they do or dont have sex lol because that was a whole thing which is slash was for people who believed it was sexual vs kirk&spock was like homoerotic friendship to nonsexual romance fanfic and these were bitter fandom divides as well but of course and like this isnt to paint it all in a negative light but i do think the dissenting voices get a bit lost in the history and i thought it was kind of fascinating how similar a lot of the weird mediations felt to like some actor at comiccon 2012 saying well i dont know but it could be romantic you know it creates the perfect vessel for everyone to see what they want thru it so i think in many ways it was groundbreaking queerbait but also tbh did it better than anything else like truly stoking the fires of fan speculation and probably introduced a lot of people to the idea of "the premise" and planted the seeds in their minds to begin with and again few other queerbait texts are out here inventing special words that mean lover for the characters to call each other few people that bold like again somewhat different context but it does kind of feel like a first of its kind broaching into that messy dynamic between fans and the powers that be as they sometimes called them and truly a fascinating iconic piece of queerbait history

ok upon further looking i believe i must have read a scan of "a careful analysis: the roddenberry footnote" by christopher randolph (a pseudonym for della van hise the author of killing time) that was printed in the star trek zine naked times issue #3 but i have been unable to locate an actual link to the full text beyond the excerpts from fanlore here [x]

[oncemorewithqueering-tv]

lyrical breakdown of The Prophecy by Taylor Swift and why it’s basically buffy

the prophecy by Taylor Swift is so Buffy summers coded and here’s why:

Hand on the throttle Thought I caught lightning in a bottle Oh, but it's gone again

So, lightning in a bottle is like a metaphor for achieving something great, right? And here it’s “gone again,” like Buffy’s success. Because every time she accomplishes something, it’s on to the next tough thing. You killed the Master? Ok, your boyfriend goes evil and you have to kill him. She never gets a break.

And it was written I got cursed like Eve got bitten Oh, was it punishment?

I feel like this is about Angel, about how she was tempted by him, “got bitten” (had sex) and it’s punishment, because she blames herself for not being more careful.

Pad around when I get home

When I heard “pad around” I thought of tiptoeing, and how she keeps her Slaying a secret from Joyce, her own mother. This feels very early season Buffy to me.

I guess a lesser woman would've lost hope A greater woman wouldn't beg

Buffy is constantly in this limbo of being not quite human, or “lesser”, but feeling inadequate as a slayer because she doesn’t want it, she doesn’t fully own it. And she does beg during Prophecy Girl, for the prophecy to be changed.

But I looked to the sky and said

Please I've been on my knees Change the prophecy

I think this is fairly self explanatory. She’s sixteen years old and she doesn’t want to die, right?

Don't want money Just someone who wants my company Let it once be me Who do I have to speak to About if they can redo The prophecy?

Cards on the table Mine play out like fools in a fable, oh It was sinking in

I read this as being about the Gift, when Buffy realises that her fate, or her “fable” is to die for the sake of the world. Slow is the quicksand Poison blood from the wound of the pricked hand Oh, still I dream of him

I think this relates to Angel, and how she’s pining after that kind of romance that she doesn’t have with anyone, and why she turns to Spike. And her spiral into depression.

And I sound like an infant

Sixteen and doesn’t want to die, anyone?

Feeling like the very last drops of an ink pen A greater woman stays cool But I howl like a wolf at the moon And I look unstable

This is definitely season 6 buffy, who is holding on by a thread. She is unstable, she’s empty, she’s no longer able to be that greater woman. Gathered with a coven round a sorceress' table

I think this could be a nod to the Scoobies, with the “sorceress’ table” being the table in the library and then the Magic Box. That’s usually where she finds out about a life changing prophecy. A greater woman has faith But even statues crumble if they're made to wait I'm so afraid I sealed my fate No sign of soulmates

Definitely depressed Buffy, when she feels like nothing, being “made to wait” to be “normal” again, and afraid that she’ll never be as happy as she was with Angel.

I'm just a paperweight In shades of greige

Again, depression metaphor, being weighed down and being buried alive.

Spending my last coin so someone will tell me It'll be ok

Buffy constantly looks for reassurance from Giles and people around her who she trusts, so she needs someone to tell her it’ll be okay. Desperately.

anyway, this was long! And unhinged! I’m tired now, so I’ll go sleep.

#btvs #buffy #buffy the vampire slayer #angel #bangel #buffyverse #scooby #scooby gang #tay #taylor swift #taylornation #tor #the tortured poets department #ttp #ttpd #the prop

[lorebite]

𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 | 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

warnings: 18+ minors dni. fem/afab reader. suggestive content (literary dirty talk (kinda, sorta), use of literary symbolisms and innuendos, cunnilingus). strangers to more. implied intercourse.

summary: you get to play the tale of many lives but who will play yours?

note: this one's for my girl, @kassiekolchek22. she said it's ok to lewd Death so I'm here unleashing this upon all of ya. 😁 also, the poetry reference is from a poem by Walt Whitman called Vigil Strange I Kept on the Field One Night. and the opening line is a Judas Priest reference.

Oh, hear my warning; never turn your back — I'm the ripper.

You were back again – inside that dark cold office with rain whipping at the window in the far corner. It happened so fast it was gone in a blur. One moment you were wedged inside a compromising dilemma and the next, you were back on the old leather sofa and it was over. Your eyes fluttered slowly, adjusting to the dancing shadow of the silent voyeur loitering by the tall bookshelves. The Curator.

You watched him, the man – who was all except one of true flesh and bone – skimmed his fingers along the many a worn spine of books sat idly in his bookshelf. Your mind wandered to the tale you had just closed, the choices that veered the plot right off the beaten path as soon as you picked up your pen to write in the gaps left for you to fill. Choices you would’ve never made otherwise had you been in a different state of mind. You only wondered what he thought of your twisted accomplishments.

The Curator lifted his head as he flipped a book close, his back still turned to you. “Oh, you’re here,” the echo of his demanding voice reverberated in the room. 

He was back behind his desk in seconds, posture strong and confident as he sat himself down, his sharp eyes finding yours.

“Let’s see how you fared—” he leaned his elbows on the tabletop with a gentle flair, his cold steel eyes only briefly flickering down to take in your form, “—as onward silently stars aloft, eastward new ones stole. The end, perhaps, hasn’t been so kind to your charges. Such an unfortunate becoming. For the souls lost, at least—” he flourished an arm towards the candelabrum atop his desk to pinch the dancing flames between his fingertips, “—though I must say, as exhilarating it’s been to watch you undo the threads I carefully wove for you, I fail to believe there hasn’t been a certain intention behind it.”

