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#my weird musing at 2 am
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Katnappe vs the Russian language
I can't help but wonder what would be Ashley's reaction that in Russian there are 12 different expressions for the word 'cat'.
So, let's say it's the Spicer Squad alliance time. Ashley is that particular kind of member, who's always late for each meeting and leaves first. Every time the boys suggest she should stay and participate in team activities that don't revolve around stealing shen gong wu, she declines the offer.
However, one time she forgot her bag, so she came back to the room and overheard Jack, Tubbimura, and Vlad talking about cats. That caught her attention, so she kept on listening. The problem was, boys' speech was more similar to mumbling, so Ashley gave up and entered the room with a loud -
Ashley: What are you blabbering about, losers? About cats? Then me-ow I'm an expert so you can ask whatever you need to know.
Tubbimura: No, thanks. We're ranking the cat photos with the categories Vlad suggested.
Vlad, happily: I'm teaching them my mother tongue! Do you want to join us?
Ashley: Ew! I'll leave you to your stupid games, nerds. By the way, all the kitties are cute, so they shouldn't be compared!
Vlad: Well, we won't force you. Ok, Jack. Your turn. Tell me how do you say a sweet kitty?
Jack: Easy! It's котенька!
Vlad: Tubbimura, how do you say a kitten? Like a child of a cat?
Tubbimura: Is it котёнок? Hai?
Vlad: Correct! You're getting a hang of it, my friend! :D Jack. what's the plural form?
Jack: котята!
Ashley, staring and trying to comprehend what is going on: What? You told me there are two words for a male and female cat? Are there more?
Jack, ready to mess with her: Oh, my! A cat expert should know these kinds of things! It turns out you're not as smart as you thought!
Ashley: (hisses at Jack)
Vlad, trying to calm her down: Easy, guys! As my aunt says it's never too late to learn! So, sit down and let me explain.
Ashley: (does as he asks)
Vlad: Good. So, to answer your question - there is a kot for a male cat and кошка for a female cat. Are you with me?
Ashley, impatiently: Yeah!
Vlad: You have to believe me when I say we have different names for cats with particular features. For example, we have different words for a stray cat, silly cat, small cat, little lady cat, and so on!
Ashley, confused: ... Okay?? So, no adjectives only nouns?
Vlad: Да! :)
Ashley: That doesn't make any sense to me.
Jack: Geez Ashley it doesn't need to! Russian is an inflectional language, while English is not. That's why it's hard for us to apply these rules.
Ashley, even more confused: What!?
Vlad: (sighs) Then I know what I have to do.
Vlad shows the squad the following graphic:
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Ashley, after 5 minutes of examining it: What the actual fu-
Tubbimura, yelling at her: LANGUAGE!
Jack: Russian. That's the topic of that conversation for the past 10 minutes, Tubbi.
Tubbimura: Spicer. You're so lucky I left my sword in the other room.
Jack: :(
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sunnyvaler · 2 years
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wish i had that feelin like i really Belonged here u know
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narrativedoomed · 4 months
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that time of year again (obsessed w cl.ay jen.sen)
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suguru-getos · 7 months
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୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 18﹕✦﹕┈・୧
-> Event Masterlist
Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader -> Overstimulation
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Warnings: Overstimulation, cunnilingus, squirting, Bakugou being a soft yet commanding dom, nipple-play, fingering, breeding. Let me know if I missed anything please? Thank you!
Summary: The perfect way to unwind after work with Katsuki is to share the solace of a perfect dinner, followed by a perfect fuck fest. :3
The recent days in the Bakugou household had been weird, you were busy and so was your husband. You had recently decided to step out of being a Pro hero. It was a big decision and you were thankful that Katsuki was there, understanding your emotions, understanding what you’re going through and soothing you with it all the way.
With the judgemental hero society and the fact that you’d never be able to come home one of these days— your dream of having a family, taking care of a family & being a mother, a wife, a partner. It was all fleeting away, your determination and priorities shifting from protecting the people of Japan to now, protecting the house. Even so, you can’t help but pout when Katsuki comes home at odd hours, it’s been a week or so that you two got to spend some time together. Katsuki was yearning! So were you, for the matter.
Katsuki (2:17 pm): Hey princess
You: (3:00 pm): Oh hey there Suki
Katsuki (3:01 pm): Coming home early today, missing you too bad. Gonna prepare dinner & wait for you.
The text made you beam with joy, fuck! You missed Katsuki’s cooking & Katsuki spoiling you. All he’s done is been your sugar daddy, you wanted— needed some quality time with him.
You (3:02 pm): OH OFCCC!!!!
The rest of the day went by in a haze, Bakugou’s bulls eye was to reach home on time, to spoil his wife. “Kiri handle the patrol for me will ya?” He mumbled, finishing the paperwork & the approvals with the signatures needed for the recent Ad campaigns his PR team has bagged him for.
“Ah man, gonna spoil Y/N?” Kiri smirked, “How cute, it’s been a while since all of us hung out together you know?” Kiri emphasised, which made Katsuki irritated. He just wanted to leave his agency premises right now. “Yeh, patrol. Don’t forget.” With that, he left. Katsuki has changed being a 27 year old Pro hero who is seasoned with the elixir of how to behave and also the self awareness of how to talk. The frequent outbursts weren’t there, however— the fire in his personality still blazed threateningly.
When Bakugou reached home, he was all set to prepare things for his lady love. Stove blazing, his culinary skills all out with every intention of showing off. He ordered your favorite flowers, loads of them— enough to magically decorate the house, your favorite scented candles & by the time you reached home. (Around 8), you were greeted with a different sight altogether.
“Oh my god!” You whined, while Bakugou opened the door and kissed your forehead. “Welcome home Princess, don’t want y’ to forget how amazing I am.” He winked, laced with his sassy, adoring signature grin as he guided you towards your shared bedroom.
“Go freshen up f’ me sweetheart. I’ve kept the dress I wan’ y’ to wear & want to see you in it kay?” You nodded blindingly, too enamoured by the preparations & the efforts Katsuki has done for you.
When you returned, the dinner was set properly, there were foods intermingled from Wasabi dipped sushi, Katsudon, some sweet mochi. Everything that you liked— or might like. The dinner was sweet, Bakugou let you unwind with some expensive roseé, listening to your babbling about what happened at work intently.
Before you knew it, you were being carried princess-style to the bedroom. Both you and Katsuki a little tipsy & you absolutely drowning in the warmth of his scent, in the comfort of his arms. “Let me unwrap my little present, yeah?” Bakugou hums, smiling tenderly and softly at you as he removes your dress off, leaving you in black lacey underwear.
“God damn, Princess.” he mused, licking his lip. “You look so fuckin’ gorgeous I feel like I’d lose my fuckin’ mind.” He smirks, leaning in and taking your panties off, gawking at your soaked pussy & your throbbing clit.
“Were thinking about being loved as much as me thinking about lovin’ you?” Katsuki hummed, not waiting for an answer and leaning in against your inviting folds, a soft groan escaping his parted lips, the moment he wrapped his lips around your needy clit. Thighs spread apart, and your legs falling over his shoulders. “You sound so cute moanin’ for me like that.” Katsuki smirks, gnawing at your clit and licking it over to soothe the irritation.
You were deliciously close to the edge, mouth agape, hands pulling at his hair closer & pussy clamping all up and all for him.
“Shit- mmgh- Katsuki, gonna—”
“Cum for me Princess, let me fuckin’ taste that sloppy cunt.” Your man daunted, the reverberations in his voice pushing you off the edge immediately. “Shit- hng.” Your body spasmed around his tongue, creaming all over him, meanwhile— Katsuki didn’t want to stop. It’s been a while since he’s away from his girl, he wants you, bad.
Your pleasure laced moans turned into gasps and whines, when your overstimulated clit found itself against Katsuki’s relentless thumb, “Give me another, yeah?” he croons, however it makes you feel that you don’t have any option but to— which is exactly what Katsuki wanted.
Leaning in and licking up your juices one last time, his thick, and long fingers found their way to your pussy. “Gonna make you squirt this time.” Katsuki smirked, leaning in and kissing your pelvis as two of his fingers nestled against your folds, curling upwards & against your G-spot.
A lewd moan escapes you when your body registers the pleasure on your clit and your G-spot at the same time.
“Oh my god—” You croak, clamping once again after Katsuki found the perfect rhythm to play with your sloppy pussy. He loved watching you whine and whimper when he goes on at your cunt until you cry.
“Gonna cum again sweetheart?” Katsuki cooed, watching your face contort with pleasure & smirking along. “Yes she will, yes she will.” he hums when he finds you speechless, drowning in pleasure with no escape.
Another, harsh and unforgiving orgasm rakes through you, and as promised, your body ended up complying to Katsuki, you ended up squirting your essence all over, screaming at the shattering waves of pleasure.
“Yeah, yeah baby, just like that.” Katsuki rode out your orgasm, not stopping when he finally unzipped himself, thrusting his cock balls deep in your twitching cunt. “Argh- fuck, so snug & tight.” He lewdly comments, not giving you any time to adjust and railing onto your sweet pussy. “Going to cum for me again, mhm?” He smirked, watching you try to push him away when his thumb finds it’s way back to your clit.
“Awh, don’t be a bad girl Princess.” He chided you gently, leaning in and swallowing your nipple, suckling on it and thrusting deep inside you. Tears glossed into your eyes at the threatening pleasure intermingled deliciously with the pain of overstimulation. The pain of feeling your senses on fire.
“Shit- I- I feel like- m’ close.” You gritted your teeth when Katsuki pulled the hood of your nerves, rubbing onto your now exposed bundle & watching you whine & squirm away to no avail.
“Go on, let your pussy massage daddy’s cock until he cums.” Katsuki leaned in, kissing you passionately and eating away all your moans when you finally, tipped off the edge again. Your overworked pussy spasming around him, clamping around him until ropes of his warm seed fill you up.
“Fuck- good- fuckin’ girl.” Katsuki groaned, stilling inside you, eyes softening when his senses complain to him about how far you’re gone. “Let it go Princess, gonna take care of you now. Leave it to me, yeah? Leave it to your Katsuki.”
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billiewena · 2 years
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TWO YEARS SINCE NOV 5TH, 2020 as summed up by Supernatural (sequel to this)
⤷ bonus
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image ID & context below:
[image ID: screenshots of Supernatural paired with screenshots of various tweets, news headlines and Tumblr posts.
1. Castiel coming out of a closet in SPN 12x08 with screenshots of articles and videos called “Supernatural’s Misha Collins Appears to Come Out as Bisexual,” “Supernatural star Misha Collins appears to come out as Bisexual in the Best Way”, “Misha Collins Comes Out as Bisexual Footage”
2. Kevin Tran in SPN 8x01 saying “You know I’m not gay, right?” With screenshots of articles that read “Supernatural’s Misha Collins Apologizes for ‘Misspeaking’ After Appearing to Come Out As Bisexual,” “Misha Collins Is Getting Clowned About Being Bisexual Then Coming Out As Straight,” and a tweet by Misha Collins that reads, “This was not my intention so I need to correct the record: I am not bisexual. I happen to be straight, but I am also a fierce ally and the last thing I want to do is falsely co-opt the struggles of the LGBTQIA+ community 3/5”
3. Castiel telling a waitress in SPN 14x15, “And between various, steamy, erotic musings” with a screenshot of musician Perfume Genius tweet linking to the article “I have had sex with every actor from the TV show Supernatural” with the caption “I have had sex with every actor from the TV Supernatural. What follows is an account of each erotic event followed by a letter grade.”
4. Dean in SPN 10x10 saying, “And it ain’t gonna cost me a dime” with a screenshot of a tweet from @DiscussingFilm that says, “Nextstar will acquire 75% of The CW for $0. Instead, Nester will assume a significant portion of The CW’s current losses, which could exceed $100M.”
5. Dean in SPN 3x11 saying, “Come on. You love this song and you know it” with a screenshot of spnamvarchive and the 77 total videos in the #honeypie tag. There is also a screenshot of a text post by user iloveyoucas that says “OOH GIRL DONT YOU STOP DONT YOU STOP TIL YOU GET ENOUGH HONEY OH HONEY HONEYPIE HONEY HONEY HONEYPIE OOH GIRL DONT YOU STOP DON’T YOU STOP TIL YOU GET ENOUGH HONEY OH HONEY HONEYPIE HONEY HONEY HONEYPIE” with a gif of people dancing and a screenshot of a Honeypie AMV of Dean Winchester by afeelingsoweet.
6. Lilith in SPN 15x05 saying, “and his very weird, very perv-y obsession with you” with a headline that reads, “Jensen Ackles on his naked Soldier Boy intro on The Boys: ’Nothing on but a sock.”
7. Castiel in SPN 12x18 as he listens to a man say, “You know…like the Queen of England” with a screenshot of a post by whyissupernaturaltrending that says “Sept 8, 2022 - Supernatural trends because the Queen died” with a screenshot of Supernatural trending #1 on Tumblr.
8. Marie in SPN 10x05 saying, “But this is transformative fiction” with headlines that read: “Supernatural Prequel ‘The Winchesters’ Starts on The CW,” “The CW’s The Winchesters is a prequel to ‘Supernatural’”, “Jensen Ackles and The Winchesters Team Promise to carry on the Supernatural Legacy: ‘Trust us.”
9. Dean in SPN 10x05 responding to Marie saying, “You mean fan fiction” with headlines that read: “The Winchesters is a Soulless, Bland Attempt at Recapturing the Supernatural Magic”, “The Winchesters: 8 Biggest Retcons From Supernatural,” “Supernatural’s Spinoff Prequel ‘The Winchesters’ Offers Familiar Pleasures but Struggles building Its Own World: TV Review”
10. Dean in SPN 14x13 saying, “They always talk too much" with a tweet by nuttyforackles recapping a conventional panel that reads, “I should have said I love you too and hugged Cas… people will sexualize that but it’d doesn’t have to be, we were brothers in arms” - Jensen Ackles #spncon #vancon
Bonus: Lucifer talking to Dean in SPN 5x03, saying “Whatever you do, you will always end up here” with the Tumblr logo edited over Lucifer’s head.
/end ID]
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agroteraa · 4 months
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Artemis
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Oliver Quick x f!Reader
My fic masterlist
Part 2.
Part 1: Actaeon
Part 3.1: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.1)
Part 3.2: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.2)
Warnings: smut, oral, handjob, penetration sex.
Word Count: 5,5K
After the events of the last night, you didn't join in watching TV with the Cattons and Oliver. No, you weren't tired, but you were overwhelmed with emotions and all that had happened. Besides, you couldn't imagine how you could just go and watch telly with Oliver after that. It would be too embarrassing to pretend that nothing had happened, and you didn't think he'd be able to keep his face either.
So, you just went to your bed, tossing and turning for most of the night, thinking about what scenes in the bathroom. It felt like Oliver's hands were still ghostly wandering all over your body...
You came to breakfast very sleepy and visibly a little lost. It was a beautiful and sunny morning, and all Saltburn habitants were sitting at a table outside and eating various treats.
"Good morning, everyone!" you said, not being able to hold back a yawn.
"Good morning, sweetheart!" Elspeth replied, looking at you worriedly, "Is everything alright?"
Felix echoed his mother's look, slightly raising his eyebrows in concern. The others were busy with their own conversations, and only Oliver silently cast a brief glance at you, returning to eating his full English breakfast.
"Yes, it's okay, I'm just... I couldn't fall sleep for a while."
"Okay," Elspeth nodded, satisfied with your rather innocuous answer.
When you took a seat at the table opposite Oliver, you couldn't look into his eyes, your stomach was twisting, not from the hunger, but from the excitement. You didn't feel like eating at all. Duncan brought you eggs cooked in your favorite way, you nodded gratefully to him, but you were in no hurry to eat. Oliver noticed it.
"Is something wrong?" he asked innocently, looking up at you.
"Um, I'm just... I don't know, I guess I'm just not hungry right now."
