#cannot quell my passions

[lanaevyssmoved]

👀 what if I was interested in that Gale poly rant but in a positive way?

LKSJFDLKFJGDFG i can't use the rant on you then because it would be too clinical and i would angry swear sometimes probably

but honestly like. first we need to talk about halsin . wait first we need to talk about poly as a sexuality

i'm going to try and not turn this into a massive character analysis or analysis of queer identity in media etc so i will attempt to retain my humour throughout to ground me

people who are poly tend to sit on either side of a coin. poly is a preferred state of relationship, or just a state of relationship they enjoy, and they can do just fine with monogamy, and everything is chill - ultimate relaxed person mode. the other side is the group of poly individuals who view poly as important to them and their sexual identity as being straight or gay or bisexual or pansexual or any other identity. for them it is part of the queer umbrella and it is fundamental to their being, they can't turn it off, they can't be ok with monogamy, this is who they are.

for reference, halsin is the latter. poly is part of his sexual identity.

halsins poly rep is, spoken from a poly person, ok. it is ok. it's not good, it's not bad. it's mostly the stuff around halsin i don't like. (and i am not going to talk about his drow situation, for reference, because that shit goes beyond poly rep.) making halsin token poly, for lack of a better word, would realistically be fine in most situations, in fact i've talked with aisling about this and i would have preferred they made him poly with no poly options in the game to go with him over what we got - we can't forget he was added late, he isn't as fleshed out, he feels a bit misplaced sometimes, and his poly goes hand in hand with that. he could have existed as a poly character, which nearly all wood elves are in canon, without shoving in some poly options for him with existing companions who would explore that with anyone else despite the game allowing you to romance those companions with the other companions if you play as them? and they flirt with each other in banter quite regularly? i don't know. it feels very like, o shit we gotta make him poly he's a wood elf! and he's a druid! but we have no options for him! who are the easiest to add without it feeling odd??? like idk. it doesn't feel great from a poly pov, and if you enjoy like halsin x shart x tav or halsin x astarion x tav that's totally cool - i am not dismissing these at all because i don't fucking care about canon so even if it didn't exist in canon in a way i don't really like, i would still be cool with it.

our poly rep leaves much to be desired, tldr.

i am happy it exists, however. and my hope is that one day in the future when we have an rpg where every romance option is bisexual or pansexual that they are also poly. that is my ultimate ideal for the future of these situations in gaming. i know some people are uncomfortable with poly, but that's why we refer to what i first said. you can have characters like halsin where it is fundamental to their being - they will never be monogamous, you cannot change them. but you can also have individuals who are cool with monogamy if you're not comfortable with polyamory. i want characters who will date each other on their own, and you can join the polycule, or get involved with just one of them. i want devs to be open minded and not give us a token polyamorous character and instead explore it in better ways.

i have known many poly people, i've dated poly people of both sides of the coin, i've been involved with people who are married to someone they don't live with but have nesting partners (a partner they live with who isn't their spouse) and multiple partners on the side and follow the hierarchy side of poly. my ex helped me understand poly as a sexuality and they also didn't subscribe to poly hierarchy and all their partners would be equal. poly is an expansive identity and it deserves the attention and respect other queer identities do.

a poly person creating poly ships and poly situationships with a character or characters who are confirmed monogamous is the same to me as a gay person creating gay ships and gay situationships with a character or characters who are confirmed straight. and that might be divisive, because many people, including queer people are not ready for or not comfortable with polyamory yet in their spaces. now i can be respectful of people who have trauma around polyamory because they were involved with someone who used it as a weapon - usually done by someone who isn't actually poly. but we as poly people deserve to take up space, we deserve to be in your media, we deserve respect, we deserve to be represented well.

and if video game devs aren't going to do that for me, you bet your ass i'm gonna do it for myself. no one can take that power for me.

what exists in my game doesn't have to mean shit for yours - it doesn't exist in yours. it is a thing i do for me to make me happy. if anyone gets upset about that they need to go outside.

please don't cast a witches curse on me

i might come back to edit this ... i haven't proof read it..... this was just screaming <3 i'm too tired to read my own words back

#fray.txt #ask #Anonymous #HEY I SAID I WOULD TRY TO KEEP MY HUMOUR UP AND SHIT BUT #I FAILED!!!!!! #I GOT SERIOUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #cannot quell my passions #if there is one thing my ex did for me that was good #it was help me see all sides of poly and the beauty of it #to love so openly and freely and willingly #it is so beautiful #and you bet your sweet ass i'm gonna throw that on my clown with all my might #because they deserve to love so easily #and gale accepts them for who they are #AND YOU BET YOUR ASS I DON'T GIVE A SHIT IF SOMEONE DON'T LIKE THAT !!!!!!!!!!! #LEARN TO LOVE LOVE #AND LEARN TO STAY IN UR LANE!!!!!!!!!!!! #hehe........ i care about this topic <3

[mwahkazu]

INTRODUCING — the tortured poet’s department !

⌕ slow cinnamon summer - a kazuha smau.

⟢ kazuha :: recently graduated from university, kazuha is determined to achieve his lifelong goal of being a published author. however such a task is easier said than done. he may have been a renowned writer within the walls of his dorm, but in the face of brutal reality, those frivolous stories seem to mean nothing. life has taken a lot from this gentle soul. many greetings and goodbyes. therefore he seeks nothing more than to quell his clamored heart through the pen and ink in his hand. and perhaps through someone else as well.

⟢ ayaka :: to those seeking to hold the most extravagant of parties, they turn to the exceptional mind of ayaka for help. first born daughter of the kamisato family, a well-known business clan throughout the city, ayaka has been well versed in both the corporate world and formal gatherings. as a child, she can recall tagging along with her mother to prepare for upcoming events: picking the venue, food entrées, decorations, etc. the turnout each time was always marvelous and thus, ayaka would decide to follow in her mother’s footsteps. her and kazuha would meet thanks to her connection with albedo, both coming from notable families and also from helping him prepare for each of his upcoming art galleries.

⟢ charlotte :: a budding journalist who currently works for the steambird newsletter as an intern. to say charlotte had a passion for journaling would be an understatement. even before she landed a job at the steambird, charlotte used to run the university’s very own student newsletter as head of the department. her connection with kazuha was one of pure coincidence. she had been stumped on figuring out how to garner more attention for the newsletter—to create intriguing stories out of the mundane. that was when kazuha appeared, looking to join the student newsletter group as a way to improve his writing mechanics and offering the most brilliant of ideas to charlotte's dilemma.

⟢ albedo :: an artist of few words who expresses his innermost thoughts and emotions with a stroke of a brush. first born son to the infamous ceo, rhinedottir, albedo naturally grew up having an elite education and a strong love for the fine arts. as such, he would eventually be admitted to one of the world’s top art schools overseas, where he studied acrylic and oil paintings. upon his return, though many had expected him to take up the mantle of ceo, albedo had other plans. nowadays he can be found cooped up in his art studio, painting to his heart’s content. albedo would become acquainted with kazuha at one of his art galleries. at the time, kazuha was wrapping up his final semester at university and seeking inspiration for his final project of creating a story. in the end, the two ended up discussing far more than just fictional prose.

yuomi’s after notes:

kazuha has graduated university along with albedo who attended school overseas. ayaka was homeschooled and never ended up attending university. charlotte is in her last year of university

kazuha and charlotte attend(ed) the same university as reader, chiori, gaming, and nilou

albedo’s backstory was largely inspired by marius von hagen from tears of themis ^^

ayaka and albedo are essentially from rich and wealthy families nepo babies

instagram story header credits: @/cafekitsune

taglist (open): — if you are interested in being added to the taglist for this series, you can either comment on the masterpost or send to my inbox! same goes if you wish to be removed. bold means i cannot tag!

@sl-vega , @santaluna , @ceneid , @kaitfae , @whipped-for-fictionals , @itsactuallylina , @kazumiku , @ponyosupremacy , @calx-bdo , @peaceindreams , @simeonmybabygirlicious , @pwushizz , @1nazum4an , @vellichxrr6782 , @sorcerersseestars , @glxssmemories , @swivy123 , @rattyrattyratty , @sandwicz

#slow cinnamon summer ༉‧ #genshin #genshin impact #genshin smau #genshin x reader #genshin impact kazuha #genshin kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha #kazuha smau #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #kazuha x y/n #kazuha x gn reader #kazuha x gender neutral reader

[killerbananas]

Clouded

Your sensual madness is something Erwin adores.

🔞 mdni | masterlist | 992 wc | afab!reader x Erwin

Warnings: smut; masturbation, PIV, drunk sex (ergo dubcon), creampie, breeding allusions, very Emotional

AN: Repost from my old account. This is some of my most abstract writing so please know it may not be your flavor (I wrote this absolutely smashed and edited only lightly).

Your body feels as though pliant liquid in the sheets that caress your body like a lover's kiss. Your hips undulating against the fabric as it slides along your skin while you writhe. Your breasts heave with a heavy breath that brings your chest high and lets your nipples crest upward. Nothing is stopping how good you feel in this moment and you naturally turn sideways and then to your stomach, finding rhythm on your fingers to pinch swipe press roll and even twist your clit until your essence slides to your fingers beneath you like dripping honey, succulent sticky sweet.

Your entire being is focused on finding release and relief and pleasure and molten fluttering godless rapture in equal measure. It’s impossible to think. Things have been murky since you left your house, your temporary house? Something felt intangibly unstable about your residence but fuck did words escape you. You needed a goddamn earthquake in your cunt or you were going to ungather at an atomic level.

It’s here he finds you, desolate and wanting, wet slick and fucked on your fingers nearly raw. But you need every centimeter of him inside you once you find him there. Once you see him. When you realize there is a fucking solution to the madness ripping you apart and it is Him. He worries for your wild passion, but he starts to understand quickly, helping to quell the sheer force that ensnares your body in ardour. His blonde hair rasps your fingers like frothing tides that bind your bodies in tortuous waves crashing torrential collisions. You do not know where is up but you are full to bursting with Erwin. His cock is inside your sweet walls that hold him close in a lover’s grasp. As if he’s the glue to your universe and the only sanity holding your bones together but with the stitching of steel that his confidence lends in droves as he fucks you alive, whole, full, healthy.

Light halos his hair as whispering temptations to seek a brightness you cannot touch without irreparable, fatal implications, to touch the sun. But he is between your legs and you will have the fill that insatiates your appetite to gargantuan propensities as if to flick your sexual psyche to violins playing a warrior’s tale.

He presses forward into your sopping cunt with a length that burns and the symphony pitches wild in your ears. You cannot control how you choose to receive him. You body caves to the invasion of something so splittingly large you can almost not compete with the stretch it necessitates. But you wouldn’t have it any other way as he completes you with every inch of himself. To know him this way connects you so naturally that your body cannot help but submit to his every whim as he subliminally commands it.

He craves and he will do as he sees fit, like scowering your cunt because he wants to have every inch of you marked. When you’re out about your day your cunt should weep with his come. Every moment without being inside you is torture to his being and he rectifies it with sturdy jams into the softness you willingly present him. That is your cunt being speared by his length for what feels like hours as his cock stirs molasses between your thighs as a concoction you want to choke on he is so incensing. You do not know where his battering bruises end and your soul or being begins. He is so deep you feel as though there is no difference where your breaths synchronize in aphrodisiac whimpers that thrum as a war drum in your chest.

He conquers your body and resides inside you with a parasitical harmony that shreds and glues your psyche with equal dissonance and nirvana. You would accept no less from the god between your plush thighs that promises pleasure of his cock for as long as you’ll have him as you give your very womb over to the virile creature you choose to willingly house at your apex. His balls draw into a tightness that blinds his lungs of breath and mind of thought as he drives deep. He wants to fuse your beings as though a cosmic rip may render life more meaningful if he pushes only a centimeter deeper into your soft cunt. He wants to solve every problem in his body ache to wail and wound to fatality with the leaking essence your body grieves to him in pleasure unbounded.

He doesn’t judge as you pull upward in a tensing arc that replicates the swell of merciful relief lapping your sense of self as you curl into his stomach, a warm retreat for your tender limbs. He is a comfort like the freeing sunlight on a cold winter. He titillates your senses with every movement and gesture as he crests within your womb. A fulfilling radiance shines in your mind as he releases, seed seeking purchase into the rendered Life you proffer with raised hips.

