#though the kink progression is also pretty important here actually

[rynne]

Still on my “I go feral for established relationship” agenda. There are so many small moments in the extras I love for showing us how much the Wangxian relationship has developed.

With his elbow, he poked lightly at the stomach of Lan WangJi, who was currently marking the notes, his back straight. Without any change in expression, Lan WangJi replied, “Yes.”

After he spoke, he wrapped an arm around Wei WuXian’s waist, locking him in place so that he didn’t mess around, and continued to mark the notes that’d been handed in.

Wei WuXian struggled a bit, but as he still couldn’t get out, he decided to maintain this position as he continued to lecture Lan SiZhui[.]

(Chapter 124, ExR)

This scene, as grewlikefancyflowers highlights, is a progression of their kink dynamic and I enjoy it for that, but it also shows how much their relationship as a whole has progressed.

Lan “I don’t touch people casually” Wangji just wraps an arm around WWX and holds him there. He is comfortable in himself and in his partner.

WWX still has his inclination to mess around, but his priority is teaching. He is settled and mature while still having fun.

But the major thing is that WWX once feared that LWJ wanted to trap him. His fear wasn’t even entirely unfounded -- LWJ may not have intended that by asking WWX to come back to Gusu, but the parallel with his parents indicates that going to Gusu would likely have meant some sort of unbearable restriction. This has been a big obstacle in their relationship for a long time -- once he’s resurrected, WWX keeps trying to escape from LWJ because he’s still afraid of being trapped and punished.

Now there is complete trust. This is also part of why I enjoy their bondage inclinations. In his first life, WWX would never have been comfortable with LWJ tying him up with his forehead ribbon, or pinning him down and holding him somewhere. But after everything they’ve gone through, LWJ has proven that he will not trap WWX. WWX can feel free to enjoy the way LWJ does restrict him because he knows his essential self is in no danger in LWJ’s hands now. He can struggle, and not break free, and not mind.

WWX just...has come to trust LWJ so much, in small things as well as big things. And I love the extras for showing us their relationship beyond the “getting together” stage so we can see this.

#mdzs #mdzs meta #wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #novel scene commentary #though the kink progression is also pretty important here actually #like wangxian's novel dynamics aren't shoved in because mxtx wanted stereotypes to top or bottom or whatever #the way they interact is meaningful to their relationship and characterization #and the trust is so important to every element of their relationship #these tags are a little rambling #but I just really like the intersection of trust and restriction #in all sorts of contexts

[joel-millerr]

The Chase - One Shot

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader

Rating: explicit

Word Count: 5k

Summary: You bet Mando you could last two hours on the run without him catching you. Reluctantly, he agrees to the bet.

Warnings: outdoor (rough & unprotected) sex, hunter and hunted type of vibe, mild choking, being gagged, size kink, mando talks a lot during sexy time, maybe slight dom/sub mentions?

A/N: this is just my take on the whole “bounty hunter and quarry” fantasy. also I basically wrote the smut and then added context around it. this is pretty much shameless smut  /// 

*Masterlist can be found here**

--

It started out as innocent banter.

“I definitely think I could last a couple days,” you told him, slouching in the passenger seat inside the cockpit.

The modulator scoffed at you. “No.”

“Are you doubting my skills?” You asked, eyebrow cocked.

He swiveled his chair around to face you. “That’s not it.”

“Then tell me what it is, Mando.”

Even though you weren’t able to see what his expression was, you could tell by his body language that he was getting annoyed. The way his hands fidgeted at his sides, the way he leaned his body back in the chair—something he did every time you tried to rile him up about something. Despite the fact that he hid behind the beskar, he was generally easy to read whenever he was irritated.

“I bet I can last two days.”

“You wouldn’t last two hours, let alone two days.”

Now that was a challenge you didn’t want to back down from. Anytime someone told you that you couldn’t do something, it scratched that itch inside you to do that exact thing. Your incessant need to prove people wrong sometimes got the best of you, but Maker, the satisfaction you got from it was worth the consequences.

“I’ll take that bet,” you said to him, feeling your stomach stir.

“I wasn’t—”

“Too bad, Mando. You challenged me and I accept.”

--

And then the rest was history. All you had to do was last two hours without Mando tracking you down and then you could die happy knowing you evaded the best bounty hunter in the parsec, even if it were for a short period of time.

You’re not sure what planet Mando lands the Crest on but it’s definitely one of the quieter ones because he’s landed the ship in a large clearing with only woods as far as the eye can see. It’s not a problem for you, though. Growing up on Naboo meant you were always exposed to forests and clear landscape. In theory, this is the best place he could have chosen, not that you’d tell him that.

“There are some ground rules for this,” he begins to say, standing in the galley of the Crest.

“I’m all ears,” you answer back.

Mando lets out a chuff of air that crackles up through his vocoder, like he’s still considering calling this whole thing off, but after weeks of still not finding a Jedi for the kid, you both need a little distraction.

“First thing, no guns.”

“Okay, that’s understandable.”

“Secondly, you keep the commlink open at all times,” he orders.

“Not a problem,” lips curling into a smile, you already feel the adrenaline pump through your veins, body itching to get this whole bet started.

“Thirdly, if you somehow manage to last the day, we check in once it gets dark.”

“Ouch,” you take a step back, slightly offended at his jab. “You have so little faith in me.”

“I’m not the one overestimating my abilities,” he jests. Who knew Mando could be so snarky?

“Do we call it off at night and wait till dawn?”

“If you want to make to things easier.”

Oh, so that’s how he wants to play.

“All right, Mando. We don’t stop.”

“I don’t know how safe this planet it, but you shouldn’t run into any trouble.”

“Okay, yeah Mando, let’s do this,” you’re basically shaking from the thrill of all this. You can’t wait to show off your evading skills.

“I’ll give you an hour head start. Put as much distance between yourself and the Crest as you can.”

“Don’t worry, Mando. This isn’t my first time running away from someone,” you say with a smug smile.

“Fine,” his voice terse.

Your turn your back to him and face the open ramp. With your heart banging against your ribcage and your palms damp with sweat, this might be the most exhilarating thing you’ve ever done.  

“Be safe, I’ll see you soon,” He says with a hint of mockery. He’s so confident in himself, it’s actually getting under your skin.  

Looking over your shoulder, you hit him with your own jab, “We’ll see about that,” and then you’re descending the ramp.

Once your feet hit the ground, you think of the best direction to head towards. In order to do this successfully, you’ll need to choose every single one of your movements very carefully because any slip up could end up hurting your chances to win.

You hear your named being called, so you turn around to look back at the Crest and see Mando standing at the top of the ramp.

“When I do find you, try to put up a fight.”

That sends heat right to the apex of your thighs. If you didn’t have enough incentive, that was the last nail in the coffin. You’ll make this as hard for Mando as you possibly can.

You shoot him one last devilish grin and disappear from sight, opting to go to your right. Once you reach the forest edge, you break off into a sprint, heading deeper and deeper into the foliage.

The forest isn’t too dense, but there are roots everywhere on the ground and you stumble on a couple of them, nearly falling flat on your face. The positive to having so many branches and roots in the ground means the chances of your footprints showing up in the mud are low but Mando’s got a heat tracker on his helmet, meaning he can still track your movements without actually seeing your prints.

The adrenaline keeps telling you to run, run as fast as you can, but the rational part of your brain realizes that no matter how much distance you put between you and Mando, it won’t matter unless you have a clear plan as to what tactics you’ll need to use in order to make sure he doesn’t find you.

Should you try to find the closest village?

Should you stay in the forest?

Think, think…

You continue to put some more distance between you two and when you feel as though you’ve made some progress, you check the clock on your commlink.

2:50PM.

In ten minutes, Mando will leave the Crest and begin tracking you. You’ll have to start making important decisions soon. When you entered the planet’s atmosphere, you tried to pinpoint a specific spot that might give you some kind of advantage. If your memory serves you correctly, you saw a small area that appeared to be some kind of canyon. Ideally, that might be the perfect spot to find some shelter. A hard surface means no footprints.

Now if you could only find out how far away you are from it…

As you take in your surroundings—which is basically just trees and more trees, you think about finding a high enough viewpoint for you to see where this possible haven could be. A few metres away you happen to see a tree that appears to be much larger than the rest of the ones around it. Its branches look sturdy enough for a human to climb and it doesn’t take you long before you’re heading straight for it. You haven’t climbed a tree in years but if there was a perfect moment to touch-up on your skills, it’s right now.

As you climb up the stump, the branches and leaves break apart, and the sky begins to get clearer and clearer. When you finally reach the very top, you’re so high up that you’re able to spot what you were looking for. It looks like it’s a couple more clicks away, but you were lucky enough to be already heading in that direction. The Maker must be on your side.

One more look at the clock.

3:01PM.

Shit, you have to start moving.

If you start to climb down the tree, you’ll end up losing precious time, allowing Mando to close some of the distance. It’s something you can’t risk. Eyes scanning the woodland between you and your hideout, you come to the conclusion that you’ll have to jump from tree to tree and pray you don’t fall and break any bones. It’s incredibly risky, and your inner self is warning you against it. If you do fall, you’re screwed, breaking a lot of the bones in your body. You’ll have to hope that these branches will be able to carry your weight.

Trying to balance yourself on one of tree’s larger arms, you crawl across it on your knees, knowing damn well if you stood up, you’d lose your balance and fall down, and it would be a pretty big fall. You’re easily fifteen feet off the ground, maybe more. Fuck, this might have been a horrible idea, but it’s frankly too late to turn back, you’ve made up your mind and you need to go through with it.

The jump from the branch you’re currently on to the adjacent one you’ll be jumping onto is about four feet, but it’s not the jump that concerns you. What concerns you is the sturdiness of that branch. Will the impact cause it to snap? Will it make too much noise, letting Mando hear it? All these questions are racing through your mind as you hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears. The longer you consider it, the more time you waste. You’ll just have to take the chance and hope everything works in your favor.

“Okay… I can do this,” you whisper, psyching yourself up.

As you slowly rise to your feet, your legs are buckling. You take one last look down, fully realizing that this idea is absolutely bonkers and jump.

When your body hits the branch, you latch your arms around it, landing on your stomach. To your surprise, the branch doesn’t break off, it barely even moves.

Success.

You continue to leap from branch to branch, until the rest of trees in your wake look too unstable for you to leap onto. Luckily, the tree you’re currently on isn’t too far from the ground, so you’re able to climb down it in under five minutes before reaching the ground. Keeping still for a moment, you wait to hear something.

A twig snap, leaves rustling, anything, but you don’t hear a single sound.

“Did you actually climb these trees?” You hear Mando’s voice through the commlink on your wrist, which startles you.

Is he already there? He’s already so close, how is he already so fucking close to you?

“Um, no?” You reply.

“That’s convincing,” he answers dryly.

If Mando’s already reached the tree you started climbing at, then he’s really not far behind. You’ll need to start sprinting again. Without trying to make noise, you begin to tiptoe around the forest, trying to be as quick and efficient as you can. It doesn’t take long until you see a break in the forest and somehow quicken your tread to the clearing.

Once you reach the wood's edge, you’re about to take a step into the clearing when you stop yourself.

Kriff, if you step into that open field, you’ll be sticking out like a sore thumb, which is a risk you cannot take. Instead, you’ll have to walk along the sides of the clearing, keeping to the trees and hoping you won’t be spotted.

“Are you really about to step into that glade?”

Your breathing hitches, everything inside you is burning up, adrenaline nearly making you shake uncontrollably.

He’s found you.

He sees you.

Keeping very still, you turn your head in every direction, desperately trying to see where Mando is but you can’t see a fucking thing. You consider making a break for it—which direction, though? Do you turn around and head back into the forest and hope that you’ll be able to lose him in the trees? Do you stick to your guns and continue to make for the mountains?

“Better make up your mind quickly, pretty girl. Time’s running out,” he’s fucking taunting you. Mando knows exactly where you are and is relishing in watching you struggle in deciding what to do next.

There’s something incredibly titillating knowing that he’s watching you, right now. Predator watching prey, observing your every move, waiting for the perfect time to ambush you.

“What are the chances I outrun you?” You breathe into the speaker on your wrist, chest puffing in and out heavily.

Mando doesn’t answer right away, mulling over your question. “Very slim.”

“But not impossible?”

You’re sizing yourself up. You know damn well there isn’t a chance you lose him, not when he’s got eyes on you, but you have an advantage on him. Carrying all that armor on his body makes his movements more abrupt, meaning he’s less agile and relies more on his weapons to catch a bounty rather than his own speed. All you need to do is outrun him, make yourself impossible to catch and then maybe, just maybe, you can reach the other end of the forest without getting snatched.

“What are you planning?”

“’Put up a fight’,” you repeat the last words he said to you. “That’s what you said, right?”

“Yes?”

“Well… Come get me.”

And then you’re racing into the glade, your legs moving as fast as you possibly can. The air whipping passed the burning hot skin on your face, lungs feeling like they’re on fire, you’re running so much faster than you ever thought you could. Maker, you didn’t even know you could sprint this fast. Taking one quick look back over your shoulder, you see Mando break out from the forest edge, racing after you. He’s a couple metres behind you, but he seems to be closing the gap between you quicker than your efforts to gain distance.

Starting to panic, you make a sharp turn to the left, hoping he’ll be caught off guard, giving you just a few more seconds to stretch out the distance.

“I’ll give it to you, you’re much quicker than I thought,” he pants.

You’re so close to the forest, just a few more sprints. With your legs burning and getting tired, these last few metres are either going to make or break you, but with the determination to prove him wrong, you refuse to give up. You can almost taste freedom… just one more step—

And then you’re falling to the ground. Face slamming into the grass so hard, your vision goes fuzzy, and your head is pounding, hearing a faint ringing in your ears. When you turn over on your back, you look down at your legs and see your feet wrapped up in grappling line. Still in somewhat of a daze, you try to unravel the coil from your ankles with haste before Mando can close in on you. The tall grass shields your view, stopping you from seeing anything until it’s directly in your face, which mean he can be just a few feet away without you even knowing it. If you have any chance at slipping passed him, you need to move very fast.

Just as the cord untangles from your legs and you jump to your feet, you see Mando standing in front of you, just a little further than arm’s length away. Standing in place, you freeze up like a prey animal being spotted by its predator. Maker, he’s intimidating, carrying himself with such confidence and gusto that it could make even the more fearless predator cower in his presence and because you can’t see his expressions, you have no idea what he’s thinking under that bucket of his.

“Well, you managed to last two hours,” he notices after checking the time on his vambrace.

Relaxing your shoulders and readying yourself to break off into a sprint for the woods, you cock your head to side and chuckle. “Technically, you haven’t caught me yet.”

He tilts his head ever so slowly to the side, chest puffing out. With caution, he takes a step forward and in turn, you step back, maintaining the little distance between you two.

“Don’t make this harder for yourself.”

“When have I ever made it easy for you?”

The visor’s locked on you. Both of you stand incredibly still, waiting for someone to make the first move.

“Don’t run,” he warns.

It’s impossible to ignore the stirring in your stomach. It’s time to face the facts, you’ve already been defeated. There’s not a chance in hell you can possibly win this. You fucked up, somehow. Maybe you shouldn’t have started climbing trees, maybe you should have gone left instead of right. None of those things matter anymore. The only thing that matters how is what your next move is.

“Isn’t this what you really wanted?” His voice hitting low in the register.

Oh?

Does he mean what you think he means? Your pussy gushes, and you’re hit in the face with reality.

You would have to be a fool not to notice the way Mando looks at you on the Crest, and how you look at him. There’s clearly chemistry between you two, maybe even infatuation. It’s been three months since you started travelling with him which means there’s been three months’ worth of sexual tension. Both of you felt it, the electricity in the air whenever you were alone together. The air would get thick, your heartrate would quicken, and you’d wait for him to make a move, but he never did. Whenever you felt like that day was finally the day he’d let go of his devices and fuck you senseless on his ship, he’d retreat to the cockpit and lock himself up for hours, leaving you to take care of yourself in the fresher. It was enough to get the job done, but you wanted him, and you know he felt the same.

So, yeah, you’d be lying to yourself if that idea hadn’t crossed your mind. Getting him in his element, force him to come after you, and when you finally gave in or rather, when he found you, he’d be so caught up in the moment that all the sexual tension that had been building up for the last three months would climax at this very moment. What you couldn’t have anticipated was Mando figuring all of this out and actually calling you out on it.

Slacking your jaw, you lick your bottom lip, staring at the ‘T’ of his visor, realizing that this whole bet was just a façade—that the real reason you started this whole wager was to rile him up.

Mando body shifts, his fingers flexing at his sides.

“Been wanting it for three months, Mando,” you challenge.

He makes a guttural noise in his throat, and now you know you’ve got him. It’s taken three months to get you where you are now. Three months of walking around the Crest, swaying your hips purposely in hopes he’d look at you as you walked by. Three months of not so innocent touches on whatever part of him you could touch. Three months of soft moans and groans, trying to get his attention.

All your hard work is finally going to pay off.

Mando tries to close the gap between you, taking a step towards you. Being the brat you are, you step back.

“You’re really going to make this difficult?” He asks—very much a rhetorical question.

“Come get me, Mando,” the words slip off your tongue, once again trying to entice him.

A game of chicken.

Who’s going to make the first move? Is Mando going to charge for you? Do you let him? Do you turn and try to run away?

In a flash, Mando leaps forward and you’re just quick enough to dodge him, whipping your body towards the forest’s edge and taking large strides forward. You barely make it three feet before there’s more grappling line squeezing your ankles together. Once again, you land on your stomach with just barely enough time to cover your face with your hands.

Now, you know there’s no way you’d be able to get up in time and still somehow slip through his fingers, not that it was ever the point of this bet. You thoroughly enjoyed the thrill of being on the run and having Mando chasing after you but you’re way more interested in what’ll happen next than actually winning.

It’s takes a few seconds for you to get your bearings, and as soon as you begin to push yourself upright, you’re being shoved back into the ground by Mando using his bodyweight against you. He straddles either side of your legs, pushing them together.

“If this is what you wanted, all you had to do was ask,” Mando’s voice suddenly whispers in your ear, pressing himself into your body. He bucks his hips against your ass, his erection nuzzled between your cheeks. Propping himself on his elbows so he doesn’t suffocate you with his weight, one of his hands grab hold of your waist, digging into your flesh.

Trying to arch your back, you push your ass out to grind against his cock even more. Maker, you want him so fucking badly. Being fucked in an open field where anyone could see you, it’s daring and intoxicating.

Your hands fumble to your pants, trying to unbutton them and slide them down your thighs. Mando senses your urgency and swats your hands away and then his body leaves you momentarily, just long enough for him to tug your trousers down to your knees. It’s rushed, and you’re already panting underneath him, the anticipation eating you up from the inside.

A leather gloved hand grazes your lips, then he’s pushing two fingers in your mouth. The tastes of earth and salt lingering on your tongue.

“Bite,” he instructs.

You oblige and the glove comes off, discarded just inches away from your face. Without skipping a beat, his naked hand travels down your side, and with your ass in the air, he palms your stomach, keeping you in place and forcing you to arch your back even more. The pool of arousal in your stomach is making you squirm, getting more impatient as the seconds go by.

Mando takes his time trailing your lower belly, fingers barely grazing your skin. Your breathing is completely erratic, panting heavily into the ground. When he finally cups your sex, your breath hitches, a sharp inhale escapes your lips.

“Stars, you’re fucking soaked already,” he admires, and then two calloused fingertips are rubbing tight circles on your clit.

Writhing underneath him, you can barely keep still. The pleasure is overwhelming, something you’ve been waiting for for so long, you can’t believe this is really happening

Your hands grab at his waist with haste, trying to remove his pants but because you can’t see what you’re doing, you’re just aimlessly grabbing at him. He sees you struggling and lifts himself off of you. Hearing a small scuffle, he presses his body into your back again, and you feel his freed cock between your cheeks. Maker, he’s huge… is it possible for someone to feel this big when he hasn’t even stuck it in you yet?

“Are you sure you want this?” He asks breathlessly, his own pants scratching low in his helmet.

“Y-y-yes, please,” you croak, your throat already bone dry.

Gathering as much of your slick on his hand as he can, you feel him smear it all over his length and with your ass still shoved up against him, he teases your entrance with his tip. Hands grabbing at his hips with urgency, he actually fucking chuckles and then starts burying himself inside you.

Stars, he’s fucking huge, it almost burns how much he’s stretching your walls. Your eyes wrench shut so hard; you’re seeing stars. It feels like all the air is being knocked out of your lungs, you can’t even make a sound as your jaw fucking drops. He buries himself deeper and deeper—kriff you’re not sure how much more you can take. Your body freezes once he’s fully inside you, teasing your cervix with his head.

“F-f-fuck, you’re tight,” he breathes out once he’s filled you to the hilt. Steadying himself on his palms, his cuirass leaves your back, but he doesn’t move. He just sits there, giving you time to acclimate to his size. “I’ll try to be gentle—”

“No,” you say, cutting him off. “Please, j-just, fuck—do what you want,” you’re basically sobbing already, and he hasn’t even begun to fuck you.

He slowly pulls out and when you feel just the head still inside you, he slams into you so hard, you jerk forwards and cry out, your whole body stilling from being so full.

“You have to be quiet, someone might hear,” he tells you gently, pulling out again ever so slowly.

In an effort to stifle your moans, you bite down hard on your bottom lip, and when he bucks his hips and crashes into you again, you’re unable to stop the shriek that escapes you. Balancing himself on one arm, he grabs the discarded glove by your face and stuffs it into your mouth, gagging you with it and then begins really fucking you.

He drives his cock into you at a grueling speed, stopping his rhythm momentarily to roll his hips against your ass, making sure you feel every fucking inch of him. Whatever pathetic noise tries to slip through your lips is muffled by leather and you’re grateful for it because your cries would echo through the field if not for the glove.

Mando drops his weight back on you, feeling his breastplate dig into your back. He lets his cock just sit there as his naked hand wraps around your neck, applying pressure with two fingers. He resumes his pace, jackhammering your pussy with so much force, his balls slapping against your skin echo through the clearing.

“Shit, this—this is what you wa-anted?” He hisses, never once relenting his rhythm.

You couldn’t have planned for how mind-blowing this is. The daydreams, the dreams while you slept, nothing could have prepared you for the real thing. Nothing in your imagination even comes close to the actual feeling of Mando fucking you senseless in the middle of an open area. You’re so close to your climax already, something no other person has even gotten close to doing. Mando knows how to fuck, how to reach the right spots inside you, how to drive you fucking insane.

“Yes, ah-shit, yes Mando, please, please, it feels so good,” you babble, your mind unable to come up with a coherent thought; instead, you’re reduced to a blubbering mess. Tears are forming in the corners of your eyes, and when you squeeze your eyes shut, they begin streaming down your face.

“Be a good girl and come all over my cock,” he grits out between thrusts.