"Hmm. Well, but I am. I've been hungry since last night. Very much," he chuckled, returning to his meal with appetite.
You gulped. It seems that he didn't mean breakfast at all now?
That had how your morning went, and then you went about your own business. Oliver, Felix, Farleigh and Venetia went to play tennis. You dismissed the game, and even more so there were exactly four of them. Instead, you went for a walk in gardens of Saltburn, read a book in a shady gazebo and muse upon the evening ahead. So, the evening had finally come, forcing the hot sun to forget about itself until the next day.
You thought and decided to politely decline the dinner. To be honest, you were feeling sick with excitement, and you definitely wouldn't be able to eat anything at dinner, especially if Oliver would be looking at you. It was better to seem a little weird now than to get a bunch of unwanted questions later.
Instead, you decided to stay in your room, citing a slight indisposition. You really had it, though, for a different reason. You lied down on the bed and began to remember the last night. His touch, his breathing, his piercing blue eyes that turned dark with desire at that moment... a desire for you.
It was hard to even believe it, but it seemed that was it. Your breathing got heavy when you started running your fingers over your lips, feeling your hot breath on your fingers, because you imagined that it were Oliver's fingers...
... ohh. You definitely needed to do something about it tonight.
* * *
"Where have everyone gone? I've been looking for y’all for half an hour," you said, finding Oliver in the library, who was comfortably settled in an armchair and reading a book.
"They're playing Uno. It seems that Felix and Farleigh will quarrel even more than yesterday over the remote control, and Venetia is also with them."
"Why aren't you with them too?"
"I'm not a fan of these kinds of games," Oliver explained with an emphasis on "these" not even looking up from his book.
"Mm, yes, about Venetia. Although she is not giving concerts in the bathroom tonight, but now there is only cold water running, apparently there is also some kind of heating malfunction, and the second bathroom still has not yet been repaired..."
At this point, Oliver looked up at you, his eyes narrowed slightly.
"Oh, really?"
"Mhm..." you confirmed, biting your lip.
He looked at you searchingly, tilting his head slightly to the side. Then, with a rising smile, he replied to you, "Of course. Enjoy yourself," and returned to reading his book. That was it, there was no further reaction or words from Oliver.
"F-fine." That was it? For some reason, you hoped that he would somehow hint that he would also join you, or at least react livelier to your words. But you had no choice but to go back to your room, get a bathrobe and go to that bathroom. You didn't bring a towel. Okay, Oliver, if you wanted to play ignore, we could arrange that.
Going into the bathroom of Oliver and Felix, you began to fill the tub. The room greeted you again with a pleasant dim lighting and the hum of water flowing down. His incomprehensible indifference throughout the day had upset you and even slightly angered you. Therefore, this time you had already put things on Felix's half on purpose and took his towels, no matter what Oliver had asked you to do.
After a while, you sank into the pleasantly hot water and began to wait. More precisely, at first you were really relaxing, but with every passing minute you were rather waiting for Oliver more than enjoying the process. But he did not come.
"Damn," you swore inwardly, and just as you were starting to think about getting out of the bath and getting ready, Oliver walked into the room.
"Hello!-" you started.
"Hi," he replied shortly and walked into his room, hardly looking at you. What?
You changed your mind about getting out of the bathtub right now and decided to sit in it until something would happen. About 5 minutes later Oliver came out, dressed in a domestic white tank top and stiped blue boxers. Your stomach turned over from this intimacy of his outfit. He went to his bathroom table, turned the water on and, as if nothing had happened, began to brush his teeth. He didn't start a conversation with you.
"So, uh, how was your day?" you began hesitantly, turning your head towards him.
"We played tennis, then took a dip in the pool, and then I enjoyed reading in the evening. Well, you’ve seen it."
"Yeah, that’s great..."
"And how was yours?"
"Not like... how I thought it would pass. I think I feel weird..."
"It must be because you didn't sleep well today. Go to bed early, yeah?"
"Huh? Yeah, I guess..."
You were a little lost. You looked at Oliver from behind, but he didn't turn to you. Of course, he was looking at you in the mirror again. He was a little on edge right now. This evening was not going quite the way he had imagined, but it was even intriguing.
The thing was that he had decided not to do anything with the second bathroom today. He overheard a conversation that the first bathroom had not been repaired again today, as the workers had confused the date and would arrive only tomorrow. So, it was even interesting for him to put it in the hands of fate. Would Venetia take over the only left bathroom again? Or would you just come in and innocently, hiding your gaze, ask Felix again or even Oliver himself if you could use their the bathroom again. Or maybe you would silently, struggling with your shame and desire, come to their bathroom and use it, hoping that something similar to the previous time would happen? Oh, he would definitely make your desires, which you were still afraid to admit to yourself, come true.
But no. You came to him and lied to him about the second bathroom, looking straight into his eyes.
"So, Y/N, do you want to remain innocent, but at the same time you know how to lie in your favor? It's interesting. You're beautiful and you did take a sacred bath, and now you really think you can be Artemis in every sense? No, no, no. No. Dear, there can only be one hunter here, and that's me," Oliver thought to himself, "And if you want to play on my field, well, I'll show you how it’s done."
With these thoughts, Oliver bit his lip contentedly, continuing to read the book while you left the library, but his thoughts drifted further and further away from the subject of reading.
At first, he wanted to nonchalantly go into the bathroom and, while he was brushing his teeth, catch your glances with his skin, hear your rapid breathing and catch the sounds of your feet fidgeting in the water. Then, having played enough with this longing, he would help you get out of the bathroom, wipe your beautiful naked hot body with his towel, hold your hands and take you to his room, where he would give you all the pleasure you would wish for. And this time he would have taken everything he wanted from you, enjoying you at its fullest.
But no.
You left your stuff on Felix's side. You took his towels. He told you not to do that.
His teeth almost bit his toothbrush in half when he saw it through the mirror. Was it an act of defiance, a way to attract extra attention, or a way to cause jealousy? Y/N, don't be a fool. But he hated to admit it, that some kind of jealousy had appeared in him anyway, and he was mad about it. No, don't you even dare to think that way. You were his, you would be only his.
The mood for a slow and sensual night has evaporated completely. Right now, Oliver could only bend you over and fuck you properly. Yes, that would be sweet too. But still, he didn't want to ruin everything and start your relationship like this. He'd better go to bed now, and tomorrow he’d know better.
"So, I'm going to bed, too. Good night, Y/N," Oliver said calmly, clutching the toothbrush in his hands with all his might, making it almost break it a second time.
You were left alone in the bathroom. What had happened? Were you too persistent, and Oliver was upset by your persistence? Or was he really that angry about your stuff left on Felix's table? It also occurred to you that he somehow intuitively felt and was upset about your lies, but of course he couldn't know that. But you still felt somehow guilty.
After getting out of the bathtub and draining the water, you dried yourself with a towel and, putting on your bathrobe, leaned your hands on the sink on Felix's side. You looked in the mirror and thought what should you do. No, you couldn't just walk away, there was too much left unsaid.
*Knock-knock*
"Oliver!"
The door opened a crack, in front of you there was Quick looking out of the darkness with his bright blue eyes. He took off his tank top and wore boxers only. You involuntarily looked at his beautiful torso, on which was nothing on but one chain, glittering on the neck. You gulped.
"Yes?" he asked in a low, hoarse voice.
"Can we talk?" this time it was you who walked into his room without waiting for an invitation or even more so a refusal.
You stepped into his dark, moonlit room. He stood a few inches away and silently looked you up and down. You continued, "You've been acting kind of weird all day, I'm sorry if this is me who..."
"Sorry" was enough for his pride and patience right now.
He silently pulled you to him, kissing you. You were very surprised, but you gave yourself up to this kiss with joy. Oliver kissed you passionately and long, then he took your hand and pulled you towards his bed. He carefully loosened the belt of your robe, admiring you from head to toe. Then he gently but abruptly threw you onto the bed and fell on top of you, leaning on his elbows and knees. Quick started kissing your neck, leaving hot prints of his lips on it, then he kissed your collarbone, then the place between your breasts. You started hugging him harder. Oliver continued his way down, kissing the place under your breasts and then slid his tongue over your stomach all the way to the bottom. You exhaled loudly, moving one hand to his soft hair on his head and squeezing it slightly.
He breathed out contentedly, and you could feel his smile on your skin. Then he cast a brief lustful glance at you, and went down even lower, to the most desired place. He kissed your inner thigh and then placed his lips on your folds. You felt his hot breath for a few seconds, as if he was enjoying this moment and didn't believe in it himself. Those few seconds seemed like an eternity to you, until he ran his tongue over your folds. You were already wet, so wet.
The tip of his tongue began to slowly glide up and down into the sensitive flesh all across your pussy, you left a sharp gasp. It was almost an electric feeling. Then he buried his mouth into you and started to run circles inside you with his wet and hot tongue. You began to moan softly while twitching your legs a little.
His hands were gripping your thighs, pulling your body even closer to his mouth. You buried both of your hands into his dark hair, letting a deep moan. Oliver was massaging your flesh from the inside, he was eating you out, almost humming to himself. Then he returned to caress your sensitive clit. You arched your back and you let out whine, burying hands deeper into his soft locks, almost tugging them. He let out satisfied pant and you looked down at him.
Gosh, he looked absolutely breathtaking, giving you a glare back with his piercing blue eyes on a half-seen face between your legs. And all this was happening in his moonlit room, like in some dark fairytale. It gave you a jolt of pleasure to the point you almost came.
He accelerated his pace and pressure until you tilted back your head and let out a long moan. You began to buck your hips but his hands were holding you firmly it almost hurt. His tongue got sloppy and messy as he feverishly caressed you. You couldn’t hold it back anymore.
“Oliver!..” you cried out his name, clenching his head with your legs, his strong hands released the grip.
He raised his head with lips and chin glistening in the dark, panting and smiling. He was looking at your bliss, the result of his work, with indescribable delight. Oliver looked absolutely stunning that way, being covered in your bliss that he gave to you. You had almost come for the second time at that view.
"I'm very glad that you liked it. And now," he leaned up to kiss you briefly on the lips, "It's time to go to bed. Sweet dreams, Y/N, tomorrow will definitely be a better day."
You were surprised that he wanted to end it, but you were barely thinking and were still beside yourself with bliss, so, as if in a fog, you pulled on your bathrobe, nodded to Oliver and left on fast but wobbly legs. It was like you were bewitched and you didn't do it all yourself, but at someone's behest.
Oliver smiled contentedly, falling back onto the bed.
"Sorry" was enough for his pride and patience, but not to the point where he could completely control himself and not break into a rage that would just tear you apart if he met his desires utterly.
Thus, tonight it would be his hand again, but this was definitely for the last time. Tomorrow he would be counting on your hands and not only on them.
* * *
Tomorrow was definitely a better day. Your appetite had returned, Oliver secretly was moving to you plates with pastries and fruits. You smiled and happily ate everything he offered.
But what happened in the last few nights seemed to remain only there. During the day, there was some kind of different, still a little tense atmosphere. Except that the ambiguity was replaced by a more agitated expectation and intrigue. It was still difficult for both of you to do small talks when the pictures of previous nights were so vivid in your heads.
Tonight was going to be a busy night, because James and Elspeth's friends, numerous Henrys and their wives, came to Saltburn. You also knew many of them, so you spent the whole evening in lively conversations with the exchange of news over the past year, endlessly promising to send greetings to your parents. Oliver seemed to be a little lost, especially at dinner, but you were seated quite far from each other, so even if you decided to talk to him, you couldn't do it. But you nodded at him from the other end of the table, lighting up the whole evening with your smile. He felt much less alone from that moment onwards.
The dinner was sumptuous, and numerous flowers and candles rested on the dark mirrored table, the candlelight danced beautifully on the faces of wining and dining guests. You stole a glance at Oliver - God, how handsome he was in this evening tuxedo, did he know that? You had a growing desire to get alone with him, but you had absolutely no idea how you could do it unnoticeably, and generally... take the initiative. You wouldn’t go to his bathroom for the third time, would you?
The evening was followed by a karaoke night led by DJ Farleigh. Everyone was having fun, singing along and clapping each other, it didn't matter if someone sang noticeably badly or really very well. Although “uncle” Henry's performance to the song “Low" was already too much, especially at the moment when you almost got smashed by his thrown jacket.
"Good Lord, give me strength," you thought, and then changed your prayer, turning your head to the side at Henry's wife, who eventually got his jacket right in her face, "Although no, please better give this woman strength."
Felix had been gallantly pouring you wine half the evening, asking how your mood was, and made funny comments about the guests. Then Venetia came, you also had a drink with her and a lively talk, and then she and her brother went to stand in a corner while smoking cigarettes, hilariously dancing to karaoke songs. Elspeth walked and chatted charmingly with the guests, and James sometimes eagerly but out of pace clapped to the rhythm of modern dance floor hits with often dubious lyrics.
Oliver was sitting on the opposite couch almost all this time, drinking some kind of tropical long. You didn't talk to him much during karaoke, but the conversation with his eyes was more than enough. His expressive orbs alternated between looking at you and following your rolling gaze as you watched another Henry who was making another drunken joke. And then his eyes started to burn a hole in you more and more, but he still remained silent and did not approach. Okay. In a different state, you may had started overthinking it or getting upset again, but not now. Now you were drunk enough to perform some karaoke hit and tell him everything with it. Well, telling something, at least.
"Farleigh!" you shouted, pointing at him.
"Yes!" he poked his finger at you in response, holding the microphone.
"Toxic" by Britney Spears!" you said, calling out a few "o-o-o-ohs" from the audience.
"Great!" the DJ of the evening grinned, putting the right song and giving the microphone to you.
The familiar sounds of a sampled violin came in, and then your voice followed:
Baby, can't you see I'm calling?
A guy like you should wear a warning
It's dangerous, I'm falling
There's no escape, I can't wait
I need a hit, baby, give me it
You're dangerous, I'm loving it
You sang, turning to Oliver and looking into his eyes. He sucked his cocktail out of a straw and then put it on the floor without breaking eye contact with you.
Too high, can't come down
Losing my head, spinning 'round and 'round
Do you feel me now?
He was sitting on the couch in his smart black tux, leaning back slightly and spreading his legs wide. Oliver was listening to you so attentively, as if this was not a Britney song, but some kind of revelation addressed only for him to comprehend.
With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride
You're toxic, I'm slipping under
With a taste of a poison paradise
I'm addicted to you
Don't you know that you're toxic?
And I love what you do
Don't you know that you're toxic?
He grinned at you. You started swinging your hips slightly while you were singing. Oliver licked his lips lightly.
It's getting late to give you up
I took a sip from my devil's cup
Slowly, it's taking over me
What a confession. Or was it a call?
You kept singing while everyone else supported you and sang along too. Farleigh danced to the beat of the music, and Felix and Venetia just had a separate party in the corner of the room, as if they were really at a Britney concert, and not karaoke party, where their friend finally decided to sing, being a little drunk. Elspeth and James, somehow in an old-fashioned, but a very sweet way danced sitting on the couch. All this support from the Cattons was especially pleasant and inspired me to sing the song even more boldly!
Intoxicate me now with your loving now
I think I'm ready now (I think I'm ready now)
Intoxicate me now with your loving now
I think I'm ready now
Yes, it was definitely a call. Oliver shifted on the couch, outwardly remaining calm, but deep inside he just had a storm of emotions and desires.
Artemis was luring her Actaeon again.
The living room burst with applause and cheering. It was not that you sang better than the original, but still, this song had already become an everyone’s favourite hit, which could not be disliked in any case. And you sang charismatically, not to mention your body movements. You scored 100 points! And to Oliver it was all 200.
You chatted for a while with Felix and Venetia and one of the Henrys, who jumped up to you, drank more wine after such brave karaoke performance, and then sneaked out of the room, realizing that you urgently need to use the restroom. Your head was a little dizzy, but you got to that very bathroom of yours which actually worked fine. Having done all the necessary things, you began to wash your face and stood for a long time at the sink with the faucet open, gradually coming to your senses. Ugh, you shouldn’t drink like that, otherwise it won't be clear if you can remember the rest of the evening. And you really wanted the most interesting things to be just ahead.
