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#drawing people for the first time is always stressful
blue-ink-pearls · 2 days
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So, I know people are really desperate for Sandra Lynn to have hooked up with Pamela Dawn instead of Bobby Dawn, and I completely understand that!* Bobby Dawn is slimy and awful and we don't know much about Pamela, so maybe she's better? But it is 100% Bobby Dawn for two very clear reasons:
Sklonda literally said it was him
Bobby Dawn has always been a predator
The first thing we learn about Sandra Lynn's affair during Spring Break Sophomore Year was that she had just left Aguefort (she dropped out her senior year and got a diploma later on) and she was very young. She was asked to join an established adventuring party of people who were older than her and that had lost one of its members. She fell in love with another member of the party that was already in a relationship, they had an affair, and then when the affair was discovered, Sandra Lynn was blamed, kicked out of the party, and her name was smeared as far and wide as possible by the person who had taken advantage of her so that person could absolve themselves, likely in the eyes of their partner and the party.
So what we can immediately deduce from this is that Sandra Lynn was an outsider to her new adventuring party, likely looked down on as "just a kid", maybe disdained for being a dropout, and most definitely resented for taking the place of the (presumably) dead party member. She was in actively dangerous and stressful situations while questing with the party and she probably had little support from the group during that time.
Sandra Lynn was very very vulnerable.
When he met Sandra Lynn, Bobby Dawn would have been about 20 years younger than he is now, likely in his late 30s/early 40s.** Probably still handsome, still a "dashing" active adventurer. He was married to Pamela already (not just in an established relationship), since he had a child by then that was close to grown and I don't think the Church of Sol would be very happy about a child out of wedlock. He would have been a cleric of Sol and probably still preaching "the good word of Sol" but it likely wouldn't have been constant. You can't give sermons while fighting monsters. I'm sure he even saved Sandra Lynn's life a few times!
The thing about Bobby Dawn being a televangelist now, but not then, is that when he was young, he was probably just as good at persuasion, at finding vulnerable people and exploiting their weaknesses to get what he wanted, and yet he hadn't made a name for himself as a televangelist, so people wouldn't know to be wary of him trying to convert or manipulate them.
The scene between Bobby and Kristen, when Kristen is pretending that Cassandra died shows exactly what kind of terrible person Bobby really is. He is happy to find Kristen devastated, that she is having "a real dark night of the soul" and needs guidance. He refuses to help Kristen stay at Aguefort (something that's within his power), despite knowing how beneficial that would be to her well-being, because that goes against his own goals. He is smug and condescending and cruel. He is preying on Kristen's devastation and vulnerability (not knowing it's an act), to draw her back into the fold of the Church of Helio/Sol.
The person who did that to Kristen, is the exact same person who took advantage of Sandra Lynn when she was still basically a kid, just out of high school. He took advantage of her feelings for him, her inexperience and isolation. And then, when they were discovered, he threw her away and made her the villain so he could get away with it.
He ruined Sandra Lynn's life. Yes, she's happy now with her daughter, her partner, and the beautiful home they've made at Mordred Manor with Adaine, Kristen, Lydia, Ragh, Tracker, Zayn, Aelwyn, Boggy, and 15 cats. But Sandra Lynn ended up with self-esteem and relationship issues that she is still dealing with to this day. Those issues ruined her marriage, could have ruined her relationship with Jawbone, and likely played a hand in the difficulties between her and Fig in Freshman Year, as Sandra Lynn saw her daughter take her first steps into the world of adventuring.
Because Sandra Lynn first wanted to be an adventurer and Bobby Dawn took that away from her, just like he tried to do to Kristen.
Bobby Dawn has shaped his career as a high priest of Sol and as a televangelist by portraying himself as the epitome of righteousness. He is rotten to the core, a predator in a job where he is meant to help people, and I CANNOT WAIT to see the Bad Kids take him down.
*I don't really understand it. Pamela Dawn is likely just as bad as Bobby. She's the chief paladin of the church of Sol, her husband is a televangelist and a High Priest of Sol, and she would have been around the same age as Bobby and having an affair with a vulnerable young girl who she then kicked out of the group and slandered. It being Pamela would still be awful!
**Even with the assumption that both Bobby Dawn and his child had their kids at a young age, the math still has to take into account that Sandra Lynn's daughter is the same age as Bobby Dawn's GRANDSON.
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maryrouille · 2 days
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Toxic romanticization of studying
In a word of introduction, my profile partly shows that studying and exploring is wonderful. But as a person involved in science*, I would like to show healthy and true patterns of this beautiful adventure in acquiring knowledge.
The inspiration for writing this post this time was not the phenomenon from Tumblr (although you can also observe it here), but from Pinterest. There you can come across cycles composed of quotes and photos whose aim is to motivate young girls to learn, succeed and get good grades. These images often also show examples of characters from movies, TV series or real life that you can aspire to be like. Overall, I have to agree that it really works! But I would like to draw attention to certain elements that need to be verified.
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1. You shouldn't get up at 5am
First of all, the correct amount of sleep is one of the most important factors affecting the proper and effective functioning of our brain. During sleep, nerve cells regenerate, organize information acquired during the day and consolidate memory traces, which is directly related to learning. Lack of sleep increases impulsivity, deepens negative thinking and slows down the body's reaction time!
2. You can be a genius without good grades
Of course, good grades are a pleasant confirmation of our knowledge and praise for hard work. However, sometimes it is worth considering whether the structure of exams themselves, especially those with closed questions, affects the results. We often study for one specific exam, the knowledge of which may be very… limited and sometimes not useful, so it is worth prioritizing the topics that we study hard.
3. It's not cool to think you're better than others
We are different and have different priorities in life. It is also worth considering how many people escape from the rat race and start a slow, stress-free life. So we have to agree that judging people based on grades or responses under stress (sic!) is not cool.
The good thing about romanticizing studying
As I have already said, these types of collages are really motivating. So let's talk about what's great about them and what's worth highlighting and saving for later.
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1. Knowledge is beautiful, but your outfit and surroundings can also be
We know that we should never judge a book by its cover, but… the issue of social perception painfully confirms that we do and will continue to do so because this is how our brains work. And isn't it nice when someone looks at us and thinks this girl is so classy?
Moreover, a nice outfit that makes us feel good gives us a lot of self-confidence. There are also many studies confirming the positive impact on motivation and concentration of a neat and aesthetic workplace.
2. Not just cramming, but also discovering
Broadening your horizons is easier with passion and real commitment. And to achieve this, the topics must really interest us. Not everyone has yet found something that they are extremely passionate about in science, so that is why you have to dig deeper and discover different areas.
3. Don't be afraid to use your knowledge in practice
Schools and universities, unfortunately, have their own rules and they do not always allow you to show your 100% potential. Thus, share your knowledge with others externally, write essays, blog and social media. This form of activity also makes you learn things faster and easier. In addition, contacts with others will expand your knowledge.
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Therefore, I must say that it is worth choosing your inspirations carefully. Nothing helps you enjoy studying better than a clear head and lack of prejudices.
*This post was inspired by my own experience with studying. If anyone is interested, I think I can share my mistakes that did not help me in an academic adventure :)
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"Wylan looks like he always has a Capri Sun in his backpack."
- @kwfel
And I agree!! What do you think is his favourite flavour?
(Please click for better quality)
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qeyond · 1 year
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okay so i did basically 4.5 years of design school to become an industrial designer which is just a fancy degree word for "I make consumer products and curate user experiences" or whatever
ANYWAY I'm staring at the sketch of L's bong and I know, I KNOW, so deeply it would be productive to sketch up more concepts and brain storm like I was schooled to, but my burn out brain is like >:(((((( NO BRAIN STORM. NO CONCEPTUALIZE. ONLY SKETCH!!
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The thing with the Mari Lwyd, though, is that it's being... I don't know, 'appropriated' is the wrong word, but certainly turned into something it isn't.
Thing is, this is a folk tradition in the Welsh language, and that's the most important aspect of it. I feel partly responsible for this, because I accidentally became a bit of an expert on the topic of the Mari Lwyd in a post that escaped Tumblr containment, and I clearly didn't stress it strongly enough there (in my defence, I wrote that post for ten likes and some attention); but this is a Welsh language tradition, conducted in Welsh, using Welsh language poetic forms that are older than the entire English language, and also a very specific sung melody (with a very specific first verse; that's Cân y Fari). It is not actually a 'rap battle'. It's not a recited poem. It is not any old rhyme scheme however you want.
It is not in English.
Given the extensive and frankly ongoing attempts by England to wipe out Welsh, and its attendant cultural traditions, the Mari is being revived across Wales as an act of linguistic-cultural defiance. She's a symbol of Welsh language culture, specifically; an icon to remind that we are a distinct people, with our own culture and traditions, and in spite of everyone and everything, we're still here. Separating her from that by removing the Welsh is, to put it mildly, wildly disrespectful.
...but it IS what I'm increasingly seeing, both online and in real world Mari Lwyd festivals. She's gained enormous pop-culture popularity in recent years, which is fantastic; but she's also been reduced from the tradition to just an aesthetic now.
So many people are talking/drawing about her as though she's a cryptid or a mythological figure, rather than the folk practice of shoving a skull on a stick and pretending to be a naughty horse for cheese and drunken larks. And I get it! It's an intriguing visual! Some of the artwork is great! But this is not what she is. She's not a Krampus equivalent for your Dark Christmas aesthetic.
I see people writing their own version of the pwnco (though never called the pwnco; almost always called some variant on 'Mari Lwyd rap battle'), and as fun as these are, they are never even written in the meter and poetic rules of Cân y Fari, much less in Welsh, and they never conclude with the promise to behave before letting the Mari into the house. The pwnco is the central part to the tradition; this is the Welsh language part, the bit that's important and matters.
Mari Lwyd festivals are increasingly just English wassail festivals with a Mari or two present. The Swansea one last weekend didn't even include a Mari trying to break into a building (insert Shrek meme); there was no pwnco at all. Even in the Chepstow ones, they didn't do actual Cân y Fari; just a couple of recited verses. Instead, the Maris are just an aesthetic, a way to make it look a bit more Welsh, without having to commit to the unfashionable inconvenience of actually including Welsh.
And I don't really know what the answers are to these. I can tell you what I'd like - I'd like art to include the Welsh somewhere, maybe incorporating the first line of Cân y Fari like this one did, to keep it connected to the actual Welsh tradition (or other Welsh, if other phrases are preferred). I'd like people who want to write their version of the pwnco to respect the actual tradition of it by using Cân y Fari's meter and rhyme scheme, finishing with the promise to behave, and actually calling it the pwnco rather than a rap battle (and preferably in Welsh, though I do understand that's not always possible lol). I'd like to see the festivals actually observe the tradition, and include a link on the booking website to an audio clip of Cân y Fari and the words to the first verse, so attendees who want to can learn it ahead of time. I don't know how feasible any of that is, of course! But that's what I'd like to see.
I don't know. This is rambly. But it's something I've been thinking about - and increasingly nettled by - for a while. There's was something so affirming and wonderful at first about seeing the Mari's climb into international recognition, but it's very much turned to dismay by now, because she's important to my endangered culture and yet that's the part that everyone apparently wants to drop for being too awkward and ruining the aesthetic. It's very frustrating.
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soyoursoulisgreen · 6 months
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5, 11, and 30 for the artist ask meme!
5. Estimate of how much of your art you post online vs. the art you keep for yourself
It's increased over time! Well, actually, it's been a bell curve, kind of. Maybe more like a roller coaster lol. Obviously before I was online I wasn't sharing any of the stuff I drew; I drew for about seven years before posting anything - casually, for my own entertainment - and then for a while I was posting almost everything in some form or another; if I didn't post the original doodle, it was because I cleaned it digitally! But I got pretty burnt out on that haha - it does still come and go in cycles lol. Nowadays I probably keep back about 30% of what I draw? Although it can be hard to quantify - if you upload to an audience of zero, is it actually online? Haha ♪ Or an audience of one! Just because it's shared using the internet as a middle man, does that count as "posting"? :0 I don't know! I think it's an interesting question tho!
11. Do you listen to anything while drawing? If so, what
Yes! It really depends on what I'm drawing; my go-tos are always Reddit story readings since I don't have to think too hard about picking one, they last a while, and they keep my auditory brain occupied while my hands and eyes are busy. For a couple days of Requestober, especially the Portal/Stanley Parable days but also the song prompt, I was listening to themed stuff - GLaDOS lines, Narrator lines, the aforementioned song haha. I hate having to stop to pick the next thing! It makes editing my footage harder and throws off my flow :P
30. What piece of yours do you think is underrated
A lot of my Law Abiding Citizen stuff probably - LAC is such a good series!! I wish more people would see it/were still into it. We're few, and I was late to party, but my love still burns! If I had to pick just one thing tho, I think it'd have to go to one of my Just Desserts comics - I cried while drawing it initially, and I still think Charm's transition from her smiling-crying face to her angry-crying face is so well done ♥
#Woah an original post#Ask#Ask me#Thank you! :D I had to think about these! Especially the first and last one!#I've been trying to find a good balance of drawing for myself/allowing myself space to mess up while also being proud of things#It can actually be hard to thread that needle lol - sometimes I'm like ''Well it's alright :/ But this bit is good! But out of context....'#It can be hard to be judicious! I really do want to show off a lot of it but I also want to leave room for myself!#I've been working on an all behind-the-scenes project over the course of October :3c#I'm almost ready to start compiling it! I'm buying myself a bit more time haha ♪#And of the audience of none thing - that behind the scenes project? Technically it's online right now - but on my Patreon lol#Tree falls in a forest and all that haha - it's a secret for as long as anyone else dictates! It's interesting :3#Plus there's also the thing of showing your online friends but not the wider public - where's the line?#How many people have to have seen something for it to count as being ''posted online''?#Even still - I always draw for myself haha ♪ I just also happen to share a lot lol but that's kind of a side effect of being pleased pfft#I have gotten so dry on things to listen to haaaghhh - I know I have a bajillion podcasts at my disposal but my brain is so pickyyyy#It has to be low-stress and not a bummer but interesting but not Too interesting that it becomes Inspiring- pfbtl >:P#I'm actually listening to something right now as well lol - I listen to music when I write and stories when I draw :D#I can't get 'em mixed - brain is picky lol (But really it's because it engages different parts of my brain that need attention)#It was also hard to answer the last one since I still kinda consider myself a fairly small artist haha - I like a lot of my art!#Even my old stuff :D Sometimes even especially my old stuff!#What counts as underrated when a lot of my stuff trends towards being on the quiet side? :0#That said I've been absolutely delighted by the Property of Hate and Portal turnout ahh <3 <3 Makes me happy to see them being enjoyed!!#Anyway sorry for going so long apparently I had Thoughts™ lol
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ceilidho · 15 days
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prompt: simon notices you in the stands (welder/amateur rugby player au). (nsfw, 1.9k)
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She’s in the stands again, and he doesn’t know who for. 
The same bird as the time before, and the week before that. Always a few minutes into the match, like she snuck in through the backdoor. She always leaves in a hurry, up and out of her seat with her jacket already tugged on, her strides quick on her way out the main doors. 
In the years since joining this amateur league, Simon’s never been tempted to talk to any of the people in the stands. For the most part, they’re there for one of the other players anyway. Wives, girlfriends, sisters—the odd cousin or fuck buddy, those girls dipping in and out, replaced by newer, sparklier versions of each other, the older ones licked clean. 
His focus narrows when he steps onto the field anyway, shrinks like horse blinders sunk down over his skull. Hardly a reason for him to spare more than a glance towards the stands.
Rugby’s not a sport for spectators. At least, not such a low level league. Barely amateur—just some of the locals with a bit of built up stress and aggression to work off. It’s why he’s here after all. Simon spends the hours of his day hunched over sheets of metal and carbon steel, sweating into the metal mask pulled down over his face and staring without blinking into the heart of the flame just inches from his face. 
His nerves are a closed fist in his chest and it grows and grows until he steps out onto the field of the local rec centre and hears the timer overhead start to count down and feels someone’s chest cave in when he drives his shoulder into their solar plexus, hears the breath whoosh out of them, their next breath in thin and febrile. 
It sets his head right. Violence with no consequences. At the end of the game, he looks the man he just bruised and bloodied in the eye and shakes his hand. Puts the world to rights. 
And he needs nothing more than that. His bills are paid, bloodthirst sated, thirst quenched when the team hits up a pub after the match, after which he slinks off into the night to head home with his hood drawn over his head, the size of him rarely inviting more violence. Occasionally it happens that someone with the bad luck of choosing him to mug wants to prove that they have the bigger cock, but that never ends well. Not for them at least.
Simon would fight for a living if welding paid him less. As it is, he satiates that beast in him on the field or the occasional back alley, and it keeps him in check.
But now there’s a bird in the stands drawing his eye and distracting him from the match. It rubs him the wrong way. The blood pumps through his veins more viciously, and the pretty thing in the stands watches the game completely unaware, a serene smile on her face. His gaze keeps being pulled towards where she and a couple clusters of fans sit and nurse paper cups of tea.
She cups both hands around her tea and he wonders absently whether she’d have to hold his cock the same way. 
It’s Gaz who calls him out on it first, panting hard after the first period and frowning at the scoreboard. “Not to be a dick, but that was bollocks, Simon. Never seen you miss a pass like that.”
Few people could get away with speaking to him like that, but Gaz is right. He’s been playing like shit, too preoccupied by the bird watching him with wide, rapt eyes. 
He doesn’t know how to apologise though, so he doesn’t. “Graves is a useless twat. Can’t throw for shit.”
Gaz rolls his eyes. “Not saying he isn’t, but you’re distracted. Where’s your head at?”
“Stay out of it, Garrick,” he says, not even bothering to meet his gaze, the warning clear in his voice. 
“Sorry for caring,” Gaz shouts after him as Simon jogs away.
He asks around at first, trying to find out if she’s someone’s relative or girl, but all the guys just shrug, no answers. If she’s someone’s, they aren’t staking a claim on her. It’s good news for him. Bad news for anyone else taking an interest in the girl that comes to their every match to cheer them on.
His urges sit deeper than the abyssal plain.
