#to be clear no shame to the authors at all I totally get it

[cr-komi]

"I Need to Know"

Summary: After a daunting sex experience, you're left with the idea that you're bad at sex, but is that really true? Or should you go to someone else to see if they can be honest with you about the truth?

Pairing: Kim Namjoon X Reader (F)

Genre: Smut, fluff (just a little bit at the very end)

Word Count: 6,200+

Warnings: Swearing, angst, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected sex (don't do this, please!), multiple orgasms

Author's Note: I'm back! It was super fun writing the last story so I'm doing it again :) I hope you all enjoy this one just as much as the last. Again, it's not really proofread per say? More like I just skimmed through it to quickly check for mistakes. Anyway, please enjoy and let me know what you think!

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"Wait, what did he tell you?"

Your best friend, Sana, had been resting lazily on the arm of the couch, quietly listening as you recollected the events of last night: going to a bar, meeting a guy who, unfortunately, was a total walking red flag, although due to your state of intoxication you were too blind to notice, getting into a car with him and going back to his apartment, and totally fucking up by having sex with him.

To your dismay, your memory had been completely clear, up until the moment you slept with him.

"He told me I was a bad lay." You mumbled, head hanging low.

"Jesus, what an asshole," she retorted, maneuvering herself so that she was facing you, insead of the wall she was previously eye-to-eye with, "why do you think he would say something like that?"

"Well, I know why, actually." You responded, eyes still averted towards the plush rug beneath you, "because the morning after we...you know...did it, he asked me if I wanted to be in a relationship, and I said...well, I said no."

Your words echoed in the stillness of the living room, and for a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath. The only sound was the soft ticking of the clock on the wall.

You hesitated, unsure of how to continue. The shame of your confession still lingered heavily in the air, a painful reminder of your poor judgment.

"Okay," Sana said quietly, trying to gauge the severity of the situation. "So he asked you if you wanted to like...date, and you said you rejected him. Then what happened?"

"Well...he got all mad at me. Saying shit like, 'Oh, I only got with you as a joke,' and 'You're nothing more than just a cocksleeve,' then he told me I sucked at sex and kicked me out."

"Don't worry, Y/N, you probably just bruised his ego and that's how he responded. It's nothing to be upset or embarrassed over."

You looked up at her, your eyes welling with tears. "I know, but I can't get those words out of my head. I mean, does he really think I'm bad at sex? Granted, it's not like I'm an expert or anything like that but--"

Sana reached out and gently squeezed your hand. "Sweetie, you're not bad at sex, trust me. He was just...mad but you'll both get over it. Don't let one asshole ruin your self-image."

"I'm trying, but it's kind of hard, you know? Everytime I try to have sex with a guy it lasts two minutes so they can use me to get themselves off, and then they move on to someone else. I just wish I could find someone who would be honest with me about this whole situation, someone who--"

Suddenly, a light switch went off in your head. You did know someone who could truly tell you if you were bad at sex or not. It may not be ideal, but you can only hope he'll say yes.

"I just...I just thought of something." You whispered, a hint of excitement and nervousness in your voice, "I know someone who can help me out. Someone who could... validate my skills in bed."

"Who is it?" Sana asked, equally intrigued and cautious.

You shot up from your seat on the floor, your phone falling out of your lap in the process, causing a loud crash to erupt the silence that had settled between the two of you.

Sana flinched at the sound, but continued her feat to get an answer out of you, "Well? Who the fuck do you know that can help you out?"

"Uh, it's uh...it's a little weird," you stammered, gently grabbing your phone from off the floor and checking for damages, although none were visible. You didn't want to go through with this, but deep down you knew it was the only option you had.

"Come on, Y/N, spill the beans!" Sana prodded, her voice filled with curiosity.

You hesitated for a moment, your face flushed with embarrassment, "I...I can't I promise I will tell you everything later but can you...will you..."

Sana laughed, "You want me to leave?"

"No, it's not that I want you to, it's just--"

Sana slowly got up from her spot on the couch, “Say no more, Y/N, I know you'll give me all of the juicy details later."

Sana smiled and gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, giving you the space to collect your thoughts.

You took a deep breath and gathered your courage, "Okay. I want you to know that this is... unconventional, but I know it's the only way I can get an honest answer."

"Don't worry, girl, I trust you. Have fun though, and be safe!"

You laughed quietly, "I will."

With a smile on her face, she blew you a kiss before picking up her shoes and gracefully departing. As she closed the door gently, you could hear a soft 'click' resonating in the air.

With a resounding sigh, you ran your hands through your hair, calming your shaking nerves by reminding yourself that you'll get through this. You can't change what happened, but you can take control of what happens next.

With a hint of uncertainty, you muttered to yourself, "Alright, here we go." 

You started scrolling through your contacts, nodding as your fingers finally landed on the desired number. Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly pressed the dial button, initiating the call.

After a few rings, he finally picked up.

"Hey, Y/N, I haven't heard from you in a while." His voice was raspy, almost tired in a way, and you wanted nothing more than to simply hang up the phone and live your life with the fact that you're probably bad at sex, but you pushed through.

"Yeah, I know. How are you?" You tried as hard as you could to seem as calm as possible, willing yourself to steady your nervous breathing.

He laughed into the phone, "I'm good, tired, I guess, but that's how things usually are."

You forced a laugh, "Yeah, you're right! Th-that is how things go, that's e-exactly how I'm feeling right now. Life after college isn't easy but I-I'm getting through it and I--" You winced, realizing that you had been prattling on for the past minute about things he probably doesn't care about, "S-sorry, I'm rambling."

You could hear him smile through the phone, "That's okay." He paused for a moment, seemingly thinking about something before continuing, "So, what's up? Did you need something? Or did you just want to check in?"

"Oh, no! I definitely have something to ask you. It's just...kind of hard to say over the phone, can you come over?"

It was dead silent over the line, and you just wanted to crumble into a million pieces. You were so embarrassed. Why did you think this would work? Why did you even think he would say yes to--

"Sure. I'll be over in an hour."

Suddenly, the line went dead, and your mind went numb. Was this really happening? Would he really say yes to this like you hoped he would?

Probably not, but a girl can dream.

Your heart began racing as you realized how close you came to humiliating yourself with your idea. But now, you had a chance to prove yourself and get some real answers.

"I guess I need to get ready." You mumbled, checking the time before scrambling to the shower, ready to shave off every hair on your entire body.

---

The steam enveloped you, a warm cocoon of mist that promised transformation. You stood beneath the cascading water, letting it wash away the remnants of the moments spent waiting for when you could finally see him.

Your fingers combed through your hair, lathering the strands with jasmine-scented shampoo; the fragrance was your favorite, lingering on you like a whispered secret.

"Focus," you murmured to yourself, rinsing the suds from your hair, watching them swirl into the drain. "It's just hanging out, not a life-changing event." But your heart’s fluttering betrayed your casual words.

You reached for the razor, gliding it along your skin with practiced precision, erasing the stubble in smooth strokes. Each movement was methodical, an effort to distract your mind from wandering towards him — his smile, his intellect, his unexpected kindnesses.

"Stop it," you chided yourself, but your lips curved upwards despite the reprimand. "You're just going to jinx it."

After turning off the water, you stepped out onto the plush bath mat, reaching for the towel in an attempt to begin and patting your skin dry. The mirror was fogged over, a ghostly canvas before you. With a sweep of your hand across its surface, your reflection peered back, a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability etched onto your features.

"Okay, Y/N, you can do this. Moisturize, makeup, and then--" Suddenly, a loud bang at the door caused you to jump out of your skin.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and for a moment, you hesitated, wondering if it was simply your imagination playing tricks on you. But the sound echoed in your ears, undeniable and frightening.

"Who could that be?" You thought, pulse quickening. Fear gripped your chest as you flung the towel around your body, clutching it tightly to your still-damp skin.

"Coming!" You called out, voice wavering slightly. You hurried to the door, your bare feet slapping against the cold tiles, leaving wet footprints in your wake. Every step fueled by a sense of urgency, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.

As you reached the door, you swung it open, revealing the last person you expected to be standing there, despite your phone call from earlier.

Namjoon.

He blinked rapidly, clearly not expecting you to answer the door in such a state.

"Namjoon... What are you doing here? You're early," you stammered, taken aback by his unexpected arrival.

"Uh, yeah," he replied, glancing down at his feet before looking back up at you. "I wanted to come earlier. I just... I don't know, I felt like I needed to see you sooner."

His gaze lingered on you, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of droplets of water cascading down your body, tracing rivulets over your collarbones and along your arms. It was clear that he hadn't anticipated this turn of events, and his obvious distraction only added to the electric charge in the air between the two of you.

"Are you okay?" You asked, your voice a mixture of concern and embarrassment. You couldn't help but feel exposed under his intense gaze, even with the towel wrapped securely around you.

"Uh, yeah," he said again, finally dragging his eyes back up to yours. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you or anything."

Your heart hammered in your chest as you looked at him, trying to discern his true intentions for coming early. Was it simply impatience that had driven him to your doorstep, or was there something deeper at play?

"Can you give me a moment to get dressed?" you asked softly, feeling the warmth of a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Then we can talk."

"Of course," Namjoon replied, stepping back from the doorway. "Take your time."

"No, no," you continued, slightly stuttering, you can come in, I just need a minute. You can make yourself comfortable on the couch or something if you'd like."

Namjoon nodded, noticing the tremble in your voice. He stepped inside, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he crossed the room and sat down on the couch. You closed the door behind him and retreated to your bedroom, quickly pulling on a Brandy Melville tank-top and shorts set.

You didn't put on a bra or underwear underneath...just in case.

You emerged a few minutes later, your hair still damp and looking slightly disheveled. Namjoon was still sitting on the couch, his posture relaxed but alert.

"So," he began as you took a seat across from him. "What did you want to ask me?"

Oh, fuck. Here goes nothing.

"Well...I-I was out the other night," you began, voice trembling with nerves, "and, well, me and this guy, well we...I mean he...I mean we met a-at the bar."

Namjoon nodded, listening intently, never taking his eyes off of you.

"So, we went back to his apartment and...well...we, you know, did it."

Namjoon chuckled, feigning innocence, "I think you may have to spell it out for me, Y/N."

"We had sex." You deadpanned, hands shaking slightly, "a-and when I woke up in the morning, I'll spare you the details, but...he told me...h-he told me I-I was a bad...a bad lay."

You could see the disgust and hurt flash across Namjoon's face at the mention of this guy's insensitivity. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and looked at you intently.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. No one deserves to hear something like that, especially not you."

"Well...thank you but, I didn't just ask you here for your sympathy."

Namjoon's eyebrows raised in curiosity, "Oh? Well then why did you?"

"Because I..."

Just do it Y/N, it's now or never.

"Because you...?" He continued, trying to make you finish your sentence.

"Because I want your opinion."

You averted your gaze towards the ground, too nervous to gauge his reaction.

"My...opinion?" He echoed, clearly confused.

"I want to know if I'm really bad at sex or not. So...I asked you over because I know you'd be honest with me."

"Y/N, what are you asking me to do?"

"I'm asking you to fuck me...?"

You mumbled the last part, almost embarrassed to have spoken it aloud. Namjoon stared at you for a moment, shocked, before finally speaking, "Is this a joke?"

You hesitated, not sure if this was the right move, but you knew you had to be honest with yourself. With a deep breath, you looked up at Namjoon, meeting his eyes with determination.

"No, it's not a joke," you said firmly. "I want to know, from someone I trust, if I'm really bad at sex or not."

"I-I don't know, Y/N. I mean, seriously? We haven't seen each other in over a year and now you're suddenly asking me to fuck you?" He rose from his place on the couch suddenly pacing back and forth in front of you.

"I know it's sudden but...please if you'd just listen--"

"Y/N, stop. This wouldn't work out. Ever. I'm your brother's best friend."

"But Namjoon, is that--"

"I-I have to go," He interrupted, making a beeline towards the door in an attempt to escape the situation, but you couldn't just let him walk away like this.

Frustrated, you rushed towards him, grabbing him as quickly as possible before he could leave.

He paused, refusing to look at you and instead averting his gaze to the hand wrapped around his wrist.

"Please, Namjoon, just hear me out," you pleaded, your voice a desperate whisper. "I know this is sudden, but I need some closure. I need to know if--"

In an unexpected turn of events, you found yourself taken aback as Namjoon suddenly gripped your shoulders, forcefully slamming you against the door behind you.

The intensity of his tightening grip on your shoulders sent an electric jolt through your body, and you felt your heart rate quicken as you looked up into his eyes. They were filled with a mix of confusion, desire, and something you couldn't quite put your finger on.

"You have to understand something, Y/N," He whispered, leaning in so close to your face that you could feel his hot breath fanning against your cheeks, "There's nothing in this world that I want more than to just fuck you senseless, right here, right now, but I need to know how serious you are."

You looked into his eyes, two twin pools of darkness that seemed to be clouded over with lust, "S-serious?" You stammered, "I-I am serious, Namjoon."

Namjoon's eyes pierced into yours, leaving no room for escape from this bold new territory, "Are you sure that this is what you want? You're not afraid of any sort of consequence that might follow?"

"No," you responded, steadying your voice in an attempt to sound confident, "I'm not afraid, Namjoon, I want this. Please."

He looked down for a moment, and you could tell he was battling his inner conscience, deciding on whether he should really fuck his best friend's sister or not.

He released his grip on your shoulders and ran his fingers through his hair, clearly still conflicted.

You could see the desperation and need in his eyes, trying to muster up the courage to do the very thing he knew he shouldn't be doing.

I mean, was this really the right thing to do? What if in the end--

"Fuck it."

He closed the distance between you two, his lips crushing down onto yours in a passionate and hungry kiss. He was taking control of the situation, and he knew exactly what he wanted.

Your hands shot up to his face, your fingers entwining with his hair as you pulled him closer. His hands began to grip your waist, pulling you even closer to his body as he ground his hips into yours.

Your body trembled with anticipation as Namjoon began to trail kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. You felt his breath on the sensitive skin of your throat, sending shivers down your spine.

As his mouth returned to your lips, you could taste the remnants of his hunger and desire. The tension between you seemed to melt away, as you felt your body respond to his every touch. The wetness between your legs grew with every moment that passed, as you pulled him closer to you.

"Namjoon," you breathed out, your voice a whisper that seemed to hang in the air between you. His hands embraced your waist, pulling you even closer, his body flush against your own. You felt his erection against your thigh, a powerful reminder of how much he wanted you right now.

You moaned softly, arching your back in response to the sensation, and Namjoon responded by deepening the kiss, his tongue darting into your mouth to tangle with yours. His hands roamed over your body, cupping your ass and pulling you even closer to him.

Slowly, he began to guide you towards your bedroom, stumbling through the hallway as you went, your legs feeling weak from the desire that was pooling in your lower half. You hit the bed with a soft thud, Namjoon quickly following you down. He hovered over you, his eyes filled with a hunger that you knew you could easily satisfy.

"Are you sure about this, Y/N?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. You were ready, and you knew it.

He wasted no time in removing your top, exposing your pert breasts to his gaze. His eyes widened as he took you in, his breath catching in his throat.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he whispered, his fingers brushing over your nipple, causing it to harden even more.

You moaned loudly, writhing in pleasure as Namjoon began to suck on your right nipple, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. His left hand slowly trailed up your stomach, over your chest, and cupped your other breast, squeezing it gently before rolling the nipple between his fingers. He kissed and nipped at the tender flesh, causing you to gasp.