"Oliver!"
He was standing against the wall opposite the bathroom exit.
"How did you know that you... that I... that I would go here and not, say, to your bathroom again?"
"Very simply, Y/N. You're drunk right now, and thus, you will most likely reach the place that you are most familiar with. Like on an autopilot. I decided that you use your bathroom more often than mine."
You thought about it. Indeed, everything was so simple when he explained it. He must be much more sober.
It was a good thing you left before Farleigh decided to make Oliver sing karaoke. It was unexpected and humiliating, very humiliating, but he turned the situation in his favor by handing the microphone back to Farleigh at the most ambiguous moment of the song. Soon it would be Farleigh paying his own "Rent". Fortunately, no one read this subtext except the two of them. Oliver wasn't worried much about that right now, he had more important things to do tonight, so he went looking for you, fortunately, it wasn't difficult at all.
"So, you sing," he stated, pulling away from the wall and leisurely approached you.
"Not really, more like when I have a little drink, huh..."
"Are you feeling better now, Y/N?"
"Yes, much better, thank you," you said, still musing, "And also I sing when there is a good reason for it"
Oliver came close to you, and leaning into your ear, asked, "Am I a good enough reason?"
You looked into his eyes, "What do you think..." and reached out to kiss him. The taste of your wine mixed with the taste of his sweet strong cocktails. "It seems he drank more than I thought after all, how is he holding up so well?" you wondered, but soon you lost the thread of thought when his tongue, even more saturated with alcohol, penetrated your mouth.
With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride
You're toxic, I'm slipping under
With a taste of a poison paradise
I'm addicted to you
Don't you know that you're toxic?
Those lines from the song started spinning in your head again while your tongues were spinning in their own dance. You started to lose the feeling of the ground under your feet, but Oliver held you tight. But you still got to lean more on his sturdy body under that beautiful black and white suit.
Then, barely interrupting your kisses, you moved into your bedroom. It was lit by the moonlight, just like Oliver's bedroom last night. He began to take off your dress, gently kissing your shoulder. Then, you helped him undo your bra and stepped out of the shoes. At this time, he was taking off his tux without taking his eyes off you. He looked at you ecstatically from head to toe.
"Beautiful, so beautiful. Did I tell you that already?"
You nodded, smiling.
"I'll say it again. You're so fuckin’ beautiful," Oliver said with his deep sexy accent.
At these words, you became completely aroused and let out an inaudible moan, as he threw you on the bed, just like yesterday. After kissing you on the lips, he immediately went down on you, caressing your most sensitive part with his tongue and squeezing your hips harder than before. You shifted on the bed, entangling with his soft dark locks, and began to moan softly.
Oliver himself was also damn attractive, to say the least. His strong, slender stripped body covered yours, and only the chain was dangling on his neck. For some reason, this detail turned you on especially hard. Finally, you saw him completely naked, not just a couple of times in the tall grass, but right in your bedroom, when he was pressing you to the bed, towering over you. What a view.
His tongue was flicking over your clit, Oliver was almost moaning into your cunt as he eats you. You squeezed his head between your legs so hard, but he wouldn’t pull back. He was groaning and licking you relentlessly.
You were so close to orgasm, but he stopped and reached for your face, greedily kissing your lips with his shiny lips, this time for a long enough time so that you could taste your own arousal. It drove you crazy.
"Now you know just a little bit how delicious you are, Y/N," Oliver almost breathed those words right into your mouth.
He pulled himself up to you, and you felt his hard cock pressing against you. You put your hand on it, which made Oliver exhale sharply. Resting on his hands, he lifted up a little while you caressed it with your hand. He looked lasciviously at you, as your hand was moving up and down, stroking his dick. Then he hugged you and rolled over on the bed with you, and you were on top now. You sank lower, carefully wrapping your lips around his cock. He tilted his head back, mouth half open. The feel of your soft lips and warm tongue almost drove Oliver crazy. He put one hand in your hair, gently running it through.
"Yes, dear Y/N, that's it..."
"My sweet Y/N..."
Then you, without stopping your actions, looked him straight in the eyes. It was too much, and Oliver groaned and gently released you, turning you back down under him. His cock was harder than the steel of any sword that was in this manor.
"Do you know what is the best thing about a karaoke night, besides your amazing number?" asked Oliver and gave the answer himself, "It's that you can scream and moan all over the house, as loudly as you want. Or whatever I want it to be."
Those words flooded you with moisture, and at that moment Oliver entered you.
He gave you a moment to adjust to his size, his cock completely filling you up as he was buried deep inside of you. He exhaled, full of admiration and lust.
"Gods, Y/N, you’re so tight," he said breathlessly, kissing you. You started moaning into his mouth as he began to move. The pace of his hips was leisurely at the start, gently rolling into yours, your eyes were connected to each other. His strong arms caged your twitching body under him. It all felt so good you were afraid that you might just woke up from some kind of dream or fantasy that you had, thinking of Oliver and falling asleep.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you as he increased his pace. Soon, the speed of his pounding becoming relentless as his panting and your own moans. You wrapped your legs around his body, nails digging into his back as you gave him the perfect angle to go even deeper into you.
“Fuck, girl, moan for me, yeah. Let the whole house know who is giving it to you, that pleasure,” Oliver’s hot whisper almost burned your skin.
You let out the loudest groan as he began slamming into you, driving to the edge of existence. The entire floor was really filled with your screams of pleasure, echoing in the dark. His hips slap against yours loudly, shaking the old bed. He clenched his teeth, watching the way your doe eyes look up at him, eyes were full of sensuality and desire. Oh, how beautiful and docile you were, he could not believe himself it was all happening at least.
You clenched around him and soon you arched your back, his name fell from your lips. He followed later soon, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he was doing last movements with his hips.
You went soft and limp under him as he panted with his hoarse voice in your ear. Oliver exhaled contentedly, triumphantly smirking.
You changed your position by lying down next to each other. For a while, you both just lay silently in bed, recovering your breath and feeling the spreading bliss to every cell of your bodies. Quick began to slowly and gently stroke and caress your body, leaving a weightless touch on your skin. He gently brushed two knuckles of his finger against your soft cheek.
"Oliver," you whispered into the darkness.
"Yes, Y/N?" he said, playing with your hair.
"Tell me, you've liked me since Oxford, haven't you? At first, I didn't even realise it, but in recent days I've been thinking so much about our acquaintance and how you looked at me then… So I thought it might be true..."
Oliver chuckled softly.
"Yes, my clever Y/N, you're absolutely right. I lost my head about you nearly as soon as I saw you. Seems you can't hide the truth from you."
You smiled, snuggling closer to him, "It's so good that you also got to Saltburn this summer," you mused, "Maybe, it is some kind of fate."
Oliver smiled at your words, gently tucking a lock behind your ear.
"Yes, I guess, it is."
The mixture of satisfaction, happiness and alcohol acted on you like a magic potion, and soon you peacefully fell asleep on his shoulder. Oliver was very glad that it was your room and you didn't have to be disturbed in any way. Saltburn had his own eyes and ears, it was not worth creating unnecessary rumors now. He wasn't in a position here to be able to afford it, at least, not now.
He kissed you gently on the temple and carefully left your bed, dressing up in his tuxedo and returning to the living room.
The fun continued. The hunt was a success.
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moons-of-dewclan · 5 months
Note
Uhh I’m sure you’ve been asked this before but!!! Do you have any advice for making a clangen comic? I’m kinda doing a disaster clan but in intervals of 5 moons, and I can’t fit in the specific prompts on one image (and I’m too lazy to draw like 5 pages) so uhmmm do u have any advice? :3
The reason I go in intervals of five is because I’m a curious guy and I draw and play clangen on separate devices so uhhh oh god am I oversharing I’ll shut up now
MY TIPS WON'T BE GREAT bc my whole art experience is 'do what i want when i want how i want and if it's not fun i don't do it' SO IT'S NOT A TECHNICAL THING BUT LKASNDLKASD I CAN TRY!! what's been good for me in clangen is, • always mark down your seasons! bc it sucks to forget what season the event took place in when you go to draw it • don't shove every tiny prompt and event into a moon if you don't want to (it's a lot of work..) • it's ok to have a clan of 40 cats and only follow 1 or 2 main characters. if the pressure if the amount of cats you end up with is too much, IGNORE EM. + silhouettes are ok if you wanna imply a full camp. use stamps even • IF an event happens that you think is going to have a damper on your enjoyment for the comic (like if your favourite cat dies), RELOAD AND PRETEND IT DIDN'T HAPPEN. authenticity is not Real in media you make for fun. unless it's fun for you for favourite main character BillyBreeze to kick the bucket to a random event, you don't have to save and go with it. if it makes you go 'euuhh..' and not 'NOOO!! (smiles in hidden)', 'ok' or 'OHOHO ;)) OMG COOL', screw it. never put anything above your muse and inspiration. • which brings me to, save after every event you like happening! so patrol events, or something. in case randomly something rly weird happens that doesn't make sense with the story or what your cat would do, you can just restart • if you develop your cat, and they do something wildly out of the personality you developed/hc for them, you can ignore it in favour of character consistency (I WILL NOT LIE, i wanted to 100% never change or refuse anything in the game, but i changed lyre's personality after the prompt came up saying that he MAULED VANILLABRIGHT FOR DOUBTING HIS LEADERSHIP. ARE U INSANE HE WOULD NEVER. plus character development is allowed, even if ingame events don't represent it well. so do what you gotta do. game files are easy to change!) • FOLLOW THAT LAZINESS. and follow fun. do what will keep you having the most fun through the entire thing. if you wanna end at 30 moons, do it. if you wanna stop and restart and do a different idea, do it. your own enjoyment matters most. so the second you go 'ugh i don't wanna'- DON'T. whatever it is, don't. nobody is paying you for this, do what you want. (unless they are paying you for it.. then damn, lucky)
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themorningsunshine · 1 year
Text
Be My Muse
Pairing - Aritst!Bucky Barnes x Reader (Childhood best friends to lovers)
Summary - Muse - A person or spirit that gives an artist the desire to create things
Bucky has been in love with you for years, but just can't get himself to say it. So, instead, he decides to show you.
Warnings - None, just fluffy fluff 
Word Count - 2.4k 
a/n - This is for @buckybarnesevents ‘s Connect 4: June-iverse event. Card Number - C4037 for the prompt C1 - Aritst. Thank you to the lovely @bluehourbucky​ for motivating me to actually finish writing this. 
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"Come on, Buck. Just tell me."
You watched as the man you called your best friend shook his head, once again refusing to let out anything about his upcoming art exhibition.
"Oh, come on. Don't be this way." You didn't want to pressurize him, but he was acting weird about this exhibition for the past 2 months.
Every single time when he had an art exhibition coming up, he would ramble about it for weeks to you and you loved it. The way he was excited about what he had made and also the way his nervous ticks showed up always a week before the actual event, you loved every bit of it.  But this time, he hadn't spoken a word remotely related to it.
To top it all off, he had said that this was the most important exhibition of his life.
You were bound to be scared.
"Okay, what about this, you give me a hint, about anything, it doesn't even have to be the centerpiece, literally anything, and I will stop bugging you." You were practically begging now.
"Come on, doll. You are going to come to the main event. You can look at it then." He said putting your cup of coffee in front of you, is pretty much one of the only ways to distract your mind.
"See it then? With everybody else? Is that what I am to you, now, Buck? Just a person in the audience? I knew this day would come." You picked up your cup and with a dramatic turn walked out of the room.
Had you stood there for a moment longer, you would have seen the way Bucky scratched his thumb and bit his lips, two of his most prominent nervous ticks.
Only if he could tell you that you weren't just a person in the crowd. No, you were much more than that. You were everything .
He just had to wait.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
The day of the exhibition came sooner than he would have liked, but to you, it couldn't have been further away.
Bucky had been a little distant with you for the past week and you hated it. You hated it more than anything else in the world.
Usually, he would take you with him to carry out the errands related to the exhibition, 'cause he always got super nervous and you would be there to ground him. Like anchoring him back to the shore.
But this time, you had absolutely no idea what even was the theme of this exhibition. Every single time you offered to go with him for anything, he would always make excuses, and you were confident that they were lies 'cause when did Bucky start to go grocery shopping in the middle of the week?
In the almost 2 decades you had known him, ever since you were a kid, he had never hidden something this important from you.
To say that you were scared would be an understatement.
When you finally entered the exhibition, you were proud to see how many people had shown up. You had always known that Bucky would do exceptionally well as an artist and you had taken every chance you got to tell him exactly that.
As you were about to turn the corner and look at the first painting, you almost collided with a wall of muscle.
You looked up only to be met by the gaze of one of your closest friends.
"Steve, hey!!"
You saw as Steve tried extremely hard to hide the huge grin that threatened to spread across his face and you could swear you saw happy tears brimming in the corner of his eyes.
You squinted as you took a step to the side to let a man walk in, realizing you were blocking the way.
"Y/n, you need to come with me."
"Not now, Steve. It's Bucky's exhibition. I need to stay here."
"He has asked you to come with me."
You narrowed your eyes as you asked, "Are you sure?"
Steve nodded as he took your hand to try and take you away from the paintings.
Dread filled your chest. Did Bucky really not want you in here so much?
You follow Steve as he leads you toward an isolated door of the arena.
You turn to look at him and he signals you to get inside.
"Okay, if you are kidnapping me, I might as well let you know that no one is going to pay a single penny as ransom to you." You joke. You have been friends with Steve almost for as long as you have been with Bucky and you trusted them with everything.
Steve chuckles before replying, "Just go in, y/n."
You open the door and take a step in, only to realize that it's pitch dark. Before you can turn back to look at Steve, the door closes behind you.
You take a deep breath and call out, "Bucky? I swear to god if it's one of your stupid pranks, I'll kill you."
Suddenly, a small light gets switched on beside you and you turn to realize that it beautifully illuminates a painting.
You take a step forward towards it, only to realize that it is a sketch of an eye and it's beautiful .
You can see the way it shines with a glint even though it's just a sketch and you bring your hand forward to run it across it.
It is then that you notice the little note sitting at the bottom right corner of the sketch.
All the city lights combined couldn't shine brighter than your eyes.
Your lips turned upwards into a smile as you read the words. Even though you had absolutely no idea what was happening, it was a huge comfort to know that it was all Bucky's doing. You could recognize that handwriting anywhere.
You looked around hoping to figure out at least something, but all that the little illumination below the sketch showed you was that it was more probable than not a huge hall.
Not even a moment later, another small light was switched on just beside the first one.
It was a painting this time. A very old painting.
It was a small girl sitting on a swing hanging from the tree. A blissful smile on her face, carefree and oblivious to the troubles of the world.
When you noticed the bracelet that she was wearing, you took a step forward, squinting to focus on the painting.
It was you.
And then the memory of that day placed itself at the forefront of your brain.
"Come on, Buck." The little 11-year-old girl called out to the brown-haired boy.
He just shakes his head and refuses to move away from under the tree he is sitting, a sketchbook in hand.
"Why do you even like painting so much?" She had asked, crossing her arms across her chest, puffing in annoyance at his lack of response before walking away towards the swing herself.
A smile finds its way to your lips at the memory. It was about a couple of years after the both of you had met, and yet, it was as clear as day in your mind. Even after all the memories you and Bucky created together over the years, small - innocent ones like these from all those years ago never left your heart.
You look at it intensely for a long time. A couple of tears brimming at the corner of your eyes.
It's been so long. You couldn't help but think. The both of you had grown up but never grew apart. There was always a connection, an instant pull that always brought the both of you back to each other, almost like how no matter how far any of you went, you never forgot your way back home.