Erwin falls forward into your arms as you are only full of the sense of Him. His contours cover you as he lays down gently with your form on the mattress. Lips wisp ballads of kindnesses professed in blissed cerebral ichor that cloy your lungs with affection so bright you nearly burn at an internal smoulder. You are so overwhelmed that water brims your eyes as traitorous fear leaving you in visible droplets Erwin catches with his ready thumbs that swipe love into your visage. He wishes, swishes a calm into your body that pairs with the release he has consistently tapped into your bud with precision of a lover overcome with care for another. He presses himself deeper and closer with your flutters that continue to milk him like a suckling desire of wholeness that blisters your being in need.

He answers, all of him a balm on your ache.

Taglist: @aotwarriorsimp @alexpro-nwn @animediplomat @antoxsmith @armoredpotato @aviinnit @beffjurky @blondeboyfriend @casuallyck @cherrxs @dearbaji @erwinsbaby @eyesucket @fairypiku @fandomficsobsession @fujoneshi @holographicceo @hinasakuino @interfectio-mortales @kenryug @koulakoukoula2003 @kxkyuu-main @lavenderdaisyhoney   @mybadluckshouldmakemefamous @chaotic-nick @nathalunalune @notgoodforlife @arsonszn @pockcock @poursomesunaonme @scouts-stuff @seychellse @shigarakiapologist @soaringmirror @sparklekitteh @stigandr-the-cat @syrma-sensei @reiners-milkbiddies @tiffanyy-21 @tonaken @torapologist @touyyes @we-are-so-close

#aot #aot x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot smut #aot x reader smut #snk #shingeki no kyoujin #writing with kbee #aot x you #aot x y/n #reader insert #Erwin smith #Erwin smut #Erwin smith smut #Erwin x reader #Erwin x you #erwin smith x reader #Erwin smith x you

[boredsoup]

Strap in folks this is a long one. Anyway I would probably title this to be why Trina’s role in her and Marvin’s relationship though out the ‘In Trousers’ is so tragic to me. Aka I love Trina and need to talk about her because people don’t talk about her, (or really and of the female characters) enough. Mostly inspired by the 1985 version of ‘In Trousers’

We first see a glimpse of Marvin and Trina’s relationship in Trina’s first solo song ‘Love Me For What I Am’ where she yearns for a partner who can love all of her, even her flaws, stating she thinks Marvin might be this partner. However this song also states that in her and Marvin’s first meeting he dominates the conversation. This is where we see she starts to fall into the role of Marvin’s docile partner, that he and the misogyny of the times puts her in. We also see in ‘The Wedding Song’ she sings “will you be the man I’ve dreamt about” I see this as her once again expressing her want for Marvin to be the man that will love her for her trueself. Then literally one song after the wedding song ‘How The Body Falls Apart/I Felt Him Slipping Away’ happens and it is revealed that after twelve years of marriage Trina knows Marvin is cheating on her. In the song Trina seems to now view her and Marvin’s love as something destroyed by lack of lust and the temporary nature of lust. Using the metaphor of a relationship being similar to a body “how the body falls apart first the groin and then the heart” she also states specifically that once Jason was born that is when the lust began to fade. Little bit of a tangent here but, we are also given information by Marvin in ‘Nausea Before the Game’ as well as ‘I Swear I’ll Never Again’ that the lust was never there to begin with. So we can infer that the only reason Marvin and Trina had sex was purely to conceive a child, which explains the death of lust after Jason’s birth. Anyway, then in ‘I’m Breaking Down’ Trina finally sees why Marvin had such a lack of passion for her. Trina in this song seems to be breaking down of course but, also somewhat resigned to the fact that Marvin cheated on her with men. She most likely is unaffected by this fact because it quells the insecurities she sung about in ‘How The Body Falls Apart/I Felt Him Slipping Away’; she was nervous that Marvin is cheating on her due to the fact that she’s not good enough for him. After ‘I’m Breaking Down’ we see ‘Packing Up’ where it is revealed that the marriage has been ended and Marvin is leaving. Finally the last nail in the series of songs about Marvin and Trina’s relationship: ‘Breakfast Over Sugar’, which plays out and will never fail to make me want to sob. Trina in this final song is begging Marvin to stay. Saying That they could just leave the whole situation and forget it ever happened “your parents own a car don’t they? Can’t we drive away?”. Or Marvin could continue to see Whizzer but stay and be with her also “hold me, hold him too but stay.”, stating that she is fine with a loveless marriage just because she simply does not want to be alone without the role that shes grown used to fitting herself in for years. (Marvin has some really interesting lyrics in this song also, but I will leave that for another day this post is already basically an essay). Even after Trina begging Marvin this still his cannot convince him to stay so he leaves and we see the rest of Marvin and Trina’s new style of relationship play out in ‘Falsettos’. Anywho in conclusion justice for my girl Trina she deserves the world and someone to love her like she’s always dreamt (I think act two Mendel mostly achieves this but that’s another post for later)! Man if you made it to the end of this kudos to you this was so long, I’m a huge yapper if you could not tell!

#idk this this is the longest post I’ve written yet #or if it was the one that took me the longest but I’m glad I did finish because #I love Trina sm #I also tried to format this and write it slightly differently so please give me feedback! #my posts :3 #falsettos #in trousers #the marvin trilogy #soup rants :p

[intern-seraph]

yoinking this from my twitter and polishing it a little but anyways have some uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

TWST BOYS + WALKING IN ON YOU SINGING AND DANCING TO A SONG FROM OUR WORLD

- Ace tries to pretend to be above dancing and singing in the kitchen but he doesn't actually put up much of a fight if you grab him to dance together.

- Deuce is embarrassed but... it's a LITTLE cute, and he doesn't really. dance. but like.... I mean....... if you ASK...

- Cater is all-in on this. No clue what song this is, but he’s DEFINITELY pulling out his phone and filming the both of you dancing on Magicam.

- Trey has probably seen his fair share of impromptu singing and dancing from his siblings, but that doesn’t make this little show any less cute! You won’t mind if he takes a little photo, right?

- Is there a rule against this? Riddle is silently going through all 800+ of the Queen’s laws to make sure it’s not Off with your head! He’d hate to interrupt you... but maybe the rules can be bent this one time if necessary.

- Oh, Jack is frozen stiff as he watches you. It’s not like he has a soft spot for you or anything! It’s just... really charming! And if his tail starts wagging when you drag him over to dance with you, that doesn’t mean anything, he swears!

- Aww! This kinda reminds Ruggie of some of the kids back home. You’re just as cute, and he’d love to hear more of these songs you’ve got. Buuut, he‘s not above teasing you for being caught in the act. Maybe he’ll join you sometime, if you give him some snacks in return, of course.

- Leona sees you and immediately goes “Fucking herbivores...” But you’re not letting him go that easily! Grab him under the arms and drag him over to dance with you! “HEY HEY I DON'T DANCE —!” He might make himself dead weight but it’s worth every ridiculous second.

- Floyd also joins in instantly. He looooves dancing, and Shrimpy looks SOOOO cute, how could he not join you?!

- Jade is content to watch you with that unsettling, way-too-toothy grin of his. He might have snapped a few photos. Perhaps got a short video. He’ll never tell. It’s all for his eyes, and his alone.

- The moment Azul catches you, it’s a toss-up. If you’re a decent singer/dancer, he’s probably already cooking up some sort of scheme for special dinner shows at the Mostro Lounge. If you’re... not great... he just watches, cringing sometimes but otherwise thoroughly amused. No, he won’t join you, he’s perfectly happy just watching, thank you very much.

- If you’re taking up space in the kitchen, expect Jamil to shoo you out so he can start prepping food. He’s probably a little annoyed, but he does enjoy dancing. Sooo... he might just join in if you’re not being too much of a bother. Don’t comment on his blush or grin, no matter how cute he looks!

- Kalim absolutely positively cannot resist joining you! You’re having so much fun! He LOVES fun! Do you want to dance more together?! YOU SHOULD HAVE A DANCE PARTY —

- Epel has been to his fair share of informal dances in his hometown, but nothing with people his age. Vil’s compulsory dance lessons don’t count, either. He’s just rooted in place, watching your unfamiliar dancing and singing, trying to commit everything to memory. Pull him in, tell him to just do what feels right. He’ll figure it out.

- Rook is HERE FOR THIS. YOU LOOK PERFECT. FULL MARKS. “Quelle beauté !” How could he resist your undeniable charms?! Your ZEST? YOUR PASSION?!

- Depending on how good you are at singing and/or dancing, Vil is either pleasantly surprised by the impromptu show... or horribly embarrassed to be in the same room as you. You will be getting further lessons either way, like it or not. He sees some potential in you.

- Oh god. Oh fuck. Idia is not prepared for this. Full deer-in-headlights panic mode. This is, like, the exact kinda thing he sees in all his shows and comics and dating sims. But that’s fictional. This is real. Maybe if he doesn’t make eye contact you won’t notice him, and he can pretend this is all fake? How the hell is he supposed to react to this?!

- Ortho is a sweet and wonderful baby and he is zooming in to dance with you the second he sees you because he LOVES it and he’s already plotting ways to get Idia in on the next dance sesh.

- Sebek is torn. He can’t stop staring. Don’t you have anything better to do?! You’re distracting him from his VERY important duties as Malleus’ retainer! Well... no, he’s not working right now. And you’ve done all your classwork... and dancing... is good exercise... he supposes... Fine, human. He’ll indulge you. Just this once!

- Silver is pleasantly surprised. He doesn’t have a very strong reaction either way, although his cheeks might be a little pink, and he’ll let you pull him around in a dance if you want, but if he falls asleep on you... well! You should have expected that!

- Ohhh, Lilia loves this! Humans are so charming, aren’t they? He loves this kind of spontaneity! He’ll dance with you, maybe add a few of his disconcerting metal screams. Be ready to tell him everything about that song when you’re done!

- Malleus is utterly charmed by your little performance. His Child of Man is so cute... it makes his heart race. He’d like to keep you like this, suspended in this moment in time so he can watch you skip and hum and dance over and over again. One day, maybe. For now, he’ll covet this memory like any other treasure in his hoard.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twst hcs #fluff #my writing #seraph speaks #im obsessed w this scenario can u tell #i'm also more familiar with some characters than others. can u tell.

[edenspetals]

This weekend is gonna be a rough weekend can I request some dre fluff? Doesn't matter what it is I want dragon daddy to hold me in his arms

·⊰ pairing. dreandre / reader

·⊰ summary. dreandre finds you in the dead of night within the kitchen and immediately senses that something is wrong

·⊰ notes. I really hope that your weekend gets better!! I also hope that this helps at least a little bit <3

The feeling of a soothing chill engulfs your form as two strong arms now find themselves around you. A pair of icy lips find the crook of your neck and you exhale as the tension, that you had not realised was building up, suddenly released from your muscles. In turn, you lean back into the new presence and delve into the affection spread across your neck. 

“It is far too late for you to be here, dearest.’’ 

His deep voice sounds so soft as it rumbles against your skin. Once more, cold lips press a kiss just below your ear and you cannot help but shiver as you lean further into the countertop. “Forgive me, I just have a lot on my mind. I thought maybe a snack would help.’’ 

All you receive is a hum before large hands turn you around and slide down to the backs of your thighs. Effortlessly, he lifts you up and sets you upon the counter after the tip of his tail swipes away whatever utensils you had been using. On instinct, you bring your hands to lay upon his collarbone, yet avoid his gaze altogether. “I hope I haven't worried you. I assumed you’d be busy with the scrolls.’’ 

Fingers, strong yet delicate in touch, take your chin between his thumb and index before he raises your head so that your eyes meet amber slits. “Is that the truth?” Despite his lowered voice, it still held some semblance of sternness which prompts you to clear your throat. 

It was always so nerve-wracking to lie to a literal deity. 

“Of course, Dre.’’ In an attempt to steer him away from any suspicion, you use your little nickname for him. However, it appears that your luck ran out as you witness slitted pupils constrict. 

“Let me reiterate,’’ he leans in, some of his white hair tickling at your skin. “Do you think that you can lie to me?”

There was no helping it, not when he had you trapped in a corner. So with a hushed sigh, you bring your arms to hook around his neck and bury your head into his white robes. “I just don’t want to bother you, is all.’’ You’re well aware of how muffled your voice is, but you know that he can hear you — as emphasised by the gentle hold that you soon feel at the back of your head. 

“You have been really busy lately and I — I just. . . Miss you. That’s all.’’ 

Silence. 

For a moment you think you’ve messed up.

He’s a divine being, of course he has duties. How can you be so —

“Look at me.’’ 

It takes all your courage but you eventually draw your head away from his robes, albeit hesitantly, and look up at him as asked. The hand that was at the back of your head trails down, fingers gently taking your face in their hold before he leans in and presses the softest of kisses to your lips. Enough to relax your nerves and quell any doubt within the pit of your stomach. 