You felt a sudden rush of heat spread throughout your body as he swirled his tongue around the tip, you've never felt anything like this before—his touch is electric, his kisses like tiny explosions on your skin.

You bit your lower lip, trying to contain the moans threatening to escape. You can feel his erection pressing against your thigh, and it only serves to fuel your desire.

"Namjoon," you breathe, voice hoarse, "Please."

He smirked against your skin, "Tell me what you want, baby."

“Wanna feel your mouth on me.”

He pulled away from your nipple, trailing kisses down your stomach while his fingers traced down your side, up your thigh, until he reached the waistband of your pants.

“Take them off, Y/N," he whispered, his voice a raspy plea.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you reached down and slid off your shorts, revealing your pussy to him. He groaned, clearly impressed as he took it all in.

“No underwear, huh? I guess you knew this would happen.”

You nodded, “Uh huh– oh, fuck!”

He leaned down and licked your outer lips, causing you to gasp and arch your back in pleasure. You moaned in delight as you felt Namjoon's warm, wet mouth close around your clit, his tongue dancing over your sensitive nub.

Your hips bucked up off the bed involuntarily, seeking more contact as he began to lap at you, sucking softly. The sensation is exquisite, the feeling of his tongue on your sensitive folds sending shivers down your spine.

You gasp as he deepens the pleasure tenfold, his hands gripping your thighs tightly to keep you in place. You run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, your head thrown back with a soft whimper.

"Fuck," you pant, your voice barely above a whisper, "that feels so good."

You can feel his hot breath on your pussy, his fingers teasing your entrance as he continues to work your clit with his mouth.

You writhe underneath him, moaning loudly as his tongue flicks over and around your clit, driving you wild. Each time he licks you, you shudder, your body tensing in anticipation of the next stroke. You close your eyes, unable to contain your ecstasy, the pleasure coursing through your veins.

You're lost in the sensation, ignoring everything but how amazing his mouth feels on you. The bed squeaks softly as you rock your hips, meeting each of his movements with your own.

His scent surrounds you, musky and arousing, igniting a fire inside you that burns hotter with every passing moment. His hands squeeze your thighs harder, teases you with his tongue, relentless in his ministrations.

You can feel the heat building inside of you, climaxing ever closer. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you near the edge, throat working to swallow back the moans that threaten to escape, but Namjoon stops you.

"I want to hear you, Y/N."

His words unleash a torrent of emotion in you, and you let out a loud moan as you begin to lose control. Your hands grip his hair, pulling him tighter against your sex as your hips buck wildly.

"I can't hold on," you gasp, your voice barely recognizable.

Namjoon smiles against you, and his fingers begin to move in time with his tongue, probing at your entrance, and you cry out, hips rocking off the bed.

You're close, so close, and you want release more than anything.

With a sudden surge of motion, he adds another finger, pushing it deep inside of you, stretching your walls. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he begins to thrust his hand, filling you up.

Your breath catches in your throat, you arch your back, fingers digging into his shoulders.

The combination of his fingers and tongue on your sensitive flesh is too much to bear, sending you spiraling over the edge. "Namjoon," you whispers, voice thick with desire, "I'm coming--"

Your body tenses, orgasm hitting you like a freight train. A moan rips from your throat as you come hard, hips jerking off the bed.

Your walls grip at his fingers, and your nails dig into his shoulders. You quiver and shake, your whole body shuddering from the force of your release.

"You taste so fucking good, Y/N."

When you finally calm down, you feel the warm stickiness between your legs, the taste of him on your tongue.

Your eyes flutter open to see him smiling at you, his face flushed with pleasure. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, and you flinch from oversensitivity.

You slowly lift yourself up after coming down from your high, meeting Namjoon's eyes, clouded with desire and want.

You lean forward, reaching for his obvious erection, palming him through his pants.

"Fuck, Y/N," he groans, his voice ragged.

"Take them off," you murmur seductively, your voice dripping with lust. Your eyes never leave his as he unzips the fly of his jeans, slowly pulling them down along with his boxers, freeing his erection. It's hard and thick, and you can't help but stare at it, your heart pounding in your chest in anticipation.

Your hands shake slightly as you reach out, wrapping your fingers around the base of his shaft, feeling how hot and hard he is. You stroke him slowly, watching his reactions, the way his eyes flutter shut and his lips part slightly. You can see the desire in his eyes, and you know that he wants you just as much as you want him.

You lean in close, brushing your lips against the head of his cock, teasing him with the promise of what's to come. He lets out a low groan as you trail soft kisses down his length

His shaft, before finally taking him deep into your mouth. You suck on him gently, using your tongue to tease and play with his sensitive head. Namjoon groans, his hands threading through your hair as you pleasure him, your lips slowly moving up and down his shaft.

His hips buck, trying to thrust into your mouth, and you let him, gagging slightly but continuing to take him deeper and deeper until his entire length is inside of you. You moan around him, enjoying the taste and feel of him, the warmth and the power you have over him.

"H-holy shit, Y/N. Fuck that feels so--fuck."

You pull back, sucking hard on the head one last time before releasing him. You look up at Namjoon, who is looking down at you with an expression of pure desire. 

His hands find their way into your hair, tangling in the silken locks as he struggles to maintain control. He moans your name, encouraging you to continue, his eyes closing tightly as he loses himself in the sensation. The sound of slurping and smacking fill the air as you bob your head up and down, your mouth working him almost mechanically.

He can feel the bed dipping slightly with every thrust of your head, your bodies moving in sync. The scent of arousal fills the room, and Namjoon knows he's close to the edge. He begins to pant, his breath coming faster as he nears his climax.

Sighing he grabs your hair tighter, pulling you off his dick and forcing you to look up at him, "Enough, I don't want to come before I'm inside of you."

Namjoon lets go of your makeshift ponytail, and reluctantly, you pull away, sitting on your haunches before him, waiting to see what he does next.

He roughly tugs his jeans the rest of the way down his legs, and you fiddle with the hem of his shirt, silently pleading with him to remove it so that he can be bare in front of you.

He obliges, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. His rippling muscles and toned abs are revealed, sending a shiver down your spine.

Namjoon's sculpted body was, in his words, "a testament to the hours of dedication he committed to both his physical and mental well-being." His broad shoulders tapered downward into a lean, chiseled torso that showcased his defined pectoral muscles. The light caught the edges of his rippling abs, seemingly amplifying their strength. His arms, strong and toned, were equally impressive - a result of countless hours spent lifting weights and perfecting his form.

You stare at him in awe and reach out, wanting to feel his body against yours. You pull him down onto the bed, your hands exploring every inch of him as you kiss him passionately. His hands run through your hair, gently pulling it back as he takes your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

His body presses against you, your breasts flattening against his chest as he deepens the kiss. You can feel his cock, hard and pulsating, pushing against your thigh.

Your hands explore his back, feeling the muscles ripple beneath your touch. He lifts himself up, breaking the kiss, and you feel his weight shift as he positions himself between your legs.

He stares at you for a moment with questioning eyes, "Ready?"

You nod eagerly, breath hitched in anticipation. Namjoon slowly pushes himself inside you, your walls tightening around him as he fills you completely. You gasp, arching your back as your body adjusts to his girth.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his eyes locked on yours.

He begins to move, thrusting slowly at first, but gaining momentum as he finds your rhythm. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you.

"Shit, Namjoon!" You cry out, your voice a mix of pleasure and pain as he hits just the right spot. His movements become more urgent, and you can feel his cock hitting your G-spot with each thrust.

"F-fuck Y/N. You’re so tight babe." He growls, his hips pounding into you.

You whimper, your body trembling from the sensation of his dick filling you up and stretching you out.

You're so close, so close to coming undo--

Suddenly, Namjoon pulls out of you, and you whine at the empty feeling, looking up at him with pleading eyes, "Namjoon, what are you--"

"Turn around," He interrupts, grabbing your hips, "ass up."

You blush at his words, but your arousal only deepens as he helps you turn around, and he positions himself behind you.

He rubs the head of his dick against your entrance, teasing you and making you crave him even more. You moan softly, reaching down to guide him inside you.

With a swift, powerful thrust, Namjoon slams into you, filling you completely as the bed creaks beneath the two of you. You cry out, your hands flying to your mouth to stifle the sound, but your voice gives out and you let out a yelp.

Your heart races as Namjoon's hips slam into you, feeling the thick length of his cock hitting your sweet spot with each hard thrust.

You moan loudly, a hand clutching onto the sheets underneath you and the other running through your hair.

The headboard hits the wall with a loud thud as Namjoon forces himself deeper inside of you, causing you to cry out in pleasure. Your body trembles under the onslaught of sensations - the feeling of being here, the pleasure spreading through you, the sound of your skin slapping together.

"Damn, you have such a nice ass," Namjoon pants, his breaths coming in short gasps as he smacks the supple skin before running his hand back over the spot he marked to soothe it.

You whimper in response, it only serves to intensify the experience for you, the sting combining with the delight of being taken so roughly.

You thrust your hips back towards Namjoon, meeting his movements with equal force, his cock leaking pre-cum onto the floor.

"And these tits," He growls, leaning forward to cup your left breast, rolling the nipple through his fingers, causing you to moan loudly without restraint, body trembling with anticipation.

Namjoon growls low in his throat, his free hand finding its way to your puffy clit, rubbing it gently as he thrusts into you.

"Oh god, Namjoon!" It's almost too much for you to handle - the dual sensations are driving you wild.

You feel yourself getting closer to the edge, but you don't want it to end yet, not when Namjoon is treating you like this.

With a groan, Namjoon pulls out almost completely, only to slam back in with more force than before. Your fingers dig into the mattress beneath you, breath hitching as your walls tighten around him, "Fuck, Namjoon, I'm so close!"

"Yeah? You gonna come again, baby?"

"Yes, Namjoon, please!"

Namjoon smiles wickedly, increasing his pace as he feels your desire growing. He grabs the back of your hips, pulling you harder against him as he thrusts deeper inside you. His thrusts are rough and unrelenting, his hips pounding into you with each powerful impact.

You can feel the dampness between your legs, the juice from your arousal seeping down your thighs and onto the bed. The sound of your breaths and his grunts fill the room as the tension builds. Your nails dig into the mattress, leaving small indentations as you cling to the fabric for dear life.

His hands roam over your body, caressing your skin and heightening your sensitivity. He tweaks your nipples, causing you to cry out with pleasure and pain. His fingers explore your inner thighs, trailing along your sensitive skin, making you tremble with desire.

"Oh, shit," Namjoon groans, his eyes rolling back into his head as he feels his own orgasm beginning to build.

With a final burst of energy, you push back against him, meeting his every thrust as he pounds into you, his cock rubbing against your G-spot with each strong movement.

"Fuck, Namjoon!" You cry out, your body trembling uncontrollably as you feel your climax beginning to take hold.

"Shit, Y/N, I'm so close," Namjoon growls, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he fights to hold back his orgasm.

Your walls tighten around him once more, pulling him deeper inside you as you scream out in pleasure, your body writhing beneath him as you feel the waves of your release crash over you. Your walls tighten and release around Namjoon's pulsating cock, causing him to groan in pleasure.

His own release is becoming too much to hold back, and with a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself deep inside you as he lets out a loud groan. Your name on his lips as he cries out in pleasure, "Holy shit, Y/N!"

His hips stutter, body trembling as his orgasm overtakes him. You can feel his warm, fluid spilling inside of you, filling you completely. The sensation is unlike anything you've ever experienced before - it's intense, it's overwhelming, and you love every second of it.

He holds you tightly against him, his breath hot against the back of your neck, as he slowly starts to regain his composure. His heart is pounding against your back erratically.

You slowly open your eyes and look back at him, a content smile gracing your lips. "That was incredible, Namjoon," you breathe, your voice soft and sultry.

He kisses your neck, his lips leaving a trail of warmth as he moves down your shoulder. "I think I agree," he murmurs, his voice already starting to calm down.

You both lay panting, your bodies entwined, the sweat glistening on your skin, the scent of passion filling the room. He pulls out of you, his cock wet and sticky from your connection. He pulls his hips away from you and collapses next to you on the bed, both of you trying to regain your breath.

The seconds pass into minutes, and you both lay there in content silence, your bodies entwined, the remnants of your encounter still lingering between you.

Namjoon's fingers trace lazy patterns on your back, his touch gentle and soothing. He leans in close to your ear, whispering, "Let me clean you up."

"Mmm, okay," you reply, your voice still thick with lust.

He gets off the bed and grabs a warm cloth from the bathroom, bringing it back to you.

Slowly, he turns you over, and you lay on your back, your legs spread wide, his body hovering above you. He takes the cloth and smiles, gently dabbing at your sensitive folds, cleaning away the remnants of your sexual encounter.

You moan softly, your body still quivering from the intensity of your orgasms. His touch is soothing, yet it sends shivers of desire through you. He continues to clean you, his fingers exploring your delicate folds as he does so.

Once he's finished, he places the cloth on the nightstand and lies down beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you close.

His fingers trace the curve of your hip, massaging gently as you both lay there, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow of what the two of you have just done.

The room is filled with the sound of your heartbeats, in sync and pounding in rhythm with each other. You feel safe and secure in Namjoon's arms, and you turn to face him, a gentle look etched into your features, "So, what did you think...?"

He softly strokes your hair, "About what?"

"Well...am I a bad lay...?" You mumble the last part and he smiles, cupping your cheek in his hand.

"No, absolutely not. You were...perfect. He was probably just upset that you rejected him and that's how he reacted."

You snuggle closer, feeling his heartbeat syncing with yours,"I'm glad you're here with me," you whisper.

Namjoon nods, "Me too."

You smile, feeling his warmth enveloping you.

The tentative silence is broken by Namjoon's voice as he speaks, "Do you want me to stay the night?"

You think for a moment, "Yes, please."

"I'll be right back," he says as he gets off the bed, returning a moment later with a clean sheet and blanket. He carefully covers the two of you with the cozy layers, your bodies pressed closely together.

"Sleep well, Y/N." He whispers.

"Sleep well."

As the night progresses, you both drift off to sleep, the dim light from the moonlight streaming through the window casting soft shadows on the wall. The scent of sex lingers in the air, a heady reminder of the passion that had just passed between the two of you. You are lulled into a peaceful slumber, your hearts beating in harmony with each other's rhythm.

#kpop #kpopidol #kpop icons #kpop smut #bts #bts smut #bts army #bts namjoon #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x fem!reader #bts x you #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon bts #namjoon icons #imagine #smut #fem reader #fluff #x reader #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan rm #bangtan boys #rm #kim namjoon

[problemnyatic]

maybe internet leftism would be more effective if so much of it wasn't framed in this sneering, shame-on-you language that seems mote intent on guilting people for not being leftist enough than actually extending an understanding hand to people who people who, believe it or not, do actually realize that something is deeply wrong with society despite not being Properly Enlightened And Educated on All Of Leftist Theory as to why.

Yeah, we all post the You Are Not Immune To Propaganda jpeg, but do you still have an internal threshold of propaganda exposure by which others stop being human to you? Do you write off anyone who doesn't already understand the things you do as stupid? Do you understand that to create a genuinely far-reaching movement, you need to be willing to reach people that are substantially different than you and meet them on their level?

Yeah you believe everyone deserves human rights, but do you actually respect the differences in life experince you'll face when engaging with people outside your circle of theory-reading leftists?