You blinked, voice helpless against words as you searched for an answer. You had returned, much sooner than you would've on an evening you took a story into your own hands – as evident as that may have been, it was startling how accurate he was. But it wasn’t as though you were going to give him the satisfaction of an honest response just to catch that faint flicker of a knowing smile on his face when he realized he saw through you yet again. 

“There was no intention besides writing a story differently this time.” You said softly with a forced apathetic smile.

The Curator crossed his legs, vaguely waving a hand that was propped on the handle of his chair as if pretending not to know what to say. 

“Did you perhaps assume this would impress me?”

A tingling heat flooded your cheeks and dulled the sliver of courage you still had in your heart. You averted your gaze to your lap, weaving and wringing your fingers nervously as you pressed your thighs tightly together. What a futile thought to even try to cheat Death.

“Quite bold, I’d say,” he spoke, finding your silence enough of a response. “Never once I’ve met a soul so daring and so… simple to make such a feeble attempt. Alas, I applaud you. Consider me impressed.”

You peered up as you heard him clap slowly, meeting his eyes that were now wrinkled from the soft smile on his lips. Your heart fluttered with a pleasant warmth and you found yourself sinking into the cushion of the sofa, growing instantly more relaxed.  

“I’m not one for words of affirmation but I’ll offer this – what you achieved was no easy feat. You did very well. And for what it’s worth, working with you is a remarkable trade off.”

Your eyes pinned him as he stood from his desk and made his way towards you, the floor echoing the determined clicking of his heels. He stopped a small distance away from you. 

Thunder struck beyond the cold walls of the repository, the furious light flashing across the expressionless mold of the man’s face. You looked up at him from under your lashes, head tilting up so you could hold his consuming gaze.

“So, this is a trade off?” You remarked with a weak huff of laughter and what little confidence left inside you, zeroing in on the lone word that had piqued your interest.

“In deed. I believe you earned yourself a reward. An interval of sorts, if you will. Would you care to receive it?”

You opened your mouth, a quick response burning on the tip of your tongue before you drew back the intention, suspicion tugging at your eyebrows. “And what’s the catch – the repercussions?”   

He smiled, head cocking slightly to the side. You remembered his words. Good. He isn’t at all surprised that it was you who managed to pull this off – whatever this situation was. What a shame a head that clever belonged on a mortal shell.

“Repercussions,” he echoed quietly, as if deep in thought. “I’m only offering you a glimpse. You come here every other evening to unfold a story. Ever wondered about the one you get to star in?” He leaned down, his arm moving just past your shoulder to brace against the backrest of the sofa. The leather squeaked under the pressure of his tightening fingers. “Would you like to hear how I’d tell your story… (Y/N)?”

You swallowed. Hard. Through the long months of knowing The Curator, he had never addressed you by your name. He never asked for it and you had never given him it. It didn’t alarm you at all that he knew. It was more weakening than anything; terrifyingly arousing – to have your name so softly yet authoritatively spoken like that. You never came to know such unyielding need could grip at your core. 

A shadow of a smile danced across his lips when you nodded quickly. 

“Ever the eager one, aren’t you?” He mused fondly.

The fingers of his other hand sat under your chin and you almost recoiled at how cold he felt. He lifted your head to bring your face that much closer to his, to let you feel the gentle and even caress of his breaths on your lips. Cold. He was so bitingly cold. Every brush of his skin against yours sent a jolt of shock through your body, making every fiber of your being vibrate.

“In my many travels,” his voice was low and silky; a gentle lilt in the way he drawled so slowly. “I’ve seen many things and heard many more. Of poets and writers and painters. Each has a story worth telling. Such as yourself. And more so’s been told the stories on the Roman stages for La Traviata.”

His lips only barely glided over yours, offering you a ghostly kiss. You were soon chasing after him as he pulled away and sunk to his knees before your legs. Oh, heavens! How you never believed you would ever come to look down at him and him up at you. His palms slid down along the span of your thighs before they came to grip the edges of the sofa. 

He smiled again. “Libiamo ne’ lieti celciti.”

Let us drink from the joyful cups. And with that, he was prying his fingers between your knees and pushing them apart. 

His cold fingers danced slowly on your skin, fingertips so soft and, dare you say, loving that made your core grip with heat. Those tender touches that sat gently upon you – so strangely uncalloused and delicate. As if he didn’t have eons worth of stranded souls tainting the lines of his hands. 

He gingerly lifted your leg over his shoulder and you gasped at the extent of confidence in which he moved. What electrifying madness this was going to be – to have Death himself knelt between your legs and mere instances away from sitting his mouth upon your wet heat. That burning cold mouth. You were certain he was going to have you begging for him within seconds.

He pressed his lips to the curve of your knee, slender fingers careful on your skin as his soft frost bitten kisses traveled up your leg, rousing goosebumps down your spine and enlivening your fevered body.

Your chest heaved as you stared down at the man – at this fantastical of a being. His sharp eyes flickered to yours when his lips brushed just shy of the hem of your skirt, raising his chin high enough to slip his long fingers under the delicate fabric. 

Breath knotted taut in your chest as the cold waft of his skin brushed over yours – so cautious with you, this man. It was hard to believe this was coming from the same entity that relished shamelessly in the demise of humans. Such perfect power and what a dangerous power! And it had you right under its spell.

“May I?” He asked slowly, voice clear and unchanged.

It was almost as if he wasn’t aware of the effect he had on you; or maybe he did and pretended not to. The calculated nonchalance in the way he peeled back your skirt to stare intently at the thin veil of barrier that was your panties flickered the rogue flame inside you – just like the way he would taunt a candle upon his desk when a soul was on the brink of falling into his grasp.

His clear eyes reflected the dull blue of the repository, lighting up with the clapping lightning that illuminated the entire office. You startled at the sound, your eyes darting to the corner of the room at the rain still pattering against the window. He splayed his hands across your thighs, fingers pressing tightly into the burning flesh. It drew your attention back to him and as soon as your eyes met his again, he lowered his face into you.

A single thread of hair cascaded down his forehead as his lips found the gap between your thighs, pressing a wet kiss to your skin that made a sharp sigh flit through your teeth. He nudged his nose into the damp crotch of your panties, his mouth hovering teasingly close to where you wanted him the most. 