The grass is tickling your face, he pushes you deeper in the ground with every plunge, and then your orgasm rips through you, waves of white-hot pleasure crashing over you, electrifying your body from the inside out. Clawing at the ground and grabbing fistfuls of dirt, your body tenses and untenses at the same time, you can barely breathe. His hand is still pressing into your neck, making you dizzy from the limited air you can actually take in, as well as your climax punching out of you.

“Yes, fuck—ah shit—stars, you feel so fucking good.”

Mando doesn’t like to talk very much, only speaking when directly addressed, but now he’s a mess. He praises you, repeating words of admiration like it’s a prayer he tells himself at night and knowing you’re the reason for all this chatter just fills you up with pride.

He has incredible stamina, so he doesn’t need to pause in order to catch his breath very often. Mando continues to drill into you with such speed and force, you don’t know how much more you can take. It’s so much better than you thought it could be, you never could have predicted Mando to be so good at fucking you. He knows exactly how to treat your body, how to get the most pleasure out of you, it’s like he already knows you better than you know yourself. His cock rams that spot deep inside you that’s never been touched, nearly blinding you and causing your mind to go blank. You curse the Maker for making you wait this long. Both of you needed this, to take your frustrations and desires out on each other.

It’s primal, the way he thrusts inside you, feeling his cock pulse and twitch as your walls squeeze around him. Mando can barely shut up, if he’s not growling admirations in your ear, he’s keening into the helmet, his baritone hitting so low and rough, it only spurs you on.

The hand on your neck slacks, and then he’s pulling the glove out of your mouth. “Where d-do I—”

“Inside,” you manage to mewl, although your voice is barely above a whisper. “Please.”

“Ah—shit, you want me inside you? Fill your pretty little cunt with my come?”

You make a pathetic noise in your throat, the dryness of it too much for you to actually speak.

“Words, pretty girl. I need you to use your—fuck—words.”

You swallow hard, trying to get some dampness in your throat. “Y-yes.”

Mando growls contently and resumes his ruthless, hard pace. It’s no longer rushed, but with every thrust, he slams into your pussy so hard and hitting your cervix that your body jerks upwards, struggling to keep still. He grinds his hips a couple more times and then he reaches his own climax. You feel his cock throb inside you, filling you up with his seed.

“Fuck!” He snarls into the helmet, keeping it pressed against the side of your head.

You’re completely spent, you can barely move a muscle. Mando’s just fucked the life out of you, and you could lie here for the rest of your life, happy and satisfied. When you feel him start to pull out, with the little strength you gave—which is by no means a lot, you clench your walls around him, trying to keep him inside you.

“Don’t want me to leave?” He jokes.

“Want you inside all the time,” you mumble into the ground.

Mando hums, sheathing himself inside you once again.

“Pretty girl, I’m just getting started with you.”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian smut #one-shot #pedrostories #fics

[bosspigeon]

if you're still bleeding

Pairing: Jax/M!Merc

Words: 2657

Summary: Jax should know better. He should know to mind his own damn business. But, unfortunately, he's well beyond "knowing better" now that he's gone and gotten tangled up with an unhinged mercenary with more knives than sense, and the scars that say the chances of him finding any sense are slim to none.

and if you're still bleeding, you're the lucky ones.

'cause most of our feelings, they are dead and they are gone.

we're setting fire to our insides for fun.

collecting pictures from a flood that wrecked our home,

it was a flood that wrecked this home.

- "Youth" by Daughter

CW for: implied/referenced sex, sexual humor/innuendos, references to blood, violence, and trauma, and implications of kink

Knox is a man with scars.

Jax has plenty of his own, of course, but Knox has a lot of scars. There's a story to most of them, too, and he's never shy about telling them. Hell, half the time he tells those stories completely unprompted, whether you want him to or not.

There's a scar on his chin from where Royal told him he couldn't knee slide the entire bar. There’s the ugly knot of scar tissue where his left arm used to be, where the port to his prosthetic is grafted on. There's the scar in his stomach from the mook Jax had to help him bury. There's a scar on his lip where he bit himself too hard with his freakishly sharp teeth trying to keep quiet while Jax bent him over the hood of his car outside Saints and Sinners in the wee hours of the morning.

He's particularly happy to blab the story about that one to anyone who'll listen.

But he doesn't talk about the scar across his throat.

As little clothing as he tends to wear on the day to day, ("As little as I can get away with," he says with a sleazy wink) his neck is always covered. High-collared shirts, a jauntily knotted scarf, decorative chokers and heavy leather collars always keep it covered. He'll flash his tits before he'll show his throat—but in all fairness, it's not really all that hard to get him to flash his tits.

Jax didn't even see the scar until the fourth or fifth inadvisable hate fuck, at which point he was beginning to think he didn't hate the merc quite as much as he thought, considering he kept letting the little bastard in when he showed up at the door out of nowhere—and didn't shoot him when he decided to forgo the door entirely and come in through the window. (Jax still can’t be sure how he even got to the window, seeing as Jax lives in an apartment well above ground level, but he figures he’s better off not asking.) He didn’t think to ask about it until he’d actually lost count of how many inadvisable hate-fucks there’d been, and when they’d progressed somehow from inadvisable hate-fucks to still pretty inadvisable but otherwise amicable casual fucks.

Knox was loose and relaxed, quiet in a way Jax didn't even think was possible when they first met. And, to think, all it took was shoving him face down into the pillows and thoroughly wearing him out. Usually, he rolled out of bed as soon as his legs could hold him again, commandeered Jax's shower, and used half a bottle of his expensive conditioner before he disappeared without so much as a thank you. This time, he stayed. He sprawled gracelessly across Jax's sweat-stained silk sheets, arms stretched over his head, eyes half-closed and his ever-smirking mouth curled into something softer... almost sweeter.

Jax doesn't know what possessed him to roll over, to reach out and touch, but he did. He started at the inner thigh, the bruises he'd left with teeth and then fingers, a rumbling of possessive pride stoking the banked coals of satisfaction in his belly. His knuckles skimmed the soft curve of the merc's belly, the angry red scar tissue of that knife wound, then higher still. Inked into his sternum is a coyote skull, surrounded by boldly outlined flowers that curve along the underside of his breasts. Jax was almost surprised by the softness of the design, especially in comparison to the rest of the merc's ink, like the crude stick-and-poke perforated line and little pair of scissors right above his prosthetic, or the dirty pinup of some generic muscled pretty boy on his bicep, or the peach on his inner thigh that bears an artful addition of a T-dick very much similar to Knox’s own.

He wondered vaguely if the flowers meant anything to Knox.

Before he could dwell on the uncomfortably tender direction his thoughts had taken, his fingers travelled upwards, flicking absently at one of the heavy, angular piercing through Knox's nipples. Knox huffed a rough laugh, watching the progress of Jax's hand through eyes narrowed to dozy, yellow slits.

He traced Knox's collarbone, and his body was all but melted into Jax's bed, soft and pliant. Like he belonged there.

And then Jax’s curiosity got the better of him. He saw the scar, a thin line, pale with age, but standing in stark relief against Knox's tanned skin. It sits at a bit of an angle, slicing across the middle of the merc's throat.

The second his fingers made contact, skimming that raised line of flesh, he knew he'd fucked up.

Knox's body went taut for a split second, and that was all the warning Jax got before Knox was twisting his wrist hard enough for the bones to grind together and snarling in his face like a wild animal. If his knives weren't two rooms away in his discarded pile of clothes, Jax knows he would have lost fingers.

For once, Knox didn't say anything. For once, he was dead silent, mouth a grim sneer, eyes flat and hard. He shoved Jax roughly off him and rolled out of bed. He didn't look back once, stalking out of Jax's bedroom naked, every inch of his compactly muscled body vibrating with tension. Jax heard the rustle of clothes, the jingle of buckles and zippers and a half dozen knives, and then the front door slamming shut.

He didn't see Knox again until Orla called them in for another job, and it was as if nothing had happened. He was his usual smug, annoying self, not a single break in his usual facade of irreverent humor and Napoleonic bravado.

And maybe some of Knox's reckless stupidity is rubbing off on him, because Jax can't shake the curiosity that grips him, even now. He shoves it down, naturally, because he doesn't want the batshit merc to get twitchy on him again when he's got enough knives on him at any given time to outfit a military squadron. Hell, for all Jax knows, that's the end of it. He's not going to go crawling back to Knox (even if the sex is really fucking good—it's always the crazy ones, isn’t it?) and he knows Knox won't come to him first.

Except he does, dragging Jax into one of the back rooms after a meeting with Orla, shoving him against the wall, and dropping to his knees. Things go right back to normal after that, or as normal as they ever are with Coyote Fucking Knox. And as normal as they can be once Orla oh-so-sweetly reminds him there are cameras in the back rooms, and if he doesn't want stills of his dick forwarded to the entire Mirage gang, he'll keep his and Knox's exhibitionism where she doesn't have to see it.

So Knox continues to invade Jax's privacy, steal petty shit from his apartment and/or pockets, and loudly demand that Jax fuck him hoarse (-er) if he wants him to shut up.

And he winds up tangled in Jax's sheets again, sprawled out on his belly with one leg tossed over Jax's thigh, his face smashed into a pillow, one smug yellow eye watching Jax try to catch his breath beside him.

He could let it be. It's not like this is anything but a convenience. Some fun between… well, they're definitely not friends. Coworkers, if anything, and even that's pushing it. For a while, Jax considered it a fair trade for dealing with Knox's bullshit constantly. Now, it's becoming a pattern, and when it comes to semi-regular sex with a stab-happy mercenary, patterns can be dangerous.

But he can't kill the curiosity.

He figures his best bet is being blunt. And maybe getting ready to dodge in the very likely event things go south. He doesn't touch this time, at least not where they aren't already, Knox’s knee between his legs, the skin feeling a bit feverish and clammy as the sweat cools. The urge to touch is still there—he left some nice bite marks on Knox's shoulders he'd like to reacquaint himself with—but he ignores it for now. He rolls onto his side, meets that one yellow eye with quiet consideration, and props his head up on his hand.

Knox must read the change in his face, because he goes from cat-got-the-cream contentment to a warily curious tension. Jax just goes right for the throat, so to speak. “Any chance of hearing the story behind that one?” he says, casual as anything, and nods in the vague direction of Knox’s neck.

There’s a growling noise building up behind Knox’s teeth, but he bites it back. He smiles, but it feels feral, like an animal baring its teeth looks like a smile, but it's really a threat. It looks brittle, like it'll shatter if he tightens his jaw any further.

Jax gives in to the urge, reaching out to touch, fingertips skimming down the mercenary's spine. A shiver ripples across the skin. He’s not sure if it’s the right move, but at this point, if you’re going to Hell...

“I don’t know,” Knox says flatly, and Jax is almost shocked he answered at all. There’s no inflection, no mirth. Just that broken-glass smile.

Jax snorts. Knox never fucking shuts up, that much is true, but Jax isn’t stupid. He knows when someone’s talking a lot and saying nothing of importance on purpose, and he also knows when Knox can’t deflect, he lies his ass off like he was born to do it. Even Orla barely knows anything about her least favorite favorite merc or where he came from, though the chances of her caring enough to even try to find out are slim to none. Still, he has no idea what the mercenary even has to gain from lying, especially here. "If you don't want to say anything, just tell me to fuck off."

The knife edge smile stretches wider. Tips closer to the breaking point. "Fuck off," he echoes like a parrot.

Something starts to uncurl in Jax's gut, something burbling and acidic, a nasty niggling feeling he can't quite name. "You're serious," he says, and he doesn't want to believe it, mostly because he can't imagine someone like Knox taking that sort of… personal unknown well. “Nothing?”

The smile cracks, and Knox lifts his head so Jax gets the full effect of it. His eyes are wide, wild, and suddenly that smile is too big for his face. Slowly, he sits up, and there's the scar. Old and faded, but splitting his throat neatly and boldly from east to west. He drags his thumb across it, digs it in hard enough the white scar tissue goes a bit pink. He laughs. He's never had a pleasant laugh, rough and raspy and mean. Somehow, this one is worse. “Not a lick,” he drawls, and the effort it takes him to sound so casual almost makes Jax cringe. “There’s a reason Orla found me in the fuckin’ bargain bin.” He taps his temple, his messily painted nail clicking against the chip in his head.

Jax’s eyes flick down to the scar, frowning deeply. It doesn’t make sense. Knox is deflecting again, he has to be, but there’s something in the way he’s holding himself, the tension radiating from him, the way he slumps against the headboard of Jax’s bed with his knees pulled up, not quite close enough to hug to his chest, but more like he’s thinking about it, resisting the urge to physically hold himself together and risk looking weak.

"I have nightmares, sometimes," he admits, so soft the syllables catch on the rough edges of his ragged voice. "They never make any fucking sense. I'm just… I'm choking. Something’s cutting into my neck, and there’s someone behind me, and I know them, but— But I'm guilty? I don't know for what." He laughs, bitterly brittle. "Could be fucking anything. Got a lot to be guilty for that I can remember, never mind what I can't."

He inhales, and it sounds like it hurts him, like his breath is made of shards of glass. He drags his hand down his face until he can curl his fingers around his throat so the scar doesn't show. "I just know there's this perfume Orla wears that makes me want to climb the fucking walls and I don't know why. I think I know how to play the piano, but I can’t even look at one without wanting to smash it to pieces. Sometimes I hear some… some fucking opera song, or some shit? And I know the words, and I want to sing along, but then my voice just—just cracks, and I feel like… like a broken fucking wind-up toy? It's like my head doesn't remember anything, but the rest of me does and it makes me so fucking angry. What am I missing? Why does it matter?” His voice hitches dangerously, and there’s a stab of panic in Jax’s belly, his hands twitching like they want to—to reach out? “Why can’t it just leave me the fuck alone?"

Knox squeezes his own throat so hard the skin dimples around his fingers and bleeds white where he’s cutting off bloodflow. His shoulders tremble. There's something in the furrow of his brow, the twist of his mouth, that says angry isn't the only thing it makes him, but he either doesn't have the words to say it, or he just won't, not even to himself.

The silence falls again. Jax always thought he preferred silence where Knox was concerned. Turns out he was wrong. This silence is brutal, heavy and choking and just… wrong. When Knox does see fit to break it, it's with a loud exhale that almost makes Jax start.

"Would you look at the time," the merc says loudly, shaking out his bare wrist and looking at it critically. Jax could almost laugh. Knox tosses his legs over the edge of the bed smiling crookedly over his shoulder. "I should really head out, huh? Don't wanna overstay my welcome."

Before he can think, Jax snaps a hand out and catches Knox’s hip, squeezing. Not enough to stop him if he really wants to go, but enough to give him pause. Once again, Jax counts himself lucky they rarely make it to the bedroom before one or both of them are naked, which means all those knives are somewhere by the door, or scattered across his coffee table, or in the leather jacket tossed over the back of his couch. Coyote turns slightly, just enough to eyeball him. Just one yellow eye.

There's a lot Jax could say, a lot he even wants to, but there's something raw in that one yellow eye, something wary and broken that just wants to hide somewhere quiet and lick its wounds. They've been at this for way too fucking long at this point, Jax should know what to do with that, shouldn't he?

Maybe he does.

He snorts. "When the fuck have you ever cared about overstaying your welcome?" He smacks Knox's hip just on the wrong side of gentle, and rolls over. "You're not leaving until you help me change these sheets. Hell, maybe if I'm feeling generous, I'll let you back in bed after we shower."

He pushes up to his feet and stretches out the kinks in his muscles, allowing himself to luxuriate in the pleasant soreness leftover from their romp. Knox is quiet behind him, and he can't really think of when he actually started to trust the crazy bastard enough to turn his back to him.

Knox makes a rough little sound, something not quite a laugh. "Is that an order, Sir?" he asks, low and raspy-sweet.

Jax glances back with a raised eyebrow. "Do I need to make it one?"

#remember you will die #rywd #vapolis #rywd jax #rywd fanfic #rywd merc #pidge writes #oc: coyote knox #idk take the warnings into account for ur own comfort #this is more about the vulnerability and the tenderness between two deeply emotionally stunted idiots #anyway i have been picking at this on my bus rides to/from work for the last week #and performing narrative surgery to fix a screwup (bc i cant read apparently gfhdjg) proved to be a solid warmup #for diving into those comms #so uh #here we go! #enjoy i guess!

[tricktster]

To be perfectly honest, they’re my third and fourth plushes, but I’ve been needle felting for a long time and sculpting for a lot longer before that, so even though I’m still very new to sewing, I had a lot of the prerequisite knowledge about how to make a cute animal, and I also had an embarrassingly complete collection of safety eyes and noses.

Here’s a non-exhaustive album of my progress in figuring out how to make plush animals (god, I only have WIP pictures of like 2/3 of these):

Needlefelting:

(The only problem with needle felting is that it’s additive, like sculpting - you can keep adding to them until you’re “done,” which makes it really hard to ever be done. Catopus remains my most ambitious felted project, and that bastard is NEVER gonna be done.)

Sewed animals:

This little axolotl was my first true plush animal - it’s made out of fleece, which is a pretty forgiving fabric for beginners.

This little felt axie was my second plush - this one, I actually sewed by hand, which was a PROJECT for me, but really taught me the important hand stitching techniques that you need on most plush animals.

Baby bear was mostly machine sewed, and was my first stuffed animal made out of faux fur, which - I might have mentioned - is TRICKY. However, I made baby bear after I made my niece a pair of slipper paws, and those were a lot more challenging for many reasons - by this point, I’d worked out most of the kinks in my process.

Mama bear came together faster than you could have believed, because by that point, I had my process DOWN.

That said, it’s still kind of wild to look back on my progress. I got my very first sewing machine a few months ago to make cloth facemasks (like everyone else), and I’d never even touched one before, much less had any instruction on how to take a project from paper pattern to fully executed project. It probably wasn’t the ideal way to learn the basics, since I am SURE I could have used the expertise of a teacher with a lot of experience (especially in the beginning). 

On the other hand, going into this without any baseline knowledge of how to sew meant that I was totally free of pre-conceived constraints or limitations when I was working through the process of going from pattern to final product. I worked out a method of automating a lot of steps that would otherwise be a real challenge for a beginner through the use of some basic illustration software and my cricut. I’ll do a separate post to show the process I came up with, since I honestly think it’s pretty cool and it might be helpful to some other people. 

#sewing #plush making #needlefelting

[i-did]

Ok ok this may be a dumb question but we'll see, what are your thoughts on bdsm + andreil? The vast vast majority of these types of fics have Andrew as the dom (and I get why) BUT theres 1 dom Neil fic and I'm like 99% sure I think I saw u comment on it so I'm assuming ur reading it and enjoying it too. And tbh, I find it much better than pretty much all the dom Andrew stuff, I hadnt realised the potential dom Neil could have until I read it. But anyway, I wanted ur thoughts? 🤲 (this is so badly phrased I apologise)

Lmfaooo being perceived is so weird. I hope I didn't say anything because I remember commenting on that fic and thinking about commenting something about my personal sex life, but I don't remember if I did lmfaooo. Omg okay, all that aside–time to now respond to this seriously.

Okay regarding that specific fic, yeah I read a lot of AFTG fics of all types, I haven't read something NSFW in a while, but when I saw the ‘Dom!Neil’ tag I decided to give it a shot. It’s interesting seeing how other authors go about their ideas and just enjoying their story. It doesn’t align with my personal ideas of everything obviously, but those are my personal HC and that fic is that authors personal HC. I like that they’re exploring something that this fandom doesn’t see explored a lot and is just a fun read, lol. Honestly I give up on most BDSM fandom fics because the depiction of Neil makes me uncomfortable ...almost always. I agree a lot more with this fics concept of how they would explore power vs control in a BDSM sexual sense, than most Dom!Andrew Sub!Neil fics– which I have long ago stopped trying to read.

Okay here are my personal ideas about Andrew and Neil, and how they would explore sex.

Many NSFW HC below the cut:

I personally don’t think canon Andrew and Neil would go into BDSM culture or ascribe to either roll strictly. I feel they wouldn’t like established dynamics like that and would get turned off by that aspect, especially since Andrew both craves control of situations but fears ‘being like them’ and a lot of Dom play is about power dynamics that he wouldn't be comfortable with. Andrew sees power in sex as different as control during sex. He needs a controlled environment, and be in control of the other by having them listen to his boundaries, but he can’t feel he’s overpowering the other person. I don’t think he could do a lot of strictly Sub things either for similar reasons, he would feel like he's giving up control of the situation in a way that could make him very uncomfortable.

Neil on the other hand is also often portrayed as a very textbook sub, but I don't think he is. I see him written as a brat a lot, but personally I don’t see him doing that since a lot of what playing with a brat is, is giving them what they want and denying them what they want and them ‘defying you’ and stuff. It's like a form of playful miscommunication I don't see Andrew or Neil ever actually doing. Obviously all healthy and proper play is outlined and discussed beforehand, but I see Andrew and Neil as needing the actions themselves to be clear and cut and dry.

Neil also gets off on Andrews pleasure, Andrew is the same about Neil, they're almost like a feedback loop of “the other enjoying themselves is inherently hot.” to me, Neil getting off on other people (Andrew) getting off is a very Dom like quality. In turn, Andrew is very turned on by pleasuring Neil, but from the point of his knees, which is almost sub like, he is turned on by sucking someone else off and seeing how into it they are. Either way, I think they both wouldn’t be into hardcore BDSM or BDSM culture but also aren’t vanilla. I don’t see either of them going to leather clubs instead of Edens and going to Folsom Fair and joining BDSM social groups and stuff.

I also don’t think either would ever use titles for the other, I think they don’t call each other by their names often on a day-to-day basis, since usually the people were talking to already know their name, and we don’t need to use it for clarification. I do think–just like in canon with emotionally charged moments–names will be used with more emphasis, especially Abram which is not used frequently.

Side note about my Jewish Neil HC: Judaism rocks because sex isn’t shamed, but rather considered a blessing and a holy act. In fact, it’s a good thing to have sex on Shabbat, G-d is actively like ‘fuck yeah you little humans, enjoy life’s pleasures and each other's company’ sex was designed to feel good and a way to connect. Shabbat is all about human connection with those important to us, and a day of rest away from work, so sex on Shabbat is actually actively a good thing. I don’t think Neil is ever religiously Jewish, but Andrew making a joke about this once would be peak to me. Which also fits Abram, a very Jewish name I HC to be not just Neil’s middle name but his Jewish name, and is used in said holy context of sex.

I think like a lot of healthy adults who are sexually active, they will explore and will be more adventurous to try new and other things, especially when dealing with issues like waning to get off but having touch aversion and issues like that. I have a lot of sex life HC about them actually, ways they navigate erectile dysfunction, mental health, and what they like in a safe environment. They trust each other, and I like imagining different ways aspects of their relationship would change or evolve in my head in all different types of ways, including sexual. I also enjoy giving them kinks and inclinations I specifically don’t have, because it’s like me exploring the concept of why someone else might like something even though I personally don’t. I’m not imagining things that make me uncomfortable necessarily, just things I'm neutral on or don’t see the appeal of, but know why they appeal to others and try to imagine what these characters might think.