She’d probably turn tail and run if she knew the hunger festering in his belly. She sits sweet and innocent in the stands cheering him on and all Simon can think about is pushing her knees up to her ears and feeding his fat cock into her pussy. Shoving his tongue into her cunt, licking her from hole to hole. Sucking each puffy lip into his mouth until her moans go garbled, eyes unfocused. 
No, Simon thinks when she jumps to her feet enthusiastically at the end of the match, she probably wouldn’t like that. Women rarely do. Objectifying them and all those other terms that Gaz likes to wax on about, Johnny nodding along like he isn’t the same kind of mutt as Simon. 
Even during the day, she troubles his thoughts. Troublemaker. He thinks of her when he cleans and buffs in between passes, mind not lulled into the rhythmic emptiness of usual. Even the sound of steel sizzling in his ears doesn’t clear her from his thoughts. Instead all he can think of is her walking into the shop in a little skirt and top, and dragging her to the back where he’d bend her over the closest desk and pull her panties to the side before sinking in to the hilt, mask still on. 
He’s never gotten his cock wet on the job—never been tempted to. For her though, he’d make an exception. 
By the next match, Simon’s made up his mind. When he sees her sneak in after the match has already started, he feels his blood pump harder, his tackles extra rough. His opponents walk away wincing and cursing him under their breath, but it only makes him preen when he glances over to find her watching him, hardly able to pull her eyes away. Price would call it peacocking. He wouldn’t be wrong. 
He approaches her himself at the end of the match before she’s had time to pack up and leave, leaning over the railing separating the field from the stands, covered in sweat and grass stains and bleeding from his right eyebrow.
She stares up at him wide eyed, looking a little lost for words. “Hi?”
“Got somewhere to be?” he asks, blunt. He’s never had it in him for pleasantries. Why waste time when he can see even now the way her eyes rove over his chest appreciatively? 
“…No,” she finally answers, shaking her head. “Just home for supper.”
“Look like you could use a good fuck. Come round back with me?”
The blatant proposition makes her eyes widen, but Simon doesn’t see the problem. Figures if she doesn’t have a man, there’s no issue with him trying out for the part. He waits her out though, vaguely admiring the pert shape of her mouth, lips round with shock. 
Finally they come back together and she chews on her lower lip nervously, caught off-guard but considering it. He doesn’t hold it against her. His bird’s pretty enough, but he doubts she ever puts herself in the position to be asked. He sees the yes in her eyes before she says it.
Still, he enjoys the way she stutters it out softly, eyes downcast. Simon doesn’t bother with his goodbyes to the guys still on the field before ushering her out of the arena and down the hall to the locker rooms with a hand on her back. He drags her into the first empty supply closet he finds, locking the door behind them. She breathes a bit heavily, almost stumbling over her feet, and that’s the eagerness he’s been looking for. Proof his bird’s just as hungry as him. 
She definitely is, Simon thinks, smug when he hoists her up and her legs wrap around his waist without a second thought, her eyes already glazed over. Like she’s been waiting for this for weeks, cunt already sopping wet when he nudges her panties to the side with his knuckles and buries his cock into her. She grips him like a vice, slack jawed and whimpering into the stretch. He likes that. He likes it more when she digs her nails deep into his back, leaving her mark behind. 
“C’mon, don’t get shy on me,” Simon huffs into her neck when she tries to grab his hair instead, what little of it she can. He stares with eyes half-lidded at the way her tits bounce with each thrust. “I like it rough.”
She clenches up at that, dripping wet. Almost a shame that he couldn’t get his mouth on her first. He’ll have to follow her back home like the mongrel he is, mess her pretty bedsheets up and make her scream until she can’t even face the neighbours the next day. 
He doesn’t need her to tell him to know that she’s a good girl, doesn’t do this ever. Only for him. He can tell by how tight of a screw she is, practically purring in his arms; it’s a fight to bully his cock into her. It’s nice when she stutters it out though, strokes his ego the right way. 
“D-didn’t think you’d notice me,” she says, all shy even with her legs spread. 
“Hard not to, pet,” Simon teases, endeared by her soft edges. His slot right in, if not a bit jaggedly. “Been panting after it for a while, haven’t ya?”
“I just wanted to get out of the flat for a bit,” she whispers.
That shifts his perception of her a bit. Infinitesimally so, but still. He didn’t expect the bird to have a lonely flame in her heart. 
“Well, I noticed,” he grunts, and then bends to suck at the salty skin at the crook of her neck before pumping a load into her.
She’s a real good girl. Comes nice on his cock and muffles her whine by biting into his shoulder. He can’t wait until he’s covered in her bites, until his nipples hurt from making her chew on them and his neck is littered with hickeys like a schoolboy. 
Taking her home is easy enough after that. She lets him drive them both back to her place, handing him the keys with a little yawn when he tucks her into the passenger seat of her own car all limp and pliant. 
And he’s right, of course. He makes a right mess of her bed come morning. 
When he leaves after a morning fuck in the shower and breakfast, the cold sinks into his stomach like a lead weight. The fist in his chest is clenched as ever; Simon hadn’t noticed it loosen in the bird’s presence, but he feels it now drawn tight again. Maybe he thought fucking her would finally shake her from his head, but instead it’s made it worse somehow. The lonely flame in his own chest flickers.
He stands in the middle of the sidewalk and thinks it over while angry nine-to-fivers snap at him before really taking him in and scurrying along. Then he turns back around, heading back the way he came.
The next time Simon sees her in the stands, he feels his smile like a phantom limb. He doesn’t have to ask to know she’s there for him.
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birdantlers · 8 months
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A heartfelt and grievously expanded-upon update to this—please, please read the whole thing if you can. reblogs much appreciated.
(DISCLAIMER, for all who are saying reasons like abusive parents/legal stuff/toxic ex/triggering memories/page got deleted/job/stalkers/bullying/[[insert any other shitty life thing]], This is not concerning that—personal safety & health ALWAYS comes first, and is worth more than any media ever could be. This is my biggest reason for defending that autonomy. I would be a hypocrite to say I hadn’t deleted triggering posts of mine or ones that got me in trouble with my family.)
it genuinely makes me sad and kinda upset when someone purges all their old art off the internet like. barring harmful content what if someone liked that. What if someone would have. And now nobody will ever know and it's just gone. even people's old invader zim askblogs or whatever getting deleted feels like a micro alexandria to me and that's just something I made up. I wasn't even thinking of a specific one it just stresses me out. Is this the autism I don't get why nobody else seems to freak internally abt it like I do. I see artists whose blogs I've never even looked at go like "man so glad I deleted all my old stuff it's so clean" or saying they throw out art from when they were kids I'm like. how are you not hurling. How is that not distressing that is literally your tree rings why would you do that. I want to see what's out there. people want to see it I promise someone out there likes it
...don't they??? Does everyone get quietly irrationally upset by this as me, or is this just hyperfixation/autism/some amalgam of the two. I'm not a hoarder or obsessive compulsive or anything like that so i wonder..
Anyways. reblog if you had a favorite amateur youtube animator in your childhood whose channel got nuked without a trace one day that you still think about.
I wanted to attach this video because it condenses my point very well. A TLDR of sorts. Please watch the whole thing, it genuinely changed the entire way I think about art as a concept.
(2nd vid is "Subjectivity in Art")
“The moment your art touches an audience, the ownership shifts in an irreversible way. [They're] not having an art experience with you and your intentions. They're having an art experience with the art object.
“You can't just burn your past; it's not even your past to burn anymore. It's other people's history as well. Whether or not you like it, that art is already bonded to somebody's soul, and if you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it.”
The digital age makes it very easy to distance or detach yourself from the impact your work has—be it art, fanfic, videos, even memes. Online content is as important to people now as any other media, if not more. But it's also by far the easiest, fastest, and most effective form of it to erase from public access. Media so unbelievably important to people and in general. Yes, you—with the 2010s purple sparkle dog speedpaint. I still think about that speedpaint all the time, because it was the first time i learned that you could draw on a computer, and I thought it was cool as hell. I still do.
I do wish there was a stronger culture of preservation and consideration for this, because every time I see people talk about snuffing their stuff because it doesn't personally resonate with them anymore, I just think ...what about all the people it did?
I've seen lots of people saying "get over it, it doesn't even matter," but it fucking does. It does matter. Even if I didn’t make it, even if I don’t have to deal with being the one who made it, even if I'm naturally inclined to be distressed by it—It still matters. And there’s nothing you could ever say to suddenly make it not matter, because there’s nothing you could ever say to make it not matter to me.
Don't devalue the act of creation. Don't dismiss something you made. It's out there, in people's thoughts and hearts and souls, and that is real. Even if you don't know it. Especially if you don't know it. Especially in a world where physical media is being snuffed out, the internet is constantly dying without any physical remains to recover, social isolation is rampant, and simply because independently produced content online is still media.
Fanfiction can hold equal or greater significance to someone as a book, but you can’t unpublish a book. Authors don’t have a button that can vaporize every copy of their work across all time, but fanfiction authors do. I’m not counting people who download fics either—when you buy a book, that transaction is over. But online, you have the power of unending transaction that can be terminated instantly at your will. The process of publishing fanfic vs. publishing a book may be different, but people’s connection to the art is the same intensity.
So yeah. I do get depressed about the Internet being a constant Alexandria, but the times I get the most depressed is when I click someone's page and see that all their work is gone because they're ‘curating a new aesthetic’ for their page or some shit. Or weeding out all the "ugly" art. Or just went on whatever the hell 'thrill deleting' is, because they just get a kick out of it.
Fuck it—yeah! It upsets me! I’m not wrong to say that. I’m saying it!
Under the cut, because it got long as shit! Also don’t worry the ending is way sappier and more ‘beauty of human nature’ vibe so it’s not all doom and gloom lol
What if that was someone's favorite art of that character. What if someone read that 'cringe oneshot' on the worst day of their life. What if that Warriors meme vid is still burned into a college student’s mind despite being gone for 10 years. What if it's actually not just you and the ones and zeros you rent out to the world—secure in knowing the original will always be on your computer for you to do whatever you want with it.
I really, deeply wish there was more of a general awareness of this, because even though social media can be used like a diary, that’s functionally the opposite of what it is. It’s social media. When you post, it’s no longer in a vacuum, even though you can’t see the real humans that content touches—often deeply.
Media is history. You shouldn’t burn that history just because you personally believe it isn’t worth saving.
Because it’s no longer just your personal opinion. It’s no longer just your personal work. it’s. history. Memory of media is not a suitable replacement for the media itself. If it was, we wouldn’t save anything at all. Nostalgia is an agent of that. The definition of nostalgia is grief for moments of the past that are inaccessible, and the biggest balm for that pain is accessing a physical reminder of those moments. That opinion of yours is no longer personal. It’s weighed against uncountable people across all time that your thing is ALSO personal to. People who would, and will mourn its absence.
How many times have you joined an older fandom only to discover that some of its most popular works are gone? How many times have you routed through random blogs looking for scraps people hopefully reblogged? how many times have you used Wayback machine desperately praying that a fan fiction or a YouTube video will be there? How many times do you look up crunchy old vines or YouTube videos or anime AMV‘s? How many times do you remember old fanfic.net sex that impacted you in middle school, only to shake your head and go ‘probably no point even looking.’
i mourn the absence. No, people can’t and shouldn’t have their agency over what they post revoked, but they should be conscious of that weight. If you’re reading this and getting extremely annoyed, and you’re not in the pink text above,,,, good.
I honestly do hope it gets under your skin. I hope it sits with you. I hope you feel it every time you hit that button, and whether or not you do hit that button—if you hesitate, if you remember this, even spitefully, I’ve done my job. I am howling into the void. And I may not want an answer, but I do want my anguish to be heard and remembered. Because it isn’t me just being melodramatic.
I know I sound that way writing so much, but if my favorite writing YouTuber can drop trow this week and go, "yeah, sorry, all my video essays from less than a year ago that you listen to in the car all the time? I'm "rebranding" my content so i deleted them. besides, my personal views don't really agree align with the analyses i did, or the techniques i taught in them anyway. Sorry if some of the literal tens of thousands of you used them, but I don't want to feel shackled to having youtuber "classics" tied to me”
….then i guess I'm just going to have to sound dramatic! That fucking sucks! Hours of work and knowledge gone! This was a new channel too. It’s very likely there’s no archive of any kind, because who would think someone who worked hard enough to write, record, and edit hour-long videos, would just turn around and nuke it all? I definitely didn’t see it coming, but I did just start a new screenwriting class a few weeks ago, so I’ll tell you at least one person is REALLY missing those fucking videos right now. Because a lot of them were about specifically screenwriting, which I know jack shit about. and that specific person’s pace, editing, and style of breaking down information was the best suited style I found that I could focus on and absorb. There’s no replacement for that. No alternative for his individual perspective. his jokes. his opinions.
No, they may not resonate with him now, but in this decision, he’s put up a big middle finger to everyone who might have. And he has like 100k subscribers! Those are confirmed supporters! Imagine how many silent and untethered observers are feeling this loss right now. Imagine how many will not have it in the future.
If he never posted them at all, we wouldn’t know we had it. It wouldn’t be a loss. But we did. We did have it. Until he decided that no, we didn’t, because he just happens to be the one out of millions of individuals holding the button to burn it in a hundredth of a second.
His personal work, the attachment I had to it, and the ways that it helped me are now just ripped away. I am one person out of millions, literal MILLIONS of people who saw and liked this content before it vanished. The soul has been ripped, the access severed, and by CJ’s (and my) definition, the art is functionally dead. Not for the YouTuber or anyone else lucky enough to save a link or download, but everyone else. From this point until the end of time, even if people even two weeks from now don’t know it. Even if someone who stumbles upon his channel today, doesn’t know it.
We only mourn the concept of Alexandria because we had some kind of scope for what was inside. Yes, maybe you got self-conscious and deleted your 12 year old deviant art account. Do you know who else is doing that?? THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS of other twenty somethings who ALSO feel self-conscious about their old socials. Art. Fanfic. One direction fan videos. anything.
Suddenly, an unquantifiable amount of information from your age group—an entire age group in 2012, is. gone. And we will NEVER know what’s been erased from that history. We will NEVER know what could have been significant to us ten years from now. Twenty years from now. A hundred years. A thousand.
You could have deleted a fanfic that would have been someone else’s new go-to panic attack distraction tomorrow. You could have deleted a video someone used to laugh at with their friend who died yesterday. When you delete something, you risk tearing a hole in unknowable personal histories.
The Internet isn’t just a big library of Alexandria. It’s a library containing libraries. And those libraries have their own libraries in those libraries have their own as well. libraries inside libraries, inside libraries, ad infinitum. To conceive the amount of destroyed history on the Internet is crushing.
And I just can’t help but I ask myself how in gods name people can choose to contribute to that, instead of reposting everything to trash heap alts titled “hall of shame” or some shit.
You can offload to alts. Put up disclaimers. Make password locked blogs, or dropboxes, or anonymous imgur dumps. Anonymous reuploads. Orphan fics. Make a playlist or linktree of unlisted videos. Cut off the watermarks. Delete all references to it on your main. Make a dedicated unlisted playlist. make a google drive. Make new portfolio sites. Delete any questions you get about it. Change pen names. Pretend it never existed.
Give a heads up.
Something.
But don’t. kill. the media.
The knowledge that our stuff is going to forever be tied to us is a cross we have to bear, but the responsibility that comes with putting it out there in the first place, can’t be ignored.
Anyway. I'm not trying to start conflict. This is not a bash on anyone, nor a call for witch hunts. Or anon hate, or blocks and unfollows or anything of that nature. I'm not wishing ramifications or hate of any kind on anyone who does wants to do any of this.
I'm also not guilt tripping— I am not saying that you should feel bad. I AM saying why it makes me feel bad. That’s not guilting, it’s a dialogue. One I personally feel is long overdue.
It's me yelling into the void: please consider the real people on the other side of the screen before you hit that button. Realize and know that whatever you're about to erase from history could be the most important thing in the world to someone.
Art is an experience. It's why we revisit it. If art and history simply lived in the matter and code of media, we would only need to look at it once. We wouldn’t put things in museums. We wouldn’t build libraries. We wouldn’t look up vine compilations.
If you're able, consider (and I do mean consider, this is not a call to action) not destroying that. And don’t shrug it off as some pretentious asshole venting on Tumblr. You only need to look in the notes and tags to see that it isn’t just me. it’s never just me, or you, or the pixels.
And even if you do shrug it off, then at least recognize that what you make matters. Whatever you think about it, if it’s out there, that's not your discretion anymore. If a tree falls in the woods and even one person is around to see it, it fucking mattered. Because it happened. Don’t mulch your tree rings if you don’t have to. Because if enough people do it, a whole forest is gone. Media is history, no matter whether you think it’s worth putting in a museum, or only has 30 notes.
Thousands of years ago, a child named onfim doodled on his homework. They’re crude, and everyone has the wrong amount of fingers, and they’re also priceless archaeological artifacts recognizable throughout the world.
the only thing separating Onfim’s doodles and your MS paint Pokémon doodles is time. The only thing separating your old MS paint Pokémon doodles from being a priceless artifacts, thousands of years in the future is time. Your creations are already priceless artifacts. No matter what you do, don't ever, ever deny that. It isn’t blowing up your own ass, it’s artistic and anthropological fact.
The mundane and the supposedly unworthy are often the first things lost to time, and that’s why they’re so precious. That’s why artists who were before their time are scorned first only to be celebrated later. Do you think they knew that was going to happen?? What if they nuked it? Many probably did! But now that’s happening exponentially and instantaneously everywhere, WITHOUT the artist having to destroy their only copy—which makes it way easier and more dismissable.
Sometimes, If you’re revolutionary enough, people will make an effort to preserve your work, but recognized and thoroughly recorded work is rare compared to unrecognized and thoroughly recorded work.
Sometimes something is beloved enough that it would be impossible for it not to go down in history, but even then it isnt a guarantee, and it’s rare. But if van Gogh burned all of his paintings in a fit of despair before his death, we would have no van Gogh. Because he wasn’t respected as an artist in his time, but that wasn’t what defined the worth of his art. The people after him did, because his art was still there for them.
If you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it. If you belittle your art, you belittle the very real relationships and emotions and revisitations people have with the media. You defy the inherent worth and weight of a creation. you created. That's effort. It's passion. No matter how flippant or unskilled or worthless you think it is, it matters. Because at the end of the day, you could have chosen to make nothing at all, and you didn't.