After some time, you finally noticed the little note written in the bottom left corner of the painting, just like in the first one. But this one was different. This sentence was the one that would change your whole life for you. In the best way possible. It read :
The day that 12-year-old fell in love, without even knowing what love meant. All he knew was that he was going to love that girl with everything he had, till his last days and beyond.
Your breath hitched in your throat. He loved you.
Bucky Barnes was in love with you.
That's when it hit you.
Everything you have ever wanted. The only thing your heart has ever yearned for, was right in front of you all along.
The love that you had read about in books, the kind of love that swallowed you whole until there was no part left untouched, the love that you have looked for your entire life, has been right there. Right beside you. In the form of the oceanic blue eyes that had enamored you for the last 20 years.
You were in love with your best friend.
The realization doesn't hit you like a truck, or leave you gasping in surprise, it brings with it a sense of peace, a sense of everything falling into place.
You look around frantically searching for the man that you had loved all along without ever knowing it.
You loved him when he fought those bullies to protect Steve and got hurt in the process.
You had loved him when he had brought you cookies when you had gotten sick during Christmas, not being able to move.
You had loved him when you had supported him in his decision to do what his heart desired, in his journey of becoming an artist.
You had loved him when the both of you had said your goodbyes while leaving for college in distant cities when the tears had fallen from your eyes and on the ground and he had comforted you that your friendship won't fall apart.
You had loved him in the nights that were spent staring at the stars together, in the afternoons that had been spent watching movies, curled up beside each other, just the two of you.
You had loved him then, and you love him now and you were pretty sure you were going to love him till the world was nothing but dust.
A light suddenly gets switched on just beside the old painting, and this time too, it's you.
Painted years after the last one, it's you staring at the night sky, a soft, content look on your face.
This time, your eyes frantically search for the note, and sure enough, it's right there, at the bottom.
'Cause, darling without you,
All the shine of a thousand spotlights
All the stars we steal from the night sky
Will never be enough
Never be enough
You can now feel tears rolling down your cheeks, as your lips turn into the widest grin possible.
You turn around and as you do so, all the lights in the room begin to turn on, each revealing a painting of you. Taken in the simplest moments.
There is one with you in the kitchen, covered in flour, a pout evident on your face as you had tried to bake a cake for the first time.
There was one where you were sitting at the beach, staring into the ocean.
The one that you liked the most was the one in which you were sleeping contently, a blanket loosely draped over you, that you could swear hadn't been there before.
Before you can look at the rest of them, a voice comes from the corner of the hall and you turn just in time to look at Bucky Barnes himself.
Your smile grew wider if it was even possible and you almost ran off to embrace him when he started speaking.
"One day, you asked me why I drew. Why I felt the need to express whatever it was I felt through a canvas. I didn't tell you, then, but now I want to, doll.
It's you. It's always been you. You have been my muse, my pillar of support, my motivation to get up every morning, my need to paint because there was no other way I could express to the girl I was in love with that she was all I ever dreamt about. That she was everything I could ever want.
I love you, doll. I love you with everything I am and everything I'll ever be. There are a hundred ways this could fall apart, and trust me, I have thought about each one of them more than I should have. But if there is one chance that this could work, that I could be yours, not just in movie nights or weekly trips to the grocery market, but in every way possible, I want to take that chance. In slow mornings and in intimate nights, in tough days and in the celebratory evenings, I want you, I need you to be a part of all of them, doll because life just doesn't feel like life without you."
As if your feet had gained a mind of their own you ran towards him, circling your arms around his neck and pressing his lips to yours.
The kiss was gentle, soft, full of need and unspoken feelings, of time lost, it was everything .
He pulled you impossibly closer to him, not wanting to ever let go.
Finally, when the both of you pulled away, still staying close with the widest possible grins on your faces, you whispered, "I love you too, Buck. So damn much." You say it so slowly, it feels like a dream to him.
You would one day shout out to the world how much you loved him, but for now, it was going to be your little moment. When the city of Brooklyn went about its day just like it did every day, two people who were irresistibly, irrevocably in love with each other stood there, holding each other, in the gentlest of embraces, embers of their love while keeping them warm, strong enough to burn the whole world down.
You stay there for what feels like forever before Bucky whispers. "Doll, be my muse?"
You look up at him, drowning in his oceanic blue eyes, only to reach home, before you whisper, "Forever."  
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082206y · 2 months
Text
bitter orange — okkotsu yūta [1/3]
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pairings. okkotsu yūta + f! reader/original character (main); past!orimito rika + f!reader; past!okkotsu yūta + orimito rika warnings/themes. mentions of death, jealousy, hints of obsession and possession. just a lil dark romance practice (which is barely any dark romance tbh who am i kidding) sprinkled with food motifs but i dont know what im doing im just here for the vibes :P mostly sfw with nsfw themes but nothing sexual bc im too scared to go down that dark path (also no use of y/n bc i started writing with an original name and it unfortunately stuck lawl... can be treated as either or it doesnt matter tbh i cant write anything outside of 2nd person anwyay) word count. 2.8k words nothing too crazy xd playlist. knuckle velvet, ethel cain; velvet ring, big thief; pure, cigarettes after sex; only in the dreams, the marias; be my mistake, the 1975; mary, alex g next
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it’s been a long time since i have seen my beloved. the moss has grown on that abetachibana tree
PART ONE: ichigo daifuku
Gojō Satoru tells you that love is the most twisted curse of them all.
He had said it in passing after your first solo mission, right as you were entering the car back to Jujutsu Tech before talking your ear off with his lame jokes. The mission had consisted of exorcizing a curse that had persistently haunted an abandoned apartment complex in Omotesandō, assigned to you by the higher-ups in accordance with your newly promoted rank as a Grade 2 sorcerer, having decided that a Grade 1 was doable enough for someone of your caliber. The curse itself wasn’t anything special, though, only repeating gargled confessions of its love to some ‘Chiyo-chan’—whoever she was—the whole time you were dodging its attacks, which was incredibly annoying. You liked your battles in silence, quick and succinct, but curses make that difficult to achieve.
Gojō muses it could have been a past lover, this Chiyo-chan—its love for her having cursed itself. You didn’t really care. If you keep up the good work, complete your required missions and get another recommendation, you could be ranked a Semi-Grade 1 by your second year, then a Grade 1 by your third and nothing else after that because unless you were someone like Gojō Satoru, then you are capped forever at Grade 1.
“So anyway—snacks you like?” said sorcerer asks, finally done with his previous tale. Something about an old coworker. “Mochi, senbei, or taiyaki? Personally, I'm a mochi ice cream type of guy!”
You look at him.
“Why are you here again?”
“... Is your memory that small, Ume? I was proctoring you,” he tuts, mouth turned downwards. “Congrats on the promotion, by the way.”
You shrug. “Ichigo daifuku is good, I guess.”
He smiles, wryly.
“You’re joking, right?”
+
The building facing your childhood home had been home to Orimito Rika, an unsuspecting property with a decent front yard and the occasional street cat or two often shooed away by her irate grandmother. “Mean granny,” you’d often call her, the insult drowned out by your hushed giggles as you played with your dolls. Rika wouldn’t say anything about it, wouldn’t dare verbally agree with you, but she would always nod her head down, the corners of her lips turned up too high.
You didn’t particularly hate the old woman, but there was a certain kind of satisfaction to saying it behind her back after all the times you’ve caught her looking at her granddaughter in unbridled scorn, your own little form of revenge. You could never understand how her only remaining family could look at her like that, not when Rika was so beautiful and kind; like the cherry blossoms during spring, falling gently along with the wind. Sure, she could be a little cunning at times, and none of the other kids at school liked her because “something’s odd about her, can’t you just hang out with us instead?”—but that’s what makes her interesting, right?
Rika isn’t weird, she’s pretty, and you’re the bee drawn to her. She’s only older than you by a year, ten instead of nine, but she always played with you, taught you how to make flower crowns at the park, and when you walked home from school she’d always hold your hand. Her smile is blindingly bright, the sound of her voice a song you couldn’t stop listening to. Selfishly, you wish it would always be the two of you together; playing with your dolls, walking home with your hands intertwined.
But when she came back from the hospital, so did Okkotsu Yūta.
You could never see what she saw in him; he was short and just a little bit pathetic, always trailing after her like a lost puppy at first. You could push him off the swing and he'd move on with a sniffle, the kind to give up the plastic shovel even though he desperately needed it to finish his sand castle because he didn’t want to fight a girl. He smiled shyly and hid his hands behind his back, looking at you like he was looking for your approval. Of course, you never gave him the time of day, because it felt like he had stolen Rika—your Rika. It was supposed to be just you and her, but that wasn’t the case anymore. Now there was Okkotsu Yūta, who held Rika’s other hand after school, who took away her attention from you so easily.
“He’s so cute, isn’t he?” she asks often, a light blush dusting her face.
“I guess,” is your reply.
“Ne,” she calls, presenting to you a small, black box. You look at it in apprehension, wincing when she eventually opens it. “What do you think of this ring? It was my mom’s. I’m gonna give this to Yūta-kun, do you think he’ll like it?”
The ring was immensely simple, a silver-colored band with a small diamond in front, glinting under the light. Nevermind the fact that it was too big for a child’s fingers to fit in, Rika presented it to you as if it held all the answers to the world. Although her parents were dead, and she had definitely stolen it from her grandmother’s dresser, the ring spoke full of promise. When she takes it out of the box and lets you inspect it, it feels heavy.
“... You really like him, don’t you, Rika-chan?” you ask, quietly.
Rika looks at the stupid piece of jewelry, painfully smitten.
“Mhm,” she affirms. “I really like Yūta-kun. I want to be with him forever! Of course, I like you too, Ume-chan. You and Yūta-kun are my favorite people in the world!”
You close the box, handing it back to her. When Rika looks at you expectantly, you realize then that you could never bring yourself to take that happiness away from her.
+
The koinobori flies.
“It’s so pretty!” Rika exclaims, eyes wide and staring up at the sky where the huge, windsock carp moves around. It’s bathed in all sorts of colors—from red to blue to white to green—dancing along the azure expanse in commemoration of Children’s Day. The weather is just right, not too hot nor too cold, and the wind caresses your skin gently, the sun not too harsh. It makes the color of Rika’s hair shine in all the right ways, adds more sparkle in her already bright eyes. She’s wearing a yellow sundress, a nice change from her usual blue one. The cream-colored hat you let her borrow covers her face with the shade, but her smile remains bright and blinding. She looks pretty.
She gives you all of her ichigo daifuku, and shares Yūta’s snacks. She doesn’t even like chimaki.
“Are you sure, Rika-chan?” you ask, looking at the two sweets in your hands.
She beams. “You like them, don’t you?”
You keep them with you until the end of the event.
The day passes by incredibly fast, your little trio having exhausted yourselves from running around the park alongside the other children. Yūta chases Rika around the park, and you watch them squeal and laugh at each other and hold hands. You watch them take a nap under the shade, their pinkies intertwined, and you watch as the ugly color of green blinds your eyesight. You leave them be.
Sometimes, you wish you’re the colorful koinobori flying in the sky. You’d let Rika hold on to you, let her fly and hear her amused laugh as the wind tickles her skin. Sometimes, you wish Yūta slapped the ring away from her hands when she handed it to him. Wish he stomped it on the ground and at the same time stomped on her heart. Wish he didn’t take it with a huge smile and agree that he’d marry her when they get older; he’s not the one who’d wait long lines just to get her the best ichigo daifuku, not the one who’d jump at the other kids when they so much as think of insulting her, and he won’t be the one who’d choose to stay with her when she’s all gray and old cause he’s a boy, and boys would never do that.
Sometimes, you wish he never liked her at all—because he never deserved her in the first place.
Okkotsu Yūta could never love Orimito Rika like you.
+
He sits beside you at lunch.
Rika’s been bedridden for the whole week, which subsequently ruins your week. Yūta doesn’t seem to mind her absence all that much since he doesn’t see her a lot during classes anyway, but they’re supposed to be engaged. He should always be thinking of her, should be acting as miserable as you even at the unripe age of nine. He looks too okay with her absence when he shouldn’t be.
“What’s this?” you ask, pointing at the small bag of snacks he had placed on the cover of your bento.
“Hm?” he looks up. “Oh, it’s norimaki senbei.”
“... And?” you prod.
He tilts his head. “You don’t want it?”
“... I don’t want it.”
He looks at you thoughtfully.
“But you like them, don’t you?” he asks though he’s acting like he already knows, like you’ll take it regardless of what you say. It’s annoying.
You look at the seaweed-wrapped rice crackers—the stupid norimaki senbei—in mild contempt. “Why are you giving it to me?”
Yūta’s smile is small, knowing. “Because you don’t like sweets.”
You frown.
+
She’s a sweet girl.
You think of Orimoto Rika like that because it’s true—she smiles sweetly, she speaks sweetly, and she likes sweet things. She tells you that her favorite snack is ichigo daifuku, the very same confection you always begged your parents to buy for you just so you could share them with her. It pays off all the time because then she’d look as sweet as the daifuku itself, her cheeks as red as the fruit within it. She also likes hanami dango, but she doesn’t like the green part because she doesn’t really like the subtle taste of yomogi, so you eat the rest for her because she doesn’t want to waste it. She likes cold tea instead of hot, sweet instead of savory, like yuzu iced tea or bubbly ramune in comparison to the nutty taste of hōjicha. When you go to the store, she always gets the kompeitō with some random anime character on the packaging because those were the “cutest kind of kompeitō,” and Rika likes cute things.
She also likes the color pink, but when you ask her what her favorite color is she’d say it’s blue. It’s blue not because she wears that blue dress all the time, but blue because it’s the color of Okkotsu Yūta’s eyes, bright and round and always looking at her. Rika likes it that way—she likes how Okkotsu Yūta is always looking at her with his blue eyes, unwavering and full of adoration for her and her only.
You think Orimito Rika is a sweet girl, but sometimes she’s more than that. Sometimes, when the other kids get brave enough to drag you away from her, tell you to stop hanging out with her, they say it’s because Rika doesn’t like anyone else but Okkotsu Yūta.
Sometimes, when they tell you that, you wonder if Rika liked you at all, way before Okkotsu Yūta came into the picture.
But most of the time, you don’t really care. Even if Rika didn’t like you, you’d still like her. Even if she’d only have her eyes set on Okkotsu Yūta with his stupid blue eyes and his stupid norimaki senbei and stupid chimaki that he shared with her on the fifth of May, you’d still like her because she’s Rika—beautiful, kind, and wonderful Rika.
She has things she doesn’t like, too, such as other people but never Yūta-kun or Ume-chan! She likes it when people compliment her and praise her looks and give her free stuff like ramune or ichigo daifuku or Sailor Moon-themed kompeitō from the store, but sometimes she tells you that she dislikes this certain group of girls from Yūta’s class, dislikes the boy assigned as your seatmate, her homeroom teacher, the “weird” guy who works at the konbini a street over, and dislikes it even more when her grandmother looks at her and tells her she killed her own father without even saying anything at all.
You know all those things because you know Orimito Rika. You like her even if she holds intense dislike for the people outside her circle, people who tick her off just a little for you to see her smile crack at the edges and go stiff, the little twitch of her brown eyes, and most importantly, you still like her when all she wants in the world is the attention of the boy who wears her deceased mother’s ring.
You’ll always want sweet girls like her.
+
“Where’s Rika-chan?”
“Her grandma won’t let her go out today,” Yūta says, sitting next to you on the bench. “So it’s just you and me.”
He says it dejectedly, but it’s not enough for you. If he was really sad, then he’d be as sad as you are, so you start packing your belongings. “I’m leaving, then.”
He startles, standing up. “Huh? W–wait! Don’t leave just yet!”
“But Rika-chan’s not here,” you frown. “There’s no point in hanging out today.”
He falters, looking down at the ground.
“Even if she isn’t here, we can still play together…” he offers, looking up at you timidly. “We’re friends, too, aren’t we?”
