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#especially when i deny this for 2 decades
incognit0slut · 11 months
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Right Kind of Wrong (4)
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She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.
Part summary: Y/n and Spencer's unexpected reunion ends in a quarrel. wc: 4k
Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, blood, graphic details of murder
Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14
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SPENCER CONSIDERED HIMSELF AS A GOOD PROFILER. His background in psychology was a strong contribution to becoming the expert that he was now. He also believed he had a very strong sense of detail in his work, especially when it came to assessing body language. It took a lot of careful observation and attention to interpret it correctly, and with all the experiences he went through this past decade, it came to him naturally.
But to observe meant to be focused and right now he was anything but that.
"Ms. L/n, this is Dr. Spencer Reid."
How could he focus when he couldn’t believe what he was seeing? Spencer had always been fascinated by the concept of the afterlife, the mystery and unknown of what went beyond death. Granted, he had never encountered anything superstitious, but maybe this was as close as he could get to ever experiencing that because right now it felt as if he was seeing a ghost.
The idea of meeting the stranger he tried to forget never crossed his mind, especially in a situation he least expected. While he wouldn't completely deny the possibility of coincidence, he tended to be more skeptical and cautious about things that push the bounds of rationality and reason. But now that she was right here in the flesh, he couldn't keep his eyes off of her.
She had the kind of face that made you stop to look, the sudden pause in a person's natural mind when they glanced her way. Delicate face, high cheekbones, full luscious lips. But beyond the appeal of her beauty, there was deep exhaustion in her eyes. Her shoulders were tense. Her cheeks were flushed. Her chest rose in rapid movements as the pace of her breathing increased.
There was a sense of agitation in her posture, a clear sign of anxiousness. He could decipher that all too well because it was exactly what he was experiencing now. A storm of panic suddenly rose inside him, a sense of overwhelming dread and anxiety taking over his body and mind, leaving him feeling as if he was trapped in a fight-or-flight mode.
Y/n opened her mouth, closed it again, then tilted her head. His eyes scanned the crease on her forehead as if she was deep in thought before she threw Morgan a hesitant look.
His panic intensified.
"Well, actually—"
"Nice to meet you!"
Both of their heads snapped at him. He couldn't blame the way they were gawking, because between the panic and the shock still lingering in his system, his vocal cords managed to change his voice into a higher pitch. He cleared his throat and smoothed down the suit he was wearing, calmed his breathing, and carefully lifted his other hand.
He gave her a wave.
"It's nice to meet you."
He saw her looking at him warily before she calmed herself, crossing her arms against her chest in an act of defense. She eyed his hand as it settled back to his side.
"Let me guess," she started, quirking an eyebrow. "The number of pathogens shared during a handshake is staggering?"
There was a heavy pause as they both held their gaze. Morgan glanced between the two. "Do you know each other?"
The air suddenly charged with tension, a thick weight that settled in her chest before she looked away. "I suppose not." She walked towards the door, pushing it ajar. "After you, boys."
Morgan threw her a skeptical look before stepping into the room. The moment Spencer stepped forward, her eyes narrowed at him suspiciously. An overwhelming sense of anxiety, coupled with a feeling of wanting to hide took over him as he shuffled past her, looking straight ahead.
The two agents sat by the table. She watched as Morgan observed her with an immense amount of curiosity while the man sitting beside him finally had the courage to look at her. The moment he lifted his eyes and settled them on her own, she couldn't help but notice a slight shift in his demeanor. It was as if in the midst of trying to calm his nerves, a switch suddenly clicked inside him, showcasing a very focused and intent look that commanded attention and respect.
She took the seat right in front of him.
Morgan's eyes swept over to her. "Ms. L/n—"
"Y/n is fine."
"Y/n," Morgan started again. "Can you tell us what happened?"
She gave Spencer one last look before focusing her attention on the other man. "I don't understand why I have to repeat this process again."
"People's recollections and perceptions of things can often change over time. It also helps us better to understand the situation," he explained. "What happened before you found Mr. Lynch?"
"Technically, Eric was the one who found him." She placed her hands on the table, intertwining them as she recalled what had happened a few hours ago for the second time. "Jamison called me before everything happened. It was a short, desperate call and it ended too quickly after he asked for help. I ran back to his office after that."
"What exactly did you hear on that call?"
"Heavy breathing. He sounded..." She trailed off, a look of forlorn set in her eyes. "He sounded as if he was in pain. There was also a loud crash in the back."
"Was there any other voice besides him?"
"I didn't hear anyone else."
"And you're the only one he called?"
"I'm not sure," she answered truthfully, shrugging her shoulders. "He might've called Eric as well."
The two men shared a look. She waited for either of them to respond and was taken aback when Spencer regarded her the next question. "What were you doing prior to the call?"
She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.
Something about the way he was watching her vexed her. One moment he was scurrying off trying to diminish any relation he had with her, the next thing she knew he was addressing her with a keen interest, and not in the way he had on that eventful night. There was wonder and excitement on their first encounter, but all she could notice now was the intensity of him assessing her as if he was trying to analyze her.
She wondered whether he had two different personalities.
"Ms. L/n?"
She steadied her gaze before correcting him, "Y/n."
Then she tried to think back on what happened before the rush of panic took over her body. She remembered recalling her conversation with Oliver and how declining his obvious interest was the right thing to do. And then somehow her mind manage to reminisce about the last man she was involved with, who ironically, was sitting right in front of her.
So basically, I was thinking of you.
"I was walking to my car in the parking lot," she finally said.
"Did you see anything suspicious before you got the call? Or when you ran back to his office?"
"Not that I was aware of—" There was a moment of sudden clarity. It was like a rush of insight and understanding, and everything clicked into focus like a puzzle or a riddle. The sudden realization made her heart race with disbelief and fear at the same time, and her mind started to race with all the possibilities and connections it had discovered. "Someone did push me in the parking lot."
Morgan frowned at her. "Push you?"
"Somebody accidentally brushed me and I lost my balance," she explained, her brows knitting in concentration as she tried to recall that exact memory. "He was tall and... fit? He wore everything black and when I called out on his lack of manner, he ran away."
"Did you see his face?"
She shook her head. "It was pretty much covered with his clothes. He was wearing a hoodie, I think."
"Was there any other thing that stood out from him?"
"No, I don't remember anything significant. After that Jamison called, then everything happened so fast." She gave them a resigned look. "I'm not even sure if it has anything to do with what happened."
Morgan gave her a reassuring smile. "It's fine. Any information might help us with this investigation."
She nodded, and before they could ask further questions, she inquired about a curiosity of her own. "May I ask why the FBI is investigating this case?"
There was a feeling of great importance and a weight of significance as Spencer clarified, "We suspect Mr. Lynch's murder is linked to another case that happened not long ago."
She blinked her eyes in bewilderment. "You're telling me there's a possible serial killer behind these two murders?"
"Yes," he confirmed, his words seeming very heavy. "The nature of these deaths are very similar, we think that the Unsub has a motive behind all the killings."
"Unsub?"
"It's an abbreviation for Unknown Subject, and it's mainly just a code word that represents the suspect."
She nodded once again, then eyed both of the agents sitting across from her.
"Is the death of my boss linked to Kevin Marshall?" When the two men narrowed their eyes suspiciously, she stopped herself from rolling her eyes. "I'm a journalist, I was working on that case—well, before it got assigned to someone else."
"What do you know of Mr. Marshall's case?" Morgan asked cautiously.
"Nothing much, really. I simply knew he was found dead with some kind of writing on his body." She looked away. "I saw a glimpse of something written on Jamison's arm, it's not that hard to put two and two together."
Morgan regarded her with a nod. "We do suspect these deaths are done by the same Unsub."
Spencer then gave her a look, one that clearly indicated his opinion of her. "And we highly appreciate it if you could keep this information confidential," he requested. "We don't want the media to compromise our investigation until we have further information."
She frowned at the charge behind his words. "You think I'm going to write a story about what happened?"
"Isn’t that what you do for a living?"
It took a lot of self-control for her not to throw the pen sitting in front of her across the room.
"With all due respect, Dr. Reid, I find it offending that you think I would write a story on the murder of someone I personally know."
"I—Ms. L/n, I wasn't trying to accuse you of being inconsiderate."
"Well it seemed exactly like that to me."
The silence after that was deafening. It was a sort of heavy, oppressive stillness that hung in the air that it was so brittle it could practically snap, and if it didn't, one of them might. It was terribly uncomfortable that Morgan could feel the tension building as the seconds dragged by without a sound. "Are you sure you don't know each other?"
"Yes."
"Yes."
Doubt was written across his face. There was a sense of discomfort that came along with the uneasiness from the escalating tension as he glanced between the other two people in the room. He gladly let out a sigh when his discomfort was saved by the sudden call coming from his phone.
"Saved by the bell," he muttered under his breath, which didn't go unnoticed by the two people who were now glaring at him. He simply stood up from his chair and moved toward the door, pulling it open before answering his call with a firm yet flirtatious voice. "Talk to me, baby girl."
She wrinkled her nose at the pet name as the door closed behind him. "Was that his girlfriend?"
"No," Spencer responded. "That's the technical analyst in our team. They have a unique way of addressing each other."
The sound of his gruff voice suddenly pierced her, and it was then that she realized she was left alone with the man she never thought of ever seeing again. Her attention went back to him as her eyes slowly wandered across his face, noticing the way he was observing her.
One of the things that had always caught her interest was his disheveled hair. It was untamed, the mass of wild, chocolate-colored curls brushing against the collar of his shirt was something that often caught her attention. Then there was his attire, wearing a nice fitting dark suit over an even darker button-down and a tie wrapped around his slender neck made him look very professional.
But it was his eyes that stood out the most.
There was something in his gaze that seemed to unnerve her tonight. The warm, hazel orbs that greeted her in the dim light of the bar seemed darker now with a certain intensity engraved in their depth. The man in front of her was different from the man she had left that night. The man who sat alone at the bar didn't have the same air of authority he had at this moment. Spencer Reid after hours was adorable, awkwardly charming, and very much easy to approach.
Dr. Spencer Reid, on the other hand, still managed to keep his calm while being very serious, even after his flustered episode from their unexpected encounter. The soft stubble on his jaw also helped the somber look he was going after, which if she was being completely honest, made him look even more handsome than he already was.
It was a good thing he couldn't read her mind.
"So," she started, crossing a leg on top of the other. "FBI agent, huh?"
He addressed her with a nod. "A profiler, to be exact."
"And what does a profiler do?"
He looked surprised by her interest but managed to explain the nature of his job. "We study and analyze crimes and criminals through an analysis of their behavior to understand the reasoning and motive behind them."
She hummed in response. "You know, I thought you were a medical doctor." Confusion passed across his face before she continued, "You have a lot of certificates."
"...so you do know my name."
"It's hard not to when it's plastered everywhere on your wall."
He paused for a moment, assessing the weight behind her words. "Then why did you call me by the wrong name that night?"
She went completely still. She knew the best way to avoid a question was to throw in another one, so she uncrossed her arms and leaned over the table.
"Why did you pretend like we didn't know each other?"
His body tensed as he felt the discomfort crawling on his skin. The overwhelming feeling of uneasiness and tension wrapped inside him was so intense it was smothering him.
"It is true though," he defended. "We don't know each other very well."
She couldn't stop the scoff slipping out of her mouth. "Ah, yes. I may not know the city you grew up in but I do know what position you like in bed."
"How could you even conclude that?" He choked, clearly dumbfounded by the crude and unexpected comment. "We've only been together once."
"In which you put me on your lap the whole time."
She knew there was a truth in her notion by the way his cheeks slightly flared in embarrassment. He simply cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Listen, I think it's best we keep what happened that night between us."
"And why is that?"
He finally tore his eyes off her.
How could he explain that something in this occurrence never happened to him without feeling self-conscious? That she was the first person he was sexually involved with no relation whatsoever? That sleeping with a stranger never happened to him in his thirty-five years of life?
And how could he explain he preferred not to share one of the most unforgettable nights of his life with his colleagues? How could he explain he wanted to keep his personal life private without offending her?
But before he could explain himself, she was already jumping to conclusions at his lack of an answer.
"Is it because you're ashamed that a smart, hot-shot FBI agent like you spent a night with a mere journalist like me?"
His eyes went wide. "What? No—"
"Are we done here?" She quickly cut in, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the weight of his gaze. "Do you have any more questions?"
"Of course, I do—"
"Regarding my witness."
