#I dunno man I had art block and this helped me get out of it lol

[southpauz]

They’re dating, your honor

#my art #my sketches #I dunno man I had art block and this helped me get out of it lol

[binniesthighs]

❆on a winter’s day | reader x hyunjin |❆

Pairing: self insert, female reader x hwang hyunjin

Genre: the fluffiest smut

Tags: confident!reader, shy!hyunjin, extrovert!reader, introvert!hyunjin, virgin!hyunjin, dancer!reader, dancer!hyunjin minho and jisung side characters, minsung if you turn your head upside down, slow burn, that sweet sweet build up, first time, meet cute, college au, sexual tension, mentions of food, praising, oral (m&f recieving), marking, fingering (f recieving), protected sex, aftercare, hyunjin is the softest boi in this one

Word count: 4.3k

Requested: By a lovely anon! You can read the original ask/post right before this one! 

“and five, six, seven, eight!”

The cool of the hardwood flooring beneath your tired heels squeaked from the movement of twenty dancers throwing their bodies to the left. Each and every one of you were reflected in the mirror in front of you: bodies twisting like the curl of a ribbon and arms outstretched. You winced as your knee hit the ground and you hurled your body into a type of somersault. As soon as you were back on your feet, you bent your spine backwards reaching out as far behind you as you could. For a couple moments, the whole world was turned upside down.

It was then when you saw him. His silver hair was tied up, and his brow glistened with sweat. There was nothing else in his eyes other than pure focus.

It was breathtaking.

one, two, you counted in your head.

Next came the hardest part.    

Everyone leapt in sync, creating a resonating thud once you all landed.

Thank God that you landed it that time. To your right, your friend Minho scoffed slightly, likely teasing you for finally jumping at the same time as everyone else.

three, four

The group crashed down to the floor again, this time you had to use all your strength to roll, then pull yourself up without help from your hands. You had been practicing it for weeks.

You could feel Minho’s eyes boring into you while you attempted.  

You were able to do it, but it wasn’t nearly as fluid as him. How had you never noticed how amazingly his body flowed?

“and five, six!” Your instructor clapped. The music faded as you all sunk down to the floor again, trying to make it appear as if you were dissipating into it. “Very good job everyone!” She beamed and applauded you all who finally let your heaving breaths be heard. “Excellent improvement from you all!”

You couldn’t even stand up from the floor you were so exhausted. The aggressive florescent lights burned your eyes and you considered taking a nap right there.

“You did it!” A foot kicked you. Looming over you were your two friends Minho and Jisung shoving towels onto each other’s faces. “Were you counting like I told you to do?” Minho expectantly leaned in.

“yes,” You answered a little annoyed, not as much at him, but at yourself. You could have done even better.

“We told you that you could do it. It’s just the mental block man.” Jisung offered you a hand up.

Once you were vertical again, a little wave of dizziness hit you.

“Wanna go out to celebrate?”

Your usual friend group circled around you with their bags in hand.

“Finally got it this time, L/n?” They patted you on the back. Besides hip-hop being your specialty in a contemporary class, you still seemed to get along with everyone easily. On the first day of class when you literally announced that you didn’t want to be there, everyone warmed up to you pretty quickly. You didn’t want to lie and pretend that you were all about throwing your body around like that. Of course you thought contemporary was beautiful, just not your thing. Graduation requirements said otherwise.

“Do you need me to carry you outta here?” Jisung joked at your dazed expression. Truthfully, your head was still spinning a little.

“Only very certain people get to carry me Han Jisung, and unfortunately you are not one of them.” You quipped back, and a few of your friends snarked chuckles at him.

He put his hands up in defeat. “I was just offering.”

Across the room, your eyes found him again. He had put his bag a bit of ways away from everyone else’s. He guzzled down his water, bobbing his sharp Adam’s apple. He then tore his hair tie out and ruffled his hair around which was damp at the roots. Everything that he did was so effortless.

“Hey,” you nudged Minho, “You know who he is?”

“Him? That’s Hwang Hyunjin. I dunno much about him, he’s pretty quiet, I haven’t heard much about him within the school either. Amazing dancer though. Have you seen him?”

“Yeah...”

Hyunjin pulled a black pullover past his head.

“You coming with us?” Minho snapped you back.

“No-uh, I think that I’m gonna stay a little while.”

“Suit yourself, I know that it’s gonna be delicious.” He teased and turned to throw his arm around Jisung while the group walked out.

The silvery-haired boy zipped up his bag as if he was near leaving. Your throat became unexplainably tight. Your legs started moving towards him before you could tell them to.

“You popped up behind him. “Hyunjin, right?”

He whipped around startled, with his gorgeous brown eyes widening. “...yes?”

“I wanted to tell you that I saw you dancing today and you’re really good. It looks like its so easy for you. I wish that I could be like that.”

“Oh...thank you.” He gave you a kind smile.

shit, he was so cute.

“Soooo, what’s your secret?” You attempted to keep him there for just a moment longer.

“My secret?” His eyes became puzzled.

“Yeah, like, to how you’ve gotten so good?”

“I just...practice.”

“Huh...”

The door to the practice room clicked one last time and the two of you were alone.

“I noticed that all of your moves flow really nicely to the next, you’re not stiff at all, it’s like your body never stops evolving with the motions.”

“thank you...” Hyunjin hushed shyly and twiddled with his hair.

“Maybe you could teach me? Teach me how to make my technique better? I’m just so robotic sometimes.”

“...sure.” He hesitantly said with a growing tiny grin. “Like right now?”

“Oh! I mean it doesn’t have to be right now right now, just like when you have some time I was thinking.”

“I have a little time right now.” He began taking off his coat which he had just put on.

“Oh really?” You felt your cheeks get a little warm. You certainly weren’t expecting him to say yes so quickly.

“Do-do you have time?” He worriedly asked.

“--Yeah!”

“Okay...let’s get started then.”

✦✧✦✧

The music from Hyunjin’s phone echoed over the speakers and you attempted the twirls again. You were able to execute the timing, but each one felt more inelastic than the last. God, your whole body was aching to stop, but it couldn’t get enough of the feeling of him watching you and observing your every movement.

“What should I change about it this time?” You struggled to take in breaths.

Hyunjin looked you up and down, with that same focus from before. With someone as picturesque as him, he looked a little stern when he examined you, which scared you a little, but excited you at the same time.

“You need to take the strain out of your hips, they’re geting in the way you need to let you whole body fall into it. Focus on your legs. Like this:”

He spun in front of you with his leg pointed out. With the twist of his body his silver hair swept along with him.

“You know what I mean?” He gently asked.

“--yes, I think so.”

“Your hips are your anchor, but don’t let them stop you.” Hyunjin stepped up closer to you, hesitantly going to grab your waist with his hands. It was then when you realized how big and powerful they were. His sudden gesture made your heart beat even faster than it already was.

“Pivot like...this.” He turned you a little to the left.

“Oh.”

He lead your hips into the pivot a couple more times to show you. His hands were so warm.

He quickly removed his hands, embarrassed, like he had been doing something he should not have been. He walked away from you and you took notice of his shoulder blades curving under the thin fabric of his sleeveless shirt.

“Do you wanna stop now? I think I’ve done as much as I can for today.”

He nodded and removed his phone from the sound system.

✦✧✦✧

Outside of the arts building, snow had picked back up again after flurrying the whole night long. Everything around had been covered in a beautiful blanket of white.

“Well, I’m headed off this way.” You head nodded to your bus station a couple blocks down. “Thank you for helping me by the way.”

“For sure! I...liked helping you out.”

“Really?”

Hyunjin immediately made a startled little face upon realizing what he had said and you laughed a little at him.

He pulled his chunky scarf up higher to his chin. “Actually...I um, live down that way too.”

“Do you take the 12 bus too?”

He nodded. Little snowflakes had begun to get caught in his hair like a little halo.

“Well then let’s get going! We don’t wanna miss the last bus!”

✦✧✦✧

It was rush hour, so naturally the two of you had to stand on the bus of packed people. The air inside was chilly and it smelled of old dusty coats that had just recently been taken out for the fist snow. You thought it was a little funny how every five seconds or so someone would sniffle in there.

“I’ve seen you in class too.” Hyunjin finally said something after a while of you two being pushed pretty close next to eachother. “Dancing and other stuff, everyone really seems to like you, you’re really good at making people laugh.”

“Oh. Thanks.” You didn’t quite know how to respond to him. “I don’t really have a problem putting myself out there much, I’ve always really believed in just being me, you know? And not letting others determine who I am around them. That or maybe I just like the sound of my own voice.”

He giggled a little then pulled the string nearby the window.

stop requested.  The robot bus voice said.

“You’re not stalking me or anything are you?” You rose an eyebrow at him, which scared him more that you had expected.

“No..? What do you mean?”

“This is my stop too.”

Your boots crunched into the snow of the side walk and you thanked the bus driver. Hyunjin got off after you with his hands in his pockets. The two of you stood there in the snow for a moment, something weirdly unsaid lingering between the two of you. Something felt unfinished but you couldn’t quite figure out what it was. He genuinely was so sweet, you sneakily wanted to be around him for just a little longer.

Hyunjin stammered, but confidently got out, “Do you want to get something to eat? Right now?”

It was if he had read your mind. You were glad that he had asked, and a little surprised too. He waited attentively for you to answer, still looking a little nervous; even looking like that he was terribly adorable.

“I’d love to.” You smiled back at him causing him to sigh in relief.

“Is there anywhere that you like?” He led the both of you on.

You pondered for a moment, then remembered. You cringed out the words, “Actually...I really shouldn’t be spending money right now; I need to get a lot better at saving...”

You almost slapped yourself in the face after saying such a thing and seeing how crestfallen he had become. It was true, but technically he didn’t need to know that.

“Or! I mean, we could go to my place and I could I dunno, whip something up? I should have something...”

“Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to be eating away your food.”

“No really! It’s fine, come on, I’m just down this block.”

✦✧✦✧

It was only seconds before you opened the door to your apartment that you remembered how embarrassingly messy it was. You and your two roommates were the best of friends, but horribly matched when it came to being cleanly. The three of you just chalked it up to you all being “creative minds.” You all went to arts school after all.

“Just...don’t look--sorry, it’s really messy in there, I wasn’t really expecting to bring anyone over.”

“I don’t care.” Hyunjin politely said and watched you unlock the door.

“We just call it creative madness.”

When you walked in even you tried hard to not look at the mess and got straight to work rummaging around your cabinets.

“Does spaghetti with sauce sound good?”

He nodded and neatly arranged his coat, shoes and bag at the door.

He wandered over to the large windows of your living area. “You have a really nice view.”

“Ah thanks,” You clicked on the stove. “Makes the price of the rent worth it,” you lowered your voice “fuckin’ swindlers.”

Your eyes wandered to the island in your kitchen full of all kinds of crap: baking supplies, art supplies, old mail, textbooks, mismatched pairs of gloves.

“It would probably be best if we ate in my room,” You let up. “You can barely sit here.”

Hyunjin nodded and turned to keep watching the snow peacefully. While you cooked, he didn’t say much but you couldn’t keep his eyes off of him, nearly burning yourself on the saucepan. He changed the room by just merely exisiting in it. You truly couldn’t imagine how you had never noticed him before.

✦✧✦✧

“Thank you for cooking for me, that was really good.”

You waved his compliment off with the swipe of your hand. “It’s really nothing, you should see my roommate, she’s a culinary science major. Wait! Let me go get something real quick.”

You smiled at your little surprise and shuffled back to the kitchen, putting the two little raspberry and chocolate cupcakes on plates with equally little forks.

“Ta-da! These are to die for. I wish I could take the credit; these are just one of the benefits of having a roommate that’s constantly experimenting.”

Hyunjin took in a careful bite and his eyes widened into moons.

“I know right!? She’s a genius.”

Silence filled the air between you as you ate more. You couldn’t help but feel so completely and utterly cozy in the moment. The sun had nearly set and you had set your heater up in your room along with some Christmas music to softly play in the background. The only regret that you had was the candle you had lit which was just a little too sweet. You started to wonder after you two had finished, what would happen next? Would he leave? Greedily, a feeling seeped into you like before, you still didn’t want him to leave.

“That was amazing.” He placed his plate down.

“You know what?” Your brash confidence pushing through once more. “Your hair, the silver, it’s just so pretty. I can’t stop looking at it.”

He instantly became flustered. “Oh...thank you, I’ve been thinking about dying it like this for a really long time now and I finally did it. It sounds kinda dumb, but I didn’t wanna do anything that would draw attention to myself.”

“...can I touch it?”

Hyunjin looked a little shocked, but eagerly nodded.

You started by thumbing through some of the longer strands towards his shoulders: it was just as soft as you imagined. You then started from the top running your hand all the way down, admiring the way that it looked like it shimmered a little. You had gotten so caught up in him that you didn’t notice that he had closed his eyes.

“pretty.” You cooed.

“Y/n?” He suddenly asked.

“Hmm?”

“Is it weird to say that I feel like really comfortable around you? Is that weird?”

“No, not at all.” You continued running your hands through the silver strands, somehow you had leaned in a lot closer to him than you had been before.

He looked at you with his doe-like brown eyes. You could have sworn that they were glistening. Your eyes fell a little lower to his lips, they looked wonderfully kissable and plump. From that moment your brain furiously wondered what they tasted like. His eyes fell a little too.

He leaned in first, catching you completely off guard. He kissed you so carefully and gently, his mouth parted just slightly; it was heavenly. You could still taste the chocolate and the raspberry on his lips. He sighed a little into your mouth like he was relaxing himself. In many ways, the way in which he kissed you made you feel like he cared for nothing else in the world, just you. Your cupped his face in your hands, tracing your thumbs against his jawline.

That was it. You were absolutely crazy for him.

You broke for a moment and he turned into a huge, rosy, smiling mess. The two of you giddily giggled at how happy you were over what had just happened. You shuffled your own plate off the bed to silently invite him to lay down which he did obediently. Now he seemed less hesitant, but more excited.

You swung your legs around both sides of him and kissed him more on his smiling lips. At this point, you had convinced yourself that nothing in this world was sweet as him. His hands found their way to your back, where he ran his fingers down, making you shiver delightfully at the touch. His hands finally found your waist which he grabbed onto firmly. He pulled you down into him so your bodies were flush and you could feel all of his warmth. Once you were this close, he started kissing you back more wantonly, gasping a little in between.

“You’re so beautiful Hyunjinnie.” You snuck in between kisses. “I can’t get enough of you.”

He let an airy laugh fall into your lips then brought one of his hands to tangle in you hair. All at once, your hands yearned to explore the soft of his skin everywhere. Outside your window the snow still silently fell and the golden sunset faded into the skyline’s horizon.

You knew how excited you had become, where together your hips grinded together. Your head spun thinking about having someone as beautiful as him give your body attention.

Hyunjin broke, holding your eyes seriously. “I-I want to make you feel good. Can I do that?”

“Of course, I would love that.” You melted.

“--But...I think you’ll have to tell me how...I haven’t done this before, sorry..”

The fact that he had shared this with you made him even more adorable.

“Don’t apologize, I can show you everything.” You whispered into his ear with a prideful grin. “But first, can I first help you?”

He gulped, “Yes.”

“I want to show you that you’re worth the attention, you’re worth all of it.”

You helped him pull off his sweater, and then his sleeveless shirt revealing his toned and pale chest, just waiting for your lips. You didn’t want to move too fast however, or risk scaring him.

“Just relax okay?”

You planted kisses everywhere you could: on his collarbones, his stomach and on his ribs, right over his heart. Even from the simplest of touches from you he seemed to unravel.

“You’re breathtaking.” You said onto his skin.

You couldn’t stop yourself from sucking a little harder than you planned, drawing little purple marks against his milky-white skin. He looked like pure art.

“Can I go down a little further?”

“Mmhmm.” He got out, with eyes closed shut trying to control himself.

You slipped his joggers down, revealing his quivering member, which was enticingly long even hidden by his briefs. He had already stained them a little with pre cum.

“oh my god.” you whispered, enamored. You couldn’t wait a single second further.

He timidly watched as you completely striped him, then tore off our own shirt and pants to make it a little more even.

“Tell me stop if you want me to, okay?”

He pleaded with desperate eyes, “Don’t stop.”

First you teased him just a little by running your tongue flat up and down and around his length, wetting your tongue with one hand and slowly pumping. You moved on to then twist around the head which had grown painfully hard. His breaths wavered and he let out little moans in desperation. You took him in at last, bobbing your head steadily.

“ mmm, that feels so good.” Hyunjin moaned out breathlessly.

You kept on, but not for too much longer, you didn’t want him finishing quite yet. He looked a little dejected when you stopped, but you swooped up to kiss him more. You took up his left hand and kissed him all the way up to his wrist and into his palm. His fingertips brushed over your lips, as gentle as one would with a flower petal.

“You want to touch me now?”

“--Yes.”

You unclipped your bra for him and laid back. For this he didn’t need any instruction. He immediately took your breast in his hand, squeezing and and ghosting his fingertips over your nipples; you reveled under his touch. He lowered to suck lightly on the bud, pulling at it lightly with his lips. His teeth grazed you slightly but you didn’t care, you fucking loved it.

“That feels amazing.” You whispered as you watched him. He was sure to give both of your nipples attention.

“I want you.” You said with hot breath. “I want your tongue.”  

He looked a little bewildered, but determined after what you had said. He slid down your body, giving you kisses the whole way down like you had done to him.

He nibbled a bit on your thighs. “Tell me how you like it.”

By the second his confidence grew more and more and it was addicting.

You started by rubbing yourself a little so he knew where to start. “In circles, you can go fast or slow, I like both, and you can suck on it too if you’d like.

He lowered, and you swung one of you legs over his shoulder which he palmed into. He started painfully slow, kitten licking carefully; he didn’t know it, but he was teasing the hell out of you. Nevertheless, you whole body began to shake a little with each lick.

“Flatten your tongue out...like that, you can go a little faster, yes...just like that.”

He had closed his eyes and settled into a rhythm, and you dug your heels into the bed. It was astonishing how quickly he got the hang of it. You whimpered out while he continued.

“fuck, Hyunjin--”

He sped up a little, your first orgasm was close by.

“Your fingers, like this.” You held up your pointer and middle together to show him. “Fuck me like that.

He did as he was told, sliding them in with ease over how wet you had become. His fingers were long and slender; addictive. He pumped in and out while your pussy made ungodly sounds. You felt so close you were lightheaded.

“Curl your fingers up, like this.” You showed him again. He continued going fast, taking a hint from your quickened breaths.

You came with white heat, clawing at the comforter on the bed. You only gave yourself a few more moments before pulling him up towards you. “I want you inside me.”

You scrambled with the drawer of your nightstand to rip a condom off from the strand that you kept, tearing it open for him. He was a little flustered, but put it on quickly; he was dripping even more for you. Your lips connected as you laid down, and he aligned himself on top of you. It was then when you saw how pink his chest had flushed. You opened your folds for him, and he started to guide himself in. He filled you up perfectly, and he groaned out once the two of you were connected.