He pulls you up once more, slipping both arms down to now support your thighs and legs around him as he holds you in such a way that leaves you a little raised above him. Your arms move back so that you can cup his jaw with both hands — dishing back the passion that he poured into the kiss. 

He parts, slightly, so that his lips still brush against yours. “You needn’t worry yourself with such falsehood,’’ the dragon mutters, pecking your lips before speaking again. “I can always find time in my day for you, dearest.’’ 

Any sliver of doubt melts away and you nod in the slightest. It is then that the arms around you manoeuvre in such a way to position you so that your legs are now draped over one of his arms and your back rests against his other. He steps away from the kitchen, carrying you bridal style through the jade-decorate halls. 

“I believe that some rest is in order. Allow me to take care of you for the night.’’ As he speaks, you lay your head upon his chest and curl into his comforting coldness. In return, he bundles you closer and does not break the contact even when you reach his chambers. Instead, he places you on the bed and slips beside you so that an arm hooks around your middle and the tip of his tail drapes over your thighs.

“Will you rely on me when your heart is troubled, dearest?” He questions as he brings his chin to rest atop your head. You cannot find words, so you only hum and take his robes between your fingers as you shut your eyes. 

“Then I assure you that I will care for you with all of mine.’’ Dreandre mutters, dipping his head to press a kiss to the top of your hair before returning back to the cuddling position. 

·⊰ masterlist.

·⊰ buy me a coffee?

·⊰ taglist form. @kiatheinsomniac @rurifangirl @mikkies @squacthy77

#— ꒰🥀꒱ 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦 ៸៸ dreandre ଓ.° #monster x reader #terato #terato x reader #dragon x reader #dragon boyfriend #monster boyfriend #monster boyfriend x reader #dragon oc #monster oc #oc x reader #oneshot #writing

[ffion451]

Chapter Twenty: Then There Was You | The Centre Cannot Hold: KTH (m)

Chapter characters/pairings: Taehyung x f!reader | AU/Genre: non idol au, angst, smut (see warnings below) see series m.post for fic summary etc.

Rating/Chapter warnings: ⚠️🔞 M - Adults only! 🔞⚠️ SMUT (m/f unprotected sex, m>f oral sex), threat, intoxication, reader is a mild dom, some light bondage (nothing too spicy) yandere and dark themes

Word count: 9.1K

<<< Chapter Nineteen

The door shuts just in time: both men pause mid-motion, shocked into stillness, statues in their surprise. Namjoon grips the door handle tightly as it rattles with another dull thump then a shattering sound.

“So that’s both the lamp and the water I left beside his bed,” Namjoon sighs.

“You used glass?” Jihan quizzes, an eyebrow raised.

“Hey,” Namjoon complains as the cacophony of bangs continues from Taehyung’s room, “I didn’t see this coming… Have they broken up or something? The last three weeks he’s been a nightmare, staggering in blind drunk nearly every night…”

Jihan shrugs, “I don’t know,” he admits, “He won’t say anything and she won’t answer my calls. When I text her she claims she has shitty reception on whatever work trip she’s on. She said they’re fine though.”

“Well he can’t carry on like this,” Namjoon states, “Who would know what’s going on?”

Jihan bites his lip thinking carefully before he answers, “Park Jimin… or maybe Woo Jiho.”

The room beyond them falls silent. 

“He’ll have passed out now,” Jihan says softly and Namjoon releases his grip on the door.

Namjoon fixes Jihan with a focused gaze, “Try them both - both Jimin and Jiho. This shit needs to be dealt with sooner rather than later.”

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Taehyung has not passed out. Instead, he lies on his bed, naked and listening. 

As his friends creep away, he resolves to find other ways to cope: the drinking has to stop. That’s the end of the night’s clarity for Taehyung. He stares at the flat blackness of the ceiling until he finds depth there and then the void swallows him whole, as it always does, as it always has, even when he was only a small child. It’s always been there. He both hates and trusts it. In the chaos of his mind, it’s the only thing that brings relief, and sometimes Taehyung wants nothing more than to silence his thoughts.

Taehyung’s mind has sometimes been a dark place, sometimes a bright one, but always, no matter his mood, it races, always working, working, working, filled with thought and raw feeling. There was obsession; there was lust, a mad passionate consuming desire; there was need; there was a hole that needed filling; there was satisfaction. There were all these things and more and nothing was ever enough for him. But then there was you and his world was reshaped, reformed, rebuilt.

His existence didn’t explode, the sphere of his days did not tilt on its axis because you came into his life. Instead, you crept up on him like frost at the turning of the seasons. In feather-soft flurries you flittered through his days, he barely noticed until those insatiable fires in him were quelled beneath the pure white blanket you spread beneath his feet. Taehyung had charged through life before you, eyes fixed ahead; now he treads softly in the world you have made anew for him. 

He still burns intensely, but it is a different hue: the scarlet inferno, the fiery, empty chasm of his heart is no more. Instead, a blue flame flickers and dances, small and serene, yet it’s looks deceive, it is known that the azure heart of the flame is the most intense. Taehyung knows that it is a lie that winter is cold and that blue is the colour of unhappiness: the final season of the year has always been his favourite. You are his winter, his fresh snow, his clear day, his warm, blue flame.

Once there was chaos, emptiness and pain but then there was you and then there was wholeness; peace, joy and love.

Now, without you, there’s nothing, and chaos has come again.

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“You’re not serious?” scoffs Ellie, throwing a disbelieving look at Jihan beside her, “Come off it Jiho - you had a whole campaign against Taehyung and now you say you don’t know anything?”

Jiho sighs, “I really don’t know anything, I was told something about Taehyung, I guessed what it might mean and I was wrong or whatever… that’s it.”

Jihan’s eyes narrow, “Ah, but how did you find out you were wrong?”

Jiho pauses before he mentions your name, punctuated with a heavy sigh, “…Yeah, she told me. She told me she knew everything and whatever I thought was wrong. She said she had a big trip and that she didn’t want me bothering Taehyung while she was gone.”

“So after the fight in the club, you’re just going to leave it?” Ellie says, with more disbelief.

“I’m not an asshole,” Jiho argues, nostrils flaring, “All I wanted was to look out for a friend, she knows the truth now, whatever that might be and that’s fine. As long as she’s safe and happy that’s all I care about. I trust her to do the right thing. I mean, I don’t like Kim Taehyung, but whatever man, she loves him so…”

Ellie moves to speak, but Jihan shoots her a look, “That’s cool,” he says gently, “When she gets back hopefully everything will be cool.”

As they leave, Ellie quizzes him about why he quietened her down, “Whatever is going on, Jiho doesn’t know about it and given his suspicions about Tae, I say we keep it that way,” Jihan explains.

Ellie nods grimly as they head towards your office to seek Park Jimin, who is avoiding everyone’s calls.

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Jimin is a creature of habit and so when he leaves work at the end of the day to head to his gym, he finds Jihan waiting for him in the changing rooms.

“You were busy when Ellie and I came to the office,” Jihan explains smoothly, “So I thought I’d try you here.”

“So desperate to see me,” Jimin laughs, his bravado not fully convincing, “I am popular nowadays.”

Jihan hums thoughtfully before he outlines the dilemma: You’ve disappeared on a “work trip” nobody knows anything about and in your now three-week absence, Taehyung is having a complete meltdown and won’t speak to anyone, withdrawing completely within himself.

“So, do you know what’s going on?” Jihan presses.

With a deep breath, Jimin turns from stowing his things in a locker and begins talking.

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“Well?” Ellie asks impatiently when Jihan joins her outside the gym, “Did he talk?”

“He explained about why the trip was so sudden and how it’s not suspicious, apparently,” Jihan recounts, “Then he claimed to know absolutely nothing about anything else.”

“Claimed?” asks Ellie, cocking an eyebrow.

Jihan laughs dryly, “Exactly. I don’t believe a word about this work trip and I think that slippery little fucker knows everything, but he’s not telling.”

Within the gym, Jimin sits on the changing room bench, drinking water and breathing heavily after his workout. He’s pretty certain Jihan didn’t believe a word he said but what can he do? After this, does it even matter? Whatever bonds he was reforging with Taehyung are broken now and his friendship with you lies in tatters.

He sighs as he remembers the last words you spoke to him before you left for your trip, “Just tell anyone who asks that it’s for work and don’t tell anyone about Taehyung. Make sure they keep their mouths shut.” He foolishly asked you if you could forgive him for not telling you about Yideum and you just sighed, turning your back on him and walking away.

He pinches the bridge of his nose as he evaluates the whole mess. Is that what you’ve done with Taehyung? Have you walked away? If so, why are you still protecting him? Jimin is conflicted; the sensible part of him tells him to steer clear of the whole mess, but it’s another part of him that wins out, the same part that always does: compassion. He rises to his aching feet and heads to the showers, resolving that as soon as he’s washed and dressed that he’ll head to Taehyung to see what can be done.

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With the little Jimin gave you to go on, it’s taken you weeks to get to this place and this moment. You could laugh at the irony of having travelled miles knocking on doors, only to find yourself preparing to meet your quarry only one subway station from your own house. In the middle of the busy park, your leg bounces incessantly as nervous tension pulses through you.

You try to distract yourself with your phone, replying to your friends’ messages with the same trite meaningless phrases insisting that you’re fine, that their concerns are misplaced, that you are just really busy with work and of course the final lie, that you and Taehyung are fine and that he’s just going through something else that’s private and unrelated.

You feel particularly guilty abut spouting that last lie to Ellie, but right now, you feel that there’s no other choice. The truth is too burdensome, and you must shoulder it alone. So preoccupied are you by your phone and thoughts, that you don’t register the person who sits beside you until they say your name in a questioning tone.

You turn to look at the woman beside you, oddly relieved that, pretty as she is, she looks absolutely nothing like you. You nod, “Baek Yideum?”

She smiles, but it’s forced and too tight, “That’s me.”

“Thanks for agreeing to meet me and coming all this way,” you say, “I really do need to talk to you about what happened with Kim Taehyung: I have questions only you can answer and I think some answers you might need too,” you draw breath at the end, your rehearsed speech falling out of you in an anxious tumbling of words.

Yideum’s smile becomes tighter, “It was no effort. No offence, but I don’t want this conversation on my own doorstep,” she regards you, her eyes colder than you’d expected, “I don’t need any answers. I know exactly what you’re going to say.”

You stare at her, open mouthed, “How?”

“You’re going to tell me that he drugged me,” she sighs, with an airy, dismissive flutter of her hand and you note the wedding ring there, “I know.”

You can only stare, mouth agape for long moments before you find your voice, “How do you know?”

She smiles tiredly, “Because he didn’t do it very well.”

Over the course of the next few hours she goes into torturous detail about Taehyung and his childhood. His controlling father, the way he and his mother were medicated to deal with every issue from slight stress to helping them sleep at night: a chemical solution for every problem. She tells you how each time Taehyung would drug her that she’d be sleepy but not actually comatose, drifting between sleep and wakefulness. She is insistent that while she slept he did nothing but lay beside her, a shy hand occasionally resting on her hip, telling her how special she was to him and divulging all his turbulent thoughts and feelings about his complicated home life and difficult relationship with his parents, things he could never tell anyone, before he’d eventually fall asleep. It never bothered her, she thought it was sweet and a little sad. Taehyung was always a lonely boy, a sadness sitting on him that broke her heart. She admits it was only with time and experience that she realised he’d turned to chemical support to lure her into tiredness and by then it was only a distant memory.

“So what is it you want from me?” she asks, “Because I won’t admit this to another person and I certainly won’t report him.”

“Even if he’s done it to someone else?” You probe.

She stares into your eyes, evaluating you, “To you?” she asks, “Harmfully?”

“To me,” you say, lifting your chin defiantly, “Isn’t any drugging harmful?”

She clicks her tongue, appraising you as though you are naive, “Not if there’s no harm intended and not if that person is troubled and was raised that way. He was brought up believing that it was a solution - a fucked up one I warrant, but a solution nonetheless.”

You say nothing, your mind spinning as she continues to search your face, processing the emotions that cross it, “Don’t report him,” she asks, “It would be too cruel. If you love him, you know that’s not the right solution.”

“Who says I love him?” You ask, unsure of the answer yourself.

“If you didn’t you’d have gone to the police and would have let them find me,” she asserts astutely, “Anyway, it’s written all over your face. You’re here because you want a reason not to stop.”

“I can’t trust him,” you say without thinking, “I can’t keep loving him.”

She rolls her eyes at you, “You think you have a choice? Don’t be stupid.”