Muting notifs
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matamisin · 1 year
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*sad beat-boxing*
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runningwithscizzorz · 15 days
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(1)Learn the rules before you break them + Gather proper references
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(2) Understand what you want to break and how
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(3) Can't do it? Find someone who can
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(4) It's going to look really bad for a while
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(5) Have fun with it!
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(1) -Yes, I am that kind of artist. Yet, not in the conventional way. I encourage people to go in guns blazing when it comes to drawing something new, then coming out analyzing what they know, and what they need to learn more of right away.
-Here, I broke down the anatomical pieces of Nour and Narinder's face with the same labels so you guys can understand this weird invisible pattern that I follow in my work. Doing this with any animal you're attempting to draw greatly improves your line confidence when drawing different face shapes. Also understanding the biological function for why animals look a certain way helps you keep consistency.
(3) Time to throw any artistic guilt you have for heavily referencing people's art OUT THE WINDOW and start ANALYZING PEOPLE'S WORK YOU WANT TO BE LIKE✨ I've always done this, having a reference of someone else's amazing work right next to my own drawing so I can try and understand how they make their magic work! No shame, no embarrassment, nada. Pure, unadulterated will and spite that I would be just as good as the artist who made me so motivated and happy with their work! I couldn't figure out how to make Nour's face both sheep-like, and humanly expressive, so I looked at a LOT of Zootopia and old Disney art for help!
(2) With how I draw narilamb, I'm still working on it (as you can see) but I wanted to break Narinder's face to be fluffier and slimmer, while Nour's face would be shorter and flatter. If you look at it for too long, it's absolutely going to look weird, in the way that if you look at Anna from Frozen for too long she starts looking really weird. The anatomy isn't meant to be correct or consistent, it's meant to convey the emotion and energy I want out of the characters in that moment. If you're able to properly get that across, then you don't need to think about how broken something looks, as long as your eye is happy enough to trick your brain into thinking what you're seeing is canny.
(4) Yeah, I hate this part too. It's going to look like shit at first. I can't even look at my art from a few months ago when I was figuring out their designs... God, so fucking ugly. If it weren't for the shittiness of those drawings, I would have never gotten here! Wading through the "trust the process" stage always really sucks, but it's absolutely worth the relief of when you finally get something to look right.
(5) Art is work, yes. It's stressful, it's long, it's straining, its draining, it's exclaiming, blah blah blah. But, I try to keep my art FUN. If I find my artwork becoming slow as I depressingly drag my pen over my tablet, I'm failing. You MUST keep spirit and life in your work. The spirit of emptiness or the life of sadness can have a very meaningful place in art, but those can only exist with keeping work light, easy, and fun! If you're stressing how a specific thing looks or how you can't get something to look right no matter what, FUCK IT. Draw something to bring the flavor back in your work! I'm kind of rambling, but just, HAVE FUN!✨️ Be messy, scream, laugh, slash canvases, throw paint, smash sculptures, tear apart books, GO CRAZY
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anantaru · 1 month
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EX BOYFRIEND LYNEY
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— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — ex! boyfriend lyney headcanons
— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, a lil possessive lyney, friends with benefits, rough, experienced lyney
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ex boyfriend lyney moves in a way that you cannot possibly get an eyeful of, no hint of what he's planning, no inkling of why he did it— his precise yet persistent methods to win you over again aren't for one to notice, in fact, he doesn't lose his frame of mind during the entire process of your break-up, his aura and certain outbursts are ultimately swallowed down by him so you cannot see them.
the man was keeping his emotions in check in an almost frightening fashion that in recollection, it scares you. one might even go as far and assume that it was for the sake of you, or himself, to suppress his negative feelings in order to make the environment easier for the both of you.
ex boyfriend lyney remains silent for a good while after your break-up, he doesn't reach out to you often but it's because he believes you will take time to get used to being without him again. on the contrary, it gave him the perfect gateway of carefully planning each step out— not unexpectedly, of course, it's important to note that he wouldn't force you to stay with him because he deeply cares about your happiness.
you really want to break up? well, if that's what your heart desires, lyney wouldn't want to stand in your way— instead, he'd make it his most important task to remain friends with you, in order to win you over once more. what most people told you is that “once a book is finished, you cannot reread and take parts out of it, just because you didn't like it or want to change the narrative” it's over, ancient history, printed out on paper.
almost comical, ex boyfriend lyney thinks— after all, he was a magician and utterly skilled in his craft. he could pull it off, right?
before you know it, he will demonstrate the love he harbors for you in a blink of an eye, that passion that was too dark for dim eyes to discover currently— yet one day, he promises you, that he'll draw a veil over all deeds passed and walk you through a new beginning.
ex boyfriend lyney cannot imagine a life without you, it is out of the question because he sees you as family, a part of him, he wants and needs to protect you even after your break up. such strong amibition of shielding his significant other (or now ex), specifically wanting to protect them might stem from him being a big brother and always looking after his siblings.
in the act of love, no other individual could make him feel like you did— it's as if magic pulled at his heartstrings when he sees you, or when you smile at you.
his chest pumps with affection when you're here. he's so eager to show you again, wanting to reproduce memories of the past, back when love was him and you.
ex boyfriend lyney supports you, always, and he does it flawlessly when he fuels your needs, his smoldering gaze always here to help and burning into your body, sending shivers down your spine. there was a problem you faced? do not be scared, because ironically enough, lyney always seems to be there for you, at the right time, the right place and with the right words hand in hand to say.
ex boyfriend lyney will always be there when you need him, and in conjuction, he'll be the answer to all of your hardships, as if he somehow knew why they were happening in the first place. you can count on him always, no? with one voice and the beat of his heart, he's there to look after you while inching closer, giving your cheek a good squeeze before calling your stressed-out expression cute.
ex boyfriend lyney can immediately notice how different you were a couple weeks well into the break-up, but he also likes how you're still getting shy when his attention is solely fixated on you again, like your previous defenses have never drawn life in the first place— it's a pain, a taxing one at that when you realize that you still like him, despite the fact that you promised yourself to detach from any further interactions you and lyney could have in the future, yet proceeding to go against your better judgement.
but after a while, ex boyfriend lyney and you couldn't resist the temptations anymore as you're first agreeing to be friends with benefits for a while— only until one of you finds a serious match again, or another person that was able to outshine any of you, when in reality none of you had even considered dating again.
needless to say, it felt good, like every small movement of him was ten times stronger when he presses himself into you, when he rubs warmly over the throbbing spots only he knew were to find, "you're always so pretty.." he drawls out as your stomach flips at his drunken thoughts becoming real words, angelic tones you could hear.
ex boyfriend lyney makes you take every long breath a lot more meaningful, you felt as if you were breathing in the fumes of a volcano as it captured you in a smoldering haze— taking into account how the bedroom was slowly developing into something humid, heavy, and hot.
ex boyfriend lyney lets you succumb to it fully, and there was so much pressure on your cunt that your back was arching up into his body, your figure held by two hands slipped underneath, the almost agony-like sensation of fullness bristling on your sex as lyney moves and explores further into the realm of your beautiful body.
ex boyfriend lyney knows all of your kinks, or the certain spots you liked being stimulated, the very places you only hoped he'd do whenever he's got you split in half. you definitely notice his self assurance too, it's a bit stronger than last time— how he cannot possibly hold back a ravishing smirk when you're this easy to please.
there's no confusion in his face either, nor was he unfocused, only a dark lust was painted behind his eyes.
ex boyfriend lyney pulls one hand from your hip to your cheek before slanting your head down in order for you to witness the mess he's made in between your thighs.
your hips were pressing up off of the mattress in order to taste more of him, the lustful hankering mounting in your veins as your mouth turns dry as desert bones when your moans increase in length. a just released greed develops from your desperate yearning, it expands in your stomach and multiplies the more lyney pleasured you, the faster he flicks his length over your walls and smears his pre in waves on your wet sex.
"lyney..." you drawl out in an angelic tone that immediately made his heart flutter, "I n-need more," you say, smirking, your hand slowly wafting to your breasts before you're squeezing one of them, twinging at your nipple next. this was on purpose— because you knew how much he liked it whenever you put on a show for him.
so you continue, without a hurry, going with the flow and moving gently between the valley of your breasts until sliding past your lower stomach that was currently feeling full to the brim. yet your hand doesn't stop yet, only halting right above your clit when decent on it.
"I can't... you're so, fuck," his voice cracks, a moan sliding up through his throat. he's done for, you got him now.
ex boyfriend lyney shakes from the warm greeting of your walls sucking him tight, salivating at the sight of your poor pussy squelching clamorously. the magician missed you so much that he didn't want to conceal the burly emotions of his mind from you anymore— in truth, lyney was pathetic, truly without shame.
he shamelessly whimpers into your mouth before lapping at your bottom lip, biting it, sucking and toying with your tongue. he's whining, on the verge of crying due to pleasure, his eyes closed and hips rutting into your heat as the tips of his ears slowly turn pink.
ex boyfriend lyney moans out your name when you lock your legs around his hips, the rough squeezes of your pussy tightening as your body began to ready itself, the pleasure of your climax coming through you in a formidable wave of bliss as the both of you came at the same time, feeling like all the relief in the world settled in your stomach as your arousal glazes all over his shaft.
ex boyfriend lyney lets out a deep, muffled groan as you shake underneath his body. he collapses shortly after on top of you— yet it's all too much for you to keep up with. possible regrets? well, probably, but you're way too dizzy and fucked out of your mind to even force yourself to think about it.
what's there to know for you was that ex boyfriend lyney still loves you more than anything— and if being in this kind of "special relationship" was the best possible outcome for now, so be it.
on the grounds that sooner or later, he will get you back again.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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margotw10bis · 5 months
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Champagne Confetti. JJK [m]
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boyfriend!Jungkook x camgirl!reader
Genre: smut (basically a porn with a plot)
Words: 6.1k
Synopsis: Your boyfriend loves watching you on live but his whole mood changes when he reads one specific comment from one of your fans
Warnings (be ready): live sex; rough sex; face ridding; squirting (olympics waterfall y'all); multiple orgasms (idk how oc is still alive)
Jungkook is enjoying the show. How can he not when his girlfriend has her legs wide open and enters her dripping pussy with two fingers. The pleasure makes you loudly moan and your eyes roll back. You smile brightly, looking straight with lustful eyes. You are definitely hot right now, you know it. And if you didn't, the hundred of comments in the chat would inform you.
Someone is complimenting the pink leds' reflection on your skin, another one wishes you could use the dildo you've showed a few days ago, and a new comment praises you for being 'a sweet good girl'. You smile instantly at it because you know damn well that it comes from your boyfriend. To please him, you enhance the pace of your digits entering you and pinch your hard nipple just like he likes. You're one second away from moaning his name but you know you can't, so you settle for:
"I'm playing with my little pussy just for you"
Even if Jungkook is in his couch, a few miles away from your place, he gets that you are talking to him and his hard cock twitches in his pants. He is mindlessly caressing himself through his sweatpants. You've told him a hundred of times that he could stay at your place when you work but he has declined every single time. Your boyfriend knows he doesn't have the strength to hear you pleasuring yourself a few feet away without storming in and fucking you rough. You wouldn't mind but, after a long conversation with him, you have learnt that he doesn't want to appear on camera. And you totally get it, even though you would love him to fuck you on camera.
You know that your job is not a common one and that some people are very judgmental. However, you love sex and you get paid for it. You turn on your camera, use your fingers or toys to make you cum and that's it. You know that you also please other people, so what's wrong with that? And one of the things you love the most about Jungkook is that he has never judged you. He loves you just the way you are, with all the things that come with you — including your cam girl occupation.
When you turn on your vibrator, a beautiful toy in a baby blue color, you think about Jungkook — especially since he is the one who gave it to you. You place it on your sensitive clit and your groans get louder. You are very close to cum and you know that the way you get choked up by pleasure is enjoyed by your audience because the cash is flowing.
Your boyfriend smirks from the other side of the screen. You are so fucking beautiful when your face is torn by pleasure. He absolutely loves seeing your juices dripping down your ass and land on your bed, drawing a wet spot on it. It's so fucking hot. Jungkook loves how your head rolls back when you are close to cum. But that's also why you don't see the comment that makes Jungkook's heart stop: 'I can fuck you better than your loser of a boyfriend'.
———
"Baby, what's wrong?"
Your worry is well noticeable on your face. Jungkook, despite being as sweet as ever, has grown a little... distant. At first, you thought you were imagining things but now you have no doubt. During your usual movie date at your place — you have a much bigger screen than Jungkook —, you were trying to switch your cuddling into something... else. But Jungkook has stopped your hands from reaching his crotch area. You wouldn't be surprised if he didn't want sex because men don't always want sex. But he doesn't even let you touch him and that has never happened during the eight months you have been together.
You are feeling stressed and sad. Did you do something wrong? Or is he leaving you like your exes because, despite Jungkook saying he is okay with your job, he might not be at the end of the day?
"Is it me?" You lowly ask, pain and unsureness in your voice
Jungkook's head immediately snaps toward you and he cups your face. He doesn't want you to be hurt just because his little ego has been bruised. It's not your fault, not at all.
"No, of course not!" He exclaims and it soothes your heart a little
"Then, tell me"
Jungkook sighs. Is it even worth saying? It's so stupid. Your boyfriend shouldn't feel threatened by a stranger on the Internet but he can't help it.
"I... There was a comment on your chat the other day" He starts and you tilt your head out of curiosity "It said that they could fuck you better than me"
You bust into laugh but quickly stop when you see no sign of humour in your boyfriend's dark eyes.
"They just talk, they feel brave behind a screen. I'm sure the guy wouldn't even make me cum. Baby, you know it's not true" You argue and settle a gentle kiss on his cheek
"No, I don't" Jungkook replies with a harsh and hurt tone, his jaws clenched
You're taken aback. You stay silent for a minute, wondering how could you make Jungkook understand that he is the best sex you've ever had. But there is not a hundred solutions. You tell him to wait until you call him.
You go to your bedroom, light up your pink leds, change your clothes for Jungkook's favorite underwear — a matching black lacy bra and thong — and prep everything for him. When everything is neat, you sit on your bed covered with pink silk sheets and call him.
Surprise is painting his face. He gulps when he notices how powerful and sexy you look right now. You pat the spot next to you on the bed to urge your boyfriend to sit, which he does. You immediately capture his lips with yours.
The kiss gets heated. You lick his rings in the corner of his lower lip and then slide your tongue into his mouth. You are quick to change position to sit on his lap and deepen the kiss. You have always loved how his tongue felt soft against you.
You grab his hands to place them on your ass and you smirk when they squeeze it. It's just a reflex, Jungkook can't control it. Neither can he control his hardening dick. You grind on it, pressing your already wet pussy against the bulge forming on his black sweatpants and rolling your hips at a sensual pace. You rest a hand on his large shoulder while the other one tugs on his black locks.
"Babe—" Jungkook tries to argue but you prevent him from talking with a bite on his lower lip, making it swollen and red
You grab the hem of his t-shirt and lift it up until you can take it off from your boyfriend's hot body. You glance at his brawny torso and run your index on the ink darkening his arm. You have always loved the tattoo on his shoulder. Your hand reaches up again to caress it before going South to his abs. You smile when you notice that your caresses cut Jungkook's breathe.
You attack his throat with your lips, settling wet kisses and bitting his thin skin. You suck on it to mark him because the purple hickeys always look so good on him. You know that you just have to tease him a little more for Jungkook to go wild, that's why you poke out your tongue and take a fat lap from his collarbone to his ear. You gently bite the lobe between two earrings and whisper :
"I want you to fuck me so hard I won't be able to walk tomorrow"
The low growl coming from Jungkook makes you shiver with horniness and you know you're going to get what you wanted. You instantly feel him spanking harshly the soft flesh of your asscheeks. You moan at the burn but you don't have time to appreciate it because Jungkook lands another slap on your left cheek. It tickles so fucking good that you have to bite on his neck to prevent a long scream of pleasure. Your pussy is so, so wet that it's staining your boyfriend's pants.
He digs his fingers so deep into the flesh of your ass that his knuckles turn white and that it'll leave bruises on your flesh. He uses his grip to spread your asscheeks and gets a full view on your two glistening holes in the mirror placed in front of your bed. Even with the dimmed light, he clearly sees how your arousal is smeared all over your cunt.
"You messy girl. Do you see how dirty you are?" He lowly growls
He doesn't wait for an answer and slaps your — already red and abused — ass. The sound of the spank echoes in your bedroom, the same way it's followed by your choked moan. How can Jungkook doubt about how good he makes you feel?
You sneak a hand on your back to undo your bra and offer a great view on your tits. You press your breasts against Jungkook's face and you feel the vibration more than you hear his moan. He leaves messy kisses everywhere on your boobs, sucking the flesh from time to time. Your head rolls back and you arch your back when he captures a hard nipple between his teeth. He is chewing on it and a pool of arousal leaks from your clenching pussy. He then roughly sucks on it, just like he would do if he wanted to suckle on a bottle.
One of his hand appears to grab your other tit, slightly slapping it too. The air gets kicked off your lungs when Jungkook suddenly bites the nipple he had in his mouth, provoking a loud whine from you. The pain mix with pleasure when he rolls his tongue around it to soothe you.
You push him on the bed so he rests his back on your mellow mattress and swiftly place your knees on both sides of his handsome face. You give him a last smile before you sit down on his face.
You feel his tongue pressing against your covered clit and you can't help but roll your hips. With a precise movement, Jungkook's inked fingers hook your thong and push it aside so he can directly access your cunt. His tongue slides up and down your slick folds and his nose bumps onto your clit. Your moans are filling your room and you have no choice but to grab your boyfriend's hair to steady yourself. You are glad that he still has long locks and only cut short the sides.
"Fuck, baby, it's so good" You groan but you get choked up when he suddenly suck on your clit "Oh my fucking god!"