I feel canon Andrew and Neil explore sex and dynamics that make them comfortable, I have HC about Andrew possibly exploring pup play and wearing a collar for Neil partially as a “joke” in the beginning, but discovering they really like it. I also HC Neil is really into athletic stuff sexually, he thinks Andrew half dressed with his padding still on and a jock strap is just peak sex appeal. I also think Neil is very sensory, and makes associations with smells and senses easily, so he develops a sweat kink, which leads into his armpit kink. Neil isn't turned on by ‘the bad smell of sweat’ but rather the fact that when Andrew is sweaty he smells like Andrew a lot, rather than after a shower he smells more like soap, and he can’t smell Andrew as much. Andrew on the other hand prefers cleaner sex. He’s not triggered by dirty sex though– he used to suck guys off at an alt dance club and is used to the smell of sweaty balls, it's just not an active turn on. Neil has ‘nothing is hotter than Andrew wearing running shoes and socks, and only running shoes and socks’ energy to me too. I think Andrew feels good about himself in leather, but isn't going to be a leather daddy and wear the leather assless chaps and the cap, he will wear the leather harness that every gay wears to pride, but he wears it just for Neil. Also, Neil loves Andrews pecs, Neil’s kinda a boob guy, but for Andrew’s pecs specifically.

I personally think Andrew and Neil typically don’t have penetrative sex. They do it sometimes–and when Andrew is ready he will bottom more as a way to prove something to himself than anything–but it’s not their preferred way or their ‘go to’. When they finally do, they don’t see it as ‘finally having sex for the first time’, since all the sex they've been having is real sex, even if its oral, hand jobs, etc. I don’t think Neil is naturally inclined to bottoming, and since even the visual of topping can make Andrew uncomfortable, they enjoy sex in any other ways, thigh fucking, docking, Andrew fucking Neil’s ass cheeks, sucking each other off, mutual masturbation, frottage, etc. and it leads to stronger orgasms when they don’t have to hope ever second will be a cliff edge and turn into a panic attack. Safer waters are simply more comfortable for them to swim in, and they deem all sex as equal in ‘value.’ that being said, Andrew likes his ass being ate, as long as its just Neil’s tongue, while Neil is neutral on his ass being ate, but loves doing it to Andrew.

I also think they would explore toys, but not in the way they're often explored in fics, which is very vibrator and dildo centric. I think they would use jacking off toys, the disposable egg kind or some more long term ones, maybe even something they could use at the same time. I don’t see them ever actually using handcuffs or restraints really either. Andrew would see Neil tied up as an equivalent statement of ‘I don't trust you not to touch me’ when he wants to actively progress past that, and shows he trusts Neil by not holding his arms back or letting him touch him. Andrew had to hold down previous partners, but Neil is different, Neil listens. This isn’t my personal opinion about restraint, but it is what I think Andrew would think.

I have no idea if this is what you meant by ‘my thoughts’ but here they are. *puts something in your open palms,* idk what emoji that would be

#ask #aftg #aftg headcanons #nsft #OSHA violation #mailob

[bleulone]

i love your analysis so much! i have a question as well, like, how do you envision polin's sex scenes ? thanks for your answer (:

    Hey! Thank you very much :)) I have no idea if they are that even good but I’m happy you like them. It’s just my brain tending to produce some iNsIGhiTfUL analyses though they usually end up drowned under a huge wave of stupidity and horrid spelling/grammatical mistakes XD. So, about Penelope and Colin’ sex scenes, I guess we’re getting spicy in this house 🌶. I mean, I don’t blame you. Who’s not hot for Polin ?! The steamy Polin hours have already begun and they’re legit challenging my patience. (Be still my Polin heart, be still).

   Okay, without further ado, let’s talk about sex baby, shall we ? It’s a pretty long answer/meta so bear with me.

    I don’t know if you’ve read Romancing Mister Bridgerton, but a quick reminder (for those who haven’t... yet), there are a bunch of iconic steamy scenes that I’m dying to watch on screen. First we have the famous “thank you” scene where Penelope, now a 28 year-old spinster, asks Colin to kiss her because she doesn’t want to die without having been kissed... then ends up thanking him— which happens to be humiliating for our 33 year-old boy because he thinks that she thinks he did it out of pity while he absolutely did not. The man definitely felt butterflies in his stomach... and in other places as well lol. We also have the ICONIC carriage scene where Colin gives Pen’s generous bosoms™ the attention they deserve. This is followed by his proposal. Later on, after the announcement of their engagement, there’s a pretty hot make-out scene on Lady Violet’s sofa. Finally, we have their first time in Colin’s bedroom, after sneaking out of their own engagement party... which leads Colin to push the wedding date forward. At this point, I just love their horniness, especially Colin’s who’s just so freaking amazed by Penelope for more than 300 pages straight (duh! who isn’t ???).

    When you say envision, I suppose you mainly refer to the way those scenes will be filmed right ? I’m afraid I don’t have an advanced knowledge in film-making but let me start by telling you what elements need to be depicted. I would love Shonda and Chris to capture the real essence of our boos’ feelings : the yearning, the love, the respect and the guilt (specifically on Colin’s side) in their eyes. The more we move forward throughout the seasons, the more we see different layers of the perceptions of they have of each other, going from a childish idealization/immature ignorance to a sudden realization. A mature one. Penelope goes beyond the facade of the charming devil-may-care guy to meet the seriousness and temper of her significant other. Meanwhile Colin discovers how confident, powerful and attractive this woman is and always has been. It echoes what I’ve written about the importance of the gaze in Polin’s love story in this meta. By the time season 4 hits, man... their heart eyes and eye-fucking will jump OUT XD, all fibers of their beings, burning with need. The fact that this evolution took literally years is very emotionally painful, which is why I find it important to keep the slowness aspect of their relationship before and during their love making. I’m really looking forward a slow build-up toward their intimacy. It would differ from Daphne and Simon who merely shared one hell of a kiss in Lady Trowbridge’s garden then shared their sexy times after they married or Anthony and Siena’s rough sex... In fact, there’s a certain (sweet) ardent tenderness in Polin I like due to the fact that they’re slowly (re)discovering each other, as adults. Since they were both introduced in season 1, the audience will have all the time in the world to notice numerous evidences of the many natures of love they have for one another : from an affectionate and friendly love to a more carnal and enduring one.

    Okay so, in terms of filming, with Netflix’s Bridgerton being a show which promotes the female gaze, it wouldn’t be that much of a surprise watching those sex scenes being shot from Penelope’s perspective, like it was the case with Daphne in the first installment of the series. Most of the time, sex scenes in Historical Romance are not gratuitous. Their presence serve an important purpose in a hero/heroine’s journey. In Penelope’s case, they’re here to help her learn to embrace and love herself. In other words, sexuality is synonym of freedom. I don’t know if they’ll show a lot of skin, but I won’t be complaining considering the fact that we’ll have the chance to get a chief kiss treat on screen : a plus size woman in a major successful Netflix period drama getting a love story as romantic and steamy as other more “fit” female characters. No, your weight doesn’t prevent you from being desirable at all. As far as I’m concerned, I haven’t watched a plus-size female character portrayed as an attractive protagonist in a period drama (please if you have, let me know, I can be wrong). Having a beautiful half bare curvy body like Nicola’s being equally filmed like numerous slim actresses will be so inspiring and powerful to watch, especially for (young) women who struggle, like Penelope, to love their body shape which, to them, doesn’t “fit” the “beauty standards”. By showing her female gaze and portraying her as seductive, Pen’s “supposed” imperfections transform themselves into mighty assets, loved and worshipped by our dashing Mister Bridgerton. That’s body positivity at its finest darling ;).

    It will be deliciously erotic watching the undressing process being exquisitely slow, garment by garment, while their gaze are all heated and hungry. Their sex/make-out scenes should be tender and passionate, sweet and raw. The lightning, colored by a dark blood orange yellow or a blue depending the locations^^. Moreover, the depiction of the exploration of Penelope’s desire can translate itself thanks to multiple close ups. For instance, I can imagine a few ones on Pen’s fingers gently roaming over the smooth skin of Colin’s firm chest and back/touching his hair right after he removed his shirt. And a disheveled Colin letting his hands and lips making a journey of their own, mapping, conquering the alluring unknown territory that is her gorgeous voluptuous body... kissing her on the places he knows oh too well will give her pleasure (is this me wanting him to go down on her?— um yeah I sure hope it IS! If he doesn’t, trust me imma riot... AGAIN). Even a close up on her face while Colin is performing his addictively pleasing torment will be a marvelous proof of the female gaze. By the way, why not even adding a post-coital scene after their first time ? I can picture Penelope waking up first and contemplate her handsome soon-to-be husband. She’d bring her hand to his face and let it travel all around his forehead, his cheeks, his lips, his neck and let it rest on his heart— making sure that what she’s just experience was real... obviously, Colin will wake up in the process and he’ll take this as his cue to go for another round of sexy times under the sheets.

   Showing Pen reaction is essential according to me because she was stuck with the idea that she would never experience the luxury of being loved, giving pleasure nor receiving it... she ended up being happily wrong. Throughout her multiple intimate encounters with Colin, I want her to progressively realizes that she can be an active partner. In the carriage, she knew she had an effect on him, but it’s not until their first time that she actually realizes it. Hence the reason why I WANT the mirror’s introduction in one of their sex scenes. Here’s as a little reminder an excerpt from chapter 18 :

“I want to see you sitting up," he groaned, "so I can see them full and lovely and large [about Pen’s breasts]. And then I want to crawl behind you and cup you." His lips found her ear and his voice dropped to a whisper. "And I want to do it in front of a mirror."

“Now?” she squeaked.

He seemed to consider that for a moment, then shook his head. "Later," he said, and then repeated it in a rather resolute tone. "Later.”

   It would be such a shame if the show doesn’t use the incredible potential of this object (/kink). I mean, the symbolism is pretty clear. Penelope has always fled her “ugly” reflection but it seems like Colin wants to show the real her, the beauty that holds every single inch her alabaster skin and the effects they have on him. Thus, I would love to watch a scene where Colin just praises the alluring goddess and siren that is Penelope Featherington. Just imagine! Just IMAGINE the power of this scene : a shirtless Colin sitting behind her on a bed, meeting her gaze in the mirror, his lips touching her right ear, biting and licking the lobe sometimes, whispering all kinda of dirty yet poetic words to her while letting his hands caress her thighs, her hips, her arms, her lovely bosoms™... oof. At the same time, a wonderful and harmonic instrumental music will play in the background and match the melodic partition of shudders, breathes and moans let out by our lovers. I can imagine Luke inspiring himself from his performance in the 2019 short film, Youth In Bed. The way he conveyed the awe and the yearning on his face, in his eyes with his mouth slightly open when he knelt before his partner Shun Yin was just captivating and— and so Colin! I cannot help but bring myself to picture Ethan, the character he played in YIB, in a Polin steamy scene. I cannot unsee this anymore jsksk. I mean, all this gifset radiates this book4chapter18!Colin, you cannot tell me otherwise!

    Also, I would love Shonda and Chris to keep Pen and Colin’s cute/emotional pillow talk. One thing I really love in JQ’s books is the concern she gives to her male protagonists about potentially hurting their partner during the act of penetration. Colin is a rake, and what his experience with women taught him is that he needs to be very gentle with the love of his life. It was so adorable seeing him not wanting to harm her and asking her to tell him if he does anything she doesn’t like 🥺. Plus, before actually doing it, Colin and Penelope shared a few kisses and just laid down side by side, confessing their love. Though our boy kept feeling guilty about not returning her love after all these years. He desires nothing but to make up for the lost time and show his love and desire during this special intimate moment. I hope they’ll keep all of chapter 18’s dialogue. It’s just so telling of our boos’ feelings, you see.

    All in all, I can’t wait to watch those Polin steamy scenes. As much as I may sound crazy, I want them after two other seasons of pure pining and yearning in order to have a very good payoff. I’m not an expert on depicting intimacy on screen, but I loved so far what Lizzy Talbot, the intimacy coordinator who worked on the show, have done in season 1. Sex scenes in Bridgerton seem very real and dive you in the intimacy of the moment, leaving you all flustered and hot. So probs to her! I have faith in her work and have no doubts about what her and the directors will serve us in future seasons. Though, in the end, I think it’s mostly up to the actors, Nicola and Luke, to see if they’re comfortable filming sex scenes.

    If you guys have any suggestions or wishes for those steamy polin scenes, please do share them :) by commenting on this post or by sending me asks! I’d love reading your thoughts/take on this very important matter ;)) 

#bleulone answers #meta and gush #polin #colin x penelope #bridgerton #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #polin meta #ask #anon #luke newton #julia quinn #nicola coughlan

[needleanddead]

🎂 and 🌌 for Constance, Lucas and Cass? If your still taking these!!! Thank you!

🎂 BIRTHDAY CAKE - when is their birthday? do they like celebrating it?

Constance's birthday is the 15th of September! She's a Virgo. She likes celebrating her birthday, but she generally has to spoil herself nowadays now that her Daddy's gone. She's never had many friends. She'll often take herself out to tea and buy something incredibly expensive and indulgent.

. . . Lucas is a Cancer but I appear to have forgotten the actual date so I'm telling you that it's the 10th of July! He doesn't celebrate his birthday because to be perfectly honest, he doesn't like himself, and he doesn't see it as something worth celebrating. If his beloved wanted to celebrate for him, though, he'd be touched and choked up about it.

Cass's birthday is the 1st of June! He's a Gemini. He loves his birthday on the surface, because it's a day all about him so why wouldn't he? He can very easily slip into melancholy about it, though, so he tries to ensure he's at least in town when it rolls around so he can get lost in booze or in other people.

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

Cass originally belonged to a universe that I've had since I was about twelve; it's very much a like . . . comfort collection of characters and plots I occasionally return to when I'm burnt out and sad! It's mostly a vampire universe (though occasionally populated with other mythical beings); in that universe, he's still an artist, but he's also the torture specialist and second in command of I guess the villainous faction of vampires and the occasional lover of their leader. He still only has one eye, but he removed it himself whilst fucking around with magic instead!

His inspiration as a murder OC is very rooted in my own personal interest in gothic horror and romance! The whole brooding, aristocratic charismatic villain living in a ramshackle crumbling mansion in the middle of nowhere, the tragic backstory that still doesn't justify him using innocents in search of something that's just out of his reach. His story beats are also very heavily influenced by the Picture of Dorian Gray, which is one of my personal favourite novels! He's . . . he's a lot of things and I love talking about them honestly.

Constance is a natural progression of all the fluffy, pretty girls in cupcake dresses that I've been drawing creepy cuted up for years and years! She's actually the only one that really exists to be a 'Murder OC' and doesn't have her roots somewhere else! I don't remember if I've mentioned on this blog, but I wear lolita and there's a . . . very weird dichotomy where people either think it's a kink thing or think you're a cutesy baby angel who would never even think about blood because you are busy watching your children's anime or whatever. Constance is partly a way for me to put the power in her hands; she's pretty and delicate and utterly terrifying (and she gets really, really pissed off if you think her clothes are a kink thing). Lots of lolita have nurse and medical themes, too, so making her a kind of 'plastic surgeon' seemed a reasonable choice! Her story is very much about the pursuit of beauty and love in the face of a world that doesn't quite understand you.

Lucas's original story is a zombie apocalypse universe wherein he's the de facto leader or a ragtag group of survivors, but there's something . . . weird about him. Honestly, he's not all that important in that universe - but he's been very popular here! I definitely wanted him to be a very traditional yandere type; the kind of man who wants to keep you safe despite knowing that people like him are the reason the world is unsafe to begin with. His delusions are probably the most important thing about his character; he knows what he does is wrong, so he rationalises it by thinking of all the awful things he saw human beings do during his military service as 'other humans deserve to die'. He knows that his diet isn't normal, he knows that most people would be disgusted, so he rationalises that by thinking of himself as separate to other humans and on top of the food chain. He knows that his MC generally does not really love him, that he shouldn't have kidnapped and sequestered them - and he rationalises that by thinking he's keeping them safe . . . and then by telling himself that they do love him anyway, and they're just shy.

#ask game #lucas tag #cass tag #constance tag

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Lovebug (8/12)

Summary:  

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Notes: Feedback is very much appreciated :D

Levi put a hard deadline for Wednesday

“Wednesday” he said it again because he couldn’t be too certain how he said it the first time. He was conscious if he were too stiff, it might almost seem awkward. If he were too relaxed, maybe the urgency wouldn’t get across.

The challenge was finding the balance and when his team nodded, their faces unchanging, he realized it had been an easy task. They had gone through that same pattern before, especially before a large-scale quality assurance test, a recalibration of the application.

And the one on Monday was much larger, covering not just fifty volunteers, maybe even hundreds. When it was Zeke’s own connections that had managed to get that many volunteers, they couldn’t afford to delay it.

Levi cleared his throat and continued. “All fixes should be completed by Wednesday. All QA and regression tests by Friday,” Levi added. “The large scale QA test will be happening on Monday. No negotiations. No chances of rescheduling. ”

Aside from the number of volunteers, that QA test should not be anything different. Nothing much changed except perhaps the fact that Levi was in a constant state of compartmentalizing. He was working partly with outsourced labor to complete the code and to make sure someone was testing their new application. He was also working with his own team to make sure they were still addressing issues and realising fixes for the love alarm.

He liked the busy-ness, the need to be constantly thinking about work. Sometimes though, there were more distracting prospects that forced their way into his limited brainspace. And for some reason, his brain space was so willing to accommodate it.

More specifically, to accommodate her. Well, he had no choice anyway. After all, it was her application. It was his brain child but by extension, it was her and Zeke’s property.

He was constantly in a state of stress and Hange’s presence only made things more stressful. But somehow, his brain demanded he forced that extra piece of information, that piece of responsibility, that piece of Hange somewhere in his brain.

Just like he couldn’t say no to Zeke and Hange, he couldn’t say no to the manifestations of his own mind.

She never gave him a chance to say no. After all, she liked working in his office. She had made herself at home on the desk next to him and everyday he was reminded of that extra compartment his brain had created just for him.

All he had to do was enter the room and enjoy the view of her hunched over her laptop like she always was.

First thing in the morning, she was there. After meetings and standups with his team, he would go back to his office like always, and she was there.

That time, all test devices were lined on the desk, the whiteboard that only that morning had been covered with scribbles was replaced with something a little more coherent.

“You’re testing?” Levi sat next to her, counting ten devices before deciding it would be a waste of time to count further. He looked back up at her.

Hange nodded. “You updated the build last Friday right?”

“Just some fixes,” Levi said. The fixes came slowly, with more data being added, with the algorithm being tested here and there. It was still far from perfect though. He scanned the whiteboard just to get an inkling of her own progress. “How many pseudo emails do you have?” He could have counted it himself but once again, he gave up after ten.

“Enough to test on this many devices,” Hange said.

He read them out loud, taking note of the checkmarks..

Wingsoffreedom123

Wingsoffreedom213

Wingsoffreedom231

Wingsoffreedom321

Wingsoffreedom312

Wingsoffreedom132

“Creative,” Levi commented.

“Look, I just need a bunch of emails that are easy to remember so might as well stick to the same combination,” Hange said. “ You get it, Humanity’s strongest?”

Levi cringed inwardly. He should really go around changing that name. “Do you actually use those emails?” He asked.

“Sometimes, when applying for free trials, when making more than one account in websites.” Hange said. “I like keeping my own consumption patterns not connected to ‘Hange Zoe,’ if you know what I mean.”

“At least you’re able to make use of those emails for testing.” Levi pulled his chair a little closer to her and looked over her shoulder. “Is it working better?”

“It rings,” Hange said. “The last five times I tested, they said I was happy.” She chose that moment to click ‘activate’ on the next alarm. As expected, it rang again, the words ‘happy” flashed in the middle of the screen with an ugly smiley face in Arial font right under it.

It was a blatantly horrible sign that maybe they had spent a little too much time on the back end. Front end and user interface could be fixed a little later anyway, Levi reminded himself. He brought out his own test device and pressed the activate button.

The word ‘happy’ flashed across the screen. “Looks like they fixed a lot of the kinks,” Levi said.

“Are you happy?” Hange asked.

Those types of questions were the ones that had him a little more self aware. He didn’t answer immediately, instead, he left his natural instincts speak for themselves. A smile threatened to creep up his lips overwhelming the small part of him that wanted to push it down into something more subtle.

“Levi, are you happy?” Hange pressed, a hint of a laugh in her voice.

He was. He couldn't tell exactly why. Overall, it had seemed much easier, to just let the smile climb up his face so he gave it facility, freedom to move.

And soon, he didn’t regret it. Maybe because his own smile had been the reason Hange’s eyes got bigger before her features softened into something comfortable within a few seconds.

Before Levi could appreciate them a little more, her eyes suddenly narrowed, as if studying him. He noted all of it in her expression, the triumph, the victory lap in her expression, and the sneer particularly evident in her eyes.

He didn’t want her to win that little game they had for themselves. So he turned back, allowing time for the smile to fall into something less embarrassing. “Well, if the application says I’m happy, maybe I am.” He stood up again, holding his laptop to his side. “I’m going out for a break.”

***

Summer was ending soon.

And for Levi, the end was usually accompanied by the relief that he wouldn’t have to brave public transportation under the sweltering heat while dealing with an office dress code.

Strangely, he also found himself a little melancholic as he noted that red leaves were starting to sprout more frequently among the branches. He considered it almost an obligation to take a walk twice or thrice a week, especially during those last few weeks.

He would sit on one of the benches by the garden. To save time, he would bring his laptop every single time and he would always allow himself short in-betweens to enjoy his surroundings after long minutes of staring at the screen.

Like always, the trees were above him and the flowers were in front of him. When he looked down, he even enjoyed the grass and the cobblestone lined paths.

“You take the same route every time.”

Levi looked up, an instinctive reaction to that very familiar, almost intimate voice. “You followed me?”

“What if I wanted to take a walk too?” Hange asked.

“You're welcome to take a walk. I’m just gonna do some work here before going back inside,” Levi said. He looked back at the screen in front of him, trying to find something to make progress with as he monitored the workflow tracker.

Nothing much had changed or was expected to change, his own staff was probably on lunch break. He trusted them enough to be certain they would get most of their work done by Wednesday. And consequently, he was left with nothing much else to do but maybe take a lunch break too.

Hange sat right next to him on the bench and Levi pulled away, far enough to put a good few inches between them. “You’re going out more often now,” Hange said.

“I noticed I’ve been spending too much time indoors. I never really got to enjoy summer for what it was. We only get it three months a year.”

Hange gave him a knowing look. “And you only noticed it now? After living in this city your whole life?” She asked. “You’ve lived here your whole life right?”