"I..." He frowned, then shook his head. "No, I suppose I don't."
"Great. It was nice talking to you, Dr. Reid."
The bottom of her chair scraped against the hardwood floor as she got up, staggering toward the door. One might say she needed to work on her pettiness, but she had always been stubborn when it came to feeling unreasonable. So before she could leave, she turned on her heel, pointed a finger at him, and narrowed her eyes before she sneered, "And just so you know, do not flatter yourself. You weren't even that good in bed."
She threw him one last glare before stalking toward the door, tugging it with utmost force only to find Morgan standing in the way. "Agent Morgan." A rush of heat coursed through her body. "I believe I can go now?"
He looked between the two of them with curiosity. "Yes, of course. Thank you for your time, Ms. L/n." The menacing look in her eyes beneath her embarrassment urged him to correct himself, "Y/n."
She then left the two men behind with the last thread of dignity she had. It didn't take a trained profiler to understand she left the room fuming with anger.
Spencer watched her leave. A sudden overwhelming sense of shock and disbelief flew through him, leaving him in a state of surprise and confusion. He was so stunned he didn't know how to respond while the woman he wanted nothing more than to follow behind had practically tarnished his self-esteem and bruised his ego.
And to make things worst, his teammate was watching him with intense interest, eyes twinkling with amusement as he leaned against the door frame.
He expected a lot of things to happen tonight, but he did not expect it would end the way it did. Suddenly feeling drained, he slowly got up in a daze. It felt as if he had recently gone through the most amount of emotions he had ever experienced in just one night.
The only way he could forget what had happened—albeit momentarily—was to put his mind on other matters. Like the current case at hand. Like the crime scene a few rooms away. He needed to focus on more important things and he couldn't do that with his friend constantly finding amusement in his misery.
"There are a lot of questions in my head right now, pretty boy."
He stalked toward the door with a newfound resentment. "Good, keep them to yourself."
Morgan's laughter followed him out of the room.
>> NEXT PART
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taglist
@comboboo @sebastiansstanswhore
a/n: i am today’s years old on finding out that having a taglist is a thing😭 tell me if you want to be added please i am such an amateur on this app.
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7s3ven · 4 months
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… [ MASTER LIST ] ༊*·˚
who i write for ,
Harry Potter - Slytherin gang (fancast too), Golden trio, Tom Riddle, Cedric Diggory
Hunger Games - Cato Hadley + The Careers, President Snow, Peeta, Finnick O'dair
Maze Runner - Minho, Thomas
Percy Jackson - Luke Castellan (<3), Percy Jackson, Clarisse La Rue, Stoll brothers
Miscellaneous - Gilbert Blythe (AWAE), Tristan Dugray (Gilmore Girls)
HARRY POTTER…
- Tom Riddle
OBSESSION
IN WHICH… Tom Riddle is partnered with a Gryffindor for potions. He expects them to crush every assignment sent their way, but what he doesn’t expect is him falling in love.
- Theodore Nott : most popular !!
ONE CUP OF COFFEE
IN WHICH… Theodore Nott can’t stand the idea of actually falling in love but he finds himself questioning his choices after a rather comforting conversation with a Hufflepuff.
- Christmas specials featuring,
Tom Riddle,
LAST CHRISTMAS
IN WHICH… Tom can’t fall in love, he shouldn’t fall in love. So why does he love Y/N L/N with her yellow robes, doe eyes, and her obsession with snow so much that he’d kill anyone in his path to get to her?
( last christmas - wham! )
Harry Potter,
BUY ME PRESENTS
IN WHICH… Y/N L/N’s situationship, Matteo Riddle, isn’t the best boyfriend material and when he forgets to buy her a Christmas present, she finally breaks it off. Luckily, she knows someone who’ll do everything Matteo didn’t.
( buy me presents - sabrina carpenter )
Oliver Wood,
ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU
IN WHICH… Nothing would make Oliver Wood happier than getting a new broom as his Christmas present. That, or Y/N Malfoy finally noticing him. When the two collide at Hogsmeade, Oliver is overjoyed. Perhaps this Christmas, he’ll get two gifts.
( all i want 4 christmas is u - mariah carey )
Cedric Diggory,
CINDY LOU WHO
IN WHICH… Y/N L/N helps her crush and longtime best friend, Cedric Diggory, get with another girl. Deep down, she knows she’ll never be the bright and bubbly girl Cedric wants. She’ll always be the cunning snake with a knack for starting fights.
( cindy lou who - sabrina carpenter )
Draco Malfoy,
SANTA, TELL ME
IN WHICH… Draco Malfoy no longer enjoys Christmas, especially not when he has to stay at Hogwarts while all his friends are gone. But a certain bright-eyed Hufflepuff is glad to keep him company.
( santa, tell me - ariana grande )
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗
HUNGER GAMES…
- Cato Hadley
LACY
IN WHICH… Clove Kentwell can’t help but compare herself to Cato’s ex. They may have dated a year ago, but she sees the way he still looks at her.
( lacy - olivia rodrigo )
JEALOUS GIRL
IN WHICH… Y/N L/N grows jealous over Cato and Glimmer’s new bond yet denies any sign of anger despite it being obvious (part of a book)
( jealous girl - lana del rey )
DANCING WITH YOUR GHOST
IN WHICH… Cato Hadley and Y/N L/N accept there can only be one winner. The Capitol watches as one falls and the other leaves the arena with a furious heart, not quite moving on.
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗
MAZE RUNNER…
- Minho
IF WE GO DOWN, WE GO DOWN TOGETHER
IN WHICH… Minho firmly believes in the saying ‘if we go down, then we go down together’ especially when his long-time crush, and best friend, gets stuck in the maze.
( paris - the chainsmokers )
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗
PERCY JACKSON…
- Luke Castellan
NOBODY’S SON, NOBODY’S DAUGHTER
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4
IN WHICH… Y/N L/N, after spending a decade at Camp Half-Blood, still remains unclaimed. Luckily, Luke is there to keep her company as her good friend. And to, perhaps, provide a bit more.
( chemtrails over the country club - lana del rey )
HELL-FIRE
part 1 / part 2 (in progress)
HELL-FIRE SPIN OFF
IN WHICH… Y/N doesn’t want to admit it, but perhaps she and the mischievous son of Hermes have more in common than she originally thought.
( hellfire - the hunchback of notre dame )
POPULAR
IN WHICH… Y/N is tired of being bullied her whole life so she makes a deal with Luke. As long as she does his bidding, he’ll make her popular.
( popular - the weeknd )
THE GRUDGE
IN WHICH… Y/N L/N can’t forgive Luke for his crimes despite loving him more than she loves herself.
( the grudge - olivia rodrigo ) UR MY LOVER
IN WHICH... Camp Half-Blood has its very own band to entertain themselves. Most of the campers aren’t sure where they get their electricity for their instruments but one thing they are certain about is that the substitute lead singer and lead guitarist definitely have a thing for each other.
( lover - taylor swift + shawn mendes ) POISON & TOXIN
IN WHICH... Luke commits the unthinkable and Y/N no longer wants any part in his life. Unfortunately for her, Luke isn’t ready to let her go.
( mad woman - taylor swift ) DRIVING LESSONS
IN WHICH… Luke attempts to teach Percy how to drive and, in the process, almost crashes into Luke’s long time crush. But maybe he can spin it in his favor.
MY LOVE
IN WHICH… the half-blood campers live in a world where everybody is granted a soulmate. Everybody but the favoured child of Aphrodite, who was always destined to live a life without true love.
( my love, mine, all mine - mitski )
EVERY1 WANTS HIM
IN WHICH… Y/N L/N realizes she didn’t the only girl hopelessly in love with Luke. And when she finally lets him go, that’s when he decides to reciprocate her precious feelings.
( slut! - taylor swift )
PEN PALS - trailer
pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3
ATHENA'S GIRL - trailer
part 1 / part 2 / part 3
( warrior of the mind )
- Connor Stoll
UNBEARABLE
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songmingisthighs · 1 month
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Beefcake Raccoon
group : ateez
pairing : yeosang × reader (ft. boyfriend!jongho)
genre : smut
wc : 6.5 k
tw : mdni, explicit smut, unprotected sex, consensual sex, slight m × m (ofc between jongsang), fingering, cum tasting, dirty talk, cowgirl, creampie, mentions and description of jongho's junk, idk what else to tag here ngl
a/n : pt. 1 of an impulsive mini series with @bro-atz and @skteezcursed. pt. 2 and 3 will be added here once they drop! and yes, i call yeosang beefcake raccoon. how can i nawt when he looks like this ??? and yea i kinda went overboard with this because i had planned on writing 2.5-3k but here we are
a/a/n : it's 12.38 am and i'm sleepy and still sick as fuck and i had the sudden raging NEED to purchase all of the aniteez keyring. which i might do. idk if this is my manic episode making a comeback or me having impulse control issue
buy me coffee ?
beefcake raccoon | concrete bear | pt. iii
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Yeosang isn't really one to butt into other people's business, not even when certain things affect him personally.
For example, he never really voiced out how much he didn't like the way Hongjoong would come into his room, steal his supplements, and just leave things a mess. Mind you, he has no problem with letting the older guy take a couple pills or tablets from what could only be described as a collector's mountain. Heck, he's a firm believer in sharing whatever they own especially with people Yeosang already thought of as family. He just didn't like the way Hongjoong tended to leave some of the bottles not properly screwed. He hates seeing things not properly screwed. So he would just take a breath and clean up after the captain.
Another example is when a tornado came barrelling in. And no, it's not a real tornado which would have probably been better. Yeosang didn't voice out his complaints when his best friend of almost a decade suddenly came by the dorm he shared with Yunho only to kick him out. "Yunho and I are in this small gaming tournament and we need to beat this son of a bitch," Wooyoung said as he set up his gaming stuff on the dining table with Yunho who stopped momentarily and furrowed his eyebrows at this frantic friend, "You do know punchpunch483 is 12 years old, right?" which resulted in Wooyoung glaring at him, "A punk is a punk no matter the age, I will not stand the disrespect that's why he and his guild are going down so deep in the ground he can say hi to his grandpa." At that point, Yeosang simply clocked out of the conversation, dejectedly resigning to the fact that he wasn't going to be able to just watch his show in his bed and fall asleep to it.
There were some conflicts in Yeosang's brain, however. One good thing about the dorm Wooyoung shared was the fact that he lives with a workaholic nomad and an introverted busybody. One bad thing about the dorm Wooyoung shared was the fact that said dorm is often occupied by a girl Yeosang has a crush on and that girl is dating one of his other best friends.
Yeosang considers Jongho to be one of the luckiest men to be alive to be dating you. You, who in his mind is the most adorable sweetheart of a human being to have ever lived. It wasn't like you were the most polite person what with the names you can throw towards people you dislike and mutter towards rude strangers and the screeching laugh you sometimes let out when someone told you a stupid joke. Everything about you seemed so charming in Yeosang's eyes even when you were being touchy with the friend he was oh so jealous of. Sometimes Yeosang wonders, in his existential crisis-ridden thoughts at 3 am, the chances of the two of you being in the same lifetime. He wouldn't say that he was in love with you, but he wouldn't deny that he would often daydream about what it would be like to be with you, to be the one kissing you and to be the one getting back hugs from you. Well, he wouldn't deny it to himself.
So another good thing about Wooyoung's dorm is probably the fact that he could see and interact with you. But one other bad thing is the fact that sometimes he felt like Jongho knew how he thinks about you and that unnerves him. So he tends to avoid moments where you and Jongho are together because he can never seem to control the longing expression on his face and Jongho would always send him a knowing look and he knew one day he would just crack like an egg under hydraulic pressure.
It seemed like his resolve wasn't faring any better because when he first came by the dorm, he saw you on top of Jongho's lap on the couch, kissing him all over his face and whining. He knew he should at least expect to be met with you and Jongho being all over each other, but maybe not to this extent. The sound of him coming in didn't seem to deter either of you from your... Activities.
Whatever dirty thoughts passed Yeosang's head were almost immediately pushed away however when he saw Jongho pushing you away from him gently and sighing, "I told you I can't do this tonight," he said which earned him a scoff from you, "You've been saying that for the past four days, Jongho and frankly I'm starting to can't do it anymore," you said before pushing yourself off of your boyfriend completely. "That is not even grammatical," Jongho chuckled and you only flipped him off before turning to retire to Jongho's room only to pause when you saw Yeosang.