You only frown in response; you anxiously ran through this conversation from every angle you could think of before you arrived here today and not once did you think it would play out this way.

She takes a breath, standing up nod smoothing out the creases and wrinkles in her skirt, “If you go to the police I will deny everything. Does Taehyung know you’re here? I’m guessing he doesn’t.”

You shake your head, feeling small and diminished.

“He told you what happened, yes?” she asks, and you simply nod, “So, he’s been honest with you, and you sneak off without telling him. Maybe it’s him that can’t trust you.”

You look at her in betrayal, but it’s too late, she’s already walking away. For the first time, you now understand what it feels like for someone to turn their back on you and leave.

“Talk to him,” she calls back, without looking at you, “He doesn’t love easily and so if he loves you you’re very lucky indeed.”

Trembling with feelings you’re not yet able to name, you stand up and stride in the other direction, focusing only on following your feet while your brain and body processes the emotions flooding through you. You can never outrun your own mind though, and finally, when the elevator doors close behind you, your panic closes in on you, smothering you in its loveless embrace.

Hours later, past the white hot anxiety that had burned through you, your emotions settle into one coherent feeling: outrage. You are lucky, she said… Lucky? How can you be lucky to be in love with a man who sedated you into spending time with him? You pace your hotel room disgusted at the insinuation. You know you should just go home, but you can’t face it yet.

Fuck this, you think, the walls starting to close in, I need a drink. Tidying yourself up and trying to make yourself feel pretty, you head to the nearest bar.

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“You’re so fucking hot,” the words confuse you - you’re not hot, he is: his breath warm and sticky against your neck where he leans in. You blink slowly, your eyes heavy and swallow, your tongue feeling too thick in your mouth. You realise, with painful clarity like a slap across the face, how drunk you’ve gotten and wonder when one drink at this nameless dive bar became eight, or was it more?

Who is this letch? This grotesque, sweaty man pawing at you? His hand is on your shoulder, the other gripping the back of your barstool, you can feel his tense knuckles grazing your back, the tendons like wires. With the same immediacy as understanding how drunk you are, you now understand you’re not very safe. This man, this determined man, has something about him that puts you on edge: his grip is too tight, his smile too wide, his actions too deliberate. You castigate yourself for flirting back with him, at the time it had felt like a harmless action to take your mind off Taehyung, Yideum and the whole mess, not the lead up to whatever this man is now expecting.

Deliberately, as he pulls back, you giggle, covering your mouth and deliberately smudging your lipstick. You rarely wear it, you’re grateful you did tonight. Laughing, you examine your stained fingers and touch your chin where the stain ends, “I have to clean myself up,” you say lightly, grabbing your bag.

“Don’t be too long,” he states, his voice low and much more a warning than the seductive tone he may be aiming for and it chills your blood. He squeezes your shoulder, letting his hand fall away, deliberately grazing your breast: you force yourself not to react as he winks at you, “I’ll guard your drink.”

It takes all the effort you have not to run to the toilets. When you get there, you hole yourself up in the farthest cubicle and take out your phone.

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Taehyung wakes from his doze instantly, the song emitting from his phone instantly recognisable. He squints in the darkness for the glowing rectangle of light and scrambles to pick up, speaking without thought, “Baby?”

“Taehyung, I’ve done something stupid,” you say shakily, your voice trembling, then you tell him about the drinking and the bar and how afraid you are.

Taehyung wants to tell you to send him your location and he’ll be there, but no, he thinks… Will you even want that? You probably want Minho or Jihoon and can’t get hold of them. Maybe Namjoon is home? So instead he says, “Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

Your next words kindle the dying embers of hope in his heart, “I’ll send you my location, would you please come get me?”

Taehyung smiles in joy and relief, already on his feet and heading to the door, “Leave the toilets,” he commands, “You’re not safe there, he might come looking. Head to the kitchens, or the back room, somewhere with staff, somewhere safe, and tell them I’m coming.”

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It doesn’t take Taehyung long to get there, and when he enters the bar, he spots the sleaze that had been hitting on you immediately. He measures the man up and wonders precisely how drunk you are, you are leagues above this toad. Following the nod from the bartender and your garbled text messages, he knows you’re in the kitchens and so heads immediately there, reading your directions.

He pushes on the swing door with more force than he intended, meaning you and the waitress you’ve been chatting to both look up. His eyes, wide with concern, meet yours hazy, tear-filled ones. Before he can blink, you’re off your feet and barrelling into his arms. He holds you tightly, your face pressed into his chest and kisses the top of your head, “You’re here,” you mumble, muffled by his hoodie pressed into your mouth.

“I’m here,” he confirms, “It’s ok.”

You just cry softly into him in response, “Shall I take you home?” he asks softly.

“Can’t face it,” you answer honestly, fishing your hotel key card out of your back pocket, “Please take me to my hotel.”

Taehyung does. He leads you out of the bar by the back door, thanking the waitress and drives you to the hotel. When he gets you there he hesitates until you ask him to take you to your room and again at the threshold. You knot your hands in his hoodie, “Please, please stay with me.”

“You’re safe here, baby,” Taehyung makes himself say, “I’m not sure I should.”

You look at him, dazed, confused but also vulnerable and you speak the truth as you feel it in this moment, “It’s so fucking stupid of me but I feel safe with you.”

He beams at you, the second clause deafening him to the first, “Then I’ll stay - whatever you want.”

You change in the bathroom as he strips to his boxers and a tee, obviously there’s only one bed and he smiles wryly at the trope before his heart sinks, of course there’ll be no romantic night for him, he feels stupid even hoping for it. With a heavy tread and heart, he trudges to the small sofa with the thin decorative blanket that lay atop the duvet bed, folding himself up, pretzel-like.

Taehyung doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable, so he faces the back of the sofa, away from you and the bed. He even pretends to be asleep when you emerge from the bathroom. You’re drunk still, your steps flat-footed as you try to move quietly to the bed; at the last moment, you divert and he can feel you standing over him, his heart begins to race. He can’t control the shudder as you run your index finger, your nail scratching him lightly, down his exposed spine.

“Taehyung,” you whisper softly, “Come to bed.”

He doesn’t move, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’re drunk, in the morning you might regret waking up beside me.”

He hears you huff and then movement as you crouch beside him. This time it’s his gasp that he can’t contain as your soft lips trace the same line as your finger did, “Please,” you mumble into his skin before you pull back, he misses you immediately and it’s an ordeal for him not to flip over and pull you into his arms, “I know we’re not in a good place and I have a lot of thinking to do, but can’t we be friends for a moment?” you sound so forlorn that his heart aches with yours.

“I’m always your friend,” he promises, turning over to find your face closer than he expected. Your wide, teary eyes met his own gleaming ones and then your mouth is on his. He reacts instinctively, wrapping his arms about you and half-guides, half-drags you on top of him as your kisses deepen. Your tongue creeps into his mouth, shyly at first, then more demanding. He knows it’s a bad idea, but he has missed you and can’t hold himself back or bring himself to reject you when you two are so vulnerable.

His stiffening cock seems to act as an alarm bell to you, as you finally break away from him, seemingly shocked with yourself, “Taehyung, I- ” you falter.

“It’s not a good idea, I know,” he interrupts, saving you from your embarrassment, “Let’s just sleep, yeah?”

Helping you to your feet and surreptitiously adjusting his underwear, he follows you to bed. He lies on his back, arm outstretched and you immediately snuggle into the crook of his arm, one arm tucked between your bodies, the other on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his tee. Gingerly and with more caution than he’s ever used with you, he places his hand on your shoulder and interweaves the fingers of his other with your hand that rests on his chest, relief flooding through him when you hum happily and burrow into him.

He won’t sleep easily in this position, but you will, and that’s all that matters to him. He kisses the top of your head as your breath becomes more shallow and deep; he’s glad you’re relaxing but he won’t. Despite your call and your kisses, Taehyung feels more certain than he did before that this may be the last time he gets to hold you: he won’t waste those precious moments sleeping.

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Only a few hours later, you awaken, thirsty and head pounding. Taehyung releases your fingers as you pull away, immediately asking if you’re ok.

“’m fine,” you mumble tiredly, heaving yourself up and dragging your body out of bed to retrieve water and painkillers, “Hangover is hitting,” you explain as he mumbles sympathy.

Bathroom visited, pills taken and a hefty glug of water later, you return to bed, padding more gracefully than you did hours earlier, “Have you even slept?” you ask as he yawns widely, he just shakes his head.

“Silly boy,” you reprimand fondly, laying on your side, back to him, knowing how he likes to sleep, “Spoon me,” you demand.

You can feel his hesitance but he complies, and you lay still until his breathing evens out and his pouted lips huff little, soft breaths against your neck. More sober now, your mind races on what to do next and you force yourself to acknowledge that whatever else may be true, that Taehyung may be some kind of predator, that he abused your trust, that he’s troubled, that he’s lied… that you are nonetheless happiest in his arms.

Knowing that all the realities will have to be reconciled into one, new truth, you put them to one side, wisely or not, choosing to enjoy the moment in his arms.

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When he wakes up in the morning, you’re already showered and are bedecked in a fluffy hotel robe. You perch at the end of the bed, seemingly waiting for something.

As he rubs his eyes sleepily, you tell him breakfast is on the way and direct him to the shower. When he returns, clean and a little more alive, the food has already arrived and you sit with him on the tiny sofa, made even smaller by your fuzzy robes, eating croissants and fruit in a not-altogether-comfortable silence.

“I’m sorry that you had to come get me last night -” you begin.

“I’m glad you called,” he interrupts earnestly, choking a little as he swallows his food too quickly in his desire to reassure you.

Your instincts clearly get the better of you as you rush to him, concerned, water pushed into his hand before you rub his back gently. After a long drink and several shuddering breaths, he recovers himself. In an action-replay of the night before, you’re crouched beside him, looking at him in concern.

“I’m ok,” he smiles, his eyes watery, “Don’t worry.”

“I always worry about you,” you reply softly and you both take a moment to ponder all that those words could mean, looking into each other’s eyes in a mixture of hope, love and despair.

“I’m sorry,” he says weakly, looking away, feeling stupid the second that the words are out of his mouth; it’s by far too little.

His attention is drawn back to you by your small huff, unable to tell if it’s scoffing, exasperated or something else and yet again his eyes fill. You thumb his tears away, though his contented hum strangles in his raw throat as you move upwards, undoing his robe, and laying him bare as you, still wrapped tightly in yours, straddle his lap.

Shocked, Taehyung freezes, half-whispering, half-moaning your name, “Is this a good idea?”

You smile and he doesn’t recognise it at all; he’s never seen you so seductive, “No, it isn’t,” you purr and his cock twitches, “But I want it anyway.”

“Want what?” He teases, trying to sound innocent, an endeavour made even more difficult as you move closer and your bare thighs glide against his.

“You,” you say simply, ducking down to kiss his neck while his hands fist into your robe, his cock throbbing and twitching between you. Your kisses quickly become more fierce as you nip and suck the sensitive skin beneath his ear; he shudders pleasurably and soon his cock, hard and weeping, skims against you. It takes all his self control not to lift you, throw you on the bed and to sink inside you, but he knows you need this. You need to use him: he’ll let you.

Moments later, you pull back and smile, clambering off him. He watches as you tidy away the breakfast dishes, pushing the cart into the hall before you hang the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door. As the door closes, you call to him without looking, “Lie on the bed please, robe off.”

He moves swiftly, shrugging off the robe and stretching out on the bed, slightly nervous and suddenly shy of his nudity. His trepidation grows when reach for his discarded robe, loosing the fluffy belt from it’s loops and approaching him. His breath trembles as you straddle him, raising and eyebrow with outstretched hands. He can do nothing but comply, offering you his shaking hands as you gently, but tightly, bind them and affix them to the headboard.

“No touching,” you whisper in his ear, biting on his ear lobe as you slide back down his body, taking a seat on his thighs, “Are you ok with this?” you ask, the real you, beneath the sexy bravado, peeking through.

He smiles reassuringly, “You can do whatever you want to me,” he promises, “I love you, I’m yours.”

Your eyes fill and he wonders if the moment is passing and you’re changing your mind. He knows what this is, it’s not really sex, though he’ll give you everything he’s got… No, when he looks at you he knows this is goodbye. 

“It’s ok,” he almost whispers. You smile back, bright and real, and he knows he’s reassured you as you regain your confidence.

You lean over him and kiss his cheek, so gently and lightly he might have dreamed it; he smiles because, whatever else is troubling you, whatever else you plan to do, you still feel tenderness towards him and that’s all his broken heart could hope for. Taehyung knows he’s lost you, all he can hope for now is some sweetness in the bitterness of parting from you.