“it’s so tight.” He shivered.

Your fingers latched on to the skin of his hips as you guided him lightly up and down. He buried his face into your shoulder as little euphoric moans slipped past his lips. After a moment, he was able to find his pace, grazing you deep inside. You let him take control as he thrust into you, leaving your arms to wrap around his broad back. You pulled his face over to kiss him, the both of you loosing yourself in the other.

“You make me feel, so, so good, baby,” You hushed into his ear.

He panted, “I-I’m gonna cum soon.”

It took all your strength to flip him off of you, and to land in his lap. He groaned with his hands getting lost journeying all around your body--anywhere he could touch. You took over, riding him and rolling your hips fast with both of your palms flat on his chest riddled with hickies. Like this, you thought that he looked practically angelic. Both of you chased your orgasms together, erupting at nearly the same time, and you ravished in him throbbing inside.

You laughed a little together in sheer bliss and he flinched a little when you slid off of him.

“Did that all feel good for you? Are you okay?” You pecked his nose.

“Yes. It felt like nothing else.”

You stood up, adjusting your frazzled hair and putting on a fresh set of comfy clothes. “Stay right there okay?”

You went to grab him a towel and clean himself off with, handing him his clothes one by one as he dressed. You brought the plates back to the kitchen coming back with a large glass of ice cool water, then offered it to him. He guzzled it letting a little drop fall down his neck.

“Can I get you anything else?”

“No, I’m okay.”

“Do you wanna...stay a little longer?”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

You blew the candle out and dimmed the lights, adjusting a blanket for the two of you to crawl under. Hyunijn followed you under, sweeping you deep into his arms.

Just a little bit longer. You thought to yourself. Stay with me.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids #I'm SOFT for hyunjin okay #can you tell that I'm really feeing these winter vibes #hyunjin x yn #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids drabble #kpop smut #kpop imagine #kpop drabble #college au #dancer au #meet cute #first time #requested #stray kids angst

[monoxiid]

can i request for first date headcanons for any blue lock boys of your choice 🥺 im so glad more people wanna write for it

of course, honey! ^^ ❤️ it's true that blue lock content is rare 😔— anyway, thankchu for requesting! hope u like the characters i chose :›

⋮☰ ┋ 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 : headcanons about the first date of some blue lock characters ⌕

⋮☰ ┋ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 : Bachira Meguru、Nagi Seishiro ⌕

⋮☰ ┋ 𝐓𝐇𝐄̀𝐌𝐄 : fluff ⌕

⋮☰ ┋ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 : probably a lot of mistakes of all kinds, lightness of content? ⌕

(well, help me to find an appropriate aesthetic-)

⠀⠀‘ ℬ𝒶𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓇𝒶 ℳℯℊ𝓊𝓇𝓊 ’ :

┃Meguru will be so excited!! You'll probably be his first girlfriend because of ... you know, his somewhat complicated childhood. Obviously, to be his partner, you would surely be someone who accepts him despite his faults, and who recognizes his qualities. He will be infinitely grateful to you for that, and the first way to show it to you will be to take you to its favorite places in the city!

┃The dark haired boy is an energetic person, naturally he will push you to be the same, pulling you out as soon as he can. He will introduce you to his friends -especially Isagi- with this proud smile on the lips. Meguru feels happy to have a girlfriend to take care of, to play video games with, but also to show off his football skills!

┃Yes, a lot of football dates. He won't hesitate to tell you if he thinks you're not good with a ball, thanks to his honest self, but it is with patience and pleasure that he will teach you how to play.

❛❛ And this is another goal from the striker Bachira Megury, what a man!!!

—I leave.

— (y/n) no—! ❜❜

┃He will not show the same enthusiasm to follow you in your own activities, but to thank you for agreeing to stay with him, he will stay with you as well. He will try as much as he can to be curious, to ask questions and to be interested in what you do, your hobbies ...

┃For an artistic s / o, he will obviously be titillated, his mother does art and it is sure that Bachira is no less creative than her. I can see him accompanying you in your painting sessions, or posing as a model for one of your drawings -not too long, though, he's a teenager who likes to move.

┃For someone as athletic as him, he will be equally happy. He will absolutely learn to play the sport you practice, go to your performances, matches etc ... and watch your training, the first to cheer you on without shame! If it's something like dancing, he'll totally be the type to carry you and turn with you in his arms.

❛❛ You see? I do the same as you!

— Ahah, you should think about converting to a dancer, then!

— I don't think that's a good idea ... Wait a minute!

— I was jok—! ❜❜

┃If you do things like team sport, he'll be more in his comfort zone, and learn to do like you faster! He will get to know your team, play with you, learn the rules...No matter what sport you play, he will act the same, with interest, because you are his girlfriend and he want to be there for you, with you.

┃If you don't even play sports, or you don't really do activities that he will be comfortable with, then maybe even better! It will be an opportunity for both of you to discover new things together and to test new experiences, without one to teach the other, just the two of you at the same level. It seems funny, isn't it?

┃The first date will probably be chaotic, Meguru will take you to any place that crosses his mind, and leave the unfinished behind, but all he wants is for you to familiarize yourself with his world, and to familiarize himself with yours.

⠀⠀‘ 𝒩𝒶ℊ𝒾 𝒮ℯ𝒾𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓇ℴ ’ :

┃👏date👏inside 👏

┃For the first time, it will be really simple, probably Seishiro pulling you into his house after school. And cuddles, that's all. Not even video games, not even televisions, screens, chatting, just the two of you cuddling on his bed. And always a nap that could take time.

┃Take advantage of Reo's money? Take advantage of Reo's money. But only sometimes, because Nagi is never for expensive and luxurious things. He prefers sofa to caviar, logical coming from someone like him.

┃But, being a soccer fan, it makes sense that if you ask him, he won't refuse to come out to shoot the ball a bit. He's not going to take it easy with you, though. If he's easier to block, it's only because of his incredible laziness, sorry.

┃As for your hobbies, he will only be interested if you mention them, he will not join you -or rarely- but will accept with pleasure to watch you. You are his girlfriend, he will make exceptions.

┃But the majority of the time, your dates will consist of you finding yourself on the couch, arms in each other, on your phones, talking to each other, even if it can end in a monologue. He's not very talkative, but absolutely loves it when you're having a conversation on your own without necessarily responding. He could listen to your voice for hours, and even fall asleep more easily with it.

┃If you like video games, he will be happy to play with you. He could be a bad player if you win, but he still enjoys these common moments that you both have. Obviously, he will be the first to taunt you if you win.

❛❛Oh, I won again. Strange, I thought you were the best at this game, (y / n) ...

—Sh-shut up! I'll take back control!!

— Ahah, of course, darling. ❜❜

┃He doesn't care that you don't want to go out, he will always agree with you on this point but sometimes he doubts himself and thinks that you would have had enough of him, who never takes you in places as fancy as Reo could, so sometimes he'll invite you to a restaurant. But it's not hard to see that he's not in his element, and you should quickly figure out what's going on. Seishiro will be relieved to hear you say that you don't care about the superfluous, that what you love is to be with him, no matter where you are.

❛❛ Oh my god, you are so sweet. I dunno what to say. ❜❜

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #meguru bachira #bachira meguru #bachira meguru x reader #meguru bachira x reader #nagi seishirou #nagi seishirō #seishiro nagi #seishiro nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #🎐.bookstore

[seanfalco]

I Caught Fire | Klaus Hargreeves x Reader

Word Count: 3.2k Prompt: (I can’t find the original prompt, but it was from the I wish you’d write a fic where... series) Klaus & y/n’s first time Requested by: Anonymous Warnings: smut, loss of virginity, awkward sex, oral sex a/n: This was sitting in my to write list for a while (I’m so sorry!)  Takes place in the PwF’verse, an extra scene from Klaus’s POV that takes place during Chapter 2 of Playing with Fire

It was strange being back at the mansion, all the memories from his youth he’d forgotten or purposefully blocked out kept sneaking up on him, rushing back to choke him at the most inappropriate moments.

Rubbing his kohl smudged eyes, Klaus reached for his clothes strewn abandoned across the parlor floor from the night before when he’d collapsed to the leather couch in naught but his underwear… was it even his?  He wondered for a moment, glancing down at the colourful leopard spotted pattern.  He honestly couldn’t seem to remember where it’d come from.

Shrugging, he dressed, ignoring Ben, and headed for his old room, where more memories were surely waiting for him.

As he stepped across the threshold he found, bingo! he was right, and he bit his lip as the memories assailed him, almost as annoying as the ghosts that hounded him and he wondered if he were high enough if he could drown those memories out too. 

These ones actually weren’t bad per se, but the pain they brought hurt so much worse.

“Ugh,” Klaus groaned heavily, throwing himself down on the bed and draping his arm over his face.  As tempting as it was, he didn’t exactly want to think about his first kiss, which had happened right where he lay, or the fact that the woman it had happened with happened to be downstairs at this very moment, and despite her hostility yesterday (which frankly, he deserved) he still wanted to kiss her.

Lifting his arm he sighed as his eyes found the scribbled lyrics on the wall nearby and his thoughts drifted to the very last time either of them had set foot in this room and what had come after. 

——

[ Twelve Years Ago ]

“You don’t hafta do this y’know.  The old man kicked me out, not you,” Klaus exclaimed as [y/n] ambled next to him, her bag of belongings slung over her shoulder, while he dragged his behind him.

“Are you kidding me?” she scoffed, “stick around that hellhole without you?  No, thank you.  You obviously don’t know me as well as you think you do,” she exclaimed, nudging him with her shoulder as he leaned into her.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here, my lovely partner in crime,” Klaus announced, pausing to reach into his jacket pocket, “because check what I nicked before we left,” he exclaimed, holding out the rather valuable trinkets he’d taken from the living room cabinet.

“And what’re you gunna do with those? [y/n] asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Pawn them, duh,” he exclaimed, dropping the valuables back in his pocket and slinging his arm around [y/n]’s shoulder.

The money they got from their ill gotten gains was enough to pay for an upscale motel room for a couple nights -- long enough to figure out what to do from there, as well as a small baggie of pills Klaus carefully tucked into his jacket pocket.

“Ooh, swanky,” Klaus exclaimed as he pushed open the door to their room, and stepping inside, turned to make a flourish as he pulled [y/n] in after him.

“My dear, welcome to our palace!  Well, for the next five days, at least.”

[y/n]’s laughter warmed him and he grinned as he followed her in further, flopping down on the bed next to her as he bounced on it lightly where she sat.

“Hey, at least it’s comfortable,” she exclaimed, flopping back as well before turning her face to him.  “Now what d’you wanna do?”

“Order some take out, I’m starving,” Klaus replied, his stomach growling pointedly.

A couple hours later, empty takeout containers littered the dresser and nightstand while [y/n] and Klaus watched tv in a heap, content and comfortable.

“Hey [y/n],” Klaus murmured suddenly, catching her attention and she turned to him, propping her chin in her hand.  

“What’s up?” she asked.

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” he admitted, reaching out to take her hand and she smiled.

“Me too.  There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” she murmured, threading her fingers with his.

For a long moment they merely stared at each other, Klaus’s pulse pounding in his ears as he wet his lips.  She was so close, all he had to do was lean in…

“Klaus,” [y/n] whispered, her eyes flicking up to meet his.

“Yeah?” he breathed, not daring to move.

“D’you wanna make out?” she asked, her lips curling impishly, drawing a grin to his face as well.

“You read my mind, sweetheart,” Klaus exclaimed, and before he knew it she was kissing him, her hands balled in his shirt, pulling him closer and he obliged, rolling atop her as his lips moved insistently against hers.

Acting on instinct, he drew his knee up between her legs as he hovered over her and she moaned into his mouth as she ground against his thigh, her tongue darting out to meet his in a somewhat sloppy dance.

Each time [y/n] writhed against him, Klaus could feel the crotch of his jeans grow tighter and he groaned, [y/n]’s soft moans in his ears certainly not helping matters.

“[y/n],” he murmured, pulling back to catch his breath, his voice husky.

“Hmm?” she hummed, shifting under him as she plucked at his shirt.

“Do you wanna, oh, I dunno…” Klaus trailed off, suddenly feeling foolish.

“Do I wanna… what?” she replied softly, biting her lip as she gazed up at him knowingly, clearly wanting him to say it.

“Nah, you wouldn’t want to,” he mused teasingly, a mischievous smirk tugging at his swollen lips at the pout that flashed across [y/n]’s face.

“Klaus!” she huffed, slipping her hands up under his shirt to run up his chest, sending a fresh wave of arousal through him.

“Oh, alright,” he relented, grinning hesitantly, “d’you wanna fool around?” he asked, holding his breath.

“I thought you’d never ask,” [y/n] breathed and Klaus groaned, half sitting up to help her push his shirt up over his head before his lips once more crashed against hers with a fresh sense of urgency.  As their tongues warred, hands groped, searching for flesh and tearing at clothes until they’d both undressed, [y/n] laid blessedly bare before him.

Klaus paused, letting his gaze roam over her, taking a moment to really see her, memorizing her every curve and swell.  He’d never seen her like this before, completely unclothed, and now that he had, he wished she never had to dress again.

“What?” [y/n] asked, flushing as she noticed him staring, attempting to cover herself with her arms, but he caught her wrists, lifting them so he could see her unhindered.

“No, don’t hide,” he murmured, awe coating his words and [y/n] turned her face to the side in embarrassment.

“Klaus!”

“What?” he asked, gently nudging her chin back toward him.  “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, catching her eyes.  “It’s a shame to cover this work of art!” he exclaimed, slowly running his hands down her warm skin, wanting to feel every inch of her.

A soft moan escaped her lips as she arched into his touch and he didn’t fail to notice the appraising way her half lidded eyes traversed his body in turn, causing him to blush this time.

His physique had never really been something he’d been proud of, thinking himself rather tall and gangly growing up, but the way [y/n] looked at him… he felt desirable.

“So, we gunna do this or what?” [y/n] asked, sighing as Klaus leant forward to kiss her again.

“Hell yeah,” he replied with a smirk, his hand trailing southward, to slip between her thighs, his fingers brushing her sex as she gasped.

“Jesus, you’re so wet,” he exclaimed with a groan, his cock twitching at just the thought of being buried in those slick folds soon enough.

“Wait!” [y/n] gasped, her eyes snapping open as if she’d just remembered something.

“What?  Something wrong?” he asked, worry clutching him that maybe she’d changed her mind already.

“No!” she exclaimed quickly, noticing the panic on his face.  “Just, uh… do you have a condom?” she asked.

Fuck.  Klaus’s dark limned eyes widened in horror, his mouth falling open.  “I don’t…” he admitted.  Was he really gunna get this far only to be cockblocked by his lack of condoms?

[y/n]’s laughter tore him out of his thoughts and he gaped at her.  “What the fuck’s so funny?” he yelped, his lips drawing into a pout which only made her laugh harder.

Pushing herself up, she placed a peck to his stunned lips -- wait, was she leaving?!  Reaching over the side of the bed, she grabbed her bag and began rummaging through it.

“What’re you doing?” he demanded weakly, confused, until [y/n] straightened, a small foil packet between her fingers.  

“Getting this,” she answered, flashing him a smirk.

“Why do you have a condom?” Klaus exclaimed, his brows drawing down as [y/n] giggled, patting his cheek.

“Because I had a feeling this would happen.”

“Wait, how long have you had that?  And how many do you have?” he asked incredulously, watching her eyes dart away.

“Does it matter?” she countered, but Klaus wasn’t ready to let this drop, crawling closer to where she knelt, pulling her into his arms.  “Just how long have you been thinking about jumping my bones, huh?” he pressed, amusement filling him at the evasive look in her eyes and the way her cheeks warmed.

“Klaus,” she groaned.

“No, I’m curious,” he exclaimed with a grin, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before resting his forehead against hers.

“A while, okay?” she mumbled, “and I may have bought a whole… box of them.”

“Oooooh,” Klaus exclaimed, laughter tinging his voice as he eased her to her back, plucking the condom wrapper from her hand as he stole a deep kiss.  “What would I do without you, my dear?” he exclaimed with a wink as he straightened.

Fumbling with the wrapper, his tongue peeked out between his teeth in concentration.  

“Do you need some help, Klaus?” [y/n] asked, fighting back a smile as she watched him struggle.

“I’ve got it!” he huffed, a little petulantly, which only made [y/n]’s grin grow and she took him by surprise as she sat back up, her hand wrapping round his cock, giving it an experimental stroke and Klaus nearly dropped the condom as the wrapper tore open, an involuntary moan springing from his lips.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped feebly.  

Giggling softly, [y/n] grabbed the condom, biting her lip as she pinched the end and slowly rolled the sides down his cock til he was covered.

“There, now you’re good to go,” she murmured with a smirk as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down atop her.

In this position -- [y/n] naked below him, his cock wrapped in a condom, hovering at her entrance, it finally hit him what was about to happen and a wave of nerves washed over him.  What if he was bad?  What if he hurt her?  What if this changed things between them forever?

“A-are you ready?” he asked, noticing the apprehension radiating from her as well, but when his eyes found hers she nodded without hesitation.

“I’m ready.  I want this.  I want you,” she said, her voice firmer than his had been.

“Okay, well here we go then,” he exclaimed with a nervous laugh, his cock slipping as he tried to press into her, forcing him to reach between them and guide his overeager cock to her slick folds, his heart leaping into his throat at the way her breath hitched.

“You okay?” he asked, stopping abruptly.

“I’m fine,” she murmured, though she grimaced slightly as he continued to slide into her, the tightness of her walls clenching around him nearly more than he could handle.

“You sure?” Klaus pressed, his voice hoarse, before swallowing.

“Just, go slow,” she whispered, letting out a shuddering breath, her fingers clutching at his forearms.

Klaus nodded, taking a deep breath before moving again, his eyes nearly rolling up into his head at the sensation.  He’d never imagined being inside her would feel this good.  If he wasn’t careful he’d blow his load before even getting properly started and that was the last thing he wanted.  He wanted to make her feel good, to hear her screaming his name as she writhed beneath him, lost in a haze of pleasure he created. 

“God, you feel amazing, [y/n],” he gasped, pausing as he finally sheathed her completely, gazing down at her as he hovered somewhat stiffly over her.  “You still alright?”

She nodded, her hands sliding up his arms to hold his face, her thumb stroking his cheek as she wrapped her legs around his waist.  “Fuck me, Klaus.  Please.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Klaus said incredulously and he began to move.  Slowly.  Awkwardly.  Pulling out too far only to have to guide himself back in haltingly before resuming, thrusting slowly as he watched [y/n]’s face fervently, his heart pounding in his ears, pride filling him with each moan she let slip.