“Yeah,” Levi said.

Hange shrugged. “You just never struck me as the type to enjoy weather, or nature in general. Back in the golf course, back in the ocean, you didn’t look like you wanted to be there,” she noted.

“Maybe it’s a recent thing,” Levi said. He kept it vague, not wanting to probe any complex topics when he was grappling with more important complex things.

Hange though, was a black hole of knowledge, a bundle overflowing with curiosity. “What makes it pretty? Why do you like taking walks?”

“Do we have to have a reason?”

“Well ever since I started to work closely with you, I started to notice something too,” Hange said. “You seem happier.”

“Maybe because Zeke is always busy.”

Hange snorted. “You really hate him don’t you?” She leaned a little closer. “And aren’t you at all nervous admitting it to me?” An overly playful demeanor accompanied such intimidating words. It was more laughable than terrifying.

Levi shook his head, unfazed. “I trust you wouldn’t tell him.”

“I wouldn’t,” she admitted. “I don’t blame you though.” She only had to give him an almost pitied look for him to read her mind.

He articulated it for her. “I never really recovered from those two all-nighters cramming an application.” That had been more than three months ago but the memory still burned as a faint memory of excruciating exhaustion and an unpleasant caffeine buzz that took weeks to brush off.

“You managed to impress the hospital admin at least. And we got the funds,” Hange said.

Does that make Zeke any more of an insufferable person? He had hoped to ask that with the face he gave Hange then, one eyebrow raised. If it didn’t send the message, he could easily say it out loud. That one pleasantry Zeke afforded him though that day in front of the convenience store echoed in his head. Even just coming up with an insult sent a wave of guilt through him.

A wave of guilt I don’t need to feel. Levi reminded himself, willing to recall the other instances the blond had been abrasive. Zeke was either a master manipulator or misunderstood. He was a billionaire though, so Levi decided to err on the side of ‘manipulator.’

“The funds go to the company, to the outsourcing activities and to server space,” Levi corrected.

“Don’t you have company shares?” Hange asked.

“A stock option,” Levi clarified. “Something I chose not to take. I’d rather get my money as is. I don’t trust myself to grow something of that much value.” He kept his answers vague, since he never did read the contract closely anyway, it was Erwin who went through the benefits with him.

“Well everyone else in the company who runs on stock options seems to trust you. Zeke’s own investment is riding on your own ability to make a good product...” My PhD dreams are riding on your product. Hange didn’t say that last part out loud but Levi heard it loud and clear.

“Well this pseudo love alarm project, it’s still far from perfect.” For emphasis, he opened up the new project entitled ‘emotion alarm project’ on his dashboard and slipped the laptop screen over to Hange. “Thirty percent done. We barely fixed the interface, just getting the required testing and data done is taking up a lot of resources.”

“I know that and I expected it,” Hange said. “You know, a PhD sometimes takes decades to complete and I’m ready to take that much time.”

“I just wanna manage your expectations. Besides, something about the testing still bothers me.”

“What about it?”

“Remember the first night I made the application?” He stifled a wince at the painful memory. “It didn’t ring… until you came in.”

“Maybe it was a bug?” Hange suggested. “It shouldn’t be too much of an issue right? Since you made a lot of improvements after.”

“I did,” Levi said.

“And it never happened again with the later builds.”

“It doesn’t but it works too much like the love alarm. Do you notice, it always rings when we’re nearby?”

“When we’ve already loaded millions worth of data points. When we’ve overseen that much testing with other people. I don’t think you have to think too hard about it. We just keep improving the application right? Same as the love alarm,” Hange explained.

“Maybe I’m just being cynical. It doesn’t work once and I can never trust it again,” Levi muttered as he scrolled through the tasks for the next release for the upteenth time since a while ago.

“I guess that’s what happens when you’re the one who came up with the project. You can never trust your own abilities to develop?"

"Or because I worked on it, at three in the morning, I tested it. I know how many shortcuts I took with it…" Levi trailed off as he started to focus a little more on the numbers, the titles on the task trackers.

"You know they did the research, the testing, if it works for them, if they have a good success rate, then maybe it works for us too? Maybe the app is right, we're happy when we’re next to each other. Sometimes we’re sad when we’re next to each other and sometimes we're angry. If this application is detecting moods like this… similarly to the love alarm, maybe it means we could--- "

"Get along?" Levi finished it for her. There were only so many things that code could mean anyway.

"Get along.... Or to get to know each other more." Hange said, her voice softer than a second ago. The smile took longer to leave her lips.

Hange though had always been good at composing herself but Levi had months to figure out patterns and trends in the way she navigated the more sensitive topics. He couldn't help but notice the heavy tension, even under the light summer breeze.

Those moments happened too often that Levi had prepared an escape route every time. Business talk. And they had a lot to talk about. "Hange, I wanna ask something about the front end," Levi scrolled back up, towards the top of the task trackers. Dealing with front end was a mammoth task, rifed with two many sub tasks but it was definitely one of the last priorities, if it was even a priority. Levi wasn’t the type to particularly mind releasing an application with a white background and an interface that used the very underwhelming Arial font.

But it was Hange and Zeke’s application.

"Ask away," Hange said.

It came easily after that. The ticket on his workflow tracker had an inkling of a script to follow. "What colors would you associate with emotions?" He asked.

"What?" Hange furrowed her brows.

Levi cleared his throat. Nevermind, it wasn't easy to come up with the question without a little more expounding. "Like would you say red is anger? Blue is sadness? Yellow is happiness?"

"Wait? Why?" Hange asked again. Her lips were curled up just a little higher.

"I'm thinking of the front end of the application. What colors do you see for each emotion?"

"Yellow for happiness," Hange answered easily.

"Not orange?" Levi challenged. He had opened up the task and started to take notes.

"Orange is way too angry for me."

"Red seems much angrier," Levi said

"Red is anger definitely but I'm not seeing bright red, I'm seeing something like orange."

Levi opened up a color wheel. " So this red?" Levi asked.

"No, bright reddish orange," Hange corrected. It may have been a coincidence or just a trick of convenience but a red leaf had fallen on her lap at that moment. Hange picked it up, and twirled it and held it in front of Levi like a token.

“So... autumn red?” Levi asked.

Hange dropped the leaf on his lap. “I guess.” She raised her eyebrow. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

Was he giving her a strange look? His mind sometimes formed opinions as he spoke and Hange had always been receptive anyway so he verbalized it, just for her. “When I’m angry, I see red,” Levi admitted.

“I haven't felt really angry in a while, so I wouldn’t know,” Hange said. “Maybe it changed.”

“Sadness?” Levi asked.

Hange turned to him questioningly. “Tell me yours first.”

“Grey,” Levi said automatically.

“Blue,” Hange said, as if it were the truest fact in the world.

A fact Levi was compelled to question. “Why blue?”

“Why not blue?”

“Blue doesn’t seem sad….”

“Why not?” Hange pressed.

“It seems…” Levi started, only realizing seconds later, he was unable to come up with the right words.

“Too nice?” Hange suggested.

“It’s a nice color. It makes me feel good just looking at it.” It was a pathetic response. With such a complex thought, to even force out of his mouth, he had to channel his inner child, through the most child-like attempts at articulation.

“Okay, I know it doesn’t feel good to be sad but.. don’t you think sadness is a beautiful feeling?” Hange asked.

“No.” It should have been a natural answer. Somehow, Levi felt like there was something else worth listening to.

Hange saw reason to continue at least. “You wouldn’t be feeling sad, if you never felt happy in the first place, if you’ve never felt desire or love. There are feelings much worse than being sad for sure.”

“Like what?”

“Not feeling at all maybe?” Hange surmised. “So maybe the strongest feelings, whether good or bad, are still nice… maybe something worth indulging.”

And it was turning into a philosophy lesson. How many hours had he wasted listening to Hange prattle on about emotions and concepts of love? They weren’t hours wasted for sure, but they did leave him feeling just a little sad at times. Once again, he went back to business talk. Levi looked back at his workflow tracker. “So ‘blue sad, yellow happy, red angry…”

“Do you really think sadness is grey?” Hange asked.

Levi looked up from his laptop and straight towards Hange. "Look, I don't think much about what color my emotions are…” He trailed off. He could have said more maybe. Speaking while reflecting turned out to be a daunting task at that moment.

Maybe sadness was grey. That had seemed like the most natural conclusion at first. He focused for a little longer on the view in front of him, the view of Hange and behind her the open grounds that made way for blue sky and the blue burned into his eyes, enough to make him feel something in his chest then down to his stomach. Before he knew it, he started to entertain Hange’s own idea.

When Hange looked back at him, the open sky behind her, he felt stinging at the back of his eyes, he let his face fall.

The color overall had been burning at first. The more he stared, the more he noticed its more lasting qualities. It turned out blue wasn’t burning, it was subdued, mild. At the same time, the clear endless shade of blue in the sky behind her did wonders to accentuate her features. Enough of a reminder to leave another twinge in his chest, that time it was slightly painful.

A twinge of sadness. Emotions may be difficult to comprehend but whatever clarity that washed over him then had been enough of a motivator to speak up. “I think you’re right, sadness is blue,” he said. A beautiful blue.

He found himself searching for the prettiest shades on the color wheel, looking back up at the sky, then to the yellow streaks from the sun that hit the pavement. He then turned his head towards the garden where red roses grew. From a distance, from above, they were supposed to form a heart.

“Yeah, red and yellow too. Red hurts, it’s glaring, Sometimes yellow is too bright but all together, they make the garden beautiful. Like this courtyard,” Hange said. She stretched her legs out onto the stony path just in front of the bench and shifted her weight to the palms of her hands.

“Yeah, it is.” Levi nodded.

“It’s colorful,” Hange said. “Bright reds, bright greens, bright blues, bright yellows. They’ll all only be here together until the end of summer.” She wrapped her arms around herself, a wistful smile on her face.

“You like summer?” Levi asked. “It’s fucking hot.”

“I like summer and spring. What can I say? I like seasons with a lot more variety of color,” she answered. “ I always get a little sad when summer ends. Surprisingly though, I’m sadder than usual about this summer ending.”

“Why?”

Hange shrugged. “I can’t even explain it for myself. It’s ridiculous that I’m this sad about summer ending. I usually get like this when I’m out of the city but I haven’t even been out in the countryside in a while but somehow, I’m already imaging the larger, wider landscapes up north. I’m imagining how quickly the trees go bald… Green then red then blue. And how quickly skies turn from blue to just a constant gray and when the lakes just freeze over, turning from blue to a more of black… It’s sad to imagine.”

“I can imagine it,” Levi said. He didn’t leave the city often since there wasn’t much spare funds to work with. He was capable of empathizing though, after all the twinge of sadness remained and it had been surprisingly easy to channel it elsewhere.

“There are places up north that have the most beautiful springs and summers but when the leaves change… everything dies much more quickly.” Hange lowered her head.

“Maybe one day, I’ll check it out,” Levi said. He found himself picturing the logistics of a trip already. Having never used his leaves, having built up disposable income through a lack of drive to even form a life outside work, he realized he did have leeway to indulge just a bit. Somehow, Hange’s own thoughts were enough to inspire.

“You haven’t been up north?” Hange gaped.

“I didn’t have much money growing up and there’s no reason to.”

“I should take you up north. You know, the gardens up there, the rolling hillsides. They remind me of Pemberley,” Hange said.

“Pemberley?”

“Pemberley! Mister Darcy’s estate.”

Levi groaned inward. That book again.

“Elizabeth visited towards the end of the book and there are a bunch of old houses around there and when I would walk on the fields, I like to pretend I’m in the book.”

“Relive your rags to riches fantasy?” Levi asked bitterly.

Hange pouted. “It’s not just that. Besides, I wasn’t poor, you know. My parents managed to pay tuition to a good college with no debt.”

Not as rich as Zeke definitely. The banter might just get out of control so Levi went with a conservative digression. “Maybe I’ll go there one weekend, up north before summer really ends.”

“Maybe, I’ll take you there myself,” She said, an excited grin on her face. “Maybe after this weekend or next year if we’re too late. I told Zeke about how I was feeling lately, so for my birthday, he promised he’ll take me up north so we’re going this weekend.”

Levi choked. “Wait, birthday? When’s your birthday?” It turned out to be a burning question, a small fact Levi felt obligated to know. So the answer couldn’t have come any slower.

When Hange opened her mouth ready to speak, the universe decided for them that it definitely could come a little later. His phone rang, breaking that brief silence, prolonging the painful anticipation.

Petra Ral. For some reason, he expected the worst when any of his subordinates called. He answered the phone. “Petra, is everything okay?”

“Sorry about calling. I tried texting you but you weren’t replying.” Petra went straight to the point soon after that. “Some of the members of the other project offered to help out with testing. Do we have enough phones?”

They did have enough test devices, the pile on Hange’s desk was enough proof of that. “Yes we do,” Levi said. They were all in his office. He turned to Hange questioningly. It was her blank face that reminded him, they’d have to look through the phones themselves to see what devices they could wipe.

“I’ll meet you by the office,” Levi said. “Hange and I are going back now.”

He hung up the phone and turned to Hange. “Petra is gonna borrow some of the test devices. You’re okay with that?”

“Sure, I’ll help you wipe them,” Hange said. “Are we going back now?” She seemed hesitant, a closer look and Levi could see a hint of disappointment.

He closed his laptop. “We have to get back to work right?”

“You never even stopped working,” Hange accused.

“I stopped long enough to listen to you ramble on about that damned book and your nice vacations.”

Hange walked on, seeming deep in thought. “Hey Levi… What do you think of Petra?” It was an abrupt digression.

“What about Petra?”

“Have you ever considered dating her?”

Levi stifled a choke, letting it out as a peaceful clearing of the throat. “Why are you asking that?”

Hange shrugged, as she walked ahead. . “Nothing, she seems like a nice person and she seems to like you… Besides, she rings your alarm.” She looked back at him, a playful grin on her face.

Levi sighed. That wasn’t a question he would have liked to broach.

“Well?” Hange pressed.

But maybe he could give some vague answer in exchange for some information. “I’ll tell you. If you tell me something."

"Tell you what?"

"What are your plans for your birthday?”

***

Levi was tricked, treated, bamboozled. Hange had a way with words, a way of just pushing the right buttons. It could have been that or it could have been a series of convenient circumstances and conversation topics that had Levi there, at the front of the mall after work with Petra right next to him.

On the bright side, he had Hange’s birthdate, her plans for that Friday all the way until the weekend. That was enough to satisfy his own curiosity. Over time though he realized, that was all it did.

Was it worth it?

Back when he and Hange had been discussing it, it seemed like a good exchange, she satisfied his curiosity, he satisfied hers. Hange had given her due information. In exchange, she received information on Petra, the long QAs, her alarm ringing, the amount of effort Petra put into her job and just the occasional present that made their way to his desk.

While Hange’s own information went so far as to give the name of the restaurant, the time and the route of their roadtrip, Levi’s own information evolved into something else. Before he even knew it, Hange had created a new agenda of her own.

Your love alarm would ring with Petra right?

It did. Of course, in front of the mall, surrounded by other people wasn’t the best place to test it. There was no reason to either. Ever since Petra joined them more than a year back, the love alarm had always rang and Petra had enough professionalism, enough of a handle on her own feelings to mark it as ‘accurate.’

Admirable? Definitely. Date worthy? Did he ever consider dating her long enough to deem her date worthy? ‘Maybe not’ to both questions.

Have you ever considered dating Petra?  Hange brought up that question during their conversation and Levi felt almost guilty for the straight up ‘no,’ and the shallow ‘she’s too young for my taste’ reason.

She could have been too young. Still, Hange seemed more like a counselor for that exchange and she made some good points.

Assuming the love alarm didn’t have a bug, and the reading was accurate… Hange first set her premise.

The premise could have been accurate. No, it definitely was. Petra’s own approach towards him only served to extinguish any doubts.

Levi and Petra settled for an early dinner at some restaurant towards the end of the mall. Not for the food, nor for the pricing but for the convenience of being able to sit down after the twenty minute walk and a long day up on their feet back in the office.

And Petra had been excited to sit down in front of him. She rushed ahead and slipped into the booth, even before Levi had slipped himself into the small gap between table and chair. He allowed himself enough focus to scan through the menu and digest the names of the dishes at least. He hadn't bothered to even spare a good look at the board outside nor what the hell the other customers were eating and thus, he was excruciatingly slow.

On top of that, he was exhausted from a day of work and most days, he wouldn’t have bothered to go on a date, not with a colleague at that.

It’s not a date. Levi reminded himself. He shouldn’t be dating subordinates. That was another source of stress at that moment.

A few times Levi looked up at the menu, making some ingenious excuse about how he couldn’t decide and how he needed some blank space to help clear his mind before he tried to decide again. Every single time he looked up, he had to internally make an excuse because Petra was staring right at him.

“Have you decided what you want to get?” Petra asked, her voice was a song. She propped her elbows on the table, a rude gesture in most places. She managed to subdue rudeness by propping her chin on top, a look of seemingly genuine interest in her face.

Seemingly. Who the hell was he kidding, she probably was genuine about it. If it wasn’t his own instinct that could be relied on, he could at least trust the love alarm that had rung with no fail since she joined the company in the first place.

“I’ll get the fried chicken meal.” Levi didn’t particularly like fried chicken. He had been a little too self conscious of how long he had stared at her and back at the menu, how long the awkward silence between them lasted and he soon realized, he had to order quickly, even if he didn’t know yet what else he was missing.

“You wanna get tea? We could share a pot,” Petra suggested as she put down her own menu.

Levi could have finished a pot on his own. He wasn’t telling her that though, especially not right after too many close encounters with what could have been inappropriate. “Sure.” Levi nodded a little faster, hoping that was enough to feign excitement.

The waiter came and went with the menus on hand and Petra started to ask questions, questions that were invasive enough that Levi had a hard time thinking two things at once.

They weren’t too personal. In fact, they weren’t about him anyway. Levi started to figure that for himself when he got his bearings. “What about Hange?” Levi asked. He was stalling, finding ways to untangle his hairball of thoughts.

“You were asking me right? About any advice on what to give Hange for her birthday?” Petra asked.

“Yes, I did.” Why did he forget?

Assuming the love alarm didn’t have a bug, and the reading was accurate, that means this ‘love’ between me and Zeke is one sided.

“Well, we could check out a few shops nearby. You could buy her something that could help her with organization. Diaries, bookmarks, pencil cases, wallets…” The list went on and the contents had started to become unbearably boring. Really, would Hange have enjoyed those?

But I don’t think it’s one sided. Love is a choice right? I can choose to love him. So if you and Petra---

Me and Petra. There were too many things wrong with it, a boss and a direct report, a conflict of interest.

But she seems genuine. She seems like a good person. And maybe she could be worth pursuing.

She’s my direct report. He argued then.

But if you decide to pursue a relationship, you can always just reshuffle, right?

Petra continued to talk. “Does she like tea? We could give her a tea bag. The one I bought you last Christmas… it took me months to find it…” She brought out her phone and started to scroll, seeming too deep in thought. She furrowed her brows and bit her lip, as if the extra effort hurt..

An unnecessarily vigorous effort over a simple request from him. Guilt was an unwelcome feeling but it was also incredibly tenacious, like a cockroach. His mind was becoming more receptive to painful speculation as he watched Petra grapple over her choices, and he wasn’t at all being helpful.

Guilt was the rising action. Then everything fell into place soon after, not into place, more like a chaotic order, like a ton of bricks.

And that order made his feelings more intelligible.

He didn’t want to be in a relationship with Petra. That was all there is to it.

Love is a choice right? A tiny glimmer of protest made itself known in the silence. Those were words from Hange, echoed multiple times before in an exact tone and manner only Hange could ever pull off.

Can I choose to love Petra? Levi asked himself then.

Petra was a nice girl. She was helpful. She worked hard. She was competent. More importantly, she was single and she wasn’t married to his very rich client.

Most importantly though, in the grand scheme of all his experiences and emotions, Levi had to point out to himself, she wasn’t Hange.

Why don’t you give her a chance? Hange had asked that then. She goaded him, nudged him and pushed him out of his own office, to follow after Petra had left the office with the devices.

It's frowned upon, boss colleague relationship. Levi had argued.

Something tells me she likes you. Hange continued, as if she never heard of the unspoken taboos of office relationships. Maybe she hadn’t.

Besides, I noticed… You know, you look a lot happier. How that had ended up the conclusion of their conversation, Levi couldn't exactly tell. He remembered looking up at Hange, to hell with how far down his jaw dropped or how wide his eyes were. There was just something special about Hange pointing out something and how quickly something could easily become a certain reality when someone just verbalized it.

Maybe he was happier, maybe he started to appreciate nature a lot more. Maybe he had started to see more color the past few months.

His own recall of Hange, his own thoughts that flew back to her had him perceptive of the variety on his plate, the decorations on the shop for just a split second and when he looked up to Petra, a part of him was at the least attempting to appreciate.

Petra was a redhead, her hair fell in a neat bob that barely brushed her shoulders. Red was a nice color on hair, and Levi only noticed it then. He stared for a while longer, trying to find something to feel, something to think beyond ‘nice.’

Petra’s eyes shot up and she met his gaze. “This is it!”

“What?” Levi asked, almost instinctively. He felt a tad self conscious analyzing the shade of someone’s hair.

“I found the tea, the one I gave you last Christmas. You really liked it right?” Petra asked.

“The Jasmine Pearls?” He did remember the tea then he remembered telling her he really did enjoy it. A part of him had maybe forgotten for a split second that it was Petra who gave it so the question had shaken him more than necessary.

“I was only able to get it from a shipment last time. I had to book three months to get it. But they’re on sale now and---”

“She might prefer coffee though...” Levi said. His own intention had been to find the perfect present, but he ended up feeling guilty as soon as he saw Petra’s reaction.

Her face fell. She turned back to her phone for just a second before fixing her eyes back to his. She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for that, I can’t believe I got so excited.” A blush crept up her face.

“No. Don’t think about it like that.” Levi attempted to maintain at least a ghost of a laugh in his tone. The last thing he wanted to do was keep Petra unnecessarily uncomfortable, especially after everything that had happened until that moment.

The air was heavy and he wondered if she noticed it too. She was probably too preoccupied with her own self proclaimed mistakes, very evident by the beet red of her face.

“Let’s go around first. We might come up with something better if we ask around the shops,” Levi suggested. It had been more to comfort her than anything else. The suggestions of a while ago, the list of items had only served to make Levi think a little deeper about it, to the point of acceptance.

Even before they had finished their food, Levi had already concluded for himself, whatever he gave Hange, whether it be a wallet, tea, a small trinket, Zeke had probably come up with a more expensive version, something he probably would have never considered buying himself.

Levi didn’t leave though. Soon after they finished eating, he still accompanied Petra to every shop. He made a facade for himself, a window shopper buying a birthday gift for a good friend, he asked enough questions to engage Petra, everything ending with the conclusion, “I’ll think about it.”