Your featherlight kisses and caresses continue all over his body, your fingers tracing circles on his clavicle, chest, hipbones and stomach. After a while, he realises you’re deliberately teasing him as he gets more turned on; you seem to be deliberately avoiding any area that might excite him more.

“Please,” he pleads desperately; you only smile softly in response. You continue your torture now, but allow your trailing fingers to skim his nipples, his cock, his balls and he wonders if this is somehow worse, to be touched where he needs it most but so lightly and without purpose. It drives him mad, and you shift more of your weight onto his thighs from your knees to keep him in place as he gently bucks his hips up towards you, aching for your touch.

“Stop it,” you warn, your voice low, “This is my party…”

He gulps and nods compliantly. His cock aches and everything you do makes his cock impossibly harder, his balls tightening. He focuses his attention on thinking how hard he’s going to fuck you when you finally cede control to him. 

He sucks in a deep breath as you change strategy: now you only concentrate on his sensitive areas, sucking and nibbling at his earlobe as you tease his nipples, your fingers firmer and rougher with him than before. He realises now as he gasps, that before you were silent, but no you moan into him as you lavish attention on him. After what feel an eternity of more torture, you slide down his body and begin to roll his balls, tugging gently as you kiss his soft, flat stomach that trembles beneath the pillowy touch of your lips.

You seem to take pity on him when his moans turn to whines, and finally untie your robe, discarding it. His eyes drink in your naked body, his gaze so fixed on you that it’s a surprise when you finally grasp his cock, rubbing his throbbing head, beaded with pre-cum, along your slit before you lower yourself enough for just the tip to enter you. 

“Fuck…” Taehyung moans, fighting with everything he has not to jerk his hips and fill you up. Then you raise off him, and he stutters in agony, “No, no, please, don’t stop…”

Ever generous, ever the kind, beautiful love of his life, you repeat the motion, again and again giving him all the joy of entering you and all the agony of you pulling away. He loves it and hates it but cannot deny that he’s never been harder in his life.

He watches, eyes glued on where you and he join as you slowly sink further on to him, sinking an inch and rising, then sinking a little more… It’s still torturous but the bliss of being inside you overrides it; your tight warm walls barely yield to him and like this he gets to stretch you out again and again, the warmth of you even more delicious from the chill of the room. He can’t imagine fucking anyone who isn’t you… A sob rises in his chest at the thought but is halted when you sink onto him completely, his cock filling you his tight balls pressed against your ass. 

“Please don’t move,” he begs when your hands splay across his chest, “I’ll come...”

“Take your time,” you smile, rubbing his hips and he hisses through his teeth and tries not to blow his load - you’re not even fucking clenching, he thinks, and still he’s struggling to hold on, God he loves you and and your perfect cunt.

Several deep breaths later, he controls himself, “I’m good…” he assures, “Take me.”

You grin and begin to ride him at a slow steady pace, nothing special, just gentle movements up and down on his cock, occasionally teasing him by only tae the first few inches, but then riding it to the base where you pause: each time has him biting his lip as he tries not to blow his load.

He grins when, after at least ten minutes of riding him, you start to lose control yourself, fucking him harder, and stopping him from coming by letting him almost slide out of you before you slam back down. “I’m so close,” he admits, as much as he wants to come, he wants you to have your fun. 

In response, you sink fully onto him, “Hold it,” you demand, before you stop riding him and grind against him, back and forth and with gentle circular motions in between. It’s the best he’s ever felt.

“Need to come,” he whines, “Please, let me…”

“Come for me,” you allow, not stopping your grind. He explodes within you as you clench around his cock, the thickest ropes of cum he’s ever released spurting inside you. The bliss and relief is earth-shattering, but strangely it doesn’t stop… usually it’s a few seconds of pure euphoria, but as you grind against him, those moments seem to spread out, his orgasm pulled along with the undulation of your hips.

He groans your name, louder and more needily than ever before, his hips stuttering as sweat beads his brow and upper lip as his orgasm itself becomes too much to handle. He can’t even speak, you’ve fucked him stupid.

You’re gentle though, you take in his pained expression, “Had enough?” you ask gently, and he nods meekly as you gently slide off him, careful not to hurt his incredibly sensitive softening cock, rolling off the bed and departing to the bathroom with your robe to clean yourself up while he swallows deep mouthfuls of air.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Long minutes later, feeling clean again after the load Taehyung pumped into you, you cool your flushed face and smile at yourself, feeling proud of yourself for fucking him senseless. It’s then that you’re pulled from your thoughts by a gentle tap at the bathroom door, instinctively pulling your robe tighter around you, you call, “Yes?”

“Can I come in?” Taehyung asks meekly, and you can’t help but smile, wondering how long it took him to free himself from your bindings.

“Go ahead,” you say, washing your hands as a distraction from your racing heart. He enters the room and stands behind you, moving your hair and the neck of the robe so he can kiss your neck gently, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

“That was something else,” he blushes as you colour in response, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you laugh, both of you strangely uncomfortable.

Your eyes meet again, “I want to make you come,” Taehyung states plainly as you gape a little in shock, “May I?”

You make a strange gurgling noise that makes him cock an eyebrow at you, and so you have to mutely nod, he grins then his grip on your waist turning you to face him before lifting you onto the counter and sinking to his knees.

He looks up at you with wide eyes before kissing your ankle, trailing soft kisses all the way up your leg to the top of your thighs, making you shudder and tremble for him. When he reaches the very top, he suddenly bites down harshly, causing you to cry out, and he sucks a massive hickie into the soft flesh, your core throbs, desire running through your body and wetness seeping through your folds. Smirking against your skin, he places a delicate kiss before he pulls you forward, his nose grazing your throbbing clit.

With broad strokes of his flattened tongue, he licks all around your folds, working his way inwards, deliberately teasing you as you did him. He licks all round, until he reaches our perineum and presses his tongue against you firstly, causing you to moan, surprising you when his firm, stretched tongue pushes into your vagina as he tongue fucks you. 

You cry out his name as you grip the edge of the counter, begging for mercy. He complies, licking a broad stripe up your vagina and circling your neglected clit with his tongue. His cock is hard again and he’s too horny to torture you for long so soon he sucks your clit into his mouth, first flicking hip tongue rapidly and then nibbling. Then he begins to suck harshly as he penetrates you with two fingers. He curls his long digits as he fucks you, aiming for that sweet, spongy spot that makes you scream, pounding into you as you cry out, his lips almost numb from the onslaught he’s subjecting you too.

You chant his name in a mantra as your orgasm consumes you, bucking against his face then withdrawing in sensitivity as you come down from your high. Taehyung simply grins up at your dazed, blissed-out expression, licking his lips lasciviously. though, even in your heady state, you can see his hard cock through the folds of his gown.

You know time is running out and in your desperation you seek to turn moments into minutes and minutes into hours so you can hold on to him that little bit longer.

“Taehyung,” you say softly, “I need you inside me.”

He’s swiftly on his feet, undoing and shrugging off his robe before he unties yours. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he grips the underside of your thighs, carrying your naked body back to the bed.

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Your arms can barely keep a grip of his shoulders as you seek to anchor yourself, getting lost in Taehyung and the pleasure of him pounding into you.

You’re past been being able to speak: you can only pant and moan and mewl variations of his name as he groans into you, similarly fuck-drunk and incoherent in his lust. He’s everywhere: his mouth sucking at your throat, one hand kneading your breast roughly, the other pressing your thigh into your body as his cock grazes your cervix, his strokes brutal and deep. 

You cling to him, and realise you’re not anchoring yourself, you’re only being borne further from shore: you want to be lost in Taehyung, you want to be joined with him like this, always.

Again, he takes you over the edge and your spasming walls choke his cock, causing him to burble a strangled moan as he fucks you all the harder for it, your whole body shaking as he thrusts into you with all the he force he can muster.

You hands roam the delicate curves of his back, feeling the powerful muscles flexing there before your hand knots in his hair, bucking your hips up into him as best you can, clenching your walls around him as you come down from your high.

“Coming,” he finally grunts in warning.

“Fill me,” you beg. He does, thrusting deep, your bodies seemingly glued together, tight balls pressed to your ass as his hot cum spills into you. He moans, deep, low and throaty as you scream for him, coming again, your climax tearing through you.

Finally, spent and exhausted, you relax your tight hold on each other, Taehyung slipping out of you with a wince, and pulling you into his sweaty embrace as he you both pant weakly. He smooths your sweaty hair from your face, kissing your forehead as you both regain your senses.

Minutes later you shower together in tired, sated silence before you trudge to the comfort of the bed, climbing beneath the cum-stained duvet to fall heavily into each other’s arms.

You watch him as he sleeps. He may be done in, but his sleep is not entirely peaceful, his brow knotted and mouth twisting as he dreams uncomfortably.

You kiss his eyelids and stroke his soft locks, whispering soothing words of comfort in the hope it will reach his subconscious mind. Is this what he did with you? You wonder, and for the first time the thought doesn’t sicken you as you begin to try to understand how you really feel about him.

Your mind has sometimes been a troubled place, sometimes a light one, but always, no matter your mood, it races, always working, working, working, filled with thought and raw feeling: there was fear; there was panic; there was a loud critical voice always berating you and making you second guess yourself; there was a yearning for love but a terror of what it might mean; there was loneliness. There were all these things but there was also friendship, laughter, kindness and patience but nothing was ever enough to calm the furious beating of your terrified rabbit heart. But then there was him and your world was reshaped, reformed, rebuilt.

Your existence didn’t explode, the sphere of your days did not tilt on its axis because he came into your life. Instead, with wily tenacity, he crept up on you like the turning of the seasons. The burning heart of Taehyung surely and determinedly melted the icy box in which you contained your heart. It trembled within, like a little bird, but he could see its need through those glass-like walls and so he warmed his way in. Before Taehyung, you experienced life at a distance, keeping everything, even joy, at arm’s length; now your fragile heart, exposed in all its vulnerability, has learnt what it is to be consumed again.

You still know fear, anxiety and panic; those things will never, can never, leave you, but since Taehyung they have changed, their grip has not been so tight nor have you felt quite so alone. Taehyung has taken your heart and wrapped himself around it, building a bower for the two of you filled with hope and life. He is your spring, your fresh start, your new day, your sun-filled clear sky.

Once there was terror and a world clouded by your desperate need to protect yourself but then was Taehyung and then then there was wholeness; peace, joy and love.

Now, facing life without him, what is left?

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

It took an age for you to settle to sleep, but eventually you did, burrowing into his hold and smiling as, even in sleep, he wraps himself, sloth-like, around you. Sleep finds you then and pulls you into its depths, soothing your conflicted mind and repairing your aching body.

When you wake, hours later, the sun is low in the sky. You stagger from the bed in search of water, smiling in the orange glow of light at the sound of gentle birdsong in the last warmth of the day. Filling your glass at the bathroom sink, you wonder where to begin with Taehyung. You don’t know where you’re going next, but you’re certain that the path ahead is together.

Taking a deep breath through your nose, you return to the bedroom and realise for the first time that the bed is empty. 

He’s gone.

Your heart races suddenly, but you know the bed was still warm - maybe he just nipped out or food or something? Then your name slaps you across your face: a folded note on hotel stationery on the narrow desk. You snatch it up with trembling fingers, stumbling backwards to sit on the edge of the bed as you begin to read:

“Thank you for being with me one final time. You are the love of my life. I love you so fucking much - I love you TOO fucking much to put you through having to break up with me. I know we can’t be together, I know I’ve lost you. I deserve that, but you don’t deserve the pain of having to do it. Thank you for loving me - being loved by you was the only real joy I’ve ever known. Thank you for everything you’ve given me, I wish I had been worthy of it. I love you and always will.”

Your silent tears turn to wailing sobs as you reach “Goodbye, Your Taehyung,” and again the room closes in on you.

You dress quickly and in silence. There is no bar needed now, no sleaze to flirt with, the only thought in your mind for some reason you cannot explain is the pull of that birdsong and the orange light at the close of the day: you have to reach it.

Panic doesn’t come now, only numbness and shock as you move, zombie-like, through the hotel and out into the street, wandering to the park where only yesterday or a thousand years ago, you met Yideum. As your feet meet the soft grass, you kick off your shoes, digging your toes into the soft earth and walk purposefully to the river beyond. It’s there that the birdsong is loudest, in the trees that line the curving waters. Your pace quickens as you hurry there, you don’t know what answers you expect or what relief you might find, you simply follow the urge driven by the emptiness inside you.