And just to be excruciatingly clear: none of these are rhetorical questions. None of these are accusations, and if your response to these questions is to get defensive rather than to self-reflect on whether your practices reflect your principles, I urge you to then ask yourself if your desire to create effective change is being impeded by your apparent need to feel like a "good leftist".

I really, really get feeling frustrated with the world, with how fucking many people seem content to just buy propaganda, with how frustrating and exhausting it is to walk people through the baby steps of what feels like having a very basic grasp of reality. Your outrage is justified and your feelings are very real and deserve to be respected. I'm not here to tone police people expressing their very real anger and grief at the horrible ways global imperialism is hurting us all.

My point here is that, when your goal is to actually inspire others to seek further education on leftist matters, to actually increase the total amount of leftism in the world, you need to be asking yourself if the methods you are using are actually effective. It can feel excruciating to be patient when the world is already so on fire, but you can't just shame people into not needing to be met on their level. It demonstrably does not work, and will work against all of us if the impression you're giving others is that leftism is the mean, scary option even to people who genuinely mean well and want to do better.

I see so many posts rightfully trashing on the widespread culture in the US and beyond of teachers and authority figures simply punishishing people who don't know what they're expected to yet, instead of actually teaching them. I see so many posts on here about how it's okay to need to learn life skills you were never taught. Why does this seem to evaporate when it comes to teaching others leftist theory? That's not rhetorical either, please, really, genuinely ask yourself this question, let it sit with you for a long time.

I know how urgent it is to get people to come around. I'm panicking too. I'm angry, and I'm frustrated, and I'm dumbfounded at how long its taking so many folks to get a fucking grip on what's so broken about society. But I understand that the assertion that the answers should be obvious does nothing to change the fact that, to so many people, to enough people, it isn't. That we need to meet them on their level, with kindness, if we're to get them on our side. Leftism starts at home. It starts with your personal relationships, how you treat others when it's inconvenient and difficult.

Leftism starts with kindness.

#problemnyatic rambles #problemnyatic thoughts #problemnyatic rants

[ken-dom]

All of Your Flaws are Aligned with This Mood of Mine

Sebastian Wilder x gn!reader

900 words

∘₊✧ Summary: This time, Seb goes too far.

∘₊✧ Authors’s notes: Based on the line 'When have you done anything that anyone liked?' from the original La La Land script (covered in this tasty post), and inspired by conversations of Seb being a total bastard with the darling @heresthestorymorningglory, without whom I would write far, far fewer fics. Title from Irresistible by Fall Out Boy.

∘₊✧ Warnings/content: NSFW, blow job, humiliation, orgasm denial, set during a fight with Seb but it's insinuated the whole relationship with him is pretty toxic

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

‘When have you done anything that anyone liked?’

The words hang heavy in the space between you – a space that has steadily expanded with every jibe and cutting insult you’ve thrown at one another in the last half hour. The record playing behind you fades into deathly silence.

Sebastian, with all his suave charm and quiet intellect spills pure poison when he’s feeling this way out, when you’ve rubbed each other up the wrong way and can’t manage to halt the descent into waters you’d usually not dream of treading with anyone else.

You stare him out. He’s gone a step too far this time and he knows it. He swallows hard, throat dry and grating, trying to mask his regret, trying to stand his ground, ready for you to fight back.

His eyes glimmer as you lift your head proudly to answer his delightfully disparaging question.

The words you plan to kick back with are too delicious to get wrong. He waits anxiously as you lick your lips, your eyes calculating as you finally open your mouth to speak.

‘You like it when I suck your dick, don’t you?’

That glimmer in his striking blues turns into a flash of surprise — he didn’t expect it, sure, but it isn’t just that. He liked it, too.

Sebastian shifts uncomfortably under your gaze, your words swirling through his clouding mind and coursing downward to pool, hot and uncomfortable, at his core.

‘Well? Don’t you?’ you push.

He clears his throat, cheeks powdering with a brand new deep blush, replacing the prickling heat of infuriation that had coloured them pink before.

He blinks his gaze away as you stride right up to him, shame consuming him whole at how his body is responding to this. Does it count as humiliation? Does he like that? Shit.

When you land an inch away from his face, he hopes you’ll spit some spiteful remark, but instead you reach to touch his jaw with steady, gentle fingertips, and he flinches.

‘Seb?’ you whisper, almost seductively. It shouldn’t make him dizzy, but it does.

An, ‘Mhmm?’ is all he can manage by reply.

You laugh then. Mocking, cruel, and he shudders. His trousers have grown incredibly tight in the last few seconds. He’s scared, he realises, and the fear is thrilling.

You drop to your knees, shoving his trousers down past his knees, rough and uncaring. Licking your lips more pointedly this time, you gaze up at his irritatingly handsome face. He whimpers at the intensity. His cock leaks and twitches before he can even think about trying to stop it – not that he could really control that even if he wanted to.

It’s weak and pathetic and not at all in the same realm as the Seb who was spitting out a stream of all the worst things you think about yourself combined with that special brand of Sebastian Wilder venom that rubs salt into wounds he’s already inflicted.

His hips jerk forward, knees buckling at how jarring this all is, and you lick a warm, wet stripe up his length.

He whines, fingers scrambling for purchase on the wall he’s backed against.

‘Lost for words now?’ you taunt, chuckling to yourself as you lean in for another, more lingering taste of him.

Seb’s eyes squeeze shut as you gaze up at him, and you swear you see a tear drip free to trickle down his cheek.

You smirk around his cock, wrapping your fingers around the base and massaging as you take his length into your mouth and suck hard, swirling your tongue to flick over the tip each time you pull back before swallowing him whole again.

It’s already the best blow job he’s ever received and he’s embarrassed at how quickly he’s nearing his release with you working him like this.

He needs to fight back; needs to make you work for his release as punishment, but he’s leaking steadily now, throbbing in the warm comfort of your mouth, and his vision is turning blurry.

‘P-please,’ he begs, more to himself than to you, and you can feel him nearing his peak now.

You slow, and he breathes a sigh of relief, hoping it will give him time to make this last, stand his ground.

His whole body shivers as you drag your teeth along his length, but then you kiss his pre-cum coated tip and sit back on your heels admiring him, watching every little pulse of his thick, needy cock.

The relief that washes over Sebastian dwindles. He cock feels cold and unloved without your lips around it, and you’re taking too long to come back.

Chest heaving, he tries to hold his breath long enough to open one eye just enough to glimpse down and gather what you’re playing at.

He sees you getting to your feet, unhurried and smug.

Brow knitting, he opens both eyes wide, starting at the glittering of your eyes as you lean in close enough for your breath to brush against his ear as you whisper, ‘Fuck. You.’

Breathless, cock aching, dripping onto the floor between his feet, he watches you leave. Watches you struggle a little with the lock on his door before letting it slam shut behind you, not turning back. Gone.

#sebastian wilder #sebastian wilder smut #sebastian wilder x reader #sebastian wilder fic #la la land #ryan gosling #ryan gosling smut #ryan gosling x reader #ken-dom writes

[freshfraise]

Hi tee, Welcome to tumblr! I really loved you Richarlison work, and was wondering if you could please do another one like that where he gets more possessive after he sees the reader in his shirt or something? Thank you so much!

NUMBER 9

pairing: richarlison x reader

summary: It’s game day. Y/N proudly represents her boyfriend’s jersey, not realising just how much it means to him and the risks that come with wearing the No.9.

author’s note: my first request! sorry it took a bit long, i wanted it to be perfect :) hope you like it!! possessive richarlison!! comments/feedback are appreciated <3

Game day. It was the day he’s been preparing for what seemed like decades. I hated and loved it. Hated the trepidation and suspense that came with it, but there was nothing I loved more than being in his shirt, seeing him score a goal and have the whole entire stadium erupt. In this game so far, it was 3 - 2 to Tottenham, with one goal and one assist from Richarlison. The match was brutal, those three goals were not achieved easily. It was as clear as day that Richarlison was being targeted. Every time he landed on the floor, I winced, sending shockwaves to my heart;  As if it was my very own skin being grazed against the stadium grass. I could tell he was getting exasperated, his plays slowly becoming more barbarous as the minutes went on. It was a matter of time before he was sent off. 

Suddenly, at the 87th minute, the opposing team scores an equaliser changing the whole trajectory of the game. My hands cover my face in vexation, in absolute disbelief at the goal just scored. The unpredictability of this sport never failed to amaze me. Added time with a total of 6 minutes commenced, leaving just enough time for a winning goal. Barely seconds into the added time, Richarlison was getting substituted, which I knew he wouldn’t receive well. As soon as he reached the bench. He was kicking stray water bottles around and ultimately causing a commotion for the cameras to capture. He sat down, his jersey over his face leaning back towards the sky. It was as if I knew his exact thought processes at this moment.

Luckily, where I was sitting was close to the pitch, so it would be much easier to reach him after the game. In the blink of an eye, the game ended, with Spurs losing 3 - 4. It was a heart-rending  ending after an extensive game. As soon as the whistle was blown, the crowd went wild, partially cheering, partially maddened. Suddenly, I became wary of my surroundings, as although I was near many guards, the other team's supporters severely outnumbered us and began to get frenzied. The dark blue nine that laid upon my back translated to a big glowing red target for hurling abuse. Panic flooded my senses as I wanted to get out of this as soon as possible. I wanted to signal for him but the team was coming out in a completely different way, leaving me to rely completely on the guards beside me.

Eventually, we managed to get out and landed in a completely different place. I was placed in a hallway waiting for Richarlison to come out and meet me. I was uneasy, flurried and extremely tense right now, all I wanted was to be with him. Out of nowhere, an arm snakes around my shoulder, and I immediately knew it wasn’t who I wanted it to be. His grip was tight and he reeked of nauseating alcohol. Probably already pre- celebrating his team's win. I tried to detach his fingers off my shoulder but they snapped back on like a silicone snap on watch. I tried to leave completely, but he was clearly stronger than me. I looked around trying to seek help from bystanders, but of course there was no one. I’ve never felt so helpless. I looked down in shame and I was reminded of the jersey I was wearing. The player leaned into me, saying “What’s your name?” Silence. “Come on, don’t be shy. What's your name?” 

I hang my head low, before I hear someone say, ”I’m giving you three seconds to get your hands off my girl.” I look back seeing him, more agitated than ever, standing across from us in the hallway. I let out a breath of relief as his grip loosened and I practically ran to Richarlison. I hold him, shaken up at the current events. He hugs me, my visage facing his chest as he tightly cradles my head. He calls out to the other guy, saying “Never put your hands on her again. Or I will kill you.” My heart sank to my stomach, as he departed from my grasp swiftly, and made his way towards the player. He was trying to defend himself, but Richarlison wasn’t falling for his excuses. Embarrassment washes over me, as I wish that I was home curled up in my warm bed right now, anywhere else but here. I’m curious to see what Rich has planned, so I stay quiet.

In a very abrupt manner, Rich grabs the collar of the player's shirt, and uses it to slam him against the wall. I gasp unknowingly in shock. Rich begins to warn him about his actions. “You see a pretty girl and you get entitled? Do you feel good harassing girls like her? Huh? Know what is yours, and know what is mine. E aquela linda garota lá definitivamente não é sua. (And that beautiful girl over there, is definitely not yours.) In short, if I ever see you again, you’ll get more than a little shove to the wall, você entende? (You understand?)” He finishes, releasing the boy from his hands. He looks up at Rich in an apologetic manner, and walks back to his team changing room quickly.

In the midst of walking, Richarlison calls out to him, “Wait, I’m not done with you.” He curls his index finger, beckoning him to come back. Shamefully, he walks back to him. An amused smirk is plastered on Rich’s face. “Tell her you’re sorry, or I will go into that changing room and announce to your teammates that you like to harass women in your free time. Then, I will go to your manager and give him a couple reasons to rethink your future in the team. Or, you could just apologise. Your choice.”

I roll my eyes at his sensationalism and wait for an apology nonetheless. He mumbles a feeble apology and practically runs back to his teammates. As he slips behind the door, Rich reassures me, “Don’t worry, I’m still telling his manager.” 

He engulfs me in a yearnful hug, holding me tighter than ever before. “Meu anjo, I’m so sorry.” He kisses the top of my head and leads me out with his arm over my shoulder, and his hands interlocked with my fingers. Once we finally got into his car, I finally stopped tensing and began to allow myself to be at ease. Comfortable silence filled the car, and sleep was catching up on me before Richarlison gently tilted my jaw to him and whispered, “Meu número nove. You look so good in my shirt.”

#richarlison #football imagines #football fanfic #football one shot #football #footballer #richarlison imagine #possessive #neymar jr #brazil #brazil football #angst

[moochalove]

Last Nights Mistakes and New Beginnings (Pt. 3)

(yandere!kazuha x pregnant!reader x scaramouche)

This one took me awhile to write bcs I was thinking about all the possibilities….. 🥹 I think i’m okay with how this one turned out… I promise the baby will become relevant 🗣️ (next part, trust)

word count: guys next part i’ll add a word count i promise…

not proofread 🫢 just pretend my mistakes aren’t present 😋

TW: Alcohol mention

You try to get up out of bed but there’s a weight on you. Opening your eyes you’re met with the sight of Kazuha, he’s resting on you so peacefully. It totally contradicts his actions from before. He’s holding onto you as if you were about to disappear. Trying to recall why he was here causes your mind to feel numb but also ache.

Once you realize your position your heart starts beating faster and faster. Was he gonna keep you inside by force? Or was he gonna just get up and leave? That’s something he’s good at doing… But from what you know he probably won’t wanna let you go so soon… Should you kick and scream your way out? Hmm… It wouldn’t be too ideal to run out of your house buttass naked either… If you had to you would. Or… You could try and manipulate Kazuha into thinking you’re willing to accept him as he is and coax him into letting you outside even for a second before bolting to one of your acquainted neighbors' homes. Surely they’ll understand and let you in, that is if you can make it to them before he catches up with you. You know for a fact the door is unlocked since he’s been glued to you ever since he broke in.

Going through with this plan meant you would learn shame and humiliation but if it meant getting your freedom back and possibly this creep locked up, you knew you could do it. You had to.

Hands snake up into his cream-colored hair, gently massaging circles into his scalp. He returns the favor, arms with slight a bulk hug around your waist, his head lays on your chest, “You’re up.” You want to push him away and curl up into a ball but you know in order for your plan to work you’ll need to be open with him. “I’m sorry about earlier, maybe I was overreacting… Will you forgive me?” eyebrows furrow with deceptive guilt as you pout ever so slightly. Pulling him into a hug you can feel him smile into your neck, “Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetheart.” If only you could truly be clean of his touch, at first you treasured it but now it’s something you want to run from. “I’ll go get the warm water started, wait here.” After placing a small kiss on your cheeks he leaves your room, leaving the door open so he can keep an eye on you.

You take this chance to grab your phone and message Scara since he’s the only one who understands the situation to some extent-

“He got me. send help.” Alongside the message you send your address, someone will surely come help this time.

You shove the phone into a pillowcase and leave it on the floor. Rushing to lay back down and act like nothing happened Kazuha walks back into the room before scooping you up with ease (no matter your size) and is carrying you to the bathroom.