Overtime, he realized he wasn’t thinking too much of what was in front of him. His mind was elsewhere.

Besides, I noticed… You know, you look a lot happier. Hange was smiling when she said it, but the smile didn’t curl the same way the others did. She crinkled her eyes as she spoke but Levi could almost point out the sadness in them.

And he saw it every time he recalled that. What does that have to do with dating Petra?

I like seeing you happy and I think if you found someone to love, maybe you’ll stay like this much longer.

Like what?

More pleasant? Smiling more often? Appreciating stuff outside work?

Hange talked for longer after that but that had worked to motivate him to invite Petra out to get to know her, to ask for advice for a gift for Hange. Somehow, a part of him wanted to take Hange’s advice, stay ‘happy’ so in his own way, he could prove her right and maybe by extension, make her happy too.

But was entertaining a relationship with Petra the right way?

The question burned for longer. Even after they exhausted all the shops and all the ideas that came with it. It was around eight in the evening when they stood by the train station under the mall, exchanging goodbyes. “Make sure to get home safe.” A part of him had considered taking her home. Their trains went in completely opposite directions though.

“Will do,” Petra said.

“We have a long day ahead tomorrow.” They always had a long day ahead but at that point, Levi was foraging for something a boss would say.

“Yeah, I'll make sure to get the testing done tomorrow," Petra said. "What happened today, it definitely gave me the motivation. I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too.” His response was automatic, something he didn’t want to think too much of.

They separated soon after and when Levi boarded the train home, he entertained the question again.

Was entertaining a relationship with Petra the right way to be happy?

I think entertaining love is an opportunity to be happy at least. Hange argued. You don’t have to jump into it but I think building a relationship with someone teaches you a lot and love, it makes life colorful.

Colorful? The trains were grey, the suits of all the passengers were shades of black, grey and the occasional blue. An almost alarming transformation from the gardens, after long days of working with Hange.

A copy of the emotions alarm was downloaded onto his phone and in the silence of the long ride home, he opened it again. He clicked ‘activate,’ the application loaded, no emotion was detected.

It was a fun night right? Levi concluded, there really was some more to improve on in the application. With the amount of testing done, and the amount of data loaded, he also had to entertain the idea that maybe it wasn’t an issue with the application.

Maybe it was his own issue with appreciating, with being open to love. “That’s what you were saying, right Hange?” He whispered to himself. A second later, he thought maybe he had said it loud enough to sound like an idiot.

Before nervousness and overthinking could take over again, he willed himself to mull over Hange’s words like always.

Love is a choice and just be open to it. Even if he didn’t believe it for himself.

***

It turned out, Erwin also knew about Hange’s birthday. And he suggested a basket of fruit as a gift.

Levi had been a little surprised. For one, maintaining partner and customer relations was never part of his job so how the hell was he to know that baskets of fruits and cakes were customary.

And secondly, he was just a little indignant. Erwin was his boss though so he couldn’t tell him that. He complied before going back to his office and booting up his laptop. It felt odd.

The laptop pinged with a characteristic echo and it was much louder in the silence, the almost deafening silence. After all, most days, Hange would have been there to chatter his ear off about her own experience testing.

That day, she had taken the day off. A birthday leave. Just for herself. She took September four and September five off. The fourth was to prepare for the long trip. Then on the fifth, she had dinner with Zeke, in an Italian restaurant on the first floor of a luxury hotel near the city center.

He knew the details, he knew the name. But it has nothing to do with you. He constantly reminded himself, it was only on a good to know basis. Still, he entertained the idea that maybe he could stop by the city center on the train on the way home, just for the modicum of a probability that he did run into them. It was not like he had anything else to do on a Friday night anyway.

But you can think about that tomorrow. Levi scolded himself. Somehow, Hange not being there was making it more difficult to focus. After all, she had been there, every single day before.

Also, how could he entertain multiple other ideas about Hange’s birthday when he didn’t even have a present for her? He had managed to put off Petra’s suggestions lightly, by some distraction from work. He had managed to make a good excuse of the fruit basket, saying that it was better to give a gift as a company.

Really, it had been his own insecurity stopping from putting any money into anything. Zeke could buy Hange a billion wallets, a billion tea bags, a billion fruits basket if it suited him. Then it begged the question for Levi, what could he give that Zeke couldn’t?

The emotion alarm. The answer didn’t come quickly. It came after staring at the desktop screen for long enough to lose grip on the time but after a long moment of doing nothing, Levi eventually brought out a test device and opened the server.

There were three basic emotions. Anger, Sadness and Happieness. Those were the three Hange put into her plan. They were to create the application, test it among patients and study it to see how it could help with more accurate prognosis.

And if he went the extra mile, maybe he could just give it as a late birthday surprise. Or maybe he might end up never finishing it. At least I’d try. That last thought lingered for a second longer and it did its part to send a burst of confidence through him.

He looked through his workflow tracker. No assigned bugs to look into. So he opened a new document, pulled out a paper.

“Hange Zoe, you wanted to test emotions right?” He asked no one in particular. When he was asking questions out loud, ideas ended up flowing much faster. He pulled out a small paper from the post-it stack at the corner of his desk.

“What if we connect it to the web, make a dashboard to display reports, so maybe psychologists have something to look at after testing?” He could have said it out loud. Maybe he didn’t. He had said it loud enough in his head at least to keep his gears moving. “What if we find a way to quantify it?” That last part was ambitious. It would need Hange’s input for sure so he grappled with two ideas, surprising Hange and just suggesting it like a developer.

His ideas were risks, born of long hours of googling enough to maybe bullshit years of studying psychology. Maybe Hange wouldn’t agree, maybe she would. He copied the necessary code from the alarm anyway and decided to just play around with it.

It was a birthday present only he could give anyway.

Another idea popped into his head after an hour more of googling, a much more doable idea. Even before he made sense of it, he pulled another post-it from the side and wrote out the three emotions. Underneath them, he wrote the colors. Red. Blue. Yellow.

Yellow and red became orange. Red and blue became purple. Yellow and blue became green.

He wasn’t a psychologist, he wasn’t a philosopher. He was merely a developer. He was an experienced one at that and with the right amount of free time and the right amount of motivation, he managed at least to pull out a framework and recall the color of the leaf on Hange’s lap.

Red. Yellow. Blue. Orange. Green. Purple. He had enough time to work on some front end tasks that day.

***

He finished it on Friday, the fifth of September, at around noon and maybe he had done a few hours of overtime to get it done, arriving home at midnight just the night before.

It wasn’t perfect but the colors showed up as a big dot under the emotion, and the application would flash in bright shades of red, yellow, blue, orange, green and purple, the latter three a mix of the basic emotions.

It had been a small act of just manipulating the data, loading Hange’s USB full of data to get it to work. Whether it would be accurate, he couldn’t tell but it would be something good to bring up on Monday maybe, a risky birthday present but still, a little risk seemed better than omission when it came to Hange.

The last few parts were a little tests on his end, while testing in between, while signing off necessary decisions for the testing on Monday.

The testing never worked, no emotions flashed onto the screen the few times he tested and every single time, he reminded himself, it wasn’t perfect but maybe Hange would still appreciate it.

By five, he was out, right on time and with his own personal project completed and downloaded into his phone, his workflow tracker empty, and everything ready for the large scale QA event on Monday and he thought himself a little deserving of a little stroll at the city center on a Friday night.

At around thirty minutes past five, he boarded the train, the same route home, stopping five stops shy of his usual stop.

The station at the city center on a Friday night was bustling. It had taken him a good one minute to even push himself out of the train. He only ever managed to get a glimpse of the shops, the city lights beyond the crowds not when he stepped out of the station, but a few blocks after that when for a good few minutes the crowds dissipated into something a little more breathable.

The luxury hotel Hange had mentioned was one, if not the best one in the city and Levi easily picked it out as he stood towards one of the less saturated parts of the crosswalk. It was a skyscraper, the windows were of the modern kind that reflected city lights in a unique way and they covered the building from top to bottom. And even from just his peripherals, he could pick the building out by the strange iridescent flashes of color.

The view was very much worth the price and Levi only had to walk ahead, catch it as a small glimmer behind buildings and crowds to know he was going the right direction, despite having to ride through the crowds.

He arrived at the block, the building only a few feet away, close enough that he had to strain his neck to get a glance of the skyscraper at the top. He looked back down at his phone.

6:30. Hange said they had a reservation for seven. He wondered why he was putting himself through that torture. Would he even get to talk to her? Eventually he realized, might as well make use of that information just to satisfy his curiosity again.

The restaurant was a small place, with glass windows, and if Levi stared long enough he could make out every single face there. For a Friday, it was still empty and he was able to conclude without much of a long glance that Hange wasn’t there.

So he took a good long stroll around the block. He entered leather shops, boutiques that sold branded clothing, staying long enough that the salesman had thought he would have bought.

Thirty minutes passed with a few bumps along the way. Sometimes minutes lasted years, sometimes they lasted split seconds but the bumpy wait was long enough for him to realize that he was doing something completely stupid.

It was Hange's birthday. That was Hange and Zeke's night. All he could give her that day was a greeting, and maybe a basket of fruits, care of Erwin.

So he planned a birthday message, saving it in the drafts. He didn’t have to give her the modified birthday application as a present. He could always prepare a script to pitch his suggested changes for the application on Monday. Disappointment and surrender had him lethargic and for a while after exiting the last store, Levi leaned back on some free brick wall where the space was for rent, a good distance away from the sea of people but still close enough that if he just stretched out his arm, he might just get dragged in.

He leaned back and stared, allowing himself that bout of reprieve as he watched the crowds go by. Crowds of people weren’t anything new, he dealt with those everyday trying to squeeze into the trains during rush hour every morning.

Crowds on a Friday, in the center of the city weren’t something he was completely used to though. He hated crowds and he always strategically timed his personal shopping trips to late afternoons on weekdays, particularly when it was much easier to maintain a comfortable distance from strangers.

When he was observing, time went by at a sluggish pace. For a while, Levi was hypnotized by the strange cadence that accompanied the view. The longer he stared, the more perceptive he became. There was a very big difference between crowds on a weekday during rush hour and crowds on a Friday night moving through a shopping district.

When he was close enough, he immediately picked it out, like a very small diamond in a sea of coal, invisible at first but from the right angle, it suddenly became crystal clear. Crowds in rush hour comprised hard, focused individuals. They were like streams: movements were loud, hard wired towards one direction.

Crowds on a Friday night were more like a river, they were moving but only barely, very subtly. Of course they would, the faces were relaxed, the people were rarely alone. Some clusters in the crowds came as one family, others came in groups of friends and others came in couples.

The more faces Levi scanned, the heavier he became. It dawned on him soon after he was alone in crowd of people and he was fucking lonely. For a second he considered testing his application, he decided soon after that he probably didn’t want a bunch of code rubbing his own loneliness and singleness in his face. For another second, he almost considered inviting Petra over.

Shaking both temporal thoughts away, Levi turned the corner and back to the main road, making some excuse that the main road which passed the five star hotel was the closest way back to the station. It was a valid conclusion at least, the main road was wide enough, and the shops were few and far in between that social distancing wasn’t too big of an issue.

There was another conclusion Levi liked to entertain though. He checked his watch. 7:30.

Hange had said before, the reservation was at seven. He dove into a crowd, while catching a glimpse of the restaurant to the window. Hange was surprisingly easy to spot, maybe because Levi had first swept through the seats on the corner with his vision. He spotted the brown hair, the glasses and a dark purple cocktail dress. Notably, there was no blond companion in front of her.

Zeke was in the toilet, his rational mind justified. “Have fun, Hange,” Levi said. At least he got to see her on her birthday, he allowed himself a passing thought on how well she had dressed up that night, similar to months ago when he had completed the test app. Then he brushed that thought away, looked straight ahead. He stayed with the sea of people, long enough to pass the hotel and as soon as he was a good distance away, he broke away, taking the underground path to the station.

It was still early and the station entrance was surprisingly more peaceful than above ground. He had enough space to open up his phone and check the birthday greeting in his drafts box.

Happy birthday Hange! Excited to continue working with you. See you on Monday for app testing. Btw, thanks for volunteering for the calibration on Monday.

He evaluated for himself that the text was a good balance between casual and professional. Satisfied, Levi clicked send and pocketed his phone as he made his way to the ticket gate.

The next time he opened his phone was in the train, three train stops in when he was lucky enough to catch an empty seat.

Thanks, Levi :)

It was too short of a message for Levi to read through and he was almost disappointed at such a turn out.

What did you expect, an ‘I love you?’ The tremble in his lips was enough evidence, that maybe a part of him did, as embarrassing, as ridiculous of a prospect as it was. He hovered his thumb over the keyboard, letting the weight of the incomprehensible emotions pass before he typed.

See you on Monday. That’s what he had wanted to type, just to keep the conversation going. Hange was still typing though.

Levi was staring at the bubbles above the message box for a good long few minutes. Minutes, it definitely took minutes. Hange was typing long enough for a station to announce a next stop, enough for the train to empty at that stop, enough for it to refill and enough for the conductor to announce the next stop,

The text eventually came. Where are you right now?

How the hell had that taken minutes to write, Levi didn’t know. He wasn’t eager to reciprocate though.

He replied within a few seconds. Why?

Hange took a little longer to reply. The bubble on the screen continued to bounce as Hange Zoe continued to type.

Nothing much. I was just curious. It had taken almost another train stop for Hange to type those six words.

A split second later, another message appeared underneath. Sorry for bothering you. So Hange wasn’t just a slow typer.

It was still eight in the evening, too early that for most, the night hadn’t even started. So Levi took a risk. He left the train at the next stop, boarded the other train that ran through that same line, the train that would bring him back to the city center.

Hange, you okay? He texted.

Hange didn’t reply. There was no bouncing of bubbles above the message box, but he continued to stare, just in case. And that little motion on the screen was a fickle thing.

Sometimes it appeared, sometimes it didn’t.

Hange Zoe is typing.... And sometimes, he stared at it for long enough that it seared into his vision even a minute after it was long gone from the screen.

She never did type anything and maybe he had waited too long for a response. By the time he arrived at the right station again, he tapped his card and exited the ticket gate and ran through the underground. When he reached above ground, he tried to maintain the same speed. That involved pushing through crowds and being a small man, he realized it wasn’t too much of a bother to anyone. After all, with the amount of people huddled in the crowds under the cool air of late summer, he wasn’t the only one pushing.

He didn’t have time to check his phone. And soon, he realized he didn’t need to. He arrived back at the hotel to find Hange hunched over, unmoving in the same seat she had been just a few hours back.

Zeke is in the toilet. Levi told himself. He waited a minute, then another. And when he looked closely, he realized, Hange was on her phone. He opened his phone to see the bubbles bounce again.

Hange Zoe is typing…

Levi was counting minutes, and the bubble never disappeared. He looked back up at the glass door to see Hange was still not moving, still slouched, her head bent over. To the phone on her lap maybe?

He looked back at his phone and concluded then, Hange had been typing for ten minutes.

Maybe Zeke is taking a shit. He set an alarm for ten minutes. The hotel and restaurant bathroom wouldn’t be too far. And no one took a shit for more than twenty minutes right? If Zeke didn’t come back in ten minutes, maybe that meant she was alone.

Ten minutes went by quickly. And a few times Hange had typed, a few times she had laid her phone on the table and leaned back on the chair. A waiter had offered wine once and Hange shook her head.

It would be rude to barge in but at the same time, there were answers he was desperate to get. He sent a message. Are you alone?

The typing stopped for a second. Then it continued for a minute. Then it stopped. Finally, like the sunshine after the rain, a chat bubble appeared and Levi savored the sound for a split second before he took in the contents.

Just one word. Yeah

Where’s Zeke?

He’s not coming tonight.

Levi leaned on the wall just next to the window and typed one message. You need someone there with you?

A few times he glanced back to see a waiter near her, handing Hange a small tray. The bill? He guessed. Hange should be going out soon but she continued to sit, for a few seconds longer.

Her reply came within those few seconds. I don’t wanna be alone tonight.

Levi leaned back on the wall and he closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, grappling with the conflict. Should he be happy? Sad?

His phone continued to buzz. Hange had left messages in succession.

Can I stop by?

I know a lot of places won’t be open.

We can get fast food.

Somewhere near your place maybe?

Anywhere that would be convenient for you.

Only if you’re not busy though.

Don’t feel obliged.

A string of messages, longer than he expected.

Exit the shop. Turn right and follow the sidewalk. Don’t cross the street. He was shit at the directions, but he decided for himself, she would ask anyway if she got lost.

It turned out, at the least, the directions sufficed. Soon he was hearing the clack of leather shoes, the rustle of a light autumn coat and Hange’s voice.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was loud and clear even when it was competing with the sea of crowds, the other background conversations, the ads and the sound of traffic. Of course it would be, she was right next to him.

“Are you okay?” Levi asked. It wasn’t the best greeting but it felt like the most natural thing to say.

After all, Hange was smiling but it was an unusual smile. It was one of those smiles that seemed to be carrying a heavy weight. He figured it out after staring for a while longer. it was the weight of her cheeks, the prickling of her eyes. If she let the smile go, maybe everything would have fallen with it.

He gripped her by the hand. “You wanna go somewhere?”

“Let’s get out of here,” Hange said, a noticeable crack in her voice.

Maybe that had been enough to break the fragile smile on her face. In the crowds of people, in the middle of a busy street, there was no time for Levi to check. He thought it the best move to pull and maybe she thought it the best move to follow. She was obedient, predictable and light and he easily brought her farther from the center, towards the quieter parts of the city.

Five minutes of brisk walking, or maybe it was ten and soon, they reached an area with clusters of apartment buildings, residences. There were still small shops, a few restaurants and hole in the wall food stalls, some with lines spilling out all the way until the sidewalk.

At first, it seemed hopeless to find some place just for both of them. With time, Levi started to imagine one particular place that wouldn’t have so many people that late at night.

It should be bedtime for kids already anyway. He thought to himself. And when he articulated it, he was sure, there should be one. And there should be no people.

He just had to find one.

Five more minutes of following the winding roads between apartment buildings and he found one, a comfortable distance away from apartments. They could easily manage a soft conversation with no risk of being heard. He sat back on the swing, taking in the slide, the sandbox a few feet away, the monkey bars and high rise apartment buildings with most windows already illuminated just above them.

Hange had taken the seat beside him.

“Are you okay?” Levi asked again.

“I’m fine,” Hange spat out, only proving she was definitely not fine. There was enough light from the one street light on the corner, the shades of orange, red and white coming from the window and they had all worked together to show a glimmer of Hange’s face, even with her head bent down.

“Are you crying?”

The answer came in heaved breaths. The question must have made her more conscious. She bent down further on the swing. Her bangs covered her face and whatever glimmer he had seen a while ago was forgotten. Eventually, she gathered herself. “Levi, if you ask people why they’re crying, sometimes they just start crying.” She let out another breath.

That didn’t convince him to stop. “Why are you crying?”

“You don’t ask people that.” That time, the words came out a little more seamlessly.

“You asked me if I was crying back then… Back in the office.” Levi never forgot that harrowing experience and it was an easy memory to bring up.

There was silence for a second, save for a few more ragged breaths, the creak of the swing and maybe a few barking dogs from the distance.

Hange broke it herself, her voice much clearer than a while ago. “Sorry, I’m just tired,” she said. “Really tired.”

“Zeke ditched?” Maybe ditch wasn’t the right term. By the time he considered that, the words were long gone from his mouth.

“I knew he wasn’t coming,” Hange said. She pushed on the swing just a little bit, enough to have her swaying.

“Why did you wait?”

“We had a reservation.”

“But if he told you…”

“He told me to cancel it.”

“And your road trip?”

“He said not this weekend. He has a few more meetings and he couldn’t come home on time.” Hange’s voice was alarmingly serious, a sign of acceptance maybe?

Levi hoped not. In a feeble attempt to lighten the mood, he spoke up. “Happy Birthday.”

“I’d rather not think it’s my birthday.” Hange let out a pitiful excuse of a laugh. “How many birthdays do people even get, and here I am wasting one of them being sad.”

“I’m not the best company but I can try to do my part to help make it better,” Levi pulled out his phone and opened his email, opening the apk file he had been working on since that morning. He copied the download link and pasted it on Hange’s message box.

The message was sent quickly and the popping sound from Hange’s phone filled the silence of the empty playground.

“Happy birthday,” Levi said once again with a little more flourish.

“I told you, don’t remind me. Let’s just sit here and talk.” Hange gripped the chains of the swing and leaned back.

“Check your damn phone Hange.”

“Nah… My phone has been chocked full of disappointments since this morning.”

“I sent you your birthday gift through your phone.”

“It can wait until later,” Hange argued.

She was like a five year old child and Levi was starting to give up on even keeping the surprise.“I modified the app,” he said.

“What?” That had gotten Hange’s attention. She pulled out her phone.

“I created another copy of it, played around with the code.”

“Why?” She seemed curious more than anything. Curious was better than sad at least.

“As a birthday gift,” Levi said. “Just open the damn phone.”

Hange picked it up from her lap. A clicking sound as she unlocked the phone then silence and maybe a hint of humming as Hange fiddled with her phone. “I just download it right?”

“No shit Sherlock.” It was a stupid question. Hange had downloaded apk files more times than he could even count.

“Well, you said it’s a new app,” Hange said in defense.

“It is and it isn’t.” Levi moved his head, and it settled as a mix between a shake and a nod. “It’s not part of the original research plan… and I didn’t have much time to test it so it’s not perfect.” He unlocked his own phone and opened the emotions alarm. He stared at it for a second, hovering his thumb over the activate button then he looked over at Hange’s phone. “No need for an email. Just open it.”

“Nothing’s changed,” Hange said.

“Well, I added colors now,” Levi shrugged. “And I tried adding more emotions by playing around with the data, but who knows if they’ll show up.” At that point, he was self conscious enough that he saw it as an obligation enough to manage expectations.

He heard the familiar sound and he was sure Hange had activated it. He activated his own and leaned back on the swing and pushed just a little bit, enough to occupy himself while the alarm read them both.

Hange’s phone rang first.

“What did you get?”

“You added purple?” Hange asked. “What the hell does this mean?”

“Red and blue. So if red is anger and blue is sadness…” Levi started.

“Go on…” Hange said.

“I’m not a philosopher nor a psychologist. You say something.”

“Loathing?” She suggested. “A combination of anger and sadness… It sounds like loathing to me, or indignance.”

His own phone rang, he put the screen up. “I got green. Blue and yellow. Sad and happy. Can someone be sad and happy at the same time?”

“Acceptance,” Hange answered. “Or desire.”

“Those are opposites.” “Opposite sides of the spectrum but they’re the same feelings, they both involve happiness and sadness. Acceptance is sad happiness. Desire is happy sadness.”