Jungkook smirks against your pussy while your juices are leaking down all over his face. He grabs your ass and makes you grind on his face at a fast pace. Your brain gets foggy at the feeling of his expert tongue and nose bumping against your bud of nerves and sliding onto your vulva. You press deeper to feel more, not caring if you're suffocating Jungkook. You are too deep into pleasure to care and you know he has enough strength to push you away if he needs to. His tongue teases your entrance but never gets in, preferring rolling around your clit instead to drive you crazy.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum" You inform him and you get closer when Jungkook digs his fingers deeper into the flesh of your ass
"Make me drink that potion" He teases against your wetness
Your arousal gets the grinding real smooth on your boyfriend's ruined face and it's fucking hot. He even jiggles his head from left to right at a quick pace to reach all the spots of your pussy, filling your bedroom with sloppy and oh so hot sounds, and you explode. You're cumming hard and the spasms of your body have rarely been so strong. You don't even have the strength to keep your upper body up and fall miserably on your bed with a goofy grin.
"Good girl" He praises
With a predator eye, Jungkook pokes his tongue out and licks your juices on his lips. It does little to clean him up because there are traces of your arousal on his chin, cheeks and nose. All his lower face is glistening with your wetness that it's fucking hot. He grabs his former t-shirt that was abandoned on your bed and wipes off his face.
"You're beautiful" You whisper, making Jungkook smile and his eyes get more affectionate
"You are more, baby" He replies and prevents you from arguing by capturing yours lips
You taste your cum on his tongue and moan in the kiss. Your hands work on his pants to push it down, along with his briefs. He is so hard right now that his cock twitches instantly when you grab it. You love how thick he is, he always stretches you well.
"I want to feel you in me" You tell him
Jungkook only replies with a nod and scoots over just the time to completely peel him naked. Your eyes travel through his perfect body, from his shoulders to his strong thighs passing through his abs. However, it's his dick that attracts you the most. You bite your lower lip and open your legs wider for your boyfriend.
You're surprised when two of his digits enter your pussy without warning. Your eyes shut of pleasure and your moans gets unsteady because of the depth and velocity of his fingering. He is shaking your whole body through your poor cunt. You are still very sensitive from your first orgasm and Jungkook is screwing deep and roughly. You can only grab your sheets and your toes curl up when Jungkook curves his fingers to pump on your g-spot.
He goes so harshly on you that you can't think anymore. You are not even aware of your screams and cum in a record time, squirting all over your boyfriend — for his greatest pleasure. You even splash your sheets and his abs.
"You are so dirty" He purrs in your ear but he is the only driving you crazy when he spreads the juices of his soaked hand on his member as he is jerking himself off
You can't believe you have cummed this hard in such a little time. It's not the first time Jungkook makes you squirt but usually it takes way more time and only appears at the end of your fuck when you have already reached your high a couple of times.
"They should see how fucked up you get when you're with me" He cockily says, referring to your viewers "You are such a little slut for me. Do you even cum with other men?"
His question is backed up with a pinch on your nipple.
"You're the only one" You reply in a whine
Your answer satisfies your boyfriend and he bends over to kiss you, way tender now. He takes place between your legs and the mess you've done allows him to enter you in a swift motion, all the way until his balls are pressed against your ass. Your moan is longer as the pleasure is traveling through your entire body. Your walls are so stretched that you wonder how you are not split in half already.
"I should fuck you on live to make this motherfucker shut his fucking mouth" He growls in your ear as he gives you the first dick strokes — deep and slow to enhance the sensuality
"You should, baby" You whisper and your walls clench around his fat cock because the idea is really arousing
As he starts thrusting into you with a quicker pace, you manage to reach his throat and suck hickeys. Jungkook intertwines his fingers with yours with one of his hands while the other one roughly cups your face to give you a messy kiss, full of tongues and saliva. The way Jungkook is rolling his hips allows him to reach all the right spots inside you. Your eyes roll in the back of your head as you groan his name — groan that is immediately swallowed by his mouth. Your arousal is coating his length but you have so much more that it's rolling down his balls.
He fucks you with so much force that your bed cracks but it's a problem for later. You can't think about anything else than him when he kisses the thin skin of your throat, biting it from time to time. Your legs wrap around his tiny waist to keep him close and prevent him from stopping, even through he is not planning to.
Jungkook slightly lifts up so he can see your tits bouncing in rhythm. It's so hot that he fuck you rougher just to enhance the movement and pinch a hard nipple with his fingertips. He is fucking so rawly that sweat is coving his body and is making his black strands of hair stick to his forehead. Sounds of your clapping skins fill your bedroom, creating a beautiful music for his ears, especially with your whined moans. A fun idea lightens up in his head and he wraps a hand around your throat, choking you perfectly. Your poor cunt throbs around him. Why does he have to be so fucking good? He knows you so well.
"Scream how much you love when I fuck you" He teases you but tightens the grip around your neck
It gets hard to breathe, yet along to fulfill his demand.
"Hm? Tell me, baby. I can't hear you" He smirks "Be a good girl and let everyone knows how good I fuck you"
You want to say it desperately but you can't. Only chocked moans escape your lips. But all of a sudden, Jungkook takes off his hand and gives you a particularly rough dick stroke. The oxygen rushing to your brain and the air being kicked out of your lungs make you so high on sex.
"I love it!" You scream "No one can fuck me better"
"Who's whore are you?" He cockily asks
"Yours!" You moan
"Louder" He growls, his hand settling back on your throat but not tightening too much
"I'm your whore!" You whine as you feel your walls clenching around his cock
"Good" He gives you a harsh pounding "Fucking" Another one "Girl" And another one
You love it so much that your smaller hand lands on his to urge him to squeeze your throat. Your boyfriend does it but suddenly pulls off of your throbbing dripping cunt.
"Kook!" You whine but he shhhes you and rolls his fingers hard and fast around your clit
It's so sudden and intense that your breathe gets cut and that you giggle to escape the unbearable pleasure. However, the fist around your neck prevents you from running away from his ministrations. You're wet, soaked even, and Jungkook's fingers can roll smoothly on your bud. It doesn't stop your boyfriend from spitting on it, just to make your cunt messier. Your pussy is clenching around nothing but you're close again. You have asked Jungkook to fuck you rough, and he is giving what you wanted.
His frenetic pace on your clit plays with the border of pain and you can't hold on anymore. You squirm and your body is experiencing spasms from another powerful orgasm. You grab his forearm to stop his abuse on your poor throbbing clit when the overstimulation becomes too much to handle.
"Fuck, baby" Jungkook whispers is awe, amazed by how beautiful you are when you reach cloud nine
You are panting and your brain feels like wax. You need time to recover from the intensity of the three past orgasms. You close your eyes and rest your head on a fluffy pillow.
"I'm not done with you, baby" Jungkook murmurs as he caresses your skin with the tip of his fingers, drawing goosebumps all over your body
"I need a minute" You confess as you are trying to steady your breathing "You fuck me too good"
Your boyfriend chuckles and lands a multitude of pecks on your cheek, your throat, your shoulder, your boobs and pretty much everywhere. However, you are way too much into the bliss of your post-orgasmic state to notice how your boyfriend's pierced lips are traveling South. It's only when his mouth kisses your oversensitive clit that you jolt and squeak.
His vicious tongue pokes out and slyly licks the arousal leaking from your pussy. He looks like a cat licking its milk but you know he is as lethal as a lion. You throw a — what you want to be — death stare but Jungkook smirks because, deep into your eyes, he sees your lust. You can't deny that the sight of Jungkook between your legs is sinful and perfect. But shivers run through your body when his tongue takes another lap of your ruined cunt.
"I need to clean up my little dirty girl" He purrs and swallows a little bit more of your juices "Taste so sweet, baby"
"Fuck" You moan and you instinctively open your legs a little bit wider
Thankfully, Jungkook goes gentle on you — otherwise, you are not sure you would survive.
"You don't know how much I love eating your little juicy pussy" He teases you and an airy laugh escapes your lips
"I do know, you tell me every time you do it" You explain, tenderness noticeable in your voice
Jungkook and you exchange a knowing glance, right before he buries his handsome face in your folds.
"Those guys can comment all they want" He growls against your dripping pussy, slightly nodding his head toward your set up "They'll never know how you taste"
The possessiveness in his raspy voice is arousing. You love when your boyfriend claims you over other men. He is not the jealous kind — he cannot be when you're a cam girl — but he also manages to remind you that you are his in the most perfect way: fucking.
You cup his chin with your hand to force Jungkook to look at you. Seriousness paints your face when you tell him:
"I don't want anyone else than you. Do you understand?"
Jungkook nods and happiness fills up his chest, spurring him to capture your lips — the upper ones this time. You both smile in the kiss but your sneaky hand finds its way to Jungkook's cock. You jerk him off slowly, appreciating his velvety — yet sticky with your juices — skin.
"Get on your knees" He commands against your swollen lips
You get on all fours and arch your back like you know Jungkook loves it and swing your ass from side to side. Your boyfriend gets to see how wet you still are despite his little cleaning. He lands a rough slap on your ass and squeeze your cheeks.
He then wraps his hand at the base of his hard and thick cock and guides it to your entrance. He teases a little, hooking his tip in your hole just to poke it out. He does it a couple of times, hoaxing a begging from you to finally fill you up.
You gasp when he enters you all the way. You can feel him so deep when he fucks you from behind. It's like his fat cock is stretching you even better. Jungkook digs his fingers into the flesh of your asscheeks and spreads them to fully admire how your little cunt takes his dick, coated it with your arousal at the same time.
"Fuck, baby..." He hisses in bliss
His dick strokes are not gentle, making you jolt at each single one of them. You burry your face in your sheets to mitigate as well as you can your loud moans. Drool is leaking from your open mouth and you realize that your boyfriend is fucking you dumb. The thought is so pleasant that you clench around him.
"You pussy is so tight" He growls and he accompanies his words with a spank on your already red and bruised ass
Jungkook goes further in sins when he lifts up his thumb to his mouth to coat it with spit and smudges it on your pucker hole. You gasp and feel a wave of arousal when he pushes his digit into it. Fuck, it's so hot... The intrusion is so fucking good, making your pussy even wetter — it's now just a big pool of your juices. Your walls clench sporadically around him, notifying him how much you love it. It's no secret anyway, Jungkook has already fucked your ass in the past.
You love hearing how his sweaty skin is clapping against yours, and you love feeling your ass getting slapped by his lap at each pounding. Your boyfriend has to hold you tight to prevent you from falling on your bed. Your arousal creates some sticky threads connecting your two bodies, disappearing when he bottoms up and drawing new ones when he pulls off to the tip. Jungkook curses when he looks at it. It's fucking hot...
"You make me do all the work, you little slut" He complains
He halts his movements. You know what he wants but you also know that his order is arousing so you wait for it.
"Come on, fuck yourself on my cock like the good girl you are" He whispers lowly but his cockiness pierces in his voice "Show me how much you want it"
Jungkook feels your walls clenching and it paints a smirk on his lips. He watches you pushing your ass back to swallow his dick and then moving forward to the tip, just to push back again. Your pace is rough and you make sure to harshly hit his pelvis when you take his member deep into you. You look like a maniac, empaling yourself on his thick cock, but you can't think about it because you love it too much. Your cunt is throbbing from the past orgasms and is sensitive from all the poundings and yet, you want more.
Your boyfriend knows you way too well. He sneaks his inked hand in your hair and harshly tugs on it, forcing you to lift up your upper body and rest your back against his brawny chest. Your scalp hurts in the most delicious way and your tits bounce when Jungkook takes control of the thrustings. You look up and smirk when you notice your set up in front on you. This insane, animalistic and perfect fuck all began because of this... You should thank your fans because Jungkook has never fucked you this good.
He buries his face in the crook of your neck and sucks more hickeys on your already redden and purple skin. The hand that was in your hair travels down to wrap your throat while the other one, sly, reaches your clit. You gasp when Jungkook starts circle motions on your bud.
"Oh my god, I'm gonna cum!" You say in a breathe when you feel your cunt clenching
Despite the tightening of your walls, you are so aroused that your juices are dripping down in your inner thighs, making a mess of Jungkook's cock too.
"You are such a good fucking whore for me" He whispers in your ear, biting your lobe too
Your hands try to handle on his strong forearm as your sloppy pussy gets ruined by your boyfriend's poundings and his raw pace. Your eyes roll in the back of your head, your mouth falls open, your cunt throbs and your breathe gets cut off as his expert fingers on your clit drive you closer to the edge. You are so close, you know it and Jungkook knows it too. That's why he fucks you even rougher, earning some whines from you, and bites your neck, marking you in all the possible ways.
You almost passed out when you cum as white dots paints your vision.
"Baby!" You moan, scream or whisper — you can't know
Thankfully, Jungkook firmly holds you against him, otherwise you would be falling miserably on your bed since your forces abandon you at the same time the wave of pleasure washes over you. Your walls throb and your lower stomach contracts as you squirt again, ruining your silk pink sheets and Jungkook's cock. Your whole body is shaken by spasms due to the power of your orgasm. Why does you boyfriend love so much pushing your limits? Because he knows that you love it just as much.
"Such a dirty girl" He purrs in your ear but you barely register it since you are still in the fog "Look at the mess you have made"
To accentuate his words, he lifts up the hand that was on your clit at the level of your face and shakes it. Drops of your cumming fly all around.
"Rain, rain, rain" He laughs lowly, not thrusting anymore but keeping his hard cock deep inside you "You can't fake it"
You want to reply something, like that you would never do it and that Jungkook really does fuck you good, but you have cotton mouth.
"Look at how fucked up you are!" He mocks you "And this motherfucker thinks he can fuck you better?" His low laugh is full of cockiness but it's the truth
His wet fingers caress your lips and you part them out of instinct. Jungkook takes the opportunity to fill your mouth with his digits and watches in awe how well you suck on them. You hum at your taste and appreciate being able to drink something.
"My sweet good girl" He says gentler, kissing your cheek
"Baby, I don't know if I can take it anymore" You confess, turning your head to look at his handsome face
You can spot the affection in his doe eyes.
"Just one last time and I'm gonna fill your little pussy up. I promise"
His words are raw but his tone is soft, just like the kiss he settles on your lips. You nod and his big palm comes up to caress your cheek. It soothes you and allows you a moment of peace before the big finale.
Jungkook circles your frame with his strong arms and falls on his back with you. The surprise makes you squeak and you could laugh if his cock buried in your cunt wasn't making you moan instead.
You dig your feet in the mattress on both sides of his thighs, takes supported on his pecs with your hands and start some ups and downs on his length. His tip is perfectly hitting your g-spot and if Jungkook wasn't helping you to settle a quick pace with his hands on your hips, you know that your legs would crash down because of the pleasure.
It feels so good to have him this deep inside you. Your tits bounce and your moans get lost in your bedroom. Your boyfriend turns his head to the side to get a peak at you fucking yourself on his fat cock in the mirror.
"Fuck, baby, you're so hot" He praises you and you thank him with a squeeze of your cunt
His thumbs caress your skin at the same time. The movement is slight but you manage to feel it. It does some weird tricks in your chest and you quicken your pace. The only problem is that the marathon of orgasms Jungkook's put you through seriously decreases your stamina. It's getting very hard for you to jump on his cock, even though you absolute love the way he is filling you.
"Baby..." You whisper in a breathe "Need you..."
You don't have to finish your sentence because Jungkook understands.
"I got you" He reassures you
He makes you rest your back on his chest, wraps arms under the back of knees to get a full access to your cunt — making you tighter in the process as your thighs are pressed against each other — and firmly plants his feet on your bed. His poundings are so harsh that your head rolls back and no sounds escape your open mouth. You almost faint because of the pleasure provided by his dick strokes in your tight and swollen cunt.
"Fuuuuck" You whine
Tears are gathering at the corners of your eyes. Jungkook is fucking you too good for your own sanity. The way his thrustings are accompanied by loud skin clapping sounds is fucking arousing. Your juices are dripping down your ass to create a mess on your boyfriend's balls.
"Oh my god!" You moan when rough slap hits the side of your ass
Your toes curl and your brain gets foggy: you know you are close. There have been too many orgasms for you to count and you have now no strength to delay them. Jungkook has turned into a fuck-machine, leaving no rest for your poor pussy. You are amazed by his stamina.
"Are you going to tell them who fucks you good?" He purrs
"You fuck me good! So fucking good, baby" You exclaim in a state of euphoria
Your voice is even shaking because of his poundings — that's how much he is ruining you. You sob at his raw dick strokes, you are way more sensitive than usual.
"I'm gonna fuck you on live and everyone will know who's little slut you are. Isn't it that right, baby? Do you want me to ruin you in front of the whole Internet?" He teases you
"Oh, fuck yes!"
"Good girl" He praises, quickly pecking your shoulder
"Kook, I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."
You can't finish your sentence that you explode once again. Only this time, Jungkook enhances his pace which makes you squirt for some long seconds and you wonder if you will ever gonna stop.
"Don't stop!" You urge him while you are sobbing
Your boyfriend swipes your pussy at a rapid pace with his hand to extend your cumming and to make a bigger mess with your juices splashing everywhere. You can't hold back your scream of pleasure. You have never cummed so hard and God knows that you know what you are talking about.
"Champagne confetti" Jungkook laughs when the waterfall ends
"Please, cum" You beg him
The tiredness is noticeable in your voice. You can't take it anymore and his poundings are painful despite the remaining pleasure.
"I'm close, baby, just hold on a little bit more"
Jungkook frees your legs and you rest your feet on his strong thighs helping him to ruin you. His inked hand cups your face and turn it to his. He captures your lips in a messy kiss, swallowing your moans. You are so lost in pleasure that you don't know what is reality anymore. The only thing you are sure about is him.
"Fill me up" You whisper against his pierced lips
You can only feel him nod and, with a last powerful dick stroke, he buries his cock deep inside you and releases his seeds inside you. You sigh in content and Jungkook whispers some soothing compliments. He hugs you tight but you are too tired to do anything.
Your sheets, just like your cunt, are ruined and soaked with your juices. You roll on your side and Jungkook's cock pulling off your pussy causes his white cum to leak. You don't really care anyway.
"Are you okay? Was I too much?" Jungkook worries as he witnesses your exhausted state
"It was good, baby" You reassure him but keep your eyes closed
You sneak against him and hug him as tight as you can with a weak body. You hear his beating heart in his chest as you rest your head on it. You hum, so happy to have him in your life. Your boyfriend kisses the top of your head.