Yeosang's heart skipped a beat when he saw your frown turn into a bright smile, squealing and hugging him tightly. "Raccoon!" You called out happily. Yeosang never knew why, but you had seemed to start calling him 'beefcake raccoon'. Well, you did explain that it was because he was, in your own words, 'beefy' and his hair for his latest comeback made him look like a raccoon so in a sense, your logic did make sense. What doesn't seem to make sense is how you only call him and your boyfriend with adorable yet odd animal names. To you, Jongho was your concrete bear and Yeosang was your beefcake raccoon which pissed Wooyoung and San off but maybe that's because San is a jealous cat and Wooyoung wanted to be called foxy mama and you scolded them for being so relentless.
Despite his nerves, Yeosang grinned and hugged you back gently, not being able to stop himself from inhaling the scent of your shampoo and enjoying your warmth against his body. "Hi (y/n), is something wrong?" Yeosang asked as you both pulled away. At the mention of something wrong, your frown returned and you snapped your head to glare at your boyfriend who was still just sitting there, smiling innocently as if he hadn't denied you sex for four days straight. "Oh something is very wrong but it's with your buddy Choi Jongho over there. I'm starting to think he's no longer turned on by me or by any vagina-owning creature on earth," you hissed. "Okay you can't say things like that because some animals also own vaginas and I'm not into bestiality," Jongho scolded. At that moment, Yeosang thought he should just go to Wooyoung's room because he felt like he was being dragged into people's business and as fun as it is talking about kinks that could possibly lead him to know yours, he was not about to delve into this particular discussion. Luckily, you threw your arms up in the air and turned to him again, "Seriously Yeosang, if you were Jongho, would you choose vocal recording over sex?" Yeosang's eyes widened and he almost blurted out that he would never choose anything over you but thankfully Jongho beat him into answering you, "I'm telling you, Hongjoong hyung has been riding my ass with this new demo and you know how he is when inspiration struck," Jongho tried to reason. With a roll of your eyes you walked away to Jongho's room but not before yelling out, "Well, at least something's riding you, you cocky bastard!"
Jongho seemed unbothered, chuckling by himself as he watched your figure retreat. "You're not following her?" Yeosang asked, looking back and forth between the couple. Jongho simply shook his head, "Nah, she needs time to just... Cool off and I need to resist the temptation because Hongjoong hyung will be pissed if I come into the studio tired and hoarse," Yeosang nodded in understanding because he does understand what Jongho meant, having been on the receiving end of Hongjoong's wrath in the past for being, in Hongjoong's words, unprofessional, unprepared, and unremarkably disrespectful to people's time. But still, Yeosang felt bad for you and he didn't like seeing you pissed like that which was shown by the way he stared in the direction you went to for quite some time before he excused himself to rest in Woyooung's room, missing the way Jongho was staring at him knowingly with a smug smirk on his face.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Yeosang thought that his involvement in your relationship with Jongho would end that night but when he woke up at 7 am the next day, he was met with the sight of Jongho's door open and as he passed the room, he saw Jongho tucking you in and stroking your hair and taking particular focus in the way his friend's shoulder drop when he sighed in disappointment.
Feeling like Jongho could use a moment, Yeosang just quietly tiptoed to the kitchen and helped himself to Wooyoung's stash of good coffee and started brewing.
Soon enough, Jongho showed up and sat down on the stool of the kitchen counter while opening his phone to check his text message, waiting for the manager to inform him that the car had arrived. Wordlessly, Yeosang poured himself and also Jongho a cup of coffee each. Jongho quietly thanked his older friend before sipping his cup in a slightly slumped position.
"Are you okay?" Yeosang asked, sensing something. Jongho sighed and nodded, "I feel bad for (y/n) for denying her sex and it's not like I don't want to, but I'm just not in the position to considering the state I would be in would not be conducive for recording and I really don't want to deal with Hongjoong hyung getting pissy at me," he sighed. Not knowing what else to say, Yeosand decided that he should at least be polite in this situation, "That's rough man, anything I can do?"
That particular question seemed to have turn a switch in Jongho's head because one moment he had a mopey look on his face, and the next, it was pure intrigue.
"You know what, hyung, I think there is something you can do," he said, finishing his coffee and straightening up. Sensing Jongho's resolve genuinely changing, Yeosang raised an eyebrow, "Okay? What can I do?" "Do you think you can accompany (y/n) and make sure she has all her needs met?" Jongho asked. The prospect of spending the day with you made Yeosang's eyes blink faster and heart beat harder. "S-sure, I guess. I have no schedules today so I can take her to wherever she wants," he ensured, clearing his throat when he felt like his tone showcased how excited he was even if it was only sightly. Jongho raised his eyebrows and smirked, realizing that Yeosang hadn't caught his drift, "You'll take her wherever she wants? What about taking her... However she wants?" Still not getting it, Yeosang nodded slowly, "Yes? I'll... Do whatever it is you want me to do to help your girlfriend feel better?"
Jongho couldn't believe how adorably innocent Yeosang was being. Knowing him for years, Jongho realized how some things could easily go over Yeosang's head by no fault of his own. He was just never introduced to the more scandalous side of life and it wasn't like he sought out information either.
Yeosang stared at Jongho in confusion as the younger chuckled and stood up, "Yes, that's... Correct in a sense I guess," Jongho then rounded the kitchen counter to stand in front of Yeosang. Jongho's phone buzzed and he momentarily checked the message he received before shoving his phone into his pocket, "But just to make sure both you and (y/n) get my point," All of a sudden, Jongho pulled Yeosang by his shirt and planted his lips on the older guy. Yeosang's eyes widened and his hands gripped the counter to regain control of his body because the impact from Jongho's sudden attack suddenly sent him reeling.
Initially, Yesoang was sent into a panicked and confused state because what the hell was Jongho doing? Why was he kissing him? What if you woke up and saw your boyfriend and one of his best friends kissing?
Correction, making out.
Somehow Jongho had managed to slip his tongue into Yeosang's mouth and at first, Yeosang wanted to protest and push him away. Heck, he had already gotten a hand on Jongho's shoulder but for some reason, he melted slightly into Jongho and as fucked up as it is, his mind drifted to thoughts that he knew he shouldn't be having. Those thoughts were mainly in the area of 'this is the tongue that had caressed and tasted (y/n)' and it got him hard faster than he cared to admit. The thought of you helped relax Yeosang slightly and before he realized it, he was kissing Jongho back with the same fervor which made Jongho unknowingly smirk, pleased that Yeosang was responding to him.
It wasn't until Jongho felt his phone buzzed again that he pulled away, realizing that he had to go. He couldn't even hide the satisfied look on his face when he saw how flushed Yeosang was after their little makeout session. For sure, you were going to like things just as much as he did should things go according to his plan. "Please give that to (y/n)," Jongho said all too simply as he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. Still blear-eyed and slightly confused, Yeosang was trying hard to make his brain work. "W-what?" he managed out after he felt air filling back into his lungs. "Give that kiss to (y/n), the exact same way, please?" Jongho grinned, a little bit too happily.
Even with Jongho repeating himself, Yeosang was still trying to make sure of things, putting 2 and 2 was for him especially since he was practically mauled by Jongho. Seeing the state his friend was in, Jongho exhaled sharply and stood closer to Yeosang, "I am giving you full permission to do ABSOLUTELY WHATEVER it is my girlfriend wants you to do to satisfy her, okay? Starting with that kiss. Carte blanche, sky's your limit!" he then placed a hand on Yeosang's right shoulder and tilted his head, "Capische?" Just to make things more sexually confusing for Yeosang, Jongho smiled at him, showing off the gums that cleverly hid his perverted agenda.
"I- I- Capische, I guess?" Yeosang answered, kind of getting what Jongho expected off of him but also still in disbelief. "Awesome! Thanks hyung, I owe you this, I'll pay you back when I think of something, okay?" he said before leaving his friend with a pat on the chest and an extra squeeze that made Yeosang's eyes bulge out (and almost made him let out a sound but in fear of sounding like a car being honked, Yeosang somehow managed to keep the sound in. Things happened so fast all at once and it made him slightly dizzy. It was only 7 am and so many things already happened. Part of him thought that he was imagining things and that maybe he was still asleep and dreaming but he didn't even know where to justify himself dreaming about kissing his friend.
"Hey Sangie, what are you doing up so early?"
Yeosang snapped his focus back to reality at the sound of your voice but the blush returned to his cheeks when he saw you oh so casually walking your adorable self out of your boyfriend's room and trudging to sit down on one of the stools, right where your boyfriend had just set which effectively set his mind drifting to what had just happened.
"H-hey (y/n), morning! What are you doing up at 7 am?" he asked with nerves thickly laced in his voice. You furrowed your eyebrows and checked the clock on your phone before showing him the screen, "Sangie, it's 8.24," you pointed out. Yeosang had stood alone in the kitchen, so deep in his thoughts that he hadn't even realized that an hour had passed and that time had kept on going while he was making out with your boyfriend in the kitchen. So he turned his back on you after saying a simple 'oh', making it seem like he wasn't flustered by pouring you a cup of coffee before setting it in front of you and heading towards the couch to enjoy his now cold coffee.
For a moment, both you and he were silent, neither of you was sharing anything and just enjoying the silence and calmness of the atmosphere. Even when you moved to the couch when Yeosang turned the TV on, neither of you was conversing over anything substantial.
Well, until you brought up your boyfriend.
"Did Jongho say anything before he left this morning?"'
It was almost comical how Yeosang snapped his head in your direction and blinked twice. "I'm not quite sure but I think he mentioned Cate Blanchett?" You furrowed your eyebrows at his answer, "The lady who played Thor's older sister?" "Yes?" "You sound unsure..." you pointed out, crossing your arms on your chest and turning to look at him fully, "Tell me what Jongho told you and I know he told you something," you pressed.
Now Yeosang found himself between a hard and awkward place. The hard place is between his legs and the awkward place is the position of having to tell you that your boyfriend had practically told him to service you, who is his secret crush, should you request for him to. So he kept stammering, trying to find a way to tell you what he needed to tell you while you stared at him, making him even more nervous than he already was.
"I- I- Well, you see,"
Yeosang sat up straighter and shuffled closer to you, prompting you to do the same.
"W- we- I, Jongho and I, he-"
God, he wasn't even this nervous at his audition and frankly it was starting to annoy you.
"Just spit it out!"
"Fuck it,"
Before you know it, Yeosang pressed his lips on yours, his body no longer at the end of the couch but hovering above you with arms caging your head. The impact caused you to let out a sound of surprise as you were not expecting Yeosang to jump on you like that. There was a nagging voice in the back of your head that was screaming for you to push him away but there was another voice that spoke louder than the former voice. That voice belonged to your boyfriend and it came from the memory you had from earlier in the morning when he woke you up to tell you that he felt bad for disappointing you for the past four days and he was going to make it up to you. Then your brain tried to connect that memory with the text message your boyfriend sent to you, stating that his apology gift has been set up and you can claim it from Yeosang. Was this it?
"Jongho," Yeosang panted as he shifted his lips from yours down to your chin and jaw, "Left you a kiss," your eyes rolled back when he took your earlobe between his teeth and started nibbling, "With me, and he wanted me to deliver it for you," he finished before reconnecting your lips once again. You moaned into his mouth when he slipped his tongue and allowed your own to battle his for dominance.
The kiss was electrifying, breath-taking, and cunt clenching. You couldn't help but spread your legs wider so Yeosang could push your body completely flat on the couch. At this point, his crotch made in contact with yours and you could feel from your short sleeping shorts and his own sweatpants that he was long and hard. Another moan was sent into his mouth and the feeling of vibration made Yeosang grind his crotch onto you, taking it as the perfect moment to let you know the other part of the message.
"A-also," you whined when Yeosang pulled away slightly, resting his forehead on yours, "Jongho wanted me to... Satisfy all of your needs, however you want, wherever you want."
Looking into his eyes, you saw how his pupils were blown and the flush on his face made your heart burn slightly, realizing that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him at that moment. You were not sure if it was because of how needy you were from being denied sex for almost a week or if your teeny tiny crush on your boyfriend's friend was forced to bloom due to the circumstances. Of course, the circumstances are the fact that your boyfriend had allowed his friend to kiss and fuck you should you want to.