Her sounds egged him on and she began to roll her hips in time, meeting each thrust, his movements strengthening, his pace quickening as confidence filled him, losing himself in his pleasure until he realized with horror that all too soon he was about to come... and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, dropping his face to her neck as he came, his muscles tensing before he reluctantly lifted his face with a grimace.

“Did you just…?” [y/n] asked, frowning slightly and Klaus cleared his throat.

“Uh… yeah,” he admitted sheepishly, noticing the disappointment on her face, though she tried hard to hide it as he pushed himself up, discarding the used condom in the trash can next to the bed.  Biting his lip, he thought quickly, wanting to salvage the situation.  Things had not gone how he wanted at all and he didn’t want to leave [y/n] hanging for their first time.

Before she could sit up, Klaus turned back to her, holding her down as a thought came to him, his gaze roaming her body.

“Klaus?” she asked, confusion lacing her voice though hope flashed across her face for a moment.

“Oh no you don’t,” he chastised lightly, parting her legs and positioning himself between them.  “Did you really think I wasn’t gunna make sure you came too?” he asked, bringing an embarrassed grin to her lips and she covered her face with her hands.

“Yeah, no way, [y/n],” he exclaimed, teasing her folds with his fingers as he leaned over to plant a trail of kisses down her chest, taking the time now to memorize her body with his mouth, unsure if he was doing it right, but doing what felt good.

The supple feel of her warm flesh beneath his lips was nice, but the sounds she made as he neared his destination were enough to send arousal coursing through him again.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be good to go again soon, but first... there’s something I wanna try,” he mused against her skin, a nervous flutter filling his stomach at the thought of what he was about to do, hoping he’d be better at it than his first attempt at sex.

When his lips brushed against her sex she gasped, the sound sending a shiver through him and when his tongue hesitantly swiped up her folds to her clit she tensed beneath him, her hands clenching in the sheets.

“Fuck, Klaus--!” she moaned, her hips rolling against his face and he grinned at her response.

Fuck, but she tasted so good.  He’d never imagined that something could taste this heavenly.

Lapping eagerly, Klaus took his guide from her, trying several approaches before finding what she seemed to like, refocusing his efforts there til she was squirming beneath him, her hands moving from the sheets to bury in his short unruly curls.

His jaw was starting to tire, but he could tell she was close and he’d be damned if he gave up before finishing her, wanting desperately to watch her come undone, her moans alone driving him crazy.  Pausing for a moment to catch his breath Klaus dove back in, spreading her folds with one hands as he reached up her body to grope her breast roughly as he practically buried his face in her cunt, lapping broad unrelenting strokes against her clit as her cries grew louder, his cock growing hard again as he ground his hips against the bedding below him.

“Klaus, I’m--!” she didn’t even get the words out before she threw her head back with a high pitched whine, her whole body arching off the bed, pressing her cunt harder against his mouth, but he didn’t stop until she finally went limp beneath him, wanting to make sure she’d came.

Lifting his head, his face coated with her slick he met her gaze as she looked down at him, reaching for him, and Klaus quickly crawled back up to her, wiping his lips and chin with the back of his hand before laying next to her and pulling her into his arms.

“Klaus, that was…” she murmured, taking a deep breath as her eyes fluttered shut, her forehead pressing to his, “that was fucking amazing.”

“You like that?” he asked, pride filling him.  

“I really like that,” she answered, grinning up at him.

“Good,” he replied, squeezing her tighter.  “I didn’t completely fail.”

“Hey now,” she murmured, holding his face tightly between her hands.  “Don’t say that.”

“But--” he yelped, quickly quieting under her stern look.

“From what I can feel, you’re gunna be good to go again soon,” she pointed out, rubbing her thigh against his hardening cock and he flushed.  “Did it turn you on that much to eat me out?” she asked and Klaus quieted her with a kiss.

“Maybe,” he admitted, clearing his throat.  “But you’re right, I’ll be good to go again very soon, as long as you wanna give it another go?” he asked hesitantly.

“I do have a whole box of condoms,” [y/n] mused, raising her eyebrows as she regarded him, a grin playing at her lips.

“You do, don’t you,” Klaus agreed, smirking in turn.  “And we have this motel room for the next few days,” he pointed out, to which she nodded.  “I bet by the time we check out, we’ll be really good at this.”

[y/n] laughed, letting Klaus roll her to her back again, sighing as he plied her with kisses.

——

Opening his eyes, Klaus groaned, pushing himself up off his childhood bed with a grimace.  Now that [y/n] was definitely on his mind, he needed more than ever to find something to help dull those thoughts.  Shoving his hands in his coat pockets he rummaged through them, hoping there was at least one pill left.  

Finding none, he pushed himself up completely before ambling to the door and peering down the hall both ways.

Maybe he could find something else to pawn.

Heading in the direction of Five’s old room, he set to work scouring every nook and cranny for something, anything valuable -- needing just a little cash to chase a high.  Little did he know that the woman he was so desperately trying to get off his mind was about to catch him in the act, rendering any hope of escape completely useless.  

But really, he’d be lying if that wasn’t exactly what he wanted.

————————

Klaus Tag List: @magic-multicolored-miracle @midnightseance @etherealsxnder @iamsexytrash @orions-nebula @unlistedpond @remibarnes22 @slutforrobbiebro

#tua #the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves smut #prompt request #i wish you would write a fic where... #anonymous #my writing #PwFverse

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi Steph!

I’m sorry it’s my first time sending you an ask, so I dunno which button I clicked man. Sorry about that.

Ok, so what I wanted to request! I love your blog. You’re really kind and genuine, and I’ve found some great fics to light up my day from here. But sometimes, the posts are suuupppeeerr long, and I may not be looking for this info exactly? Like it clogs up a lot of my dash. So I wanted to request if you could use a “read more” feature after a brief, at least for the fic rec posts.

I hope I didn’t offend or anything. Thank u for all the kindness you put into the world each day. Have a good day fren!

Hey Nonny!

Ahh, okay, you’re not going to like what I am going to say, but you are very respectful and were smart and sandwiched your issue in compliments, so Ahhhh, I feel conflicted now.

With all due respect Nonny, this is my blog and I get more engagement on my lists if people can see the full list; many people prefer it that way, and honestly I get crapped on either way, so I’ve made the executive decision to not cut my posts. The only time I do is on “second” reblog on super long LONG lists so that I have a “cut” and “uncut” version of the post, but even those I’ve been reducing. 

I’ve tried both ways, and full posts get better notice. All I want to do is share my love of fics and content with y’all, and the best way to do that is to just have it all there so people know what they’re getting. 

Plus, am I to just “readmore” every single reply on my posts? A lot of the reason my blog has stayed as long as it has is because I’ve always been a very interactive blog. People LIKE seeing their replies added to a comment thread on my post, and it helps smaller blogs get noticed. It’s not much on the surface, but I’ve had smaller blogs come to me DELIGHTED that their name is now attached to one of my posts that are going through a “popular reblog cycle” (that is, a post that is being interacted with for a good few days before I actually finally add it to the month-reblog queue). It helps create a sense of community, I feel, and that’s one of the things I am very honoured to be: a starting place for community.

And this is just in a general sense and NOT directed at you, more at the people who shit on me in the notes of my long posts, but I don’t GET people getting upset about my TEXT BASED POST WITH NO IMAGES IN IT, but not on any of the image or playlist posts I reblog, which take FOREVER to load on mobile. I GENUINELY don’t get it. I don’t even use the app on my phone, I’m logged into the browser on my phone, because the app is garbage. 

The problem is the app, in my opinion. That’s the gist of it. It loads slow, it scrolls terribly, and the UI is annoying, but instead app users blame the bloggers and not the fact that Tumblr staff ignore every suggestion we make. And because more of the newer people use their mobiles these days, us old-time Tumblr users are expected to microblog like the shitty sites that are Twitter or Facebook. Tumblr is a blogging platform, like LiveJournal, laid out all nicely and clean and honestly, (the royal you) you’re getting exactly what you signed up for: long posts, opinions, and interaction. If one wants shitty layouts, shitty comment threads you can’t follow and reactionaries, go to Twitter. Call me a boomer, whatever, I just find Tumblr so much more appealing now more than ever. 

Sorry, I’ve needed to get this off my chest for awhile now. I don’t know. Maybe I’m being pedantic. I don’t care, really. My thoughts on this: if (the royal) you don’t like the content, or find stuff annoying, don’t follow me.

Because you know what a lot of my longest posts are? Helpline numbers at the bottom of posts. Useful links. And just stuff that make people happy. People in despair are not going to click on a read more of a post. People who want links to resources aren’t going to click on a read more. People who just want happiness after a stressful day are literally just scrolling to smile, and they ain’t gonna click a read more.

YES, there are reasons read mores are good, absolutely. I just PERSONALLY don’t like them because I like engagement. I don’t get much of it anymore on my posts, EXCEPT the fic rec posts, and THOSE work better as a full view.

BUT NONNY PLEASE KNOW I AM NOT UPSET AT ALL WITH YOU, and you’ve given me a great opportunity to discuss this thing that I’ve put off for awhile because the other people were less-than-kind, and it only made me NOT address it out of simple spite because I’m nothing if not a passive aggressive old lady. 

So, here are a few ideas you can implement:

If you like my posts but not the longest ones, I always tag them “long post”. Tumblr finally has its own tag blocking feature, so just block “long post”. All of my very long lists will be blocked, and you can decide if you want to click on them based on what the additional tags are. I try my best to tag all my lists appropriately.

Similarly, you can “tag block” my username, and only click on the posts you like the tags for.

DON’T TAKE THIS THE WRONG WAY, PLEASE, this isn’t a “so there!” comment, I promise!!: You can unfollow me if you’re only following me for the fic lists, and instead follow me on Twitter at @inevitablyjohn1, which is used only to promote my new lists and art. Every Wednesday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday I post up the Wednesday Reblog, Five Fics Friday, Fic Rec Roundup, and Fic Rec Sunday, with a link to each post :) Then you’ll get all the lovely full lists I post 4 times a week. OF COURSE, this is the option I don’t want to happen, because I love all my lovelies and you’ll miss out on the random fics, insightful asks, and suggestions I get throughout the week, BUT I want you to enjoy your time on Tumblr, and if my blog is causing you stress, it’s the last thing I want to happen. I love all of y’all too much to see that!

THAT ALL SAID, Nonny, I’m really sorry to disappoint you, and I hope you understand my POV on this. I just don’t see any benefit on my part, for MY blog, which I run for MY happiness which has the side effect of making other people happy. I also hope you will still stick around regardless, but I care about your well being and I understand if you have to leave.

AND everyone, please don’t be harsh on this Nonny! They asked a question respectfully and deserve our respect in kind.

I truly wish you the loveliest of days, Nonny, and have a great week! <3

#steph replies #my blog #blog things #tumblr things #ironically: #long post #Anonymous

[breitzbachbea]

#11 and #41 for turgre!

Thank you for sending the prompt in!

Fanfic Trope Mash Up

#11 Neighbour AU + #41 Big Damn Kiss =

Herakles & Sadık are both recent university graduates from Athens & İstanbul, but find themselves lacking opportunities to work in their homecountries. So they go abroad to try their luck elsewhere.

Both end up in Germany. Herakles' is living with the Simonides old family friends who've either migrated decades ago or are living as expats in Germany. Natasa and Ibrahim welcome Herakles with open arms. He immediately makes friends with their twins, only a few years younger than him. Omar and Timothea, as they're called, are still living with their parents while they're attending the local university. They're not living in luxury, but they're happy.

Sadık manages to get in contact with Havva Be Yauno via some university acquaintances. They migrated to Germany a while ago, after being kicked out working in local administration. Sadık gets to share a small flat in the building Havva manages for the landlord, together with a Kurdish Woman called Dilan Taş. After some initial hiccups, the two become close friends.

The hiccups with their neighbours next door are less initial. No, that's a lie - The Simonides don't mind their new neighbours, even invite them for coffee and tea. Omar pretty quickly evolves a crush on Dilan.

It's just Herakles and Sadık who keep butting heads.

They argue about petty semantics that only people who studied 'breadless art' would care about. Herakles complains that they're too loud at night. Sadık says Herakles is dragging stray cats into the house by leaving out food & now the whole staircase stinks. There's always something.

As time goes on, they get over themselves a little. Too busy with their own life. Sadık feeds the cats with scraps he gets from the Turkish butcher. Herakles comes over after it's been eerily quiet for weeks and finds out that Sadık's latest odd job makes him work at night. He actually finds him slumped over on the kitchen table when Dilan lets him in before she leaves for work. He goes back and leaves him a package of expensive coffee beans that he had imported from Greece.

One night, they end up together on the university campus. Sitting on the steps surrounding a piece of green near a small river. The city's barely still awake, there's only music, TV and chatter from the dorms. The occassional student crossing after they stayed late at the library.

"What did you actually study?" Sadık asked and put the lighter back into his pocket. It was a cheap one with a wheel. Pain in the ass to get working at this point. His last money had been spent on the cigarettes themselves.

Herakles took a deep breath through his nose. He stared at the water, flowing invisibly except for a few dancing white and orange specks. "Philosophy," he said.

Sadık chuckled and the chuckle quickly became a laugh. "Oh, what a surprise that you couldn't find a job with such a prestigious degree." He grinned and exhaled some smoke.

"And history. Archaeology, Politics, Linguistics, Architecture, Maths... I dipped my toes into physics, too, for a little bit, but couldn't really make it."

Sadık's grin had long faltered. Herakles looked to the river. A smile replaced the initial surprise on Sadık's face. "Oho, a real Renaissance man, aren't you?"

"I like to learn. But all I could do with the few fields I actually managed to acquire a degree in was teach in school. And I'm just not... very good at that." He sighed. Long. "But my dad had stopped paying once I had gotten a job, not that he had ever really paid me enough, mind you, so... I had nowhere to go if I had quit."

"Except here." Sadık wished Herakles would have looked at him. To even catch a glimpse of him, a little bit of that beautiful face illuminated by the pale moon or the orange streetlights.

"Except here." Sadık finally had his wish granted. "What did you study?"

Sadık took a deep breath through his nose. His cigarette was almost finished. "Architecture, too. Tried to get into engineering, but couldn't quite make it. Would have loved to do Literature, frankly. I dunno, get a teaching position at an university, but Anne* always had higher plans for me. Career woman and all that, only wanted the best for me, too, so studying something almost as useless as philosophy wasn't really up for debate."

Now he was the one to stare into the river while he took another drag. He looked at his feet. His shoes could need a good cleaning.

"A smoking literature professor, how cliché," Herakles said and the deep shadows on his face hid how much it reflected the amusement in his voice. He leant in closer to Sadık and put a hand on his thigh. His inner thigh. "All the women would have gone wild over this."

"You think so?" Sadık asked, an expectant but cautious smirk on his face. Rest of his cigarette between his fingers. Herakles' weight on his thigh. He enjoyed his touch. The nights were so cold here in Germany. He leant in for a kiss.

Herakles' hand disappeared. "But I don't kiss smokers." The next moment, Sadık was engulfed in darkness as Herakles stood and blocked the streetlight. He turned and adjusted his jacket. "I have a job interview tomorrow, so see you around, I guess." He turned to just the right angle that Sadık could catch his grin.

He only had a dumbfounded stare as goodbye while Herakles climbed the stairs back to street level.

Some time after this incident, Herakles gets a job as research assisstant at the local university. It's initially only for a project of the history facculty, but he's happy nonetheless.

Now that he knows Sadık enjoys literature, he tells the Simonides one time the topic crops up & they know of a regional literature club, who's holding public reading nights. Any author can show up and read their pieces for 10 Minutes to an audience. Omar tells Dilan, who knows that Sadık writes poetry. She thinks he should go and so after she bullied him into it, they do.

Sadık becomes a regular guest there and ends up meeting other literature enthusiasts, like the Beilschmidts. (He and Gilbert bicker a lot about what the other writes, both trying to take the other down a peg). Sadık never tells Herakles any of this.

So imagine his surprise when he spots him one night in the audience. Afterwards, he's torn between sneaking out and going straight up to him, but Herakles makes the decision for him.

"I didn't know you wrote poetry," Herakles finally broke the awkward stare-off.

"Well, now you do." Sadık closed his book and shoved it under his arm. With a grin, he asked: "You think it's good?"

Despite what followed, Herakles couldn't wipe the smile off his face: "I enjoyed it more than the other guy's crime story, at least."

Sadık gave a short bark of laughter. "Oh, you don't know half of it, Gilbert's been trying to make it work since forever. You got time for a coffee?"

So life's good. They're hanging out, they're working, they're pursueing their passions. One time, the heater in Sadık and Dilan's flat breaks and despite Havva trying their best to get it repaired and them a temporary replacement, they're freezing their asses off. So they go and visit their neighbours, who offer them to sleep over. Sadık is supposed to sleep on the couch. Dilan is supposed to sleep on a mattress in the Simonides' room. Both somehow end up sleeping in a Greek's bed instead. (Herakles has a really small room - his desk is even in the twins' room cuz it wouldn't fit in his own. Sadık asks if he wants coffee and they end up drinking coffee in his bed together and talk until they fall asleep.)

Life could be rosy. That is until one day, the Simonides get into real trouble with the landlord. You see, Natasa and Havva always had a tense relationship, because Natasa doesn't believe in playing by the rules too much, while Havva is a very organized person. However, now some things - like mayhaps Herakles living with them - have gotten directly to the landlord of the building and they're not amused. They threaten to evict them, unless Herakles is going - and want a hefty fine from the Simonides either way.

Getting a new home would mean severe financial strain, not to mention the fine. Omar and Thea may would have to pause or drop their studies. Herakles would have to go back to Greece and start from scratch.

Which he's willing to do, seeing how much trouble he caused the family, even if it breaks his heart. Natasa is having none of it - "I'm not sending you back to your son of a bitch, deadbeat dad, Iraklis" - and insists he stays.

Dilan and Sadık get wind of all of this and they're just as devasted as the family itself. They don't want to lose their neighbours. They don't want this to ruin Omar's and Thea's future. They don't want Herakles to leave. Sadık doesn't want Herakles to leave.

So he pleads with Havva to do something, anything, he'll help them do whatever it takes. Natasa is far too proud to do so. Maybe she even suspects that Havva had something to do with it. (They don't).

And through a lot of negotiation, bribery and running errands, the Simonides get to stay. Omar and Thea can continue pursueing their degrees in peace. Herakles gets to stay and keep working in Germany.

"You... You've spent your past weeks on this?" Herakles' stare pierced Sadık as much as it seemed to look right through him. His mouth hung open, jaw slack. "This was all your doing?"

Sadık took a deep breath, but had to settle for a rather unintelligent "Well, yeah." Herakles' stare unsettled him. He had never seen him at a loss for words before. He was even afraid the other might faint.

A heartbeat later, Sadık was afraid he might faint. Herakles had taken a step towards him, grabbed his face and pressed his lips onto Sadık's. It knocked the breath out of him.