Holding a clear glass of what looks to be water? He nudges it against your lips implying for you to open. Hesitantly parting your lips you slowly gulp down the liquids. Once it passes your throat you’re coughing it up, it was alcohol. Instinctively your face scrunches up and you fear the worst for your baby, you’d rather consume no alcohol during your time but unfortunately, you weren’t able to do so. Kazuha on the other hand is laughing at the way you choke and cough it up, he takes a swig of it before he kisses you, forcing more down your throat. “We drank that the night we met, don’t you remember? Actually, probably not. It’s pretty strong,”

•

•

•

Scaramouche had been napping lightly on his uncomfortable bed. He shoots up immediately when his phone goes off, blurry eyes scan through the short message, and he’s immediately calling the authorities. Much to his surprise, they called him to the station that wasn’t too far. They wanted to see the message to make sure it wasn’t some cruel joke. Running as fast as his legs would take him he finally arrived at the police station clutching his phone in hand. Quickly pulling up the message he shows them it, immediately they realize they got a call from the same number a while ago they decide it’s worth investigating.

Someone at the front desk tries to calm him down and assure him you’ll be okay but he’s more angry at himself. He should’ve just stayed with you, even if it meant Kazuha would be upset with him, not like it meant much to him anyway. After a few minutes of beating himself up an image of you flashes in his mind calming him down.

•

•

•

You can’t really remember much but all of a sudden you’re in a beautiful dress, your makeup is done slightly, and your hair is awfully soft from being brushed. Pacing around the living room you’re hiccuping every couple of minutes and your face feels hot. Every time you try to form a coherent thought it feels like it’s being melted away by something invisible. Suddenly your hand is clasped by a large one, it strokes your thumb and gives your own an affirming squeeze. He holds onto your shoulder and you both start to sway to the soft music in the background. Laying your head on his chest with a gentle smile you hold onto him dearly as his hand snakes around your waist as he spins you around before dipping in for a kiss. Upon release, you smile happily as giggles erupt from your chest. Everything feels so wrong but you can’t seem to distinguish the fact that it’s wrong.

There’s a loud bang on the door that causes you to hold your head. Something about it is familiar. He lays you on the couch and places a blanket over you to keep you warm from the cold outside air.

To his surprise it was two policemen, they tried poking their heads inside but were stopped by Kazuha shifting his body.

“Can I help you?” he asked so innocently. “We received a report of domestic violence and we just wanted to confirm everything was alright.”

“Is that so… Well, my niece did accidentally call the authorities. Although me and my girlfriend have been drinking, perhaps we were being too loud-“

“We would like to come in and inspect the house.” without warning they push him aside and immediately they are met with a wasted you.

“Kazu~ You didn’f tell me you w-hic were inviting people over!” Lazily throwing the blanket off of you and attempt to stand but immediately fall back onto the couch. “Mmm sorry, can’t seem to hic- stand..”

“How much have you been drinking?” one of the cops asked flatly. “Mmm not mmmuch- hic” your words slurred. “Would you happen to have your phone on you?” he seemed fed up with your drunken behavior. “I don’t… I don’t know where it’s a-at…” a sudden wave of sleepiness crashed over you, you stretched out your limbs before curling into the blanket. Once you sober up you’re going to regret your actions.

“Well, she’s out cold.” Kazuha rubbed the back of his neck before apologizing quietly to the officers. Before they left they wanted to inspect the house quickly, so he showed them around, in the bedrooms, bathrooms, backyard, and kitchen. They seemed impressed with how nice the house was and with Kazuha’s smooth talking they were out just as quick as they came in. Once again, he apologized for the inconvenience and wished them a good night.

•

•

•

Once the cops return they tell him the situation and he probably misunderstood it. Scara is a mess inside his head. Guess you really can’t rely on cops to do anything, huh. He needed to get to you and confirm you’re safe and sound if he didn’t want you around someone like Kazuha at first- he most definitely doesn’t want you around him now. It’s already late and if those cops were telling the truth, which he doesn’t see why they would lie, you’d probably be sleeping. (Hopefully not comfortably in Kazuha’s arms) Huffing out a sigh he walks back home. Even though you officially just met he’s fallen so hard for you, this wouldn’t be the first time.

You don’t remember since it was so long ago but you both used to be childhood friends. Both of your parents were always busy with work-related stuff and it was too easy to leave you both at a daycare. At first, you didn’t get along, both of you would argue about which color was better, which fruit, who had a better imaginary friend, and the list goes on... Over time you both learned to agree with one another and eventually, you started sharing things. The staff were always amazed at how you both went from disliking each other to practically being glued to each other. After some time your mother decided to quit her job so you wouldn’t feel alone so she pulled you out from daycare. This had Scaramouche confused and hurt. Did you dislike him? Had he done something wrong? Maybe he was being mean and didn’t notice. Ever since you left the staff noticed how he played by himself in the corner often with a scowl on his face. It felt like a part of him was missing.

Once again, both of you are now in middle school. Immediately he recognized you but held his tongue. Your seat was in front of his for art class but you never seemed to talk to anyone other than your friends. He wanted so bad to talk to you but could never build up the courage. Throughout the whole year you never once spoke to each other, he took it pretty hard… After all that time, you’re still upset with him.

The final time you see him is in high school, you’re both sophomores. You had dropped something in the hallway outside of your homeroom, a very fancy mechanical pen, to be exact. Scaramouche didn’t grow up poor but he wasn’t too fond of asking for specific things because he didn’t want his mom to think he was interested in it and end up buying him boxes of said things. It immediately caught his eye, he looked around before he went down to snatch it. His face went cold with fear when someone else’s hand bumped into his. Usually, he was careful with these things yet this time he would surely get caught. Immediately he played it off with an awkward laugh before pulling away, yet his heart skipped a beat when he was met with familiar e/c orbs staring back at him. It’s not awkward at all, staring into each other’s eyes it looks like you both long to say something but it’s immediately cut short when both of your friends approach from behind.

“Hey Y/n, what’s taking you so long- is this guy tryna steal from you- Don’t worry Y/n, I’ll make sure he never tries to steal from others again-!”Breaking the longing stares you turn around to call down your Oni friend Itto. “Woah woah- Calm down Itto- Nobody is trying to steal anything from anyone- Kokomi come get him, please.” She yanked him by the back of his jacket, trying to ease the situation by removing him.

“Oh yeah? Maybe you should pick on someone your own size, buddy.” Replied a certain ginger who looked like he was already throwing off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves.

“For goodness sake- we’re going to be late. Let’s go!” The tall blond lady replied in annoyance, she’s pinching the bridge of her nose.

Scaramouche awkwardly picks up the pencil before handing it back to you. After that, he just removes himself from the situation.

Childe is yanking Itto’s longer hair, in return Itto has his larger hand on Childe’s face, and both look ready to take a swing at each other. A small crowd has formed around them both. Signora simply grabs Childe by the scruff of his shirt before dragging him away. “You’re making a scene, ugh. All over one measly pen. Pathetic, both of you.” Signora’s scoldings were always hard and cold. “It doesn’t matter I already returned it-“ “Oh? Who knew you had a heart! I’m sure that girl is practically head over heels for you now.” She spat coldly as she navigated both of them through the crowd of people who gathered to watch the brawl, halfway through she dropped Childe, “Ow- thought I was getting a free ride to class, guess not.” “As if, I just got my nails done. Now on your feet.” Scaramouche laughed at their interactions, he knew some people might view them as cold and scary but to him they were his friends. “What are you laughing at, it’s creeping me out.” Signora feigned a disgusted voice but she was also smiling. “Oh, nothing. Let’s get to class, Teach is probably mad that we’re late.”

Meanwhile back at your group Kokomi is scolding Itto in a mean voice, the next second she’s apologizing to the teacher in a calm and collected voice. Itto doesn’t really care he’s more upset that someone tried stealing from his friend. He immediately stands straight when he hears Shinobu’s cold voiced ask what all the commotion was. He should probably run…

You, on the other hand, are fiddling with the pen. Have you met that person before? He looked like he knew you and wanted to say something.

Originally you wanted to thank him (even though he was trying to steal your expensive pen…) as an excuse to talk to him and get to know him but… he always seemed to be surrounded by his large group of friends. You knew they wouldn’t let you talk to him alone either... As much as it bothered you, you let bygones be bygones.

•

•

•

By the time he’s done thinking about he’s already home. So surely, getting some rest will make some of the stress go away, right?

•

•

When you open your eyes your head pounds and aches into your skull. What happened? Something about this feels familiar. You should feel sad and alone but the warmth behind you proves otherwise. Blinking a few times you try and figure out your best move. Should you just get up or should you try and coax him to get up with you? What did it matter? He’s holding you captive in your own home. The doors are probably locked anyways… Thoughts freeze in place when you feel warm kisses placed on the nape of your neck.

“Good morning, beautiful.” his voice is raspy, laced with sleepiness. If the circumstances were different you would probably be kissing him from how sexy he sounded. Luckily? Unfortunately? The circumstances are waaayyy different.

Curling up into a ball you let out small painful whimpers while holding onto your head. You always had the worst hangovers when you didn’t have something to worry or be sad about in the morning. Odd… This is something you should be worried about but… you can’t help but feel yourself play the part too well. Maybe it’s the numbing fear getting to your head, hmm…

Once again he’s bathing you and dressing you like his own personal doll. “Today, I was thinking we could go get you some new clothes. Your life will be changing from now on, so you’re gonna need a new, and cuter, wardrobe! No offense but I noticed you've gained some weight since we last spent the night together. Don't worry though, I think it's cute!” a smile crept up on his face as he brushed your hair before placing cute hairpins in it. Fighting the urge to tell him off how you didn’t want to wear whatever he had planned for you and that he should go find someone else, you hold your tongue back, painfully. Instead, you reply with a hum and nod. Your hand laid over your stomach, for the sake of your baby, you're going to get out of this situation no matter what.

Guiding you to his fancy and expensive car he, like the gentleman he is, opens the door for you and buckles you in. Immediately you notice the harsh perfume smell and spot fake eyelashes, sealed condoms, and a very certain tone of blue hair on the floor of the car. Just seeing the hair strand made you feel upset at Kazuha, surely Ayaka’s brother would beat the shit out of him if he knew he wasn’t loyal to his younger sister and that one day he may break her heart. You felt bad for all the girls he’s treated badly in his life, what brought him to the point where he felt the need to treat such amazing women so badly? Not dwelling on the thought too much because you’ll make yourself sad, you look forward at all the passing cars and people.

If only they knew you were being held captive. Not for long though, a certain Scaramouche is currently deciding his best move to get you away from Kazuha’s tight grasp.

♡ taglist: @swivy123

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #fem!reader #kazuha x reader #yandere!kazuha #kazuha x fem!reader #pregnant!reader #scaramouche x fem!reader #childhood friends #implied cheating but this doesn’t count #stockhom syndrome

[justenjoythegossip]

THE DANGERS OF OVER-SELLING

The new Medium article and the one about the split…

We just got a new article by Medium about Chris titled: "Meeting your heroes..."  I wrote my thoughts about the previous Medium article that made quite the splash, if you want to check it out... https://www.tumblr.com/justenjoythegossip/742890431073992704/will-albas-immaturity-racism-and-alleged?source=share

But this new one takes the cake. Here is the link, if you want to check it out… https://medium.com/@elijaheros/meeting-your-heroes-b14db09791a4

Of course, the article starts by saying that, as a general rule, "you should never meet your hero". However, they paint Chris as the perfect exception to the rule as he "stands out as a shining example of integrity, compassion, and genuine kindness". The article ends with this: "sometimes, meeting your hero can be an experience that exceeds all expectations!"

Well, well, well... I am going to try be as kind and diplomatic as I can about this "article". 

I suspected the article detailing their split was a work of his PR/crisis Management team but that they tried to pass it as the work of a fan. The main goal was to give as much hype as possible to his appearance at the Con in Seattle which will be broadcasted live on YouTube. It seems all the clearer now after this piece that basically paints him as a saint...

The issues with that new Medium article…

I will say that Chris and his team seem totally oblivious to the issues they are facing at the moment and it looks like one more provocation. One too many in my opinion. If one thing has appeared clear in the last couple of years, it is that Chris lacks basic integrity. You don't kind of marry a fat-shaming, racist, anti-Semitic, Nazi sympathizing teenage looking woman for real or for PR purposes if you value morals and principles. You just don't. Of course, mods will tell you that Abba is pulling the strings, that he is blackmailed into doing this… They will come up with any excuse to make him look like a poor innocent victim, when it couldn’t be further from the truth. 

As for the picture that is painted here, it's very similar to the previous article about the split, it has little to no credibility. Why? Because it is SO over-the-top, it is absolutely ridiculous. Christopher’s Haven is making a comeback by the way. I was waiting for the line that said that Chris reads to the kids with cancer as they get their chemo but the "author" didn't cross that line. I wonder why they didn't, it would not look any more fake as it currently stands...

There are two main issues here. First of all, his team seems to fail to understand why Chris has received such a severe backlash from his fans. The reason for it is that the disconnect is far too great between the brand/persona he was selling to the public and his true self. Because, and I am sorry to write this, this man has lied to the public for the past decades about who he is. Whether he is in a purely PR relationship with Abba or whether they are really married, he is not who he has portrayed himself to be. He has lied!  The second issue here is that the article over-sells Chris, holding him to an impossible standard. How can he live up to that? He can’t. Especially not now…Nobody could.

The dangers of “over-selling”…

Over-selling tends to do more harm than good and it can have a negative impact, especially in the long run. It can raise serious doubts in the mind of fans who will no longer be able to trust the actor’s brand, especially when it is currently in crisis. When the trust is broken, it’s almost always impossible to get it back. Obviously false expectations can never be met. 

Why publish such an article even if it is passed as a work of fiction by an adoring fan? It does way more harm than good. And since his Con is allegedly sold-out, if it is supposed to help him get more views on Youtube, It seems desperate as hell. But this whole stunt has looked desperate. Ridiculous, lame, cringe, tedious, unimaginative, corrupt and desperate.

[lylylylyy]

As a Touya stan I'm frustrated with the new chapter because Enji still mainly saw Touya as some kind of responsibility, not his kid wanting his attention from the very beginning.

When Enji faces Touya, the first thing we know about him is that he notices phosphor, which leads to the question of asking about Shouto's well-being.

Enji's question is rather reasonable since Touya made it clear that killing Shouto is his goal, and it's natural for Enji to be concerned about Shouto, the kid he showed to care the most in the series who could be dead. However, what annoys me is that he showed no concern about Touya's health-I mean, looking at Touya. The whole fandom and the characters in the manga are all wondering how he could be alive. He is basically on his last legs yet Enji here showed zero concern about this fact.

Contrary to Enji's concern for Touya in the previous chapter, he chose to ask the rather triggering question related to Touya's whole trauma of being thrown away by his parents for his younger brother, which is not beneficial for Touya's overall health state at all. Seeing this, I couldn't help but feel that some people in the fandom are way too optimistic about Enji's parenting skills. He is trying, yet his attempt is far from a good try, so I don't think the worries and frustrations are unsupported in the text.

Also, I noticed the final words, "父に課されたのは…" after the last panel. It's not Enji pov but still represents the author's attitude towards Enji's emotions.

父 means father, and 課された is not a very good word here. It means be imposed on, usually used to describe a burden or loan. Thus it gives me the feeling that the next chapter will not be the heart-to-heart conversation about Enji's love for Touya when he was young, just a talk about the responsibilities Enji had to take. No potential affection or caring parents vibes, only some obliged resignation.

I understand that Enji's reactions would absolutely make sense, since Enji was never a kind person in the past and he's not used to the thought of caring for Touya as a parent for 10 years. But as a person whose supposed redemption arc of becoming a decent father is receiving so many praises, Enji in this chapter feels pretty lame and upsets me because he failed to reach that bar again.