"So, Jongho told you to just kiss me or did he specify that you had to kiss me like that?" you teased, starting to relax and opening yourself up for Yeosang who had dropped his gaze from your eyes down to your lips. "He... Left me a kiss but what I gave you is partially from him but mostly from me," he muttered before he dove down to attach his lips to your neck. As he began sucking the sensitive skin, your body reacted automatically to him, your hands curled on the base strands of his hair as your heels hooked on the backs of thighs, allowing his crotch to press closer to yours. "Fuck, is this your way of telling me that you've been wanting to fuck me?" you moaned when his teeth grazed against your jugular, causing your cunt to clench and your spine to tingle. At that point, you were sure that you were soaked but you couldn't be too sure because the warmth pressing on your crotch could Yeosang's body warmth. "No, this is me telling you I didn't like to see you so disappointed because Jongho, your boyfriend, has been denying you sex so I want to help you feel better." As he spoke, you felt his hands creep up to the waistband of your shorts and your breath hitched in both anticipation and excitement, wanting to see just how much you both could go with the fact that you've already gotten your boyfriend's approval in the bag. Toying with the band whilst simultaneously teasing the skin underneath, Yeosang looked up at you with eyes full of hope and desire, "Can I help you feel better?"
It didn't take you long to nod, giving him the confirmation to proceed which he happily obliged by pulling your bottoms so hard he ripped your panties slightly. Yeosang misunderstood the widening of your eyes as a bad thing and he immediately cringed, apologizing profusely as he told you he felt bad and that he would buy you a new pair. So it surprised him when you pulled his face up and hungrily kissed him. "That was so hot, Yeosang, I'm totally okay with that," you said breathlessly, starting to grind your now bare cunt onto his crotch, delighting yourself at the feeling of something hard pushing back against your needy clit. "Jongho has been the only person to be able to do that and fuck did he make such a good decision entrusting you," you whimpered, pulling on Yeosang's bottom lip needily.
Hearing the way you talked about him made Yeosang's heart soar and he suddenly felt the need to show you just how much exactly he had been thinking about you and pleasing you. Confidently, Yeosang pressed two of his fingers against your pussy, effectively trapping your clit between his two digits. His eyes never left your face, enjoying the ecstasy-ridden look on your face as you threw your head back whilst a high-pitched gasp escaped your lips. Wanting to see that expression again, Yeosang began massaging your clit between his two fingers whilst adding more stimulation by moving his fingers up and down. The pleasure was starting to build in you slowly but surely, adding the fact that it was Yesoang who was giving you pleasure and your mind was sent to a pleasure-induced haze. Had it not been for Yeosang's body between your legs, you would have successfully clamped your legs shut.
A shaky breath left Yeosang's lips when he noticed you reacting positively towards his ministration. To the people who would not understand, they would say Yeosang was weird for reading into your reaction so much but how can Yeosang start to describe how much he loved seeing the way your hips rolled onto his hands? Seeing you seeking more of his touch was a whole other level of satisfaction that Yeosang never even knew existed until he saw it with his own eyes. Between your face and glistening cunt, Yeosang couldn't choose which part he liked best. Then again, he had yet to have the chance to feel his aching cock nesting inside your core so he'd have to reserve his decision for after you came on him.
The dynamic of your expression was beyond anything Yeosang could explain because once his fingers slipped inside you, your face contorted to showcase even more of your ecstasy. "You like that, princess?" Yeosang teased as he curled his fingers inside you, caressing the sensitive walls ever so gently that caused your cunt to leak more arousal and your body to shake from the pleasure. "Fuck yes, I do! Jongho, God bless his physique, is chunky and big but so is his fingers but you, Yeosang- Fuck! You and your damn long fingers are reaching so deep inside me- fuck!" you whined, hips rising as Yeosang's finger pulled all the way out only to slam them back in, revelling in how slick you were when they felt your juices staining his palm. "Long, huh? So... Why do you call me a beefcake?" Yeosang teased, lowering himself closer to your cunt which surprisingly made you a bit shy as seen from the way you tried to close your legs. Of course, Yeosang wouldn't let that happen so he used his upper body strength and directed it to his palms, forcing your legs to stay open and not even caring that your stream of slick was trickling down on the couch. "Excuse you, Yeosang, you're not just a beefcake, you're MY beefcake raccoon," you scoffed as you maintained eye contact with Yeosang in faux confidence, oblivious that your stance was being betrayed by your quivering pupils and blush. "Yours, huh? Is that what I am?" Yeosang tried to bite back the grin on his lips as best he could but it was futile as he couldn't even hide the way his hips grind onto your shin when he heard you referring to him as yours. "I don't know about you but fuck, I love the sound of that," he said shakily before diving down to lick a fat stripe from your drenched hole up to nibble on your clit.
That was the last straw. The teasing, the sexual frustration, and seeing Yeosang between your legs had fucked up your brain so much that all you wanted was him.
Sitting up slightly, you somehow managed to pull Yeosang up by the collar of his shirt and push him so he was the one on his back. The frantic movement of your hands pulling Yeosang's sweatpants and underwear paired with the manic, almost crazed look on your face was absolutely thrilling. "I need you inside me Yeosang, please, I want you to fill me up with cock and cum so bad, I need it now!" you whimpered, pussy drenching the fabric of his thigh so embarrassingly bad that it caused Yeosang's cock to twitch as it was released from its confines.
"Use me then, after all, that's why I'm here."
It was the last confirmation you need before you all too easily slip his cock inside of your cunt. For a moment, the both of you only revelled at the feeling of each other for the first time. Yesoang was enjoying how warm you were and how much he liked the sharp contrast between the cool air and your warm core, the sudden change forced the air to be knocked out of his lungs and his eyes to roll to the back of his head. You, on the other hand, were struggling with the fact that Yeosang was reaching inside you so deep that your legs were starting to shake. As crude as it seemed, your immediate reaction was to notice the difference between him and Jongho. It wasn't like you were ranking or making a pros and cons list in your head, you were just noticing how different they pleasured you. Jongho was definitely shorter but girthier, it was always a struggle to take him in as he filled you up almost immediately and even once you got used to the feeling of fullness, you still struggled to move your own body so usually, Jongho would do the work. But Yeosang, he was slimmer but definitely longer, something you didn't take into consideration on the first impact as once he was sheathed inside of you completely, you felt his tip kissing your cervix and it was a new feeling that you had yet to be accustomed to. Whether it was due to his size or the pool you had created down there, you found yourself able to move on your own a lot easier and that made your brain go fuzzy.
Once you both got used to the novelty of feeling each other so intimately, you began fucking yourself on Yeosang's cock. Right off the bat, you were moving so vigorously and Yeosang could only stare with a slacked jaw. "Fuck, Yeosang your cock is hitting me so deep!" you whined, throwing your head back from the feeling and clenching down on him. Yeosang never had much of a comparison material as he was never one to seek out physical relations so often. But even then he knew that the level of pleasure he was experiencing was only achievable because he was getting it from you. Yeosang had to grip your hips to ground him back to reality because he was sure that if he hadn't, he would've definitely thought that he was dreaming. But the feeling of you grounding yourself on top of him was surely something his brain couldn't manipulate no matter how much he tried. And when you changed you changed your position, his brain went haywire. You initially had your knees on either side of his hips and the sight of you rubbing your needy cunt on him was something he could never forget. But then you paused to prop your legs by bending your knees and leaning back with your hands on his muscular thighs. The feeling of Yeosang's flexing muscles beneath your fingers honestly made your cunt clench and weep slightly and Yeosang couldn't help but take note of it.
The very moment you got settled in your new position, you immediately started bouncing yourself on top of Yeosang, impaling yourself multiple times on his cock. If your rhythm was vigorous before, this was... Maniacal. You were jackhammering yourself like a crazed person trying to seek relief. As sick as it was, for some reason, Yeosang loved the way you were basically using his cock for your own release as if he was a toy that you oh so graciously choose to relieve the building ache and need from being denied by your own boyfriend. Your stamina was proof of your desperate need to get sexual release and the way you showcased it could only be described by him as an art performance. "Shit, you're so hot," Yeosang hissed on a particular snap of your hips, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass before his right hand travelled up to your (Jongho's) shirt and grabbing the bottom as he pulled them up to reveal your torso, "Bite this for me please, baby, I wanna see your body, I NEED to see your body," he whimpered, his finger caressing your chin as he tuck the bottom part of your shirt between your teeth. You bit back a grin when he called you baby, feeling giddy all of a sudden but you tried to play it cool. He let out a shuddered breath when he noticed you weren't wearing any bra and frankly, he couldn't help but think about how lucky Jongho was to be able to feel you pressing up to him every night if he wanted to. You moaned and clenched down on him, "Fuck, I didn't peg you for a tits man, Yeosang," you teased but took a moment to tweak your left nipple, "Do you like my tits?" you asked, purposefully moaning and rolling your hips. "No," he huffed as he placed his right hand on your crotch, thumb pressed on your clit which caused you to jolt slightly "I like you," he smirked cheekily.
The confession was rather surprising but you noticed it made your stomach to flutter. Egged by his profession, you started fucking yourself on Yeosang's cock again, this time, the stimulation from his thumb on your clit made your movements harsher but messier. Neither of you could speak clearly, not that you wanted to, you were enjoying the sounds Yeosang was making and he was in a trance as he stared at the way your pussy was swallowing his cock whole. "Greedy baby," he hissed, finally finding the ability to snap his hips back to meet yours, "Taking my cock so good, making sure I'd remember your pussy always." The impact from his hips successfully made your footing falter as you found your right leg slipping and your body tumbling forward, your bare chest met Yeosang's clothed one.
"Fuck me, you got some talented hips there," you giggled, immediately adjusting your thrusts to the new position and enjoying the friction of his shirt on your tits. Moaning, Yeosang held you tight with one arm as the one that was on your clit moved to his face, "Nothing you couldn't escape from your beefcake raccoon, right?" he smirked while licking your arousal clean from his fingers.
With a sharp exhale from you, you planted your lips back onto him, tasting yourself on his tongue before moving your hips even faster. You were thankful that your boyfriend had forced you to ride his thighs so much that you had somehow gained the core strength to ride Yeosang like a champion. "Y-Yeosang, fuck- I'm close!" you whimpered against his mouth, your movements getting sloppy as the tension in your cunt increased, now trying its best to reach climax. Yeosang nodded at your admission, hands moving to hold you by your thighs so that you would still be wide open for him. "I'll make you cum, (y/n), don't worry," he pecked your lips before dropping his forehead on your shoulder, "I'll make sure you're satisfied."
Your hands found purchase on the armrest behind Yeosang and on his shoulder, trying to hold onto your sanity that was being torn apart by each thrust Yeosang delivered. Your head fell slack and your eyebrows furrowed as you felt your climax at the tip of your tongue. Yeosang was trying his best to get you to cum and with the way your walls were hugging him in a vice, he knew it wouldn't take long to push you over the edge. "Y-yeosang!" you whined, your hips now stilling as you reached your climax with a shake of your body from how intense it felt. Yeosang held your legs open for him and his hips never stopped, allowing you to ride out your high while also trying to reach his own.
Though you were induced into a pleasure state, you were still thinking about Yeosang and fuck if there was not one thing in your mind.
"In me, Yeosang, finish in me! I need to be filled!" You managed out, practically begging to be stuffed as how your boyfriend usually would. Though it was Yeosang fucking you, you couldn't help but let the thought of both he and Jongho filling you up with their cum flash through. The mere thought sent shivers down your spine and your hips to suddenly roll.
Yeosang was trying his best to not lose control because Jongho hadn't said anything about allowing him to cum inside you. "A-are you su-re, (y/n)? I can just- fuck, I can just jerk myself off," he assured you. But you whined and started peppering kisses along his jawline, "Please fill me up, Yeosang, you said you- ah! You had to please me, right?" you pouted.
A grunt rumbled through Yeosang's chest and without much complaint, he began thrusting into you in shorter but more precise movements. The overstimulation was trying to get you but you tried your best to hold on by distracting yourself. Your left hand found purchase on Yeosang's right peck and your fingers automatically squeeze the soft flesh and your fingers toy the stiff peaks with each movement.
As it turns out, that seemed to set off Yeosang because suddenly he held your body flush against him and you felt his cum filling you up in spurts as his cock twitched inside you. The sensation made you let out a low hum and your head rolled to nest on the crook of Yeosang's neck.