His lips were soft. They were so soft and hot and melded with his own effortlessly.

He kissed back, hands on Herakles' face, fingers buried in the messy hairy. The pressure between them was right, felt right, made them one for a brief eternity.

It ended as abruptly as it had begun. They both took a deep breath through their nose and Herakles panted loudly as he exhaled through the mouthm He swallowed.

"Herakles, I don't think that that's an appropriate enough Thank you", Ibrahim said, but neither of the two barely even registered it. Natasa laughed. Loudly.

"Oh, no, I think it's more than enough," Sadık replied as he stared at the wall next to Herakles' head. His hands were still on his face. "Although..." Ibrahim and Natasa were talking in Greek when he faced Herakles again. She still chuckled while a grin stole itself onto his face. "I think I could go for a little bit more gratitude, after all we've done."

"Don't push it," Herakles warned him. Yet, his cockyness was rewarded with another kiss.

Sadık's tongue slipped between his lips effortlessly. As if it belonged there.

Like Herakles belonged here.

So... yeah! I hope you liked it!

#beareplies #needcake #aph #hws #hetalia #aph turgre #hws turgre #aph greece #aph turkey #hws greece #hws turkey #I came up with this AU before I fell asleep last night #Oh also Omar and Dilan start dating as do these two idiots. #I imagine this entirely set in my Uni city and for Hera to work for one of my Profs LMAO #Sadık sometimes visits Herakles at work to bring him sweets #storie nostre #natasa #ibrahim #omar #thea #hera #dilan #havva #sadık #also havva gets invited for dinner sometime to say thanks for their efforts. to smooth things over.

[unbelievableholland]

Hi!!! Congrats on 117 followers aahhh you so deserve it! May I please request prompts 16,42, and 45 with Peter Parker or Tom Holland? Thank you so so much - 💕💕

Far From Home

Pairing: Peter Parker x MJ, Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Injuries, angst.

Words: 2,290

Summary: During your European trip, you and Peter drift apart.

A/N: I’M SORRY THIS TOOK WAY TOO LONG, and I dunno if this was what you had in mind😅 I went through MAJOR writer’s block, but I powered through it and made this. I got a little carried away, and yeah it might be a 2 or 3 part mini series.

Prompts:

16. “Am I really that bad?”

42. “Making you fall in love with me was never my intention”

45. “I’m fine, really. I always knew he wasn’t the one. I guess you can say he’s just my almost.”

——————————————————————

“Ned! We’re clear on the plan, right?”

You and Ned were talking when Peter interrupted you, bouncing with enthusiasm. Ned looked at you with sorrowful eyes before looking at Peter, masking his previous expression with an emotion almost as enthusiastic as Peter.

“Uh, pshh yeah duh. Don’t be too obvious about it though. You were literally shouting.”

Peter rubs the back of his head with his right hand, looking around to see if anybody heard. He’s giggling nervously and you can’t help but adore him for it, he’s just so cute. Gosh, this boy will be the end of you.

“Okay, okay, I’ll keep it down. Sorry to interrupt you guys. I’ll head to my class. See you later!” After he did his handshake with Ned, he left to go to his class since he doesn’t have Biology with you and Ned.

Ned looks back at you. You both didn’t miss the fact that Peter barely paid attention to you before he left. You understand it though, he’s excited for his plan to get MJ. He’s giddy.

“Ned, stop it. I don’t like it when you pity me.”

“Yeah, but I can’t help it. Probably all of Midtown expected the two of you to get together. Hell— I thought you’d end up together! I was really rooting for it.”

You see, Peter and you used to be inseparable. You had nicknames for each other, he used to put his arm around you and around your waist all the time. He even used to kiss your cheek from time to time. Used to.

Those didn’t happen anymore though. He used to flirt— apparently unintentional though— with you all the time. Everyone thought so, but again, those don’t happen anymore. Especially with MJ in the picture.

You just accepted it. Even if you’ve been practically in love with Peter since freshman year.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, really. I always knew he wasn’t the one. I guess you can just say he’s my almost.”

“Almost?”

“Yeah. Almost. I know that we weren’t ever together, but you know” You shrug it off, wiping your eyes before the tears could fall.

You couldn’t explain it properly, but yeah. You know there was something between you and Peter, but maybe there wasn’t? Maybe there almost was?

Damn mixed signals.

Ned just shakes his head and sits back in his chair as the teacher enters the classroom to begin the lecture.

When they told you you’d be going to have a European trip, you didn’t want to go. As much as you want to explore the rich culture and art of Europe, you’d rather stay home. Just because of Peter’s plan. You know he’d never stop talking about it.

But when Peter begged you to come, begged you to join him and Ned on the trip. How could you say no?

It’s not like you have anything against Michelle. You actually think she’s a cool girl. Smart as well.

She’s not like Peter, and that’s what makes them good together. Opposites attract. Right?

On the day of the trip, you’re pretty early, so you got first in line to enter the plane. Mostly because you’re trying to avoid Peter though.

On the plane, you picked a random seat around the middle and picked the one beside the window so you could look outside. You’ve never been on a plane before, so you’re pretty anxious, but you still want to see the view outside.

Your plan on avoiding Peter has worked pretty well so far. You half expected him and Ned to find you, and you expected at least Ned to be the one to sit next to you.

Instead, when you feel someone shuffling beside you, it’s not either of them.

It’s Flash.

He sees you, and instead of leaving or saying something rude to make fun of you, he smiles. A genuine, happy-to-see-you smile.

The happy vibes radiating off of him influenced your mood, so you smiled back as he moved to sit on the seat next to you. You didn’t say anything though and you turn your head to the window once again.

It weirds you out a bit that Flash just smiled at you instead of being rude. Of course, he had never been mean to you. Only Peter, and that in and of itself resulted in you not wanting to talk to him.

Maybe he wasn’t who you thought he was.

You shake the thoughts out of your head because he’s bullied Peter enough. He doesn’t seem nice. Not to you at least.

But, you’re open minded to the thought of befriending him. At least during the trip. You don’t want to be alone and you don’t want to have bad blood with him if he’s going to be sitting next to you.

Since the moment you’ve been in your head though, you have been unconsciously staring at Peter that has been in his seat for about 5 minutes now.

“You know, if you really like Parker that much, you should tell him”

You flinch when Flash leans a little closer to you and whispers. You heart beat calming down after a few seconds.

“I don’t— what are you talk— ok, fine. I do like him, but he doesn’t like me. End of story.”

“He did. If it wasn’t obvious enough, he did. Now, he likes MJ. What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing, and, you never got confirmation that he liked me so…”

“Okay then, if you’re not going to do anything, who are you going to be with for the trip? It looks like you’ve been avoiding him judging from the fact that you chose to sit alone, and Ned looks like he’s getting along fine with Betty over there.” He snickers, as he points to Ned and Betty next to each other, giggling like children in a candy store.

Peter on the other hand, ended up next to Mr. Harrington due to his failed attempts at trying to get seated next to MJ.

“I dunno. I’ll probably spend it alone. It’s not like I have any other friends.”

“Hmm, well, I guess I can make an exception”

“What?”

“You can hang with me for the duration of the trip”

Your eyes widen and your back straightens in shock. Did— did Flash just offer to hang out with you? It might be a bit weird, but you like the idea. You like the idea of enjoying the trip with someone else, at least.

“I… I’d like that, actually.”

“Then it’s a deal.”

He smiles once again at you and leans back on his chair, putting on his headphones and closing his eyes to try and get some sleep.

Once you arrive in Venice, you pick up your bags and of course, follow Flash. Peter and Ned on the other hand, stared in shock when you went passed them to go to Flash in front of the boat for the canals.

You’re talking and laughing with him. They didn’t ever think you’d be friends with Flash. Ever. You always talked about how he annoyed you, how he was such a prick.

Peter steps forward, moving to keep you away from Flash in fear that he might do something to prank you or hurt you, but before he could, Ned stopped him.

“Peter, come on. She looks like she’s having fun. Let her have fun.”

“But it’s Flash! You know we can’t trust him!”

Peter whisper shouted. He always felt protective of you. He always did, and will continue to be.

“Yes, I don’t trust him, but I trust Y/N, and I know you do too. She’s not yours Pete. You have to let her live her life”

With a huff, Peter finds a seat on the boat and watches you interact with Flash, unintentionally sending a death glare at the two of you.

This went on for the rest of the trip. Even when Peter’s fighting the water monster, he takes a second to spare a glance at you to see if you’re ok. For some reason, he felt…something when he saw Flash next to you with his hand holding yours while both of you are running away.

He forgets about it though. Especially when Nick Fury and Mysterio came along.

When you made it to Prague, you actually thought back about the things that have happened, and it’s crazy.

First, you actually enjoyed your time with Flash. Second, everything that involved Mysterio and your trip. You know something’s up, and you want to find out what it is.

So, the night Mr. Harrington forced you to watch the opera, you snuck out. Knowing full well that Peter snuck out as well.

Things get even crazier. You see Peter, in an all-black suit, but you only realized that it was him when you saw the web.

That’s definitely Peter.

You had gone to the ferris wheel since you saw Ned and Betty there, but before you could even go near it, a lava monster appears. While you know there most likely is a name for these things, you’re too busy trying to run away to think about it.

Running to the opposite direction, you bump into someone, both of you falling down in the process. You quickly apologize without looking at him and continue to run.

Although, you definitely should have looked at him, because during the fall, he quickly attached a tracking device on the bottom of your shoe. Tiny enough that it wouldn’t be recognizable.

Out of breath, you stop in a random alley where you see Peter. Your breath hitching when you notice that he had noticed you too.

“Uh…hey Y/N! I-uh,I can explain I—”

“Cut the crap I know you’re Spider-Man.”

“What! What are you—”

“Pete”

With a sigh, he was about to speak, until he noticed something on your arm.

“Y/N! Your bleeding!”

“What? No I'm—”

You look down on your arm where he had his eyes on, and yes, you are in fact, bleeding. You just assume that it’s from the debris earlier that was flying everywhere.

Peter is examining your arm like a mad man though. When you notice that he’s holding you, you yank your arm away from him.

“Peter I’m fine.”

“No you’re not! Why won’t you let me help you??”

He’s still trying to get your arm to see if it’s still bleeding—which it is— but you keep backing away from him.

“Y/N, let me help.”

“No.”

“Why?! Why are you backing away? You know what, why are you even avoiding me? And why Flash?” Yes, the question seems random, but he has to ask. He’s been thinking about it since the first day of the trip.

You don’t answer, the floor suddenly being a source of interest.

“Why!?! Why Y/N!? Why d—”

“Because I love you! I’ve loved you for a really long time but you never even liked me back. I didn’t mean to avoid you, we just grew apart when you suddenly kept hanging out with Michelle, and-and Flash? He’s actually a really really nice guy. To me, at least. A-and I know it’s my fault I fell for you b-but there was something, right? I mean, you kissed me on the cheek, you wrapped your arms around my waist and everything! Everyone thought we were together!”

Out of breath, your chest heaving and you have tears in your eyes threatening to fall. You look like a mess, but Peter could care less what you look right now. He didn’t known you thought that way and he feels horrible that he had done this to you.

“I’m sorry—”

“I-I don’t need your sympathy Peter. I get enough of that from Ned.

“Ned knows?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you too, Y/N b—”

“but not in the way I love you. Yeah, I know.”

“Making you fall in love with me was never my intention.”

Peter didn’t know what else to say except that he’s sorry. He feels a little betrayed by Ned that he didn’t tell him, but he understands. Ned’s you friend as well, and he isn’t obligated to tell Peter everything.

You begin to walk away slowly, trying to get out of the situation to go wallow in your own sadness, but not before turning around to face in one more time.

“I have a question. You don’t need to answer, but it’s really been bothering me ever since MJ.”

He looks at you expectantly. Hoping that you’d stay a little bit more.

“Am I really that bad?”

Peter’s a bit taken aback by your question. How could you even think that? To Peter, you’re perfect.

“What— No! How could you think that??”

“Because you chose her.”

He has to admit, there was something between the both of you. He wouldn’t have been acting so intimate with you if there wasn’t.

“There- there was something between us. I didn’t know what is was and I still don’t. I have to admit that, but I guess MJ… Y/N, your perfect. You are, but—”

“But not as perfect as her”

“I didn’t say that—”

“You didn’t have to”

“Will you just let me finish!”

Just then, your phone rings. You check your phone, and you have about 28 texts and 5 missed calls from Flash and 15 missed calls and 35 texts from Ned. You assume they’re looking for you.

Saved by the bell, you think.

“I-I have to go. They’re probably looking for me.”

Before Peter could even speak, you run away to the direction of the hotel. Clutching your arm to help stop the bleeding.

Still, oblivious to the small device under your shoe.

——————————————————————

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[itsbenedict]

I didn’t post about everything I played this year, so here’s my opinions on the stuff I played that I didn’t make a rec post for:

Raging Loop 

Raging Loop is one of them twisty meta Zero Escape-y branching-path visual novels where an ensemble cast is trapped in a mysterious circumstance where people are dying gruesomely, and you have to find out what’s happening and stop it by looping a bunch. 

I can’t wholeheartedly recommend it, because... it tries to have its cake and eat it too with the supernatural elements. Clearly magic is real and has important impacts on the scenario, but then other parts are trickery you’re supposed to see through, and it’s entirely uninterested in cluing you in to how that trickery was accomplished. Not exactly a fair play mystery, in that regard- you have to kind of just be along for the ride, rather than try to figure it out.

That said, it’s a good ride- pretty strong character writing, and the central conceit of the Werewolf/Mafia-style murder scenario creates really interesting drama. It’s more concerned with making itself feel clever than letting the player feel clever, but it’s still well-paced and gripping and has a pretty decent resolution.

Detective Grimoire

I recommended Tangle Tower, the sequel, pretty strongly- and this one, while obviously a little rougher around the edges with the art and mechanics (the suspicion tracker system is a total dud; I didn’t even realize it existed until I realized I was missing an achievement for using it), it’s still pretty darn good. Really fun character designs and animations, fully-voiced, and a solid whodunit backing it all. Plus- while the two are more or less self-contained, the continuity threads with Tangle Tower raised some really interesting questions.

Contradiction - the all-video murder mystery

This one was pretty fun, largely on the strength of the actors. The main mechanic of interrogating people on evidence and using their own statements against each other was some good stuff, too. Definitely had that Phoenix Wright quality to the deductions, and Jenks is a really fun character. (Had a few points where progression was just linked to standing in a certain previously-abandoned area of the map where a clue was suddenly there for no reason, there- good thing it had a hint system.)

As a mystery, it could use a little work- most of what you end up finding out is sequel bait (for a sequel that never actually came together, unfortunately), and the actual whodunit is just sort of hiding in the cracks of all that. And... cornering the culprit just sort of happens out of nowhere once you’ve got your hands on the right piece of evidence, without much fanfare. You’re following up on leads like usual, you find a little lie in someone’s testimony, and then- oh, shit, they’re just confessing everything! Unlike all the previous times you questioned them and they were super evasive like everyone else! And then the game is over. 

All in all, it’s pretty meaty and entertaining and I’d recommend it, but unfortunately the creators have moved on to other things, so there’s not going to be any follow-up on the stuff it left unresolved.

Ikenfell

Ikenfell is a tightly-designed RPG about kids at a magic school, with Paper Mario-style action command mechanics and a battle system that makes a big deal out of careful positioning and movement, which was really enjoyable. The difficulty’s a little high (I recommend always always always speccing into max damage because killing things before they kill you is worth more than any amount of defense, speed doesn’t work, and healing is cheap), but I found it really satisfying.

There’s... something... off? About... I don’t know how to put it, it’s... doing that “yes, everyone is queer and mentally ill, deal with it” thing, which, sure, okay. But for a lot of them it’s such a background thing, like... half the playable cast is unambiguously nonbinary, but like... I don’t know if it’s trying to make some statement on how there are no rules to being NB and you can 100% perform a particular binary gender presentation but still count, or if they wrote the whole story and then changed the pronouns of some of the characters for Representation Points, or what. Probably the former? I dunno, it just feels weird. Maybe I’m just not woke enough to Get It.

(unrelatedly: why the heck is the official art they use everywhere so... off-model? none of them look like they do in-game- they look like the creator commissioned someone to draw a group shot with one reference image each and didn’t tell them anything about the characters. how much you wanna bet they commissioned a friend and it came out wrong but they were too polite to say “sorry, no, this is wrong, can you do it over?”)

Trails of Cold Steel IV

Hoo boy. It’s... not great, and it’s not great in a pretty predictable way for an even-numbered entry in the Trails series. It happens every time- first there’s a game in a new engine with new characters and a new world to explore, and it’s really nice and does interesting things... and then it ends on a cliffhanger, and then there’s a sequel game in the same engine with the same characters and the same world, reusing as many assets as possible. Also the League Of Generically Evil Anime Supervillains is there causing trouble for reasons they refuse to explain, and the plot is a storm of magicbabble and macguffin-chasing that makes little to no sense. 

Cold Steel IV is that for Cold Steel III, full stop. Welcome back to all the same places you visited last game, except this time there’s some stupid magic apocalypse happening (not that it stops you from taking the time to do random sidequests constantly, of course). The whole “oh, the evil curse mind controls people and that’s why they do stupid bullshit that’s in no one’s interest” plot point is leaned on super hard, and it’s just a big yawn the whole way through.

It’s still really fun, though, because the battle system remains really well-designed. (The same battle system that was just as fun in Cold Steel III, mind you, but it hasn’t gotten old.) And- though they’re struggling to square it with the dumb mind control apocalypse plot, the NPC dialogue continues to make the world feel believable and lived-in. They don’t slack on the parts that make Trails good- it’s just the parts that make Trails bad are making themselves more evident than ever.

did finally get to date Towa though so that’s a win

One Step From Eden

OSFE is... uh. It’s fucking hard is what it is. It’s sort of a deckbuilding roguelike, and there’s this combat that takes place on a grid, and- wait, it’s like Mega Man Battle Network, it’s exactly like Mega Man Battle Network. Man, I forgot about that, but the mechanical influence is extremely obvious. It’s MMBN meets Slay the Spire.

Except it’s super duper hard as hell, because unlike MMBN you can’t pause and swap out chips or anything- everything is just always happening so much, all at once, everywhere, and you have no recourse but to git gud and learn all the enemy patterns and the behavior of your own spells and develop the twitch reflexes necessary to not fucking die from all the shit that’s on the screen always.

(What’s the story? Uhhhh, there was some kind of magic apocalypse, and some anime girls are trying to reach a city for some reason that doesn’t really get explained ever. The game doesn’t really care to build its world at all- it’s all mechanics plus a little token character dialogue that doesn’t say much.)

The point is it’s really frickin’ hard but I am an epic pro gamer and I got ALL THE ACHIEVEMENTS, MOTHERFUCKER. If you’ve played it, I expect you to be really god damn impressed with me, okay???