He almost regretted asking for Hange’s feedback. He felt her speculation at the pit of his stomach and he only realized when his phone fell to the ground that he froze, lost his balance on the swing for a second. “This hasn’t been tested though so it’s all for fun.” A pathetic disclaimer but it didn’t seem to work. He looked up to see Hange was staring at him.

The tears had dried and her eyes were a bit brighter and she seemed more inquisitive than sad. “You know... " Hange started off slow,  breathless from amazement maybe. She was still fiddling, staring at her own screen. "This might be a good idea for the app. Let's test this again on Monday. Maybe we could add this."

“Maybe. We’re gonna have to revise the plan if we do.”

“Or we can keep it just a personal project but let’s think about it Monday.” Hange stood up. It’s getting late.” She put her hands up and stretched, swaying from side to side.

“Yeah, it’s getting cold too,” Levi said. Summer was ending soon.

“Happy Birthday to me,” she added, the venom from a while ago apparent. She pocketed her phone then held her sweater close. “Zeke said to wait a few weeks. I guess I’m gonna have to wait until next year to enjoy summer up north again. Maybe we can go south instead.” She kept her voice cheery, an attempt to lighten the mood.

A seemingly unsuccessful attempt. “You still wanna see summer up north?” Levi asked.

“I wouldn’t mind waiting. I guess what hurts about it is, I’ve been psyching myself up for days. I bought new clothes. I’ve been packing and I’ve already created a route for us,” Hange said.

“Yeah, you were talking about it a few days back, about how this one garden reminds you of Pemberley.” Levi asked.

“Well, last time I went there was a few years ago… There’s an area that reminds me of Pemberley, another one that reminds me of the Rosing garden---” Hange trailed off.

“I wanna see them all,” Levi said. He never finished the book and he wondered if she noticed. Regardless, he wanted to see it anyway. If there was something Hange could talk about for hours, something that had left her a lump of disappointment, he wanted to see it for himself.

“Really?” She said. “But with testing on monday… And you don’t seem like the type to---” Even under the dark night, Hange looked flustered, the pink in her cheeks still apparent.

“As long as we’re back before Monday right?” He didn’t know if she would agree. He didn’t expect her to but when Hange was already hovering such a prospect up in the air. When she had misunderstood that last statement to have been an invite, he might as well just play along. And enjoy it. “I don’t see any problem going with you,” he added that last part just to make it a little clearer.

"Like this weekend?" Hange asked, a look of disbelief on her face.

"This weekend." Levi nodded.

“Then let’s go. When do you think you’ll be ready?”

“We could leave right now.”

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

[loves124]

Neighbor’s ch.1

Warning: language (sorry if it bothers you all but I usually sing like a sailor and tried holding back a bit more this chapter but there are still some word in here.)

Kinda fluff?

If there are any errors or mistakes please don’t hesitate to let me know :)

Also don’t hesitate to give me some fresh ideas

Thank you,

Love you,

Enjoy!

(Shouta Aizawa x fem!reader)

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It's been a long day for you. As soon as you walked out the door this morning, anything and everything has been going wrong. You were running late and had to skip breakfast, you missed your train, you got scolded by your boss for showing up late, and you even grabbed your least favorite pair of socks. They have a little nub in the corner that always feels super weird on your foot and makes you feel uncomfortable in your body. As the day progressed, nothing got better. You just wanted to come home and cry on your couch while watching Ghibli movies and eating a pint of ice cream for dinner.

You could feel the familiar lump in your throat forming, and your eyes were stinging from holding back your tears. Today was just so frustrating, and all you wanted was for it to be over. The more you thought about it, the heavier your emotion was. Thank God that your shift was finally over with. Looking at the time, you saw that it was 7:30 and you needed to hurry to catch the last train home.

As you headed home, you could feel your feet dragging behind you, sniffling and letting some tears fall. You finally reach your complex and continue walking to your apartment door.

A man is standing by the railing near your apartment door. He has a cigarette hanging from his lips. Taking a second to lean away from the railing, he pulls a hairband from his wrist and gathers his long ebony hair pulling it back into a messy bun. He looks a little disheveled: wearing some black slacks to pair with his black V-neck shirt.

You can see some cardboard boxes packed around him as well. It takes you a second to realize that the apartment next to yours has been vacant for weeks now. Mrs. Honda, your landlady, might've finally found an occupant.

Great. Your first impression to your neighbor is going to be when you're a total mess. That's just fan-fucking-tastic.

You try to compose yourself as you make your way closer to your apartment, and it isn't working too well. The man picks up your movement and gives you a gaze as he flicks the built-up ashes of the end of his cigarette.

You give a bit of a nod and mumble a quiet hello as you make your way closer to your apartment. You fumble through your purse, trying to find your key card for your door. Huffing in frustration, you realize that you most likely locked it in your apartment. 'This day just can't get any better,' you think to yourself.

You dig through your purse and grab your wallet, pulling out a dunking donuts gift card. You attempt to fiddle it in-between your door and the frame. You were struggling as you fiddled with the handle of the door. You are just about to try and kick down the door before a voice interrupts you.

"Aren't burglars supposed to be good at picking locks?"

You look over to see the man leaning back on the rail, amused at your feeble attempt to break into your own apartment.

Flustered, you stumble to find your words. "Ah well, you see... this is actually my apartment. I just locked my card inside. I was running late this morning and didn't have time for breakfast. And breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and it probably is a reason why I forgot my card. And my boss didn't make it any better by being such an asshole-" you glance at the man again and compose yourself. "I'm so sorry. You don't need to know all that. It's just been a long day," you sigh.

"Hey, I get it. It's been similar for me. I usually don't smoke, but it's been a bit of a rough day, so I thought I deserved a bit of a break," he signals to the cigarette intertwined between his fingers.

"I would offer you one, but I take you as the type who doesn't smoke."

"After the day I had, I am very tempted for any sort of relief" you sigh and drop your bag, joining him over by the railing.

Lazily putting the cigarette back in-between his lips, he extends his hand out to you. "Shouta Aizawa, I guess I'm your new neighbor."

You reciprocate and put your tiny hand in his "(F/N L/N, it's nice to meet you. Sorry, you had to see me when I'm such a mess."

"If this is you when you're a mess, I'd love to see how you are normally," he says.

Both you and Aizawa chit chat a bit before a gust of wind flows by you, making you shiver and cover your arms to receive it a bit. I guess he picks up on it because he offers you to come inside his apartment for a cup of tea.

"If that makes you uncomfortable, though, you are more than free to refuse. I won't take any offense," Aizawa says as he stubs out the remains of his cigarette into the ashtray he has sitting on a cardboard box.

"I'll take you up on your offer" you smile. "Just to let you know, though, I judge harshly when it comes to people's tea-making abilities."

"noted," he chuckles as he holds the door open for you with one arm while holding the box in the other.

You both chat for hours. Talking about anything and everything, you learned that he is a teacher at UA. Commending him at his accomplishment for having a job at such a prestigious school, but he doesn't seem to be interested in his accomplishment. Even with all of the talking, he seems like he isn't too interested in talking about his own life but more interested in finding more information about yours.

It's sweet, but you would like to know more about the man in front of you. You are surprised with how comfortable you are with him. He is a little intimidating. He's got this dark and broody sort of personality, and that's disregarding his looks. This man is the definition of sexy.

You are just admiring him and all of his details while he is sipping on the chamomile tea he made for you both. You notice the scar that's on his left cheekbone, and you're tempted to run your fingers across it. He also had some pretty prominent eye bags. You usually think eye bags are unattractive. That's ever since you developed some from working overtime at your job. Waking up and seeing the dark circles under your eye made you feel so insecure. Looking at Aizawa though, you can't help but find them beautiful. They add to his charm a bit, and you realize he most likely has them from putting in so much effort into his work. His dedication is more than admirable.

You take your time basking in him, thinking to yourself, "why is he so goddamn pretty?"

Only to realize that his expression changes, and you just said that out loud. Flustered, you try and explain yourself, "Sorry, I just- I didn't- God, this is embarrassing."

He grins. "Never would have thought I would be described as 'pretty. Usually, I get 'jaded' or 'dull.'"

"Really?" you say, shocked. "But you're so handsome?"

"With these dry eyes, thanks, but I don't need any pity compliments" you go to defend yourself but are interrupted by him.

"speaking of dry eyes," he rummages through his pockets. "Where did I put them?" he questions before picking up a box and setting it on the counter, rummaging through it.

"What are you looking for?" you question.

"Just eye drops, I get some pretty mean dry eye, so I usually have some on hand," he huffs.

"Well, I don't think you are going to find them in there," you nervously laugh.

"Why not? I'm pretty sure I put them in here."

"Do you... um usually put your eye drops in with uh- your butt plugs?" you question

"My what?" he stares incredulously, and you respond by pointing to the scribbled sharpie written on the side of the box. He flips the box around to see written in big bold letters' Aizawa's Butt Plugs FRAGILE'.

"Hizashi," he quietly sighs while pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Hey, it's totally okay. I don't kink shame here. I would just say its a little unsanitary to put your eye drops with-"

"I don't have but plugs," he quickly says. "I have never once owned but plugs; it's just my coworker is a piece of shit and doesn't know how to stay out of someone else's stuff."

"I like his humor. Seems like my kind of person," you chuckle.

"You would eat your words if you met him in person. He is kind of a loud person," he sighs as he continues to dig through the box. "Finally," he puffs as he pulls out a small little bottle. Unscrewing the top, he attempts to drop some in his eyes but misses.

Some mumbled swears later, and you offer, "Would you like some help?"

"only if you're comfortable though," you add on.

"Could you? I can usually get it first try since I do it so often" he hands you the tiny bottle. You look around and move to sit on the counter, waving him over to come in-between your legs. You cup his face as if it were a natural thing you would do on a day-to-day basis without even thinking. You have your thumb laying on his cheekbone, and you drag it over his scar, feeling some of the grooves and divots within it. He leans a bit into your hand as you caress the scar, but you realize you are getting a little carried away and continue. Dropping a couple of drops in each eye, he sighs in relief.

"Thanks," he says with a smile. You both look into each other's eyes before you cough and look over at the time to see it is already 1 am. He follows your gaze.

"Wow, have we really been talking that long?" you question. "I've probably more than overstayed my welcome" with a laugh, you hop off the counter and stand under his gaze. "Thank you so much for listening to me and being such a wonderful host. I should probably head back over though" you point to the direction of your apartment. "You might if I use your balcony to hop on over?" You ask.

"Sure," he breaks from his trance. Leading you to the balcony, you throw your bag over the railing to your side and follow in suit. He gives his hand and aids you over the railing to your side.

With a thankful smile, you give a quick thanks and goodnight. But before you go in, they capture your attention once again.

Rubbing his hand on the back of his neck, he says, "just so you know, you're welcome here anytime you get locked out again, or even if you don't get locked out."

You smile. "I'll take you up on that, but you might get tired of me pretty fast." You open the back door and make your way into your apartment, but before you close the door, you hear him say

"I doubt it."

#aizawa fanfiction #mha #fanfic

[nerdy-bits]

The Unspoken Rules of Stealth Games

I love stealth games. They are my absolute jam. I’ve been an Assassin’s Creed acolyte from the beginning and Splinter Cell rests firmly atop my list of favorite franchises. The industry isn’t flooded by this genre, but there are a fair number of quality contenders. The Dishonored games are a tour de force, I love the critically mixed Deus Ex prequels deeply, I only play Far Cry with my knife and bow, Ghost Recon is a kind of comfort food, even in Uncharted 4 I avoided combat in favor of being a sneak. In fact, really the only thing I like more than stealth gameplay is cooperative stealth gameplay (though I am a sucker for tactics games). There is just something about clearing a room with a friend, no enemy wise to your presence. Splinter Cell has brilliant co-op. Far Cry is at its best when your crew chooses the silent approach, one friend getting dirty up close with a blade while a ranger picks off sentries, putting arrows between armor plates. 

Most stealth games though, avoid multiplayer completely. I frequently lament that I can’t take out targets as agents 47 and 46. Most of these games, to me, feel like they would be better with a friend. Now a part of that is certainly because most things are better with friends but, secondarily, these games are difficult. Having a friend to help could both ease the game of chess you play in every encounter or allow creators to add differing levels of complexity. 

I could talk about the possibilities for, maybe literally, days. But that’s not what I’m here to talk about. At least not today. If very few stealth franchises build out co-op experiences, a fraction of those games create adversarial multiplayer. Splinter Cell has tried it. Spies vs Mercs, a mode that pitches Splinter Cell agents against NPC-esque mercenaries, leverages darkness and verticality against mercs with flashlights. It’s, as I previously described, brilliant. By pitting factions against each other with different abilities to navigate the gamespace, adhering to the stealth game loop is the only thing that gives the spies an advantage. 

Assassin’s Creed also dabbled in multiplayer. Both PvP and PvE. The latter, while promising, fell victim to the extremely buggy launch of Assassin’s Creed Unity. Network issues, net code issues, strange pop-in, the experience was fractured from the start. The former, PvP variant, was introduced with the release of AC Brotherhood. Across a handful of game modes, and choosing between an impressive lineup of characters, players hunted each other down across crowded maps utilizing a number of distractive, offensive, and defensive abilities. 

The Brotherhood multiplayer was great in the first few weeks, but as time progressed players became savvy to the underlying systems and within months of release the idea of “Stealth” all but disappeared. The reasons, I believe, are perhaps why so many stealth games leave this feature off of the list: Balance and participation.

A few weeks ago Hood: Outlaws and Legends came out and a group of friends and I grabbed it up. At only thirty dollars it was kinda hard not to just grab it and give it a shot. Hood takes place in the Robin Hood universe (mythos?) and tasks players to cooperatively - stealthily - infiltrate an area, track down the Sheriff, pickpocket a vault key from him, and then abscond with the loot in said vault. It’s like Payday with a bow and arrow. 

Pulling off these heists is actually pretty fun. The PvE (versus AI only) mode allows you to dig into the mechanics of the game while working out the kinks in your team communication. Before long we were complimenting well placed shots and perfect dual takedowns as we carved our way to our prize. The formula is solid, if a bit repetitious. The requirements don’t change at all between maps. The location of the vault chest will move around from heist to heist, but that is really it; and after a few rounds we had grown a bit too familiar with the process. The game also randomly chooses the maps in this mode, so we ended up playing two maps in three games, which was a bit of a bummer. Also your XP gain is dramatically limited in this AI centered mode, which pushed us quickly into the game’s core mode: heists against competing human players.

The formula doesn’t really change for this PvPvE mode, save the fact that at the same time you are hunting for the Sheriff, his key, and then the vault, another team is as well. Initially the prospect of this dynamic was interesting, but pretty quickly it devolved.

This was when I realized multiplayer stealth is critically dependent on its players participating in the right way. Now some games incentivize this participation or choose to restrict your abilities altogether. Think AC: Brotherhoods scoring system for kills which took points from you for being loud or conspicuous. Spies vs Mercs restricts teams abilities based on their faction. Mercs literally cannot hide in the dark. Spies will not win a gunfight. 

Hood doesn’t really build any advantage or disadvantages into its gameplay loop. We started our first round of PvPvE and began to sneak around the map the same way we were in the PvE mode. Being seen by guards locks the area you are in down. They close all the gates and begin hunting for you. Against AI this was a paradigm shift. The whole group has to go into ghost mode or just shelter in place until the heightened awareness drips away with the invisible clock. In multiplayer you get notified if your opponents incur a lockdown. This is done presumably to give you a brief jolt of encouragement. Thoughts dart across your mind, “They are locked down, they got caught, we have a few minutes to creep ahead and really gain an advantage. 

Only that wasn’t the case. 

Ryan and I stopped playing the Brotherhood multiplayer a few months in. It was nearly impossible to play the game by its own rules. Shooting a target with your wrist mounted pistol was always the worst way to pull off a kill, but useful if your target just kept evading you. You received a meager serving of points and would move back into the crowd in an attempt to reestablish yourself as an agent of stealth. By the end of the first month people were sprinting across rooftops, shooting down into the crowd, and then running off to do it again. They had discovered that if you ran around on the rooftops it didn’t raise your profile and that picking off a target from a rooftop with a gun, the penalty wouldn’t be enforced unless you killed a second target. First kills in this method would rack around 1800 points, the second kill a measly 300 (the numbers may be way off here, its been years. It’s the proportion that’s important. 

The second kill was the system working, discouraging loud tactics with point penalties. But if you went and hid, let the system time out, and then did it again, you could farm high point value kills in perhaps the least clandestine way possible. Brotherhood became a shooting gallery. It was absolutely untenable. Assassin’s Creed would get away from adversarial multiplayer after Black Flag. I barely returned for Revelations. 

As we were creeping through the bushes in a castle courtyard, our band of merry thieves, we got the first notification that our opponents had triggered an alarm. A wave of relief hit the crew. We’ve got some time. Then the second notification came, then the third, then a fourth. Our relief was subsumed by a revelation: they are just ignoring the stealth altogether. What followed was a painfully reminiscent race to the objectives ignoring area guards altogether (If a gate got dropped each team had a character that could just lift the gate). Our opponents got the key first, found the vault first, and moved the prize first. Each time we got close we were either picked off by a camping Robin, thatching us through the reeds with pinpoint accuracy, or we got bodied by the two melee characters Tooke and John.

Dying, spawning, and running back to the objective is a drag in any game. In a game where you have to make a getaway, every second you have to run back to the last place you saw the objective is a second of distance they get to make. Combat felt clunky and secondary to a stealth system that had been completely abandoned. Knowing that your opponent trips an alarm is incredibly useful, but knowing when they got the key, that they had found the vault, and having a tracker for how far the chest was moving was a bit much. I kept thinking about how much cooler it would have been if we had found the Sheriff only to discover the key was already gone. Imagine coming across a vault that had been looted already, your team scrambling desperately to find out how far their opponents had gotten. 

Still, none of this works players don’t abide by an invisible set of rules, therefore relying on those rules just ends up feeling like a mistake. A private lobby with eight people, all who agree to be stealthy is one thing, hoping that the community at large adopts that mindset is, ever more clearly, dependent on systems. The question is, in an industry that builds to player’s fantasies of power, how do you implement these systems and simultaneously empower players while also guiding their play-style along the path you desire?

How do you penalize running around like Rambo adequately? How do you incentivize stealth to make it the only way players want to engage?

@LubWub ~Caleb

#stealth #stealth games #far cry #assassin's creed #multiplayer #asymmetrical multiplayer #splinter cell #hood outlaws and legends #article #blog

[larktb-archive]

Hi! I'm too shy to come off anon, but I need your help understanding something. I hope I'm not bothering you!!

I don't want to interact with anyone who is a fascist, but I'm not entirely sure what makes someone fascist. Can you please explain it to me?

I know I could look it up myself, but I know that not all definitions online can be correct and I just want your perspective;;

Thanks!

Hi anon! Well, fascism comes in many forms so “sussing out who’s a fascist” is technically a little harder to do than having a simple checklist. After all, doesn’t a White Supremacist have different beliefs to a Japanese fascist? And doesn’t a Japanese fascist have different beliefs to a Wahabist? These beliefs clash don’t they? Well, yes and no. Sure the surface level beliefs are different but the underlying core beliefs of these groups are actually quite similar; it’s the specifics which are different. Even though it isn’t a “bible” on what is fascism and shouldn’t be taken as gospel, Umberto Eco has an essay called “Ur-Fascism” which contains 14 points, which can help us identify whether certain beliefs are fascist no matter the specifics of their belief system. I’ll explain the points in short and give some examples. Quick disclaimer, I am not an expert on fascism or any of the ideologies I’ll discuss by any means so if you aren’t taking Umberto Eco’s writing as the 100% correct truth, definitely don’t take mine as that either (this is how you should treat most sources tho):

1. Cult of Tradition and 2. Rejection of modernity

I put these two together because they’re kind of inseparable. This is basically the idea that there was a “glorious past” that people need to return to and modernity is a corruption of that “glorious past”. In British fascist thought, this past is generally the 19th century at the zenith of the British Empire or mid-20th century Britain. The latter is more common for people who wish to be a little more PC with their writings; instead of trying to use a by-gone era that pretty much no one alive can remember, they use a much more recent time with nostalgic ideas of “the good old days” which doesn’t seem threatening on it’s surface but is dogwhistling for a time when there weren’t as many immigrants in the country.

You may have seen the “reject modernity, embrace tradition” meme and it’s pretty much the most obvious incarnation of this idea. Similarly you may seen people online use “degenerate” as an insult. If you look at the meaning of the degenerate it means “having lost the physical, mental, or moral qualities considered normal and desirable; showing evidence of decline”; it’s microcosm of these ideas put into a single insult. This is why you tend to see conservatives use it more than progressives.

I’d also argue that terfs obsession with 2nd wave feminism and their utter rejection of intersectionality and modern feminism is another manifestation of this idea. 

3. Action for actions sake

This is less detectable in terms of individuals but still important to note that these people tend to support action without a cause. Sure the insurrection at the white house earlier this year was action, but it had no substance behind it. It was action for actions sake, which is why any principled leftist didn’t support it. Fascists will tend to openly just call for action but won’t be very specific about the purposes of the action; as long as they agree with the ideology behind it they’ll support it. It’s why fascists love harassment campaigns and mindless acts of terror. Take Wahabist terrorist orgs like Al-Qaeda or ISIS, it doesn’t matter if bombing an Ariana Grande concert has no point, the only point is the action itself.

4. Disagreement is treason  

This one’s pretty self explanatory, they will ostracize you if you disagree with them. Again, terfs tend to do this, and I had a long conversation with an ex-terf I called a dumbass, who basically said that she was ostracized by them and mocked for having different beliefs (hope she’s doing well actually). There’s numerous stories from ex-terfs like this.

5. Fear of difference

There’s a tendency for fascists to group people into “us” and “them”. “They” are considered to be intruders who need to be removed whereas “we” are the people who deserve to be here because it is “our” right to be here. In Zulu Nationalism, this tends to be any non-Zulu speakers who they deem to be “Shangaan” even if they aren’t actually Tsonga, it’s just a pejorative at this point. If you see vague references to the “elite” without any reference to who they are and what makes them “elite”, this is tends to be a dogwhistle for Jewish people. Western Fascists have very little issue with the workings of capitalism itself or the accumulation of wealth by capitalists, they just don’t like “them”, taking “our” stuff. Any references to “us” and “them” is pretty much a red flag.

6. Appeal to Social Frustration

Fascists will tend to brush upon actual issues faced by the poor today but will instead blame it on an outside force. You’ll see job loss being blamed on immigrants or vague “elites”. Terfs do this too. They’ll see young girls who are genuinely struggling with patriarchal issues and divert all that pent up rage towards trans people and the “q*eers” (which they do tend to use as a slur unlike what most people would have you think). 