For a moment, you both could only lay there, resting on each other as you tried to catch your breath. Your haze was dwindling down into a daydream and your body was adjusting so you could rest after the session you just had. Though you had Yeosang under you, you couldn't help but think of your boyfriend and how after this, you're going to need to thank him. But when Yeosang readjusted his position so that his head was resting against the armrest and your head was on his pecks, your thoughts shifted. You propped your arms on Yeosang's chest and your chin on them, smiling up at him, "What got you grinning?" Yeosang asked but he was returning your smile with his. You shrugged, "Not sure, maybe it was post-orgasm bliss," and you wanted to add that it could also be the fact that he had just confessed that he liked you in the middle of sex but you didn't want to make things awkward so you kept that little jewel to yourself.
"So," Yeosang cleared his throat, "Are you feeling happy and satisfied now?" he asked, suddenly remembering the task his friend had given him. You pursed your lips, momentarily thinking of an answer before a mischievous glint past your eyes. "I think... Not quite," you replied, your legs suddenly caging Yeosang's hips which effectively rubbed his softened cock the right way as seen from the way it was starting to twitch back to life. Taking the hint, Yeosang's tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip in hunger.
"Well, I did promise your boyfriend that I would do anything to make you happy, didn't I? We'll just have to keep doing it until you're completely... Satisfied."
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1d1195 · 9 months
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Screens II
Read the first part here: Screens
Another thank you to my 🪁-anon. Without you and your kind request, this story would not exist. I hope you enjoy this part as much as possible. Thank you to the following anon's for their support, I don't have names or emoji's for you but here are the kind messages I've received patiently waiting for a part 2: one and only Screens fan, #1 Screens fan, and this one that sobbed while trying to finish reading it. I did not mean to exclude anyone, I typed Screens into my blog's search bar to gather this information.
Finally, this anon provided a good chunk of the inspiration.
I hope you all enjoy it. I wrote it in a sense in a series of flashbacks and you will see this ◊ to indicate the difference in flashback scenes vs. my standard * to indicate a bit of time has passed.
"Okay on with it, lady. You talk to much." --Everyone reading this (probably).
Harry wasn’t so distracted by how pretty she looked with hair and paint falling across her pretty skin and over her beautiful face that he missed her saying the word ‘if.’ A hopeful sign that she believed in a miracle even if she was too scared to say so herself on any given day. Part of him also noted and hated the idea of her finding an apartment without him; even after a mere nine months of being in absolute love with her. He wished he had asked her to move in right then.
December | Holiday Break | 8:30 AM
Harry was extremely mindful of announcing his presence around her because he hated how jumpy she got when anyone else spooked her because she didn’t always see them coming around the corner or something. He especially did so in the quiet of the morning or the stillness of the evening. “Angel?” He called into his apartment. It was chilly on their first day of holiday break from work. Harry wanted her to stay the whole week with him. She couldn’t deny she didn’t want the same thing. He ventured into the winter air and returned with hot coffee, foam on top just as she liked.
They’d been together, officially, for a little over a year. But having known her a bit for the better part of a decade, it was easier than he ever thought to be in a relationship with her and he wished that he had thought of it long before last November. “Mm,” she hummed barely loud enough for him to hear as he approached his bedroom. “M’sleeping,” she mumbled against the pillow as he made his way across the room.
He chuckled quietly and set the coffees on his nightstand before slipping back under the covers with her. She rolled herself on top of him, legs on either side of his hips and her face pressed against the front of his shoulder. She was scrunched against him like a little ball. “Don’t move.”
He wouldn’t have if someone tried to force him to move. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the side of her head. “Coffee’ll get cold,” he mumbled, rubbing his fingers against the back of her head. She sighed but said nothing. “C’mon, kitten. Y’told me t’not let y’sleep late,” he cooed and kissed her again.
“I lied,” she murmured. He chuckled. “M’too heavy, that’s it, isn’t it? Want me off you?” He rolled his eyes and squeezed her tight against him.
“No, y’silly thing.” She lifted her head up and hovered above him for a moment. She didn’t speak but she lightly drew her finger over his features. He watched as her eyes squinted, sliding over the trail of her finger in silence. She did this at least once a week. Usually when they saw one another on the weekends because they had more time than their Thursday night ritual. “What are y’doing?” He asked her.
Her cheeks reddened and she shook her head. She didn’t say and Harry let it drop. He always let it drop when he asked. Part of him thought nothing of it, surely it was for a portrait—a painting or a drawing she was working on. She had seen her do it with a rose, tracing the thorns carefully; or the arm of a park bench, admiring how it looked in the afternoon light.
Nonetheless, he enjoyed the way her fingers felt on his skin. It was one of the many things she taught him: using his sense of touch so much more.
Carefully he tightened his grip on her as he rolled the pair of them onto their sides to face one another. He brought his hand to her face and gently brushed his thumb across her lips and then traced his finger over her brow line, over the bridge of her nose, before settling his hand firmly against her cheek. “When’s your appointment?” He asked.
She sighed and shook her head. “Noon,” she mumbled. He gave her body a gentle squeeze as he held her.
“It’ll be alright, kitten.”
“I can’t teach if I can’t see,” she reminded him. “I’m sitting right in front of you, and I can hardly see you,” she whispered quietly.
He frowned and reached behind her for her glasses on the other little table beside his bed. He slid them into place, mindful to not catch her ear or pull too hard against her hair. He smiled at her. It made her stomach flip because Harry was by far the most beautiful person she had ever met. “I love your glasses,” he whispered. She rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“I look like a librarian.”
“The sexiest librarian ’ve ever laid eyes on,” he promised and ignored her snort. “Not only do they help y’see, but they help me see. S’like they magnify your eyes. Swear I can see everything you’re hiding in that beautiful brain of yours,” he murmured and pressed a kiss to her forehead, right between the rim of the glasses hovering over her eyes.
“They look like coke bottles.”
He shook his head. “I think you’re gorgeous,” he promised and pulled them down slightly and pressed a kiss to each of her eyelids. Silently he hoped and prayed to whatever god was out there that her appointment would give her good news and make the ache in her mind and heart lessen just a bit. He didn’t care if she needed glasses by any means or if her eyesight got worse. None of that mattered to him at all. He just wanted her to be a little happier than she was before.
*
Over the past year, he had seen so many stages of her grief. He saw the anger she felt when she missed a step and dropped her food outside the restaurant causing a mess all over her shoes and the entry way. It made her eyes water as she asked the hostess if she could have some towels to clean it up so no one would slip on their way out. Harry helped her clean it up and even placed the quickest to go order ever made so she could have extra for lunch the following day and promised her it was no big deal that she spilled.
 He watched her sadness as she couldn’t see things in plain sight—like the ever-hiding remote always evading her vision. Or when she accidentally put cinnamon in her pasta dish because she swore it was paprika.
The pain that puckered her eyebrows together all because her glasses and the screens at work bothered her so much.
Harry begged her so plainly to ask him for help. He had the phone pressed to his ear as he laid his head back against the sofa. Her voice made his stomach knot in the best way—she made him weak in the knees and the only thing he regretted about dating her was not doing it sooner. “I’ll bother you,” she whispered into the phone.
“Kitten, of course not.”
“If you’re hanging out with friends, and you need to come get me because it’s raining at night...and I can’t drive myself home?”
“Then I’ll say, ‘sorry lads, m’princess needs me.’ If they have a problem with that, s’on them,” he said simply with a shrug.
She released a quiet giggle despite how much she didn’t want to. “You’re much nicer to me than anyone I’ve ever known.”
But she wasn’t always so down about it. Sometimes she had a really good sense of humor about it. Harry didn’t love it all that much though. It hurt him to hear her joke about something he knew in his heart hurt her quite a bit. But he was glad she could be in good spirits about it.
“Listen,” she said almost a month after their first kiss. “You’d be surprised how often someone says, ‘what are you blind?’ You’re just going to have to roll with it. It’s okay. I’ve heard it a lot and I say it to myself sometimes. I’ve been working on new comebacks but so far ‘legally, no; spiritually yes,’ is my favorite.”
Harry felt a wave of awkwardness wash over him, but she just continued to smile this gorgeous, bright smile that he had no choice but to let her make her joke.
And if he did say ‘What are you, blind?’ a few days later, well... at least she had warned him.
Harry read to her sometimes. It made her feel like a little kid, but he didn’t dwell on it. He acted as if it was completely normal for a boyfriend to read out loud like a kindergarten teacher to his girlfriend. She snuggled up to him in his lap and glanced at the pages every so often as he held the book in front of them. She had to be careful though because Harry’s voice was so soothing and even though she loved to hear him talk, there had been many chapters she missed because he accidentally put her to sleep with his melodic voice.
Sleeping together in the quiet parts of the night were some of his favorite times. Whether something more intimate happened between them or not. Night was when he felt most attuned to her. Harry couldn’t see any more than she could. Touching her, feeling the goosebumps he left in the wake of his fingertips against her skin made him much more aware of how touch could bring him to his knees for her. He also paid close attention to her near silent, soft whines of pleasure or how her laugh seemed so much brighter in the dark.
But listening to her speak at night might have been one of his most favorite things. “Why did y’leave me after that party?” He whispered. It bothered him a bit when they first started dating.
Her face was pressed to his chest, her finger moving over his face as it always did, this time focusing on the shape of his jaw, outlining the scruffy remnants of hair growth since he last shaved. “Why would you want to be with the near-blind girl?” She shrugged.
It took him no time at all to answer. “Cause she’s perfect.” She smiled and pressed a kiss almost touching the cross necklace that dangled between the sparrows on his chest.
She never asked him again if it mattered to him if she’d go totally blind. Not since she asked after their first kiss last November. He said it all right then at that moment. She believed him so easily because no, she hadn’t ever thought about it. There wasn’t a time when she thought that maybe she wouldn’t go blind. So, for Harry to believe it was possible was more than enough.
Harry worried about her a lot more than most people did a lot of the time. More than her family who were so used to her poor sight it didn’t even phase them when she handed them the wrong cups or passed along the wrong items because they weren’t clear enough about where they were. More than strangers who would roll their eyes at her when she bumped into them on public transport.
But mostly herself because while she had been living with bad eyes for so long, it took Harry some getting used to the ins and outs of the harder things she had to do. One day they painted two canvases together, spinning them back and forth between them for five minutes creating fun little landscapes that didn’t make any sense. “Would y’ever want a seeing eye dog?” He asked. Harry was a terrible painter, but he’d do anything to spend time with her doing her favorite things. “Bet we could get you a really cute pup,” he smiled.
She smirked so cutely, and she wiped her hand across her forehead to get a piece of hair out of her eyes. In doing so, she painted a stripe of pink paint across her forehead, making his heart feel so jumpy with love for her. “Maybe if I went totally blind,” she shrugged. “Would need to find an apartment that allows a cute dog too,” she reminded him. As if a seeing-eye dog wasn’t an exception to most places.
Harry wasn’t so distracted by how pretty she looked with hair and paint falling across her pretty skin and over her beautiful face that he missed her saying the word ‘if.’ A hopeful sign that she believed in a miracle even if she was too scared to say so herself on any given day. Part of him also noted and hated the idea of her finding an apartment without him; even after a mere nine months of being in absolute love with her. He wished he had asked her to move in right then.
Loving one another didn’t come without some hardships either.
Once more she found herself bumping into someone. Harry had gone ahead to the car to get to her door and naturally the moment he left her side she was nearly falling flat on her bum. However, the person bumping into her was quick, caught her around the waist before she hit the ground. “Oh, easy love. You alright?”
“I’m so sorry,” she said quickly.
“Hardly your fault, love. Don’t be sorry,” he smirked. “S’easy to fall for me,” he winked at her.
She gaped in surprise. Harry wasn’t surprised in the slightest because she was by far the most adorable person on the planet let alone that street. “Excuse me,” Harry said flatly. Harry eyed the arm around her waist that didn’t belong to her or himself, and the man turned his attention to Harry.
“Oh, of course you’re taken...Someone as beautiful as you would have to be,” he released his grip from her. “Sorry, mate,” he said to Harry and then winked at the beautiful girl.
Harry grabbed her hand and marched quickly toward his car without so much as another glance in his direction. “Harry,” she whined as he tugged her. He wasn’t rough, exactly. She didn’t think it was possible for him to be rough with her even when he was grumpy. Her mind flashed to that very first day when he looked at her with so much annoyance for getting food all over his clothes and then separating him from his friends.
Harry often got so protective of her that it came across as overbearing and every so often, he couldn’t help but feel jealous when someone else helped her. She had done so much on her own for so long the idea that she didn’t need him or worse, needed someone else made him so utterly sad that he had a hard time expressing how upset it made him. “M’sorry,” he whispered.
“Sorry? Why?”