A Short Hike

This one was really relaxing! It’s a platformer where you explore an Animal Crossing-y island of cartoon animal people, collecting mobility upgrades- but like, mainly it’s about straight chillin’. The flight controls are fun and there’s lots of little secrets to find and it’s just a nice time that doesn’t drag on too long. Not too much to say about this one.

Pokémon Sword

Ehhhhh.

I’m not here for the hot takes about how Dexit is good actually. Development hell happened, they had to make cuts for time, I get it. It’s disappointing and makes the game a little bit worse, but it’s not the end of the world.

Apart from that... perfectly serviceable? The Wild Area could’ve used a little more technical polish (as could most things in the game, really) but was a step in the right direction, giving the player a wider array of early-game team-building options than ever before. No HMs is good. Story and characters were kind of nothing, but that’s par for the course. “At least this time they’re not shoehorning in some kind of stupid evil-team-wants-legendary-pokemon-to-destroy-the-world apocalypse plot���, I thought to myself before they managed to shoehorn one in at the last minute with zero buildup- but, hey, beats wasting half the game on it.

It’s nothing special and it’s missing a lot of polish, but its problems are mainly due to being rushed, and presumably next gen they’ll be able to reuse a lot of the models and animations (maybe even improve the animations so they’re not so boring??? a man can dream) and make something interesting. SwSh seem like they were testing the waters for something else, and not taking too many chances in the meantime. 

(yo why would you sell all these cosmetic items and then turn them all off during gym battles, though) 

Hades

Hades is- oh, who am I kidding? Everyone knows Hades, it’s the game of the year, greatest thing since sliced bread, Supergiant are heroes, yada yada yada. I’ve played almost 300 hours of it and I’ve completed everything except all the Resources Director levels (currently a Sigma Wraith), it’s extremely fun and you don’t need me to tell you that.

Petal Crash

It was that thing the Paranatural creator helped on? It’s, uh. It’s a block-sliding puzzle game thing, sort of in a Puyo Puyo vein. It has fun character designs and some good dialogue, like you’d expect from Zack’s involvement, but it didn’t really leave an impression otherwise (besides how got dang infuriating some of its Turn Trial puzzles can be.) The story is... kinda heartwarming, kinda didactic, kinda childish, not especially deep or interesting. Hard for it to be, when it’s told through little bits of fluffy character dialogue that exist to set up a puzzle battle as quickly as possible. Not super recommended unless you really really like block-sliding puzzles.

Hollow Knight

Man, why’d I sleep on this for so long? It’s a metroidvania platformer with heavy Dark Souls inspiration, in terms of tone and difficulty and death mechanics and environmental storytelling. And it’s... apart from all that, just really good as a game, with tight controls and juicy movement and great animation. Progression is linked as much to mastery as it is to upgrades collected- I found myself in lategame areas facing down things that would’ve killed me ten times over at the start- not because I had the best gear, but because I’d learned the game’s language and understood how to move in ways that wouldn’t get me killed.

(Usually. Sometimes I’d walk into a room and sit on a bench and suddenly there’d be a boss fight and I’d get slaughtered. Ain’t that just the way it goes?)

Anyway, on top of all that it’s just charming as hell, with a really unique and well-realized world full of little bug people. I love how, like, your character is clearly some kind of eldritch abomination, but it’s small and cute and so everyone (besides enemies that attack you on sight because they’re possessed by some kinda evil mold) is like “awww, who’s this little guy? want some help, little guy?”

(except Zote, who is just an ass hole. i love him.)

#game rec #also some game non recs #long post

[jadekitty777]

On Your Six, Chapter 5

Day 5: Mission Go- Cooking for @taiqrowweek

Wait what do you mean I switched the prompt days around? Dunno what you’re talking about ;)

(Don’t worry it’ll make more sense in the long run)

Rating: T for this chapter, M for overall

Words: 2.5k

Summary: Qrow was what most of society would call a small-town criminal. But to those oppressed, he hoped only to be a healer. In an effort to make a change in the world, he moves from kingdom to kingdom, searching for branded omegas in need. His goal? To turn the derogatory words the reformatories forced them to bear on their skin into works of art.

Then one day, his past catches up to him in the form of Taiyang, his former best friend, with a brand of his own stained onto his skin and a plea for help in his eyes. Qrow has no choice but to answer, even if it means he’d have to face his mistakes once and for all.

[An ABO-style universe in a modern-day style Remnant. No Grimm, because people are the real monsters in this one]

Ao3 Link: On Your Sleeve

~

Tai had started feeding him.

At first, it had begun with little things, shortly following that fateful day he gave him the picture. Prepackaged snacks or fresh fruits or vegetables as a healthy addition to the cheap, instant lunch meals he could easily afford. Then it quickly dissolved into tubberware covered leftovers of various pastas or stews, things that kept well and were well adept at making in large servings.

By late May, with the advent of Qrow’s twenty-sixth birthday, Tai arrived at his place loaded with grocery bags, a proper skillet and a determined purpose to make his favorite dish of chicken curry. It was, hands down, one of the best meals he’d had in years.

Yet, even after the occasion passed, the trend continued until it seemed Sunday became the day his stomach most looked forward too. Normally, Qrow would put up a fight about being doted after – Tai wouldn’t be the first omega to develop the habit. The most prominent of whom had been Maria, whose sessions had to be shorter than most both due to her age and the difficulty working with thinner, more wrinkled skin.

But she had also been a grandmother. A feisty one, who smacked him on the head a lot with her cane, but was also kind and worried and constantly remarking on his too-thin frame until he just gave up and let her do whatever she wanted.

But with Tai, he couldn’t even manage to feign annoyance. In part because Tai’s cooking was damn good and he’d be a fool not to gobble it up at every opportunity. But also, because it gave an excuse for their sessions to run long.

He didn’t even think it was a one-sided endeavor. Beyond the innate omega instinct to care for and Tai’s naturally generous personality, there was a loneliness in those blue eyes that told the truth behind all the fumbled attempts to waste time or make breaks run longer. By July, Tai wasn’t leaving his place until at least ten at night.

Neither of them complained about the arrangement.

Then August rolled around, and Qrow had an absolutely foolish idea.

The first Sunday of the month was on the 5th and it passed with little incident or notice. They were back at the first of the designs, arguably the most complex with the amount of color layers needed, so their dinner was nothing fancy. Just simple sandwiches and side salads, so most of their time could be spent under the needle instead.

He’d banked on that happening so that what would happen next wouldn’t have a chance of paling in comparison.

You busy tonight? He messaged early Wednesday.

Tai responded a few hours later, probably when his first break popped up. No. Why?

Come over after work. I have something to give you. He replied after he’d finished with his client for the day, sometime early afternoon.

The final response was cheeky and towards the end of the school day. You’re about as subtle as a brick.

Almost at 6 P.M. on the dot, there was a knock on his door.

“Coming!” Qrow called, dancing between the kitchen and the table to make sure everything was perfectly in place. He gave it all a satisfactory nod, then hurried over, sliding the door open only enough so he could wedge between it and the threshold, blocking Tai’s view.

The omega looked different, fresh out of work. His blond hair had been lightly gelled, just enough to give it a bit of bounce. The casual wear he was normally in was swapped out for a more professional look; pants and a collared shirt ironed of any wrinkles and shoes shined enough they gleamed.

So of course his eyes fell onto the one thing that completely ruined the look with a teasing snort. “Nice tie, Tai.”

“You like it?” He grinned, pulling at the absolutely hideous yellow abomination that was covered in yapping cartoon corgis. “The kids love ‘em. They call me the Funny Tie Guy.”

Oh Gods. “Bet you get a kick out of it every time.”

“I literally can knot get enough of it.” Tai had the nerve to wink as he said it too.

Qrow groaned. “You are so lucky it’s your day. Speaking of-” He swung the door open, revealing the room with a flourish.

Admittedly, it wasn’t much. Still, it was satisfying to see the way Tai’s face lit up with joy as he spotted the modest little table set for two, dinner already set in their bowls and the most expensive white wine he could reasonably afford already poured. The omega looked from it to him, grin growing, “You did all this?”

“Yeaaah.” Qrow flushed, trying to hide his anxiety. He’d never been great with giving gifts. “Happy birthday ya big lug.”

Tai laughed, throwing an arm over his shoulders and pulling him into a hug. “Thank you. This is just what I wanted.”

He could have stayed there forever – but he didn’t work himself to death to let dinner go cold. He pat his back, mindful of the healing wounds, and said, “Let’s eat.”

Qrow’s relationship with cooking was disjointed and the spread seemed to reflect that. The fried rice was perfect; it was one of the first things his mother taught him how to make on the stove. The garlic broccoli, more of a staple in the Xiao Long family, had a bit of crunch where some of the pieces hadn’t fully cooked through because he hadn’t had Tai beside him to remind him to stir. Just like the many other easy things he helped him learn how to make when he found out he and Raven had been living off nothing but white rice and peanut butter sandwiches for months.

The moo shu pork was the trickiest and most complicated dish by far and nothing he’d ever even attempted before. His amateur hand left it looking a bit of a mess as they poured it onto the tortillas. Unpretty as it was in presentation and lacking a few of the pricier ingredients like oyster sauce and sesame oil, the marinade had the pork still bursting with flavor.  

The wine was there to act as a garnish to make the food seem better than it was. Which was probably why Qrow kept pouring it until he and Tai had split two and a half glasses between each other. Either that, or because Tai was adorably chatty when he was tipsy.

“So, there we are, watching about thirty of these Fayblades spinning around, knocking into each other and some of the cheaper ones are falling apart. Everything is going too fast for any of us to do the math problems on them. And Missy and I just look at each other like we both just realized what a horrible mistake we made. It was only the first week back and I was pretty sure we were about to lose an eye or something.” As he told the story, Tai animatedly gestured around with his glass, liquid sloshing almost past the rim. “We get the kids to back up until they all stop. Then Missy starts gathering a few up, saying how this time we would try less so we can actually keep count – when Velvet speaks up from the back and says ‘Blue wins 124 to 90’.”

Qrow polished off his own glass, setting it on the table. “That’s the quiet one with the rabbit in her bag, right?”

“Mmhmm. She kind of tries to hide when everyone starts looking at her, so I don’t say anything right then. Just take it as fact and move on. But when recess comes around, I pull her aside and ask her how she knew the answer. And she tells me, completely serious mind you, that she’s a camera. So it was easy to do all the math when she basically had the pictures saved in her head. And I’m like, holy shit!” He taps his temple for emphasis. “She has a photographic memory.”

“Ain’t that just a myth?” He asked, starting to gather the empty dishes.

Tai waved him off. “Pfft. Qrow, you gotta stop thinking like the world’s just a big science textbook. It’s more like a-a fairytale! Where magic can happen at any moment.”

“Tai, you’re drunk.”

“I am not!” This time, when he gestured, some of the wine hit the table. He blinked down at it. “Ah, shit!”

He laughed. “Man, you still can’t hold your liquor.”

“You dishonor me.” The omega accused, pointing to his right hand as if it were an exhibit. “I’m holding it just fine.”

That only made him laugh harder, until he had to wipe tears from the corners of his eyes.

~

Somehow, they found themselves laying side by side on the bed, shoulders pressed together. Tai’s scroll was balanced between the head of the bed and the wall, the display playing the finale of their favorite show growing up, Silver Eyes.  It was the height of the final battle. Rosette was locked in battle with Bastinda while the rest of her friends lay, unconscious or ensnared in traps, around them.

“Do you not yet see how pointless this all is? How my power eclipses you all?” Bastinda snarled as she swung her wand down. “You’re all just insignificant riffraff!”

Rosette seemed to find some strength, blocking the attack with her broadsword. “You’re wrong! No one is insignificant! Even the smallest of us has something good to contribute.”

“Foolish child!” A powerful gravity spell threw Rosette to the ground, knocking her sword out of her hand.

“Gods,” Qrow griped. “This is cheesier than I remember.”

Tai shushed him. “Hush, the best part’s coming up!”

He rolled his eyes, but his traitorous mouth smiled all the same. Alright, so maybe this part was pretty hype. Watching it play out again on the screen, he felt ten again, practically glued to screen as his excitement built.

A large shadow stretched across the valley, delaying the witch from striking the final blow as she turned to the source. Up on the hill, sun behind him, was Zwei. Rosette’s little corgi that had been with her from the start of the show. He came racing down the hill, stubby little legs barely able to pick up speed.

Bastinda sneered, pointed her wand at the dog. “Pathetic.”

“Zwei, no!!” Rosette cried, tears filling her eyes just as the blast fired.

It seemed like the end for the lovable pup as smoke filled the air.

And then, with a blast of light, something came flying out of the dust and landing before the witch. The world rumbled under powerful paws as the giant white wolf stood before her, letting out a powerful growl that brought her to her knees.

“I don’t believe it!” Blanca cried from her mirror prison. “Zwei’s a Guardian!”

The rest of the finale played out just as he remembered, Zwei turning the tide of the fight and giving Rosette a chance to free her friends, all of them coming together for one final attack that rid the world of the cruel witch once and for all. After that, the wolf turned back into the lovable and more marketable corgi pup, and everyone headed home to enjoy true peace for the first time in a millennium.

Tai sat up as the credits began to roll, stretching his arms above his head. “I still think it holds up pretty well.”

“Sure, if you ignore the fact they completely sidelined Silver Eyes. It’s only the title of the show.” He snarked.

“Come on now. It’s not about the power ups. It’s about the journey and the-”

“Friends they made alone the way.” He mimed gagging. It was only the motto shoved down his throat at the end of almost every episode.

Tai merely laughed at his antics, picking up his scroll and slipping off the bed. “It’s late. I better head home.”

Maybe it was the vestiges of the alcohol or maybe it was the other’s scent, sweeter and more inviting than usual, that loosened his tongue enough to offer, “You could crash here, if you want.”

“In your bed? We hardly fit.”

Acquiescently, he rolled onto his side, practically shoving himself against the wall as he pat the wide, empty space. “It’ll be fine. And your drunk.”

“Hardly. And I’ll have to get up early to get back home and get ready.”

“It’s fine.” The noise left him involuntarily. It wasn’t a growl, really; it was barely more than a rumble. Regardless, the regret hit him instantly as he bit down on his tongue and turned his face up apologetically.

The omega just arched a brow, entirely unaffected and unimpressed by his pitiful display. Then he chuckled, any meteor-sized tension there could have been burning up long before impact could be made. “Gods, you’re such a punk, you know that?”

“I…uh…”

“Alright, you win.” Tai set the alarm on his scroll with his right hand, while he crossed the room and got the lights with his left. He used the glow coming off of the device to find his way back, dropping it onto the nightstand. In the bits of moonlight coming from the window, Tai became an erotic beauty as he undid his tie and buttons, shrugging out of his shirt. His belt hit the ground next – though mercifully he kept his pants on.

Qrow watched him, utterly transfixed, as he lowed himself to the bed, mattress dipping anew with the readded weight as the omega stretched out onto his stomach. Beyond all comprehension, he had to fight every muscle in his body from reaching for him. The need to bring him close and curl around him was overwhelming. So, he shoved his hands underneath the crook of his neck and locked his elbows.

Why had he thought this was a good idea again?

Tai heaved out a long sigh, mumbling, “Goodnight Qrow.”

He swallowed, voice barely above a whisper as he responded, “G’night.”

Without a clock in the room, there was no telling how long he lay there, coiled up tight like a spring waiting for the pressure to come loose, listening to the sounds of Tai’s breathing slowly evening out. It wasn’t until Qrow was absolutely certain the other wouldn’t wake that he risked it.

Though it felt a bit reprehensible, it was with that same uncontrolled desire in which he found himself scooting his upper half forward, inch by agonizing inch, until the bridge of his nose was pressed up against the curve of Tai’s shoulder.

His eyes slipped shut, breathing in deeply. The omega’s scent swirled around him, sunflowers and soil and bright summer days; a smell that was unmistakably, irrevocably Tai.

Here. With him.

Slowly, the rigidity to his muscles relaxed and he finally drifted off, the scent embracing him as securely as its owner could.

#qrow branwen #taiyang xiao long #Taiqrow #taiqrowweek #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

[kedreeva]

Do you have any advice on how to write faster? Though I do struggle with perfectionism and am working on letting stuff be mediocre on the first pass (done is better than perfect, etc), I'm more talking about the speed with which I can generate words in the first place. It takes me a long time to come up with what I want out of a sentence/paragraph, and even longer to actually put it into words. I've dismissed it before as a personal brain thing, but I'd appreciate your thoughts in case it's not!

I don’t have any advice you’re going to like, honestly.

Because the thing about writing is that it’s just a skill. You do it faster and easier by virtue of doing it more. Except that it’s a skill that you can’t practice somewhat mindlessly to develop muscle memory like you can with sports, and it’s not something you can pull up references for when you get stuck like you can with art. You just have to, like... do it. Over and over and over and over and over. And then do it some more after that. That’s how you learn writing patterns for yourself. That’s how you learn to recognize what you need to do in order to accomplish X without thinking about it for as long.

The other thing is something you’re somewhat already working on but I want to... like... I dunno how to say this but I see it repeated so very often in writers. It’s not just that people get hung up on things being perfect the first time (which they can’t be perfect the first time, and you’re doing AMAZING working on letting go of that). People get hung up on... like.... Every Story Must Matter.

I don’t... know where this came from, or why I never... I dunno, why it was never something I believed or saw, until I started interacting with more writers. I’ve seen so many people with this idea that every piece of writing must be something publishable. I don’t even mean Real Life Bookshelf publishable, even just publishable in some “finished” way on AO3. But oh man, I can tell you, as soon as you let go of that idea, you get better.

When I was in the TW fandom, I used to do askbox prompts. Just... you know, I’d take little prompts and USUALLY limit myself to 300-500ish words, and I’d slam out 2-3 in a night. The writing wasn’t great. It often had spelling mistakes. I never reread them before slapping them up on tumblr. They were just gifts (or attacks, like the Chimera fic was but Annabeth deserved that for what she SAID to me). But importantly, they were practice. And not just, like... I don’t mean that they were “writing an amount of words” practice. The prompts I took were “give me a pairing and 3 words” and then I had to figure out how to fit those things together and tell a story in under 500 words with no editing, 2-3 times a night. That helped me develop my ability to figure out how to put down what I wanted to say, and quickly (in both the time and the space meaning).

The thing is, I never intended for those to be anything polished. They were the equivalent of an artist doing sketches. Some of them were better than others. Some of them were just awful. I had no intention of putting them anywhere useful (I did, eventually, collect them into a chaptered fic on AO3 just before the Tumblr Purge, as a precaution). Most of them got 10-15 notes. Literally it was just a tool and a way to interact nicely with fandom for a while. They were writing doodles.

But that, too, boils down to “doing it over and over and over again.”