Was he merely careful with you or was he, in fact, toying with you?

When he lifted his head again – lips adorned with a smirk so shameless, it had you believed immediately that he knew. In that instance, he looked more Death than man. The plain face of mortality worn off under the diluted mischief that only a creature like him could possess. As if he knew secrets you didn’t and he intended to bury them all into your skin. 

You swallowed as his fingers removed your panties; your eyes followed the delicate fabric glide down your legs and to the floor while his remained only on you, drinking in your soft face, your patient eyes – you were strangely serene. Perhaps secretly complacent? You did, after all, manage to send him to his knees. How pitiful. If this were a ruse all along, he walked right into the trap with his own two feet. Then again, his job has always been to follow your decisions. 

Was it truly wrong that he was meant to abandon his will for the sake of yours? 

And to think he was ever going to find a different purpose for your name besides writing it in his book when that inevitable future came – we will meet again. And he was going to tonight, perhaps many times and little by little, when he drew gasp after gasp through your clenched teeth and wisps of hot wet pleasure through your walls; perhaps he was going to erode that precious essence inside you, take you many times over and breathe back life into you. La petite mort. This would be how you take him – in tightfisted doses until you could no more.

When his mouth was upon you, so cold it set you alight, whips of blinding pleasure tore through your body. You writhed, nails lashing at the smooth leather underneath you; the office reverberated the muffled thrum of the rain and your moans – the sounds hung above the soft wet noises of your slick smearing over his tongue. 

His fingers found yours on the sofa, picking them up and sitting them down on his hair. Your fingers immediately coiled within the silky threads and you gasped at the overt urgency of your own behavior. But he did not object even once, returning his lips to your throbbing heat that begged for release.

You dared glance down at him, past his watchful eyes that looked up at you and at the messy shock of dark hair knotted between your fingers. You pulled, just slightly, eager to see a reaction if he was generous enough to offer you any. And he did. A delicate groan rumbled in his throat, his jaw visibly clenching as his mouth pressed against you more hurriedly. As if he couldn’t believe what he made you do to him and he quickly regretted the effect it had on him; and now he was desperate to put an end to it through you.

A low knowing chuckle broke past your lips before quickly tapering into a gasp of moan when he greedily sucked you into his mouth, your grip tightening on his hair and your head falling against the backrest of the sofa. His fingers pressed deeper into your thighs, eyes fluttering close for a moment before they were open again and peering up at you heatedly. 

He yanked you forward, without any warnings, and buried his face deep into you. A short cry of surprise caught in your throat, your fingers flying to catch against the edge of the sofa. His hair was a complete mess now, his once perfectly in place fringe fallen over his glimmering eyes as they remained locked upon your every movement. Ever the observer he was – always keeping to his duty even outside a written tale. 

Speaking of… was this how he meant to finish yours? 

You were surely close. That binding heat within you wound tighter the longer his mouth moved against you. Your body tensed with anticipation of your climax, ticklish warmth sputtering in your core as you sped unwittingly towards your peak. And soon, you were there to propel over while still held gently against Death himself as the sharp flavor of mortality washed over you and made your shell quiver. 

The blue darkness of the office glowed with overcast moonlight and mystery before your swimming vision, skin tingling from warmth and adrenaline. Your chest heaved more evenly as your heart slowed, fingers uncoiling from their iron grip on the edge of the sofa. 

You looked down again. Unsure what you were going to see this time. But it was still him who met your eyes with a small smile, his face glistening with your slick. He looked untouched besides all the souvenirs you left on him. And yet they looked so oddly suitable on him. You couldn’t believe it. Did this… truly happen? 

He rose to his feet, one hand braced against your knee as the other crawled up the side of your neck and held your face. His lips were quick to press to yours. More firmly than before. It was only fair for you to receive the taste of what little death he caused you – that clear thin tang of salt that lingered on his wet lips; and even his skilled, dumbfoundingly clever, tongue once he let it glide through his teeth to meet yours. 

He held your chin, sitting one knee between your legs as he sunk against your body with a content sigh, his lips still molded like molten ice against yours. He leaned away enough for a breath to escape, his leg beginning to circle slowly into your spent cunt. You whined softly in response.

“You make me a fool – like a simple man,” he spoke after so long, voice hoarse and low. “I have never become something so insignificant for a such a small reason. That’s quite… invigorating.”    

Your fingers danced on the slope of his shoulder, coyly brushing over the smooth skin of his neck as you peered up at him from beneath your lashes. You offered a gentle laugh.

“I’ve never known you to be so humble.”

“I’m not,” he drawled matter-of-factly, his smiling eyes mischievous. “You will get your fill of it eventually. I’ll make sure you do.”

"Don't tell me. You think you can make me beg?" You challenged, lips curving with a teasing smirk.

He didn't answer immediately. His face hid from your eyes to instead, press against your neck, his lips beginning an upward spiral of sensuous kisses to your jaw as his knee continued to rub insistently into you. His breath flitted over the shell of your ear when he lifted his mouth to whisper huskily against it.

"I think I can make you mine."

⛓️🖤 Taglist!

@kassiekolchek22 @yellowroses-world @house-of-kolchek @yeslieutenant @katsufairies @ptichkayago @gaypanic1 @wadiyatalkinabeetmate.

#house of ashes x reader #the curator #house of ashes #dark pictures anthology #the curator x reader

[rottenbrainstuff]

BG3 playthrough - CAZADOR

Spoilers and my thoughts on spawn vs ascended Astarion below.

But let’s begin with a disclaimer, because everyone is taking this discourse way too seriously: these are MY THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS, I am talking about MY PREFERENCES AND MY OBSERVATIONS. I think everyone should play the game however they like and leave everyone else alone. YES, EVEN IF they are doing things you don’t agree with.

My poor little computer continues to chug its way through the city, but I’ve been getting a bit bored with the little random arbitrary quests of act 3 and I wanted to do something fun this weekend, so I decided to go to Cazador’s palace.