“Jus’...I get so sad when other people help you,” he frowned. She turned toward him in her seat. “Not because I don’t want them t’help you. But because...I jus’ like helping you. Makes me think y’don’t really need me,” he mumbled. “I know I wasn’t always...so outwardly nice t’you. Think I was a bit of a dick,” he said quietly. “Think it would make a lot of sense if y’found...someone that swept y’off your feet right away.”
She reached out and cupped the side of his face and leaned forward to kiss him on the lips briefly. “I need you, always. More than that...I want you,” she said softly. Harry felt like a lovesick teenager at her words. Wanting him really was so much better than needing him. Because she didn’t. She was wonderfully independent and had done so much on her own for so long, she really didn’t need him. But wanting him around? Harry loved her so much he wondered how he ever could have been without her. “So much it feels like I need you.”
He leaned forward to steal another kiss and she smiled, her glasses bumping his forehead a bit. “I love you,” he promised.
She smiled. “Would you like to know when I fell in love with you?” She asked.
He blinked at her response. “Well, sure,” he nodded.
“When you held my hand at the party and walked me to your room...it was like...I don’t know, I felt like a princess,” she told him. “You totally saved me. I had no plan. No escape. I just didn’t want to bother anyone.”
He smiled at the memory. “I loved sleeping with you,” he winked. She pushed him gently and shook her head. “No really, y’looked so cute in m’clothes. Wanted you t’stay in my bed forever.”
“I bet you did,” she mumbled.
“Ha-ha,” he rolled his eyes. “Never would have thought your cute mind would constantly sit in a gutter, kitten. Yes, of course I wanted that,” he grumbled making her laugh. “Really I jus’ wanted you.”
“You want me too?” She wrinkled her nose making her eyes crinkle at the corners and Harry turned fully to hold her face between his hands. He leaned in to brush his lips over hers like he did the first time he kissed her. She gave the same little whine she did. It went right through his heart.
“What gave it away?” He mumbled against her lips.
“What if it’s hereditary?” She whispered in the dark.
Harry turned to face her even though he couldn’t see anything in the darkened room. He could feel her breath and the anxiety in her voice was so palpable he could feel her voice. “Then...who better to help them than you?”
She shook her head. “I wouldn’t wish this on the people that made fun of me,” she mumbled. “I can’t imagine a child like me,” she admitted quietly. “It was so hard.”
Harry frowned and inched closer to her. His nose bumped into hers, he brought his hand up to her cheek. What he said next, he meant whether he was part of the future or not. With everything in him, it was one of the truest things he ever told her. “I can’t think of a luckier child than one like you, m’love.”
It wasn’t always about her eyes. There were pictures they took and vacations they enjoyed. He loved her family and how they made him feel like he was part of her holiday traditions. Gemma and his mum adored her and asked about her more than they asked about Harry.
She had the best jokes from books she read. Her art was beautiful and taking walks through the park with her were some of his favorite dates he’d ever been on.
It was five months in when he told her he loved her for the first time. “You are the most beautiful woman I know,” he said. She smiled at him with the lightest touch of pink painting her cheeks. She made him stop and proceeded to lie in the middle of the sidewalk to capture a picture of the sky between the branches of a tree on the unseasonably warm April day. Harry took his own picture of her doing just that. “See?” He asked, showing her the picture he took.
She looked at the picture momentarily and then back at him. “You think I’m beautiful?”
“Of course, kitten,” he rolled his eyes. “Inside and out; the kindness and warmth you have inside you is probably jus’ a fraction of the beauty y’display outwardly for someone like me that falls in love with you every time y’smile,” he grabbed her hand continued walking down the street enjoying the spring air. She was quiet for the length of the road and when they stopped to wait for the light to change at the crosswalk, she looked up at him at her side.
“You’re in love with me?” She asked.
He blinked in surprise, feeling a bit tongue tied. He chuckled awkwardly as he glanced at her. “Uh...sorry... I should have waited...said that in the privacy of your apartment...or mine, or something. Not in the middle of a busy street.”
She smiled and shook her head at him. “I love you, too.”
The light changed and back again, but neither of them noticed because he was too busy kissing her while the crowd moved around them.
Sometimes she got so angry and frustrated with herself that she would accidentally take it out on Harry. Like the time she didn’t see how close her fingers were to the knife and nicked herself good. Not enough to need stitches or even a trip to the minute clinic, but enough to make Harry ooh and ahh over her. “Angel,” he murmured after she ripped her hand away from him.
“Stop,” she sniffed. She wasn’t in pain—at least not from her little wound she inflicted upon herself. “Just stop.”
He frowned and pressed his lips together trying not to overwhelm her with his worry. In those moments, he stood waiting patiently. Eventually she would say sorry, and he would shake his head. “You don’t have t’apologize t’me ever, m’love...not ‘bout this.”
He knew this was hard for her. Every time she hurt herself or dropped something, it was a reminder that her eyes weren’t working the way they were supposed to. The last thing he wanted was her spiraling and worrying about what would come next.
But he wanted her to know that whatever it was, he would be right beside her. Seeing for her even if she couldn’t.
*
December | Holiday Break | Lunch time
She never let Harry go into her appointments with her. However, he made sure he was the first one to meet her at the door right outside the office because her eyes were almost always dilated. It amplified how difficult it was for her to see where she was going. After nearly bumping into someone as she exited, she apologized awkwardly. Almost instantly, Harry was there looping her arm through his elbow. “Hey beautiful,” he said kissing the top of her head. He didn’t say anything else. Didn’t ask about the appointment. He knew better. She would say something if needed.
He opened her car door, helping her into the seat and placed sunglasses over her eyes to protect her widened pupils. He kissed the space where her forehead met her hairline and closed her safely in the car. Once inside the car himself, he drove off, planning to get her more coffee because she hated these appointments and Harry wanted to treat her for being brave even when she didn’t want to be. She leaned against the window and didn’t speak. Harry placed a hand on her leg, and she wrapped her fingers around his. He gave her a squeeze and continued driving silently.
“They have a new... cutting edge surgery they want me to try,” she whispered to the window.
He squeezed her hand again, glanced long enough to see her contemplative reflection in the glass. “How d’you feel about that?” He asked.
“Nervous.”
He smiled weakly. He wished he could look at her, but he knew talking about it was easier when he wasn’t looking at her—even if she couldn’t fully see him. Harry ordered at the drive through and then continued driving to a little spot by a lake. It was still so chilly outside—even at the warmest part of the day. There was steam coming off the water from the warmth of the sun beating off it. She took a picture of it on her phone and Harry knew the look of concentration on her face was trying to figure out how to recreate the steam in a painting.
They were sitting on the hood of his car. It was still warm from the engine and Harry had a blanket laid over their laps. She leaned back against the windshield holding the coffee cup upright to keep her hands warm. Harry turned to his side to look at her. He brought his hand to push her hair away from her forehead and he traced along her hairline. “Do y’want surgery?”
She sighed. “I wanna be able to see.”
He smiled gently and gave her cheek a kiss. “Will it...get worse? If y’try it?”
She shook her head. “No more than the risk of a regular surgery. It won’t be perfect. I’d still need glasses. I’ll still have trouble seeing. But...I won’t go blind. It’ll either stop it from getting worse or it won’t work,” she shrugged.
“Sounds like you have nothing t’lose then, angel,” he murmured.
She was quiet for a second. “I trace your face so much because I worry, I’ll never see it again,” she whispered. Harry was speechless...all those times he asked her what she was doing... He never thought that was her reason. “I want it to be muscle memory,” she explained. “So... if my eyes...if I can’t see anymore...I hope I can sculpt it from memory,” she whispered.
That beautiful word ‘if’ made his heart so full of love for her.
But, by far that was the most...genuine thing anyone had ever said to him. “God, I wish I dated you so much earlier,” he mumbled and leaned down to kiss her as deeply as he could manage while the cold December air cooled her coffee down once more while he gently traced his tongue along her lower lip.
Her cheeks turned this beautiful shade of red that Harry loved so much. The sunglasses over her eyes hid so much from him. He meant every word earlier. He loved her glasses so much, if only allowing him to see deeper into her soul. “If...it works though...” she whispered after a minute of kissing. He didn’t say anything because he sensed there was more, and she swallowed hard. “I’m scared I won’t be me...I feel like my whole life has been put on hold because of my eyes. I don’t know if I know how to live without... thinking about them.”
“Then we’ll learn t’live without thinking ‘bout them,” he shrugged reaching for a piece of her hair and stroking it like a paint brush across her face. “You’re more than your eyes, kitten.”
Her heart felt so warm at his words. Harry always made the well-being of her eyes an effort for the two of them. It wasn’t a battle she faced alone. Harry was there the whole time encouraging her, helping her, keeping a literal eye on things for her when she couldn’t. It didn’t bother him when she cried about not seeing something. When she bumped into walls or doors, he never said anything other than to make sure she was alright. If she dropped something and made a mess, he simply helped her clean it up. Harry was her personal chauffeur, and he didn’t care at all.
“To be fair m’love, I would be driving y’around anyway because you’re a lady and I adore you and m’mum taught me t’hold car doors open for the women I adore. And I’d rather drive and keep y’safe... plus you’re a terrible driver even when y’can see. S’a danger to you, me, and everyone else on the road.”
“We wouldn’t...” she whispered quietly and shook her head, looking away from him.
“Wouldn’t what, m’love?” He murmured looking at her with a frown on his lips. Worry etched between his eyes.
“We wouldn’t...be in love...if it weren’t for the fact I can’t see,” she reminded him and turned to look back at his expectant face waiting for her to complete her thought. “I wouldn’t have spilled food on you. You wouldn’t have sat up front and asked if I couldn’t see. There wouldn’t have been writing notes for me or making sure I was okay at that party or at the pub...”
“Kitten, I learned t’read Braille for you. I don’t care if y’can see or not. I would do anything for you. I may have fallen for you because you couldn’t see but I don’t stay because of it. I stay because I adore you.”
“What?” She whispered breathlessly. She sat up fully while Harry stayed lying flat against the windshield. “You learned...you did what?”
He shrugged. “M’probably not very good at it. But I don’t know...thought if it came down to it, if it got worse and you were sad...I’d want t’help.”
Harry saw the tear slip down her cheek past her sunglasses. “Harry Styles,” she practically sighed. “You are...I don’t know...”
“The love of your life, maybe?” He smiled cutely and reached up to rub the tear from her cheek.
For the second time in her life, she had so much hope swelling in her heart. Harry, the cause of it once more. “And hopefully every life I’ve ever have and ever will live.”
--
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cassieuncaged · 2 months
Text
The Return - Chapter 4
Tumblr media
Making Nice
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav
Summary: A decade after the Absolute is defeated, Tav returns to Baldur's Gate for an anniversary gala. But now she's up against the most terrifying challenge yet: Seeing her ex.
TW: sexual tension, language, etc.
WC: 2.3K
AO3
Taglist: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore, @randomrubykitty, @ayselluna
“This is delightful,” Gale declared with regality, sipping at the rose hip and hibiscus tea that had been ordered. The suite featured a lacquered cherry wood table, large enough for two to dine. You grinned, noticing that the welt from hitting ground was disappearing from a tan brow.
A serrated knife carved off another piece of flank steak, enjoying the delicacy of nicely cooked meat. You could hardly afford anything nice back in Athkatla, always lacking enough money in the proclaimed ‘City of Coin’. But you had it better than most. A place to live, a job to go to…
Something .
“I shouldn’t reward a naughty wizard for arriving unannounced,” you giggled, enjoying the blush that rose up taut cheekbones. “I could’ve been doing anything.”
“I’m not that lucky,” His lips split in a smarmy grin before immediately regretting the comment. You, however, were thoroughly amused. This ongoing tete-a-tete with the ‘Wizard of Waterdeep’ had always been strangely delightful and charming. “When I got your message, I thought I’d just surprise you Especially since Wyll had provided certain details.”
“How generous of him,” the words were meant as a quip but came out rather bitter. You weren’t exactly thrilled with the fabled Blade of Frontiers at the moment. “Just as well, I think the bubbles covered everything.”
“Fair enough.” His blush had only started to fade once it roared back to life. “So, what is it you wanted to talk about, friend?”
“How long have you got?” blunt teeth tore into a bloody piece of meat as a large hand covered a much smaller one.
“As much time as you need.”
So, the entire story had been recounted, starting at the airport and unraveling to the shenanigans in the bathtub. After dinner had been finished, you had sprawled across the bed on your belly as Gale sat on the floor with his back propped up against the mattress. Several more mini bottles of bubbly had been consumed.