Horikoshi's been pretty busy, and I hope he could get the rest that he deserves. I understand that this chapter is short due to his alarming health condition and we will get the next chapter where meaningful things would probably happen between Touya and Enji. However, judging from the text, their upcoming interactions seem rather dim and uncertain to me.

We know that Enji thinks his mission(my translation of 使命, the word he used in the chapter) is to keep eyes on Touya, but keeping eyes on Touya now won't just magically remove the pain of being rejected for over a decade. I pessimistically think it would be just another battle shounen fighting scene, where Enji takes damages from Touya and fails to say anything that would be impactful enough to stop Touya from his self-destructive mental state. It might make a difference as Shouto and his Phosphor did, but it won't be strong enough to totally chill Touya. I just hope the next chapter will prove that I was wrong.

Considering the cultural background, the typical harsh East-Asian father Enji would not suddenly become a person that has no shame in acknowledging his affection and worries towards his son. Like the scene with Natsuo getting kidnapped, I strongly doubt that he would give the interactions western society considered the right things to do.

As for the Todoroki endgame, I can't help but think about Shouto, who genuinely desired to know his brother despite the sad fact they probably shared 0 good memories in the past. Touya 100% knows that his crimes would be a burden for his father, but as a person with very low self-worth, he won’t anticipate his family to want him back as a beloved member. I feel it pretty unrealistic if Enji turns out to be a loving A+ parent and solves Touya's issues all by himself, so I believe the narratives won't just go that far.

Therefore, I assume the father-son fighting scene would end with Shouto interfering. However, another scene of stopping Touya with ice again would be pretty unnecessary. My guess is AFO would do something stupid and Toga would be convinced by Ochako to stop the parade and help her friends, and Shouto might come to help Touya take AFO.

PS: I am not a native English speaker so I might end up writing weird or offensive sentences while not knowing about them. Please tell me if I was wrong or being rude _(:з」∠)_

#mha 376 #bnha 376 #mha spoilers #endeavor #todoroki enji #dabi #todoroki touya #ly thoughts #mha manga spoilers #mha manga leaks #shoto todoroki #touya todoroki #enji todoroki

[songliili]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

thank you @happiness-of-the-pursuit for tagging me

How many works do you have on ao3? only 10 as of now, but i hope it'll be 13 by the end of the year

What's your total ao3 word count? 107,767

What fandoms do you write for? rwrb and supernatural. although it's mostly rwrb as of now

Top five fics by kudos:

we all have a hunger - Henry is a porn star, Alex is a fan.

bro, you're fucking hung! - Alex is fascinated by Henry's huge dick.

Fill My Stocking - Alex wants some attention and Henry has to get creative.

you should floss more - Dean goes to the dentist and is his usual disaster bi self. Lucky for him, his dentist doesn't mind.

footage of (y)our love - Alex and Henry get married, and 2/3 of the Super Six documented their love story.

Do you respond to comments? yes, i do my best at not leaving them unanswered!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? probably I Had Some Time (With You) because of the mcd tag and the kind of open ending with claire and jody that i left just in case i decide to write claire's story. but i also think that dean and cas had a soft beautiful and loving end, so yeah it's sad but i don't think it's a sad fic? more like haunting in a positive way (this makes me sound so pretentious but i just love that story so much and i'd love for more people to read it it too)

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? i genuinely don't know? all of them have happy endings imo... probably psau1 tho. simply because i'm writing the sequel and i know they're even more happy lmao.

Do you get hate on fics? thankfully i don't!

Do you write smut? yep! and i thought i wasn't able to. (peep at my two most popular fics being rated E and the second being just pwp)

Craziest crossover: i don't think it's crazy but I Had Some Time (With You) kind of is a crossover with the last of us? i mixed up tlou and spn.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? not that i know of, but i don't think anyone would steal my stuff, i'm nobody

Have you ever had a fic translated? ... well............. eight years ago i wrote a fic for a kpop group and before orphaning it someone asked me permission to translate it. i don't know if they ever did it, and i can't check cause i don't remember the title so i can't even look it up

Have you ever co-written a fic before? i've started writing a fic with @zeppelinmixtape a while ago, we should pick it back up.

All time favorite ship? destiel and firstprince, obviously

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? probably the great dean court off, and it's a shame cause i love it and i want to finish it cause i have the ending clear in my head, but i changed so much as a writer that i think i'd have to rework it all to avoid a stark contrast between then and now/the future.

What are your writing strengths? once @cactusdragon517 told me that my italian brain "lends so much to it. It is so beauful and the way you write it feels like reading something SACRED." (yes, i copy-pasted their message cause i saved it in a note on my phone for when i need a ego boost)

What are your writing weaknesses? i'm verbose but at the same time i skim on things. small things turn into big things and fics that can be under 5k turn into 10k, 'cause small, insignificant details and context in conversations are needed; but not descriptions. for the life of me i can't remember that people aren't in my head and they need to know who's talking and what the place they're in looks like.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? i'm a sucker for it, but if they're written in a language i know i will be critic of the translation used - and if i know the author i will suggest a translation that in my opinion is better.

First fandom you wrote in? aforementioned kpop fandom. no, i will not disclose what group or pairing.

Favorite fic you've written? I Had Some Time (With You) and we all have a hunger. but also mh fp, ciayaq? and psau2 that live in my wips folder. (and if y'all want to tell me what's your favourite of my silly little fics, let me know!)

i guess i have to tag 20 people now, i don't know who's done this already so forgive me if you did.

(mae, chrissy, consider your previous tags as tagging for the game lmao)

@father-salmon @underwaterninja13 @leojfitz @read-and-write- @littlemisskittentoes @galitzine-nick @inexplicablymine @affectionatelyrs @gayrootvegetable @wordsofhoneydew @emmalostinwonderland @rockyroadkylers @three-drink-amy @theprinceandagcd @imyourhoneybeespn @princehgejfmw @absolute-audacity @firenati0n

#20 questions for fic writers #20 questions #tag game #songliili answers #songliili writes #firstprince #rwrb #red white and royal blue #destiel #supernatural #fan fiction #fanfic #fanfiction

[one-way-dream]

The King's Shadow - Ch. 2

Rating: General

Words: 3000+ (4600+ Total)

Media: Sonic the Hedgehog, Sonic and the Black Knight

Pairing: Sonic/Lancelot (Sonic/Shadow)

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Developing Feelings, Pining, Alternate Universe - Medieval (Check AO3 for any tag changes!)

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

Chapter: 2/3

Link to the original work

AO3 Summary/Excerpt:

The other’s embarrassment slowly melted away into a resigned sigh, before turning into a smile; mischievous in appearance, but nothing short of putting the sun’s radiance to shame. And then Lancelot truly felt the carefree and trusting weight, the sheer warmth of the newly crowned king’s hand in his own.

And he knew more than ever that his life now belonged to him.

Author's Notes: WOW sorry this took so long! nearly two years..... truth be told it's just been sorta sitting there but i finished up the chapter tonight (ya boy got medicated finally) and i hope to get the next one eventually too! hoping to get it out within the next 5 years /j

thanks for reading and for all the support!! ❤❤❤

Previous/Next

Lancelot came to learn that King Sonic was not fond of excessive armour.

Surely, it was made clear enough by the fact that he only sported a gauntlet most of the time during his time as a self-proclaimed knight. Though despite being crowned as king, he still insisted on minimalism.

“It’s just a little too much, y’know?” Lancelot barely picked up on words that still sounded slurred to his untrained ears, “It’s easier to run with less of that metal stuff on me.”

Said “metal stuff” lay in a carefully discarded heap in the grass by the entrance to the moat, which would undoubtedly be picked up by one of the castle’s workers after the king would accidentally forget about it. Despite being polished daily and in pristine condition, there wasn’t a soul alive in the kingdom to actually wear that armour for more than two hours a day.

“Alright, patrol time is finally over! Ready to move out, pal?” Sonic glanced back at the knight keeping a respectful distance between them, who gave a silent nod in agreement. Lancelot’s visor generally hid his face during daytime patrols – the sunlight had been stronger and brighter than usual, bouncing off dirt paths and stone walls all the same. It was a bit too harsh for the knight, who preferred the cool whispers of the evening air dancing through his black and red quills. It was quiet. It was safe.

The king technically wasn’t obligated to wear armour if he didn’t please, but Lancelot noticed that Sonic at least attempted to wear it once a week, even if it was just for show until they were out of sight from the prying eyes of townspeople. The knight assumed it was a way of balancing his lifestyle of freedom with the customs that a life as king expected from him. In a sense, Lancelot found it to be rather noble.

He could only imagine the turmoil he faced leaving his people – it became clearer each day that there was a major cost, a sacrifice, to staying in a different world as their king.

As they made their way into the open meadows, Lancelot watched the other hedgehog stretch to the best of his ability, locked hands reaching above his head suddenly swooping down to the flower-adorned grassy field under them, fingertips grazing the white straps of his well-loved ruby sneakers. 

“Y’know,” He starts, posture reverting back to a casual stance as he turns towards Lancelot, “I didn’t really expect to have to wear all this bulk.”

The knight felt his frown deepen without him meaning to.

“That ‘bulk’ is a royal heirloom, passed down from monarch to monarch, your majesty.” But as soon as he processed the sound of his own voice, Lancelot regretted his tone. “…I— I beg you to forgive me for my insolence, sire.”

Sonic could only shrug, as if Lancelot hadn’t just spoken abrasively to him like he was some low-ranking squire. As if their relationship weren’t that of a legendary king and one of his many knights. As if their relationship didn’t have complexities woven into it through the gaps between each fibrous cross of thread. Impenetrable, so to speak, – not only to outsiders, but also to them.

“I mean, you’re not the same as him, but I’ve definitely heard far worse.” He smiled back at Lancelot even brighter somehow, like he didn’t have a care in the world, “Don’t sweat it, Lance.”

The knight’s expression grew even more perplexed.

“What?” Sonic stopped, expression mirroring Lancelot’s own, or at least whatever he could make out through his visor, “Surely that painfully abrasive tone meant that you’re a little more comfortable around me right?” He said with a sarcastic grin, motioning with a nod of his head for them to keep moving and conversing.

“That’s a good thing then! You can let your quills down and be as casual as you want, and in return I can give you a nickname. That sound like a fair trade?” Sonic laughed breezily, grazing the back of his hand against Lancelot’s arm in a half-hearted but friendly nudge.

Warmth stirred in Lancelot’s chest at his words, at his touch; like a sweet nectar that trickled down his parched throat and made him feel alive.

“You know, back home I have a friend who goes by a nickname. He’s like a brother to me, so nicknames came pretty naturally after I met him.” He spoke fondly, not catching the way he had Lancelot’s attention rapt thoroughly and genuinely, “His full name is Miles Prower, but we all call him Tails. Actually, he looks a heck of a lot like the blacksmith we have back in town! A kind and brilliant kid… just like him.”

Lancelot tried to crumple the odd feeling he got at the mention of “brother”. The conversation had more or less settled into its usual back and forth of the day as they continued strolling through the field of sweet violets; admittedly, one of Lancelot’s favourite parts of each day.

Usually these hours were somewhat one-sided conversations, but only in the sense that the king loved to talk, and Lancelot was more than content to listen and affirm. Though, he kept silent mostly out of respect and necessity – he had a responsibility to focus and protect the king, after all.

But today, when the winds are quiet and gentle and the skies bloom with iridescent clouds above them, somehow everything shifted on its axis again; for once, Lancelot was willing to finally hold up his end of the conversation. His heart throbbed loudly in his throat, in his ears, as he took a few short breaths and practiced his next few words in his head.

“I… have a sister.”

There. He said it.

He breathed her back into existence, and never again could she be kept buried deep inside of his soul.

The king slowed his pace, glancing to the side at Lancelot who still kept his eyes hidden under a visor. “Yeah? That’s really nice to hear!” Sonic immediately perks up, livelier than ever at the fact that his favourite knight companion was finally, finally opening up to him, “What’s she like? How old is she?”

Lancelot’s hand slowly reached up to his visor, hovering by the edge as he contemplated, before lowering his arm again and letting it settle by his side, not catching the way the king’s ears drooped slightly at his actions. He let a smile play on his lips instead, reminiscing about sky blue and moonlit gold.

“She’s… a good person, and she’s a little older than me. Full of love; always eager to share it with those around her, even if that means giving up parts of herself.” Lancelot spoke wistfully, affectionately, and in the back of his mind he realized that this was the most he’d ever divulged to anyone about her, “Whenever she’d scold me, there was never any harshness to it – even that was always out of love. She wasn’t perfect of course, but to me she was the closest anyone could ever be. More than anything, I… I think I miss her stories and her mischief the most.”

“Oh… what happened to h—” Sonic’s eyes widened in realization as bit his own tongue into silence, shaking his head and hastily covering up his tracks, “I’m so sorry— please disregard that, you really don’t have to answer anything you’re not—”

“…It was illness, your grace.” He solemnly answered.

“And it’s alright, please do not apologize. We live in difficult times, after all.” He gave the king a small smile, though he didn’t doubt that he could see right through his mournful expression, “I do miss her dearly, but… now that I have shared a piece of her – proof of her existence and a piece of my soul with someone like you, I do not think she will be forgotten so easily.”

The king comes to a standstill and turns to face the other, and it’s only then that Lancelot’s mind catches up with the gravity of what exactly he’s said. He hadn’t said enough to betray how he truly feels, surely, but he can’t help but feel his joints lock up anyway. The first emotion that rushes to him is dread, but then he remembers who Sonic is in the first place, takes in his charming smile in a single brave glance, and relief cleanses every bit of dread out of his system.

“Still…” The king steps closer, reaching out and letting his hand gently hold onto the other’s arm. It takes every bit of self-control Lancelot had been taught in training to not have a visceral reaction at the contact, “I really am sorry for your loss.”

But Lancelot had not been prepared for the faraway look in Sonic’s eyes as soon as he chanced a glimpse at his face. There was something… unreadable. Almost sorrowful in its nature; although something told him that King Sonic wasn’t just mourning the loss of his sister.

For the first time in his life, he didn’t want to listen to his gut feeling.

As quickly as his expression had come, it was gone like the wind, replaced with another casual smile. A rare glimpse of his walls unguarded. Lancelot thinks carefully – but even if Sonic was going to pretend that nothing happened, he couldn’t let it go so easily. The knight wills his heart to settle before taking the dive.

“Do you miss it?” He finally says it, quiet enough that the other could disregard him if he so pleased. “Do you miss your home world, sire?”

“I…” Sonic opens his mouth, then shuts it with a shake of his head, as if to shake an unwanted thought out of his mind, “Nah, I’ll go anywhere an adventure takes me.”

But somewhere in his heart, Lancelot felt that he wouldn’t.

He would tire of this adventure.

He would tire of his duties.

He would tire of this world.

Would a free soul like King Sonic be able to bear the crushing weight of a kingdom in pain? His kindness had seemingly no end in sight, but for how long until he runs on empty? How long until he may have to realize that there were more mouths to feed than plates to give? Or worse: more sick people than there were beds in monasteries? Would Sonic give out pieces of himself at that point, or would he have the courage and humility to step down?

Rather, would Lancelot be able to bear the sight of seeing the king’s spirit broken until it was a mere ghost of what it used to be?

“You’re thinking way too hard about this,” Sonic spoke somberly, as if reading the other’s mind. “I’ve got no plans to leave just yet.” Lancelot felt his heart leap out of his chest from being caught off guard. “Did… you hear what I just said?” he paused, “Sire, did you perhaps use witchcraft to listen in?”