It definitely does feel like there was initially a plan to have more content in there that they weren’t able to get around to finishing… stuff like the unresolved threads with Amanita Szarr, stuff like the bizarrely empty basement, stuff like the aftermath of the big party, Victoria’s body (which I understand you used to be able to talk to, which was since cut out since her lines contradicted the plot in other spots?) sure, unfinished, but I’m really not THATbothered by it. I dunno. I’m still enjoying the game a lot. I can feel how much work and care went into it, I understand how long it was in development for and what a risk they took with it and how they almost went bankrupt trying to get it finished. In a perfect world I wish they could have had all the time and money that they needed to make act 3 as slick and organized as act 1, sure, but am I still enjoying myself? Am I still emotionally invested? Do I appreciate the work they did? Yes yes and yes. I’m not bothered.

Ok thoughts. The lore here is only fragments so you really have to flesh it out in your mind. It’s interesting how long Cazador managed to survive compared to his ancestors. I think it can be assumed that this is because Cazador was much more reluctant to make other vampires than his predecessors. We get only a tiny glimpse into what Vellioth was like, and I think it’s very interesting to think about how the game shows us that Astarion was punished with a year of being locked away, while Cazador was punished with eleven years of impalement. I’m sure in Cazador’s mind he is a more benevolent master, and his ungrateful spawn don’t understand how good they have it. It’s like an abusive parent who doesn’t understand why you complain so much, because when they were a kid they got the strap, look at how much nicer they are to you, you’re just being ungrateful! Cazador is really strikingly unimpressive for all the buildup he got, and I can’t decide if that’s funny, or a lost opportunity. Ever since I since I started playing, I wished there was an element of cycles of kindness and apology mixed in with Cazador’s abuse, because in real life that’s such an important part, these moments of calm where you think things might get better and things could work and you want to believe the bullshit that they’re saying. There’s none of that at all with Cazador, but maybe it just would just make the narrative more complicated, and also more disturbing, so that’s ok if it’s not there, it’s just a thought.

The fight was a lot easier than I was expecting and I found that a little disappointing. I skipped ahead one night just to see what the fight at the House of Grief was like and I was really challenged by that… Cazador is a whiny little asshole, comparatively. I wouldn’t have minded a bit more of a challenge. And yes I know I can bump the difficulty level any time I want, but I haven’t had to do that for any other fight. I’m just saying, I think the fight could stand to be a little trickier.

So here’s Astarion’s big choice - similar to Wyll, and different from Shadowheart and Lae’zel, you can’t just leave him to decide by himself and see what he picks to do. You must decide either to help him, or you must decide to talk him out of it.

I did the spawn choice first, because this is what my Tav would do. Wow, beautiful scene, so emotionally satisfying and cathartic. I really like that there was no attempt to be like, well, you can’t kill Cazador because then you’d be just as bad as him… no, even with the spawn route you are able to at least get that piece of revenge. I like it. I chose to release the 7000 spawn. It’s supposed to be a difficult choice, and for sure it is, but for me there really isn’t any other option in the end. After learning it isn’t 7 souls on the line but 7 fucking thousand, Astarion stubbornly tries to justify his commitment to going through with the ritual by saying these spawn are so far gone they’re better off dead now, but I disagree. That’s not at all the impression I get talking to Sebastian and talking to the Gur girl. I think that’s him feeling uncomfortable with suddenly being shown the consequences of 200 years of collecting victims. 100%. Sebastian has been there almost since the beginning and he is coherent and can express that he doesn’t want to die. It’s heartbreaking. I can’t condemn 7000 people to death because they MIGHT hurt people later. Look, I know, 7000 spawn loose in the underdark, they are going to hurt people. I’m not naive. But the last time I checked, even in places where capital punishment is a thing, you’re not actually allowed to execute someone preemptively because you think they MIGHT do something wrong EVENTUALLY - you have to actually wait until they do something wrong! It’s not a good situation, for sure. I can totally understand why other people in the world would be angry at me for it. I can totally understand why the Gur are angry at me for it. Totally get it! But like. The bottom line is, I can’t decide to destroy 7000 sentient people.

(I’m ok with the Gur being angry, but I DID really appreciate that at the very very least, Gandrel is talking about wanting to go and find their missing children. Yes thank you, at least one single person who wants to at least TRY and see if something can be done)

Everything after this is just so breathtakingly lovely: Astarion’s confusion about feeling numb afterwards, which ties nicely back into Aylin’s feelings after she cracked Loroakan in half, and the beautiful act 3 romance. Man. Like. It all really got me thinking about just how much Astarion has changed since act 1, how he’s being so honest here, so vulnerable, so sweet. His act 3 romance is all about moving forward and becoming free and why it isn’t easy. I’m so proud of him. Man. Man.

After this, his conversation dialogue changes yet again, and a dark urge has the option to try and break up with him because you’re afraid you might hurt him, which prompts him to give this amazingly sweet and supportive dialogue, man. Just. Babe is so sweet with a dark urge tav, I can’t stand it.

So some people have said they wish Larian had added in an option to hug Astarion while he’s wailing after killing Cazador - adding my disagreement here. This moment is all about Astarion. He’s letting out 200 years worth of grief and anger and pain, this is his moment, it feels really odd to me to insert myself into that, leave him alone with it. He wants to let it out, not have a hug. There is plenty of time for comfort later, there are two conversations about it post-fight, even.

Some people have also expressed discomfort with how Astarion uses the line “I could be persuaded” (to have sex). Personally I do not have an issue with this line the way it’s used here. I think his word choice is meant to be funny and to deflect the seriousness and significance of this milestone he’s suggesting, because he’s still working on this whole vulnerability and honesty thing, and I think people are getting too hung up on the literal wording and missing the contextual cues. I think Astarion’s intentions for the night were clear in his mind from the beginning. I think his entire plan for the evening was to have this chat with Tav and try sexual intimacy again. If you tell him you’re not in the mood, he acts surprised. If you go along with it, he is very much in control and setting the pace. “I could be persuaded,” he says, as if he wasn’t the one who asked Tav to meet him there, as if he hasn’t just turned to them expectantly and taken their hands like he wants to talk about something very important, as if telling him you don’t know what he means causes him to clarify that he wants to be sexually intimate, as if he doesn’t express surprise if you say you don’t want to. He doesn’t need persuading, this is the whole reason he’s set up the little graveyard date. I think……. I think people place too much emphasis on literal words. In real life things are rarely so neat and efficient. That’s totally valid if some people are bothered by the line, but I do think it was NOT the intention to suggest Astarion HAS to be persuaded. This is just how Astarion likes to talk.