“Am I just the fucking worst or what?” You fiddled with the end of one honey tinted braid, hoping he wouldn’t answer that question. It had been rhetorical after all. You hadn’t even revealed the involvement with Raphael, another deal forged with the devil they all thought dead.
“The worst?” Gale sloshed the alcohol around in a glass flute, cognac eyes trying to find answers in the liquid. “Far from that, I’m afraid. Rather self-loathing and troubled is more like it. But then again so is Astarion. Rather thick skulls the two of you have as well.”
“I can take that.” You admitted, threading your fingers together atop a soft belly. “Though I did make a total ass of myself.”
“Well, there isn’t exactly any denying that,” Gale chuckled before a cushion was colliding with the side of his head, “Easy! Watch the prosecco!”
“I should just go to the department store and get a dress off the rack,” this was followed by a long sigh as you thought how underdressed you’d look at High Hall wearing a store-bought gown made of polyester and chiffon, “Besides, I have other shit to attend to.”
“Like what?” It was a fair question, one that couldn’t be answered. At least not truthfully.
“That’s rather personal.” 
“Is it? Nothing was off the table years earlier.” He sounded hurt by this revelation.
“That was different. We were all strangers on our own missions, out to save Toril: we had to trust each other to an extent.”
“With trust, this is always fear, Tavara.” The wizard sighed, clambering to loafered feet. He looked every bit Professor Dekarios. His students loved him, almost as much as Morena. Gale was a good man; but he was also a principled man of morals. What you’d gotten involved with, he wouldn’t understand.
The only one that would was the man who you were desperately in love with. The same one you ran away from. Whose soul was either equally bound to your own or equally damned.
“I’ll tell you soon,” lips were pressed together tightly after you spoke, watching as he nodded solemnly and cleaned his glasses on his sweater as you crawled to sit on the edge of the bed. “After the gala. I just don’t want you to think less of me.”
“Tav,” he smiled warmly, calloused fingers drifting up to rest beneath your chin. “That’s the last thing you need to worry about. Share when you think the time is right. I will strive to do whatever I can to assist. Sleep tonight and spend tomorrow doing something that you like. Everything will work out for the best.”
You plastered a smile to your lips as the portal re-emerged in the center of the room. Goodbyes were bid as he disappeared into his library once more. All you could do was groan before sinking back onto the bed.
How much longer did you truly have before Raphael owned you like a pet?
......
The bar was bustling when you’d finished performing. A sad rock ballad that was written years earlier, shortly after your arrival in Athkatla. It had earned you quite a few tips. Even one from a ghost. A man, a monster, you thought dead by your own hands.
Raphael dropped a soul coin in the jar with a clang, eyes never leaving your own. He settled back in the shadows as your fingers paused on taut strings, audience patiently awaiting the next verse.
You began to strum, to sing, to captivate. Gold and banknotes continued to flow like water from a tap, the illegal magic in your music assured that much. Though booking the gigs had been difficult enough. After all, you were competing to be seen in the city where everyone strived for that. To be seen. To be heard.
To be known.
Those words had fallen from Astarion’s lips once, when he seduced you to procure his own safety in a time of war, not expecting you to playfully stall the inevitable though he was certainly up to the challenge. The night flashed through your mind in splintered images, limbs tangled beneath the moonlight…
The lyrics that escaped your lips had been an ode to him, written between wracked sobs, composed from broken chords. Now, you were alone. Except for the heir of Mephistopheles. Soon, your voice trailed off, a sea of applause erupting as you grabbed your tips and moved to case the worn guitar.
“Miss me, little mouse?” His voice was deep and rich as red wine, dressed in a finely tailored suit paired with leather wingtips. Raphael was always a man of taste with a penchant for life’s fineries. “Or did you really think you could kill me? How foolish.”
“I saw your body,” your voice trembled in an attempt to remain calm. “Or whatever you called that monstrosity.”
“You aren’t stupid, Tavara.” He chided you like one chides a puppy dog for pissing on the carpet; you didn’t anger him. No, he was disappointed. “Not unlike that damnable hag, I’ll always come back.”
“What have you done with Hope? I promised to keep her safe.” You slung the guitar case over one shoulder. Dark eyes only rolled in amusement as the house lights flickered on. He looked exactly as he did when you’d been approached in the wilds outside Elturgard, years earlier.
“What a little benevolent mouse you are.” he sighed, “The embodiment of Hope remains in her home among the fires of Avernus whilst I’ve been evicted. I can’t exactly say that father was pleased at such a loss.”
“Good,” you goaded, already waiting for this conversation to turn dark. “Can’t say I much trust an archdevil with Hope.”
“Even you understand the symbiosis of archdevils and devils alike,” his voice was stern now, growing frustrated by your indignation. “You need us to exist, to balance everything out.”
“Get on with it, Raphael. Or I’ll have your tongue.”
“Not that it’s anywhere as useful as yours, conning your audience out of their money.” He scoffed, looking down his nose at you.
“What do you want?” you hissed, hoping no one overheard. Especially considering the use of magic was a criminal offense in city limits.
“Everything that is rightfully mine. Avernus, Cania. All of it. A preconceived notion that you stole from me.” Raphael was entitled, a petulant child that craved all the candy in the shop. If it existed, he wanted it. All of it.
“Why would I ever help you?” You spat with all the vitriol that could mustered.
“Because I can restore something you lost long ago, something carelessly abandoned. “Love. Something even Yelmys can’t offer.”
“What?” You played dumb, pretending you didn’t understand. Hearing the name of the politician you were blackmailing didn’t help either. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb,” Raphael tutted, watching as you chewed your bottom lip nervously. Could he really bring back the love of the man you wanted more than anything?
There was no choice but to find out.
......
Astarion had always found the museum of art to be rather kitsch. The impressionist paintings of melting clocks or abstract vulva sculpture did very little for him. He’d seen centuries worth of the arts and thought it had certainly deteriorated over the years.
Though he expected she’d be here, settled in front of that painting that he despised. A work of oil paints, a couple embracing in front of a wall of fire. Tav loved the tragically romantic, the idea of holding a lover at death’s door.
Eyes rolling at thought, as one hand swiftly pushed glasses up into a nest of silvery curls. The walls were a deep maroon, lights brights as he navigated a gauche maze of the overrated and unappealing. He preferred indie galleries, where swanky parties were held for opening exhibits.
Tav sat exactly where he expected to find her, wearing a baggy black sweater and leggings that matched the wall paper, hair tightly wound into twin braids and buns as usual. Motes of dust hung in the air beneath the light illuminating the painting. He’d wondered how long she’d been there already. It was a favorite pastime to clear a troubled mind.
His boots clicked across the buffed tile as he moved to sit beside her, adjusting the loose cardigan draped over a v-neck tshirt. Violet eyes, however, remained glued on the canvas. If it was an attempt to ignore him, it was working though her nose twitched at the scent of a musky cologne. Dusky pink lips curled into a smirk as her heart skipped a frantic beat.
How delightful.
“What are you thinking?” His eyes settled on the painted couple, the woman clutching desperately at the chest of the man’s doublet as he held her. Her raven hair was wild in the wind, his auburn curls taut and wiry. 
Are you thinking of me?
“Mostly wondering how to untangle the past,” she sighed, gaze still frozen ahead. “How to fix it, make sense of everything.”
“Concerning us?” It hadn’t occurred to him until how close they were in proximity, shoulders brushing against one another. “Or something else?”
“A little of column a, a little of column b.” A smile ghosted across her lips before disappearing drearily.
“Gods, you’re so obtuse,” he nudged her playfully, wanting any reaction. Plum painted lips curled downward instead. “Would you like to come over for a fitting?”
“What?” This was the first time she turned to address him, suspicion etched across soft features. “You’re sewing a dress for me? After I made an absolute fool out of myself?”
“It isn’t because I’m charitable,” eyes as dark as wet rubies bore into her own, “Wyll may or may have covered the charges.”
“He didn’t need to do that.” She mulled over the thought for a moment, chewing the tip of her tongue. “Though I won’t question it. Especially after he and Kar attempted to play matchmaker.”
“A decade has passed. I think we’ve both moved on.”
Neither had, that fact hanging plainly in the air.
“They didn’t get the message.” Tav joked dourly, dimpled divots appearing beneath the apple of each cheek. She was cherubic in nature, often making the vampire think she was a fallen angel or even an aasimar. “What day should I stop by?”
“Why not Monday afternoon?” he added a little too quickly, already wanting an excuse to see her again. Besides, Evie was supposed to be away that day. “It’ll give me time to make alterations and add finishing touches on Sunday night. It’ll be perfect.”
“Thank you,” his gaze dropped between them, hand awkwardly squeezing the dip of her elbow. “I’m sorry. About before.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Dark eyes lingered on a rosy hand, remembering how nicely it folded into his own. How she practically melted his cool exterior, like throwing ice in a fire. He’d grown to appreciate it, missing such a sensation that had been unexpectedly stolen. Tearing his eyes away, he saw the time on his wristwatch. “ Shit , I have a meeting with a potential client at their penthouse.”
“Now?” Tav watched with piqued interest as he jumped up, doing the same. “When?”
“Twenty minutes from now. Uptown. I can make it if I hail a cab.” He gingerly took her hand in his, bringing it up to lush lips she desperately wished were pressed against her own. “It was good to see you. Today and yesterday, even if we did have a row. I’ll see you Monday?”
“Of course,” her smile was wistful, though Astarion didn’t notice, turning on his heel. He didn’t know about the deal she made or the words she swallowed. Something that would make him livid, angry and snarling like a rabid dog. An absolute bombshell that was bound to splinter their relationship further yet.
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shychick-52 · 5 months
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Here are some Gyro (2017) headcanons I have (longish list, be warned):
After the original Tokyolk incident, young Gyro's reputation was pretty much ruined within the international scientific community, until he got hired by Scrooge (the only one to ever really give him a chance for ten years- Frank confirmed that Gyro worked for Scrooge for a decade or something, and it was stated in 'Astro B.O.Y.D.' the Tokyolk incident happened 20 years ago- so I'm not sure what he did for the first decade until Scrooge hired him, tho).
Because he's Scrooge McDuck, I definitely think Scrooge knew about the Tokyolk incident (how could he not?? Not only was it surely huge international news, but the guy's a globe-trotter extraordinaire), but was willing to give Gyro a chance because: (1) he saw amazing potential in him and his genius, and (2) he's usually on the side of the underdog and the misfit.
Scrooge promised Gyro to never tell another soul about what happened, because that was strictly his business- including Donald and Della, and the Board ofc.
Gyro always had great respect, trust, and gratitude for Scrooge for both giving him a chance and for keeping his secret.
Gyro's inventions officially started turning evil and backfiring nearly ever since the Tokyolk incident (which he always thought was the first instance of an invention of his turning evil).
After some time passed after Gyro got hired by Scrooge, Scrooge began approving of his inventions less and less, especially once Bradford and the Buzzards weaseled their way on as his Board and gained Scrooge's trust to "make good financial decisions" for his company, as stated in Gyro's debut episode 'The Great Dime Chase' (Scrooge mostly trusted the Board, but definitely argued with them about a lot of things, such as firing certain staff and cutting funding for certain other things he deemed necessary).
Eventually, Gyro strongly suspected the only reason Scrooge never fired him- since, from his perspective, he seemed to have lost faith in him for a long time (disapproving of his inventions, telling him they're crazy and dangerous like everyone else thinks, agreeing with the Board when they deny him funding)- is because he enjoys both seeing him fail and laughing at him like everyone else does; this likely deeply hurt him, because he'd thought at least Scrooge understood him, but at the same time he still couldn't help but always look to Scrooge with respect and gratitude for hiring him in the first place.
At some point, especially the more Gyro's inventions turned evil and the more his reputation continued to sink until it seemed it couldn't get any worse, Gyro just accepted and even ironically embraced his label as a mad scientist; as much as he truly resented it and it hurt, he thought if all anyone ever saw in him was a dangerous crackpot and a mad scientist, that's what they would get.
He always believed- or at least deeply feared- that his inventions turning evil meant, deep down, he was evil too; and whenever he told others his inventions weren't "all evil, just wildly misunderstood", he was referring to himself just as much, trying to convince himself of this too.
Gyro's arrogance and emotionally distancing himself from others was mostly a cover for the deep insecurities that plagued him ever since Tokyolk, a mask to convince both others and himself he's anything but a weak loser and a useless failure (I think Frank even confirmed this one on here, at least more or less).