Sonic stopped in his tracks, turning on his heel with an incredulous look on his face only to find that Lancelot was completely genuine. He laughed, bright and lively.

“No, of course not. I just have decent intuition… erm, sometimes.”

They continued in silence for some time, taking in the scenery around them and Sonic carefully stepping around the flowers the best he could. Things continued as normal, walking side by side for once instead of Lancelot acting as King Sonic’s tail. They watched the sun slowly dip closer to the horizon – but there were still many hours left of the day, and many more hours to spend with each other. The thought alone made his heart squeeze for a moment, and he selfishly let his mind wander with thoughts about the other world, wondering if he could ever be a part of it, even if only in his dreams.

And then, against all odds, Lancelot made a request for the first time.

“Your majesty, if you don’t mind… could you tell me more about your world?”

-x-

Another month had passed peacefully.

The king and Lancelot had gone on their patrols together as usual, Lancelot never needing to prod Sonic for answers about his world, as the latter happily indulged him with hours upon hours of grand adventures and small tidbits about his dear group of friends, and occasionally, rivals. It was the one time in the day, besides the mere minutes he spends in his chambers before inevitably crashing from exhaustion, where he felt like he could truly let his guard down and be free.

Lancelot smiled to himself. Even under the rule of a king, he felt free for the first time in years.

In the present day, King Sonic had an audience with the duke of a neighboring kingdom, accompanied by Merlina. Though one of the knights generally accompanied the king, he insisted that he could manage the meeting this time, especially with Merlina’s assistance. Lancelot casually shrugged – another unique quirk that he adapted from Sonic through his behaviour and his stories alone, although he made sure to only ever do it when the two of them were alone. It makes him both nervous and happy that he’s able to learn so much from him, that he’s able to grow even closer to him as his right-hand – his most trusted knight.

Both Sir Gawain and Sir Percival had invited Lancelot to a sparring match between the three of them, as a means of refining their skill over the course of the meeting, as well as during Sir Lamorak and Sir Galahad’s absence. If he had recalled correctly, the two of them had been sent on a great expedition.

Percival and Gawain clashed viciously, sparks flying as they both met their match. Sir Percival knew all the right points to hit; she had a keen eye for weakness and vulnerability, which meant that letting one’s guard down could be fatal within seconds of realizing it. The latter had to be the most powerful of the knights – sheer, raw, energy channelled directly into Galatine as he threw himself head on towards Percival. Lancelot personally preferred a more strategic method of fighting, but even he couldn’t deny that his strength had the potential to overwhelm him.

He stares up at the overcast sky, already missing how blue it was that day he had a heart-to-heart with his king. As the other two finish their match, with Percival as the victor, his gaze eventually settles on the dirt floor before him. Now that he really thinks about it, before he met Sonic, he’d… never really noticed these things about the others.

“…Do you know if the rumors about the king are true or not, Sir Percival?” Sir Gawain was the first to speak, chest heaving from their intensive sparring match.

Lancelot’s head shot up from the ground, any fluttering thoughts screeching to a halt as he stood from his place on the bench.

“Sir Gawain, I do not wish to partake in the spread of—”

“Rumors…?” Lancelot interrupted, taking the other two knights by surprise. It was rare enough for the black hedgehog to speak, let alone intrude on a conversation. Gawain cleared his throat, looking hesitantly between Lancelot and Percival, before he continued, “Yes, I thought… you might have already known, given that you are closest to King Arth— I mean, King Sonic.”

Lancelot continued to look onto Gawain in questioning silence, his breath caught in his throat.

“King Sonic is said to depart back to his world in a week’s time.”

Everything slowed down to a crawl for Lancelot, and he couldn’t fathom why. It was a simple sentence, but one that had the power to shatter his entire world.

A week’s time? He couldn’t be serious. It just didn’t make sense to him how or why everything was happening so suddenly.

But more than anything, even if it wasn’t true, why couldn’t Lancelot simply be happy for the king returning to his beloved home? Nausea brewed inside him, twisting and thrashing around in his stomach – anger only adding acid to the mix as he stormed up to the other knights, eyes locked onto the red echidna.

“Sir Gawain.” Lancelot says coldly, looking straight at Gawain’s confused expression and feeling relief in the back of his mind that he left Arondight propped against the bench. He didn’t know what he would do if he brought it with him. What had King Sonic even done to him to make him feel this way? “If these allegations prove to be false, and lest I find that you show yourself to be the perpetrator of these lies… there will be consequences.”

“What… do you mean by ‘consequences’?” Gawain’s look of confusion sharply morphed into one of intimidation, shoulders tense and letting out a low rumbling growl under his breath as if to challenge the other knight, “Tell me, do you doubt me, as your fellow knight? Do you doubt the loyalty I have for our king?”

Something ached inside Lancelot’s very core. Whether it was burning him up inside or settling him with a pit of grief, he couldn’t begin to differ.

“That is quite enough.”

Percival speaks up next, deep and commanding – enough to make them less tense, but not enough to break their unwavering eye contact, ruby upon amethyst in a deep scowl.

“If you are not guilty of any such crimes, then you shouldn’t feel the need to bare your teeth back at me.”

But Lancelot was the first to quickly mellow, the guilt setting inside him and taking the anger’s place as he realized that he was being impossibly defensive, far enough to threaten a fellow knight. It gnaws at him, because he knows well enough that he’ll regret this action in the coming hours – especially if the king hears about it.

He steps back, giving up and tearing his gaze away from Gawain in defeat as he clenches his jaw, heartbeat in his ears loud enough to make them twitch.

“All I was… —all I am ever after, is protecting our king’s honour.” Lancelot watches Gawain lower his guard as well, rage fading from his features as he also takes a step back, seemingly willing to listen. “I will not let his image falter.”

“That is all there is to it.” He lied.

#sth #sonic the hedgehog #satbk #lansoni #satbk lancelot #sonadow #shadow the hedgehog #sonic and the black knight #satbk king arthur #sir percival #sir gawain #my work #my fics #fanfiction #I THINK THATS IT OK #party rockers in the house tonigh

[azrielgreen]

I just came from your tik tok about ao3 etiquette and enjoyed your commentary about kink shaming and rating systems and why it’s not a good thing for fandom. How it drives creators away or forces them to delete work because they don’t want to be judged and witch hunted… Thank you for using your platform to bring attention to those matters. 💚

I was wondering what your take is on another fandom matter: comments people leave that sort of perpetuate a fandom hierarchy and dig at other writers to lift other writers up. Like “this creator carries the fandom on their back” or “you’ve ruined me for all other writers”. Stuff like that. I’ve seen it across multiple fandoms and always felt a little stung by it because what it says to me is that everybody’s work in fandom as a collective isn’t appreciated. I feel comments like those turn fandom into a popularity contest where select writers are skyrocketed to fame and small time creators are drowned out. I’m not sure if that’s just me taking it personally, or if those comments are actually rude.

Obviously I’m not unaware that you’re popular and rightfully so. I’m not trying to come off as bitter, or guilt trip you for your success. I apologize for my question if it seems this way. I tried to word it carefully, but I’m not sure if i communicated my thoughts accurately.

I know you’ve been part of smaller fandoms/ships before and often orphan your work, etc. because you write for yourself, and you never expected to blow up. So I guess I’m just curious to know your perspective since you know both sides of being smalltime and being famous, and if your standing in the Steddie fandom has changed anything for you or given you a new outlook. If it’s a lot of pressure to be so looked up to. If you ever miss being more of an unknown creator so it could give you more freedom. If it ever makes you feel uncomfortable to be popular.

Thank you in advance if you respond to this. I know it’s an odd message. 💚💚

Hi, firstly thank for you this question. It's a really important one actually and being mindful of the fandom in which we share space/interact with one another is, in my opinion, essential.

So, looking at your question - the elevation of one author above others in terms of praise - it's definitely not ideal language being used in the examples you gave and there is always, I think, a way we can express ourselves with total authenticity and honesty, but also not stepping on people. Now, this is not saying that anyone who comments things like that IS stepping on anyone and I have to be clear that 99.9% of all my positive fandom interactions here have been expressed beautifully.

However, our language can always be shifted to something more inclusive. Because ultimately, this fandom is MASSIVE and there are a stunning amount of beautiful, meaningful works that due to its size don't get anywhere near the recognition by comparison that they deserve. No single creator carries anything on their backs, a fandom is a community and it should be a mutually beneficial/supportive one.

In terms of a popularity content, I think that happens in all large fandom spaces to a certain degree. This phenomenon has both positives and negatives, but overall, I try to stay out of the "contest" as much as possible. Cliques are deeply unappealing to me and having been bullied out of several fandoms in the past, I can confidently say I would never want to be in one. I have good friends, writers and readers alike, in this fandom and I dare believe that no one I am close friends with would ever treat people poorly.

In terms of my own experience, I do still regularly orphan works. Orphaning my work keeps me humble to a degree and I love creating just for sake of it, with no audience in mind. I personally don't feel any pressure to be looked up to as I will always write for myself, even on main, and if people don't like it, there are 16k other fics out there to read (and counting). It does make a little uncomfortable to be considered popular, or well known more accurately. It's strange to scroll Twitter (something I rarely do these days) and see my name and my fic being very casually discussed. Sometimes good, sometimes bad. I miss feeling invisible, that's true, but it'll never stop me from writing what I want and whoever enjoys it along the way, that's a wonderful added bonus.

In terms of "fandom heirarchy" - a strange system that mostly operates on word of mouth, sometimes the hits/kudos numbers on AO3 - I think it's important to remember that a lot of the reason behind this structure is that some of us were the first people writing Steddie back in June 2022 and so those numbers/familiarity are naturally inflated due to legacy. I definitely always try to keep that in mind and I will gas ANYONE up whose work I love, always, while trying to pay tribute to all authors and creators in this space however I can.

I have to say I do dislike the elevation of one author above others on general principal and I see people getting competitive, hostile and even sometimes resorting to bullying. The SteddieBigBang Discord server disaster (which I heard about from my friend) is a solid example of that and an excellent reminder of why I value my space and autonomy so dearly.

Operating in this fandom has absolutely opened my eyes to the pitfalls of such mainstream interaction but it's also allowed me to reach such a wide audience of people who've shared with me their own experiences, which I treasure. I've healed a lot of my own personal trauma in writing what I have and I'm incredibly grateful to have a place here. I will always advocate to elevate all authors within the fandom because everyone's work is important, beautiful and essential. I will always defend everyone's right to consume and create whatever they want in a safe, encouraging space.

I make new discoveries every day based off my own searches for content and gently advise others to do the same, rather than only ever relying on rec lists and "algorithm" style suggestions. If I published You're Divine today, out of nowhere, I doubt it would find any traction beyond the few people (like me) who tag-search for the very specific things they like.

Thank you for this question and for taking the time to relate your thoughts so the way you did. I appreciate you. 💜💜💜

[linkspooky]

Your Choujin X writeups are great, it's a shame the fandom is so small that they get relatively few notes. I'm glad you appear to have a more sympathetic view of Azuma than most CX readers I've seen. I think I remember you predicting before the time skip that Azuma would be the one to leave Yamato Mori, but recent chapters look more like Tokio will diverge from them - any predictions for the how our main trio may be split up?

This is a great question anon, and my answer is... I dunno. By which I mean to me it could go either way at this point. Me and my friend have actually debated on this, which one is more likely to side Sora and which one is going to stay with Yamato Mori. I'm still leaning towards Azuma leaving Yamato Mori, but there's evidence for both sides of either Azuma or Tokio leaving. Predictions about the Azuma and Tokio breakup underneath the cut.

Evidence of Azuma Leaving

The first piece of evidence is that Azuma is pretty clearly headed for a negative character arc, to parallel with Tokio's growth. While Tokio grows more self-confident and independent, Azuma in turn starts to feel inferior and resentful. Azuma states it pretty clearly at the end of their first fight, he's no longer Tokio's hero, the relationship they had in the past where he was the one who Tokio looked up to is gone now. Azuma can't really handle the shifting power dynamic because he was as dependent on Tokio as Tokio was on him.

Instead of bridging the gap in their relationship, Tokio leaving has made Azuma even more distant from him. Azuma isn't even on speaking terms with Tokio right now. When he's introduced to Tokio, the first thing he learns is that Tokio freed an entire province from a dictator while Azuma just a few days ago failed to stop a plane crash resulting in the deaths of so many people.

It's not like Azuma wasn't training while Tokio was gone, and yet from Azuma's perspective it seems like Tokio is still leaps and bounds ahead of him. Which could push him to conclude that Yamato Mori is not enough, either out of a desire to be stronger, or personal resentment for Tokio.

Evidence number two, Tokio and Azuma are a clear parallel to Sandek and Batista. The two of them trained alongside each other to be heroes, probably all their lives, only for one of them to betray the other. Batista is the one who either left Yamori, or fled after his brother attempted to kill him. Azuma is the Batista in that parallel, he has the ability that's less powerful than Tokio's, and Batista has multiple times took a vested interest in him even asking Zora if she could hand off Azuma to him.

Azuma also made Tokio promise to kill him if he ever went rogue, which is another parallel to Sendak being commanded by their profit to kill Batista.

Why go so far to make this continued parallel throughout the story, unless Batista was planning on inviting Azuma to their side?

The third is more recent and may just be me going out on a limb here, but Azuma met this clearly supsicious girl searching for corpses on the beach, and didn't really investigate into her any further. Noh Mask met with her shortly after this scene and dragged her into a bigger conspiracy with The Tower / Zora's followers, so she's going to be plot relevant and the fact she ran into Azuma isn't a coincidence. After all, every single detail that happens in a story is purposefully put there by the author to mean something. IE, if they ran into each other once it's likely they'll run into each other again.

One more important detail is, Azuma's not dumb. He found her right next to a washed up corpse, and even the girl thought she was done before at that point. Only for Azuma to quickly change his tune and act totally oblivious. This is the face he makes, before he smiles and offers her crabs instead. It's likely he actually knew what she was doing there, but for some reason decided to let her go, maybe to investigate her further instead of blowing his cover right there.

While Tokio is the one who is more curious right now about hearing what Zora has to say, he's also steadily growing and gaining influence in Yamato Mori.

It's Tokio of all people who spoke up against the Opium mission, and Tokio who convinced the higher ups to listen to his plan instead. He's once again the one gaining more strength and confidence, while Azuma's position in Yamato is stagnating. Sato even makes a comment along the lines of Yamato's soldiers not being what they once were.

If Azuma isn't making progress with the Yamato Mori, if he's stagnating and not getting any better that's even more reason for him to want to leave.

Evidence of Tokio Leaving

The first and most obvious is that Zora is pretty desperate to choose Tokio as her successor. Tokio is also the one who seemed to have inherited the most power from Zora, as she comments that being an iron choujin makes Azuma unworthy of the mark. In the parallel between the big three Choujin X of the past, Tokio is clearly the parallel to Zora, he uses the same wings and scythe swords she did. Azuma is the parallel to Queem because they both use recurring tank and gun imagery in association with their characters, and Azuma's choujin power seems to have come about because of his obsession with war, weapons, the military, etc...

Tokio is also the only one who's spoken in favor of listening to Zora about her prophecy. Azuma's been keeping his head down the entire time just listening to orders in Yamato Mori, Ely even points out that Azuma didn't speak up when he disagreed with Tokio. It's Tokio who's questioning authority and speaking up directly in front of them.