The green-eyed monster stares at the silver chain wrapped around his neck, the ring acting as its pendant tucked underneath his shirt—like an unattainable treasure trapped inside a chest with the key thrown away somewhere you cannot find it. We’re not friends, the monster says with a snarl, stay away from me.
If there is one thing you know, then it’s that you have never wanted to be friends with Okkotsu Yūta, not after he took everything from you. He can butter you up by sticking to you during class and sitting next to you at lunch and even offering you some of his not-ichigo daifuku, not-yuzu iced tea, and not-colorful anime-themed kompeitō but you will and have never liked him for the green-eyed monster will always sit on your shoulder so long as he wears that ring on his person, a physical manifestation of his promise with Rika. Your Rika, even if that’s not really the case.
You will never like Okkotsu Yūta, because—because he—
“... What’re we even gonna do?” you ask, slowly.
He immediately brightens up.
“… Wanna get ice cream?” he offers. “There’s a new flavor I wanna try!”
His suggestion does not entice you at all, but when he stands there with an outstretched hand waiting for you to take it, like it’ll matter if you reject him, you find yourself at a crossroads. But you make your decision soon enough. Like it’ll matter, like the green-eyed monster isn’t there, staring.
“Okay,” you say, moving past him to start walking. He blinks incredulously at the blatant rejection before gathering himself and following after you, a prep to his step regardless of your actions.
You try to ignore the warmth of his body next to yours.
He’s too close.
+
“Yūta-kun’s birthday is in a few days,” Rika announces, lying on your spare futon. “Did you get him anything?”
You didn’t. “... Yeah.”
“Really? What is it?” she cranes her neck to face you. “What’d you get him?”
She doesn’t want your gift being better than hers, it checks out. “Um… just a toy. A garbage truck.”
“Oh, okay,” she turns back to face the ceiling. “I made him a scrapbook with photos of us. I worked really hard on it… do you think he’ll like it?”
“He’ll like anything you give him.”
She’s already given him a ring—what else could compare to that?
Rika smiles. “I guess… you’re right.”
Soon enough, she goes to sleep, breathing softly beside you as your fan fills the silence of the night. You continue staring at the ceiling, making out the little dents despite the lack of light. You squeeze the hand that holds your under the cover, before closing your eyes.
You hear her softly breathe on a steady beat alongside the fan whirring in the corner, and you close your eyes, squeezing her hand tighter underneath the covers of your too-close futon.
You’ll have to ask your parents for some money tomorrow.
+
“Rika-chan isn’t here again,” Yūta says dejectedly. “Her granny’s too strict.”
“She hates her,” you say quietly.
Yūta looks at you, confused. “What’d you say?”
“Nothing. Your birthday’s coming up soon, what are you doing that day?”
“Uwah—you remember?”
“Rika-chan told me.”
“Oh, well,” he smiles sheepishly, “we have school that day, but after that I’ll be celebrating at my house. I’m thinking of just inviting Rika-chan and you over… um, so, will you come?”
“I’ll go if Rika-chan is going.”
He blinks, before a smile blooms on his face. “Okay! I’ll see you, then.”
+
It happens when you aren't there.
It never should have happened at all.
Orimito Rika is pronounced dead at the age of eleven, her body unrecognizable under the heavy weight of a blue truck.
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gasolinerainbowpuddles · 10 months
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pedro memes pt 2????
since y'all seemed to like the other ones?? (✨PART 1 ✨if you didn't see it and want to)
idek what this one is supposed to mean, but I feel it ↓
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these two versions of CLOWNERY are what I want all my girlies to think of when they get some dumbass anon hate :)
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made w @tightjeansjavi, @the-ginger-hedge-witch, @joelscruff, @cavillscurls & @swiftispunk in mind
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two versions bc apparently there is THAT much clownery happening lately?
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yeah, he drives a Jeep. duh.
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this is so @walkintotheriveranddisappear coded
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dO nOt PuT mE iN a SiTuAtIoN
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this one is for @toxicanonymity bc I said so
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supernatural demon daddy diq 🤭
three versions just bc Pedro is *~*~real life art~*~*
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dedicated to my fellow Baumgartner enthusiast @netherfeildren
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I do have more memes bc I just make stupid shit for myself, so I can share if y'all want? I didn't expect anybody to find my dumb edits that funny. so many of them are just weird shit my brain thinks is hilarious but I have a sort of weird sense of humor sometimes and I genuinely am not sure if anyone else would find them amusing sssoooooooo lmk i guess?
catch ya later, ♥Puddles♥
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I'm tagging anyone who reblogged, commented, or liked the last one bc there was a lot of new names popping up and I wanna make sure anybody who likes my dumb memes can see them. if you don't want me to tag you or you want me to take your name off this post just lmk ♥
@dilfspitdrinker @lalosbxtch @basicoccult @thesummerpetrichor @marvelbear384 @atticrissfinch @grayspence @angiees-things @stormseyer @renaissance-born @pearliegirliesstuff @totallynotastanacc @struig @angelkhi @bunnyskisses @sadnbraziliann @rubyfruitjungle @raccoonhandedhottie @marcus-is-my-muse @xdaddysprincessxx @whatchamacallit24 @happilysillytrash @x-starlight-08-x @joelmillershirtlessishwhatineed @blueturd16 @permanentlydizzy @sy-111
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ettelenethelien · 3 months
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1st age Beleriand dashboard simulator • part 2 (this time with Men!)
Part 1 here
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🌲 find-me-in-dorthonion following
is it weird to get existential dread when you think on how short our lives must seem to elves?
#musings #edainsafespace
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🌻 sunflower-south
Doriath is problematic
Am I the only person to think that there's something very wrong with how the Doriathrim sit safe behind their girdle while the rest of us is exposed to enemy attacks?
🍂 0r0ph3r following
Are we then supposed to remove the girdle in the name of "solidarity"??
I can't even begin to list everything that's bonkers with your premise.
#noldor being entitled jerks
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🌊 remembering-deep following
I wish there was a way to report people for using quenya on here. ugh
57 notes
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🐉house-of-finrod following
The way some of the people here talk about the secondborn is sick, to be honest. They're Eruhini, they're not animals, they're not worthless, they're not usurpers, they're not to be called slurs, and I don't care what Fëanor said or didn't say, I thought it was well accepted those are the lies of our common enemy!
#and if I hear one more person say mortal deaths in the war don't matter because they didn't have much to live anyway I will personally strangle them #tw anti-edain sentiment
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👊🏽iglishmek following
Reminder: if you wouldn't say "engwa", don't say "nogoth" either, both are slurs.
🍏say-ros
But I would say "engwa" xd
and I know some people use one and not the other cause they think the naugrim are worse even than the engwar; I obviously don't, both of you are so low down one can't get lower - but I don't argue with them.
👊🏽iglishmek following
I will not dignify this with a response.
#ugh I thought I had him blocked though #amended now #wonder if it's the same one that's been harassing me on anon
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💌 daily-polls
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99 837 votes • 1 day 3 hours
🌌 daughterofdoriath following
#uhhh #stating the exact mix would be as good as telling you my name #guess I'm one of a kind haha #but at the same time I'm also as Sinda as they come
19 900 notes
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👤marchwardennn-deactivated2212455
we've received news of an attack... seems more serious than usual... if I stop posting you know what hit me.
#i don't suppose there's a tag for #that weird fire in the north #oh wait wdym there is?? #love y'all #hold tight
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80 notes · View notes
yeoja-dream · 4 months
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Intertwined
Part 1 Part 2
Pairing: BTS OT7 X Reader 
Genre: Fantasy, Magic, Eventual Smut, Plot, slight slow burn
Characters: Vampire!BTS, Elf!Reader
Content Warning: none 
Word Count: 3.5k
You woke up the following morning to the blaring of your alarm waking you from a restful sleep. Instantly, you are in a bad mood. The post-concert blues were hitting like a truck. How were you meant to go back to regular life after a night like that? 
You pick up your phone, scrolling through work emails. I’ll have the payment for this month’s tuition tonight! The twins will be missing from the 10 am hip-hop intermediate class! Ms. Y/N I really think I’m ready for pointe! You sorted through the usual sort of emails when your eyes landed on a more unusual email. Private lesson request. That’s weird. You muse to yourself, rubbing the last of the sleep from your eyes as you open the request, sliding yourself up into a seated position in bed.
“1 adult lesson, style is hip hop and modern…” You mused out loud scrolling through the details. “9 pm is cutting it a little close 1 hour before closing, but it says you’re prepaid so…” You trail off. “Approved!” You announced out loud before hitting the confirm appointment button through the appointment portal. “What was the name anyway?” you scroll back up and snort at the answer. Kim Seokjin? That had to be a joke or a crazy coincidence. Either way, you were definitely going to have to ID this new client. Imagine if it was him - the thought amuses you as you begin your day, preparing for a day of classes. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Despite your initial grumpy start, and perhaps it was the thrill of a mystery client who, you admit you’ve been dreaming about being Jin all day, but the day passes you quicker than you first believed. Not even Roberto in your toddler dance class 1, his endless energy typically giving you an endless headache, broke your stride today. 
You waved the last student out, shutting the door and locking it behind you. Can’t be too careful these days. You reminded yourself. You glanced at your watch, 8:15. Perfect, 45 minutes until Mr. Kim Seokjin walks through my front door. You thought to yourself, bemused. 
Putting aside your delusion, you organized the studio for a private lesson, and most importantly, you could slip into the back and enjoy a light dinner. On your phone, you sighed dramatically as you found yourself flipping through photos from last night. When will I ever get to experience something like that in my lifetime? You whined inwardly, bemoaning your modest finances. Maybe in another life 100 years or so, another group will pop up and you will have saved enough to get the same seats. Maybe. Your daydreaming was interrupted, however, by the unmistakable sound of a locked door trying to be opened. 
Your eyes snap to the time. 8:58 pm. Shit. How could I have let time get away from me like that? You snap up from the paper-cluttered desk and run, as fast as your legs will take you through the studio room and into the reception area. It was the person visible through the glass that stopped you dead in your tracks. 
You blinked once, twice, and rubbed your eyes for good measure. Holy. Shit. HOLY SHIT. THAT WAS KIM SEOKJIN. KIM SEOKJIN IS STANDING OUTSIDE MY STUDIO RIGHT NOW. Amidst your internal, slack-jawed panic, Jin stood just outside, black t-shirt and baggy pants hung off him effortlessly. He held up a phone screen and pointed at it, saying something you couldn’t make out through the glass. 
Let him in you idiot! Your inner voice scolds. I can’t give a dance lesson to Kim Seokjin! I should be asking him for advice! You fired back. Let him in, idiot. She says, firmer this time which is enough to break you out of your stun. 
You walk up to the glass door, and with a trembling hand, undo the latch and swing open the door. 
“Sorry, I had a lesson scheduled for tonight, if now isn’t a good time I could reschedule.” He offers politely. He thinks I forgot.
“No, no come in please!” You said as you opened the door wider for him to slip in. “I didn’t forget it's just uh,” He made eye contact with you “...robberies.” It was all you could finish. 
“Right well, no worries!” He said, his disposition relentlessly sunny despite how badly you were screwing this up. 
“Oh sorry before I take you back,” You start, and again the voice in your throat dies into a timid squeak as you finish your sentence “I just really to see some ID and if you would change your shoes I would really appreciate that you see its just house rules and-” 
“Sure. No problem. Here’s my ID,” he said, handing it fully to you. Can I sit here and change my shoes?” He asked, gesturing to the bench next to the reception desk. 
“That is exactly what it is there for. I will sign you into the system so it won’t change you the no-call no-show fee.” You plopped down at the desk, ID in hand. “Is there a reason why there is a sticker over the numbers?” 
“Oh yeah, I have to show my ID sometimes and all it takes is one person with a good memory and bad intentions to steal my identity. I am sure you understand.” He said, slipping on a pair of clean, white sneakers. 
“Oh wow yeah, I guess that’s true. A lot of weirdos out there, huh?” You asked, sliding the ID back towards him. 
“Tell me about it.” He said, picking up the card. “What do you think, more handsome in real life, right?” He asked with a wink. 
As if reflexively, your eyes rolled before you had the forethought to process how rude it might have appeared. Jin laughed heartily. 
“No sorry! Force of habit!” You said, putting your hands together apologetically. “Of course, you’re more handsome in person!” 
“No no!” He said, still laughing. “It was a funny reaction, genuine.” He added, sliding the card into his wallet. “Shall we?” He asked gesturing to the dance studio. 
“We shall,” you said, leading the way. 
The studio lights had been dimmed, the normally bright, overhead fluorescent lights seemed too sterile for a one-on-one interaction. The rest of the equipment had been put to the sides of the room, leaving it completely vacant with the exception of the worn tape on the floor demarking where students were to stand. 
“So let's start with some stretches.” You said, sitting on the floor in the center of the room. Jin followed your command wordlessly. You turned yourself at an angle to him, feeling immediately more at ease. It was easier to deal with him on your periphery. There was a sensation, one that you had been able to ignore on account of your nerves that had been present, you now observed, since he had first arrived. It felt like blue zaps of electricity buzzing through you, and as you spread your legs, lean forward into a split, and feel the stretch, it clicks. This was the feeling you had at the concert. The electric current, the dizzy, hazy feeling that washed over you when you locked eyes with them, it was coming on stronger and stronger, and it was making you bolder. 
“So,” You began. “Let's start with the basics. What brings you to a random dance studio when your company has plenty of dance teachers and choreographers?” You ask, stretching an arm across your chest. 
Jin mirrored you. “Let’s call it happenstance. Besides, the greatest way to learn is to be taught by many teachers.” 
“Okay, Confucius.” You teased. “What did you want to learn today?” 
“I want to learn whatever it is you are learning.” He said matter-of-factly. 
You snorted. “I doubt you want to learn what I am learning.” 
“Try me.” He said, standing up. 
You followed his lead, standing. “If you insist.” You said with a shrug. From the back wall of the studio, you dragged two chairs to the center of the space, about 5 feet apart. “I have been choreographing a routine using this.” You said gesturing to the chair. 
He knitted his eyebrows together in concern for a moment, before the expression dissolved, as did his resolve. 
“Alright,” He began, “Show me first, so I can get an idea of what it is you are referring to.” 
You walked over to the music player, set a 10-second delay, and walked over into position. As the beat hit, you moved your body with long-practiced poise and grace. The routine was like lovers making love for the first time, slow, explorative, and careful to begin. As the song continues, though, the intensity rises before BANG! The finale. 
You lost yourself in the music, whatever high that crept into your system made you carefree and light. You put your everything into every moment, and as you grinded and body rolled, you never forgot whose eyes were on you. You didn’t shy away. 
As the song finished, you let loose the final, explosive move, a visual orgasm to finish the routine. You let the silence hang for a moment while you caught your breath, without the music, shame began to reach through the haze.
“Well…?” You asked, turning around. You weren’t sure what you expected him to look like, or even how you expected him to react, but as you turned, a dark, hungry, and heady expression sat on Jin’s face. Where before he had been kind, respectful, clinical, even, your heart rate rose and a scarlet blush traveled up your face as you couldn’t help but imagine what he was capable of. “Jin…?” You asked again, taking a step toward him. 
As you do so, he blinks and shakes his head. When he looked at you again, his expression was once again as kind and friendly as it had been before. “Sorry.” He said “Got a little lost in thought there. That was amazing, where did you learn to dance like that?” 
“I’ve been practicing my whole life,” You said. “I’d like to think I came out of my mother’s womb dancing.” You said with a chuckle. 
A slightly uncomfortable silence hung in the air before you cleared your throat to speak again. 
“Did you want to learn however much of that we can in…” you glanced at your watch “20 minutes?” You asked. 
“Oh, sure!” He said. “It looks like fun.” 
You walked over to the media player, setting the song’s tempo slower, and began the process of breaking down the dance, beat by beat. Sure enough, being the professional dancer he is, he is an extremely fast learner, never needing to go over the same part more than 3 or 4 times before he has it memorized. You watched him carefully, allowing yourself to be slightly more critical of him than you might be with a more inexperienced student. 