"I have to tell you something" You murmur "Promise you won't be mad"
"I promise"
"Before I called you, I turned on a live... So everyone did see us fucking" You confess, hoping that Jungkook won't feel betrayed or anything
"I know. I saw the red light of your camera"
You lift up your head and witness some playfulness in his eyes. You offer him a bright smile and kiss him passionately. Fuck, you are so lucky to have Jungkook. His hands land on your bruised ass. You scoot over and turn to the camera. You look fucked up — and you are indeed. A smirk paints your lips and you look straight into the camera lens.
"No one can fuck me better than him" You announce and end up the live 
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astrozuya · 5 months
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☆ svt + subtle ways they show their love.
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⊹ . ♡ pairings. svt hip hop unit x gn!reader. fluff. 0.8k wc. warnings: established relationship. ࿐ ♡ ˚ .
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SEUNGCHEOL.
absentmindedly playing with your hands.
it’s no secret that seungcheol loves holding hands with you, but sometimes he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. when he’s talking to someone and you’re standing next to him, he’ll absentmindedly link pinky fingers with you and then eventually just take hold of your whole hand.
he does it often when he’s focused on other stuff, like if you’re watching a movie together. his eyes are fixed on the screen, but he has your hand in his, occasionally playing with your fingers or unconsciously drawing little patterns on your palm and stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.
massages whenever you seem stressed.
it’s like cheol has a sixth sense for when you’re tired or upset. he’ll silently sit by your side or stand behind you and place his hands on your shoulders. he’s great at giving massages, strong fingers knowing exactly how to work the tension out of your skin. he’ll use just enough pressure to make it feel good, all the while carefully gentle— he’d never want to hurt you. once he’s done and you’re sighing contentedly, he’ll hug you, murmuring, “d’you feel better now, baby?"
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MINGYU.
letting you have a bite of food he’s preparing.
mingyu loves cooking for you. it’s one of his love languages, and you’re always the first person to get a taste of whatever he’s making— he adores the sparkle in your eyes when you take a bite of something yummy. plus he’s a sucker for your praise, and can’t help but smile smugly when you compliment his food.
he’ll call you over to the kitchen and feed you some, blowing on it to cool it down. he asks you how it tastes, carefully holding a hand under your chin just in case something drips from the spoon. when you tell him it’s good, the obvious pride on his face makes you laugh and call him cute.
holding hands while walking.
it’s more than wanting other people to know you’re together. mingyu just likes the warmth of your hand in his. whenever you cross a road, he’ll make sure you’re holding hands, and if you’re in a crowded place together he’ll keep a firm grip on your fingers so you don’t get separated from him.
his favorite thing is taking walks in the park together, holding your hand in his and swinging them together as you walk. his natural body temperature is hotter than yours too, so if you say you’re cold he’ll immediately use his warm hands to heat you up.
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WONWOO.
worrying about your safety.
one of wonwoo’s most endearing features is how he’s always watchful and attentive to you, pulling you to the side of the road when cars pass, picking cat hairs off your clothes or brushing a few stray crumbs from the corners of your lips.
in particular, he’s careful to make sure that you’re safe all the time. when he sees you stumble even slightly on a pavement crack, he’s reaching for you in panic, a hand outstretched, always ready to catch you if you fall.
sending you pictures throughout the day when you’re apart.
whether it’s a picture of a cute cat he saw at work, a café that he went to with his friends or even the pretty leaves adorning the trees during fall, wonwoo loves to share small things about his day with you.
especially if the two of you are apart, he likes to send you pictures as a reminder that he’s thinking about you. even if you can’t experience these moments together, he can at least share them with you, and he would love it if you did the same.
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VERNON.
unconsciously smiling whenever you smile.
even his friends have noticed how whenever you’re together, vernon’s eyes are always on you. watching you while you talk, eat, or simply do nothing— he can’t seem to be able to look away from you.
whenever you smile, the corners of his lips curve up into a smile too, fondness coloring his expression.
if the two of you are at a café with some friends, and you’re laughing at something they said, vernon will see you giggling and won’t even notice he’s started smiling too, his grin mirroring yours, until one of his friends teasingly points it out.
hugs from behind
vernon is quite comfortable when it comes to showing you physical affection. he likes being able to be in contact with you, even if it’s something small like having your shoulders touching or occasionally squeezing your hand.
his favorite thing to do is come up behind you and wrap his arms around you. he’ll simply hug you from behind and stand there, happy to have you in his arms, while you continue doing whatever you were doing. <3
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themarkofoxin · 4 months
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every time i think about dan and phil becoming the internet’s go-to example of the Dangers of Shipping Real People it makes me so exhausted. for their entire fourteen year career together they have encouraged people to write fic about them and draw fanart and generally “be creative” as they always phrase it. dan specifically, outside of 2012/2013 when he was aggressive towards fans pestering him about it, at one point said he likes reading fic and that he’s often surprised about how good they can be. hell, they wrote fanfic of themselves in their own published book and hired a popular fanartist to illustrate a manga of them.
and then dan came out. and in his video he mentioned how stressful it was to suddenly blow up and have a bunch of people speculating about his relationship, and how it triggered him due to his trauma from being heavily bullied in school. and then followed up the segment talking about how past that point the fans’ support was actually very healing for him, and hearing people tell him that he had helped them be comfortable with who they were without him even being out was one of the things that made him confident in coming out in the first place.
but the people who write angry posts about the evils of rpf or whatever don’t care about dan and phil’s actual opinions. they saw or heard about how annoying the fans were, heard along a thousand-step telephone game that dan and phil hate their fans, and have now christened them the platonic ideal of creators whose lives were ruined because of shippers. it’s ridiculous. it’s unfounded. and it’s disrespectful to the actual existence of the people they’re propping up to support their argument
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rene-darling · 1 year
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WHEN- you leave them without release
...as it says, something comes up and you leave them rock hard...
Tighnari...xiao...gorou...ayato
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Tighnari
You've stuffed an aphrodisiac mushroom in his mouth with has left him a drooling mess you fucked deep into him as he clawed your back while arching his own
Suddenly your akasha terminal let out a noise and you heard a message from your boss, it was something along the lines of not coming now or you'll be in big trouble
You roughened your pace as tighnari bit onto your shoulder drawing out blood, he soon came for the first time but as soon as you finished you rushed to go grab your things you mumbled about being back soon and quickly left
In his state tighnari couldn't quite understand your words, but soon, as his mind cleared a little he realized that you had just up and left! Leaving him still hot and bothered by the aphrodisiac!! He's about to run after you but the effects of the aphrodisiac are too strong and he falls flat on his ass
Be prepared for the lecture of your life because when you come back he's gonna give you an ear full! "ah- hey babe-" the glare he gives you shuts you right up now you're not afraid of many things- except when you're faced with a cock hungry tighnari
After he's done giving you an earful he makes you fuck him while he just lays on his back not moving a muscle!! But hey you owe him for leaving him like that!
Overstimulate him till he's crying "aw, baby why are you crying didn't you want this?"
Ayato
You don't get much time with ayato since he's always busy with work and stuff so when you finally do see each other you're both exhausted by the day and just fall asleep
But he was determined to push away the exhaustion to get some private time with you he was enjoying himself blindfolded and tied to the bed it had been a while since both of you had done something like this, it was good stress relief
The ropes weren't too tight yet if he really wanted to he could break them but he didn't he was your good boy after all
Suddenly a low knock was on the door you mumbled something like "one sec" and went ayato knew you would be back soon- and that you wouldn't let anyone into the room either, his delicate body is for your eyes to see and no one else's
But um... you're still not here.. it's been a couple of minutes but you're still not back, he's started to grow worried especially since he's rock hard with no clothing on and he's tied to the headboard of the bed
With minimal struggle, he's able to get himself out of his tied-up position, then he removes his blindfold ayato looks down and- he's still hard... Where the fuck are you
He puts on a silk robe to hide the obvious hard on and leaves his room in search of you roaming the halls he comes across thoma and decides to ask him about your whereabouts
"thoma, have you seen y/n by chance?" "ah my lord, yes, the people from fontain that we're supposed to arrive next week arrived earlier since they wanted to get lady ayaka's dress ready as soon as possible, my lady rushed to go and greet them since it would be disrespectful not to."
Archons, he can't believe this. This is the reason you left him in such a sorry state? God. You're such a workaholic
Be prepared to be ignored the rest of the day, when you come back he's laying down on the bed with his back to you you try shaking him and asking if he wants to continue but...no response 'maybe he's asleep...' leaving him alone you got in the bed and went to sleep
The next morning no matter how many times you tried talking to him he kept looking the other way, the next day he started making snide remarks whenever you tried spending time with him
' alright that's it tonight I'll make it up to him!" you made sure to shower and wear ayato's favorite fragrance he was giving you the cold shoulder- again he was pretending to have fallen asleep on his work table
You weren't going to be defeated this easily though so you grabbed him by the waist and lifted him up princess style, his eyes shot wide open "w-wha-... What are you doing y/n put me down!! What if someone sees" " I don't give a fuck if someone sees tonight is all about me and you." you exclaimed as you gently laid him on the bed "i-..um- a-alright...just, be gentle okay.." "alright"
You did not stay true to your word for long
Gorou
Poor poor gorou's heat is here but luckily you're here too!! And as his lover, it's your duty to fuck him through these rough times, is what he thinks
So as soon as you get home he's immediately clinging to you, his ears twitching and tail wagging as he desperately drags you too the bed
You were very amused with his desperation and how could you say no to his puppy face!
Things were getting steamy- fast as you were leaving apparent hickies on his exposed stomach while he moaned in euphoria
Soon a knock came from the door and before you could speak up a soldier spoke from the other side informing you that kokomi was urgently calling for you
Since this was something to do with the war you couldn't just not go so you told him you'll be there and got off gorou, who immediately noticed the weight of you leaving, but he was expecting you to go get some toys or lube or whatever so he didn't question you
You just assumed that gorou heard the soldier he didn't. And went rushing out of the tent to kokomi
A minute passed. Two. Then three, four, five, and soon it had been ten minutes since you left and gorou was left wondering, ' Where the heck are you??' he's left panting cuz his heat sure as hell isn't gone
He doesn't even try to make himself presentable and just goes out and to the nearest guard he sees "general gorou!...um are you okay you look a li-" "Where. Is. Y/n" "O-oh um- uh hah um- last I heard the divine priestess called for her-" Before he could even finish gorou stormed off leaving the poor guard in shambles
"So back to the topic at hand y/n-" Before Kokomo could even process her sentence the doors slammed open with a very annoyed-looking gorou "wha- gorou, babe why are-" " I get if you weren't in the mood but you could have at least got me my heat pills!!!" gorou was pissed.
"um- ill leave you guys to settle this lovers quarrel" Kokomo quickly rushed everyone and herself out since she did not want to be a third wheel
Safe to say it was good that she left since otherwise she would have witnessed gorou breaking his back while he stabbed his nails into your back making you bleed
You've advised gorou to cut his nails cuz for damn you were fricking bleeding with the scratches he left you! ...At least if someone saw that they knew you fucked good?
Xiao
It takes a lot of build up to get Xiao in the mood but it's always worth it, seeing his back arch while he claws at your back in ecstasy truly a sight to behold
You were on the couch xiao in your lap while you made out your hands were on his hips while his we're around your neck suddenly a knock came on the door and you both parted your lips and he panted in your lap "go sit on the bed xiao ill be back" you said quickly giving him one last kiss he shyly nodded while getting of your lap
You opened the door and it was the inn over verr "Did we make too much noise?" you asked getting straight to the point- or so you thought "wha- no why would there be noise- anyways a letter has come from the jade chamber saying there's been an emergency and you are needed"
"..fuck- um alright thanks verr" She left soon after wondering what 'noise' you were talking about
You quickly fixed yourself in the nearest mirror and yelled out to Xiao "Xiao! Somethings come up let's continue this after I come back" you yelled and then you rushed out the door assuming Xiao heard you...he didn't
Xiao waited and waited wondering what was taking you so long?? He stayed in the room for close to half an hour because he wanted to be your good boy but he just couldn't wait any longer so he looked his head out the door and saw...no one
After Xiao explores the entire house and doesn't find you he gets really embarrassed and teleports away he thinks he's done something wrong and you're mad at him!
When you finally do come back you see the whole house is empty with no Xiao insight
You call his name a few times to no answer it's when your voice starts to become panicked and desperate does he finally show up
"Xiao! Thank God I was worried- wait..have you been crying my love...?" you said noticing the red under his eyes as well as the wetness
"n-no.." he says in a broken tone which makes your heart shatter
You question him, to find out why and he finally spills telling you how it's because you left him! And he thinks he did something wrong! "aw..my darling you didn't do anything wrong something came up, that's why I left.." you kissed away any tears that threatened to spill from his pretty lashes "y-you mean..that...?" he asks you in such a gentle tone
"ya...come ill just show you how much a I mean that.." you grabbed his waist and pulled him into the bedroom
Next morning it's xiaos turn to be mad at you! You guys got a noise complaint from verr
"it's not like I was the one making noise.." he throws a pillow at you while you laugh at him "aw xiao you've gone all red..wanna go another rou-" y/n was never heard from again :)
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mitsies · 1 year
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» THE TRAIN RIDE HOME ; itoshi rin «
; ↠ itoshi rin sees you every morning at 7. the moment you smile at him, he knows it's all over.
## author's note: i went thru the 7th circle of hell and a pack of malboros while writing this. enjoy! ## contents: itoshi rin x reader, feminine reader, crushing, canon-compliant i think? idk ur both like 17 so it works, confessions and fluff! ## wc: 13.2k (i'm unwell)
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itoshi rin likes to count the people as they board the train. it's a habit leftover from his childhood, where he'd sit with his little legs swinging, pointing everyone out to his brother. (passenger 4 wore blue every day, and passenger 18 always had cat fur on his coat, and so on.)
he collected minute details to store in his head, a way to de-stress from the rush hour of his life. every morning at 6, he'd go on a run, and then from his final destination, he'd take the train back. rin was a regular, and an observant one at that- so it was only a matter of time before he noticed you.
you sat diagonally from him, always with your hands in your lap, twirling around the loose threads on the cuffs of your sweater. that was the first thing he noticed about you- the white cable-knit zip-up you frequently donned.
it looked nice on you, he thought. you seemed cozy, almost, as cozy as one could be on a train at 7 in the morning. rin wondered where you were going, since you appeared too young to have a corporate job.
you were on the train whenever he boarded and got off 2 stops before he did. and itoshi rin couldn't help but watch as you left. you carried a canvas tote with a familiar character that he couldn't quite place, and you'd always smiled warmly at the sweet old lady to your right. there were paint splatters smudging your shoes and rin wonders if you liked to draw.
he’d never ask, though. because why would he? you were a pretty person on the train, and he was just another passenger.
rin thinks he’ll settle for just watching, for now. he never expects you to look his way.
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it’s a cloudy thursday when you aren’t sitting at your regular spot for the first time in at least a month. rin shouldn’t feel a tinge of disappointment, the way he does in the pit of his stomach now. he doesn’t even know you, so who is he to be upset by your absence?
it’s not until he takes his own regular place that he realizes- you weren't missing. you'd just shifted seats. you were next to him, now, bag in your lap and hands rested on top of it.
rin snaps his head away from you as soon as he realizes you're there, and he can feel his ears burning. you're not even looking at him, exchanging amicable conversation with the same elderly woman, who is now across from you rather than next to you. there's a mother with a little sleeping boy on her lap occupying your regular place, and he presumes that's the cause of your breech of pattern.
he's snapped back to reality when the old lady laughs and says a name that sounds so honeyed and sweet that it couldn't belong to anyone but you.
"you're just the funniest," chuckles the woman, "makes me feel young again."
your smile is wry. "i guess i picked that up from you, mrs. sato."
rin doesn't quite mean to eavesdrop on your quiet conversation, it kind of just happens. you were right next to him, how could he not? and he also didn't mean to sneak glances towards you whenever you were turned away. that was also an accident, a slip-up he was very grateful that no one else picked up on.
it wasn't his fault that you looked even prettier up close. it wasn't his fault that he wanted to memorize how you looked when you smiled, down to the minuscule creases and lines of your cheeks.
you bid mrs. sato goodbye with a polite tip of your head when the train reaches your stop. your shoes have new paint stains, and your jacket is collecting more lint. rin wonders if you've noticed. and he watches you go long after you're gone.
he's not expecting to be addressed, so it takes a few tries before mrs. sato gets his attention.
"hello! young man! hello," she waves a wrinkled hand in rin's face and he turns to her.
"so..." her eyes shine with a childlike mirth and rin is a bit scared because what is going on?
"you're not as sneaky as you think you are, boy."
rin stiffens. "what?"
"i see you peeking at my dear friend."
he blinks, unsure how to reply. it's not everyday that the 70-something year old woman your totally-not-a-crush is friends with confronts you about your staring problem.
"huh?" he asks dumbly.
the old woman rolls her eyes and the train lurches to a stop. "well. i'm out of town for who knows how long, and i wouldn't want them to be lonely. i'm sure you wouldn't, either."
she stands with a joking wink and rin fights the embarrassed scowl from creeping onto his face. he's positive that he's red right now, and he's giving his all to not be disrespectful to this elderly woman in public.
"well, be good to them." rin opens his mouth but she's already hobbling away. he sinks back into his seat and wishes it would eat him alive.
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rin sees you the next day, sitting in the same place as you were yesterday. he shifts to put a little more space between the two of you, a little embarrassed- his breathing is still heavy from his run, and he's sure he smells of sweat.
you notice and give him a soft smile, though something akin to confusion muddles your eyes. you must be wondering where mrs. sato is, but you don't bring it up.
"sorry," you apologize for nothing. you also scoot a little to the side, and rin almost wants to say 'no, don't move further, you didn't do anything,' but that would be creepy and he doesn't want to be that guy.
so instead he fights his resting bitch face and gives you a sharp nod without meeting your eyes, because his face is already hot from hearing your voice say a single word and he is rather humiliated by his limits. "you're fine."
rin thinks he sounds like a strangled cat and he'd punch himself in the face if you weren't right there. but you give him a smile, and he feels a strange elation, and god, was it always this warm on the train?
"you're on this train every day, right?" your voice is hushed, and rin wonders if it's because you're trying not to disturb the mother and her child (who are still cuddled into your usual spot) or if that's just your demeanor. either way, he wants to find out. he wants to know you.