Tokio is also the first person who sympathizes with Zora, when the whole of Yamato Mori who are the ones who cast her out seem only intent on hunting her down. He's expressed a clear interest in talking to her.

Tokio also has been diagnosed with a clear case of Kaneki Ken SyndromeTM! By which I mean Ishida Sui reuses ideas from previous works all the time, and in Tokyo Ghoul his last manga he had the hero defect from Anteiku when he became too afraid that he lacked the strength to protect his friends. Tokio seems to suffer from a similiar fear of losing people. He even resolves to strike Zora down if the danger becomes too much and just ignore her prophecy.

Tokio has also already left once, leaving both Ely and Azuma without a word because he feels he'd become too dependent on them if he stayed. His growth was also jumpstarted when after the island arc he wasn't able to contribute a single thing in the battle because he wasn't strong enough. He could leave for a similiar reason, if Yamato Mori isn't enough to protect his friends he could try to go off on his own and work from the outside instead.

The last piece of evidence is that we still have Tokio's prophetic dream to worry about. Considering Tokio shares so many of Zora's powers, he might have even inherited some of her future seeing.

Tokio hasa dream of a ruined Yamato, and an Azuma who turns around to face him and declares that the disaster is all his fault. Tokio defecting / siding with Zora could start the chain of events which leads to this. In a version where Tokio defects, we could see an arc of Tokio joining with Zora, only for Azuma to hunt him down while working with Yamato Mori.

It still fits the general pattern I outlined before of their positive and negative charater arcs, if Azuma stayed with Yamato Mori he might become more like a blind servant to justice, hunting down Tokio no matter what the cost without listening to his friend. Especially if Tokio really is the cause of a disaster.

To mention Ishida's previous work again, Tokio shares a lot of parallels to Arima Kishou, to the point of even wearing glasses like him and having worsening eyesight. The fact that Arima for most of his life was a blind follower of the CCG is not a good thing and led to his tragic ending as a character. So Azuma's character could follow the same general pattern if he chooses to stay with Yamato Mori and hunt down Tokio after he defects.

There's plenty of evidence for either side of the argument, so we may just have to wait and see how it plays out. Considering it's Ishida though, it'll probably be painful when the boys finally do break up.

#azuma higashi #tokio kurohara #choujin x #choujin x meta #cx meta #choujin x theory #ishida sui #metasks

[exo-xexo]

Starflare

Author Note: Hello @dreamylittlesugarcube! I am your secret Santa this year! I hope you like this little story! (Also, if you would like me to write a little prequel for you, I totally wouldn't mind. This little note will hopefully make sense once you read the story). I really hope you enjoy it, happy holidays! @exols-silver-christmas

WC: 3,016

Characters: Do Kyungsoo, Reader

You don't really know what Kyungsoo has planned. He sent you a series of text messages last week and then went radio silent. You're mad at yourself that you didn't notice it had been a week since his previous message. Work had been crazy lately, especially with the end of the year just around the corner. You kicked off your shoes and entered your house. Today had been such a long day. The thought of food didn't even appeal to you right now as you dragged your feet across the carpet and collapsed on your couch. You draped your arm over your eyes; a nap sounded really good right now. Whatever Kyungsoo has planned can wait.

Just as you were about to fall asleep, a knock at your door caught your attention. Turning on your phone, you looked at the door confusedly to see if there was another knock.

Sure enough, another knock pounded on the other side of the wooden door. You live alone, and it's pretty late in the day. No one texted you that they were coming over, and you don't remember agreeing to have company over tonight. Dumbfounded, you stood up and quietly walked over to the door. Looking through the peephole, you sighed.

Kyungsoo is on the other side of the door.

Opening the door, you give him the best-annoyed expression you can manage.

"Are you ready to go?" Kyungsoo asked, ignoring your clear annoyance.

"Hello to you too, Do Kyungsoo. Where am I supposed to get ready to go?" You asked, leaning against the doorway. Now it's Kyungsoo's turn to be confused. He whipped out his phone and scrolled through it.

"Ah, what a shame. My message wasn't sent. Well, anyway, go back a bag." Kyungsoo let himself into your tiny home.

"Hang on, mysterious stranger. Why am I packing my back?" You closed the door behind him.

"We're going on a trip! I remembered that you said you have this next week off. So, I planned a fun trip for us." Kyungsoo kicked off his boots and walked over to the same spot you occupied on the couch. You watched as he made himself comfortable. You thought about his response for a moment. Kyungsoo's right; you do have this next week off. You weren't really planning on doing anything special. You might have cleaned a bit on your week off but didn't have your heart set on it.

You moved to your bedroom and grabbed a small suitcase. You started to pack it with enough clothes for the whole week. You weren't sure how long you would be gone since Kyungsoo was purposefully vague. It's colder than you like it to be, so you make sure to pack some warmer clothes. Since Kyungsoo said you two are going on a trip, you grab your food journal and put it in your little backpack. This food journal has a leather binding with a charming custom design on the front and back covers. It's the first present you ever got from Kyungsoo.

 The two of you bonded at a new restaurant in Seoul. The whole concept of the restaurant was to match you up with a stranger and have dinner with them. Before you went, you had no idea what you were getting into. Your friends had planned it all very well. They would ask you random questions throughout the month that had seemed random. They then put in a profile for you at this new restaurant. They told you that all of you were going out for a night out, and they had sent the cost to everyone in the group chat. You paid for it without worrying; honestly, you thought the five of you were going to a carnival or something. Without their intervention, you would never have given the restaurant a chance. The whole concept of being a blind date filtered by the restaurant just seemed so weird.

When you arrived at the restaurant, you were convinced your friends stood you up. However, they all showed up late. You weren't expecting to be separated from them as you were led to a different table. They had sat you down at a table with a piece of frosted glass between you and the other patron. At first, you didn't say anything. You just wanted to eat the food that you already paid for. This restaurant was costly.

When the first course came out, a filet with a small side of pea puree and ridiculously small dots of a red sauce, the man on the other side of the table began to criticize how the meat was cooked. When you cut into your steak, you notice the man was right. You then heard him laugh at the amount of sauce placed on your plates. After about three dishes that weren't up to his or your standards, you joined in with him. The two of you had a great time, and at the end of the night, the Chef came out to meet with everyone and ask about their experiences. When he got to you two, he held two bags. 

Apparently, the two of you had both been dragged to the restaurant by your friends, and the Chef was told that you two needed to find a common interest to bond over. The Chef gave you both bags that held the real dishes of the night to take home with you. The Chef had purposefully cooked poorly on your dishes to get you two to open up to each other. When the meal finally ended, all of you could stand up and meet the person you had dinner with face to face. The meal itself went so well that Kyungsoo asked for your number. You don't usually give your phone number to strange men, but that was the point of the whole dinner. So, you gave him your number. It only took a few days for him to call. When he did, he asked you to go to a normal restaurant on another date. After the way you two met, how could you turn down dinner at a normal restaurant?

It was an extraordinary experience that made the two of you become friends. Then, the two of you were hanging out together whenever you could, and today, apparently, that means you're going on a sudden trip. Once packed up, you rolled your little suitcase to the living room. When you walked back in, Kyungsoo wasn't paying attention to you, so you cleared your throat to get his attention. Kyungsoo stood up and grabbed your suitcase from you.

"Are you ready to head out?" Kyungsoo asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be, are you going to tell me where we're going?" You asked as you pulled on your shoes again.

"Nope, it'll be a surprise." Kyungsoo opened your front door and waited for you to follow him. You shut off the lights and locked the door behind you.

"Really? You're not going to tell me anything?" You asked. Kyungsoo shook his head stubbornly and put your little suitcase in the backseat of his car.

"Hop in and trust me a little, would you?" Kyungsoo closed the back door and got into the driver's seat. You stood outside the car momentarily; what's the worst thing that could happen? So, you hopped into the passenger seat.

"Alright, let's go have an adventure." Kyungsoo smiled at you and pulled off. You thought he might take you to the lovely hotel you like on the other side of Seoul. That thought soon changed when Kyungsoo got on the street to go to his house. Once there, he parked in his driveway and took out both suitcases.

"The secret place is your house?" Not that you're complaining; his home is pretty awesome. He's got his own wine room and a lovely kitchen set.

"No, my home is closer to the subway we need. We need to get over to the train station. Our train leaves in an hour." Kyungsoo locked up his car and started walking down the street to the subway entrance. Kyungsoo is lucky you trust him. An hour later, you ran to your departing train as fast as possible. Luckily, you got there on time.

"Alright, now that we're all settled in, why don't you rest your eyes? We'll be on here for almost two hours." Kyungsoo said as he settled in right beside you.

"Or you can tell me what we're doing? Or even where we're going?" You made yourself comfortable and looked at him.

"No can do! It's a surprise. I'm sure you'll get it once we get there." Kyungsoo pulled a book out of his backpack and flipped the pages open. You rolled your eyes and leaned against the window. A little nap wouldn't hurt anyone.

"Hey, we're at our first stop. It's time to wake up." Kyungsoo informed you quietly.

"Okay? Where is here?" You asked back quietly as you got reacquainted with the world.

"The train stop." You had to hold yourself back from smacking him. You decided to stop trying and follow his lead. You grabbed your backpacks and your little suitcases to head off the train.

"Thankfully, our destination is just ahead," Kyungsoo commented once you exited the streets.

"Yongin?" You looked around; it's been a while since you've visited Yongin. They have some fantastic restaurants here; you're delighted you grabbed your food journal for this trip.

"Yeah! Wait until you see where we're staying; you'll love it!" Kyungsoo smiled back at you as he grabbed your hand. The two of you looked around as you walked another five minutes from the train station.

"I wanted to come back here; I just couldn't find the time-" You cut yourself off as you noticed the hotel just down the road. It's a hotel with a fantastic restaurant inside.

"Let's go check into our room, and then we can head down for our reservation," Kyungsoo suggested as he moved forward. You pulled him to a stop.

"Kyungsoo, this hotel is costly. I can't even imagine what they charge for food here." Part of you wanted to scold Kyungsoo for spending money on the hotel, let alone going to the restaurant.

"It's okay. You don't have to worry too much. I saved up enough for both. This is a gift, so don't go planning on how to pay me back. This is your holiday, and it will be a great one." Kyungsoo pulled you closer to him and started walking both of you to the hotel.

Of course, the lobby is completely decked out for the holiday. The CEO spared no visible expense on the decorations. Kyungsoo went to talk to the hotel receptionist, and you decided to look around. It looked just like a hotel from the movies, with giant chandeliers hanging from the ceiling; the bulbs almost looked like they were in the shape of snowflakes. There's gold plating everywhere, from the buttons on the couches to the bottom of the walls. There was a massive fireplace in the middle of the room that didn't actually have a fire in it. Once you got closer, it became clear that it was one of those fancy televisions on top and then a heater on the bottom to create the illusion that there was actual fire.

Kyungsoo called your name and waved around the key to your room. He must be eager to get into the restaurant. Last you heard the waitlist was out for a couple of months. Your room matched the lobby in terms of coloring. Gold plating is all around the granite countertops and on the handles of the dressers. Complementary chocolate sat on both of your pillows. Curiously, you opened up the cabinet next to the small refrigerator. There's a small jar in the shape of a bear, and inside it are gummy bears. Since this is your holiday and it's supposed to be a great time, you're taking the gummy bears. Kyungsoo walked into the main room and looked at you curiously. You looked back at him and, without blinking, dropped the jar of gummy bears into your backpack.

"You know when you leave, you'll have to pay for those, right?" Kyungsoo asks. You laughed at him and shook your head. Walking straight up to him, you patted Kyungsoo on his lapel.

"No, Sir. You will pay for those when we leave because I am on holiday." You said with a smile. You could see the cogwheels turning in Kyungsoo's head before he caught on.

"Since it is your holiday, you can have the bear jar." He rolled his eyes at you. Kyungsoo quickly got into a fancier attire for dinner.

"I didn't bring anything fancy with me." You put your suitcase on the bed and look through your outfits to see if anything fits fancy.

"It doesn't matter what you wear because you'd outdress the whole restaurant in just your pajamas." The confidence Kyungsoo has in you astonishes you sometimes. Once he's in his suit, he comes out to help you pick an outfit. The two of you agreed on a nice black top and slacks.

"Okay, get dressed. We'll have to be on the elevator in ten minutes." Kyungsoo informed you while looking at his watch.

"It won't take me ten minutes to get ready." You hated the stereotype that it takes women forever to get dressed up. Sometimes you need the extra time, and sometimes you don't. It really depends on the occasion.

At least, that's what you thought. It took around ten minutes to put together the perfect look. You and Kyungsoo headed to the elevator, and he pressed the button labeled 'R' on the bottom. When the elevator opened again, you were in a dark hallway. The dark hallway opened to a beautiful room with lights on the ceiling that mimicked the stars in the sky. A hostess smiled at the two of you and greeted you happily.

"Welcome to 'Starflare'. Do you have a reservation with us, or would you like to make one?" Obviously, with how you two are dressed, you are here to eat. You also know she needs to ask anyway because sometimes people just show up when they're not supposed to.

"We are here for our reservation. It's under Do Kyungsoo," It didn't take the hostess to find his name. Then, you find yourself following her. She led you through the restaurant to a lovely table in the back. On the table was a centerpiece of Stargazer Lilies and a few white tulips to make the lilies pop.

"How did they know I like Lilies and Tulips?" You asked Kyungsoo as the two of you sat down.

"I have no idea. I heard this place is pretty magical, though. Maybe that has something to do with it?" Kyungsoo shrugged his shoulders with a smile. The hostess handed you some menus and promised to return with your drinks shortly.

"How did you get a reservation here? I thought they were months out?" You asked, putting the menu aside.

"They are I called a few months ago and placed the reservation." Kyungsoo also put the menu aside.

"I figured we could let the chef surprise us for dinner tonight; what do you think?" Kyungsoo asked and then thanked the hostess for coming back with your drinks.

"That sounds fun, let's do that." It would do your heart good to not look at the menu for too long. The waitress came by to collect the menus and take your order. She was pleasantly surprised to hear you wanted the Chef to decide your course for the night. If Kyungsoo trusts this Chef, then so do you.

"Brought me out here just to eat, huh?" You asked as you took a sip of your drink.

"Well, it is your holiday. I wanted to make it nice and relaxing. You can't be stressed while eating a good meal." Kyungsoo reached across the table to hold your hand.

Not long after, your first course was brought out. A filet with a small pea puree side and ridiculously small red sauce dots were on the plate in a particular 'fancy' pattern. You looked at the plate confusedly, then at Kyungsoo. On the other hand, Kyungsoo looked totally amused. The Chef came to the table after the food had been set down. It was the Chef from that strange blind date restaurant.

"Welcome! I thought you two might appreciate a call back to your first date at one of my restaurants." The Chef laughed as he patted Kyungsoo on the back.

"We'll eat this for now, but you better have some amazing stuff back there!" Kyungsoo stood up and shook the man's hand.

"You two won't know what hit you!" The Chef promised; he nodded at you and then turned away to return to the kitchen.

"Let's try some real food from this guy. I've heard he's a great matchmaker in the kitchen." Kyungsoo said as he sat down with a big smile on his face. Suddenly, the night became a lot more interesting.

"So, this is the trip?" You asked curiously.

"All week, you get to try some amazing dishes and put them in your journal, hopefully alongside some pictures to capture this wonderful holiday we're going to have." Kyungsoo sat up straight, obviously proud of himself. You look at the plate of mediocre food before you and then smile at Kyungsoo.