While talking to the imprisoned spawn, a certain path of dialogue leads to Astarion having a bit of a revelation about how up till now he’s always clung to the reassurance that he’s not responsible for any of this because he was enslaved by Cazador. “Yes this was horrible what happened, but it’s got nothing to do with me, I couldn’t help it. While we’re here we might as well make the best of a bad situation, right?” But now he realizes… it’s very true that back then he didn’t have a choice, and I don’t begrudge him that at all, not for a second… but now he does have a choice. And he needs to think very very carefully about what he is going to CHOOSE to do. I’m so happy he realized that. He’s always clung so stubbornly to this rationale as we learn worse and worse things about the ritual, and I think this is the first little light shining through the crack that he needs to challenge himself.

After that was all done, I decided to try letting him ascend.

I knew what happens, I knew how things change, I’d seen clips of the alternate romance so it’s not like I didn’t know what was coming. Somehow though I was still surprised, much more than I thought I would be.

Cause ouch, it hurt. It hurt WAY more than I was expecting.

And hey kudos to Neil, A+ acting, this is why he’s winning all the awards: man, ascendant Astarion is a totally different character. Immediately, and completely. He immediately begins speaking to me differently. He SOUNDS different. He talks different. As soon as I heard him laugh for the first time I knew that I would never be able to do this in a normal run.

Ascended Astarion is very sexy. He’s very much now the hot bad-boy vampire, the bad guy from the movie that everyone writes fics about. He’s now very much the sexy bastard with the delicate little love interest sitting demurely on his lap while he rules a kingdom with an iron first type thing. I’m all for that, normally. If this was the Astarion we met in act 1, I’d probably still love it.

The problem for me is that IT’S NOT the Astarion we met in act 1, and that HURT MY FUCKING HEART.

The Astarion I have traveled with for two and a half acts is a bit of a bastard, yes, but he’s also silly, and cranky, and insecure. He’s been struggling with allowing himself to be vulnerable around me, and as he’s gotten more willing to drop his guard, this really beautiful personality has been emerging. He has a capacity for empathy that Cazador couldn’t even torture out of him after 200 years. The BEAUTIFUL things he’s said to my durge! The BEAUTIFUL thoughts he has in the spawn romance scene!

That is GONE. It’s dead. As soon as I heard him laugh for the first time, I knew how much of a mistake this would be. My precious, mean, beautiful, sharp, silly, sad Star was gone. Ascended Astarion will never be honest or vulnerable ever again.

I was shocked, very shocked, how quickly and completely Astarion changes with his dialogue and how much of a bad taste in my mouth it left. He sound different but he is also very much above everything happening, very much above me. After we left the palace and I had the chance to have a conversation with him, at first I tried to roleplay the conversation naturally, and I responded to him in a less than enthusiastic way, the “wrong” way, and he fucking shouted at me, and it just. It made me sick, absolutely sick. It reminded me of accidentally saying the wrong thing to my abusive ex husband and suddenly I’ve triggered a fight and I’m scrambling to say all the right things to placate him. I hated it. I hated it. I hated it SO much more than I was expecting.

The ascended romance has some of the same beats as the spawn romance and I think it’s obvious that’s on purpose. Again, it’s a contrast that hurts my heart. Rather than taking the lead because he is exploring his desire, allowing himself to HAVE desire, here he is taking control because he’s enjoying the feeling of having you underneath him. Rather than being honest and vulnerable and sharing this last piece of his history with you and pondering the trajectory of his life and his future, he’s talking to you in this syrupy voice and putting on a grander performance than ANYTHING he ever did in act 1 and there’s nothing behind it except possession and control. HURT! MY! HEART!

Astarion is strong and powerful now, and no one will ever hurt him again, that’s for sure, but here’s the thing: being alive means being hurt sometimes. You can’t make yourself strong by stepping on the backs of people the same way you were once stepped on, and you can’t prevent your heart from being broken by just burning out your heart. That’s not freedom and that’s not happiness. Without honesty and vulnerability, there can be no love, and it makes the act 3 romance feel depressingly hollow.

My resisting durge tav’s entire story has been about how he’s trying to resist his dark urges, resist his biology, and be a new, different person, and Astarion has been helping him. Similarly, my tav has been trying to help Astarion to do the same. The only reason my tav would ever NOT stop Astarion from ascending is if he tried and failed to convince him, and he now has to watch sadly as his love makes this terrible choice and lets his fear win.

So yeah. That’s my thoughts on that. I’m usually 100% all for the bad guys, I love the bastards. If that was the bastard we started with, I’d probably love it. But I fell in love with a different bastard who is already beautiful exactly the way he is, and who is basically totally destroyed if you go down that route. It hurts me to see him change like that. I do really enjoy that the game gives you both options, so you can play how you want to play, and so you can explore and see what happens down each path. I love how people have different reactions, I get how some people find a kind of catharsis or satisfaction in putting Astarion down that darker route. For me it’s a hard pass, hard pass, a much harder pass than I was expecting. Kudos to Neil and kudos to the writers for developing everything so beautifully.

Phew.

I still can’t get over how silly and sweet Astarion is being in the dialogues with me now though. I think as they explore more sexual intimacy, my tav would tease Astarion a lot about how it must feel to be a little vampire spawn who has bhaal’s own son at his complete and utter mercy and I think Astarion would get off on that, haha. Up next I guess I’m going to head over to the Elfsong and do the Emperor’s bullshit errands. Man this is such a good game. I’m so glad it’s being so recognized with awards, but I also hope it’s been selling a lot?

#bg3 #bg3 spoilers #astarion #Cazador #bg3 playthrough #baldur's gate 3

[zeldaelmo]

Welcome back to @zelinkcommunity 's prompt 'By a thread'. If you're here longer than three seconds, you probably know I love turning tropes and prompts on their head, and this fic is a typical result of exactly that.

@mistresslrigtar was so kind to beta this for me. Go read her zelink week fics! Oh, and she also inspired me to try new banners, hope you like them!

Enjoy!

Superglue

Akkala’s stiff breeze greeted them when they materialized on the platform of the shrine, carrying some crunchy leaves and the smell of the first autumn day with it. Link blinked slowly, taking a moment to feel Zelda’s hand curled in his. 

“Home,” she had said and, in a sudden rush of boldness, he had tapped the shrine symbol in Akkala instead of Hateno. Doubt crept up on him like ground frost, even through the tunic he had thrown on just before they fast-traveled, but it was too late to backtrack now.

Zelda shuddered next to him, her dress, once again, offering little protection against the weather, but her mood was splendid. Tired but splendid.