"i am."
you seem to consider his words for a moment and rin realizes that this means you know him. or, at least, know of him. you've seen him every morning just as he's seen you- the realization sends a strange spark through his stomach.
"where are you headed to so early?"
"home. i run out here and take the train back."
"you're a runner?"
"something like that."
you hum, and before you turn away, rin speaks again. "where are you going?"
he watches as you turn your head back towards him, a genuine smile forming on your face. "i work at a primary school. it's not an official position, but i'm kind of the art teacher."
he raises his brows. "art teacher?"
"yeah! i started off as a volunteer, but i guess i fit better since i'm younger than regular teachers," you shrug, and rin thinks he could listen to you talk forever.
your voice is beautiful, he thinks. it suits your name, and you face, and he can't think about it much longer because otherwise he'll start burning alive. he's still not looking at you when you introduce yourself, because for the sake of his dignity he doesn't think he can.
he already knows your name but he thinks it sounds even prettier falling from your lips. and god, he messed up, because now he's thinking about your lips.
"itoshi rin," he manages to get out when it's his turn to introduce himself.
"itoshi rin," you repeat, and the boy thinks he might die right then and there. what is wrong with him?
you're about to say something more but you get a look out the window and realize it's almost your stop. grabbing your bag, you stand as the train stills.
"this is me. i guess i'll see you tomorrow, then."
"see you."
and then you're gone, just like that. the morning train is silent once more, save for the whirring as it begins to run again and the footsteps of passengers finding their places.
rin decides that he can't wait until tomorrow. he's not sure why.
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over the next few days, you and rin grow closer. or, you'd like to think you've become closer. you talk a lot more, about everything, and he sits and listens.
he knows about your favorite student at work, and how he had given you the doraemon tote bag that you always sported for your birthday last year. he knows about your cat named snorkel and how your friends always tried to set you up on dates. he knows about your favorite foods and how you hated sleeping with wet hair.
and rin decided that he would do anything to hear you talk. he acted uninterested, sure, but he hung off every word you said. he engraved every single sentence into the details of his memories, stowing away any information you'd give him in the catalogs of his brain.
it came to a point where every single one of his thoughts were tainted with the knowledge of you. you were all he could think about- he saw you in every crowd and smelt your perfume in the wind even when you weren't around.
it was pathetic, really, the way he searched for you in everything, and the way you appeared to him, too. especially since this 'infatuation' was the product of a few measly mornings and some half-asleep conversations.
this was pitiful, rin thought, he was pitiful. but he kept coming back.
(..and it was especially pitiful because you were kind of annoying.)
your smile was as radiant as it was infectious, and you really, really liked talking. you might've been a little hesitant to speak to rin at first, but that certainly wasn't true anymore. with the way you ran your mouth, anyone would think you'd been friends for years.
rin hated how you left him without things to say. he couldn't muster his usual cruelties when he spoke to you. usually, he just hummed along or gave you minimal replies. but the flow of the conversations you had were never dull, and they became a highlight of his day.
"you'll never guess what happened," you started, as soon as rin took his usual seat next to you one tuesday morning. he uncapped his water bottle and took a sip as you continued.
"yesterday morning, i told you about how we were doing an animal painting activity, right?"
"yeah."
"okay, so i had just finished my example and instructions, and i was helping this one little boy. he's really sweet, by the way, he just doesn't really like... paint. which is kind of counterproductive."
"mhm."
"but anyways, this other kid comes up to me- she's tugging on my sleeve, and she says 'i made you something!' and it's not like i never get paintings from students, so i'm all like 'oh, thank you! what is it!' fully expecting it to be just some drawing, right?"
"right."
"but she hands me my bag!"
it's then that rin notes that you aren't carrying your usual tote bag. instead, you have an old canvas satchel that's cute but not nearly as endearing as your previous one. he frowns.
"it was fully covered in paint- like, it was all over her hands and everything. no way i'm getting that bag back. so messy," you shudder.
"it was the one your student gave you last year, right?"
"yeah. i'm a little sad, but i can't be too upset. she was like, 7 years old. they do that."
you begin to prattle on about some other inane topic, and for the first time since he's met you, you don't have rin's full attention. you don't seem to notice, but he's already adding another item to his mental checklist.
‧̍̊ ˙ · 𓆝 . ° 。 ˚ 𓆛 ˚ 。 ° . 𓆞 · ˙ ‧̍̊
the following day, when rin boards the train, he doesn't greet you. he's holding something, and when he sits next to you he wordlessly drops it on your lap.
"what's this?" you fumble with the item in your hands- it's something light in a plain paper bag. rin doesn't reply, crossing his arms and slouching down in his seat. he stares straight ahead, eyes probably burning holes into the side of the train.
"okay, grouch. don't say anything, then."
"just open the bag, dumbass."
"jesus, fine."
you reach into the parcel, pulling out a denim bag. it's roomy and well-crafted, and a set of pins are stuck into the side. you recognize familiar cartoon characters, a paint palette, and a little train. for the first time since you've met rin, you're not sure what to say.
you stare down at the bag. rin stares at you. when you look up to meet his eye he whips his head away. but then he hears a shuffling, and your arms are around his neck, and he's frozen.
you're hugging him, and he can smell your hair, and he can't say a word. he thinks your shampoo smells like peaches. he would ask you if he was right if only he could find the words.
you're gone just as soon as you appeared and rin misses your warmth, but maybe a bit of it has transferred to him because he's all hot beneath the collar of his crewneck and he's feeling his face grow uncomfortably flushed.
he slumps back in his seat as you fiddle with the enamel pins- they're dainty and unique, and you're a little taken aback by how thoughtful they are. "i love this."
if rin were to try and form a coherent sentence, he thinks he might combust. so he just hums an 'mhm' and pries his gaze back to the opposing window, a little humiliated by how difficult it is for him to take his eyes off you.
he thinks he's done a pretty good job of cooling himself down until your hand is on his forearm. the contact feels icy against his hot, flushed skin and it sends a shiver down his spine as he turns to meet your gaze again.
"thank you," you say and your hands gently squeeze his arm, "this means so much to me. really."
this isn't the first time you've left him speechless, but it's the first time you've witnessed just how potent your effect on rin really is. you smile at him again before leaving him be, continuing to fiddle with the bag while he recuperates.
you keep talking at him but it's in one ear and out the other, and by the time it's your stop he's only a little bit better. you stand when the train stops and the window's light trickles through the opened doors and falls upon your lips like they're being highlighted just for him. he blinks the thought away.
"i'll see you tomorrow morning, rin," you say as you hold your bag close to your side, its new contents sitting heavy in the bottom. rin only nods and crosses his arms.
he hopes that little expression can contain the vast expanse of indescribable emotions that he feels for you, but he knows he's unfair for that because even rin himself hasn't been able to comprehend them.
he's not sure why he doesn't see you as a bother or distraction. he's not sure why he'd be disappointed whenever you didn't continue a conversation or praise the littlest things in a way he'd never expect from anyone else. he's not sure why he's so determined to make you smile, and he's even more uncertain as to what the strange, strange sensation he experiences whenever he succeeds is.
he's not sure, he's not sure, he's not sure, but he thinks he loves it.
he frowns. rin loves how you make him feel. his frown grows deeper at the realization. his eyelids flutter shut and he tips his head back against the edge of his seat, a dull thump sounding as it hits the metal.
he thinks he'll ignore this realization, for now.
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it's almost a week after rin's gotten you the bag, and it's become your new everyday option. he can't help but think it looks especially good with your white zip-up and he applauds himself silently for his fashion choices.
the bag already has some tiny, colourful fingerprints decorating the sides and streaked up from where you'd presumably snatched your property out of your students' grabby little hands.
the thought makes his lips quirk upwards into a tiny little half-smile, one that's barely there but you pick up on all the same. pausing in the middle of your sentence, you ask him: "what're you thinking about?"
if rin was smooth, and if he was interested in you, he'd reply with 'just you, babe,' or something else that would make you blush and make him want to die inside. but rin is not smooth, nor is he sure how he feels about you.
it's nothing short of sickening, how you continue to take residence in his mind constantly. if he thought it was bad when he'd first started talking to you, it was a thousand times worse now. rin kind of wishes he could go back in time for the sole purpose of beating the shit out of the past him as a warning to not let you do this to him.
because, if he was being honest, he was scared. the premonition that his feelings toward you might be something like attraction was horrific because god, what was he supposed to do?
his entire life was dedicated to being the best. he was born to be on top and he'd die on that podium, looking down on everyone else. in the past, he'd cared about nothing else but winning.
his dreams, for the longest time, were plagued by pedestals and gold medals, and trophies with his last name but someone else's first. he'd fall asleep to his mind's eye envisioning blood pooling in his gut as he bled for his crown, his crown that was always out of reach.
and then you showed up in them. rin couldn't decide if you made his dreams better or worse. (okay, that was a lie- definitely better, but he's not ready to admit that quite yet.)
in the midst of his bad dreams, you'd come to him, sitting pretty on the train next to him. you'd talk but he'd never be able to remember what you said come morning.
this was bad, rin thinks, he was bad. he was awful and horrible and wrong because he should be dreaming about winning and not you. you were distracting him, being on his mind all the time. while he ran to the train stop, a task that usually cleared his tired mind, all he could picture was you, you, you, waiting for him.
that was another thing. you were waiting for him, and he couldn't not show up. rin's considered changing his routine so he could keep away from you for the sole purpose of fighting his maybe-crush and being able to focus on his sport. he's thought about not replying to your texts, which you sent every afternoon to check in and ask how he was.
but then he pictured you, alone on the train, and he couldn't. the thought of you getting friendly with anyone but him made his skin crawl. what if that boy who sat on the other side by the door tried to talk to you while he wasn't there?
no, no, rin couldn't have that. not when he liked you this much- it was far too late to let go. he'd already done this to himself.
so he keeps coming back, every single morning, just to see your face. there was no denying it anymore- rin liked you. too bad he'd never say a thing.
"rin?" your voice snaps him out of his thoughts. "what's up?"
he glares at you like he hates you, but you know better and so does he. "nothing."
you tilt your head. he stares right back at you before conceding. "the paint smudges on your sweater and stuff."
"hm. what about them?"
"your job must be hard."
if he's being honest, rin doesn't really care about what you do. he's just trying very hard to not let the fact that he was smiling thinking about you show.
"it's not that bad," you say, "well, i mean- tedious, sure. plus i hardly get paid, i'm not under contract, and they could just decide to stop paying me at any point since there's nothing making them, technically."
rin raises an eyebrow. "and you say it's not that bad?"
"it's not! really!"
"and you work with kids."
"yeah, so not that bad."
"that's worse." you make a face at him and he fights another smile because how do you do this to him so easily?
"i swear it's not as bad a job as it seems."
"it's not even a job, technically," rin points out.
"okay, okay, you can stop making fun of my position, rin."
your use of his name makes his heart do something weird and nauseating in his chest and he hates it. "whatever."
you hum in contemplation before sitting up in your seat with an idea. "how about you come with me today?"
rin stiffens. "what?"
you don't flinch at his unintentionally bittered tone, and rin feels something strange inside him again. he feels a bit like a fish out of water, being put on the spot like that.
"well, i mean- only if you're free, of course," you twist away from rin ever-so-slightly as you start to backtrack, hands finding their way to fiddle with a strand of your hair, "i don't wanna overstep or anything, and i know you're probably busy and we're just-"
"no."
rin's voice cuts you off. "oh. that's cool, i'm sorry i asked."
oh. that wasn't what he meant to say at all. "no, no, wait. i mean no, stop talking."
"oh. i said i was sorry."
he's really just digging his own grave, at this point.
"wait, wait, wait. i mean.. no, stop talking, yes, i'll go with you."
it's almost comical how you brighten up in a heartbeat, and a strange twinge of pride at the fact that his presence could do that to you zips through his chest.
"oh, i'm great. i mean- that's great. this is great. i'm so excited." you fiddle with the sleeves of your sweater and the enamel pins on your bag that he got you jingle and rin thinks that he's stupid for ever considering avoiding you.
and again- if he was a better man, he'd say so. but he's not, so he side-eyes you instead. "are you sure this is even allowed?"
"i am. as long as you're not some kind of criminal, or whatever." you look back at him, eyes creased with amusement. "you're not, yeah?"
"nope. just a few aggravated assault charges." he's only kind of joking (because injuries on the field do not count against him outside of it), and his voice is dry with sarcasm. he's not expecting you to laugh but you do, and he thinks everything he's done to lead up to this moment has been worth it.
"lovely. then you'll be fine. i hope you're good with kids, rin."
his mouth falls into a frown. he'd forgotten about that. he's about to say something but the train lurches or a stop and you're standing, prompting him to follow.
it occurs to rin that this is the first time the both of you have stood next to each other. the slight widening of your eyes at his obscene height is something that amuses him, but he chooses not to comment on.
he also keeps silent about how your beat-down and paint-smudged pair of shoes squeak ever-so-slightly as they exit the train. you move with a slight bounce in your step that makes the shoes pivot and squeal a little in a way that should irritate rin and not endear you to him the way it does.
it's only a short way to the school you work at from the train station, and you talk about menial things the whole way. rin's arms are crossed uncomfortably over his chest as he walks, and the plush insides of his deep blue sweater suddenly feel too hot, and he's feeling clammy even though the sun is hardly out.
you walk through the front office with rin in tow, tailing you while looking incredibly uncomfortable the whole time. the front office ladies chuckle like they know something he doesn't when you check him in and rin kind of wants to punch them. he doesn't, though.
when you lead him to your classroom (or, more precisely- a large storage room that was reassembled with tables and chairs to become a classroom) he's not surprised to find it colorful and bright.
the walls which aren't big windows are practically covered in various pieces- hand turkeys, landscapes, various misshapen animals, crude imitations of people- and a few pieces that are undoubtedly from a much more skilled artist. there are beautiful scenes that look like they're from movies, and there are unique interpretations that seem like they took painstakingly long to create.
he walks up to one- a faceless pair of women. one is sitting on the kitchen counter and the other stirs a bowl of something that looks like cookie dough. it's simple, it's sweet, and it's beautifully made. "you painted this?"
you're placing your bag down on the chair that sits behind the teacher's desk, which is just a repurposed old table. "i did. that's really old, though. kind of embarrassing."
"it's not." his finger traces his newest observation about the painting- your name scrawled in the corner. "it's not."
he's not looking at you, but he knows you're staring at him. he won't look back now, but he wonders what you're thinking. he imagines your quizzical expression, and he imagines the sun filtering in through the windows making you shine as you absorb every colour in the room.
he imagines you looking at him, and he thinks it's the prettiest sight he's ever thought up.
the bell rings after a beat of silence passes. the shrill noise draws you both from your stupor, and rin turns to see you walking around, busying yourself with placing a piece of thick watercolour paper on each desk.
"well," you say, and rin might be imagining it but your voice is a little choked, "we've got.. 2 classes? yeah, two. both will be 7-year-olds today. think you can deal with that?"
rin's eyes narrow. "i thought you said i wouldn't have to deal with any kids."
your face contorts into a smile. "yeah. i know. you can just sit in the back and watch. i'll get them to not bother you."
you gesture to a tiny little desk situated in the back corner of the room and rin cringes internally as he walks up to it. he sees you biting back a laugh and glares. as he takes a seat, his knees are up to his chest and his arms are draped uncomfortably over them.
"this isn't funny," he deadpans as you bite your tongue. with a humiliating amount of effort, he removes himself from the tiny chair and walks back over to the teacher's desk where you stand, crossing his arms over his chest.
"in my defense, i didn't compensate for how tall you'd be. you can just be at my desk, i don't mind."
you place your bag down onto the floor in the corner and rin moves to take your seat. all you have on your desk is a pile of books that are collecting dust, and a dingy computer setup that seemed like it was from the stone ages. there's a series of sticky notes on the black screen- he knows he shouldn't, but he reads a few.
there's a few about restocking some supplies, and even more about various lesson plans. rin thinks you put an awful lot of work into a position that technically isn't legal. and then, his eyes land on his name- in pink pen that stands out on the yellow paper, 'itoshi rin' is scrawled on with a myriad of stars and hearts and squiggles surrounding it.
rin blinks, half expecting the message to vanish. it doesn't. his hand reaches out to take the note but he's interrupted by the room door slamming open and a gaggle of children bursting in.
their teacher seems exhausted, and rightfully so, especially considering it was barely 8 in the morning. she takes a seat close to the exit and slumps over, seemingly asleep, as the students spread around the room.
they take places behind desks and fist the provided paintbrushes in their little grubby hands, chattering amongst themselves as if it's not insanely early. rin watches as you bounce around the room, conversing with the kids who call your name.
his gaze doesn't leave you once, as you move to the front of the classroom to begin your speech on today's assignment. he's only half-listening, but he catches short phrases. it's something about practicing watercolour responsibly and learning to work with a new medium.
rin's never been an art kid. he's never seen the appeal. but the way you seem so excited to be there, and so genuinely happy to teach, makes him think that he should be listening, too.
the kids start to paint, now. he notices how some of them start with a pencil, tracing crude outlines of whatever they're trying to make, while others dive headfirst into the watercolour. you weave around desks lavishing them in praise, and rin wonders what you were like when you were their age.
little feet begin to scramble around the classroom as the assigned seating chart dissolves with time. you don't seem to care all too much, continuing to help a student- a little girl, with tiny, short pigtails tied off with purple scrunchies.
he doesn't realize he's been watching you until the girl catches his eye and says something he can only kind of make out. "who's that guy lookin' at you all mean?"
her finger points straight at rin, and he promptly pretends like he was very invested in the blank screen of your 1900s computer. he sneaks a glance back to see your eyes fixed on him before returning to the girl with an awkward laugh.