Ivy-strewn and crumbling, a low wall edges the deep river below. It may present a glassy surface, reflecting the branches above and the orange glowing sun, but beneath the waters swirl dangerously in frigid depths. Undeterred, you clamber on to the wall, dangling your legs onto the bank below, then you freeze, leaning forward. From the other bank a crane cocks its head at you, evaluating the interloper on its territory, its thin legs picking a careful path through the shallows.

You ease yourself backwards, slowly sitting up not to startle the bird when suddenly, and bizarrely, your shoes fly past you into the river below; the startled crane has only time for a scornful glance before it beats its wings and takes to the air just as your breath is knocked out of you. Arms close tightly around you in a suffocating grip, while you’re pulled back against a strong, firm chest containing a wildly beating heart.

“What the fuck are you doing?” shrieks Taehyung, manhandling you backwards and off the wall before he releases you, leaving the two of you staring at each other in shock.

Catching your breath, you turn the question on him, “What the fuck are you doing?” you accuse, “You walk out on me, then throw my shoes at me, then yank me about? What’s going on?” There’s no anger in you, just utter confusion as you take in his red, puffy eyes and tear-thickened voice.

He shakes his head, “No, no - that’s not what happened. I was sitting over there,” he gestures vaguely to a bench not far from where you kicked your shoes off, “Then you come in and kick your shoes off - moving like a zombie heading for the river ready to chuck yourself in!”

You frown, “Chuck myself in? What?”

“I saw you!” he cries, slightly dementedly, “You were leaning forward, planning it!”

You laugh then, a genuine laugh from deep in your belly, almost folding in half, “No, you silly sod,” you wheeze, “There was a crane, and I didn’t want to startle it… I wasn’t going to drown myself, you fool!”

“Oh…” he says, diminished and made small.

“Why’d you throw my shoes in the river?” You ask, still giggling as you look in the water to see that thankfully they’ve caught in the roots of a tree.

“To distract you,” he says from behind you, his tone sheepish and embarrassed, “So I could grab you in time.”

You face him, still smiling and even though your face is tear streaked and tired, you’ve never been more beautiful to him, “Taehyung,” you say, interrupting his reverie, “I’d like my shoes back.”

Pressing his lips together he nods and accepts his punishment. You retake your seat on the wall as he carefully climbs over and retrieves your shoes with the aid of a large stick that you pass him, your mouth twitching in amusement. When your soaked shoes have been placed beside you with a flood of apologies, he takes a seat beside you and you sit together in silence.

Eventually, blinking from the bright glare of the sinking sun, you speak, “Taehyung?” you ask softly.

“Yes?” he replies with the same tender trepidation, turning to face you.

“Can I ask something else of you?” you almost mumble, your hands nervously knotting together, nails catching in your skin as you avoid his eyes.

He places one large hand over yours to soothe you, but you don’t look up, yet neither do you flinch away and his heart is gladdened, “Anything,” he confirms. What wouldn’t he give you? His heart will always be yours even if you don’t want it.

You mutter something incoherently, tears running down your face; with his other hand he cups your chin and guides your face towards his, “Say that again ba-,” he catches himself, stubbing out the word he no longer has any right to call you.

Your lip trembles, but you manage to look him in the eye, “Please don’t leave me.”

He smiles in relief, “I’ll stay as long as you need me to, don’t worry,” he promises.

You sigh and cringe simultaneously, elaborating, “No, I mean, don’t break up with me.”

He frowns now, confused, “You were breaking up with me?” He utters, wondering what you mean… Do you need to be the one to do it? He breathes deeply, “I understand, I get it. You need closure, you need to be the one to do it. I’m sorry, I was trying to spare you it - but I get it. You do what you have to do.”

You roll your eyes now, almost amused, “That’s not what I’m saying,” you groan, “What I need is you. I’m asking you to be with me so we can work this out together.”

You thought that you had seen the full panoply of Taehyung smiles until this moment. The grin he offers you now is one of eye-disappearing heart-shaped pure joy and relief, “Really?” he asks.

“What we have, Taehyung,” you begin, “…I don’t want lose it because you majorly fucked up in the past. There’s a lot to do, there are things I’ll need you to do, but I want to do find our way through it.”

He softens, “I will do anything for you,” he promises, clutching on to your hands with both of his, “I love you.”

You kiss him gently, soothing his aching heart and racing pulse. In turn, he kisses you back, your own heart calming, the chill in your veins melting away, “I love you too.”

⍟ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⊛ ⍟

Weeks later, Minho, Jihan and Jimin sit on the far wall of Minho’s roof terrace drinking; Aera and Ellie are building up the fire pit; Jessi is setting up the grill whilst Hyejin prevents Namjoon from ‘helping’; downstairs Jihoon and Jiho are putting the finishing touches to their so-called ‘legendary’ barbecue skills, marinating meat, tofu and prepping veggies.

Minho gestures towards the seating area with a tilt of his beer, where you lean into Taehyung, his arm slung around your shoulders, his mouth pressing kisses into your hair as the two of you mumble together in your own little world, “Everything seems to be ok between those two now,” he smiles, “Though it was a bit weird for a time there,” he finishes with a pointed and searching look at Jimin.

Jimin holds his hands up, “I admit I caused some chaos for a while there, but it was necessary and it’s all worked out.”

“Has it?” Minho presses, “Because I heard he’s in therapy now and the three of you went sloping off to see his mother and all sorts of strangeness - I’m just looking out for her.”

Jihan, to whom Taehyung has confessed everything, nods, “Look, Minho, Taehyung fucked up in the past ok? He didn’t do any of the things Jiho thought he’d done, but he did some seriously shitty stuff. The people who need to know, know now and he’s working on himself. He loves her, he’s no threat to her - trust me.”

“Trust us,” Jimin reinforces, “We’re with him, every step of the way and we are keeping an eye on him too.”

Minho doesn’t like not knowing, but he accepts there’s probably a reason for it. His gaze lingers on the two of you, your outlines picked out in gold from the setting sun. He has to admit that whatever has happened between you has tipped the scales of your relationship: Taehyung is no longer the dominating force he once was… to Minho things seem more balanced somehow. There seems to be a solid fulcrum between you finally: a centre that holds you both steady. He smiles as watches Taehyung interlace his fingers with yours, the two of you settling together in harmony. Minho might not know everything, but he knows what love is and what peace is and how elusive both can be… as you and Taehyung try to secretly share a giggly kiss, he knows you two have found it with each other.

<<< Back to masterlist

A/N: This chapter ends the story and my time writing on Tumblr for the foreseeable future - I hope one day I have more writing to share. Thanks for reading - I’d appreciate you sharing your thoughts if you’d be so kind.

Finally, a big thanks to anyone who has read and supported my writing. I really appreciate everything you’ve said and done.

Love you all,

Ffion 💛

#taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #bts fanfic #bts smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #bangtanwhq #btswritersclub #minors please don’t read

[randomingoftherandomness]

Fic: I know I love you

Tags: Gong Shangjue x Gong Yuanzhi, High School AU, Cousin Incest, Singer Gong Yuanzhi, Pining, Talent Show, Age Difference, Businessman Gong Shangjue, gonna add the underage tag just coz of the age difference

A/N: This is the song that got me back into Kpop. As a Gen 2 fan, I never thought I would ever get back into it once I left that group of friends who loved it as much as I did. But there I was, diving headfirst into Gen 4 Kpop and thus far, it's been great.

This is all to say that it's okay to be a fan of something. There's no age limit to be a fan and as long as you're not hurting anyone with your passion and enthusiasm, you're good :) If you needed to hear this today, there's always a place in fannish spaces for us older fans. No matter what other people might say x

If Gong Yuanzhi were to say that he didn't feel an ounce of nervousness, that would be a lie.

Sneaking a peek at the auditorium's crowd, he hears a loud cheer - definitely led by his cousin Ziyu, the absolute simp - when Yun Weishan's voice starts going into the chorus of that earworm of a song by Esther Yu. Next to him, he can feel Jin Fan pushing at his shoulder so that he can steal a glimpse of his other cousin Zishang who had partnered up with Yun Weishan.

He's surrounded by simps, he swears.

Turning back to where Jin Fu, Jin Fan's fraternal twin, is twirling his drums and this quiet dude they only know as Ah Yue is testing out the keyboards, Yuanzhi meets the latter's eyes and nods.

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Yuanzhi huffs, fiddling with his guitar for the umpteenth time. Ah Yue takes pity on him and claps him on the shoulder. He doesn't even ask him the question he knows he wants to ask.

It's fine, Yuanzhi tries to reason. It's fine if he doesn't come tonight.

Logically, he knows that Shangjue gege is probably busy if not on another plane to another city to negotiate another deal to fatten up the family's coffers. More than that, he knows that Shangjue would have about a million things better to do on a Friday night than to attend some high school talent show just because half of the family's younger cousins are part of it.

Still, hope springs eternal. Even if reality is proving otherwise.

From where they stand at the curtained eaves of the stage, they can hear Yun Weishan and Zishang jie's voices bleeding into the final notes of their performance. It's show time.

"Deep breaths, yeah?" Ah Yue says, bumping fists with Yuanzhi as they step onto the stage to the applause of the audience.

They take their place as the emcees of the night announce their names and their class number. Breathing in deeply, Yuanzhi squints out at shadowed faces of the crowd, trying to quell the rapid-fire beating of his heart.

Positions himself at the microphone, he takes a deep breath, fingers pressing down on the opening chord.

I know I love you

Yuanzhi pours his heart into that opening growl. Behind him, he hears the guys start up on their instruments just like they'd spent hours and hours practising. Part of him wants to turn around, grin with glee at how cool this all is, but he holds on to what he needs to do.

In this world of zero, I know you're my one and only 

Try as he may, he cannot help his mind from turning to his gege. The lyrics of the song speak to a truth that his soul knows -- has known for a while now.

My life before you was a mess

Yuanzhi blinks and he can pick out Ziyu cheering him on in the shadows with a borderline maniacal grin. A warm sort of glow settles in his chest. This silly cousin of his...

He can’t help the grin of his own as he sinks his voice into the words. Adrenaline pumps through his veins when he hears Ah Yue’s voice harmonise with his own.

Now I can't stop thinking 'bout you, When I'm sinking alone

The beat kicks up. The drums start to pound through his chest and Yuanzhi closes his eyes as the guys all start singing together.

I know it's real, I can feel it

Yuanzhi feels free in the words of the song. Fingers strumming along as he tastes the way the crowd begins to cheer.

When he opens his eyes again, there he is. Standing in the back of the auditorium, haloed by the exit sign, but he’s here. In the shadows.

Yuanzhi can hardly believe it.

No.

He can’t bring himself to believe it.

I'm a loser in this game

For the longest time, Yuanzhi had trusted in the emotions that tells him he loves Shangjue gege like a brother. Fond and protective in a familial way, respect and admiration all wrapped into how Shangjue gege is so capable and strong.

There was always a thread of gratefulness, too, when Yuanzhi thinks about his emotions. Grateful that Shangjue took him in and practically helped to raise him.

If there was anyone who deserved his love, it’d be Shangjue gege.

All or nothing, I want all of you 

But emotions change.

And recently, Yuanzhi’s heart hurts whenever he thinks about how Shangjue is being expected to marry and have kids.

Even more so when he thinks of gege having someone to love and hold in that way. In the deepest darkness of the night hours, Yuanzhi can admit into the shadows that he wants to be the person that Gege holds and loves. Especially if it’s in that way.

I'm full of problems, love sick 

Yuanzhi keeps his eyes fixed on the shadowed halo on the fringes of the room.

Everything else fades away and he bleeds his heart and soul into the words. Meaning every syllable, every beat, every lilt and crescendo.

In some distant part of his senses, he can hear his band mates carry their own parts as they harmonise together. Yuanzhi doesn’t linger on them.

He keeps his eyes on his prize.

Say you love me, to the end of the world 

Logically, Yuanzhi knows it’s wrong.

If he ever verbalised the exact emotions he feels about Shangjue, chances are he’d be excommunicated from the family. He can imagine the looks of disgust and contempt; can see it in his nightmares.

He knows Shangjue gege can tell something is wrong, but how does one even begin to tell the object of your affections that you love them in the romantic way that begs to burn down any bridge that could cultivate it back into familiar familial feelings?

Loss of his gege is unacceptable. The only thing left for Yuanzhi is to sing it.

All or nothing, I give all of you 

The auditorium shakes with the force of the audience’s cheers. Ah Yue, Jin Fan, and Jin Fu all clamour around him to wrap him up in a hug before they take a bow to the standing ovation they receive.