"What did you want to show me?" she chirped like a red sparrow in the snow.

"Ah—uhm," he stuttered, blinking out of his awe of holding her hand again. "It's a surprise."

"Ah, come on!" She laughed, running her palm over her bare arm. 

Ok, enough of this. Link let go of her hand and fumbled the Purah Pad from his belt, furiously scrolling the screen for some warmer clothes for her. If he took the risk of clattering teeth during a short paragliding trip, it was one thing, but he would surely not allow Zelda to suffer for another split-second in her life if he could help it. Finally, he came up with the Rito garb, tapped the screen, and turned back to her to drape it over her shoulders.

Abruptly, she stopped, her mouth falling open. She wouldn't argue with him about this, would she? Link bit his lip, mentally preparing to talk her into the warm coat. The woman had stubbornness for a whole millennium.  

"Link? What on Hylia's green earth is that?"

Huh? She was well acquainted with Rito clothes, had she lost her memory this time— oh wait, she was looking past him. 

Frowning, he turned his head, his eyes resting on her furrowed brows a moment too long. He only liked this look on her face when it came to solving science problems, and this seemed hardly the place for that. She pointed behind him and absently shrugged the coat on. Finally, he detached his gaze from her, turned, and saw what she meant.

In the middle of the plateau rested a pile of wooden slats, nearly two bases high. Ripped curtains stretched over what had formerly been window frames, weapon racks poked randomly out of the stack (one with the light trident still attached), and just barely discernible under all the rubble, Link spotted his, well, their, new bed. The wind tossed lighter household items around in little twisters while remnants of wooden walls creaked under the weight of rooms collapsed on them.

It wasn’t the chilly autumn wind that rushed over his back and expanded over his whole body. What… what had happened here? Unable to process what his eyes saw and to accept the conclusion his mind tried to draw from the images, he rounded the mess in slow motion. Everything was in pieces. Everything! The only intact cubicle seemed to be the paddock, thankfully. Epona and Zelda’s golden horse Apple were unharmed, unbothered by the ruckus even, and they both munched happily away at the flower ring he had bought from Koko to decorate the door.

“Link? What—” Zelda started, her voice tinted with concern, but she was interrupted by a loud crack from the other end of the pile. Link sprinted towards the sound, leaping over cushions meant to make a cozy evening for Zelda in front of the stove and a pair of boots that were entangled with something that looked a lot like a bowstring from a knight’s bow. Once he arrived at the backside of the pile, he stopped, gawking with his mouth open. On top of the mass, Zelda’s new study leaned dangerously to the left, only attached to the remnants of what was once the wall of the blessing’s room by a string of greenish glue. A green string he had seen thousands of times during his quest to beat the Demon King and get Zelda back. Rauru’s hand produced them as soon as Link wanted to attach two things to each other, and they were usually quite sturdy. Now, however, the string was thinning at worrying speed until it was the diameter of a thread. 

The room tilted; further, books and papers falling out and tumbling through Akkala’s afternoon wind like its famous red leaves. With a silent ‘pop’, the glue disappeared. Link swirled around and snatched Zelda, who had been gaping at the spectacle, causing them both to stumble out of the hazard zone. Not a second later, the study rushed down and crashed onto the ground, splitting into pieces. 

“Link—thank you!” she sputtered, finding her footing again. “But what is this? Is this what you wanted to show me? But why?”

Link gulped for air, blinking at the bouquet of silent princesses and sundelions he had prepared for her yesterday with the stubborn hope she would somehow return to her human form. The flowers were scattered all over the mountain of wood and personal belongings, stems broken and blooms crushed.

A single cup from somewhere on the right where the kitchen had once been detached itself from the rubbish and rolled to their feet.

Link kicked the cup back into the mess as if it was the head of a stalkoblin and muttered gravely, "That was my dream home."

Somewhere along the way, he had decided he would simply ignore the facts about Zelda’s irreversible transformation into a dragon and concentrate on the 'dream' aspect of the project and build a family home for them. 

Goddess above, he had burned so much money! He had dealt with not-upgraded armor and elixirs instead of proper equipment to have the spare money for the new kitchen or the large bed. And now… 

He shouldn't be upset about this, not when Zelda, the true Zelda and not a puppet or a light dragon or whatever form fate could come up with, was back at his side, and still, he couldn't help the wave of frustration that crushed over him at the sight of dirt-stained towels and broken shelves. Who would have thought that the house was only held together by a thread of— wait. Wait!

"Grante!!!" Link yelled in the general direction of the little sales booth at the corner of his property. Zelda was startled at his sudden loudness, but Link had had enough of this.

The man in question rushed to his side; a customer service smile spreading on his lips. Link had to restrain himself from slapping it off his face. "Explain."

Grante wrung his hands in front of him, smile unwavering. "First and foremost, it's Grante-son. And secondly, it looks like you had a little…ah… adhesion issue here. Sorry to hear that." His face lit up even more, genuine this time. "Hudson Construction will help you clean up the rubble for the small fee of—"

"Grante -son!" Link's hands twitched from suppressing the urge to shake him by the shoulders. One, two, three, he counted in his head to get a grip on himself. He would not embarrass himself in front of Zelda. "I purchased a dream home from Hudson Construction. Not a pile of wood. I have no idea how, but you'll fix this."

"I'm deeply sorry, but unfortunately, I have to inform you that we don't offer insurance together with our products, so I fear there's nothing I can do for you. We sold you a building ground and the cubicles. The rest was your own responsibility." 

Link took several deep breaths, forcing himself to smile at Zelda, who had walked off a few steps to greet her horse. She probably was still getting used to the fact that she could wander around Hyrule on her own two legs again and had no patience for… whatever this was. "I don't know what you don't understand about this! Hudson Construction, well, you personally approved the stability of the building, and now look at it! Goddess above." Link pushed his hand into his bangs, a habit that had come to him on his adventure while wearing his hair down. "Seriously, I don't know what I expected from a company that keeps someone occupied who can't even put up a sign."

"I don't know what or who you are referring to." Granteson frowned and picked a wooden slat up, turning it back and forth. With a shrug, he tossed it back onto the pile of trash l. "I did approve it. It seemed to work fine with the weird hand thing you had going on.”