"ah, him! he's.. my friend. he's just sticking with me today," you smile, and feels himself sink into the chair deeper. he's not sure what he feels at the use of the word 'friend' but he doesn't think he likes it.
but it was a fine answer. it was decent, it was true- what, did he expect more? if he did, clearly he wasn't the only one because the little girl with the pigtails gives you a look. rather loudly, she exclaims "you mean your boyfriend?"
you blanch at her words and rin's subtle gaze returns to a full-on stare as he watched your reactions. "asami, not so loud! indoor voices," you try to sound authoritative but your voice splinters and sea of little faces is suddenly turned to face you.
and then, slowly, like a horror movie, the 20-something 7-year-olds pivot to face rin.
a little voice speaks up. "you're ms. teacher's boyfriend?"
in a normal scenario, rin would probably linger on the fact that you were addressed as 'ms. teacher' as if you had no other name. but with an ocean of inquisitive eyes, yours especially, he felt a little frozen. just as he was about to snap open his mouth to say something probably cruel and snippy, you jumped in.
rushing to the front of the crowd you wave your hands frantically, trying to maintain your cheery disposition while sweating through your clothes with anxiety. "no, no! he's- he's not my boyfriend! and don't bother him, please, he doesn't.. speak the language! he's from.. germany!"
it's a bad lie. horrible, even. and it would take a fool to fall for it- either a fool or a collection of unbelievably innocent children.
"oh!" one pipes up, "is that why he's so mean and doesn't talk?"
you furrow your brow. "we don't call people mean, remember."
and just like that, everything is back to normal. or, at least, however normal this situation could be. the students resume their artistry and continue scurrying like mice around the room to show off their creations or grab fresh sheets of paper.
you walk up to rin, and he hopes his ears have turned less red at this point as you sit on the desk in front of him. "see? not so bad."
he narrows his eyes. "are we in the same room right now? did you not just see that?'
you sigh dramatically and place your hands behind you as you slouch back. "maybe they're right. you are mean."
"okay?"
"you should be ashamed of yourself, y'know."
"you really do sound like a schoolteacher." at this you laugh and swat at his shoulder, eliciting a tiny could-be smile from rin. "never say that to me again."
and it seems like cutting rin off is a fun activity, because a little boy with messy brown hair skips up to the desk and basically shouts, "hello!"
the thing is, he's not talking to you- he's talking to rin. big, doe eyes are fixed on the striker expectantly, and he rolls back and forth on heels while clutching something in his hands behind his back.
rin blinks. "hi."
he sounds mean, he's sure, and definitely not german, but the kid doesn't seem to notice or care. "i think germ-in-ey is so neat! i made you this!"
the country is pronounced like he's speaking with rocks in his mouth but the boy's smile is bright and he holds a kind-of crumbled piece of watercolour paper in his hands.
it's still dripping and incredibly poorly done. what appears to be a house? or a building of some kind? is splattered onto a green line that might be grass. a blob that could be a body if you squinted hard enough is attached to a big oval with messy dark hair, angry eyebrows paired with neon blue eyes, and the biggest eyelashes the world has ever seen. they extended from all the way inside the eye to the sticks that rin supposes must be hands.
a random rectangle with doodles inside is in the top left corner. a little label reads 'german flag' in pencil.
rin blinks at the paper and looks dully at the kid. he feels your eyes staring into him, too, and he opens his mouth before closing it again, unsure of what to say.
"this looks bad," he speaks before he knows what's coming, eyes widening at his own words. a deep pit of guilt opens in his stomach as the boy retracts his hands with the paper. oh, my god, what did he just say?
he is unbelieveably lucky that you are still next to him at that moment, because you jump in to save the day yet again:
"haru! don't worry about him- he's german, remember? he doesn't know how to say what he means! bad in german actually just.. uh.. means really, really good!"
the boy instantly brightens up again, like a wilting flower back in bloom. "really? that's so cool! i didn't know they spoke german in germ-in-ey!"
you return his bright smile. "how crazy! what a small world!"
the little boy skips away, leaving his masterpiece in your hands, and rin lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
"oh, wow," you say with a sparkle of amusement in your eyes, "i didn't know you were this horrid with kids."
a grumble of annoyance leaves him, but he's more embarrassed than anything at this point. "and i didn't know i was german."
you shrug. "it was the first thing that came to mind. it worked, didn't it?"
rin ignores your question. "i can't believe you let that kid go off thinking 'bad' means good. he's gonna go around telling everyone that."
"i.. did not consider this," you purse your lips, "it's his teacher's problem. i don't even work here, technically."
"so you're a random person who comes onto campus and spreads lies to children."
a smile splits your face. "at least i'm a nice liar."
"nice?"
"oh. ouch. okay, thanks rin."
and he exhales, and it's no longer just a half-smile, because you see it so clearly on his face- the way his lips turn up at your words as he speaks. "yeah. anytime."
it's then that itoshi rin has a moment of infinite clarity- he's fallen for you. he doesn't like that fact, nor does he understand the intricacies of this romance.
he likes you. that's all there is to it. rin doesn't see why there needs to be any more. it's not like he'll tell you and even though the feeling of repressed and realized emotions in his chest is something a little unbearable, he's dealt with worse. and he thinks he'd rather keep his mornings beautiful than run the risk of messing it all up.
so rin thinks he'll settle for being in your background, as he watches you hop off the desk and move to help the students as they finish their paintings and clean up.
they sing a stupid jingle about keeping things neat that makes you laugh in the way you do where your head tips back just a little, and rin swears it's his favourite sound in the world.
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it's another hour and another class before you're finally done with your work. the second one was thankfully a lot less strenuous for rin- none of the students paid him much mind at all, save for the occasional curious glance every so often.
"bye ms. teacher!" the final student belted before leaving, slamming the door with a resounding thud. you wave cheerfully and take a deep breath as soon as the kid is out of sight. "and we're done! how was that, rin? you just got the full fake-teacher experience."
rin stands from his place behind your desk and stretches out his limbs, slightly sore from being in one place for so long. "as bad as i thought it'd be."
"you're always so negative."
"glad you noticed."
you roll your eyes and grab a spray bottle and washcloths off the highest shelves. "help me clean?"
wordlessly, he catches the rag you toss and the other bottle. the two of you work in silence for a few moments, wiping down the desks that the students had done their best at keeping neat. the only noises were the muffled sounds of the cafeteria during lunchtime outside and the ever-present squeaks your shoes made.
the lighting through the window lit the scene golden and turned all the colors and textures and works in your classroom even more beautiful. and not just them- rin thinks that you look breathtaking in the sunlight. a part of him suspects that it was invented just for you.
"what did you think?"
rin looks up at your voice. "hm?"
"what did you think? about this, i mean."
he looks at you for a moment. this is a new expression, the one you're wearing- at least, one he's never been able to observe unobstructed. you almost seem bashful, in the sunlight, refusing to meet his eyes.
"i think," he says, and he's so careful because he thinks he'd die of embarrassment if he misspoke and insulted you again, "that this makes sense."
"what?"
he frowns, not wanting to explain himself. "you loving this. it makes sense."
"i actually have no idea what you mean by that."
he scoffs, "whatever," but you keep pushing, curiously leaning over the table and placing your washcloth down.
"you can't just 'whatever' me. i'm curious now."
"you're irritating."
"i'm aware." you keep looking at him and it's no surprise to him when his conviction crumbles into dust and ash.
"you just seem like an art person." he tries and fails to get his point across. you raise a brow. "are you profiling me? what, do i seem like your starving artist trope?"
"no, no," he grumbles, "like, you're.."
and he's not sure.
rin has no idea how to follow up his words. because he thinks so many things of you- he thinks you're kind, in ways he will never be, and he thinks you're pretty enough to rival the sun, and he thinks you're flat out lovely- but he can't convey it all into one word.
"you're just you," he says. it's a simple statement, said with a conviction that doesn't match the quiet tone of his voice. he speaks softly, like he's afraid you might disappear if he was too loud.
blinking, you meet his gaze, and rin hopes you can see yourself how he sees you in the reflection. he hopes you see yourself like gold, and all the colours in the world, and as the essence of creativity- he hopes you know that he sees you as art, plain and simple.
but your expression is unreadable. he wonders if his is, too. and rin also wonders what you see when you look at him, because you're suddenly inhaling sharply and pivoting, busing yourself with straightening up jaws that don't really need to be fixed.
"well, rin," you say, and your voice is a pitch higher, "i didn't mean to keep you so long. i'm sorry you got held up here."
you're laughing, but it sounds strained, and rin wishes he could go up and smooth whatever's bothering you out from your skin, but that's creepy so he'd rather not.
"i didn't stay so long because you made me or anything. i wanted to."
"oh." you freeze for a split second before continuing to scrub a little too vigorously, "uh. thanks."
"i like your paintings," he blurts out. it's not fitting as a response, and he should've just said 'you're welcome' and moved on with his life, but he feels like he needs to say something, and relieve at least a fraction of the burden off his chest. he likes your paintings, and he likes you, but he can't say that quite yet.
"oh! i didn't take you as an art connoisseur."
"i'm not."
and he was telling the truth- rin knew virtually nothing about art. he remembers his own experiences with the subject, all limited to his pre-teen years in school, where he'd been forced to make whatever the teacher commanded.
his work had always been lopsided and a little fugly, but in the spirit of learning no one had ever said anything. it was always 'that's so good!' or 'you're so creative!' or 'nice cat!' when it was meant to be a tree.
"not even a little bit?" you hum as you lean onto your tiptoes, struggling to push a bottle of cleaning solution back into the space. rin moves to your side, placing it on for you. he misses how you go breathless at his actions.
"was never an art kid," he says simply.
you purse your lips in that stupid way he's noticed you do when something doesn't go right, and shake your head. "i don't buy it."
he raises an eyebrow. "what?"
"i don't believe that."
"you're just.. rejecting my statement?"
"yeah. everyone's an art kid."
rin considers your words before shaking his head. "no. you're just weird."
rolling your eyes, you're suddenly gone again to the front of the classroom, rifling through a set of overworked cabinets that seem to be bursting at the seams. you come back to the desk rin was standing by with a full arm of various supplies- he recognizes paper, canvas, pencils, gouache paints, and brushes.
"everyone's an art kid," you repeat, "you just never had anyone show you right."
"you sound fucking crazy."
"yeah, probably," you reply, motioning for him to sit down on the chair. he complies, and you hop up to take a seat on the desk again.
"and cheesy as hell. like a stupid nickelodeon character."
"that's a little far. be nicer to me! i'm about to give you free painting lessons."
"ones that i didn't ask for."
you sit back on your hands. "you could leave if you wanted."
rin is silent. you smile. "lessons it is."
‧̍̊ ˙ · 𓆝 . ° 。 ˚ 𓆛 ˚ 。 ° . 𓆞 · ˙ ‧̍̊
you might have been a little bit incorrect in your approach. rin is kind of a little bit hopeless with art.
"just a straight line," you're practically begging, "just one. you can do it."
rin proceeds to draw another very un-straight line to go with all the other ones on the piece of paper.
that was okay, though! maybe pencils just weren't for him. you could live with that. you'd brought out some paints just for this possibility, after all.
painting is difficult to mess up. you slap some colors on a canvas, call it modern art, and you're set- that was your philosophy. anyone could paint. anyone, you now think, except for itoshi rin.
"are you colourblind?" you say, and you're not trying to be mean, you're genuine, because he had just used the most horrendous choice of color palate he could have had.
"shut up," he scowls, covering his face with his hands. "you're a shit teacher."
you gawk at him. "how is this on me?"
"your stupid 'art kid' philosophy. plus, you've just been staring, not teaching."
you frown. okay, yeah, maybe you had been a little bit stare-y, but it's not really your fault. he just has one of those faces that would be criminal not to stare at. an idea pops up in your mind, and you hop off the desk.
rin turns his head to follow you as you move behind him. "what are you doing?"
"i'm teaching," you bite back playfully, leaning over his figure. you take a hold of his hand with the paintbrush, and you're both so close that you can hear his heartbeat speeding up inside of his chest. you wonder if he can feel yours do the same.
your hand ghosts his before you take a hold, grabbing it gently. his palms are warm and his whole body seems to radiate heat. the skin of his hand is rough and calloused.
"like this," you instruct, dragging the brush slowly across the canvas. it's already a smoother, straighter line than his previous ones. rin remains speechless, but he lets you take control of his movements. you direct him gently and he moves in return, like a slow dance on canvas.
after some time, a scene is playing out on the formerly blank space before the both of you. it's the classroom, complete with the yellowed lighting of the sun coming through the windows and the blocks of color to represent the various works hanging on the walls. it's a crude imitation of reality, but a piece of you and a piece of him, and you think that makes it beautiful.
"see?" you say, breaking the silence, "you did that."
you move to release your grip on rin's hand but he clasps his other one over it without thinking. you blink at him. he lets go, embarrassed.
"you did most of the work," he shrugs off, but it feels like he's just talking to himself, "i was just there."
"hm. you're right, but come on! give yourself some credit."
your attempt to lighten the heavy tension in the air falls onto deaf ears. "i should go," he mumbles, standing.
"oh."
"bye." his words lack the usual edge, and he seems more confused than upset. still, you wonder if you've overstepped and a pit forms in your stomach.
"bye," you say, but he's already out the door.
you try not to be too upset about it, but it's a little difficult. you've liked rin since before you even knew his name, and you were far too stubborn to let it go just yet.
you'd been almost 100% he felt the same, too. but again, your pride wouldn't allow you to make the first move. and his reaction to the closeness didn't bode well for your intentions.
a surge of disappointment consumes your chest and everything suddenly feels a lot heavier. your regular cable-knit feels itchy and too hot on your skin. you bite your tongue.
your friends have mocked you for your infatuation with this faceless 'itoshi rin.' they've encouraged you to move on from this crush that was seemingly going nowhere until almost a month ago, even going as far as to try and set you up with someone. maybe you should finally look into that offer,
you sigh to yourself and flop back onto the hard wood of the desk. oh well, you think, you'll see him tomorrow anyway.
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the next week of early morning train rides is missing something.
rin notices it almost right away- how you sit a little farther from him, you you're just a little more skittish and quick to leave. it's a stab in the gut every single time, and he's not sure how he can mend the undeniable rift forming between the both of you.
he's not sure what happened. was it his leaving? had that upset you? why?
the invisible wound of unspoken words festered like mould as the morning conversations grew shorter and stiffer, and he felt helpless like he never had before.
and then, you bring something up that makes his heart plummet.
"this afternoon? i think i have a date, actually."
he shouldn't be mad. he shouldn't be upset. but doesn't he have the right? the person he likes, and ew, he hates admitting that, is going on a date with someone else.
"oh."
"mhm. my best friend's friend- she's been trying to get me to go out with him for ages."
"oh."
"tomorrow night, i think it is."
"hm."
"i hope it goes well."
"why?"
again, rin's mouth runs separately from his conscience. he wants to hit himself. you have no obligation to answer, because the both of you are just friends, maybe even less.
you blink, looking over at him. "i mean.. why not?"
the rest of the train ride continues in awkward silence until you get off. you give him a brief smile but you don't say goodbye, and rin watches your figure walk away until the train starts again and he can't anymore.
there is a very strange emotion, that rin is experiencing. he recognizes parts of it- that same bitter, green envy that curls around his lungs and squeezes til he can't breathe. he's familiar, but never in this context.
and then there's something darker that hurts his chest. it reminds him of growing pains, and of valentine's day, and of things he never thought he could have wanted. it reminds rin of you, and he is so, so distraught.
that afternoon, he waits for your text. usually, your messages are usual, like clockwork. you'd message him around 1 when you were on the train ride home, either to update him about your day or send him a game pigeon game.
he always indulged your messages, and he'd never let you see but you were one of the pinned contacts on his phone.
that day, however, your text never comes.
he's so pathetic for how he sits in the locker room at 2, alone, staring at his phone screen. he's sad for how he's taking a break from practicing at 3 just in case you message. he's stupid for how he spends the next few hours just waiting for a notification that he knows will probably never come.
it's 10 now, and rin has never felt more tired.
he's about to go to bed, having his night clothes lined up on his bed and brushing his teeth in the bathroom mirror. it was an average, regular day- there was nothing special nor abnormal, but everything just felt so wrong.
he wonders if you were on your date then, as he spits his toothpaste into the sink. he wonders what you wore- if you donned your white cable-knit or your squeaky paint-smudged shoes. he wonders if you carried the bag he got you, pins and all. he wonders if your date held open the door like he would have, or if he joked around with you like he did (kind of.)
rin wonders where you were. he wonders if you were okay.
and then, his phone rings.
your name lights up his screen and suddenly, he's not so exhausted. he answers a little too haistily on the 1st ring.
"hello?"
there's a short pause, but he can hear the way your breath comes in short huffs on the other side of the line. this was strange- the both of you had never called before.
"rin?" your voice is crackly in a way he could accredit to the poor reception wherever you were, but something in his heart wrenches and there's an undertone that is undeniably distress in your voice.
"yeah? what's up?" he's already bustling around his home, though, grateful he hasn't changed yet as he pulls out his shoes.
"are you doing anything?"
"no," he lies.
"i'm sorry then, 'cause i know it's late, but- um, yeah. i'm about to get on the train. like usual, just the night one. but, i don't want to bother you, so-"
"no. keep going."
another silence follows rin's words before you continue. "could you.. come here? i know it's dumb, askin' you to ride the train here just to come back with me but," and your voice cracks, "i don't really want to be alone right now."
rin exhales. he's already outside, walking briskly through the cold night air with his free hand stuffed in his jeans pockets as he makes his way to the train stop.
"i'm on my way."
‧̍̊ ˙ · 𓆝 . ° 。 ˚ 𓆛 ˚ 。 ° . 𓆞 · ˙ ‧̍̊
when rin gets on the night train, you're the only other passenger on board. you're huddled up in your usual seat with your knees drawn up to your chin and eyes misty with something dismal. you look at rin and he's heartbroken for you, because nothing should ever make you this upset.
but you offer him a weak grin and move to sit normally, patting his seat next to you. he notes that you are indeed carrying the same bag he got you.
the new distance isn't present when he takes his place beside you. in fact, he's so close tonight that he can almost feel your thigh brush his. he eyes you cautiously, unsure how to begin. thankfully, you answer his questions before he needs to ask.
"remember my date?" rin nods. how could he forget?