And finish things. I cannot stress this enough. I know people with a thousand WIPs and nothing really finished. The problem with that is... you don’t learn how to finish a thing. Which means you’re missing out on how to develop a complete story; because the ending SHOULD have some kind of relation to the beginning, even if it’s just “this is how things have changed/remained the same since the beginning” or something. Without writing the ending, you don’t get to see the whole picture, and that makes it hard to build. Finishing things teaches you which building blocks you’re holding while you’re writing in the beginning, and that’s a REALLY important tool for writing quicker. Without finishing things to learn how whole stories written by you look, you’re putting together a puzzle with no picture on the box.

Which is just “do it over and over and over again- completely.”

There’s a story about a ceramics class that I feel like I try to tell people all the time to express that sometimes it really is just quantity over quality. There was a post going around that pointed out that like less than 1% of Picasso’s works are considered masterpieces. I wrote around 200 of those ficlets I was talking about, and only ever turned a couple of them into worthwhile stories; maybe like 3 or 4.

So just... i dunno. You’re struggling with perfectionism so I don’t know how much this advice will help at all, but just let yourself be bad sometimes. Let stuff not matter as an end goal, not just a “first pass” sort of deal. Sketch some words sometime, doodle something silly in words and toss it. Make lots of small things just to see what shapes they make or what you can do with them.

Artists don’t polish every line they put down. Neither should you, that’s exhausting.

#writing #writing advice #asks #I'm sorry i don't have any better advice #the only other thing I can offer is find a good developmental beta #one that can tell you what you're doing after you've done it #so you can learn to recognize what you're doing #sparrowhawkandco

[alfafilly]

New Year New Me

I want to make a small New Years Resolution this year aimed specifically towards my role in the Sly Cooper fandom. It’s gonna be kinda long and venty so warning!! 

As a bit of backstory, I haven’t been in a fandom/actively drawing fanart since like... 2012 maybe? Like in terms of drawing fanart for the same series routinely. I went through a really stupid phase where I thought fanart was a waste of time because I had been hounded over and over again by peers and those I looked up to that only ORIGINAL © DO NOT STEAL content mattered. I looked down on fanart and used every excuse to belittle fanartists. I dunno if this was also in part due to the last fandom I was in being extremely toxic (that being the Invader Zim fandom. Booooois them 2006-2008 deviantART IZ days were something else) and my college experience constantly telling me “fanart in your portfolio is stinky bad no do that” (which is hotly debated btw).

Anyway... jumping into the Sly Cooper fandom has been extremely positive for me and helping me shed a lot of that negative attitude. Dare I say there was character development?! And while, for the most part, Sly fandom isn’t that toxic, there are elements of it that have caused much chaotic negativity within me that I am hoping to get rid of.

Maybe it’s a result of my former opinions about fanart, but I have always felt a sense of inadequacy, or as if I NEED to make my place in the fandom for me to be relevant and to matter. I have vented about this in the past. My first fanart piece was a compilation of my interpretations of the cast, and it was well received, and everyone talked about how they wanted me to draw more characters, to see more designs, etc. Which is why I said I wanted to redesign ALL the cast because the people DEMANDED IT!! This could be my way of placing myself in the fandom!!! HELL YEAH!!!

But it didn’t make me... happy, I guess? I DO enjoy redesigning, but when I do it under my own terms, with no pressure. I think coming out of art school made me put on blinders and tell myself what I used to believe in: “If you’re going to waste your time on fanart, better make it good. You know, people can hire you if you show good fanart! These redesigns could get you a job in the industry! You gotta ONLY do work that will benefit your end goal and nothing else!!” 

This often made me feel extreme guilt when I started drawing more of my Arpeggio content, or my Arpeggio AUs because despite how much fun I was having, that little voice in the back of my head was saying “No!! Stop drawing that!! Draw stuff that everyone will care about besides just you!!! You’re not going to get anywhere with this!! Drawing sexy Arpeggio won’t get you a job in the industry KJSNJKGNSKNGKJNAJ!!!!”

This mentality also crafted some uhh... extremely negative competitive attitudes towards other artists in the fandom. Certain artists would piss me off every time they posted to the point I would have to block them to stop seeing their work just to prevent these feelings. There is a notable artist I won’t name, but they do Sly redesigns too. I was fine with them initially, but after they blatantly stole one of my designs without crediting me I was LIVID. I called them out and they did apologize and changed the design, but every time I saw their work from then on out I had this insane urge to “beat them”. It was a sick competitive game. I felt jaded they ripped my design and kept getting popular anyway. TBH it’s rather petty and I am trying not to harbor any ill will towards them because I don’t think they meant anything by it and the design was rather insignificant in the whole scheme of things. But I still have them blocked or muted everywhere because I am still struggling to ignore that great urge every time I see their designs to drop everything I’m doing and draw my own redesigns out of unhealthy spite.

And I’m only briefly going to go over the god damn Deceit of Thieves drama. Apparently they are still making it into a legit game? They have a Patreon apparently and are posting stuff about it? I found out about that and the same sort of fiery rage filled me. But this was much less personal. Sure, I had given a critique to them but I honestly wanted the game/story/whatever to flourish? After seeing their poor reactions and being attacked by their white knights, my taste towards them grew bitter and I think my fellow Sly fans having the same bitterness fueled me to flat out grow a hatred for them. That’s kind of awful? I never expected to want another member of the fandom to have their project fail. What kind of asshole am I for wanting that?? I don’t want that. I want them to learn from their mistakes and make something great. Not hold some ridiculous resentment. I can decide not to support them if I wanted, but wishing failure is a whole other horrible thing.

So realizing this I knew I needed to... change my perspective on how I see myself in the fandom and how I process my feelings towards it. I don’t want to be here to produce soulless portfolio worthy content. I don’t want to compete with other artists or wish them ill. I just want to draw some god damn fanart of a series I love and that makes me happy! 

I’m posting this here as a way to hold accountability to myself and be honest. I started drawing Sly stuff again in 2017 so it’s been an issue appearing on and off the last 4 years and that’s... sad. It needs to end! I appreciate everyone in the fandom who has supported me in my endeavors, as ridiculous as they are. I can’t believe drawing and writing about a dumb bird man and cat lady and throwing my stupid OCs into the fray for my favorite childhood game has made me learn so much about myself, my work, and gained me so many great peers and friends. I definitely don’t want to stop any time soon! And I apologize profusely if I ever hurt anyone in some way because I lost sight of that (or was just a dick for whatever reason).

Thanks for your support, and I hope 2021 will bring me loads more positivity into my content!! 

#sly cooper #vent #rant #text post

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter twenty six: wet dreams and frisbees

“I can't believe your dad actually helped us with that,” Eric said aloud to her with a shake of his head. All she knew was she had to be there for real that time around: after their album dropped, her father had invited her back up to the Bay Area before anything else huge happened between them.

The day following the release of that new album in the first week of May and all the while the video for “The Ballad” had hit everyone's television there in the Bay Area and also down in Los Angeles. Sam was sure that Testament hadn't had such a stronghold like that of Metallica given they had started a year after Cliff was killed; but every time she turned around or went anywhere with a television screen, she saw Chuck's face there as he crooned out that song.

There was that plus the video for “Practice What You Preach” which never surfaced as much, but she swore that she saw them everywhere there in California. They always came on after Prince and Michael Jackson it seemed like, and it traded off between the two of them. There came a point in which after not even a week in which Sam began to associate Testament with either doves crying or pretty young things.

It was also around the time she headed back up to the Bay Area when she caught a glimpse of a rather darkly lit video which followed the one for “The Ballad” there in the bus station.

She frowned with the feeling of unfamiliar familiarity. She had no idea where they were from, but she knew them from somewhere. Within time, through the shades of rich royal blue, she recognized Kirk's black curls and Lars' sharp eyebrows. James' eyes pinched shut.

Jason there on the stool with a pair of wire framed glasses upon his nose.

Her mouth dropped open.

It was the first time she had ever seen Metallica in a music video. Even though she couldn't hear the music over the hustle and bustle in the bus station, she could feel it in her bones. The very sight of it almost brought a tear to her eye. Jason there on the stool in Cliff's shoes: there was no way he was echoing him, but rather he continued on from where Cliff had left off in the three years before. She adjusted the brim of her hat and sniffled a bit at the sight up there on the wall.

She thought about it all the way up through the outer rim of Los Angeles and into the Central Valley, such that she had plunked open her journal at one point and sprawled it across her lap. All she could think about was Jason and the pensive look on his face.

She yearned for something rich and dark like black ink for her new drawing, and yet all she had at her disposal at the moment was her kit of pencils. She got about as far as the sketch, albeit in cartoon form, but she had one with her regardless of anything she had with her.

Something to remember her dead love to, and something to exemplify his band's membrance of him as well. It was yet another secret drawing she had on hand, and one that she had no idea as to when she would finish up, either.

In the meantime, there on her second trip back up to San Francisco, Eric and Greg picked her up from the bus station in Hayward and as they drove back to the rehearsal spot together, she remembered the bet she had made with Alex as well. She had drawn him and thus she had to get alone with Greg whenever she found the chance.

She could only hope that Alex had told him about their bet, and if he didn't, there had to be a way in which she could explain it to him and in the best way possible as well. She sat there in the front seat next to Eric: at one point, she peered into the rear view mirror and through the dark lenses of her sunglasses, she noticed Greg tucking a lock of wavy dark hair right behind his ear.

That long hair and that soft scruff on his chin and on either side of his face.

It was hard for her to imagine it, even her having known Greg for a few years at that point. She strove to picture that scruff against her thighs; her holding onto that hair and giving it a pull; figuring each other out. All fuzzy and difficult for her to really think about.

She peered over at Eric and his little baby face from the side.

All five of them with long black hair and round faces, except they were all slightly different in some fashion: Alex with the obvious tuft of gray over the right side of his forehead, Chuck with the similar grave Native American look to his face like Joey, Greg with the scruff on his face, Louie looking serious, and Eric being the odd man out with the look that started it all.

“I just realized I've never really been to Catalina,” Eric said at one point.

“It's gorgeous,” she told him with a sparkling smile, “especially when it snows.”

He frowned at that where she giggled and held her journal close to her lap. They rolled up to a stop sign and he looked over at her, and she had no idea if she was looking at the journal or something else. He gave that smooth stripe of dark hair on the right side of his forehead a little toss back with a flick of his head and then they rolled forward along the block towards that low white brick building in question; right next door was a little bistro. Greg was quick to climb first, even before Eric pulled up the parking lever.

“My goodness,” Sam remarked.

“I know, right?” Eric showed her a little smile.

She took off her sunglasses and ran her fingers through her dark hair, and then he cleared his throat. She turned to him: it looked as though he wasn't ready to climb out of the car as of yet.

“I wanna ask you something,” he started in a soft voice.

“Go ahead.”

“Seeing as you're here and not back East anymore—you wanna do something some time?”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “Like what? Like a date?”

Eric shrugged his shoulders.

“I dunno if you could call it that,” he said, “I just think of when we took you over to Castro Valley to visit the place where James and Lars spread Cliff's ashes, and you and Alex got behind the building there... it was kinda hot, to be perfectly honest with you.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. I catch myself thinking about from time to time.”

“You know, my dad lives there now,” Sam pointed out.

“Oh, yeah, that's right! Have a little fun near your daddy's place.” Eric flashed her a wink at that. “Anyways, I mean it. I wanna do something with you. Like maybe have dinner at your dad's house or something of that nature. I gotta spend a bit with the little Sammich at some point.”

“You're just saying that because I'm a girl surrounded by a bunch of boys,” she scoffed at him, and albeit with a roll of her eyes. He shrugged at that.

“Not necessarily,” he clarified with a raise of his eyebrows. “It could be from the fact that you're a girl who likes to chill with a bunch of boys.”

“I chill with girls, too, you know, Eric,” she pointed out.

“Kinky.”

“Kinky?”

“Kinky.”

“You little fat rat,” she teased him with a shake of her head.

“Little fat rat, is that what you called me?” he chuckled.

“Yeah, 'cause you're little—you're fat—” She reached for a poke of his little belly and he flinched back in the seat, and his face turned bright pink from the feeling.

“I'm not fat,” he scoffed.

“You're chubby,” she corrected herself.

“I'm not chubby, either,” he said. “Chubby means you're cute and round—fat implies you've got too much on you. I'm neither of those things.”

“Really?”

“I dunno. I just think that's the assumption surrounding it and that's according to your dad, too.”

“My dad told you that?”

“Yeah. Your dad is quite the interesting man if I do say so myself. Maybe that's why you're so amazing.”

She gasped at that and then Eric climbed out of there and into the bright sunlight before she said anything further to him. She clutched her journal to her chest and slung the courier bag over her shoulder, and she followed him up to the front step. He held the door for her all the while: she dared not sashay her hips at him with each and every step.

Once she entered that first hallway followed by that cool, dark front room, she spotted Greg before the table on the side of the room with a glass of beer in hand. Alex was nowhere to be seen. She walked on over to him and he turned to her as he took a sip from the glass.

“What's up?” he greeted her; she peered over her shoulder and Eric ducked into the next room over.

“I have to tell you something,” she began in a low voice.

“Go ahead,” Greg encouraged her as he leaned in closer to her.

“Close the door, too—” He did just that with his free hand around her shoulder.

“I dunno if Alex told you this,” she said, “but I made a bet with him that if I draw him, I have to have sex with you.”

Greg hesitated for a second and then he burst out laughing.

“Did you really draw him?” he asked her as he took another sip of that fresh beer.

“I did, yes! And here's proof.”

She opened her journal to that drawing she had made for him back up at her dad's house. Greg took another sip from his glass and he raised his eyebrows at it.

“Oh, shit,” he sputtered. “I'm in trouble now.”

“He also told me to keep it between us—yeah, I don't get it, either.”

“He wants the three of us all to be hot shit,” Greg explained, “at least that's what I think he wants—I dunno, I can't read his mind. That's a gorgeous drawing, by the way.”

“So,” she stated as she closed the journal and gave her hair a toss, “what do you say?”

“Can I at least have my drink first?” he asked her with a sly little smirk on his face.

“Of course! Take your time with it.”

The door swung open right then and it caught the both of them off guard. Sam whirled around and she recognized that rich black curled hair and that little cleft in his chin.

“Hey, Charlie!” she greeted him, and his face lit up when he recognized her.

“Oh, hey!” He threw his arms around her. “Oh my gosh, I feel like I haven't seen you in ages—how are you?”

“I'm well—I've been living!”

“I should tell you—I got in touch with a woman who might help you out with promoting your art because you need it, Sam. You really do.”

“I'm not sure, though, Charlie,” she confessed. “I'm just trying to find my voice in the wake of being in school.”

“Take it anyways,” Greg told her as he took another sip of beer.

“She also offered to help Marla out, too,” he added, “because you ladies are damn well and good at it.” He handed her a little creamy white card with the words “Scarlett Valentine: art agent—New York, New York” inscribed on the front in rich red swirled letters.

“So should I call her whenever I can or whenever it's convenient for her?” she asked him.

“Whenever you can,” he replied, “mention my name, too—tell 'er you've been Benante'd as a result of this.” His expression then turned serious. “Also, I have good news and some bad news, and they kind of go hand in hand.”

“Go ahead,” she coaxed him as she tucked the card into the interior pocket of her purse.

“Good news is Anthrax is heading back into the studio, hopefully soon,” he said in a single breath. “Bad news is I'm not sure what Joey's doing right now, but I don't think he'll be joining us.”

Sam frowned at that. “What do you mean?” she asked him.

“I called him yesterday and we talked—for a long time, almost two hours. He's not really feeling good even though I told him he sounds good and we kind of need him.”

“What do you think he should do?” Greg chimed in from behind her.

“Well, I told him—take your time with it. When it happens, I'll call you and tell you about it. Your well being and your health comes first. I really want him on it, just to clear up any confusions that he might have about it. He thought we had fired him, for god's sake.”

“What if he says yes to it?” Sam added.

“If he says yes to it,” Charlie continued, “it'll be up to him as to how he does it. Vocals come last, you know.”

“Absolutely! I hope he can do it.”

“I hope he can, too,” he admitted. “Scott's written a bunch of new songs and I can't really imagine anyone else singing them. I mean—I can kind of, but I know they would fit Joey's voice like a glove. They were made with him in mind.”

“Who else can you imagine singing them?” Sam asked him.

“Mark from Death Angel, believe it or not. Just 'cause they have a similar range.”

“Yeah, they do!” Greg chuckled at that.

“That reminds me,” Charlie wagged a finger at him, “a word, Gregory.”

He opened the door and stepped out first; Greg followed right behind him, and the last thing he did for Sam was shrug his shoulders.

“Eventually,” he mouthed to her all the while, and then he followed Charlie out of there and back into the hallway. She spotted Alex by the door, and thus, once she tucked her journal into that courier bag, she headed over to him.

“Hey, you,” he greeted her as he took off his sunglasses and showed off those deep eyes to her.

“So that little bet you made with me,” she started with him and with her arms folded across her chest, “how if I drew you, that I had to do it with Greg—” She stopped and he slowly turned his attention to her with his eyes wide open like big marbles.

“Did you?” he blurted out, stunned.

“I almost did. He didn't seem to ready about it—not like you.”

“You'll have other chances,” he said with a wink, and she gave him a little smirk as a result of that and she knew she would have more chances to see sexy Alex at his best as well.

“By the way, what happens if I don't do it with him?” she asked him in a low voice. Alex shifted his weight right before her and then he walked around her back to that room. She followed him back inside, right as he took a seat before that table. He gestured for her to take a seat in front of him, and she did, albeit with her courier bag on the table top next to her. He shifted the chair around so he faced her straight on. He set his hands on her knees and he lingered right before her face as if about to kiss her. Instead his eyes closed part of the way as if he was seducing her right then and there.

“Come on tour with us?” he whispered to her.

“I'd have to pick up and leave more and more, though,” she pointed out.

“You'd be with us, though. You'd be with me.”

“But what about our secret, though? Our keeping ourselves a secret?”

“Greg can take secrets to his grave,” he said, “and I can, too.”

The palms of his hands pressed right into her knees. Her chest rose up a bit as he closed his eyes and took in the smell of her shampoo on the right side of her head. She brought her hands to his chest as if about to push him back. Instead, she stood to her feet and he followed suit.

They were alone in that room together.

She kissed him right on those soft lips and all the while, she kept her hands on his chest. His body was warm and soft even while being so thin. He was so sensual and tender towards her, such that she wondered where this side of Alex had been this whole entire time. He was like a diamond fresh out of a mine, or a rock straight off of the summit of Mount Whitney: all he needed was a bit of polishing and then she could have a better look at him.

She could still taste the ginger from the ginger snaps on his lips.

She could feel that right amount of softness staying perfectly intact all around his hips and his waist. She thought about his sentiments about getting so heavy by the time he reached middle age, and she smirked at the thought of Alex getting chubby while staying as lovely and sensual as ever.