Weird hand thing…? Right. Now that he said it, Link couldn’t recall that anyone ever affixed the cubicles that were the rooms, and since it worked just fine, he hadn’t insisted on it either. They must have been held together by the power-turned-glue of Rauru’s hand, and now that he had lost that ability, everything had come undone. Okay, so that was on him. Kind of. But they were a construction company! They didn’t glue the school in Hateno together, did they?

Granteson cleared his throat, correctly sensing the next accusation on Link’s face. “Maybe just try to put it back together? With your magic hand thingy?"

"Try… to… put it back together?" Link raised his marred arm and stared at the leathery skin on his stiff hand. "I don't think that still works…" Not one to give up easily, he flicked his wrist. The arm was a shadow of what it once was, but it was not completely immobile. It would be useless for swordplay, but maybe Rauru had a last, invisible gift for him…

Yes! 

Blue light flashed in front of him, and a gust of wind tugged at his hair. Link grinned. Oh, if ascend also still worked, he would have so much fun springing a surprise on Zelda! The look on her face if he popped through the ceiling of her study would be priceless — wait, what?! Why did the earth rumble? Horrified, Link watched the waves of blue radiating from his hand, splitting the ground in front of him like a laser beam. Before he had the quick-wittedness to drop his hand again, the fissure had already reached the pile of wood and was tearing everything apart. Wood cracked and rubble tumbled to the ground until the grand finale was marked by a small explosion that set everything on fire. Not a gift from Rauru, but from the Yiga. How could he forget about the cursed earthquake ability?

Link opened his mouth but didn’t have it in him to curse.

“Eh,” was all that escaped Granteson’s lips when the flames began to eat away at the remnants of Link’s dreamhouse, and frankly, Link had nothing more eloquent to add either. Against his will, a lump formed in his throat, and his bottom lip quivered. This should have been a surprise for Zelda! He had prepared everything from fruitcake and flowers to fresh notebooks! He had put a highlight in every single room for her to discover, and now… everything was gone. Goddess, he was such an idiot. Why didn’t he bring her to Hateno? She would have been happy to rest in their bed on the loft; there had been no rush to… to… 

A slim, gentle hand rested on his shoulder, and it took everything in him not to burst into tears immediately at her touch. 

“Link,” Zelda said, and when he turned to her, the heat radiating from what was quickly turning into a full-blown bonfire, hit them both. “I understand that you’ve been on your own for so long, so it’s only logical that you’d fall back into old coping mechanisms… But we’ve talked about this. No arson.”

Link blinked at her. “That’s not— I mean, it was an accident. I’d never…” She squeezed his arm with a tenderness that split him in two, just like the earthquake had done with his house. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes to stop the tears from spilling over and stuttered, “Zelda. This was— I built a house. A home, more specifically. It had a kitchen, a little stable, just— everything.” He lifted his hands from his eyes and pointed at the rubble before their feet. “The cubicle that just crashed down was your study. It was on top of everything with a separate staircase so nobody disturbs you, just like you like it— Goddess, sorry.” He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “This is not how I planned it. You said ‘home’, so my mind just jumped to showing you what I built for us. It was a stupid idea. Let’s go to Hateno; we both need to rest.”

“Link.” Her tone was soft and firm at the same time. Oh, how he had missed the grounding effect the simple call of his name in her voice had on him! “You built a home for us, although you knew I was a dragon and couldn’t return?”

Link smiled and looked boyishly through his lashes at her. Then he shrugged. “You said you wanted kids, and the house in Hateno is too small for more than two people. This is, eh well, this was a family home.”

“Ok, but…”

“Zelda.” He took her hand, and she raised her eyes to his, inviting him to share his thoughts. It would have been nearly romantic if not for Granteson trying to kick household articles out of the cracking fire. “Do you really think I would have given up on getting you back? Ever? I would have forced the Goddesses to give us our happy ending.”

“You’re crazy.”

“That’s what they say.” Link cracked a grin, and Zelda rolled her eyes playfully. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll take care of the mess another day.”

“No, wait.” She detached herself from him, stepping closer to the flames. Bent over by the hip, she inspected what the fire had left behind or hadn’t taken yet. “It takes a lot to make you emotional, so this must be important to you. I can help.”

“Zelda,” Link argued and tried to pull her back. “It’s ok. It’s really not that urgent. We can come back anytime; it’s just stuff that can be replaced.”

“Close your eyes.”

Link frowned at her, but when she shot him a radiant smile, he huffed, defeated, and did what she told him. 

Nothing happened at first, but after a while, the heat on his skin slowly dwindled, and he could feel the crisp autumn air again. The cracking of the fire also stopped; instead, he heard clattering and rattling noises, as if someone was moving many lighter things around. Those sounds were followed by heavy clunks of wooden beams clashing against each other. At this, curiosity got the better of him. 

“Zelda, what…?” He opened his eyes just in time to see the study that had nearly crushed them move back to the top of the pile. The cubicle was in one piece again. 

“Hey!” Zelda laughed at him, hand raised against the pile of clutter that kept moving around in a cloud of dust. “You’re cheating.”

“Maybe,” he said and smiled absently, captured by the golden glow that enveloped her. His eyes were only half on the pieces that slowly came back together; his focus was, as always, on her. Nonetheless, it was a little strange to see parts of the top rooms fly back in the air to form a cubicle once more, ignoring every restraint physics would normally put on them. Piece by piece, wood beam by wood beam, and cushion by cushion, the items darted back to their former place until everything looked like a house again and not like a pile of rubbish. 

“Granteson?” Zelda asked sweetly, condoning politely how utterly shamelessly the man was staring at her. “Please go fetch Hudson, will you? I need an expert carpenter to fix the house for good.”

“O-of course, P-princess Z-Zelda,” Granteson stuttered and ran towards Tarrey Town.

Link snorted at his sudden abjection but was too happy to complain that she didn’t get any talk about warranties or fixing fees. With a lazy smile on his lips, he hugged her from behind, put his chin on her shoulder, and watched his — their — house come back together. They had risked everything for the peace that now settled over Hyrule like the morning dew; it only seemed fitting that the place he had built for them would become part of that peace. The glow of her power made Zelda warm, warmer even than the Snowquill armor, and he nestled his face into her short hair. His lips found the stretch of skin that always made her gasp, and he pressed a lingering kiss on it until she giggled. 

“Thank you," he breathed.

"Look what you've done now! You're distracting me!" she called, laughing. One of the freshly put back walls rushed down again, but neither of them had the focus to care. Still laughing, she sneaked her free hand around his neck and pulled him in for a proper kiss. 