“This part,” you demonstrated, rolling your body with practiced fluidity, “needs to be sexier, more fluid.” 
“How is this?” He asked, his movements still stiff. 
“Not quite.” You said. “Pardon my French, but pretend you’re… well…” you trailed off. 
“Making love to someone.” He finished for you. 
“Right.” You agreed. 
“How about this?” He asked, a perceivable jerkiness still present. 
“Hm.” You mused to yourself. “I think you aren’t using the right muscles. Give me your hand.” 
He offered his hand to you, wordlessly.
You grabbed his hand, opened his palm up flat, and placed it on your stomach. The physical connection sent a strong zap through your body. Focusing on your breathing, you followed through, allowing him to feel the way your muscles were contracting as you did the movement. His expression was hard, unreadable. 
“So… did you feel that?” You asked pulling his hand away. 
“Yeah… I did,” he said, his voice far away and dry. “I definitely did.” 
“So uh, you try now.” You said, feeling shy. 
He did so without comment, and the visual of which causes something to tighten within you. 
“Yeah, that looks a lot better.” 
“Could you,” he began “Ah, never mind.” he cut himself off. 
“Hm?” You ask “I probably don’t mind so ask away.” 
“No, it sounds kinda pervy.” He said, looking down, ashamed. 
“I don’t, uh…” You stammered, unsure how to process what he just said. Was this guy about to ask me to what, take my clothes off so he can see better?? What the hell?
“Oh god that made it sound really bad.” He blurted. “I just wanted you to feel to make sure I was also using the right muscle groups but that sounded kind of weird sorry!” 
“Oh!” You laughed. “You should have said as much. That’s no problem.” 
You walked closer to him, placing your flat hand on his abdomen. You noticed now, as your hand connected with his body, warm tingling spread through your hand. It felt good, you decided, but the unexpected sensation had you pulling back your arm in shock.
“Sorry. “I got zapped.” You lied.
Placing your hand back on his abdomen, through his t-shirt you could feel the hard, lean muscle. The warm, tingly sensation returned, and you watched and felt, mesmerized, as those hard muscles contracted and relaxed through the roll, resisting the urge to cross your legs to relieve some of the building pressure inside of you. 
The proximity, the connection, it swirls through you and you find yourself transfixed, looking up at him. Your breathing is heavy, the current running through you, the haze swirling through your mind, and the tension and heat that was building in your core, it was almost too much to handle. You blinked up at him, his expression dark and unreadable. He looked down at you too, bringing a hand up, cupping your face gently. He searched your expression for a sign of protest, and when there was none, he dipped his head down, and soft, gentle lips met yours. 
You immediately felt breathless, and everything inside you was screaming, chanting at you to keep going. Maybe it was the dizzy way he made you feel, but this all felt so undeniably right. The kiss deepened, your lips parting to one another as you excitedly and feverishly explored one another’s mouth. He didn’t seem to dare to take the next physically, but you needed him. 
You ran your hands up his body and then around his neck, using the new position to press yourself flush to him. He moved his arms down, wrapping solidly around your waist. He backed you up slowly until your back was against the cool mirror of the studio. He pinned you there, placing his hands on each side of your head, against the glass. His arms flexed and relaxed with heavy practiced, restraint, as it took every fiber of his control not to rip your clothes off, take you, and mark you as his on this studio floor. 
He pulled away, suddenly, taking 3 halting, jerky steps backward. “I’m really sorry about this.”
“Wha…?” You ask, dazed and confused. 
“I have to go.” He said, his voice serious and strained. In a flash, he was gone, with the sound of the front door closing behind him the only evidence he was ever really there. 
In the complete silence, the heated haze that filled your mind subsided slowly, and your mind worked in overtime to process the series of events that had just happened to you. An achey feeling blooms in your chest and a different type of heat spreads to your face, embarrassment. What the fuck you thought to yourself, he probably thinks I’m some kind of crazed slut. You allowed yourself to sink to the floor, pulling your knees into your chest tight. What the fuck is his problem anyway, he kissed me first, you reasoned. Maybe I am just a god-awful kisser, you added bitterly. Maybe I took things too far. Maybe I made him uncomfortable. Fuck uncomfortable, he started it! He pinned you against the wall, he absolutely loved it. Two parts of your mine argued back and forth. Whatever the case, sitting in your dim studio feeling bad for yourself didn’t bring you any closer or make you any happier, so you resolved to pick yourself up and bring yourself home. 
You jammed your keys into the keyhole of your front door, unlocking it and entering your quiet apartment in a numb, dissociative daze. If you gave yourself 100,000 guesses this morning to guess as to how your day would end, you still wouldn’t have guessed you’d find yourself in the position you were in. Sleep tonight would be impossible, you decided. You made your way to your bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet, grabbing one of the large, brown, glass bottles inside, shaking it tentatively. The last of the medicine you sighed inwardly, shaking the last two tightly-bundled, pill-sized leaf preparations from the bottle. When the nightmares would keep you awake, Dad would bring you two of these with a glass of warm, cinnamon-spiced apple cider. “These will help you sleep,” He said, handing you the pills. “And this,” he continued, “is full of spices to keep the monsters away.” Handing you the mug of hot, fragrant liquid.
“Like what?” You asked, voice still trembling from crying. 
“Cinnamon.” He told you, climbing into bed next to you. 
“Monsters don’t like cinnamon?” you asked, putting the bitter pills on your tongue, swallowing quickly. 
“Can’t stand it,” Dad said, wrapping an arm around you, holding you close to his side. The contact is comforting. “One sniff of it and they go running for the hills!” 
You giggled at that. “It must suck to be a monster, then.” You decided. 
“Most definitely.” Dad agreed.
The memory was bittersweet. You swallow the bitter preparations, speed through your evening routine, and slip in between your sheets, already feeling the drowsy effects blossom through your body and mind. With the last of your cognition, you grabbed your phone, sending a mass email. You needed a break.
Dear students and families, 
I have come down with something and as such, I will be suspending all classes for tomorrow. The following day, however, classes will return as scheduled. Thank you for your understanding. 
Best, 
Teacher Y/N
You hit send, and allow your eyes to close, sending you into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “I can’t get through,” Namjoon said, eyes closed, eyebrows knit together with concentration. 
“Should we go up to her place?” Taehyung asked, looking at the older man, concerned. 
“No,” Jin said, voice stern. “We have done plenty.” 
“We?” Jungkook snorted. “Hyung, last time I checked it was you who planted one on her, not us.” 
Jin shot him a dirty look. “If we had sent you, you would have lost control 30 seconds into being there and we would be having a much different conversation right now.” 
Yoongi walked over to Jin, standing behind him and rubbing his shoulders comfortingly. “You are completely sure?” Yoongi asked, his tone flat, measured. 
“As I have said 100 times over, yes,” Jin said, pushing down the growing irritation in his voice. It wasn’t anyone else’s fault he had gone too far. The way you looked up at him, the feeling of your hand on his body after he had just touched you, watched you move, he couldn’t help himself. He only hoped now that you felt the same way. 
“She could have taken something and that’s why you can’t reach her, right Namjoon-hung?” Jimin asked, running his fingers absentmindedly through the older’s hair.
“Mmm.” He grunted in affirmation. “She could also have a talisman or a barrier spell preventing me from getting in.” 
“So she’s probably fine,” Jimin said, voice calm.  
“Probably.” Namjoon agreed, sighing and allowing himself to slump fully onto Jimin, looking for comfort. 
“Well,” Hoseok chimed in. “Feeling bad or anxious isn’t particularly productive. Jinnie-hyung took things farther than he intended, but it sounds to me like she was probably okay with it. What probably freaked her out was you up and leaving without so much as an explanation like an antisocial weirdo. That would cause anyone to overthink.” 
“He’s got a point,” Yoongi said, his arms now draped over Jin’s shoulders, holding him in a back hug. 
“I know,” Jin said with a sigh. “If I could go back and do it differently, I would. But don’t you think by blocking us out she probably wants to be left alone?” 
“How would she know Joonie-hyung’s powers?” Jungkook said. An obvious question, perhaps, but a brief silence settles over the group. It is a good point. 
“The way I see it, we tell her or we don’t, and we need to decide which pretty quickly,” Hoseok said. 
“I would want to know if I were her,” Taehyung said. 
“Me too,” The group agreed. 
“So we offer a connection,” Yoongi began. “Contact her, apologize for being a weirdo, offer to meet up and explain some things.” 
Jin flinched at the weirdo comment. “Let her decide,” He said, “It’s not a bad idea.” 
“Then let's do it,” Taehyung said anxiously. “I hope she says yes.” 
“We all do,” Jimin said, grimly. “But now, we wait.” 
89 notes · View notes
hell-drabbles · 6 months
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Mammon 2
Summary: The amount of meat on Mammon’s thighs had you curious. Mammon is just happy–and a little frustrated–at your attention on them.
(Mammon has some meaty thighs huh?)
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“Huh,” you shrugged your shoulders to ease the oncoming soreness in them, “you don’t have stretch marks.”
Your fingers poked and prodded the place where his thighs curve into his hips. His robe was fully open, undone by Mammon himself in rather enthusiastic anticipation, but his upper body wasn’t really of interest to you right now. It’s his legs that grabbed your attention.
Mammon’s a pretty big man in both stature and sheer presence. Around him, you’ve seen demons either look him square in the eye or have their heads tilted down so low you think they can’t even see his toes. Either way, rarely is attention drawn to anything below his crotch. It can’t be helped, the flare of his chest, especially when compared to his thin waist, compels the eye to look at it.
“Do you want me to have them?” Mammon breathed out, tapping his knees against the sides of your neck for your attention, “You sound disappointed.”
“No, it’s not quite disappointment,” there was plenty of fat over his muscles, so you couldn’t help but give his inner thigh a light pinch. Mammon twitched and opened his legs wider. No underwear. Huh. “It’s just a little weird to me. Something I need to adjust to. I looked at all kinds of bodies just to see the little details in them for my books, so it’s weird to me to see someone of your size not have stretch marks on the soft parts.”
None on the stomach, none under his arms, or his back or neck. Not even on his inner thighs. Weird. Well, he is a devil but you’re pretty sure that even devils are subject to the side effects of puberty.
“So is it too weird for you to continue?” Mammon shrugged off the rest of his robe before sitting up, “I can fix that up real quick, if you want.”
“Get back on your back,” your tone went from simple musing to a solid command.
Mammon smiled with a shiver and rested his form on the poor creaking bed. He kept his mouth shut, not attempting to goad you as he knew he didn’t need to. Really, you appreciate his patience and ease.
Then, you remembered the things you bought the other day.
“Hold on a moment,” you pushed Mammon’s legs away and speed walked to your closet. You dug into a plastic bag and pulled out a simple pair of black thigh high socks with the most delicate white lace you have ever seen. “Look what I got you. I saw these in your size and I had to get them.”
“So, I am on your mind as much as you are in mine,” the way he crossed his arms under his head kind of irritated you. There he goes with his ego. He’s wanting a change in pace. He’s probably growing impatient then.
This quickly though? Ah, well, your fingers have been skimming over the dip where his thighs meet his ass.
“Isn’t it only natural to want to dress up my belongings?” You settled between his legs once more and started pulling the socks on him. “Can’t very well neglect you.”
Mammon didn’t resist. He even helped pull them up higher until they squished quite nicely against him. Honestly, you didn’t know if they would fit him or not. You half expected them to rip somewhere on the way up, but no. They’re holding up very well. The fabric gets more and more transparent as the sheer mass of his thighs spreads them thin. The lace pinches the flesh in such a way that it seems as though he’s overflowing from them.
You couldn’t help but touch where the socks end and where his thighs start. It’s a very interesting curve.
“Yup, this looks nice,” you nodded, entirely ignoring his shivering waist and jutting hips.
You gave a good smack to the side of his ass and watched as he nearly ripped the pillow under his head. A broken moan escaped his throat.
“Caught you off guard, huh?” You laughed.
Cute. Oh so cute. You’re going to drag this out for as long as possible. That is your right as his owner.
120 notes · View notes
murfpersonalblog · 3 days
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IWTV S2 Ep3 - Random Musings (Spoilers)
This was the best S2 ep by far; they're just getting better & better. I have so much to say; I can't even keep up. This is just the random stuff I don't have AS MUCH to comment on (yet).
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AMC, we GOTTA get some flashbacks of Papa DPDL. We know so much about Les' folks, but nothing about Lou's pops. :(
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Not "Real Rashid" going bar for bar vs Sartre abt morality & evil!? 👏
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"Wolf Wrangler," I hate this effing show so much, please stop it.
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SANTIAGO BACKSTORY LFG; we're finally being fed!
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Ohhhhh.... Francis "Santiago" Naughton, I see~! They're definitely leaning into the Sant-"iago" of it all from Othello--nice touch!
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1921--Santiago's a BABY vampire. (And omg he loved Annika's "performance" so much that he incorporated it into his regular lineup! Sickos! XD) I saw the Siophmedia review call it the Mimic Gift, which I love--expanding the AR lore.
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Thoughts & prayers to this dude, being stuck for all eternity as an old man; relegated to backstage work with the noob stuck for all eternity as a little girl. (Hilarious how this is in blatant violation/disregard of Marius & Rhosh's Great Law #2 about beauty.)
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Vampires sneeze?! 😂 Estelle is the ONLY Theatre vamp I like, bless!
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ROTFLMFAO. Humor on this show comes from the WILDEST of places; I love it.
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Someone's saaaaaaltyyyyyy~! 👀👀👀👀
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Welp, now we know where Louis'll spend "ETERNITY IN A BOX," when they drag him in that burlap sack.
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Louis' a strong independent man don't need no coven! 😤👏 Especially not you WEIRDOS. Monsieur LDPDL would NEVER allow anyone to make him act like a clownish BUFFOON on some stage, or write/film creepshows everyone points and laughs at, are you crazy?
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Louis said SKILL ISSUE. 💀
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Don't act coy now! XD You go and OWN your bussypowers, Louis of Troy! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
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I am STUNNED this trash liar won a Pulitzer for investigative journalism. Truly a dying industry.
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Armand, my love, you have no idea. 👀
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Deflection & misdirection, as usual with these vamps.
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SHADE.
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Roget the "FIRST" eh?... 🧛🏼 This completely removes Nicki as the founder of the Theatre, but I guess it makes sense that Armand would be the one communicating with Roget, cuz lord knows Nicki wasn't "fit to pick an apple off a tree in his current state...." 👀👐 Louis, Armand's fed you a crock of lies; don't be fooled by his pretty doe eyes! You were SET UP, my guy; he was SICK of that coven for hundreds of years; WAY b4 Lestat AND YOU showed up!
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Then he hangs Lestat's portrait on the wall as a shrine and says he's their co-founder, while breathing not a word about how Lestat gave the Theatre TO NICKI, NOT ARMAND. Where's Nicki at, Armand!? 👀👐 Where's Claudia at, Armand!? 👀☀️ Why do all of Lestat's fledglings go missing under YOUR supervision, Mr. I Could Not Prevent It? I swear, those 🥺👉👈 eyes are lethal weapons!
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STUNT QUEEN. Behind every gay man is a gayer, more evil man!
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And he took that PERSONALLY.
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Siri, google when butt-plugs were first invented.
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Armand's FACE! 😭 Yeah, Lou don't make a lick of sense sometimes. Thank god he's pretty! But for every ounce of pretty there's another TONNE of mental trauma. If I were Armand, I'd've cut my losses and left Lou's arse to "Bruce" right then & there. Now look at you!
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Incredible episode. 👏
Preview for Ep4:
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I hate it here. 😱
I'm sorry, but I simply CANNOT with Loumand, knowing what's coming. I never have, and at this rate I NEVER WILL! Armand, I don't care what weird dynamics you & Lou are always up to, but by putting your hands on MY daughter!? DISHONOR!
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Armand, Louis is right: you just earned yourself a spot on my hit list.