Yuanzhi turns back to the spot in the shadow and has to kill the bud of disappointment that starts to flower. He doesn’t have a right to feel that way, no.

So, he accepts the applause with a smile, bows politely and jogs backstage where Zishang jie is squealing and pulling him into a rib cracking hug before she jumps right into Jin Fan’s arms.

“Are you alright?” Ah Yue asks, a hand on his wrist. Outside, the next group takes their place in the spotlight. Yuanzhi nods, moving quickly to where they’d stash their bags and cases.

He feels sick.

What was he doing thinking that Shangjue ge was even here tonight? More than that, what the hell was he even dreaming about that Gege would even understand that this song is dedicated to him?

He stuffs his guitar back into its case, snapping it shut and gathering his bag.

“I’ll see you guys on Monday ok?”

“Hey, where are you going?” Jin Fu frowns. “They haven’t announced the winners!”

Yuanzhi can only shake his head and plaster on a weak grin. “I…”

“He’s coming home with me.”

Yuanzhi thinks his soul jumped right out of him and into the underworld. Literal chills start breaking out down his spine when Shangjue gege steps confidently forward and wordlessly takes his school bag. Sliding their palms together, he tangles their fingers, guiding him away and out of the backstage area.

“Gege, what are you—“

“My Didi gave me a ticket to his school’s talent show. Did you think I was going to miss it?”

Yuanzhi wisely keeps his mouth shut.

Shangjue scoffs, weaving them through a sea of performers and their assortment of props and costumes. In no time, Yuanzhi is breathing in a lungful of cool, crisp night air, but gege doesn’t stop and he stumbles a little to keep up.

“Gege—“

“Get in the car,” Shangjue says, letting go of him to move to the driver’s side. When Yuanzhi doesn’t immediately follow, he turns, sighing. Coming back to Yuanzhi, he cups him by the cheek.

Running his thumb over his cheekbone, Gege purses his lips. “We need to have a conversation and I’d rather we do it in the car.”

Yuanzhi numbly tips his head, looking down on the asphalt of the school parking lot while Shangjue manoeuvres the guitar case off him and into the back of his Jaguar, and then shuffles him into the front passenger seat, buckling him in with a smooth practiced motion.

Panic and trepidation sits thick on his tongue.

“Where do you want to start?” Shangjue says over the hum of the car’s engine as he takes them out of the parking lot and into the main road.

“I don’t even know where to do that,” Yuanzhi admits. He starts to fidget with his fingers, stilling with a start when Shangjue gege takes his hand into his own again. Deftly switching lanes, Yuanzhi watched the streetlights wash over the dark interior of the car in measured intervals.

“You’re my Didi,” Gege says. “I’m your Gege. It’s as simple as that.”

The words twist something sour in his chest. It’s the undeniable truth and one he can’t even run away from no matter how hard he tries to.

“Yeah.” Yuanzhi mumbles. Squeezing Gege’s hand he makes to pull away, only for Shangjue to hold on tightly.

Shangjue’s eyes are focused on the road. Cool and calm as he safely merges the car into the evening traffic.

“Yuanzhi, once again you’re hearing and not listening.”

Not a little offended, Yuanzhi tries to pry his hand out of Shangjue’s only to fail miserably when his gege huffs.

“I know you love me.”

Yuanzhi blinks owlishly, brain shorting out at the soft smile that Shangjue gege sports when he inches the car forward.

“Did you think I wasn’t listening?”

“I didn’t know what to think,” Yuanzhi manages. Shangjue’s hand squeezes his thrice.

A gentle quiet settles in the hush of the car. It’s not unpleasant, more so when Shangjue carefully lifts their hands to his lips. The gesture sends a thrill down Yuanzhi’s spine, especially when he lets go only to change gears, then sliding their hands back together again.

“I was going to wait until you’re a little older to broach the topic. I didn’t…” Shangjue trails off, throat bobbing. “I didn’t want it to seems like I was pressuring you into anything…”

Yuanzhi feels his cheeks warm.

“You wouldn’t have—“

“But I would have.” Shangjue cuts with certainty. “You wouldn’t have been anything but willing and that’s what makes it dangerous.”

Carefully, with an infinite tenderness Yuanzhi was sure he could never pour into another person, Yuanzhi whispers, “And yet I would have loved you.”

Shangjue turns to him. “I won’t apologise for making you wait.”

“How long?”

Shangjue blinks, confusion colouring his brow. “How long?”

“How long do I have to wait?” Yuanzhi elaborates. “How long until you will be comfortable with… this?”

The laughter that bubbles up in the car makes him smile. His heart settles in the sound of it, then picks up again at the way Shangjue looks at him syrup soft with an intensity that Yuanzhi now has a name for.

“Get into your top choice for university and then we will talk.”

Yuanzhi smiles. “Do you promise, Ge?”

“All or nothing, Didi.” Shangjue replies easily, running his thumb over the back of Yuanzhi’s hand.

#gong shangjue x gong yuanzhi #my journey to you #my journey to you fic #gong yuanzhi #gong shangjue #gab writes stuff

[punemy-spotted]

Hiya, its Athena for Thursday Ask-A-Thon over at @ask-a-thon: How have your experiences in life shaped your writing?

Oh Athena.

Athena.

This question means the world to me, I cannot tell you how much. As usual, I'm going to ramble, because this is absolutely a special interest of mine in writing and fandom and boy howdy do my experiences shape my writing.

As always, answers below the cut, and general content warning for gender-based violence, workplace sexual harassment, and trauma.

My experiences are my writing. Especially as someone who writes Reader-Insert, I'm a big advocate for writers to write their catharsis and their experiences.

While it is certainly appropriate (and polite, in certain circumstances) to write "neutral" Readers who have no defined physical attributes so that the person reading the fic can slot themselves into that blank space, I also constantly encourage writers — especially writers of color; disabled writers; queer, nonbinary, and trans writers; and writers who write for male readers — to write their story too. If we can imagine ourselves as Avengers or loved by them, we can also imagine ourselves immersed in cultures we did not grow up in — it only increases our empathy and understanding of the world outside our "bubble" if we do. For my experience, as a Desi writer, I don't know how to be anything but a Desi writer. My culture is embedded into my bones, there are so many things I do as a Desi-American that non-Desi folk don't do (and vice versa) that sometimes I'm shocked when I talk to folks who have grown up outside of the little Desi Bubble I grew up in (and shocked when I talk to folks who were even more immersed in Desi culture, because the Midwestern United States is not exactly a haven for Dawoodi Bohra Muslims, and that leads to a weird relationship with one's own culture). I am open about the fact that my Readers are generally coded as Desi and always invite non-Desi folk to read the stories to get a glimpse into that life. The body is a shell, and though it may change from writer to writer, the reader is still themselves and their soul can travel dimensions.

As for concrete examples of that, boy howdy, let's take a look at my whole Masterlist, shall we? The Cut is about my experience as an FGM survivor and how FGM completely altered the way I engage with my body as a being able to feel pleasure — and therefore, what it means to be loved, to forgive, and be forgiven. In that same vein, For Blue Skies is a story about facing Ikaris — an Eternal, a being who masqueraded as an ancient god for so many years — and knowing that he could have prevented something like the tradition of FGM but did not, for whatever reason. One of my most popular fic series, The Price you Pay, features a Reader character who, like me, was taken advantage of by a powerful man when she was in a vulnerable position compared to him, upending her career — she and I made very different decisions, but the root of our pain is the same. One of the first ever fics I published on Tumblr, Everything You Stand For, was an exploration of catharsis, of how the repeated denial of justice could lead someone like me to side with someone like Helmut Zemo, because when doing things the right way fails... how far are you willing to go to quell the fire in your chest?

In a way, every fic I have ever written has carried a piece of me. My culture, my language, my pain and pleasures. When I share, I share not just the thing I am passionate about in the form of the story, but the emotional context that drove me to think it up and create the world. So... how have my experiences shaped my writing? They've defined it.

#shroombox #heavensfallenfaction #thursday ask-a-thon #ask-a-thon #this question means so much to me but also this is such a pared down version of my dissertation #welcome to writing with tessa where i overshare about my life all the time

[namandabu]

Bad Student

Today, while I was attending the service at my Temple online, one of the cats that lives at our house wanted to come into the room. She is a small Tortiseshell kitten, with a huge personality. She came in, explored the room, and eventually fell asleep on the bed nearby while I listened to the Dharma Talk.

In this sense, she and I are much the same. Truth be told, I am a bad student. Don't get me wrong, I am good at school, but this does not mean that I'm a good student by any means. If I had a dollar for every time I fell asleep during a lecture or class, I would be able to pay my college debt in full.

With Buddhism, it is no different. My mind often wanders during Dharma talks, and I have fallen asleep on one or two occasions! This is a shame, but I think it is also a great joy. That I am even in these sessions with these great people giving these talks is such a precious and wonderous thing that simply falling asleep during it cannot ruin it for me. In fact, it makes the whole experience unique, as though this Dharma was tailored to bad students like me. Because even though I fall asleep during these talks, I don't feel like my fundamental understanding wavers that much. Of course, I still have doubts, but they are quelled by the simple recitation of the Nembutsu and by the simple truth that Amida never forgets or abandons those within his infinite Light.

In the Larger Sutra, Shakyamuni Buddha talks about how one can hear the Pure Land Dharma if one has seen a Buddha in a previous life. Yet also, blind passions can obstruct this hearing momentarily. My mind wandering is evidence of this, yet I keep coming back.

Perhaps, in a past life, I was a rambunctious kitten. Perhaps after a long day of hunting mice, playing, and making mischief, I wandered into a temple hall. I like to think that I took a nap there, unnoticed by the attendees listening to Shakyamuni, and perhaps that is what led to this moment right now.

Namu Amida Butsu

#buddhism #amitabha #jodo shinshu #mahayana #namu amida butsu #pure land #buddha #buddhist #dharma

[hunxi-after-hours]

hi hunxi, just wondering if you have thoughts on the weibo blowup over the tgcf audio drama? from what i've read, people are upset about the following:

there's negativity surrounding both lead voice actors, but the majority consensus seems to be that 双儿's voice isn't suitable for xie lian. there's also a screenshot circulating of a comment in an anonymous discussion forum posted in march 2022, which accuses the production company of 内选 and of using the ip as a “捧人的垫脚石”. aside from the very loaded language, the predictions in the comment seem mostly to have come true (which has led some people to speculate that it was actually released by someone within the company itself, either as a "whistleblower" situation or to test out reactions beforehand).

fans of the book dislike the way that mentions of mxtx + new tgcf content were apparently dragged into the behind-the-scenes video to ... quell public outrage? i personally don't see a problem, but weibo posters put a lot of emphasis on the fact that 新修 chapters were underway BEFORE the audio drama and therefore not "exclusive" audio content or written for the express purpose of the audio drama's production.

there's a whole lot more that won't include here (hot search/rankings allegedly being bought, voice actor fans shading book fans, etc), but i really hope this isn't an insensitive or overly negative ask. i'm just surprised that chinese vs international fandoms are having such wildly different reactions.

hi anon! honestly, looks like you've summed it up pretty well — I came to the TGCF audiodrama to have a good time and was surprised by how much negativity there was in CN fan circles about it?

(post got long, throwing it under a cut)

I assume there's probably some history/drama surrounding these supposedly contentious aspects of the TGCF AD production, so I suppose qualifiers are in order: I've got legitimately no idea where the anti-729 sentiment is coming from (?? they do good work???), or about the history of nepotism/favoritism in voice actor circles (?????). truly, everything I know begins and ends with 《我是特优声》 and my misadventures on 猫耳, so I'm doubtlessly missing out on any drama from like, before 2021

that being said, I can't say I understand the anti-casting sentiment because, well... 苏尚勤 is a legitimately experienced and lauded voice actor who's familiar with MXTX's work, and while 陈张太康 is a somewhat newer face, anyone who's watched 《我是特优声》 or listened to his audiodramas knows that he's got an extremely impressive range that I personally think is very suited to the dynamic aspects of Hua Cheng's character. from the very little I've spotted on weibo/the 猫耳 评论区, it seems like people are taking issue with... how young 苏尚勤 sounds? which is like. fam. you know what voice actors do for a living, right? change their voices to embody different characters? you truly cannot judge how well a voice actor performs in an AD based on a five minute trailer alone. give it a few episodes/a season since they're apparently giving out the entire season for free for two months, and then we'll talk

I think a lot of the “声音不贴角色” complaints come from, well, fans of the book expecting these few lines we've heard so far to truly embody the breathtaking complexity of these characters all at once, which is rather impossible. the thing about Xie Lian and Hua Cheng is that they are young, and old, and tired, and passionate, and faithful, and trusting, and cruel, kind, but all at different times. so Xie Lian sounds young now? give the voice actor a chance to show how exhausted and jaded and tired he becomes later, in the flashback arcs. so Hua Cheng doesn't sound like the badass ghost king we know him for? that actually 100% makes sense, he's in San Lang mode right now, and if you watched 陈张太康's rendition of 《灵笼》, you KNOW he can do arrogant, vicious royalty when it comes to it

also, looking across the cast list for the AD, this doesn't seem to be 内选 unless it's like... 内选 within the 京圈 voice acting circle?? which to be fair is like. maybe 200 people total asldkfjadlsf (look if you want to diversify your voice acting cast then let's see some 沪圈 rep huh?? #give毛毛老师anotherbitroleagain). the voice actors in the TGCF AD cast come from a vast assortment of different voice acting studios, from 729 to 边工 to 翼之声 to 光合积木 to unaffiliated with professional studios at all, so I'm??? confused??? at allegations of unfairness in casting??