"it was kind of awful," you concede with a watery laugh. "he was all fine, at first- but i just wasn't interested. he asked for a second date, and i said no thanks- he just- he yelled at me. called me all sorts of things. i dunno."
his heart tightens in his chest as you keep going. "it's not a big deal but i didn't really- i'm not sure. i'm not sure."
he doesn't think too much about his next actions, as his hand curls around your shoulder. you're all too complacent, letting yourself be pulled into the warm fabric of his crewneck. he hopes you can hear his heartbeat pick up its pace. he hopes yours does the same.
rin allows you to bury yourself in his warmth, to acquaint yourself for a few moments before he starts talking. "last week i went to the grocery store and i saw this lady with her cats," he said.
you glance up at him quizically but his arm holds fast, keeping you there as he continues: "she was old. probably too old to be toting around all those groceries.
"i would've offered to help but then i took another look- she was ripped."
a muffled laugh escapes you. "for real?"
"yeah. i mean it."
"a ripped old lady with cats, huh? what was she getting?"
"blueberries."
he thinks he feels your smile against the fabric of his clothes. "blueberries. that's nice."
"and just a few days ago, i think, i was on my run and i passed by this apartment, right?"
"mhm."
"and i hear yelling. so i stop."
"yeah?"
"on the balcony of the apartment, there was this woman and some guy. they were in their 20s, i think. and she was screaming at him."
"oh? what about?"
your voice is thickening again, but this time with exhaustion. the occurrences of your day were finally weighing on you, rin presumes. he keeps talking.
"something about him being unfaithful. then she threw his gaming console off the balcony."
"oh," you say, with a slight yawn, "that sounds so funny. i wish i was there."
"me too."
rin really should break this habit he's beginning to form. it definitely isn't a great idea to share all his innermost thoughts with you always- but lucky for him, you seem too tired to notice the accidental compliment.
"good for her," you mumble.
"good for her," he repeats.
you tilt prop your chin up on him to meet his gaze. your eyes are heavy with exhaustion and bags are formed beneath your eyes, and your hair is frazzled and messy but rin thinks this might be the prettiest he's ever seen you.
you're dead on your feet, but you're still looking at him. you're feeling so many things and you're still you. his hand absentmindedly flutters accross the back of your head to flatten your hair as you begin to speak.
"you're so nice." is all you say. rin looks at you, incredulous.
"you are," you insist, breaking away from him for a moment with your hand pushing yourself off of his chest. "you wanted to help that old woman. you heard yelling and stopped in case someone needed help. you're here at 10pm after i messed everything up."
rin blinks.
you've always been the kind of person to make him think. you made him reconsider his own future, his capacity for love, his interest in romance- you made him think about it all. but there was one thing that was a constant, that he didn't think even you could make him reconsider- the fact that he wasn't a good person.
it's then that it dawns upon itoshi rin- he doesn't see himself as worth loving. his life's purpose was success, and without it, was he even worth caring about? and on top of all that, he was cruel.
he cared about no one. he was blunt, and he was unfriendly, and when he was in school people walked away. the neighborhood kids all hid from him, and his teammates never bothered to even try and introduce him to new faces anymore.
itoshi rin was mean and cruel, a fact that he had decided for himself and then been enforced by the people around him. itoshi rin was not worth anything without a gold medal to demonstrate his value. itoshi rin was not worth caring about, because he'd just hurt you. itoshi rin didn't think himself even capable of wanting anything but to win.
and itoshi rin was proven wrong the day he met you.
because he'd fallen for you, with your shoddy footwear and worn-out zip-up that could hardly be considered white anymore. he'd fallen for you and the way you always had something to say, and he'd fallen for you, who could see the art in anything- even hideous artwork made by unskilled 7-year-olds, even teenage boys who couldn't find it in themselves to admit that they loved you.
you must've changed him, he thinks, or at least brought out a part of him that he'd long since forgotten had existed. because now, on this train at 10 pm with you still staring at him with intent, tired eyes- he thinks he sees it, too, in a way that he thinks you might've been trying to get him to see from perhaps the very beginning.
he sees himself, itoshi rin, as artwork. and he sees you- the artist.
it's beautiful, how the world explodes into colour at that moment. the night sky outside the train window has never been quite so beautiful, and he thinks he can see all the stars in the world even though he's not even looking at them. his eyes are trained on yours, and there's nothing left to do, say, or realize, so he just pulls you back into himself and keeps talking.
"and then two days ago, i think, i was at practice. and my teammate opens his locker, and a squirrel falls out. nanase- that's his name- was terrified."
it's almost comical, how the roles have reversed. usually, you were the storyteller, and he was the patient listener. he doesn't remember the last time he spoke to someone in such a one-sided fashion for so long, but he doesn't really care anymore.
"apparently it was bachira. no one was really surprised."
he looks down at you, and you're finally asleep. your breathing is even, and he can only partially see your face. your cheeks are patchy from previous tears, but the way your features are relaxed amends for the hurt. his hand holds your head close, still, fingers absently massaging your scalp.
the silence carries on for a few beats. he watches your inhales and exhales when you do. when he finally talks, he's even quieter.
"i missed talking to you," he finally admits. it's almost as if he's admitting this to himself rather than you, with the way he leaves the words to hang in the air.
"so much," he adds, "it was fucking gross."
he continues to speak. perhaps this was his confession- he'd tell you his truths, the fact that he liked you, and the fact that he'd never be able to say it to your face. he doesn't see the harm, not on the empty night train with just him to hear.
"when we were all.. distant. i hated that. i had so much to say to you. i guess i always have. because," he lets an aggravated sigh, "i just didn't know.
"you're rubbing off on me, i guess. you and your stupid.. i dunno. just you. you make me so weird inside."
he pauses like he's waiting for you to say something, even though he knows you can't even register his words. he frowns and rewinds:
"that day. a week and a day ago. i left.
"you were so close to my face, so close to me- i dunno. i guess- i guess i just panicked. because i shouldn't like you. you're so.. you. and i'm nowhere near that. so i left.
"i wanted to kiss you. i want to all the time, it's fucking awful. when you told me about your date today? i hated every second of that. i just wanted to tell you but i couldn't. i don't know why, though.
"i still can't tell you. don't know if i will. but it's out there, now. i like you," rin laments, the last words foreign and unwelcome on his tongue.
"i like you. i like you a lot."
rin thinks his words should be followed by silence. he thinks that they'll hang and vanish in the air like his breathe, and he thinks it'll be gone forever, just like that. he thinks the next morning, he'll find a new morning routine and delete your contact.
but your breath hitches, and your body stiffens ever so slightly against rin's as his confession exits his lips. rin freezes, his hand falling dormant in the air behind your head.
you rise from his chest, and an empty cavity of dread is left in your place. the quiet is so poignant that you could hear a hairpin drop. he stares at you. you stare at him.
"rin," you start slowly, voice rough around the edges with sleep.
(the train rumbles distantly in the background. faintly, rin wonders when his stop would be.)
"you like me?"
he is silent. you blink once. then twice. and then you move. from your place next to him, you take his hand in both of yours and shift it to your lap.
"you like me."
it's not so much of a question now as it is an answer. your skin is cold against his, and it reminds him of the afternoon spent in your classroom where he learned of his limits for the first time.
"and you said you want to kiss me all the time," you continue, and rin thinks he'd be utterly humiliated if he wasn't so frozen.
"so why don't you?"
your question is one that lingers, hanging in the air like a heavy mist or smoke, and his lungs feel like they're being weighed down by the steeled sky.
you're right for asking, because why didn't he? why had he run, that day in your classroom? why had he let you grow so distant from him in the week that followed?
rin has always been one for pushing his limits. even when his body was broken over his sport, but he kept going because that was what was right to do. it was his purpose, and he didn't matter much outside of that.
but things were different now that he'd met you. rin decides that he just might be worth something more than a victory, because you look at him with a reverence, an affection, that tells him that he's maybe more than that.
you hold his hand in yours like it's glass, and your expression is soft with a curious lilt, and his hand is on your side and traveling to your back, and his other one is in your hair, and his lips are pressed on yours like he needs you, because fuck it, rin decides, he's never cared much for limitations anyway.
you kiss him back before long. it's messy and crude, and all teeth and bumping noses, and a long time in the making. you pull away before he does and he chases your lips like a starved man. but you duck your face into the crook of his neck, body as close as you could manage on the uncomfortable train seat. he feels you laugh into his neck, and he can't help the smile that spreads on his face.
"fucking finally," he says quietly, more to himself than you.
"finally," you agree, as the train slows to a stop. you glance up to check the destination- oh. it's your stop- your apartment block was only a short walk from here.
"this is where i am," you say, trying to find it in yourself to stand up. rin beats you to it, emerging from his seat and pulling you with him.
"i'm walking you home." he's no longer holding your hand, but his pinky finger is interlaced with yours, and he gives a surprisingly firm tug as he ushers you to the exit. "let's go."
you skitter along right behind him as the cold air rushes against his face, planting rosy, frosty kisses against his skin. you swing your joined arms with a wicked grin like you know it'll annoy him but he's not about to tell you to stop.
and if rin thought you were the prettiest in your classroom, or prettiest on the train, he was sorely mistaken because you're nothing short of gorgeous now, in the night air holding his hand, with a big, dopey grin on your face and his name on your lips.
he thinks he'd like to kiss you again, so he stops in his tracks on the sidewalk. you lurch to a halt, and call his name questioningly. he kisses you again because he can now, and you kiss him back, and he can do this again, and again, and again, because what's stopping him now?
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the weeks following the emergence of your newly formed relationship are nothing short of blissful.
neither of you discussed your relationship status- it was just implied that he was your boyfriend now, because rin is almost sure he'd implode if he had to consider his feelings any longer.
your routines had both amended themselves around each other. every day, you'd meet on the morning train. he'd come to your classroom and sit through your lessons with you, and the both of you would go to either your apartment, his house, or whatever other destination was on one of your to-do lists. he'd go off for practice in the afternoons, but he never missed you too much.
he knew your texts would be waiting to be answered, without fail, and he knew you'd always be waiting for his call. and it felt nice to have someone- someone who cared for him, someone to call his own, someone who waited for him, someone he'd won.
rin thinks that he'd follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked, and especially if you didn't. he sees it as mature and responsible- someone has to keep you in check. you just call him clingy.
this is how he finds himself at a farmer's market. it's bustling, and nostalgic, and crowded, and probably not his scene. but you're there, so he'll make it work.
"oh, there's so many things. uh, let's see," you fumble with your phone, pulling up your list from your phone, "naomi can't have peanuts. asami is allergic to.. strawberries? how sad. and hiroshi will probably start crying if he sees cucumber. god, kids get weirder and weirder by the day."
you've been roped into helping host the graduation party for this year's oldest elementary students, most of which you knew by name. you'd been stuck with the food prep which rin didn't really understand assigning to you, since it's presumably the hardest task and you're not even a real employee.
"what's left, then?"
"uh.. i think we can make blueberry pie or something. and if they don't like it, it's not my fault because i tried."
"i'm not helping."
"no, no. you are. you don't have a choice in this."
he scoffs, and is about to reply, when-
"ms. teacher! hi, hi! hi!"
a little tiny pair of legs attached to a blur of brown hair as a small boy hurtles into your legs, capturing you into a hug the best he can. you let out a huff as the wind is knocked out of you.
looking down, rin recognizes the same kid- the same one who had made the watercolour painting of him and was surprised that they spoke german in 'germ-in-ey'.
"haru? hi yourself! what're you doing here?"
you almost instantly kneel down to meet his eyes and haru immediately giggles and taps the side of your head. "bonk, bonk!"
you laugh. "that isn't an answer, buddy."
the boy rocks back and forth on the heels of his feet with his hands fidgeting with each other in front of him, and rin is both enamoured by your endless warmth and feeling very out of place, standing awkwardly behind you like a scared child.
"my mama runs a fruit shore. yum, fruit! 'nd, i get to ex-spore! 'cause they're all busy with the fruit shore!"
"really? how cool!"
"yeah, yeah! 'nd, why are you here ms. teacher?"
you pretend to be in deep contemplation, tapping your finger on your chin. "well, if i tell you, you've got to keep it a secret, 'kay?"
"pinky swear! swear it!"
"it's for a surprise party."
haru looks like you just told him nuclear secrets. "oh my gosh!"
he squirms where he stands, running around in circles. "a sur-pies party! a sur-pies party!"
and then he stills, looking at you with the utmost serious expression that cracks a grin onto even rin's face. "i swear i won't tell anyone about your sur-pies party."
"thank you very much, haru. i appreciate it," you reply, with equal seriousness.
and then, haru's eyes wander over to rin.
"mr. germ-in-ey!"
rin cringes. he wasn't mentally prepared for this, not today. "hi."
haru seems to have forgotten that people from germany tend to speak german, because he converses with rin like there's no implicit barrier there. "hey, hi! i didn't know you went outside the school!"
rin's brows furrow and you stand, laughing. "what?"
"you're always in ms. teacher's classroom. in the back, all sad."
he frowns. "i'm not sad."
haru surveys him, and he feels a little ridiculous getting once-overed by a 7-year-old. "no," haru agrees, "not anymore!"
at this, you chime in. "oh? what changed?"
rin glares at you over his shoulder and you return with a bemused expression. haru mimics your previous posture, with his hands on his chin like he's stroking a beard.
"you guys are in love!"
you freeze, shooting up straight with wide eyes. rin stares at the kid.
"come again, haru?" you manage to choke out, perhaps hoping that you heard him wrong.
"you guys are in L-O-E-V-E!" haru sings the words out, spelling it wrong but still reinforcing his previous statement.
rin is flabbergasted, and you choke on your saliva. bystanders are beginning to look at the scene unfolding, and you attempt to straighten yourself out while rin takes a step away.
"uh, haru," you say, letting out a breath and an awkward laugh, "why don't you go find your mom? tell her i say hi."
haru hums before nodding like he'd entirely forgotten the previous conversation. he scuttles away with the speed of a scared cat. rin directs his gaze to you and shoots you a look.
"your students are so fucking strange."
you sigh, "yeah. yeah, they are."
he pauses. and lets out the heaviest, most resigned sigh he thinks he's ever managed before. "but they're not wrong."
you look at him blankly, before you process his words. and then you're positively beaming as rin makes a face.
"ugh, gross. forget i said that. that was vile."
"awh, rin!" you say, disregarding his statement, "you're so cute! so, so cute!"
you close the distance between him and you, and he ducks his face away but makes no real effort to move. "i hate you so much."
"i don't think so," you hum, getting infinitely closer to his face. he's sure you can feel the heat radiating off him at your proximity, as you continue: "i think that you are obsessed with me."
your lips are ghosting the corner of his mouth and he doesn't realize he was holding his breath until you pull away, eyes suddenly wide with realization.
"oh my god," you say, all the teasing removed from your voice and instead replaced with a daunting sobriety, "haru is going to tell the entire class. the entire school."
rin blinks. "okay? and?"
"no, you don't get it!" you grab his arm, a genuine terror that is almost comical shining in them. "i'm going to be trampled."
your boyfriend shrugs. "i don't see how that's my issue."
"you idiot. you come with me every day."
"so?"
"you're never going to know peace again."
rin finally gets it, and he frowns deeper than he thinks he ever has. "i'm breaking up with you, then. no way am i dealing with that."
you roll your eyes and sigh, and rin laughs- it's quiet and short but real and genuine, and he sees the love brimming in your eyes as you follow his movements.
"god, i love you."
your words catch him off guard. but he takes your hand as a response. rin doesn't think he can say it back, not right now- but you know he does, and this time, so does he.
because rin loves you, and you love him, simple as that. there are no limits, there are no rules- just brushstrokes on a canvas, just an artist and a muse.
in that moment, in the middle of the bustling farmer's market, you and rin are all alone, and he thinks to himself: he would spend forever counting the passengers on a train if it meant he would meet you.
he'd spend years if he had to, waiting for his girl, the one with a white worn-out zip-up and shoes that were on their last few wears, and a denim bag smeared with paint and decorated with pins, and a smile to rival the sun.
he'd give it all to meet you again, and he'd give even more if you asked. in truth, there's nothing he wouldn't do to fall in love with you all over again- but he doesn't need to imagine, because you make it happen every day.
because truly, it may have started in just a few mornings, but it would always end with you.
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(3 weeks later, mrs. sato appears on the morning train again.
you and rin are seated in conversation, bodies turned towards each other as he listens to your words. you're both interrupted when the train doors shut and a voice calls your name.
"ah, what have i missed! do my eyes deceive me, or is there a lovely new couple in my presence?"
you grin at her arrival. "oh my gosh, mrs. sato?"
the older woman hobbles over to sit down in front of you. "you have so much to tell me," she states, wrinkled smile gleaming with childlike joy.
rin frowns. why is it such a common trend to make him the 3rd wheel in his own relationship?
rin listens in as you narrate the course of your relationship, thankfully skipping out some more personal pieces, with a pink face and blood warming the tips of his ears.
and in turn, you learn that in mrs. sato's absence, she'd been partying all over the bahamas on a cruise, making a few crude and suggestive jokes about ship crew boys. "ah, but i can't say that anymore, can i? not with your boyfriend here. girl talk."
rin crosses his arms over his chest, looking and feeling a bit ridiculous with your bag on his laugh. mrs. sato cackles. he thinks she reminds him of a witch, just a little.
"ah, well, i hope you didn't miss me too much, dear. i'm off again- to jamaica this time!" mrs. sato exclaims and you smile supportively even though rin can tell you're more amused than anything.
"when do you leave?"
"tonight," she laughs, "i'm going to the airport right now."
when mrs. sato leaves and bids you and rin farewell with a hug and wink respectively. rin looks at you questioningly. "i can't believe you speak to her."
you grimace. "she's terrifying. i think if i wasn't friendly she'd hunt me down."
"probably. wouldn't be hard."
"i should send you to jamaica with her."
"i'd take some cruise boys over you any day."
"i'd pick them over you, too"
rin smiles. his hand taps a rhythm onto your knee. "so what're we doing today?"
"after school, i think it's finally time i buy new shoes. it's been long enough."
he frowns. "i like your shoes."
"they're like, a million years old. there's a hole in the sole."
"oh."
"you can pick them, since you clearly seem to think your fashion sense is better than mine."
"it is, actually."
"you're horrible, y'know that?"
"yep."
the train stops, and you stand before he does. you extend your hand for him to take.
he takes it without hesitation.)
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##: if you read this long, hey! writing this actually made me insane i'm not gonna lie! but it's finally out, and genuinely would mean the world if u left a like, reblog, or comment :,) feedback keeps me motivated!
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