I'll rant about Loumand specifically in a separate post--this ep was A LOT, omg I'm exhausted.
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imperaptorfuriosa · 8 months
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RUTH'S CHAINSHIPPING FIC REC LIST ⛓️
as requested by @kidwars :)
im still fairly new here so im certain there is some great stuff i havent read yet (my reading list is STACKED) but these are some of my faves so far!!!!! i also went thro and tagged any authors who had their tumblr in their ao3 profile so i could say hi i love your work, but if anyone wants a tag removed (or added) just lmk
rematch by unstuckintime. time-loops are one of my all time favorite styles of fix-it so this fic is literally EVERYTHING!!
sleeping with ghosts by @adrianicsea . my other favorite type of au is a GHOST AU and this one is fantastic!! written by a beloved mutual, i read all 250k of it in like 3 days flat. it's addicting AND not even done yet. BONUS POINTS for trans adam!!!
heaven knows im miserable now by bleakmidwinter. lawrence asks adam to help with his PT/recovery at a remote cabin. adam's artistic side is given some focus. it's so damn good just read it.
to hold you again by TheFamousFireLadyM. IM OBSESSED WITH THIS FIC. i think about it OFTEN. it's all about lawrence's grief/guilt/obsession with adam. short and excellent. (not a fix-it)
Stop Bath by fakebodies ( @2x4swrites ) . adam finds that lawrence has been taking photos of him when he wasnt paying attention. it's so sweet, so good, i love it.
Can You Feel My Heart? by @vixenfur . i love that they are literally both like "wow gay sex feels so good, and that's weird because i'm definitely straight!" LMAO
Family Tree by @general-sleepy. ive read a whole bunch of adam as a step-dad fics and this one is one of my faves....i am a simple man and a perpetual sucker for family/domestic aus and im not apologizing for that.
i'd tell you everything; if you'd pick up that telephone by @whatifwekissedinthesawbathroom . lovely dialogue-only fic. i love the ones where adam and lawrence move in together first, THEN figure out that they are also in love and this fic is one that stands out in my brain from that genre.
you're the one (using me as a muse) by 10pintsofsacrifice ( @angeltrapz ). this one deals with the pressure of the media/press on adam, and ends with the sweetest fluff. it's so good <3
and 2 bonus coffinshipping recs too >:)
Strahm Dies at the End by unstuckintime. this fic singlehandedly converted me to hoffstrahm-ism. HILARIOUS opening. it's very dark but tbh? that's the way this dynamic works for me.
rushed like a dreadful wind by bleakmidwinter. still dark, but does have a happy ending. i know i just said i like my hoffstrahms to be evil and toxic but this fic really hit the spot. what can i say? i love when the 2 guys are chained together LMAO
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tqmies · 2 years
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My Roommate Sucks! | Yuta.
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Description. Your roommate was weird, but that’s normal. What’s not? The way his room is strictly off limits, the fact that he leaves at three in the morning, and keeps returning covered in blood. (Note: His suspicious hate for garlic) 
Pairings. Yuta Nakamoto x Fem!Reader
Genre.Comedy, Romance, Horror Themes (Vampires)
Warnings. Dark content (Villain Yuta), Smut (Not in this part), Mentions of Death, Fear, Suggestive
Word count. 5.9K
Note: Another NCT fic?! Yup! Please enjoy this one in the spirit of Halloween! :D Feedback is appreciated! 
YOU AND YUTA NAKAMOTO HAD BEEN RENTING THIS APARTMENT FOR THE PAST YEAR. Though you two weren’t particularly close, you knew a good amount about him. Enough to be absolutely certain he is a vampire. 
Though this just prompts Kim Doyoung to just laugh in your face. Clutching his stomach as he leans over. He only stops when he realizes you are in fact, one hundred percent, serious.
“This isn’t funny! Stop laughing.” You stomp, looking away embarrassed. 
“As concerned as I am for your safety,” He pauses to laugh. “I don’t think he’s a vampire.”
“Well explain this then!” You speak, shoving a paper diagram in his face. (Yes you made a diagram, you were quite passionate on the subject) 
It reads as followed.
Reasons Why I Believe I Live With a BloodSucker:
1. He sneaks out at 3 am most days (He thinks I don’t know, but oh, I know)
2. He comes back with red stains everywhere!! (Feeding time)
3. He hates garlic!! 
4. His room is always off limits. (He never even opens the door around me)
Doyoung bursts out laughing once again. “You can’t be serious.”
“Dead serious!”  
“These all have explanations.”
“I’m listening.”
“Okay, Yuta is a nurse. He works in a hospital, that means he’s on call. He could be summoned to work at odd hours, like 3 am.”
You shake your head, not buying it for a second. He was always extremely secretive when he left. And he never took his hospital ID with him.
“That also explains the blood on him when he comes back, you don’t know what he deals with at work. Maybe it comes off his scrubs.” Doyoung continues, you remaining unconvinced. “And lots of people don’t like garlic.”
“Yeah but you know who hates it? Vampires!” You muse.
He rolls his eyes and hands your paper back to you. “His room being off limits is normal. I don’t exactly let Taeyong invade my room as he pleases. Maybe the dudes just private about his stuff.” 
“But he’s so weird about it! And he comes into my room all the time to tell me dinners ready and stuff! Like that totally unfair.” 
“Double standards.” Doyoung comments, attention now fully on some video playing on his phone. He always did that when you rambled.
“You’re no help.” You pout. “And now I’m just gonna die at the hands of my supernatural roommate! And you’re going to be at my funeral wishing you had listened to me!”
“If he wanted you dead, don’t you think he would’ve killed you already?”
“Huh?”
“I mean, you are super annoying.” He rolls his eyes. “I would’ve definitely drained you of all life by now.”
You roll your eyes at him, not amused. You don’t know why you expected Doyoung to make any sense anyways.
“What? It’s the only explanation.” He stops suddenly. “Unless he just thinks you’ll taste nasty.”
Scoffing, you turn to point a finger at him. “I think I’d taste great, thank you very much.” 
“Wanna put that to the test?” Your other friend says as he rounds the corner, returning from the bathroom. Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at you.
“In your dreams.” Is your response, before beginning to poke fun at the male. “What took you so long, Jungwoo?”
“I was taking a shit.” 
“Gross!” You say, scrunching up your nose. You had suspicions but you’d never expect him to admit it. Though, he was never one to think before he speaks anyways.
“It’s a natural part of the human body!” He defends, looking at you like you’re the crazy one. 
“At least you got to miss another conspiracy.” Doyoung says, nodding towards you. 
This was quite a natural occurrence from you. You shudder at the thought of being convinced that this one cafe worker was a zombie. In your defense, he was sickly pale looking, and he did have a thing for Jungwoo. Which definitely meant he had no taste. He had to be undead to like Kim Jungwoo that much.
“What is it this time? You saw Bigfoot or something?”
“No-” 
“Apparently Yuta’s a vampire.” Doyoung states, cutting you off.
You stare at him, “Doyoung! You can’t just tell everyone! What if he finds out I’m onto him?”
“So you really think he’s a vampire?!”
“I think its a possibility!” 
“Really?” Jungwoo quirks a brow. “Well then hes going to be so confused when you’re the one doing the sucking.”
Launching a pillow at him, you gag. The boys always insinuated you and Yuta had more going on. Though everything was literally as it seemed. It was a purely platonic roommate relationship. Barely ever speaking more than just discussing the bills or that rent had gone up. There was nothing there.
Before Jungwoo can open his big mouth again, you can faintly hear the sound of keys unlocking the door. Signaling that this conversation was now over, shushing them to your room. You quickly grab the paper from earlier and crumple it in your pocket. 
“Hey,” Yuta says as he walks into the living room. “I was going to ask if you were hungry. Wanted to order some food.”
You nod your head in understanding, though you decline his offer. “Jungwoo and Doyoung are over, we were gonna go eat together.”
“Oh they’re here?” He asks, not having seen any sign of them. 
“Yeah, they’re in my room.” 
“Oh okay, well if you need to be picked up or anything, you can call me.”
“Thank you,” You say. About to turn when you start to feel guilty. You seemed to always bail on Yuta like this lately. Usually always heading out to meet the boys when he gets home. It wasn’t on purpose, it just had been busy. 
And the boys were always a much needed relief from a day of your boss yelling at you over a printer that you couldn’t fix. 
You had became close with Doyoung during your school years, you two worked at the library. Being around the same age, you two bonded instantly. Talking about books and such until your hangouts gradually began to happen outside of the library as well. You two had met Jungwoo at a cafe. He was always talking about the latest work gossip and how badly he hated his job. From there, you all just started meeting at the cafe to hangout. Eventually growing into the inseparable friendship you had now. 
But Yuta didn’t seem to really have anyone like that. Opting to spend a good chunk of his time alone at the house when you were out. He had friends over a few times, but you’ve never seen one more than once. Except Mark, the only boy who would ever acknowledge you when he came over. But you hadn't seen even him in a while. Yuta must be really busy.
“Would you maybe wanna join us?” You turn around. “I know work was long and such, so if you just want to stay home, no offense taken.” 
“I don’t want to intrude.” He smiles, you understand the feeling but nonetheless, the boys wouldn't mind him at all. 
“You’re not,” You shake your head. “I promise we’d all love to have you.”
He thinks for a minute, looking down to the floor. And you won’t be surprised if he completely rejects your offer. “Okay, let me go get me coat then.” He agrees, heading towards his room, leaving you in shock. That was new.
Rushing to your room, you tell the boys of Yuta joining you at dinner.
“Yay! Now we can we expand our open relationship.” Jungwoo laughs, wiggling his eyebrows at Doyoung.
“We are not dating, Jungwoo!” Doyoung groans, smacking his palm to his forehead.
Jungwoo always joked about all of you being a throuple, and you’re still not even sure what the origin of the joke was. As far as you knew, none of you had ever been interested in each other. It still didn’t stop him though.
He’s even told a few waiters who pried too far, watching their reactions hilariously. And you had to admit, it was kind of funny at times.
Especially when this creep was hitting on you at a club, and suddenly, you had two boyfriends who were willing to beat his ass.
“None of that nonsense tonight,” Rolling your eyes. “I don’t need Yuta telling his hot friends that I’m stuck in a relationship.”
“His vampire friends?” 
“Shut the hell up.” 
“Oh so when we bring it up, its weird?”
You shoot them both a death stare, “Mention my theory to Yuta and I’ll cut your balls clean off.”
“Yeah but to do that you’d have to look at my dick! And trust me, once you see it-” Jungwoo starts but is interrupted as you start fake strangling him, straddling him on your bed.
“Stop! He probably likes it!” Doyoung laughs, eyes growing big. And Jungwoo, being the little freak he was, probably did. You put nothing past him.
“Would it kill you to be quiet for once!” You speak to the boy beneath you, “You’re so annoying!”
Jungwoo, rolls his eyes, then starts loudly fake moaning. This only feeds into you and Doyoungs theory of him being the freakiest little male alive. 
Then, as if on cue, Yuta enters your room. Looking taken aback at the scene before him, he hurries to head back out, closing the door. “Oh sorry, the door was open so I thought-”
You frantically get off Jungwoo, completely embarrassed that Yuta saw you like this. Doyoung just sits stiffly, hoping to be spared the embarrassment. 
“No no, we weren’t doing anything!” You say, opening the door. Waving your hands and laughing awkwardly. Hoping he didn’t see too much.
“Yeah it’s not what it looks like.” Doyoung says, hoping to ease the tension.
Yuta laughs, about to drop the conversation when Jungwoo speaks up. “Yeah I definitely wasn’t humping your roommate while Doyoung watched.”
You wish you could sew a zipper onto his mouth.
“Jungwoo!”
Though Yuta takes it as a joke, chuckling lightly, “We should head out.”
As you all get up you make sure to slap Jungwoo on the arm, making him wince in pain. Pouting and acting like it wasn’t well deserved.
You all decide to take Doyoung’s car, and he insists that Jungwoo sits in the passengers side. Leaving you and Yuta snug in the back of the tiny car. Which is fine, its not like you mind anyways. He just stares out the window the whole time anyways, barely saying anything. 
The car ride is actually mostly quiet, which is unusual for your friends. Because both of them feel too embarrassed (Doyoung) and unsure (Jungwoo) to say anything.
You all had settled on eating dumplings before hand, prompting you to the best dumpling spot in town, which was a hole-in-the-wall place. Yuta looks unaffected by your choice though, following behind the three of you.
You silently hope for this incredibly awkward energy to dissipate. You all had taken your seats in silence, your two friends pretending to be engrossed with the menu choices, as if you hadn't been here a million times before.
You and Yuta sit next to each other, Jungwoo across from you and Doyoung next to him. But no one says a word to anyone else at the table. 
You realize maybe you should have asked them if it was okay to invite Yuta, you figured it wouldn’t be an issue, but they had barely ever talked to him before. Every time they were over, you would all just stay holed up in your room, and Yuta never went out of his way to talk to them either. This would be their first real time hanging out together.
You shuffle in your seat, thinking of something to say to break the silence. 
But Jungwoo beats you to it. 
“So Yuta, do you know what you want to order?” He asks, and you’re unsure where he’s going with it. “They have amazing chicken and garlic dumplings.”
“Ah,” Yuta starts. “Sound great but I don’t like garlic.”
You widen your eyes at Jungwoo, pleading with him silently to stop. Was he going to do this right now? Doyoung notices your expression, and promptly pinches the male beside him.
“Ouch!” Jungwoo exclaims, rubbing his arm. “What was that for?”
“What was what for?” Doyoung asks, playing dumb. Yuta looks between the two of them, genuinely confused. 
“You idiot, you pinched me!” 
“Quit whining!” You speak up. “Hurry up and figure out what you want to drink! We’re not going to wait here for ten minutes like we did last time.”
Jungwoo narrows his eyes at that, “You’re both bullies.”
The waitress comes and takes your orders swiftly, taking the menus and leaving you four to your own devices.
“So,” Yuta begins, and nothing could prepare you for what he said next. “How long have you all been dating?”
Your heart stops for a second, turning to face him in disbelief. “D-dating?”
“For six months,” Jungwoo winks, not missing a beat. “Her and Doyoung were dating first actually-”
“No! We weren’t, he’s lying.” Doyoung interjects sternly, rolling his eyes.
“Okay I lied, actually Doyoung and I were dating first and then-”
It’s you who cuts him off this time. “None of us are dating, Jungwoo just likes to lie to new people. It’s his thing, he likes to see how far he can get with it.”
Yuta looks confused at the prospect. “Wait so you’re not in a poly relationship?”
“No.” You confirm. “Doyoung can’t take a hint and Jungwoo is a slut who can’t commit. I could never date them, it’d never work out.”
Jungwoo’s jaw drops at the statement, “Me?”
And Doyoung’s eyes widen as well, “That’s not true!”
Yuta finds it all amusing as he hides his laughter in his drink. “Sorry, I overheard Jungwoo one day and just assumed it was true.”
You cringe at the thought, “Jungwoo just likes to say shit.”
“You’re right.” Jungwoo explains, looking over at the other male beside him. “Plus, Doyoung has a stick up his ass anyways, he couldn’t handle us.”
“Yeah okay, fuck you too.”
You all laugh at his comment and you’re all reeled into other conversations. The tension that had remained before being eased, no longer feeling an air of uncomfortably here. You just feel into a rhythm with each other, and you regret that this was the first time you’ve all hung out with Yuta, and you hope it happens again. 
The dumplings arrive and you all get to work, you hadn’t even realized how hungry you were, so you attention is drawn solely to your food. Failing to see how Yuta barely eats anything, consistently scooping and putting down his spoon to create the illusion of it. 
But then again, you fail to notice. 
So do Jungwoo and Doyoung, who are pretty drunk already. Doyoung ranting on about this hot girl at the office who he swears like to tease him. Jungwoo replying to say that Doyoung just has no game, prompting another bickering session between them. You laugh on, pouring you all more alcohol from the bottle sitting on your table. The boys pausing their argument to ask for more. 