I also saw some of those 弹幕 complaining about how they kept bringing up the MDZS production in the 制作谈 and I'm spectacularly baffled as to why that's a problem considering that much of the production staff had worked on the MDZS AD and it's. by. the same. author. and anyway, much of their discussion of the MDZS AD in the TGCF 制作谈 was specifically about shortcomings in the MDZS AD that they were learning from and seeking to improve this time around, which feels relevant and not particularly 刷好感 to me

tl;dr I think the TGCF AD production team worked very hard on this and are genuinely trying their best, and that all judgment should be reserved until after the season airs. there really is no point in trying to offer a holistic critique based on five-minute trailer alone, and like, I don't know how many morality points one would get from boycotting an AD but tbh it seems kind of. negligible. so let's all just kick back and enjoy this absolutely stacked production while it's being generously offered for free, shall we?

#to be totally honest all the negativity I'm seeing seems like 黑粉/水军活动 so I'm inclined to discount their validity #but also knowing that people are apparently still trying to cancel 边江 in 2022?? presumably over wishing 肖战 a happy birthday in 2020?? #反正有些在网上活动的人是不带脑子的 #I've seen a lot of complaints about the casting but very little suggestions for who SHOULD have been cast beyond the donghua voice cast #which I respect! having different voice casts between the donghua and the AD can be jarring! #but like...... different production teams have different interpretations of text and characters and that's just fine? #idk I'll believe that 苏尚勤 is a bad choice when someone offers me a better alternative who isn't 姜sir #I've said it before and I'll say it again: I WILL 为太康老师打call if I have to #I feel pretty neutral about 苏尚勤's casting but I feel STRONGLY POSITIVE about 太康 #我这个人是离不开《特优声》的坑

[meddeadde]

As I sit here and contemplate the depths of my emotions, I am overwhelmed by an intense longing that only your presence can quell. I find myself yearning for you with an unyielding passion that grows stronger with each passing mome bk nt.

From the moment our paths intertwined, you have become an inseparable part of my existence. Your love has woven itself into the very fabric of my being, leaving an indelible mark on my heart. The days without you seem incomplete, as if a vital piece of me is missing. Every corner I turn reminds me of the memories we've shared, and my heart aches to create new ones with you by my side

I miss everything about you—the way your eyes light up when you smile, the sound of your laughter that fills the room with joy, and the gentle touch of your hand that sends shivers down my spine. Your presence has the power to soothe my soul and bring solace to my weary heart. The moments spent in your arms are the ones where I feel most at peace, where the world around us fades away, and it's just you and me, bound by an unbreakable bond.

No distance can diminish the intensity of my love for you. With every beat of my heart, my love for you grows stronger, for you have shown me a love so profound and pure that it has become the essence of my existence. You are my anchor, my sanctuary, and the embodiment of all that is good and beautiful in this world.

Please know that you are deeply cherished and adored. Your absence has made me realize just how vital you are to my happiness. The mere (get it) (eheh) thought of you brings a smile to my face and a warmth that radiates from within. You complete me in ways words cannot express, and I find comfort in knowing that our love transcends physical boundaries and stands the test of time.

Until the day we are reunited, my love, I will carry your presence within my heart, drawing strength and inspiration from the memories we have shared. I eagerly await the moment when we can once again embrace, when I can lose myself in your arms and feel the world come alive.

Until then, please remember that you are loved beyond measure. Distance may separate us, but it cannot diminish the flame that burns eternally in my heart.

@truly-flawed

i love you <3

[navneetnotfound]

Love's Bittersweet Symphony

In the realm of love's ethereal grasp,

My heart yearns for you, in shadows it basks.

Yet fate's cruel decree sets us apart,

For I must confess the ache in my heart.

Like star-crossed souls adrift on distant shores,

Our love blooms, but destiny implores.

A tender whisper, my lips now confide,

"Iloveyou," (without space) but our paths must divide.

Like a fragile butterfly, captured in flight,

I am bound by circumstances, day and night.

Though passion burns, our destinies twain,

I am but a wistful breeze in love's domain.

In dreams we dance, entwined in desire,

Yet reality's grip quells love's raging fire.

Though I cannot be by your side, my dear,

Know that my love for you will always be near.

So let these words, like petals in the wind,

Carry my love to you, wherever you've been.

For though I cannot hold you, our souls remain true,

In the depths of my being, forever, I love you.

[morgynamber]

I do feel bad for not being as available or involved in zines/fan events/w/e this year for the ace attorney community, last year i had a lot more to offer but i also have a pretty good explanation for why I'm not really active this year and I've talked about it sparingly on here and mentioned it to a few different mutuals but there's an ongoing housing struggle and i literally just cannot post for the sake of being involved on social media. I do not have the time nor the energy and I'm p much under constant stress. and I firmly believe that anyone going through something like this is under no obligation to address it because we are posting our hard work for *free* on social media, which may or may not be very constructive for the individual, all out of like. passion for the media or w/e, but I also do want to say something about it to quell any potential concern and just generally be transparent as to why I'm not interacting with community events or responding to things promptly or just. literally posting art. I am going through some shit that has actively inhibited my freedom TO participate and it is out of my control

[elisaenglish]

Marriage of the Light Talisman

“He seems to me equal to the gods that man whoever he is who opposite you sits and listens close     to your sweet speaking

and lovely laughing—oh it puts the heart in my chest on wings for when I look at you, even a moment, no speaking     is left in me

no: tongue breaks and thin fire is racing under skin and in eyes no sight and drumming     fills ears

and cold sweat holds me and shaking grips me all, greener than grass I am and dead—or almost     I seem to me.

But all is to be dared.”

-Sappho, Phainetai Moi-

I am fully aware that I’m misappropriating the meaning of this poem. However, in doing so, I am not in denial as much as I’m acknowledging the transcendent experiential aspects of where I am today, who I am in relation to a heart that—true to form, I suppose—refuses to be quelled. Besides, initially quoted in Longinus’ On the Sublime in either the first- or third-century AD, its accompanying commentary holds under the gaze of a diligent eye, throbs to know far more than established prohibition, positively aches if you feel that way inclined. And naturally, I do.

As Longinus writes:

“Are you not amazed how at one instant she summons, as though they were all alien from herself and dispersed, soul, body, ears, tongue, eyes, colour? Uniting contradictions, she is, at one and the same time, hot and cold, in her senses and out of her mind, for she is either terrified or at the point of death. The effect desired is that not one passion only should be seen in her, but a concourse of the passions.”

Typical of the representative “I” literary scholars have traditionally associated with Sappho’s fragments, there is more here than a hymeneal lament directed at a nameless bride. Instead, anxiety weaves a tortuous route from lurching pulse through to the silent anguish of pseudo-death imagined not as heaving throes unleashed but, rather, la petite mort just out of reach and doomed to crest alone.

Thus, to the observational me, “he” becomes a precipitant vision—an almost, maybe, never quite; a tentative unravelling owned only to the degree by which I may speak because I’m something other than the origin might imply. And whilst I recognise the scope for an androgynous universal, I speak as a woman—at least partially in love with this unified voice and its artistic execution.

Does it appeal because he does? No, not entirely. Anchored in the text, I am more myself than possessed per se. But the blood-beat of want is never as rational as scientific method. Just as illumination spills from metaphysics but cannot be contained there, alchemy manifests as a visceral thrust and, as such, I cannot flatter the flame into submission.

It burns. Heightened here for spring, perhaps, though nonetheless my companion need—perennial even as it wrecks me.

So it goes. For better, for worse. With sunrise armed. Or as the unknown poet writes in the fourth-century Pervigilium Veneris, “Cras amet qui numquam amavit, quique amavit cras amet.” They who have never loved will love tomorrow, and they who have loved will love again tomorrow.

I know.

I vow—in syllabic flight and splendour to him.

#writing #quote #poetry #women writers #love #art #depth #meaning #all eternal things #love in a time of... #somewhere warm #hope springs #in bloom #light me up #beauty's where you find it #inside of me #flowing complexity #from the heart #literary sensibilities #what a girl wants #more than words #intertextuality of sorts #casa romantica #because of course #this is who i am #elisa english #elisaenglish

[allthingsdarkanddirty]

She's starting over in a mysterious small town that's home to a very intriguing man...Waking the Dragon by Lia Davis& Lainie Anderson is available for preorder now!

Universal: https://geni.us/WakingtheDragon My life was a series of calculated risks and narrow escapes—until I stumbled upon Stock Creek, a picturesque town that promised solace from my haunted past. I'm Erin Montgomery, once just another face in the bustling streets of Chicago, now the wary owner of a cozy bed-and-breakfast. I believed I could start anew here, surrounded by the warm embrace of nature and the quirky charm of small-town living.

But Stock Creek is more than it seems, and so am I. My heart still races at night, not just from the memories of the cold steel pressed against my temple or the scent of gunpowder, but from the piercing green eyes of Ashton—a man shrouded in as much mystery as the town itself. A dragon-shifter with scales as dark as the secrets he keeps, his presence ignites a fire within me that I cannot quell.

Ashton's whispers are like a balm to my scarred soul, but his touch? It's an inferno that promises to consume us both. They say fate brought us together, two beings caught in the relentless storm of our intertwined destinies. He's the protector I never knew I needed; the missing piece that makes sense of my fragmented world. But even as we grow closer, danger lurks in the shadows, a reminder that my past is never too far behind.

***

I never believed in destiny. As a dragon-shifter living among humans, I've always been a master of my own fate—until Erin Montgomery crashed into my life like a tempest with eyes the color of a wild forest and hair like autumn's most daring flame.

She doesn't know it yet, but Erin is my fated mate. She sees me as the mysterious stranger who strolled into her B&B and saved her life. But our connection runs deeper than she can imagine. I can feel the pulse of her blood like the beat of a drum, calling to the very core of my being.

Erin's in danger and doesn't even know it. The shadows that chased her from the city streets of Chicago to the deceptive calm of Stock Creek are closing in. And I'll burn the world to ash before I let them touch her.

About Lia

USA Today bestselling author Lia Davis spends most of her time writing racy romance and witty women's fiction, the majority of which takes place in fantasy worlds full of magic and mayhem. She prides herself on her ability to craft strong and sassy heroines, emotionally intelligent alpha heroes, and rich, expansive universes that readers want to visit again and again. She is the mastermind behind the bestselling Ashwood Falls Series and the co-author of the beloved Witching After Forty Series. She currently resides in Florida where she's working on her very own happily-ever-after with her supportive husband and spends her free time doting on a pack of feisty felines and her loving family.  

About Lainie

Lainie lives in East Tennessee with her husband, three children, and an ever growing number of cats. She loves reading, watching TV, and procrastinating by browsing Facebook. Her passions include vampires, food, and listening to heavy metal music. She once won a Harry Potter trivia contest based on the books and lost one based on the movies. She has two bands on her bucket list that she still hasn’t seen: AC/DC and Alice Cooper. Feel free to send tickets.

Get Social With The Authors!  BookBub - Lia: http://bit.ly/2N3X2dS BookBub - Lainie: http://bit.ly/2Z2VA24 Facebook - Lia: http://bit.ly/2H7mhbL Facebook - Lainie: http://bit.ly/2ORBhk6 Website - Lia: https://authorliadavis.com Website - Lainie: https://laboruff.com 

#teaser #teasershare #bookteaser #comingsoon #preorder #bookpreorder #books #reading #readers #booklovers #shifterromance #dragonshifterromance #paranormalromance #pnr #supernaturalromance #fantasyromance #smalltown #smalltownromance #bookish #booknews #bookbuzz #booksbooksbooks