7. Obsession with a Plot

Everything is a conspiracy! The election was rigged! 9/11 was fake! that fucking pizza place/this furniture company is a sex ring! All of these are supposedly plots by the deep state who are trying to do... something or other. You’ll notice these “Plots” don’t actually have a purpose, but the fact that there is a plot itself is the issue. This is a way of engendering paranoia in the group while also feeling that there is a constant war against you even if there isn’t. This is also why, despite news sources being pro-capitalist the right will swear up and down it’s leftist media which is controlled by “them” (usually just meaning Jewish people).

8. The enemy is both strong and weak

“Trans people have infiltrated academia and the only reason people refuse to see gender as an immutable biological concept, is because they’re too afraid of the trans cabal to say anything. But also everyone can tell trans people are crazy and haha you have a high suicide rate.” It’s contradictory that’s the point. They need to feel that they’re both counterculture but also they need to be winning at all times so that contradiction is necessary. Also the use of the word “cabal” is a pretty big red flag for all forms of fascism.

9. Pacifism is trafficking with the enemy, 10. Contempt for the weak, 11. Everybody is educated to become a hero and 12. Machismo and weaponry

All of these are kind of interrelated so I’m grouping them together (also this is already fucking long as hell so I don’t wanna bore you any further). You’ll tend to see a love for the military or at least military aesthetics when looking through fascist blogs. Guns aren’t just a tool for fascists, they’re representative of masculinity and the necessity of violence. Pacifists and anyone who refuses to fight are weak and therefore are “degenerate”. If you do not fight, if you are not willing to fight, you cannot be a “hero” (an ubermensch or a matyr). This comes with the fetishization of violence instead of the recognition of violence being an means to an end, and the worship of individuals rather than of communities and organizations. Take Japanese fascists and their lionisation of the imperial military and their desire to once again have an actual army.

Terfs don’t necessarily fit these roles except for arguably 10 considering how much they seem to look down upon the mentally ill and those who commit suicide and surprisingly 11 since that involves the hatred of non-standard sexual activities and terfs hate non-standard sex (this is from the most vanilla bitch who is very uncomfortable with kink but understands its not inherently good or bad). I have a feeling this is more so because terfs are mainly women (there are male terfs ofc) whereas this was written for male led organizations. 

13. Selective populism

When fascists talk about “the people” they tend to mean “the people we like”. “The working class” can be translated to “this cishet white christian man from Minnesota who owns land but hey he lives in a rural area so he’s working class right?”. They’ll also tend to have “tokens” who will suddenly become the mouth piece of the entire community they’re supposedly representing even if no one in the community asked them to (i.e. Milo Yiannopoulos). 

14. Ur fascism speaks Newspeak

They speak in terms which are both inaccessible to anyone outside of their circles whilst being so simple that once you learn them it becomes easy to understand. They abhor any form of “academic” speech so you’ll rarely see them source things (unless those things happen to agree with their views, which is rare but Jordan Peterson is popular for a reason) and if they do source things they probably wouldn’t have read them fully and will rely on you also not reading them. This is to limit any critical thinking so that your brain is basically jellified into an unquestioning organ which only responds “yes” or “no” and only appeals to a higher authority without any form of reasoning involved. This is why they complain about “the lefts memes being too wordy”... because they’re used to not having to read (this is somewhat tongue in cheek but heyho if the boot fits).

And that’s the 14 main features of fascism, if anyone is displaying multiple of these ideas then they are most likely fascist, and if an organization or group continuously replicates these ideas, then they are definitely fascist. I hope this wasn’t too long but like I said... very complex topic. (Also hopefully this is written well, it���s 10 PM and I am surviving off Irn Bru energy drink). Hope this helped!

#long post #lillypad.txt #ask away #Anon

[keiscait]

Hi! I just wanted to say from the match-ups I have seen that you are such a great writer! If it’s not too much I was wondering if I could get a living room and bedroom matchup for a male character. If both are too much, feel free to do one whichever one you feel like you can write better. I wanna do this anon so the emoji you can use for me is: <33

Info:

Pronouns: She/Hers

Personality: I am a very goal orientated person and I can become very hard on myself sometimes if I don’t achieve things as well as I wanted to. I tend to be quiet but not shy per say. I do not have trouble talking to people and making friends and I can become very outgoing but in the friend group itself I usually keep to myself. If I am comfortable with you I will make witty remarks and make fun of you in a playful friend banter kinda way but I would like to say I am a good listener so I can get serious real quick. I am really big on trust and I used to trust too easily and now I am a bit more closed off where it is a bit harder for me to trust others.

Relationships: When it comes to relationships, I believe in communication and I haven’t had a big problem with it in the past. I wouldn’t mind a small pda such as hand holding or a small kiss here and there but nothing over the top because you gotta keep the important stuff private ya know. My love language is quality time because I tend to be really busy once school starts and so making effort to see each other even through our busy schedules is really important to keep the relationship healthy.

Hobbies: I believe that you need a good balance between work and play though so some other hobbies I have are painting (acrylic and watercolor), baking, and skateboarding. I also listen to music everyday and watch like an episode before I go to sleep if I have school but binge watch on break. I also try to game a bit too like league, minecraft, and my switch. I also like hiking and runs in the mornings before class because it really clears my head and I used to be on the swim team but I don’t competitively do it anymore.

Bedroom: I believe I would be a switch that leans more submissive. However, I am really cautious to do anything because I need to trust them to be submissive. I would consider myself very open to different kinks and what not and aftercare is a must. I’m not super into degrading because I’m sensitive af. I just would want someone who is observant with me and my body as well as someone who helps me with my insecurities. Once I’m comfortable though I definitely become a brat. Just want someone who would manhandle but still tell me i’m the prettiest girl they’ve ever met hahaha.

Zodiac: Pisces (sun), Cancer (rising), and Leo (moon)

Hogwarts house: Ravenclaw

Future Plans/ Dreams: I am working to become a biomedical engineer one day to help make medical devices to help people. Right now I am leaning towards possibly doing physical therapy and making prosthetics.

Looks: I’m 5’6/5’7 and have a medium build. I am tan kinda like a honey color with black wavy/slightly curly hair that is about at my breast length. My eyes are hazel but mainly light brown and I have pretty big doe like eyes.

Sorry if it’s too much or too little but thank you so much! and I have such respect for writers so keep being you :) HAPPY HOLIDAYS AND STAY SAFE

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hello and welcome, my darling! So sorry for the long wait, and thank you SO MUCH for your kind words! (⌒‿⌒)❤️ Let’s get right to it then! ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

I was reading your description, and I think the person I had in mind for you also fits your bedroom matchup!

Our lovely guest keeping us company in both rooms is...

(Runner up: Ushijima Wakatoshi)

Kageyama is a very complex character. He’s one of the few characters ever who we actually see slips back into his old bad habits every now and then, but is immediately remorseful and shows signs of him knowing better. He’s always striving for progress, and he understands more than others what it’s like to dislike your past self.

- Tobio here is somehow both incredibly observant yet so fricking DENSE

- I imagine that however it is that you two meet, he’ll be super formal at first. It’ll take a little while for a romance to build because he’s not used to opening up, and he’ll need to really trust the person for him to let his walls down

- however, as soon as you guys establish a friendship, he’d be drawn to you and how goal-oriented you are, especially since he is, too

- He’d take interest in you, notice all your little quirks, and would even find himself blushing whenever you playfully tease him

- Problem is, he has no fucking clue why HAHAH

- I love him sm but boy doesn’t know what it is to like someone

- Hinata would try to explain it to him and he’d just be like cr- cru--... c-CRUSH?? ...what is that?

- Man is in desperate need of wingman someone help him

- Anyway, once his friends get Operation: Get Tobio A Girlfriend in motion, he just turns into his pouty blushy self whenever he sees you

- The other boys will probably go overboard that he’ll be forced to take matters into his own hands

- The confession would be a damn mess but in an adorable way

- He’d 100% yell his feelings at you while pouting/blushing

- You’d have to shush him TBH 

- shush him with a kiss maybe? that’s a great way to shut him up ( 　･ิω･ิ)

- Kageyama_Tobio.exe stopped responding

- anyway I think he’d just be such a soft, protective boyfriend, especially since you’re kind of quiet

- You two would understand each other so well. He’d protect you and your quiet side, while you would help him be more relatable in order to make friends. It’s also perfect that you two are both goal-oriented, because then you’d be on the same page when it comes to co-dependence/independence. One would understand the other when it comes to pressure, deadlines, and hard work, and you’d just be super supportive of each other all the time

- I think you’re better at communicating than he is, so you may have to inform him a bit on how it should work between the two of you. He’d pick up on this really fast tho so no need to worry! Kags has got you ;)

- Dates would be really productive ones. Study dates, work dates, workout dates; anything that would be beneficial to your improvement

- Early morning hikes with Kags :’( beautiful

- He really appreciates that you’re not big on PDA because that puts a lot less pressure on himself to be someone he’s not. PLUS I imagine he’s the same as you, who really treasures the private moments between the two of you because you’re both so busy

- Once you guys have some private time, he’d take it as an opportunity to release all his pent up energy and emotions. He’d be so needy and clingy when he knows others can’t see

- ( 　･ิω･ิ) ( 　･ิω･ิ) ( 　･ิω･ิ) also u kno whassup when you guys finally get some private time ( 　･ิω･ิ) ( 　･ิω･ิ)( 　･ิω･ิ)

- I don’t think Kags is the very kinky type. He’d be a dom, but I don’t think the freaky stuff would really appeal to him, especially if it’s degradation, since the man worships you?? He’s just like... why tho 

- He may get into some stuff that emphasizes his strength, mostly how he grabs you and handles your body

- Picks up on your sweet spots really quick, and I imagine he can even deduce which parts are sensitive without you having to tell him

- Apologizes if he ever makes you uncomfortable :’( he’d just be SO tender and protective

- I don’t think he knows what aftercare is, or like the specifics of it, but I think despite that, he’d just naturally want to take care of you and check in on you afterwards. He’d ask if you’re okay, if you need anything, if you’re feeling any kind of pain, if there’s anything he can improve on. And he’d definitely scan your body for any bruises.

~

You were walking home from an exhausting day at work. 

There were more than a few setbacks today - an annoying coworker took credit for your hard work, your precisely detailed schedule wasn’t honored by others, and because of this, you weren’t able to have lunch. It was now 6:30PM. The rain poured as you waited at the bus stop. You were famished, soaked, and, quite frankly, so done with this day. 

You sighed for what felt like the hundredth time. You were so out of it today that you haven’t had the chance to check on your unread messages. Your boyfriend, Tobio, had left a few missed calls over the past hour, causing some worry. He didn’t usually call, given how busy he was all the time. You texted him first to check in.

You: Everything okay, bub?

K: Yes. Sorry about all the missed calls. Where are you right now?

Y: At the bus stop near my building. Why?

K: Which one?

K: Never mind. I see you

What? You whipped your head left and right, then saw your boyfriend’s figure standing a few meters away, umbrella in hand. He was truly a sight for sore eyes right now - he wasn’t wearing anything special, juts his usual tracksuit, but he was wrapped in a scarf and held a soft expression on his face. It was just the warmth you needed right now. He jogged over to you, closing the umbrella as he made it under the roof. 

“Hi love,” you started, “what on earth are you doing here?” A huge weight seems to have been lifted off of you.

He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you, rubbing your body to give extra warmth. Pulling back, he took off his scarf so that he could wrap it around your neck. 

“It’s been raining all day but I noticed you left your umbrella at home. I was hoping to catch you before you left work so that you don’t have to walk in the rain.” You couldn’t help the smile that was erupting through the exhaustion. This felt like an all new Tobio. “I guess I was a little too late, I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. “No, don’t worry about it. Thank you for thinking of me, bub.” You allowed yourself to slump onto him, wrapping your arms around his waist. You felt him loosen up, strong arms making their way around your form. You looked up at him without pulling away. Your big doe eyes stared into his blue ones, totally sinking into each other’s gaze. He planted a small kiss onto your nose. It wasn’t normal for you to be so affectionate outdoors, but right now, it seemed apt. You scrunched up your nose in response.

Had it not been for the honking of the bus, the two of you could’ve cuddled in the rain for much longer, ridding each other of the lousiness of the day.

~

I hope that was alright with you, darling! Thank you so much for trusting me with your matchup. Hope you’re having a wonderful new year so far!! Please don’t hesitate to sit and have a chat with me anytime ❤️

Thanks for stopping by! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

#<33 anon #livingroom #bedroom #haikyuu matchups #haikyuu requests #haikyu matchups #haikyu requests #hq matchups #hq requests #haikyuu matchup #haikyuu request #haikyu matchup #hq matchup #haikyu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyu request #hq request #karasuno #kageyama tobio #tobio kageyama

[spockandawe]

1, 2, 3!

Ooh, let’s see!

1. Tell us about your current project(s)  – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

Okay, so I have tabs open for several likely wips where inspiration might strike at any time, but my big focus right now is in the fic I refer to interchangeably as ‘diet bingge’ or ‘bingge lite’. I hit a wall for a little while, but I’m trying to get back into it. This is (one of) my svsss feynite-inspired aus of aus situations. And it’s basically here, because I love all the svsss characters a LOT, and it is remarkably hard to keep them all alive and happy, not in the least because one of my biggest faves (shen jiu) technically dies before he ever appears. Also, I multiship like whoa, and the scope of a jianghu setting intimidates me, so the iwywmh dreamer-in-the-spring-boudoir-based harem setting.... it is a good fit for me.

So! My initial impulse. In the iwywmh “canon” setting, shen qingqiu gets killed by luo binghe, kinda... accidentally. An ‘I didn’t realize my own strength’ situation, after they’ve had a horrible falling out and shen qingqiu’s marriage has been effectively destroyed. My initial impulse was ‘but what if he.... didn’t die, though’

It opens up a really interesting story is what happens!!!

Because, okay. I’m not going to rehash all of the original story’s backstory, because it’s So Much, feynite’s fics and comments are packed full of solid gold. But in this situation, Shen Qingqiu has watched his marriage dissolve out from under him, and he’s heartbroken and furious, and just got framed (partly by binghe) for the death of his husband’s baby-in-progress (with another man). He’s lost everything he valued most. He no longer has a will to live. Binghe, on the other hand, is kinda horrified at what he just almost did, because he hates his shizun, definitely, but also.... shizun is the most important person to him. So with that tweak, I’ve saddled him with a Shen Qingqiu who he just almost killed, who has no will of his own to keep going, and he’s trying to make his way in the world.

Also liu qingge is there, and also shen sha yuan eventually, and they’re all important, but the shen jiu + binghe dynamic is the core of this story for me. Because what happens is that they kind of despise each other, but also.... Shen Jiu accidentally makes Binghe a much, much better person. He’s not nearly as soft as the Binghe of the original fic, but he’s not the Bingge of the original fic either, not by a long shot. And the emotional balance is fraught for some time, and is slow to get more healthy, but my boy gets there! And it’s kind of a situation like the last svsss verse I posted, where I was like ‘wow, I have no idea who will be willing to take this trip with me, but I tripped into a concept I find fascinating, and I hope people will join me’

This is the first story I’ve written in a long time where I’m letting myself diverge sharply from a flowing narrative with the minimum number of povs. I actually have to take like 20k of wip out of second person, because I’ve got like four major povs I need to bounce between constantly (binghe, shen jiu, liu qingge, shen yuan) and one or two side povs I need to flush out other bits of story (shang qinghua and maybe mobei-jun) (outside chance of liu mingyan too, goddd). I just made the decision a few days ago to split this into chapters, so I’d be able to post something soonish, but I did stall out for a while, because the scope is pretty overwhelming. And in the end, I’m not even sure it will work as A Narrative, because I don’t even know how it concludes, but I’m working on making my peace with that XD I’ve got close to 30k in a document, and still ages to go, so I badly want to pull it into a shape I can share, but.... it’s so much story, hahaha XDD

(my document with working notes for this is ‘SHIZUN GET BACK HERE AND GRADE MY FINAL PROJECT’, which also lives in my head rent-free as a working fic title. actually titling this fic is going to be a bear)

2. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

Oh, hmm. I think... If I’m sticking to projects where I actually can picture the scenes in question, I think I’ll have to go with the xuexiao wip that I’m going to return to any day, I swear, where I get into the actual dialog of the humiliation kink. It’s going to be a really interesting emotional balance, which is part of why I’ve been putting it off (I need to be in just the right mood, y’know?), but I’ll be in Xue Yang’s head, and I want to roll around in the way he gets to let loose with his crueler impulses, and the satisfaction that comes with it... plus a side serving of emotional self-harm, because he’s got extremely mixed feelings about making Xiao Xingchen hurt, and this is showing him all the ways he could dig the knife in deeper, which is theoretically what Xiao Xingchen agreed to, but is Xue Yang even enjoying this anymore??? Anyways, I love a good excuse to write top drop. Some of the top drop is written so far, but I’ll have to edit it based on how the scene itself plays out

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

Oh my god, I want to write the whole peak lord liu mingyan au, but it’s another one where I don’t have a narrative so much as a whole bunch of sequential moments in a story. But I am COMPLETELY committed to giving Shen Jiu a happier life, and if that means flipping the liu siblings around so that Liu Qingge is Luo Binghe’s peer (and drags him up the hill to Bai Zhan Peak instead of Qing Jing), and they are both shamelessly corrupting Shen Qingqiu’s favorite disciple, Shen Yuan, then... I’ll....... try to do it. Eventually :X If I had to pick a single scene, it would probablyyyy be the aftermath of this version of the abyss (the focus is the shen jiu + liu mingyan frenemyship, but the background is bingliushen)

But also, I want to write the canon version, where people accuse Shen Jiu of creeping on women for violently unfair reasons, and where he’s unfairly blamed for Peak Lord Liu Mingyan’s death in the Lingxi Caves, but now there’s an additional flavor of ‘well I bet she rejected him, and he took his anger out on her’ and he very bitterly doesn’t even try to defend himself, because nobody will believe him anyways. And I want to write the fic itself, where her natural big sister energies are exactly what he needs and can never never never admit out loud, and where she’s a comforting presence that he would never admit to needing. 

I have no idea what this fic would even look like, physically! None at all I want it to just Exist, but it’s looking like I have to write it, which means I need to figure out how to write it, and none of this is fair :’)

#ask memes #spock replies #long post/ #svsss #veliseraptor

[a-dorin]

the bet - poe dameron

word count: 1,945

warnings: drinking, smut (near the end), cursing, kissing, dominance kink 

summary: poe dameron is a man who loves gambling. one night, after some drinks, rey makes an offer he can’t refuse. poe will do whatever it takes to win, even if his own personal feelings get in the way. 

poe dameron loved taking risks. the adrenaline rush when it came to making risky decisions gave him a high that he coudn’t get enough of. so, not only was he a rebel pilot, but he was also a huge gambler. whether it was poker games, bets, or slot machines, poe was an avid participant. not only was he just a gambler, he was pretty damn good at it too. 

poe sat at the table, his eyes narrowed as he was in deep in thought. he glanced at his hand, grimacing. his odds weren’t good, but he still had a decent chance of winning the game. his opponents, chewie, bb-8, rey, and finn, all sat around him, looking at their own hands. those who could drink were beyond tipsy, and chewie and bb-8 were the chaperones, ensuring nothing went awol over a simple game of cards. 

“it’s your turn,” finn’s eyes shot daggers at poe, “he always fucking does this. we all know he’s gonna win. so why are we still playing?”

“because it’‘s fun,” rey matched finn’s stare, “besides, we have nothing better to do.” 

“yeah,” poe added, “it’s not like the first order has even made a move in the past month. things have been quiet lately. quiet is good. why can’t we just enjoy the normal aspects of life, such as this game of cards?”

finn rolled his eyes, taking a swig, “whatever. we all know you’re going to win, poe.” 

“i have a different offer for him,” rey smirked, setting down her cards, giving finn a smirk, “how about we make a bet?”

the word caught poe’s attention immediately, “and that is?”

“so eager,” finn muttered under his breath. 

“no really,” poe repeated, his eyes alight with excitement, “what’s the wager?”

“you, start dating your best friend, (y/n). if you get her to have sex with you within that month, you get my pay for the month,” rey locked eyes with poe, her stare hard. 

poe swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck, “that’s a little, crafty? isn’t it?”

“sure it’s kind of childish,” rey agreed, nodding, “however, we all know how you feel about her. wouldn’t you want to fuck (y/n), finn? maybe you’ll get a chance before poe will.” 

“i mean,” finn blushed slightly, trying to be sensitive for rey’s sake, “she is really pretty. she’s out of my league though.” 

this bet was tempting to poe. even though the two of you had been friends for a years, his feelings for you weren’t exactly platonic. he cared about you deeply. maybe it was time to finally ask (y/n) out, and it wasn’t the alcohol talking. 

“okay,” poe cleared his throat, “i’m in.”

rey stuck out her hand, “let’s shake on it then, poe dameron.”

as rey and poe shook hands, the wager was set. finn and chewie exchanged uneasy glances. this could only end badly. really really badly.

******

you typed away, sighing to yourself. as a nurse at the infirmary, your task today was typing out patient reports. it was tedious, as you had to include every minuscule update in the patient’s progress. your head throbbed as you typed, and you took a break, rubbing your temple. 

a knock on the door startled your thoughts, causing you to flinch slightly. however, you felt a wide smile form on your face as your best friend, poe dameron entered the office, a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand. 

“i heard you were having a bad day darlin’,” poe smiled slightly, “so i brought you these.”

“how sweet,” you beamed, embracing poe, “did you have any duties assigned today?”

he shook his head, “nah, only some mechanical work on my x-wing.” 

“slow day?” you raised a brow, taking the flowers. you inhaled their sweet scent, feeling happiness bubble inside of you. poe’s visit was much needed. 

it was approximately three weeks and six days since the night poe made the bet with rey. unfortunately, due to the war, there wasn’t any progress. it was a slight relief to poe, as he didn’t want you to know about the wager. any time you were near finn, rey, bb-8, or chewie, anxiety bubbled up inside of him.. if you found out, you would probably never speak to him again. 

however, poe desperately wanted to win. winning came naturally to him, and losing, well, poe rarely lost. and he was sure as hell a sore loser. he loathed losing, even more than the first order. poe was also a man of his word, even when he made drunken bets. the money also motivated him. who didn’t want someone else’s money?

there was one small incident that also goaded poe to go through with the wager. one night, approximately a week since the bet was made, poe was sneaking back to his room. as he passed by yours, he heard his name, and stopped, pressing his ear to the door. he didn’t mean to pry, but the way you said his name startled him. after listening for several minutes, he knew exactly what you were doing. 

you were sprawled on your bed, panties off, thinking about all the things you wanted poe to do to you. you thought it was okay since it was well past midnight, but poe had heard. and he wasn’t the same since. a small part of him wanted to just bend you over and make you take him as he fucked the shit out of you whenever the two of you were around one another. the sexual tension was almost too much to bear lately. 

“how much longer do you have?” poe referred to your shift.