You all don’t even register how much you’re drinking, the liquid so smooth it goes down almost like water. And the effects barely catching up to you.
You offer Yuta some and he declines, saying someone needed to drive you all home. You nod and thank him, how generous and kind of him, so sweet. 
It get’s late pretty quickly, and Doyoung suggests you all head back to your place, you just agree, ready to climb into your warm bed with lots of water.
It’s not uncommon for the guys to stay the night, they’ve grown accustom to sleeping on your floor and on the tiny chair in your room, it just worked. 
So Yuta drives you all home, stone cold sober and completely aware he was driving around three trashed people in a car that wasn’t even his at midnight. He prayed he didn’t get pulled over.
You’re all able to make it up to your apartment room, Doyoung and Jungwoo hanging off of each other for stability, you being sober enough to stand upright.
They make a beeline for your room as you enter, you stopping in the kitchen to grab some hangover medicine and bottles of water. 
Yuta stands in the kitchen with you, he found it sweet how much you cared for your friends. It was endearing how you always thought of them too.
“Thanks for tonight Yuta, we had fun.” 
“I can tell.” He laughs, raising his eyebrows at you.
You just sleepily nod and head to your room, closing the door behind you.
-
You’re awoken by a throbbing headache, and Jungwoo’s leg strewn over you. How did he even get on the bed? You were sure he was on the floor. But those thoughts are derailed as you feel Doyoung laying sideways at the end of your bed. His light snores indicating he’s still fast asleep. You sigh.
The last thing you want to do is get up, but as you reach for your phone and see the time, you realize you’ve wasted most of your day. So you contemplate continuing to stay in bed or getting up and trying to make the most of the rest of your Saturday. The latter wins, as you achingly remove the sheets off your body. 
Jungwoo stirs from beside you and groans, which wakes Doyoung as he nearly falls off the bed. Jungwoo steadily fights to open his eyes, clearly hungover.
Standing to stretch, you look at the two boys. “You guys look like shit.”
Doyoung laughs, “Right back at you.”
“Should’ve taken the Advil like I said.” You laugh and go to start the shower in your room, glad that you don’t have to step out into the apartment in this state.
That’s when the boys fumble behind you. Doyoung begrudgingly asks for his keys while Jungwoo hangs off his shoulder, and you shrug. You had no idea what Yuta did with them when you guys got back.
“Go knock on his door.” Jungwoo insists, “I want to get home, I need a shower.”
You roll your eyes as you head out of your room, slowly approaching Yuta’s You knock on the door. Once. Twice. No response. “Yuta! Are you home?” 
And you’re met with silence, he must’ve gone to work, his schedule was pretty unpredictable. But its odd, hes usually here in the morning. Well, maybe he had to trade shifts and he’ll back tonight. 
Though this leaves you with a problem, you have no idea where your friends keys are. And if Yuta’s at work, he won’t be anywhere near his phone.
Heading back into your room, you stand at the door. “He’s not here.”
“Call him?”
“I can.” You answer. Though, as expected, you go straight to voicemail.
Doyoung groans, “I’ll look around for the keys, maybe he left them on the counter or something.”
You wave him off. That’s when you think, Yuta probably just left them in his room. Maybe on his desk? But you can’t go into his room. No, he’d hate that.
Is this an invasion of privacy? You think as you stand outside of his door. Truth be told, you were very curious, and Doyoung’s keys sounded like a good excuse to trespass into his room. But Yuta’s always been awkward about his room, and you respected his wishes. Figuring maybe he had something embarrassing in there, you look down. 
You twist the doorknob, and you’re met with a dark room. You can hardly see anything, as the blinds are shut and the lights off. You move to turn the lights on, annoyed with the sight before you.
It was a completely normal room. 
Similar layout to yours, a desk and a chair with a plush full bed in the corner. Nothing was off about the scene before you, and you find that weird. 
But then it hits you.
The smell.
It smelled horrible, almost like a dead animal. And sure, you knew men were filthy, but it smelled like something was straight up rotting in there.
You gag at the stench, clasping your nose to revert the smell away. Moving to enter his room, you notice Doyoung’s keys on the desk. He had likely just thrown them there when he entered and forget they weren’t his. 
You quickly grab them, shut off the lights, and click the door behind you. 
As you stand in the hallway, you notice something weird. 
The room was clean, the bed was made, and everything was neat. It was as if no one lived in there, like no one had slept in that bed in years. 
Also, if it was so clean, why did it stink so bad?
You had to write this down on your diagram, where was it anyways? 
You’re derailed from finding it as Doyoung finds you, grabbing the keys from your hands. “Wanna meet up later? After my nap?” 
And you consider it, but you’ve had enough of the boys for a bit, so you shake your head. “I’m tired, probably gonna just chill here.”
Doyoung nods in understanding, before putting on a teasing smile. “Sure you wanna stay in all day with the vampire?”
You narrow your eyes, “He’ll probably sleep all day, work’s tiring.” 
“Fair enough.”
And with protest of Jungwoo, Doyoung exits the house with the younger in tow. Complaining about how you can’t hang and that he hopes Yuta sucks your blood. You sigh, they would never believe you.
And you doubt yourself too, somewhat. But the puzzle pieces are all fitting together suspiciously well. Anyways, you’re just glad you’re alone and that you get to shower peacefully now. 
And it was definitely what you needed, seeing as you’re sure Jungwoo drooled in your hair, but that was a matter for another time. 
Realizing you had yet to eat, you head straight to the kitchen, ready to make yourself something good. (Knowing you’d just probably settle for one of the ramen packets in the pantry.)
Though when you arrive, you’re startled to see Yuta, drinking a glass of water.
“Hey,” You speak up. “I didn’t hear you come in. Or leave this morning..”
“Yeah, they called me last night actually. I was going to tell you, but you were knocked out, and I didn’t want to wake your friends.” He explains.
So it was exactly like you had thought, but this meant he would be home for the rest of the day. Just lazing around the house, with you. Alone.
“I invited some friends over,” He speaks. Oh? That was kind of unusual. “I hope its not a big deal.”
“What? No, wouldn’t it be hypocritical of me to be mad when Doyoung and Jungwoo practically live here?” You laugh. 
“Speaking of them,” He interjects, “Did they get home okay?”
The color drains from your face as you remember earlier. He was onto you. He knew, he definitely knew you went into his room. And he would not be happy.
“Uh yeah, Doyoung’s keys were on the counter so he just took them and left.” You lie, hoping he didn’t suspect you.
And he didn’t seem any the wiser, simply nodding at your statement. He likely didn’t even remember where he left them anyways, as he went straight to work. You hope he was too distracted to recall that where he’d left them.
“Cool,” He places his cup in the sink. “I’m going to nap, but wake me when they get here?” 
You agree and he heads to his room, not sparing you a second glance. You release a breath, glad you didn’t give away that you broke his most important room mate rule. Anyways, now was definitely the time for ramen. 
-
You hadn't even realized how much time had passed since you started watching this show. You spent three hours watching Netflix after devouring your bowl and nursing your favorite juice. You were only awaken from your trance when there was a knock on your apartment door, likely Yuta’s friends.
After jumping off the couch and scrambling to your feet, you go to open the door. Surprised (but not really) to see two unfamiliar faces looking back at you.
One is slender and has soft black eyeliner around his eyes, cute. The taller of the two is more innocent looking, though his smile and good looks tells you he’s likely troublesome. 
You open your mouth to speak but the cute one beats you to it. 
“Is Yuta here?”
“He’s asleep.”
“Well, wake him.” The taller remarks, and you want to hold you breath and hope you die.
You weren’t too good with men in general, but teasingly rude ones? Yeah these definitely weren’t your type of guys.
You just stutter, feet planted to the floor. “Y-yeah I’ll go-” 
The smaller one speaks up, “Don’t mind Jaehyun, he’s moody, hasn't eaten.”
You just nod, smiling awkwardly. The nice thing to do would be to offer to cook, but these were Yuta’s friends and not yours. He’d just have to do it. 
“I’m Taeyong, a friend of Yuta’s.” He extends his hand for you to shake, and you do gladly. “The asshole’s name is Jaehyun.” And the other groans.
“I’m not an asshole.” 
The two begin bickering but Jaehyun’s soon cut off by Taeyong, “Anyways, Yuta didn’t tell us he had such a pretty girlfriend.”
You want to sink into the ground beneath you, shaking your hands, you deny. “Oh no, we just live together.”
“Just live together? You’re not friends?” Jaehyun interrogates.
“Uh..” You trail, not knowing how to respond. Were you guys considered friends? You just decide to change the subject. “Why don’t you guys come in? I’ll go wake Yuta.”
You close the door behind them and show them to the living room, then heading to the hallway where your rooms are located. Stopping in front of Yuta’s door, you knock. No response. So you knock again, to no avail.
“Your friends are here, Yuta!” You yell, and you hear movement in his room.
After a shuffle, you see him pull his door open, just enough for him to slip through and close it behind him. So suspicious, like he was hiding something in there, even though you had known better.
You shrug it off, “I’ll be in my room.”
“Okay.” He says, used to you keeping to yourself, nothing out of the ordinary. 
Turning to head to your room, you’re held back by another voice. “Going to hide?” It’s Jaehyun, appearing in the hallway as he leans against the wall. “Don’t wanna hang around us?
You don’t know what to say, caught off guard by his question.
Good thing Yuta answers for you. “Leave her alone.” 
“My bad, didn’t realize she was an exception.” 
What was that supposed to mean? 
Yuta just looks at you, “Sorry about him.”
You wave him off, “Its okay! You know what? I think I’m going over to Doyoung’s! He asked me to swing by.” Uttering the most convincing excuse you could come up with, but Yuta nods.
“Alright, be safe.”
You just thank him and run to get a sweater and a pair of shoes from your room. Ready to be free of the suffocating atmosphere of this apartment.
You pass Jaehyun on the way out, still in the hallway and he shoots you a look, one that you can’t decipher. But you weren’t going to stick around and find out what it meant anyways.
Taeyong bids you goodbye as you head out, telling you he’d like to visit again.
You wonder if he’ll actually make good on that promise.
Once you’ve made it to your car, you pull your phone and begin rapidly typing for Doyoung’s number. 
He picks up on the first ring. 
“Hello?”
“Doyoung! I’m coming over!”
“Now?
“Yes! Now!”
“But I thought-”
“Yeah that was before Yuta’s friends came over.”
And the other side of the line is silent, Doyoung understanding what you meant. “I’ll order food, but you’re paying when it gets here.”
“Understood.” And you hear the fade out of the call. 
Of course this had to happen on what was supposed to be a relaxing Saturday in. You just sigh and start your car, eager to be away from the three men currently in your apartment.
To your surprise, Jungwoo’s already over when you arrive. He said Doyoung called saying something was wrong and you roll your eyes.
“Doyoung’s being dramatic, I just didn’t wanna stay in there with Yuta and some strangers.”
Jungwoo nods in understanding. “Were they hot?”
You whip your head around to face him, “Are you serious?”
He places his hands up in defeat. “Okay okay, sorry.” 
You just laugh as you enter Doyoung’s kitchen, digging through the cabinet for a snack. Jungwoo reaching over you to grab a cup form the cupboard. 
“You two are just leeches.” Doyoung says, coming to check what the commotion was. 
“Yup, that’s me.” You agree, and he chuckles in response. 
“Are you staying the night?” He nudges. 
“No, I better go home.” And he nods. “
“As long as you take Jungwoo with you.”
“Hell no.” 
“Hey! What’s wrong with me?!” 
“Do you really want us to answer that?”
And as the kitchen erupts in laughter, you wish you could save this moment forever. They really were you best friends, always dependable and always here for you. You’d be lost without them.
These thoughts re-enter your mind as the subpar movie you were all currently watching rolls the end credits. You’re running your hands through Doyoung’s hair as he lays on your lap, Jungwoo fast asleep as he leans on his side.
All these two did was sleep, you think. Moving to check the time, you realize it’s gotten kind of late. You decide to head home, the comfort of your bed being more tempting that your friends couch. 
Helping him up, he groans at being moved. But still see’s you out to his door. “I’m going to dump water on Jungwoo’s head and make him go home.”
“Sure.” You giggle sarcastically. 
“Have a safe trip home.”
“Thank you.”
-
Unlocking the door to your house, you’re met with silence as you open it. 
“Yuta?” You call out, but are given no response. He must’ve went out with the other two. You shrug your shoulders. 
Walking through the hall, you step into the living room to see Yuta. 
He’s just standing there, like he was anticipating your arrival. 
“Oh hey,” You speak, somewhat off. “Did the guys go home?”
“I know,” He interrupts, your blood running cold. He’s dead serious too, which wipes the previous smile off your face.
“What?”
“I know what you think I am.”
You’re ready to deny it, to try and smooth things over. To say that he’s got it all wrong, whatever he’s thinking. You struggle to find the words though.
Until he pulls a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. “Found this under the couch.” 
You recognized it instantly, your diagram.
You wave your hands, “Oh no no, that was a joke! I don’t actually think that.”
Why did you have to do that? You went and ruined a perfectly good living situation with a guy who was respectful and clean. Now he was probably going to throw you out, creeped out by your observations and theories of him. 
He probably hated you now, for thinking something so vile of him. He probably thought you were stupid too, who would think that? 
You’re about to spill out a string of apologies when he motions for you to be quiet. 
“Well,” He says, taking a seat on the couch. “You figured it out.”
And you feel your jaw go slack. 
What did he mean?
He just laughs at your speechless form, “You’re smarter than I thought, the others never caught on.”
And you’re completely confused. “O-others?” 
“Did you ever wonder why I was looking for a room mate?” And he continues when you don’t respond. “Cause I killed the previous one.”
You want to throw up.
“And the one before that, and the one before that.” He continues, as if its all just one big joke. And you hope it is. Maybe he was just messing with you? Because there was no way. No way, right?
Yuta? The Yuta right in front of you, was a vampire? A real, living vampire? 
“What a shame though, I was going to keep you. Until I found out you were snooping in my room. Just as I thought we were becoming friends too.” He laughs out, but not his normal one, no this one is laced with some kind of evil.
How had he found out? He had remembered where he left the keys then.
“I’ve had to stop all my friends from feeding on you,” He speaks, you backing up into the corner. “Jaehyun and Taeyong are the oldest of us, and they came demanding to know why you weren’t dead yet. That’s why they called you the exception.” 
So he was looking out for you? What was he going to do to you now? 
Were you going to die? Fear washes over your body at that, trying to figure out if you could make it out the front door before Yuta could catch you. You deduced that you probably couldn’t, but you should try anyways.
“Nothing to say?” Yuta asks.
And your attention is drawn back to him, “I..” 
“Tell me,” He inquires. “How hard do you think it was to hold back from killing your friends? Knowing they were touching what I claimed. Made me look like an idiot when everyone else could smell them on you. Vampires have a keen sense of smell too, you know?”
Your back hits the wall as he stands up. Why was he telling you this? If he was going to kill you, why was he wasting so much time? 
But after registering his words, you knew you couldn’t let him touch your friends. They didn’t deserve any of that.
“Please don’t do anything to them,” You beg. “Please.” 
He scoffs, “Here you are, about to die at the hands of a supernatural being, and all you’re worried about is Doyoung and Jungwoo.”
You look around nervously, “I’m going to die?” You confirm.
“Not really.”
“What?” You let out meekly, as he approaches you closer.
“I’m going to turn you.”
“No!” You shout. You couldn’t, there’s no way you could live life that way. Much less an eternal life, you’d rather die, here and now. 
You’re barely able to protest before he sinks his teeth into your neck, your breath stilling. You hoped maybe he would miscalculate, that maybe he would just accidentally kill you instead. 
All you can do is stand there and wince in pain as he draws blood from you. At this point, you’re hoping to be dead. 
You don’t want to know what turning into a vampire entails. 
But it looks like you were going to find out.
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