“This time the food will actually be good. I was promised by the Chef.” Kyungsoo informed with as he cut into his own steak.

"Ah, what the hell? It better get better than this." You joked as you cut into your steak. Just like the one from months before, it was a little overcooked. With Kyungsoo by your side, you're not worried. This will be an excellent and fulfilling week. Kyungsoo reached over to hold your hand as you began the first of many dishes. There’s nowhere you’d rather be with him, just like it started.

#exol secret santa #exols-silver-christmas #Merry Christmas! #Happy Holidays! #Do Kyungsoo #EXO

[riddles-and-diddles]

Pet Play

Authors note: I wanted to give yall the good shit needed for my absence, so take this shameless smut I wrote before group lmao, enjoy! Word count: 1,511 Content warnings: NSFW, NO MINORS, pet play, collars, piv, blowjob

The ground was cold with your knees on the rough carpet in his little hideout, more or so a sewer Edward had made to his liking (and yours,of course with some begging)l, a collar on your neck and the great Riddler above you, leash in his dominant hand. You had begged and pleaded with this man to do this, to be in total control over you for the longest time, it was finally done when you explained he had all the power over you. Oh how much being in control of you had done to him in a short period of time.     “Look at me, pet.” He demanded, yanking the leash in a small movement.     You looked up to him, the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen, how they only look the way they do when he has you beckon to his wants and needs, even with your needs did he love seeing them. He gently but firmly grabbed your chin, thumb stroking your chin as he spoke;

    “Oh, how pitiful you look right now, all for me?” He teased, soon the redness in your face was clear as day. 

    It was humiliating, shameful, just making your core throb for more of him. 

    “You know what to do, pet. Don’t half-ass either, I don’t wish to punish you by not stimulation, hm?” You eagerly nodded, hands immediately reaching for the multiple belts he had on.     He started to relax standing up, but he knew that you were such a well behaved pet of his. You didn’t need instructions, you knew what he wanted and how he wanted it. Oh how they made him want to ruin you, tear off the lingerie you were wearing.. Making his greased and oiled up hands want to ruin your perfect skin. 

    As lost in thought, he didn’t notice how quick of work you made to undress him. His belts were by his feet, pants already down enough to his thighs, boxers now only in the way/ You gently stroked your fingers down his thigh, letting your nails skim alittle in his skin to leave streaks, feeling his hair through them. You made quick work of the boxers, his cock springing to life as you felt drool slip through the corners of your mouth.     He was average at best, but his girth made it better for you, how thick and delicious he seemed to you. Your dominant hand began to stroke him gently, with such firmness he began to moan under his breath. As much as you wanted to tease him, deny him that pleasure, he was the one in control right as of now.     Quickly, you licked his shaft, all the way to the tip, the saltiness and musk just making you more wetter for you. You began to place his tip in your mouth, tongue swirling around it, taking in every taste. Slowly but surely, you kept adding more into your mouth, tongue still making good work, enough to make Edward hold his mouth closed as to not give you the pleasure to hear him. You had to earn it, and dammit that was going to be the plan for all of this. 

     You began to take more of him in your mouth, drool and saliva was already starting to hit the ground, a small puddle of shame in front of you.     “Is.. Is that all you.. Got, pet?” He said, hissing and groaning in his hand, his face was becoming sweaty, eyes dilated, cheeks a burning red.     You looked up at him with the prettiest eyes you could pull off, sucking him deeper in your warm mouth. Oh, god.     It wasn’t until he grabbed your hair and forced you off of him, a clear sign he was just ready to release.     You looked at him with pure confusion, until a simple demand was made;     “Stand up, and go to the desk, pet.” He demanded, as he pulled alittle to made you squeak and stand up all at once. 

    Nodding, you began the walk towards his desk as he pulled the leash, making you follow behind him. He yanked you close to him, his cock heating your stomach with the touch as he bent down to your ear to whisper,     “If you can get me off with all you got, maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you finish.” He said, soon licking your ear as you shuddered and moaned. He loved how sensitive you were to him, touching you just gently made you core sore and wet. 

    Nodded, you instantly got onto the desk, spreading your legs ever so slightly, but the evidence that what was happening was there; your juices dripping down your thick thighs, shaking from the slight cold in the sewers. Turning your head back, you saw him stroking himself, nails scraping his cock slightly.     He began to slip his tip around your hole, teasing you, but he knew he was so close already, and you barely even did anything to him. Holding your love handles in one hand, the other lining up to your entrance and cock throbbing, he nearly shoved it all in as you gasped and moaned so loud.     The beginning pace was nearly brutal, he slammed himself in you with no care, how his hands gripped your love handles with such force enough to leave marks. You became a mess; tongue sticking out and drool now pooled on his desk. He got close to your face, going in deeper and hitting your spot, he slipped his two fingers in your mouth. You began sucking on them like your life depended on it, tasting the metal and oil on them.     “Such a good pet, how.. How you can simply know.. How to treat me..” He mustered.     You could barely make a sentence, how close you got with each deep thrust from him. He kept the pace, only getting faster with how close he was, how close you became. Your walls clench his cock so well.     It didn’t take long for him to finish inside you, it seemed as if it was the perfect time as he felt your body shake, your moans coming out faster and faster, he could only stand up again and wrap the chain leash around your neck, not too harsh but enough to make you not breathe a little. That was enough for you to come to the action, your walls clenching his cock with all it has, as he began to feel his release come.     A low but audible groan could be heard as he slammed into you one more time, hand clenching your handles as he put everything into you.     It took a second for both of you to catch your breath, he immediately released the leash on your neck. He began to massage the small marks it left on you, kissing it gently. Edward was usually more.. Vulnerable after the act, his ego and narcissistic behavior ceased for just a second. You felt yourself melt by his touches, making a small happy noise as he slipped out of you, feeling his seed immediately come out of you and slip down your thigh. 

    “Good girl,” He praised, stroking your hair, he began to help you up, taking the collar off and giving you a kiss on the forehead.     “Did that satisfy your need, dear?” He asked, coming back to the ego now.     “Yes.. Alot, actually.” You admitted, soon felt the cold start to get to you now.     Edward noticed the shakes almost as if he could feel it for himself, quickly grabbing a nearby towel for you.     You began to wrap it around yourself. Soon glancing at Edward who immediately began to search for blueprints, ideas, almost as if the fun you two had shared was over.     He could notice the small pout you began, turning towards you as he sighed.     “I guess aftercare is needed, of course. Go up stairs and I’ll be with you in just a moment.” He said.     Nodding, you started to walk towards the small room the two of you shared, the door leading from an old electric center that he made it safe and easy for you and him to sleep there and well… Have fun of course. It was cozy for you, you never complained about it and he loved it.     Waiting for him, you put on your pajamas, and climbed into the bed. It took awhile for him to come up, but when he did you were fast asleep at this point. He had the urge to go back down stairs to work more, his plan for batman’s downfall had to be done soon.. But you looked adorable now. Your thighs looked soft with your stomach showing the small pudge he loved to kiss and put his head on. Oh, what the hell. 

    He changed into appropriate clothing, boots off and everything, and began to climb into the bed. Immediately felt your arms wrap around him, head scooting to his chest as he played with your hair gently, feeling sleep overcome him.

#💚ziggy💚 #the riddler #riddler #riddler x reader #arkham riddler #arkham riddler x reader #arkham knight #arkhamverse

[lenniershairlessredacted]

it makes my heart extremely heavy that the meaning of “processed food” has been so successfully diluted, mostly by people in authority, that many people now think “processed” means anything mixed, canned, pre-washed, packaged, pickled, cooked, or just touched by any human hand that wasn’t merely harvesting it. for the nutritionists and scientists and activists who initially tried to bring attention to negative consequences of--I guess they’re only being referred to as “ultra-processed foods” now--it wasn’t about some fucking moral purity culture thing where people’s individual food choices were a signal of their righteousness, it was about trying to get regulations and safeguards in place to stop megacorporations from selling fucking non-food to people as food. “processed” used to mean things that went through a manufacturing process more extreme than most of our kitchens can manage, to create “stable” isolates that perform certain culinary functions, with the mostly hand-waved side consequence that they can’t always actually be digested very well by our incredibly picky bodies*, like the hydrogenization process they used to use to make all margarines, which resulted in trans fats that are still killing around half a million people per year. it wasn’t about shaming people buying pre-cut vegetables or baking mixes, it was about trying to hold asses to fires to prevent talcum powder bread 2.0 from overtaking everyone’s grocery stores.

to be clear, I’m not trying to blame anyone using the word this way because that’s what they’ve genuinely been led to believe it always means, but fuck it’s depressing the way they’ve managed to so insidiously warp the discussion to confuse

*you can totally get nutrition from a bunch of glucose molecules if they’re holding hands like this ovovovo but not if they’re holding hands like this o^o^o^o, enzymes are so goddamn fussy

#was going to reply this on a post that used 'processed' this way but then realized it may come across... a little aggressive #nutrition #propaganda

[cienie-isengardu]

TBB: The Outpost

As a foreword, I want make it clear I watched overall only a few episodes (from the season two alone just the two-part premiere, the one with “Scorch” and Crosshair-centric “The Solitary Clone” and “The Outpost” solely to see how far Crosshair can be pushed before he kill any imperial [non-cloned] officer) so I may missing some serious context. Like why the Empire would demobilize it's one fully trained army (clones) so early in Palpatine’s regime since clones are still healthy and capable soldiers that obey orders (in contrast to the new recruit(s) from season one?) and serve without being paid. Unless this is again about the chip-in-brain nonsense that the show doesn’t seem to remember anymore?

Anyway, the two things that made me satisfied - and really this is the first TBB episode in S02 (and one of few in general) I would call great and interesting - are the visible change in Crosshair’s behavior and the shift in imperial army (and how the new cadre of officers differs from Vader).

The Mayday was the first clone that showed Crosshair any basic kindness - the scene of sharing the heater when they barely knew each other  contrasts drastically with how clones did not want to share the same table with him in the previous episode. And sure, Cody was nice to him too but Cody was already a comrade from the previous war while Meyday was a total stranger who did not blink at all at the mention of Crosshair being one of the Clone Forces 99. And Crosshair latched on this kindness? He said “no point in carrying deadweight” but then carried dying Mayday through the snow and even begged Nolan to save his companion. There are some really interesting changes happening in Crosshair in the face of casual and intentional abuse.

The other thing that nagged me through the whole episode is that Vader would do much better than Nolan. Although the situation was not 100% the same, he did better in Marvel comics when three heavily injured troopers were denied medical help by an officer who did not care to check tapes from the mission and acted solely on the fact that those men killed a sergeant (they did it to fulfill mission). And Vader killed the officer instead of the soldiers, because he acknowledged their loyalty and willingness to sacrifice everything for the mission.

Crosshair and Mayday did not retrieve stolen cargo but they eliminated the whole camp of the enemy and that in the grand scheme of things could prevent losing more equipment in the future so it wasn’t a total failure on their part. But Nolan did not even bother to ask what the clones achieved, doesn’t even care to hear rapport but judged them on the spot.

And when the Sith Lord is capable of showing care for common troopers but your average imperial officer can’t - doesn’t want - then you get a clear and horrible picture of the imperial army. What is also a great point about this show - those new officers have zero battle experiences, no real achievements to support their own authority and openly abuse their power over those serving under them. Abuse those without the right social and political position or origin and soon, with passing time, this corruption will be the norm. Because of it,  many capable soldiers will be shunned. Now it is clones, in future people born and raised in Outer Rim. And Vader is one of few high ranked Imperials who won’t care for people’s personal origin, family connection or even species, only for the skills.

Which is why I think the scene would play differently with Vader there (as in, he most likely would go himself to hunt down the enemy or maybe even break Nolan’s neck for wasting the good potential of loyal troopers. Shame Crosshair didn’t have a chance to join Vader’s 501st Legion, his life wouldn’t be so depressed lke it is now. 

#star wars #crosshair #darth vader #Lieutenant nolan #the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #really this is the one of episodes that i can say to like from TBB #poor mayday though #looking at nolan and similar to him officers gives a great contrast to vader and even tarkin - the veterans with an actual battle experience #i will give it to the show it nicely shows the change from clone army to imperial army #the new kind of officers who care more for their own gain than people serving under them

[finitefall]

That's bad writing. They're telling us for twenty years there's been animosity building enhanced by Aemond losing his eye, and then we see Vaemond Velaryon lose his head because he tried to claim Driftmark and called Rhaenyra's sons bastards, but they want us to believe that Alicent's reaction to this is “ooh let me hold hands with Rhaenyra and toast to her” and not further increase her fear ? And the fact that she exhorted Aegon that Rhaenyra will cut off anyone who challenges her inheritance to the throne and told him that his existence as a male heir is a challenge to Rhaenyra, that the entire realm knows in their bones that one day he will be king, but she's apparently done nothing to secure the crown for her son. The Green Council should've been Alicent talking about her fear for her children and grandchildren, how Aegon's and Aemond's existence as the king's trueborn sons is a threat to Rhaenyra, how Daemon is Rhaenyra's consort and considered too dangerous to be near the throne (a “second Maegor” as Otto put it), how Rhaenyra may fear her sons claim to the throne being challenged (as Luke's claim to Driftmark had already been challenged by Vaemond), as Rhaenyra does have a clear motive to want her siblings gone. These reasons are understandable and valid. Not YOU CAN'T KILL RHAENYRAAA ! (But I get it, they needed some cheap queerbait).

And seriously, are we supposed to believe Alicent suddenly cares about Rhaenyra ?? Since when ? This is the same Alicent that made her walk to her chambers immediately after giving birth spilling blood everywhere with placenta still hanging just so she could see the color of Joffrey’s hair. She did everything to undermine the authority of Rhaenyra, and her decision to spread damaging rumors about the legitimacy of her sons is very clearly a calculated political act of destruction that would result in exile or death for the children as well as Rhaenyra. To Alicent, Rhaenyra should be living in shame and feel shameful of her own children.

We're supposed to believe Alicent's reactions because of the whole tragic Rhaenicent love story they've been (and are still) trying to make us believe in. Mind you, nonnie, it does work with many who absolutely love Rhaenicent and are dead serious when they say they're in love.

The Green council after Viserys' death showed how much book!Alicent is important. She's the first one being told, and she's very clear about what she wants and what she thinks of Rhaenyra and her children. It's literally her big moment:

"King", insisted Queen Alicent. "The Iron Throne by rights must pass to His Grace's eldest trueborn son."

"Nor will they spare my children," she declared. "Aegon and his brothers are the king's trueborn sons, with a better claim to the throne than her brood of bastards. Daemon will find some pretext to put them all to death. Even Helaena and her little ones. One of these Strongs put out Aemond's eye, never forget. He was a boy, aye, but the boy is the father to the man, and bastards are monstruous by nature."

This is Alicent, a Queen who's been plotting with her father and supporters to put her son Aegon on the throne as soon as Viserys would die. A coherent, well-written character, not show!Alicent who's an incoherent mess.

About Alicent making Rhaenyra walk all the way to see her just after having given birth to Joff, you have Green stans saying she did no such thing since she only asked to see the baby. I'm sorry, Alicent was caring about Rhaenyra because she wanted her to just give her newborn son to anyone so someone else could show him to Alicent while Rhaenyra was resting? Yeah, that's totally what any mother would do, and I'm sure Green stans would have had so much more respect for Rhaenyra if she had done this...

#HOTD #anti alicent stans #anti show!alicent #anti rhaenicent #rhaenyra targaryen #answered