“i was actually just wrapping up,” you chirped, “did you want to do something after?”

“i did,” he nodded enthusiastically, “can you meet me at my quarters after you’re done?”

your heart skipped a beat, “yeah, i can. is everything okay?”

“yes darlin’,” poe grinned, “i’ll see you in ten minutes.”

you waved to him as he exited the office, your heart fluttering. you were undeniably in love with the handsome pilot, and everyone seemed to know but him. often, poe would bring you lunch or dinner while you were at work, and vice versa. anything poe did for you made you swoon, and you felt helpless. 

it’s not like you were afraid of rejection. you were afraid of the consequences that followed. you preferred not to lose your best friend over something silly like a crush. besides, poe had more important things to focus on. the war, was one. poe came and go with the other pilots, and your worry only intensified every time he left. yet, he always came back. 

finishing up with your work for the day, you left the office, anxiety building up inside of you. was everything okay between the two of you? poe did seem to be acting a little off when he visited you earlier. maybe it was nothing. 

after navigating your way through the endless hallways and gates, you were finally at poe’s door. you knocked softly, and he swung the door open, pulling you in by your hands. 

his lips met yours forcefully, kissing you hungrily. you dropped your bag at the doorway, savoring the way his lips tasted. he licked your bottom lip, asking for entrance. you let him in, and his tongue explored your mouth, fighting for dominance. 

poe picked you up by your thighs, carrying you to his bed. he laid you down, placing sloppy kisses down your neck. his fingertips fumbled with the buttons on your shirt, desperately trying to get your shirt off you.

the thing was, poe had been thinking about all day. he was aching for you by the time you got to his quarters. the thought of you laying naked beneath his own body was too much for him to handle. he needed to experience the feeling himself. he wanted you so bad, regardless of the bet or not. 

“is this okay?” poe murmured against your lips.

you bit your lip, “yes.”

“have you been thinking about this?” his eyes searched yours, “have you thought about me fucking you and your tight pussy?”

widening your eyes, you could feel the wetness pooling between your thighs. of course you thought about this. you thought about it too often, especially at night. a heated blush filled your cheeks as you realized what poe was referring to. he must have heard you that night. 

“did you-” you began to ask, but you were cut off.

“i know babygirl,” poe’s eyes were dark with lust, “i know what you want me to do to you. i heard your cries that night, and i want you to know that you’re going to be screaming this time.”

the nickname only made you wetter. poe continued to kiss down your neck, wasting no time as he unbuttoned your pants. he slid them, as well as your underwear, down your legs, casting them to the floor. he didn’t want to make this hasty, but you were practically begging for it. he could see the desperation in your eyes. 

“you’re so wet princess,” he murmured, “are you gonna do what i tell you to?”

you nodded, and poe smirked, “good. now bend over for me.”

you couldn’t help but obey, bending over on the bed. poe unbuckled his belt, taking off his own trousers. without warning, you felt his cock inside of you, filling your tight pussy. you moaned, the sound echoing off the walls. 

poe fucked you senseless, his hips slapping against your ass as he pounded your pussy. he gripped a handful of your hair, the other hand rubbing circles on your sensitive clit with his rough fingertips. 

“are you going to cum all over my cock babygirl?” poe’s tone dripped with lust. 

“yes,” you could barely get the word out. 

poe picked up his pace, practically slamming into you. feeling yourself not being able to take anymore, you came undone, gripping the sheets as pleasure washed over you. poe’s strokes slowed, and he pulled out, cumming on your back. 

“don’t move,” he ordered, the dominance still apparent in his voice. he disappeared, returning with a towel. he rubbed your back, cleaning you up. 

you weren’t how to feel. your best friend and the man you were in love with, poe dameron, just bent you over. you were putty in his hands the entirety of it. he handed you your underwear, and you put it on. 

“do you want me to go?” you whispered.

“of course not,” poe’s eyes softened, “i want you to stay here.”

he offered you his shirt, and you gladly accepted it. poe watched intently as you slipped your own shirt off, your breasts bouncing in your bra. you slid the shirt on, grateful for poe’s scent. poe wore nothing but his underwear and a shirt as he threw the cover off the bed. he bent over, searching under the bed for a new one. 

you laid in bed next to him, laying your head on his chest, “hey poe?”

“yes?” 

“are we together now?” the question burned in your mind, and you knew you needed to ask. 

“yes,” he answered, placing a soft kiss on your temple, “i’ve waited a long time to do that, (y/n).” 

“me too,” you whispered. 

poe began to run a hand through your hair, the action extremely soothing. you drifted off, content to be in the arms of the man you loved. on the other hand, poe burned with shame, guilt bubbling up in his stomach. he loved you, almost too much. 

but a wager was a wager. and he won. 

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x y/n #star wars #the rise of skywalker #the force awakens #the last jedi #poe dameron fanfiction #star wars x reader

[peterthepark]

NSFW Alphabet

Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: smut, obviously nsfw, fluff

i think this gif may have killed me !

A - Aftercare

steve is really big on aftercare, especially if he was being a little rough with you

he’s a sweet guy, so he’s gently wiping at your skin with a hot towel, or brushing your hair as you lay against him, or giving you kisses in the places where it hurts

he’ll even cook food for you afterwards, even if it’s like four in the morning

steve makes sure that you’re okay. he’ll ask if he hurt you or if it was too much

with steve, he likes having you close to him. you do as much as possible to show him that you aren’t hurt and that you enjoyed

the only aftercare he needs is your presence if that makes sense

B - Body Part

steve loves everything about you, but if he had to choose, his favorite body part of yours would be your shoulders.

he loves leaving hickies and he loves kissing you there (but not as much as your lips)

when you’re on top, steve will sit up so he can bite down onto one of your shoulders because fuck you give it to him so well

your favorite body part of steve are his hands

they’re so soft and warm and big

you love holding onto them, especially during sex because it comforts you

you play with his hands a lot

but also his hands are really good for other things

C - Cum

when you and steve had just started having sex with one another, he would use a condom

but as time progressed, he slowly became more adventurous and needy

he’d cum on your back, or your stomach, sometimes even in your mouth if you’d let him

although

you decided to take the pill

steve had gone wild

like the good wild

he isn’t sure about it at first cause what if you get pregnant

but he starts to cum inside you

he’ll give one deep thrust before he cums and you FEEL him because he’s so deep and big and it’s kind of overwhelming but

steve’s new favorite place to cum is inside of you

D - Dirty Secret

you and steve have this polaroid camera

i think you can see where this is going

so when you surprise him with shit like lingerie

or after intimate moments such as sex

steve will snap a picture because he’s so entranced by your beauty and he wants to capture these moments

he has a collection of all the polaroids in a shoe box that is under his bed

there’s some polaroids of him in there too

his favorite one of you is where you’re sitting on your calves, and you’re looking over your shoulder at him

and there’s a few hickies on your lower back

steve loves that one

your favorite one of his is from when you were on top, and you both had literally just finished

but steve had this glow and you knew you had to take a picture

“steve, i just need you to be serious! one time!”

so steve has his arm behind his head, his hair is somehow suddenly perfect, and he’s looking at the camera with such a lustful gaze

it’s the only good picture of him so you took it for yourself

but he doesn’t know that you also took the silly ones where steve has a bra on his face, or he’s trying to wear said bra, or he has your panties over his head, and that time where you guys literally broke the bed and steve just laid there

“please? one more round?”

“the bed is fucking broken, baby. but can i least take a picture?”

E - Experience

before dating one another, both you and steve have had sex before

like once (him with nancy and you with some guy from senior year)

so you guys are fairly new at all this

but your first time with him is still perfect

steve knows what he’s doing because as he says ‘it’s not rocket science’

cocky bastard

steve can last long during sex but he can’t last long when you give him a blowjob

because no one has done that before with him

and he fucking loves it

F - Favorite Position

steve loves missionary

he likes being able to see your face and your reactions

he can also go really deep which he knows you like but he’ll stop when it gets too much

steve also loves seeing you ride him

your breasts are in his face, he can bite down onto your shoulder, and he can kiss you

your favorite position is also missionary

but doggystyle hits differently

like it actually hits differently

one time you cried

steve stopped right away

“did i hurt you? oh, jesus-“

“no, no. it just felt so good.”

it was that amazing

G - Goofy

you both are super goofy during sex

it’s sickening

like a quarter of those polaroids are goofy shit so

steve can’t stop cracking jokes

you’ll both laugh if one of you says something a little too crazy or funny during dirty talk

dirty talk is difficult sometimes because you guys can’t stop laughing at yourselves

“you like that, Y/N? yeah? like it when i-“

then steve just laughs at himself

because what the fuck is he saying

you have to make him pause because you’re dying of laughter

half the time he can’t even continue because you’re STILL LAUGHING

“Y/N! i am literally so hard right now, please stop laughing. i have to get this over with, please! im in pain!”

H - Hair

steve doesn’t have a lot of hair down there

he trims to keep it short

he’s pretty good with hygiene which is great (get yourself someone with good hygiene please)

as for you, steve doesn’t really care what you do down there

body hair is natural

he doesn’t shame you for having any or none

as long as he can please you

I - Intimacy

steve is a professional romantic

he loves to make love to you

he never forgets to kiss you during sex

he never forgets to tell you that he loves you

you guys have a very intimate dynamic and it helps your relationship a lot

J - Jack Off

BECAUSE of the polaroids that steve has of you

he’s able to jack off in his spare time pretty easily

of course, he asked you for permission if he could use the pictures for that purpose

cause he didn’t want to creep you out or disrespect you in case you weren’t okay with it

he’s a moaning mess when he’s home alone

his hands are under the covers, he’s sitting up against his headboard as he stares down at the picture of you

you caught him one time

you stepped into his bedroom without knocking and there he was

sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to you

and you can see his hand moving really quickly so you immediately know what’s happening

“baby?”

and he cums right there

“Y/N! did you - uh- mmm - hello?”

he’s so flustered and embarrassed

but you found it so hot

K - Kink

i think we all know that steve has a hair-pulling kink

and a daddy kink but he hasn’t really explored it fully

you like to tease him about it because you were there when he called himself daddy in front of a car (season 3 spoilers?)

“what does daddy want for dinner?”

“does this dress look nice, daddy?”

apparently the dress was so nice that steve ripped it as he fucked you

so yes he does have a daddy kink

and you love it

steve also has a thing for lingerie (is that a kink idk)

he’s fairly young so he doesn’t have too many wild kinks

L - Location

steve isn’t afraid to fuck you in his car

or in yours

when you’re waiting for him to close up scoops ahoy for the night

you’ll tease the shit out of him

so steve takes you to the backroom and gives it to you really good

even though it’s against company policy to do that kind of shit

but screw company policy

M - Motivation

steve likes to hear you

he likes hearing your moans, his name, just any sort of vocal cue that you’re enjoying

it keeps him going

he’s turned on by a lot of things

when he’s at your house and you happen to not be wearing a bra

and he can see your nipples through his shirt that you’re wearing

you ride steve on the sofa in seconds

but also he gets turned on during random moments because hormones

he’s a dog

N - Nope

steve doesn’t like degrading you

you’re a beautiful woman who deserves to be treated well

he hates that shit

steve doesn’t want to hurt you or make you any less of a person

O - Oral

steve could eat you out for days

he is certainly a giver rather than a receiver

he enjoys seeing you writhe and moan

his mouth is talented

but also steve is a sucker haha get it for when you give him blowjobs

he doesn’t last long during those

P - Pace

steve was in sports so as expected, he has a great deal of stamina

he’s fast

so fast

but sometimes steve will go slow

when he’s teasing you or when you’ve had a bad day and you just need him there

he often prefers a slower pace because he can feel all of you

and it also conserves him some energy for round two

and round three

maybe a round four

Q - Quickie

steve doesn’t really like quickies

unless he’s really really horny then you’ll have one

it’s a rare thing between you two because steve likes to savor the moment

R - Risk

steve likes to play it safe

unless you want to try something

he likes sticking to your normal antics

and again, he’s pretty young so he enjoys what you have in your sex life right now

S - Stamina

as mentioned, steve has a lot of stamina!

he can go on for a couple rounds unless it’s a blowjob then he’s done for

steve can only last till the third round

but he will stop anytime you want

if you’re too tired or too sensitive, he’ll stop

even if he hasn’t came

T - Toys

steve doesn’t own any toys

he doesn’t really care for them

unless it’s YOUR toys

then he’ll use them on you

U - Unfair

steve is a giant tease

it’s irritating

on occasions, he’ll edge you

till you’re begging him

“what’s the word?”

“please, steve.”

V - Volume

you both are pretty loud

steve isn’t afraid to moan

you both enjoy being vocal as possible

unless someone’s parents are home

then you have to stay really quiet

which is so hard

you guys laugh louder than you moan to be honest

there’s a lot of laughing

W - Wildcard

steve always asks for consent

even if it’s clear that you really want him

he does it anyways because that’s the PROPER WAY TO DO IT

consent

is

important

https://www.thehotline.org/2013/04/16/what-is-healthy-consent-what-isnt-consent/

X - X-ray

steve has an average sized dick

let’s be honest here

but it’s still pretty biggg ;)

he’s more on the thicker side

that’s it

steve has a nice dick

Y - Yearning

steve has a fairly high sex drive

c’mon

he’s a boy dealing with hormones

so he’s horny for a good amount of time

but he controls himself

he may be a dog but he is not a RABID dog

Z - Zzz

you pee before you go to sleep with steve

UTIs are real ladies

but anyways

steve is a sleepyhead

so he’ll fall asleep pretty easily

he usually waits for you to get back to him before he closes his eyes

but sometimes he’s really exhausted and can’t help it

it’s okay with you

he’s a good boyfriend

#steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fluff #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #x reader

[otterenergy1962]

Letting go of old beliefs - part 3

In part 1 and 2, I wrote about life situations that caused me to have limiting beliefs about myself. For this entry, I am focusing on one that has run through the core of my being and has been persistently there for my entire life. As I examine it, I am starting to locate the actual point(s) in time that caused this limiting belief.

I am plain and unattractive.

It is a simple fact that I don’t always see why others people think that I am attractive. Some people even go as far as to say that I already know that or that I take advantage of it. I’ve been accused of being an attention seeker for posting a picture of my weightlifting progress… Many people just make assumptions and seem to be quite willing to express the same to me because they feel safe behind their keyboard.  Would any of them have the courage to say so in front of my face?

One of my old desires was to look like a Tom of Finland drawing. For my straight friends, Tom of Finland was an artist who drew gay men in a hyper-masculine manner. The men were often extremely muscular and well-endowed. I always thought that I was a man who was too far from even being close to resembling a hyper-masculine caricature. I felt very different inside. I was still that overweight kid that had low self esteem and low self worth.

Sometimes guys project their ideas and feelings onto me. I’ve gotten friendship requests on FaceBook from men who seem to be a really nice guys. Once friended and without my request, a dick pic (or other parts of the body) shows up and I feel disappointed because they must only see me for what they believe I am. If I post a picture of myself without my shirt on does that mean that I am a whore and want others to automatically think think that I am seeking such? That I am willing to toss them a nude shot of me without any self-respect?

My ex husband would often say that I was the straightest gay man that he had ever known. He said this because I would often wear jeans and a t-shirt, didn’t seem to have any fashion sense or didn’t partake in the stereotypical gay man’s activities. I didn’t want to sleep around with everyone, didn’t obsess with HGTV, didn’t go to raves stoned on various drugs or believing that the grass might be greener on the other side of some stupid fence so that I could dump one man for a better one…. He even said that I didn’t have the gay designer gene!

After all, I didn’t fit the Tom of Finland stereotype. I liked reading, writing, science fiction, gardening, cooking and more. I liked walking on the beach and camping.   I didn’t ride a motorbike or wear leather and role play hyper-masculine fantasies. So, why didn’t I start acting like I was a Tom of Finland man so that I could PRETEND that I was something that I was not? My ex husband, Henry, did that all the time. I used to giggle about his desire to be a butch leather fantasy man who loved doilies, frilly antique pieces and miniature doll houses! I didn’t deem it necessary to pretend that I was something that I wasn’t.

In my journey of self discovery, I have learned that it is okay to be silly, dance to Madonna in my underwear while making dinner or singing Donna Summer tunes while cleaning the house. By the way, I clean my house in jeans and a t-shirt! How “un-gay” can that be? I love otters, not in the gay sense, but the animal. A gay otter is a man that loves bears. Bears are big and hairy guys. So, I’m not a gay otter, but am nicknamed Otter because I want to be playful like my spirit animal. A friend recently told me that one of things he loves about talking to me is how I say goodbye on a FaceTime call. I wave bye-bye like I do with my students! He says that I have this cute child-like grin on my face and wave quick little wave. He says it is really cute!  Okay, definitely not Tom of Finland! What makes it okay is that I don’t have to conform. I can be anything I want.

As I write this, I think back to when I was a child. I loved to play ball tossing games and skipping rope. Tom of Finland guys don’t skip Double Dutch… or do they? This brings up a question that my friend, Gary, recently asked me. “What would you say to that little kid that loved Double Dutch and tossing a ball against a wall whilst singing songs? Why does he like doing those things?” He would say because it was fun. There wasn’t a rule that said I couldn’t do those things. I didn’t like playing sports that much and seemed to enjoy the girls’ company more than the boys’.

It wasn’t until I was a few years later that I found out that being different would surface in a negative way. Suddenly, the word “Fag” starting being heard. The Double Dutch guy was a fag who felt dumpy and nondescript. I think that I was trying to make myself that way to avoid being noticed. If you made yourself as nondescript as possible, the bullies wouldn’t notice you as much. Duck your head and look the other way! I can even remember telling my mother that I didn’t feel good about myself. She just said that I would grow out of it…

I didn’t. I took that idea into my adult life. I continued to believe that I was nondescript and unattractive. When I came out, men liked me because of my age, or so I thought.  I figured that being young made you attractive. It never occurred to me that I was attractive in some other way.

I’ve already written about the AIDS crisis and how it affected me. When you are HIV+, you see the world through a different lens. In the early years of AIDS, people like me were considered pariahs. You were considered so because people were afraid. I remember the stories of the early years where men who had this unknown disease were isolated in rooms at hospitals, their food trays left in the hallway for fear of getting this unknown disease. For more information, read this article: https://www.out.com/positive-voices/2016/12/01/woman-who-cared-hundreds-abandoned-gay-men-dying-aids#media-gallery-media-1 . Like the men in the story, I felt abandoned. My partner at the time was so afraid of the syndrome that he refused to touch me. In my mind, he abandoned me, so I  abandoned him and tried to move on. Relationships became more and more difficult.  Even hook ups were impossible because I didn’t want to infect someone else by accident. So all those years of dealing with HIV had a major affect on my view of being unattractive and undesirable. It fortified my original concept of myself. Gradually, as I met more HIV+ men, I began to have relationships that were more comfortable, but the effect of the situation has stayed with my all of my adult life.

I’ve also written about how exercise saved my life in those times. I’ve been exercising ever since in the form of weights, aerobics and group fitness classes. I also taught them from 1990-2013 and developed a real sense of physical fitness. In those times, I developed the belief that to be attractive, one had to be muscular and fit. I was able to hide my disability though exercise and bulking up. In all that time, I never considered the possibility of looking inside and seeing the person or soul who had the muscular, fit body. All I could see was an imperfect body, never fit enough, all the flaws with my face, my body, and my soul. I could rally a major list of flaws, but seldom looked at the positives.

It has been in the last few years after major relationships ended, and dealing with cancer that I have come to see what I need to see. I began to look inside for the answers. I am still on that road to understanding and loving myself. I can honestly say that I am an attractive man, not totally because of my outside appearance, but what is also inside. My friend, Gary, again come up with a nugget of wisdom one night as we discussed the difference between being attractive, being desirable, being appealing etc. We even discussed who we thought was stunningly beautiful! The nugget was, “Keep your eyes, ears and heart open to an opportunity to try something new!” I’ve opened all of my senses to take the opportunity to see what is beautiful in me!

So, I was curious about what people thought of me. I asked a group of friends, some of them have been sexual partners and some have been platonic friends. The answers stunned me. The points that came up the most were:

“… you are a man that speaks and acts from your heart and have nothing but the best intentions for those you care about most.”

“You’re incredibly kind and caring. You’ve been kind of like a "Daddy" type to me by nurturing me and giving me tough love when needed. You're an animal lover. You’re intelligent. Strong. All of that. Confident.”

“Your eyes are intense, showing your beautiful soul and genuine warm and caring smile.  Then you’re so warm, kind, respectful, affectionate...  fun and adventurous.”

“You come across as what we call in Arabic, ‘the combination of the opposites’ - you are silent and brooding but at the same time really kind and caring, and you can be goofy and fun when the time calls for it. You are a serious man who has no problem showing emotions and vulnerability. You are strong, yet fragile.”

“You’re kind and easily let people in. And it’s just very easy to be around you, a very welcoming presence.”

Where there examples that showed that they thought I was attractive?  You bet! However, they have been tempered with the above points, telling me that it is more than just what is on the outside, and that the inside is just as important:

“Physically, for me you are definition of what I consider hot, attractive, not pretty girly but stern masculine look and a warm beautiful smile, you’re tall and muscular and very aggressive sexually chemistry that just is a drug to me.”

“Obviously you’re extremely handsome and built. You’re into a lot of fun and hot things, such as rubber and kink.”

“Superficially, you’re ruggedly handsome.”

“Ok, here’s my honest answer: physical aspects: silver, salt and pepper hair and beard are very attractive to me, combined those signs of a well seasoned man with the body of a well trained one and then you have a lethal combo that many can’t resist.”

“And top if off, you’re a very sexy and handsome man. ❤️”

So, can I honestly say that I am attractive? Am I a Tom of Finland kind of guy? The answer has been coming to me more lately. I’ve taken a few selfies and I’ve looked past the crooked smile and the grey hair. I’ve ignored the wrinkles and saw the warmth and beauty in my own eyes. There is a softness and a love that I’ve not noticed before. Is it selfish or conceited to find the self love and the things that make me attractive to myself?  I’m going to have to say no. If anyone says that I am posting pictures of me with my new glasses to just to get attention or to make me feel better by hearing everyone’s opinions… I have have something to say: These guys need to push off and find somewhere else to dump their own insecurities! They need to acknowledge their projections and their own conceptions of self onto me. I’m not a narcissistic man who posts pictures and says, “Look at me! Hello! I am here! I am beautiful and don’t I know it?”  Give me a fucking break!  All I am is a man who looked into the mirror, deep into his own eyes and found the soul and heart of a man that people find attractive and beautiful for many reasons.

I’ve since had that conversation with the little boy inside who thought he was nondescript and unattractive. We’ve consoled each other and come to love each other for all of our traits. Thank you guys (Gary, Bryan, Seann, Ray, Masoud et al), for your comments. Thank you for helping me see that being attractive starts at home in the belief of the self. I love you guys!

Carpe diem!

#self love #hope #love