He brought his hands up her back towards the hooks on her bra. She could feel the warmth from his chest and his stomach, that sweet sense of fever. She could feel how firm he was getting in between his legs. She moved her head back from him and she gazed right into those deep eyes.

“Careful,” she warned him in a near whisper. “We go a little bit far with it, I'll end up like Aurora.”

“We won't,” he whispered back to her. “I promise you, Samantha—I won't go that far with it.”

Sam brought her mouth to the side of his neck once again for another little love bite there, but instead she kept her nose there. She relished in his scent, there on his skin and on the underside of his hair. She kept her hands right over his hips: his skin resembled to silk. She imagined him even softer and more tender than ever at one point. The softer and the rounder he was, the more she could hold him and feel him.

“Mmm, baby—” she whispered to him.

“Baby, is that what you called me?” he retorted back to her.

“'Cause you're soft and sweet like a baby,” she told him and she ran her tongue along her top row of teeth. She ran her fingers through his soft black curls and he tilted his head back a bit and showed off more of his neck to her. For a fleeting moment, she thought about that encounter in the closet with Frank back in Charlie's old apartment. The way in which she caressed his soft lush hair, except Alex's hair was even more plush and even lighter. She brought her lips back to his, but she never kissed him.

Instead, she moved her right hand to the front of his jeans.

“What if I—” Her fingers caressed over the zipper and the button. She was about to slither down even further when he flinched back a bit.

“Easy now,” he warned her in a husky voice.

“What?” she teased him.

“You do that, I might not keep it together later tonight when I go to bed.”

“Oh, yeah, like you'd have a wet dream about me.”

He nibbled on his bottom lip and gazed on at her in the dim light: those deep eyes as deep and dark as they had ever been up to that point.

“I actually have had a couple of wet dreams about you,” he confessed.

“Oh, have you now?”

“Yeah. It's funny—I didn't think I'd have wet dreams about anyone before.”

“All dripping wet and hot,” she teased him.

“Not if I get you dripping wet and hot first—”

“You want me to bite you again?” she offered him.

“How 'bout down by my belt this time?” he suggested. “The last time—when you got me right here on my neck—I had hell of a time explaining it to my parents when they saw it. My mom was like 'oh mah gawd, Alex, what were ya doin'!”

She burst out laughing and then she clasped a hand to her mouth so as to not to draw attention to herself. Alex lowered his eyelids a bit as if seducing her himself, but she was the one who had done it in the first place. He lifted the hem of his shirt and showed her his slim stomach to her: the edge of his belt hung right underneath his belly button so she could do it with such ease.

The door hung ajar by about an inch but she knew no one else was around. Eric, Greg, and Charlie had gone somewhere else in there, but they were alone as far as she could tell.

Alex leaned back on the table so she could better reach his waist. With the tips of her fingers, she caressed his smooth white skin there over his belt first.

She brought her teeth onto his skin for a gentle nibble. She tried to imagine him with a bit of weight on his body at the same time, all from eating too many ginger snaps.

To think she was a few inches right above his genitals all the while.

“C'mon, Samantha, you can do it a little harder than that,” he encouraged her with his voice still husky and low. She nibbled a little harder on his skin and he gave her a soft groan from the inside of his throat in return.

“C'mon—you can do it,” he encouraged her again, that time through gritted teeth. A little harder and he started to breathe harder as a result. His chest heaved from the feeling there.

“Oh, god, that's hot—”

She closed his eyes as she nibbled on his skin, a sweet little love bite. Alex breathed harder and he gave her soft little whimpers all the while.

“I'm a bad boy,” he blurted out. “I'm a bad boy! Suck me—suck me—like you did last time—I'm a bad boy, Samantha.”

She put her lips there for a little sucking, and she traded in between the two. Her lips puckered and her teeth ground up against his skin, right there next to his belly button.

More silence ensued on the other side of the door so she traded in between the two for what felt like an eternity. All the while, Alex breathed harder as if he had just run a mile.

She bit extra hard on him and he gasped from the feeling.

“Tasty,” she whispered as she slithered her tongue along that little bit of bruised skin there. She had left a genuine bruise the size of a dime there on his skin, right next to his belly button. Alex let out a low whistle.

“Oh, man, that was hot,” he whispered to her as she finished up with a few little kisses there. “That was really hot.”

“Sam?”

She kept her lips there on Alex's skin as she glanced over to the door. Ruben's voice carried in from right there behind the door.

“Damn it,” he muttered. She gave him another kiss there and then she tickled him there. “Easy now.” He giggled at that and she moved up to his face; he kept his shirt pushed back so she leaned up right against his bare belly and gazed right into those deep eyes. His body was warm and soft, much warmer and softer than before that little vampire bite.

“So now what?” he asked her in a broken voice.

“I go hang out with my daddy now,” she told him, “I think he's gonna take me home, too.”

He pouted his lips to her a bit as if he beckoned another kiss from her. He closed his eyes so his face was extra soft. She moved in closer to him, right before his lips, but neither of them did anything further.

“Go to bed and dream of a beautiful gray stripe,” he breathed right into her mouth. He then looked right into her face, complete with the come hither look in his eyes and a softness about his face.

“You know I will, sweet boy,” she whispered to him.

“Sam?” Ruben called out from the next room.

“I have to go, baby,” she told Alex in a soft voice.

“I'll see you soon,” he vowed to her with a wink. She moved away from him and she ran her fingers through her hair before she picked up her bag and headed out of there, as warm as the sunny day outside. She smiled back at him as he shook his head and in turn his hair about: he showed her his slender neck and his beautiful pale skin all the while. The little tuft of gray over his forehead seemed to glimmer even under the dim light there.

“If you see Aurora again,” he said, still in a husky voice, “you should talk to her.”

“You think so?” she asked him, and he nodded at her.

“You really should.”

“Okay, baby.” She flashed him a wink before she ducked out of there. She spotted Ruben at the far end of the hallway there, and his face lit up at the sight of her.

“There you are!”

She greeted him with a hug and a little pat on the cheek. Ruben treated her to lunch at the bistro next door: they sat there on the porch which overlooked a small stretch of grass, still lush and green with the onset of springtime all around them. While he was inside there, she spotted Zetro and the guys from Exodus on the far side of the grass. She noticed something round and orange over their heads. She knew she had to see more of them as well.

Zetro lifted his right leg and chucked the Frisbee from underneath his thigh to a few kids on the far side. The Frisbee landed on the grass not even a foot away from him and they all burst laughing at that. Sam propped her chin up on the palm of her hand and watched them.

A woman stepped onto the porch right before her, and she recognized that head of black hair and those Korean features. She looked exhausted. It didn't help matters that her belly protruded out so massively at that point, such that her blouse struggled to stay over the roundest part.

“God, Aurora's huge already,” Sam remarked to herself. “She looks like she just ate a whole turkey.” She chuckled at that, but then she thought about what Alex had told her before. She knew what he meant by that: he had forgotten the whole thing between her and Aurora, which meant it was time for her. She took off her sunglasses and Aurora flashed a glimpse over at her before she stepped inside of there.

Her blouse was tight up top and Sam struggled to fathom how she could get any bigger.

“Aurora—” Sam started and she dropped her gaze down to her big belly. She looked as though she was ready to give birth any second there as she pressed a hand to the small of her back.

“Sam,” she greeted back to her.

“C'mere,” Sam coaxed her.

Aurora kept that one hand on top and her other hand on the small of her back. She was enormous and Sam tried to think about her pregnant with her daughters.

“When are you due?” Sam asked her, much to her surprise.

“You know, I'm glad you're here and I'm glad you asked,” she said.

“Really?” Sam glanced over her shoulder as if someone listened in on them.

“I'm due next month, actually,” Aurora continued, “although—” She ran her other hand over her belly. “—it feels like it could be way sooner than that. I'm having a son.”

“Aw, that's cool.”

“You're about to say hello to Theodore Samuel Young-St. Vitus,” she added, to which Sam gasped.

“Samuel!”

Aurora nodded her head and Sam lunged for her with her arms wide open: her breasts were snug and so tight, and her belly rose out before her, as hard as a rock, and yet it felt like hugging her mother. The first time she had hugged her in so long. Those old wounds, while still raw, could heal from the mere sound of his name.

“It's the least I can do,” Aurora explained. “I really feel terrible for having been such a bad friend to you after Emile and I got married. It's my way of apologizing to you as well as thanking you for being such a good friend to me. Being a mom has made me reconsider just about everything, Sam, especially when it comes to my friendships.”

They held one another once again and Sam was about to leak out even more tears.

“We both went to New York from here in California,” she recalled with a slight break in her voice; she moved back again for another look into Aurora's face, round and glowing with the life within her.

“You went with the boys where I settled down with a single boy,” she noted, and her face fell at the sound of that.

“Do you ever feel like you could continue with it?” Sam asked her with a sniffle.

“Somewhat,” she confessed, “although I can't imagine not being a mother, though. I love my daughters and I already love Teddy—”

The door swung open and Ruben stepped back out onto the porch with a root beer float in either hand. Zetro said something on the far side of the grass right then, something about Exodus' new album being about women and children first; Aurora backed up from him.

“Oh, my god, those look good,” she remarked as he took his seat across from Sam.

“Sam's mother always wanted ice cream when she was pregnant, too,” Ruben joked. Aurora kept one hand on her lower back as she headed inside for something. Sam picked up her glass and held it out as to give a toast.

“To our boys, Testament,” she said.

“To our boys,” Ruben echoed, and they clinked their glasses together. Sam sipped through the red and white striped straw right then.

“Aurora's a trooper,” he noted. “When your mom was about to have you, she had lots of energy. Even the day she gave birth to you, it was like nothing was about to slow her down.” He shook his head. “Not gonna lie to you, Sam. I miss your mom sometimes.”

“What's done is done, though,” she said.

“What's done is done, right. It's a new chapter of life.”

“She's having a little boy,” she told him, “and they're naming him Theodore Samuel Young-St. Vitus.”

Ruben raised his eyebrows at that.

“His middle name is gonna be Samuel!” he exclaimed, and Sam couldn't help but choke up at that.

“She's naming her kid after me,” she sputtered, and Ruben stood up and held her close to him. She sniffled and brushed a tear from her eye. “Teddy. He's gonna be named Teddy, too.”

“I just think of teddy bears,” Ruben confessed, “or better yet—graham crackers.”

Sam thought about Alex right then. She thought of running her hand down the small of his back and she pressed herself closer to his body. Still soft despite having reached his twenties and having lost enough weight to where he was so thin. Soft like a teddy bear himself.

Holding Aurora close to her body made her want to hold onto him even more as she gave her father a big hug.

#fanfic #fanfiction #chapter 26 #souls of black #book four #fever in fever out #fever in fever out fanfic #eric peterson #greg christian #alex skolnick #charlie benante #testament fanfic #testament band #testament #anthrax #anthrax fanfic #oc tag #mild smut #also on ao3 #also on wattpad #writing #text

[aellynera]

Don’t Forget the Napkins (Llewyn Davis x Reader)

DON’T FORGET THE NAPKINS

Word count: 2733(ish)

Warnings: Just a little bit of language, really (I mean, it’s Llewyn, so...) Like one sentence about Pappi’s creepy tendencies.

(with prompts: “Call me now, it’s urgent”; “Have you lost your mind”; and “So...can we go eat?”)

Another Saturday night at the Gaslight. There was nothing odd about that, it was where you spent pretty much every Saturday night for the past year and half, working behind the bar and waiting on the tables out by the stage when needed. Sure, it was dark, smoky, and kind of dingy, but it helped make ends meet and you got to listen to music for free.

The music is what you had first come to the Gaslight for, right after you graduated from college and moved to the big city. You loved the music and started coming in every chance you got, no matter who was on stage, just to sit in the room in the moment and experience the music. Pappi had taken a shine to you, said you reminded him of his little sister. You had no idea if he really had a sister, nor did you care, but it was certainly less creepy than Pappi telling you it was because he wanted to fuck you, so you let it slide. You had heard him make the latter suggestion to more performers than you cared to admit, but he was a decent boss and you got on well at the job, so it all worked out.

You had majored in English and wanted to be a famous writer, maybe even write some songs that people would talk about and still sing years from now, so where else would you go other than New York City? That’s where the culture was. That’s where the art scene was. That’s where the nightlife and bright lights and intellectuals were. And that’s also where Llewyn Davis was.

Llewyn. Now there was a riddle wrapped in an enigma inside a mystery.

You had seen him perform quite a few times at the Gaslight, and even bought his record when it came out. You talked to him just about every time he was there, because he always sat at the bar both before and after he performed. He had seemed quiet at first; well, he still did, really, but by now you knew the right combination of idle chit-chat, soft smiles, and whiskey straight up to get him to drop the first line of defense. Once that happened, he would talk to you all night. And if you weren’t busy, you’d let him. At some point, you had told him about your dreams of writing and creating songs that people wanted to sing (there was no way you were going to sing them yourself, at least not in public; your stage fright was too monumental and soul crushing). He had just looked at you thoughtfully for a moment, pushing one of his perfect dark curls off his face, then finished his drink and went up on the stage. When he came back, he ordered another drink and started up random conversation again. Then the night was over.

And that was his mystery - he spoke of many things, but he never really told you anything. You had an easy back and forth, a friendship even, but it felt like he never let on more than the bare minimum.

But the night after you had told him about the songwriting, you had come in to work and there was a note for you behind the bar. Two lines, scribbled on a napkin. You read them a few times and realized it was maybe the beginning of a poem...or lyrics. So you quickly wrote two more lines, and when Llewyn came in that night, you walked up to him and stuck the folded napkin in his pocket. He looked surprised, but you caught the slight upturn of his lips a few minutes later when he took it out, looked at it, and then carefully put it back in his pocket.

The next night, the napkin was back. Two more lines. So you added two more. The same thing the next day. And the next, and the day after that. It kind of became your thing, without anything else ever being said about it. Sometimes there was a whole verse written out and you would start a chorus, and vice versa. Once it was one word at a time and that had honestly gone off the rails pretty quickly, but it was fun.

And it had been going on for just about a year. You saw it as a mental game to keep your writing sharp and your brain engaged and your friend entertained. He certainly did more than his fair share in entertainment from his stool on the stage.

So when you got to work that night, it wasn’t a surprise to find another napkin meticulously folded and placed behind the bar where you normally stowed your pocketbook and keys. The place was more packed than usual, but there was some new guy named Dylan or something that was playing and there was a lot of buzz around him. So that was normal too. Smiling to yourself, you picked up the napkin and read the familiar scrawl.

Call me now, it’s urgent.

That was..not normal. Your face scrunched up in confusion, you quickly looked up and caught the mop of dark curls hunched over at the end of the bar. Grabbing a clean bar towel and the bottle of his favorite whiskey, you made your way over.

“Oh...good, you got my message,” he said, raising his eyes ever so slightly to meet yours over the rim of his tumbler. They were (beautiful and dark and compelling and soft and…) sort of glassy and red around the edges and maybe a little bloodshot? And was that a smirk inching its way onto his lips? You sighed.

“You’re sitting right here, Llewyn,” you said, taking the glass from his hand and refilling it without him asking. You pushed it back to him. “So thank you for saving me the dime.”

He snorted. “Come on, it was...a little funny, right?”

You shook your head, but you couldn’t keep your own small smile off your face. Did he realize the irony that you wouldn’t have been able to call him anyway, since you never really knew where he would be staying? “And you’re a little pissed already, huh? Isn’t it a bit early for that?”

“Nah, not really. And I’m not drunk. I am alcoholically reinforced,” he took another sip of his drink.

“...what does that even mean?”

He shook his head, that one particular curl flopping over his forehead and into (those beautiful, soulful, deep, enchanting…) his eyes. He totally ignored your question. “So, uh, look,” he started, suddenly seeming a bit more unsure of himself. “I really wanted to ask you, if…”

“No, you cannot borrow my couch tonight, Llewyn. My sister is in town.” You idly wiped at the bar top with your towel, raising an eyebrow at him.

For a split second he looked offended, but it was so brief you almost missed it. “What? No, no, I don’t need a place to...look, I just needed to tell you...well, ask you really, but also tell you…”

“Hey, Llewyn!” Pappi’s voice suddenly boomed from the other side of the room. “Lay off the help and get your ass up on stage! You’re not gettin’ half the basket just to sit here and drink all my booze!”

Llewyn sighed. “Yeah, yeah, all right,” he yelled back. His attention turned back to you. “So, listen, really though I need to…”

You swatted at him with the towel. “You need to finish that glass and get up there before we both get in trouble, is what you need to do. It looks like it’s gonna be a crazy night, I’ll catch you after, yeah? We’ll go grab a burger at that place down the block, my treat.” You flashed him a grin as you walked away before he could say anything else. And by say anything else, you really meant say no, because that man needed to eat a good, hot meal. As usual.

Llewyn watched you walk off and start tending to other patrons, then threw back the rest of his glass in one gulp. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath as he walked to the stage. “Please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me…”

As Llewyn picked up his guitar and got himself situated, you filled drink orders and watched him as you did so. It was getting harder to deny that he was the most beautiful man you had ever seen, especially when he was up there, under the single spotlight and surrounded by the smoky haze of the crowd and his own cigarette smoke. There was just something about him. But the puzzle and mystery and enigma hung over everything and you were fairly certain you’d never crack the actual code, so you just let your crush be a crush. It was part of what made the Gaslight worth it, after all.

The night went on, busy and loud and musical. This particular crowd was really getting into his set and you couldn’t help but feel proud of him. He deserved the attention, and you knew he wanted it, even if he liked to pretend he didn’t. After a few songs, you took a pint glass of water up to the stage. It was something you always did for performers, but especially for Llewyn (since he tended to drink more than his fair share of whiskey in the meantime). You were about halfway to the stage when he strummed a few notes and started to introduce his next song.

“So, uh...well, this is a new song for me,” he started, noticing you coming his way. “And I didn’t really plan on doing this until maybe about an hour or so ago, but well...I dunno, sometimes when something just feels right, it’s right, you know?” His eyes meet yours as you set the glass on the small table next to him on the stage, and he momentarily seems to search for the next words.

“Y’know I usually work alone, but, uh, I wrote this next song with a friend. A good friend. Someone who is really talented and good with words, better with words than I am. And...and she doesn’t know I’m doing this but I’ll ask for forgiveness later.” He chuckled and the crowd did too in response.

Llewyn cleared his throat. “So, yeah. This is a song I wrote with the help of a lovely lady you probably all know. If you do, ask her to make you a drink, and if you don’t, well, go back to the bar and introduce yourself.”

You were almost to the back of the room, back to said bar, when your eyes shot wide and you spun on your heel to face the stage. Oh no, he did not just...did he? It’s kind of hard to clearly see his face from back here with the light and the glare in the smoke but you could swear that jerk is grinning, like full on guilty smiling, and in that instant you swore if you weren’t working and there weren’t so many people shoved into this space you might go up there and actually punch him. Your face was on fire and your stomach felt like it was going to drop out the bottoms of your feet. Your mouth dropped open before you could stop it.