Link heard another wood beam splinter, but it didn't matter. Together, they could fix everything, and now, they finally had all the time to take care of themselves. 

Or on Ao3:

#zelink #legend of zelda #zeldaelmo writes #totk #totk spoilers #dream home #zelink week 2023 #by a thread

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Past Artemis and Present Artemis Are Not Allowed in the Same Room

If Number 1 kind of nudged the door open to time travel and wibbly wobbly timey wimey shenanagins in Lost Colony, then Artemis full-on kicked it down and yeeted a grenade through it in this book. Let's talk Artemis Fowl: The Time Paradox.

As per usual, SPOILERS ABOUND below the break.

There are a ton of things about this book that are amazing and in order to stay at least a little organized, we're gonna use HEADINGS this time around! That's not to say the headings are in any particular order, but life has been lifeing and I need a little help making sure I gush about everything I want to here. Because while Eoin Colfer introduced time travel in the last book, this one is a whole TIME PARADOX PLOT!

Opal Koboi, Empress of our Hearts

So, there are places for nuanced, complex, morally gray villains who have carefully throught-through ethoses and who are compelling because of their tragedy. Those kinds of villains are great.

Opal Koboi is not that kind of villain.

Opal Koboi is a villain in the classic Disney sense. She is absolutely unhinged, wants nothing more than to be Empress of the Goddamn World, and absolutely revels in setting things on fire just to watch them burn. She is rock-solid on her own worth, she is terrifyingly intelligent, and she is equally fun when she is strutting around in her own success as when she is pitching a dramatical cats tantrum because somebody said "ethics" in her presence. Our girl is sheer fun from start to finish, and honestly I love how consistent she is.

In this book, we see Opal before the events of The Arctic Incident, and it's great to know that she has ALWAYS been unhinged and glorious. If anything, this book shows us that the plan to use the B'wa Kell to take over Haven was weirdly vanilla for Opal. Sucking the bodily fluids out of endangered animals to basically Captain America super serum herself is...way more on brand.

The bit where she is too narcissistic and paranoid to stay in character as Angeline Fowl for more than like 60 seconds once Jay Jay is in the room is also AMAZING. Talk about getting in your own way...

Artemis vs. Artemis

So sometimes as a series gets increasingly lengthy, it's good to remind readers and character how much your protagonists have grown. Eoin Colfer decided that time travel was a great way to take advantage of this, and reveled in it by giving readers 10-year-old Artemis's opinion of 18-year-old Artemis and vice versa for the entire book, and it is SO FUN. They both hate each other, and understandably so. They both also have qualities that the other begrudgingly respects, and ultimately they need BOTH Artemises to resolve the plot.

We also get some really lovely instances of Artemis outsmarting and bamboozling himself. This conceit had every chance of coming off as cringe as hell, but Colfer handed it with enough humor and humanity to make it feel real rather than like a whole book devoted to a vanity plot centered on Artemis thinking he's the best thig since sliced bread.

Artemis...That was WILDLY Uncool to do to Holly

Ok, so Artemis has grown a lot over the course of five books. He's matured. He's learned how to be a reluctant antihero. He and Holly are legit friends. Which somehow manages to make it EVEN WORSE when Artemis full-on knowingly tricks Holly into thinking that she not only gave his mother a fatal illness but also started a plague that at one point killed 20% of the fairy population in three years. There's honestly no coming back from that kind of breach of trust.

And no, giving Holly a chance to say goodbye to Commander Root does NOT make Holly and Artemis square. It nicely ties up a loose emotional thread, but it does NOT square the emotional devastation of infecting a friend's mother and starting the plague 2.0. That is possibly the least believable relationship dynamic in a book where Artemis and Holly KISS (no, we're not gonna talk about it, they were both under the influence of the time stream and it doesn't count).

The truly wild thing about this is that Artemis before the fairies was a cold-hearted little bastard capable of incredible cruelty, but once Artemis understands feelings and emotional relationships, he's suddenly capable of hurting people WAY MORE than he could when he was a tiny robotic human. And of course the person he takes aim at is HOLLY SHORT. Like, FFS, Artemis. You did less damage when you had the emotional intelligence of a gold ingot...

Butler

Domovoi Butler is too good for this world and we do not deserve him. Artemis sure as hell does not deserve him, past OR present. Past Butler full on calls 10-year-old Artemis out on the act that he is *checks notes* handing over the last of a species to a group of fanatics to be horribly murdered in a kangaroo court, fully sells a sentient elf to those same fanatics, does not emotionally let Artemis off the hook when he is experiencing guilt and shame over being an accessory to murder and extinction, and TURNS THE PLANE AROUND to go save Holly and 18-year-old Artemis from the extinctionists. And thats just past Butler.

Present Butler is such a goddamn badass that he resists a juiced-up Opal Koboi's mesmer so hard that he gives himself a heart attack. Not even Opal Koboi can pull a 180 on Butler's moral compass, and even when he can't fully fight her off, he can resist in little ways, like sticking breathing tubes in barrels. Someone let this man retire happily, he has MORE THAN earned it at this point.

Baby's First Ecocritical Text

Environmentalism and ecocriticism have been very present as secondary themes in the Artemis Fowl series from the very first book, but this is, I believe, the first book where this theme gets really explicit and has real, concrete plot consequences and implications. The "hunting animals to extinction is bad for [list of reasons]" isn't the deepest or most nuanced version of the argument, but it doesn't have to be. The audience for these books are middle graders and YA readers. They get a concrete introduction to ecocriticism and some very comprehensible examples of the consequences of extinction and pollution, and that's going to be enough for more of them than you'd think to keep thinking and reading about the issue.

I highlight this because so few middle grade and YA books do ecocriticism at all, let alone this clearly and concisely. I suspect we will see more of this as climate change keep wreaking absolute havoc on quite literally everything, but these books did it before it was cool, and I really appreciate that about them.

Overall, this book is not my favorite of the series. Time travel can be a hard sell, even if you weave the complexities of time travel around a relatively simple fetch quest. As per usual though, the character work is never not entertaining, and I do enjoy rereading this one periodically.

#eoin colfer #artemis fowl #artemis fowl the time paradox #the time paradox #time travel #holly short #domovoi butler #opal koboi #middle grade sci fi #middle grade fantasy #middle grade books #middle grade fiction #books & libraries #books and reading #books and novels #books #book recommendations