Every pair of eyes in the room suddenly turned on you. There were maybe a hundred people there? Around that many. A hundred people times two and that’s how many eyes were suddenly staring right at you. There was only one pair of eyes you really cared about, though.

You managed to catch Llewyn’s eyes for a moment and you mouthed at him - Have you lost your mind? He shrugged slightly, closed his eyes, and started playing his...your...song.

It was beautiful. From the second line you recognized the napkin it had come from, one that got passed back and forth about four months ago, during a particularly cold week when it didn’t quite snow but the rain was still frozen. It was a back and forth about two people realizing they were in love but being too afraid and preoccupied and aloof to do or say anything about it. Typical unrequited love stuff. But oh, suddenly, oh now it had much more meaning. You listened, and watched, from the corner behind the bar, transfixed and unable to look away as every emotion you knew and some you never knew existed washed over you in time with the notes from the guitar and Llewyn’s gorgeous voice.

Once the song ended, you somewhat got your bearings and turned back to the bar. People were already coming over to tell you how beautiful the song was, ask if you really wrote it with Llewyn Davis, tell you how much they enjoyed it, ask if you had written any others...you were only vaguely aware of most of it and managed to pour some drinks and answered things as best you could, until finally one voice broke through all the others.

“So. Um. Did you like it?”

You closed your eyes for a minute, biting your lip. “Llewyn...I...what just happened?”

He looked down for a second, then reached over and took the glass you were holding and the bar towel out of your hands. He gently wrapped his fingers around yours, giving you a light squeeze. He didn’t say anything for a few more seconds, but when you didn’t pull away, he continued, “I tried to tell you...shit, I kept every single one of those napkins since we started doing that, and I turned some of ‘em into a song and wanted to play it tonight. I tried, but...well...fuck, you’re not mad at me are you?”

You weren’t mad. God, you were anything but mad at this man. Stunned, and surprised, yes, but definitely not mad. He kept all those napkins? You’d always half-wondered what happened to them, but never really gave it much thought, but you hadn’t really expected that to be the answer. Your brain still couldn’t quite process your own words correctly, so you just shook your head no and squeezed his hands in return.

Llewyn let out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, thank fuck. For a few minutes there I thought I really fucked things up.”

You finally got your head back straight and laughed. “No, you didn’t,” you smiled. You cocked your head to the side and studied his face for a moment. “I still can’t quite figure you out, but you definitely did not fuck anything up.”

“Good,” he nodded. He lifted your fingers to his lips and brushed his lips along your knuckles, suddenly pulling away when Pappi snorted from his corner of the bar. You both turned to him, scowls on your faces, and Llewyn whipped the bar towel at Pappi’s head.

“So...can we go eat?” Llewyn asked, turning his attention back to you and ignoring Pappi’s continued string of bemused and somewhat lewd sounds.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Eat. Y’know, burgers? At that joint down the street? You said something earlier about buying me dinner?” Llewyn asked dryly.

You rolled your eyes. “Seriously? You sing me a song that I helped you write, and then you expect me to buy you dinner.”

“Well, you did offer.”

You bit your lip again as your smile grew wider and a blush crept further up your face. “Okay. But make sure you don’t lose these, we’re going to need them.” You grabbed a few pens from underneath the bar before coming around to his side and shoving them in Llewyn’s coat pocket.

“Okay, sure? But what are those for?” he asked, slipping and arm around your waist and leading you to the door.

“Because,” you replied, your tone implying that he should already know, “there are a lot of napkins floating around that place.”

Llewyn pulled you a little closer and you smiled into his embrace. “Ohhhhh.”

“And Llewyn?”

“Yeah?”

“I wasn’t kidding about the couch, my sister really is in town. But I’ve got a much more comfortable place you can stay tonight.”

~end~

#oscar isaac #inside llewyn davis #llewyn davis #llewyn davis x reader #llewyn davis x you #prompt fic #fluff

[chaseatinydream]

first kiss || j.wy (atz)

➵ pairing: reader x jung wooyoung (ateez)

➵ word count: 3148

➵ genre: convenience store date; confession; fluff

➵ synopsis: wooyoung just wanted cup ramen at 12:05am with a dash of seasoning “you”.

>>>

You’re startled out of sleep by the ringing of your phone.

For a moment, you’re tempted to reach for the accursed device and hurl it at the wall, but rational thought catches you before you can do so… that phone was expensive. Sitting up groggily, you push back the messy hair falling into your eyes and glare at your alarm clock. You feel like you’ve barely slept since the night before.

And with good reason, because it’s only freaking 12:03 AM in the bloody morning.

Your phone rings again and you scowl at it, willing it to somehow magically shut up so you don’t have to get up from under the warm covers of your bed, but alas, you don’t have any telekinetic powers and are required to crawl over to it like a poor, ordinary human being.

Flipping your phone around, you almost screech in agony as the unholy brightness of the screen seems to sear your eyes and you chuck it to the side. You barely got a glimpse of the Caller ID, but a mere glance at those first few letters is enough for you to know who it is.

Only one person is close enough (and also stupid) to call you in the middle of the night without fear of violent retribution the next day.

Grumbling to yourself, one hand fumbles for the device and you press it to your ear, burying your face into the plush pillows. You want to go back to sleep.

“What is it, Wooyoung?”

Wooyoung’s voice is much too cheerful for a Tuesday night, but its energy is infectious, as much as you hate to admit it. You don’t need to, he knows it already, that the longer he keeps you on the phone, the higher his chances are of you acquising to his often ridiculous requests. Knowing Wooyoung, it’s probably going to the nearest convenience store to buy ice cream in the middle of winter.

“Hey! How’s my favourite best friend in the whole world doing, Chin Hae?”

Honestly, you sometimes wonder if Wooyoung is a vampire. He never seems to sleep, living and thriving purely off a diet of caffeine and energy drinks and perhaps human blood. Maybe you should start wearing garlic the next time you see him.

“I dunno, but I’m pretty sure San is at home cuddling with Shiber in his sleep.” You reply with a completely deadpan voice, not at all amused at being woken up so early at night. Early at night? Or is it the morning? Late at night? Why are you even thinking about this?

“Aww, you know that you’re my best friend.” You can practically hear the pout on his face over the phone and let out a massive snort, rolling over on your bed to stare at the ceiling, internally letting out a massive sigh.

Best friend. A goddamn best friend is all you are to him. Stupid Jung Wooyoung and his stupid pretty eyes, stupid pretty face, stupid pretty everything. The two of you had met a couple of years back when you’d first started college, seated next to each other on the first day of school. Upon glancing upon his face, you had nearly choked. Knife like jawline, near flawless skin, adorably big eyes behind rounded minimalist glasses, you had momentarily wondered what a model was doing in your school. He could pull off silver hair without looking like an eighty year old man, for god’s sake.

Next to you, no less. You didn’t like how he was making you look like a pig just by existing.

That had already been enough for you to instinctively dislike him, so when the professor had asked for all of you to introduce yourselves to each other, you had intended to give him some silly, standoffish answer and never speak to him again. You knew it was petty, yes, but who had given him the right to look so good?

No one. That’s who.

But to your absolute shock, the young man had simply grabbed your hand and pumped it up and down enthusiastically, seemingly overflowing with too much energy to contain.

“You look like my new best friend!”

And everything had sort of… gone downhill from there.

Being Wooyoung’s best friend is somehow simultaneously one of the most beautiful and terrible things you’ve ever had to experience. He’s unbelievably kind, unlike what you had expected from such a pretty face, and possibly one of the most perfect beings to walk the surface of this earth. That’s the good part. You sometimes still can’t believe you’re friends.

The bad part is that you’re in love with him.

It’s no surprise, honestly. Who in this school isn’t in love with Jung Wooyoung? What you hate is that there are so many prettier, sweeter, nicer girls who all want a chance with your best friend, and you find yourself constantly grinding your teeth as they pass you love letters and chocolates with perfectly manicured hands, fighting the urge to throw them in the trash right before their eyes. You wish you could be half as bold as they are, but every time you so much as muster the courage to open your mouth to confess, Wooyoung’s breathless grin stops all brain activity and it just… somehow hasn’t happened for the last three months.

Swift and decisive, that’s you alright.

You scream into your pillow.

Best friend. Oooooh, you hate the sound of those words like it’s the screeching of the devil itself.

“Uhh, Chin Hae? You alright there?” Wooyoung’s voice suddenly drops in tone, a little more concerned and you’re tempted to chuck your phone out of the window while screaming obscenities to the heavens. He’s really not helping with this whole barely buried crush on him. In fact, you’re not sure how he hasn’t noticed. You’re pretty sure San already has.

But the phone. The phone is expensive.

You try your best to force a smile back on your face even though he can’t see it, raising the phone back to your ear. “I’m fine, Wooyoung. And don’t think I’ve forgotten that you woke me up. Why exactly did you call me again?”

There’s a brief pause at the other end of the line.

“Do you wanna go and grab some cup ramen?”

You actually lift the phone away from your ear to stare at the screen, as if Wooyoung would be able to see your incredulous face somehow. “Wooyoung, it’s 12.03 in the morning.”

“12:05, actually.” Wooyoung pipes up unhelpfully in a hopeful voice and you groan, rolling out of bed as you search for something appropriate to wear in this ungodly temperature, hoping that your fingers and toes won’t freeze off in the meantime. Shivering and dancing around once your feet touch what feels like an ice block under your feet, the cool marble of your bedroom floor chills you to the very bone.

“Ah, cold, cold, cold!” You yelp, scooting over to the wardrobe as fast as you can, fingers rifling through your selection of puffy coats before they still momentarily on a furry collar. You glance down at your current outfit, a lumpy, knitted sweater and fuzzy socks with reindeer print on them. Maybe you should wear something that looks better in front of Wooyoung?

“Chin Hae? Hurry up, it’s cold out here!” Wooyoung exclaims into your ear, pulling you out of your thoughts. Sighing, you shake you head as you imagine your best friend with an adorable pout on his stupid perfect face, pulling out the thickest black coat you have, one that Wooyoung gave to you a couple of months ago. Then something strikes you.

“You’re there already? Without knowing whether I’d be coming? In this weather?” You say almost incredulously as you shrug on the coat, adjusting the sleeves to fit better around your arms, the phone wedged in the space between your cheek and shoulder.

“Well, I knew you’d come!” Wooyoung says proudly, voice filled with so much surety that you’re tempted to cry for a moment. Maybe it’s just your infatuation, but everything he’s said lately has caused butterflies to flutter in your chest. You both love and hate the feeling at the same time, but it’s not like you’ve had much control over it. “I’m such an amazing friend-”

“Are you stupid?” You grumble, slipping down the hallway and grabbing your boots from the door side. Wooyoung gasps dramatically over the phone at your words.

“How dare you? I am hurt, you know. Are you questioning my mental capabilities?”

“Every single day.” You retort dryly, opening the door only to get hit by a blast of cold air right in the face. Holy shit it’s so cold you’re going to turn into an ice popsicle before you leave the house and maybe you should just go back to that warm, comfy bed-

Wooyoung’s laugh and perky voice comes over the speaker, echoing in your ears. “I’m waiting for you! Be there or be square!”

Before you can protest that he’s absolutely off his rocker for thinking that anyone in their right mind would leave the comfort of their home in this near hellish weather, the call ends and you’re left staring at your phone in wide eyed shock. His contact photo blinks back innocently at you, cheerful, bubbly smile on full display with his arms thrown around your shoulders, the two of you splattered with bright green and red paint after finishing your art project a year ago.

“I’d take being a square any day.” You mumble, then you smack yourself in the head and groan when you feel your heart melting. You’re not supposed to be this whipped for him, damnit! But you can’t find it in yourself to get angry at him in the least.

“You’re lucky I love you.” You hiss vehemently at your phone. And as you stalk towards the convenience store with murder in your eyes, you can’t help but feel like you really need to get over this stupid crush on Wooyoung before he makes you do something stupid.

When you do reach the midnight convenience store, it’s open and you step inside, glad to be free from the bite of the icy winds. It’s absolutely freezing out there, how Wooyoung can come out with the most ridiculous of plans is something you love about him, but will probably never understand.

Standing in the aisle, you wave at the lone cashier at the counter, he’s playing a game on his phone but returns your greeting, and your eyes scan the rows of snacks and bottled drinks in search of your best friend.

“You made it!”

A frightened squeak leaves your lips as you startle at the noise. Then you see Wooyoung sitting at the table near the glass wall with five cups of ramen before him, an endearing shit eating grin on his face.

You smack him in the shoulder hard as you slide into the seat next to him, grabbing your own cup from him with a pout. Wooyoung chuckles in amusement, rubbing at his arm in mock pain.

“I can’t believe you made me come all the way here for cup ramen in the middle of the night.” You tell him with a scowl on your face as you open up the lid. Steam creeps over your numb fingers and warms them up, and you grab your chopsticks to eat your ramen as fast as possible.

After that trek through all that snow, you’re ravenous.

“Hey, don’t eat so fast or-”

Shoveling the piping hot ramen into your mouth, you nearly choke on the first bite as the noodles scald your tongue. Coughing, you set the cup and chopsticks down and you can hear Wooyoung laughing hysterically at your side, his high pitched laughter bouncing off the walls of the empty store.

“Stop-” You cough again and hit Wooyoung on the arm in embarrassment. God, you should have never left the safety of your house. “Stop laughing at me!”

“Alright, alright.” He stifles his chuckles, passing you an uncapped bottle of iced coffee. Grumbling about betrayal and false friendships, you snatch it from him and down what’s left, his warm hands coming up to rub your back soothingly.

“You’re wearing those socks I bought you last Christmas. You swore you threw them out the second you unwrapped them.” Wooyoung remarks with a teasing grin and you growl at him, slapping a hand over his mouth.

“You saw nothing.” You whisper menacingly into his ear, Wooyoung’s eyes glinting with amusement as his gaze meet yours. Your heart stutters for a second.

Then he sticks out his tongue to brush your palm.

“Ew!” You yelp and yank your arm back from his face, only to find him howling with mirth. Scowling, you plop back in your seat and grumble under your breath, picking up your chopsticks.

For the next hour or so, you and Wooyoung eat cup ramen side by side and watch the snowflakes outside fall gently to the ground, covering your footprints from earlier in a blanket of soft, powdery white. Wooyoung speeds his way through the first two cups of ramen before finally slowing down on the third one, his lips adorably red and swollen from the spicy taste. The two of you talk about nothing and everything, merely enjoying the company of each other.

When the two of you step out of the convenience shop and start on the road home, the snow has stopped for the most part aside from a few stray snowflakes here and there, but it’s still freezing cold. You raise your hands to your mouth to blow on them and rub them together, shaking your head in exasperation.

“I still can’t believe you ate five whole cups on your own, Wooyoung.”

“You know me, babe.” He winks impishly at you, but then his gaze softens a little as he looks at you with a fond smile. You watch the snowflakes land in his soft grey hair and for a moment, he looks so ethereal that he really just steals your breath away.

“Don’t call me that.” You bop him on the nose and he jumps, taking your hands into his.

“You’re freezing!” He comments with a pout, puffing out hot little breaths over your fingers. You try to wipe the warm, content smile off your face before he can see it, fixing your face into a scowl.

“Of course I am, who do you think dragged me out at 12:03 in the morning to eat cup ramen?” You shake your head in exasperation as you glance at the head of silvery grey hair before you, his head rising to give you a mischievous grin.

“Alright...” He drags the word out playfully, his cheeks flush from the cold. “Where else do you want me to warm you up?”

You point to your cheeks. The sides of your face feel near frozen. “Here.”

Wooyoung ducks to the side, blowing warm air on each cold cheek. They turn red upon contact with his breath, whether it’s from the cold or embarrassment, you hope he never finds out. “Where else?”

You point to your ears. You can’t see them for yourself, but Wooyoung has always told you that they flush pink in the cold winter air. Wooyoung grins and blows on each too, and warm blood rushes there in response to his touch. “And?”

You point to your nose. “It’s cold here.”

Wooyoung’s face leans forward to meet yours and your eyes slide shut. His breath ghosts over your nose, tickling you just a little, and you can feel his lips brush against your skin ever so gently before he pulls away.

“Where else?” He hums, squeezing your hands lightly in his. There’s a distinctively teasing smile playing on his lips. You touch your own in response.

“Here.” You point at your lips. They get cold fast, and in the winter they always get chapped, which you absolutely hate-

Wooyoung’s mouth dips down to meet yours.

You don’t register it for a moment, the taste of spicy ramen lingering on your lips as you ponder the flavour. It’s faint, not quite as strong as earlier, and you mumble against his lips. “You really ate too much ramen, Wooyoung, even your mouth tastes spicy now-”

Then you freeze.

Your eyes fly open in shock at what has just happened, a sharp intake of breath passing your lips. Wooyoung looks temporarily confused for a moment, before he too, realises what he’s just done.

The two of you spring apart, both turning red as tomatoes. You gape at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, your brain short circuiting as if you’ve walked straight into a power generator.

“You kissed-”

“I kissed-”

The two of you fall into utter silence for a moment, merely staring at each other in shock. Wooyoung’s face is as red as a cherry, a rosy red blush spreading across his cheeks and down his neck, mouth sputtering out nonsensical words of its own accord. “You... I... if... kiss... become...girlfriend?”

You shriek and bolt down the path at the last word.

Your short circuited brain can’t take any more.

Wooyoung sighs as he watches you go, shaking his head under his breath. Yes, he has feelings for you. Yes, he has been crushing on you for the last six months. Yes, he has asked you out tonight to enjoy your company because he loved seeing you like that, face bare and hair thrown into a messy bun, completely and utterly real.

But he never intended on kissing you out of the blue!

“I... I just need to apologize to her tomorrow and tell her it was all a mistake.” Wooyoung runs a hand through his hair, teeth worrying his bottom lip anxiously. What if you’re too awkward to look him in the eye after this? He smacks himself in the forehead with a groan.

He’s such an idiot.

Suddenly, he hears the sound of crunching snow and blinks in confusion, raising his head. The second he does, soft, warm lips press against his too, moving so gently he feels all the air leave his lungs in one gasp.

Then all too fast, you pull away and Wooyoung only blinks at you owlishly in shock.

“Your lips were cold too!” You shout in his ears, face burning bright crimson with embarrassment. “See you tomorrow, Wooyoung!”

And then you’re running off again at top speed, nearly slipping on the snowy road and his heart leaps into his chest in a panic. But you catch your balance, slipping and sliding, before disappearing around the corner of the street.

His tongue darts out, sliding across his lips in wonderment.

His first kiss tastes like spicy ramen, iced coffee and best of all...

You.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez wooyoung #jung wooyoung #w; wooyoung #w; oneshot