Gyro deliberately made a point of not remembering the names of most of the people in his life (except for Scrooge, obviously, and Manny- who Frank said Gyro gave the name 'Manny', which explains why he remembers it) because he was scared of getting too close to them, or them getting too close to him- to quote Donald, "somebody always gets hurt", whether it's Gyro or the ones in his life (take the Spear of Selene incident, for example)- and also because he was terrified that if he risked letting people in, they'd see him for the failure and the monster he was even more than they likely already did.
Akita very likely always treated Gyro like a worthless failure (and it always tore at his self-esteem), so when the Tokyolk incident happened with '2-BO' and shattered the majority of the rest of his self-image, Gyro always thought his mentor was right about him after all.
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@thatduckisgay
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jasontoddssuper · 6 months
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I feel like the reason so much content of the Batkids is so ooc and unrealistic and if i'm being mean straight up corny in a bad way is that the fandom dosen't understand the particular type of siblings they are.I don't mean adoptive since they're not normal adoptive siblings-in the sense that they weren't all raised together under the same roof by the same parent(s)-but found siblings,which is a very important distinction when it comes to potrayals.I'm not gonna go into detail so i don't make anyone uncomfortable and it would derail my points anyway but i'm like them in the sense that i have a shit ton of trauma that nobody else understood or sympathized with until my friends who i now see as my siblings in addition to my biological ones came along and also like them,we're not all the same age so that effects our relathionships with eachother.To elaborate by using the Batkids as examples since this post is about them:
Dick has gotten the 'Ultra Responsible Perfect Eldest SiblingTM' and 'Adult who's so goofy and sweet they're literally mentally a child/teen who can't do anything by themself' roles shoved onto him equally popularly by different sections of the fandom and yet somehow also some of the same ones.As someone who has a pretty similar position to him with his own found younger siblings,neither of those are accurate At All.He does his best to be a positive influence on the other Batkids and someone who they can turn to when they have problems but also dosen't treat them like they're his students or something rather than his family and joins in on their silly shenanigans and encourages them to do dumb kid shit because he knows they deserve to act their age and that's what a good eldest sibling is.Not an 'i'm so much better than you' robot or a manchild but someone who you can both look to for help and who's your friend .Him and the others for that matter deserve nothing else.Related to that,please erase the idea that he can't both an older sibling and a parental figure-One of my younger friend's literally calls me 'Mom' and 'Dad'.They can and do co-exist.Also this leads to accidentally treating them as younger than they are and he gets mixed reviews /lh
Jason's the edgy mean one yeah yeah but trust me,that does not mean any of the Batkids don't bully him or know they're cooler than him.In fact,that's the exact reason they do!This especially applies to Cass because trust me,they're NOT big bro and soft uwu sis-They're basically the dynamic fanon gives Jason and Tim only Cass is Jason and Jason is Tim.SHE'S the super cool goth big sibling,not him.And speaking of Jason,him and Duke are peak of playing favorites with eachother.They do everything together and share their stuff with eachother without needing to be asked and get up to weirdest shit in the middle of the night when they're low on sleep.You know that pic of a guy hacking a computer hunched over while his friend stands on his back and is on the phone?Actual Red Hood and The Signal sighting at the library at 2 in the morning(Not clickbait)
I assure you none of Tim's siblings other than Jason and Damian were ever out to get him and if they were,he would've confronted them about it like two decades ago because he has about as much tolerance for that kinda treatment as he has lack of rizz(Read:None).It's very obvious they all love him and vice versa and i'd go as far as to call it toxic and harmful to irl siblings regardless of blood relation to erase something so important to his healing from his earlier childhood trauma.I get that y'all love drama but you can't write it so maybe try parodies,your style is hilariously bad enough to fit them.Also:They definitely tease him for his stereotypical (half) white boy tastes and he plays along with it because well,what kind of detective would he be if he denied truth with proof?The awnser is a cop btw
Damian is their whole world.I love my younger found siblings so much and i'm always complimenting them and coming up with the dumbest shit to make them laugh and indulging them in their interests-Speaking of which,seeing as all the Batkids are autistic-coded and me and almost all my friends are too,they definitely all have special interests that're mostly different from eachother's but they're's always overlap and even if they don't,THEY WILL MAKE THEM.Also once again if anybody is getting jokes of how much they wanna kick his ass,it's not him but Jason.Taste of your medicine and all that
And they definitely see Stephanie as part of them and show it to her-Dosen't matter that she's not adopted by Bruce,they're vigilantes so they play by their own rules and Stephanie RULES.Oh and with the exception of formely Tim and forever Cass because they're literal soulmates by choice,none of them would ever want their relathionships with her to ever be seen in even the slightest romantic light and find the thought actively disturbing.Like dude......That's our sister,please take your leave and don't come back(Also as far as Dick is concerned,she's a literal toddler and Slade is his archenemesis for a reason)
Last thing-They definitely have a group chat because yes,that's an actual thing among siblings but it is a MESS.You know all those twitter aus of them?Yeah they don't post that shit in public ever in their life but catch them sending all that and more in The Batnest(Duke picked the name.He thinks he's a comedic genius and he's right)
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marblecakemix · 2 months
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hey, about your blog intro you said that you don't hate trans people but you hate their ideology, do you mind explaining what you mean?
Not at all! It came out kinda long, I hope you don't mind.
The first thing I hate the most about gender ideology is "trans kids". I'm strongly against stuffing children with hormones that their young and still developing bodies do not need. I believe that children cannot give consent to irreversible hormonal therapy and surgeries. Especially when hormones have a huge impact on their mental and physical development (just look at how different levels of estrogen in a woman's body change how she acts). A lot of adults aren't sure about transitioning and sometimes regret parts of it, how can a child make such a difficult and life-altering decision? There are safer and healthier ways of testing the waters (that should last at least 2 years to be sure), like changing the style of clothes, using different pronouns and assimilating more with the opposite sex. Why is that not the first thing recommended to those kids?
And to the people who deny any of that happening. Today at the mall I saw a 14/15 y/o girl on testosterone (I and my friend could tell by how uncharacteristically low her voice was). She clearly was not doing well, she had that empty look in her eyes (speaking from experience). She was maybe a head smaller than me (I'm 155cm/5'1) and she'll most likely never grow taller and will probably end up obese, because of taking testosterone so early. In my country gay marriage is illegal, but you are free to butcher a child's natural growth with hormones? That does not seem right.
The second thing is how transness is presented nowadays. You don't need to have gender dysphoria (even though it's the first thing you would need to be diagnosed with a decade ago to transition which was the essential thing in transsexualism)! You don't even have to want to change at all! Now all you need to do is to check the criteria of "feeling trans/like different gender" which is deeply rooted in sexism and operates on stereotypes. What does "feeling like a woman" mean? Women-feelers want to wear all pink, revealing clothing, have big bouncy boobs, act stupid, and be annoying? That sounds pretty sexist to me. Same with "feeling like a man". A man is not someone who likes bears, fishing, and cars, we all know that. You can't feel like a man/woman, because sex is not based on feelings, interests, and personality which the opposite is one of the fundamentals of being trans according to gender ideology. The most harmful thing I see that comes out of it is women (usually identifying as non-binary) say things like, I don't feel like a woman, because I have a complex personality and can think on a higher level than a toddler. That's sexism all throughout that gender ideology supports wholeheartedly.
Another thing is borderline occultic behaviors I see in gender ideology believers. They pray on the young and vulnerable and tell them that the irreversible change to their body will fix all their problems (that have usually nothing to do with gender dysphoria). The activity discourages people from looking into research on topics that questions the ideology and show the negative side of it. They vandalize, attack, and kill people who are against their ideology. They expect that their minority rights will have more power than 99% of the world's population. They usually are only or mostly friends with themselves. They advocate for children to be taken away from their families just because the family is questioning their child's behavior. Straight-up lying about statistics and research results like how the newest research says that people who transition are more likely to take their own lives than before transitioning and I don't think you'll ever hear about that from gender ideologist. There's a lot more, but I can't think of another example now.
Those are the main reasons why I hate gender ideology. I hope that this answers your question. If you want to ask about anything more specific, go ahead!
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myobsessionsspace · 2 months
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Looking at jikook's behaviour especially from the last 2-3 years, it's apparent that they are pretty inseparable. From spending a lot of time with each other during pandemic to ptd times and then flash forward - enlisting together.
Even when Jimin was busy for his album, it was very apparent that jungkook missed him, inviting him multiple times too.
Even though people think they didn't meet up in 2023, it soon became obvious that they did, because they can't just 'not be close ' and suddenly enlist together.
Whatever they are to each other, I'm seeing a pattern of a (almost extreme) dependency. Which makes me think that we might be seeing this behaviour from them even in future, after MS.
Please don't get me wrong, I don't claim them to be dating each other. Because who really knows? But this absolute dependency they have on each other makes me think how would they navigate if they ever have an official public relationship with different partners.
Now hypothetically, can you imagine Jungkook in the same room ( let's say a couch) with a gf and Jimin? We know his whole attention and physical body language changes around Jimin. How would a gf feel with a boyfriend who's more attentive to his guy friend than to her?
( I'm assuming gf because it's hard to come out with a same gender partner in S Korea)
Hello lovely!
Thank you for the ask, I’m gonna answer it in two parts, one about their ‘codependency’ and two about a hypothetical girlfriend being added to their dynamic.😉
Jikook Close Enough Orr Too Close?
Yes they’re close, the closest, the I am you, you are me duo. It’s insane those that believe them to be their favourites still deny this, from early days until now. They work together and play together 
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I’m so grateful they have each other to push each other, like when they stay after to practice together or like when one give the other vocal help.
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I’m also happy that they *like* each other, they like cooking together, watching movies together, going to concerts, ice skating, restaurants and escape rooms together. 
Like the rest of us we saw times in chapter two when one really missed the other, when one was worried about the other over working themselves, when one wanted to eat chicken, go live or box together. 
BUT they have also done well with all the constraints of idol life and being in THE biggest  global group with their hectic and publicised life to have cultivated a life outside of the group and of each other (well not completely).
Jikook have their own interests, hobbies, homes, family and friends. We’ve been able to spot Jimin travel the world with friends, go to shows with friends, relax at home alone etc.
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Jungkook, I find due to his introversion, has always been more of the homebody out of the two (I can always give example of his well documented introversion if asked 😉) however he’s actually come a long way in recent years. More than just staying in and gaming all of his free time away, in addition to with Jimin, he also has been spending more quality time with his friends, spending time on his hobbies, going on meat tours etc.
The two are able to not be around each other 24/7 and still have full lives, Jungkook is still deep down an introvert and if not out with a select few close friends would rather enjoy himself at home, one of the bonuses of that for us is that he can feel no issue with being on live whilst enjoying being with himself at home, over a decade of sharing his life on the camera with ARMY has allowed us that window. 
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Jikook like each other and like spending time with each other but they also show maturity in making sure they invest time into themselves, into their other friends, sometimes these friends even overlap, because who says they have to keep each other separate from other aspects of their lives?
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They compliment each other and are doing a good job of it. If we do see them as together, they work together AND see each other and after all these years still like each other?! They’ve got a balance that seems to work for them. They’re able to still dedicate time to the other members, even when it seems like they’re constantly in a Jikook bubble.
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Yes we may get more Jikook jikooking, but with the added public understanding that they went through 18 months of life changing, unforgettable, intense comrade bonding.
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But I’m not worried about them after their service, the days of 'unhinged, bold and reckless' fetus jikook are mostly gone, they know when to push the envelope and when not to. They’re not new to this, they’re true to this 💪
Jimin & Jungkook plus a ‘She’
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With this, I think of it as if either Jimin or Jungkook had a girlfriend, cos why just Jungkook with Jimin being the third wheel, hmmm👀? Jiminie has given us a lot of queer coding, he’s been literally painted the bisexual flag.
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Bi-erasure is real y'all 😪
Jimin could also be the one in this hypothetical scenario, as much or maybe even more than Jungkook, when it comes to a girlfriend in the mix. 
Before getting to the woman, It actually would say more to how f*ck*d up Jikook themselves would be as her boyfriend, getting involved with a woman and bringing them around the other to act like that around her. Those aren’t the type of men I could be fans of ☹️
It would actually say more about them as people to add an unsuspecting woman into the mix of a bond that allows for many questions as to the nature of it. Why would either one of them even do that to even have this scenario occur?? We know they aren’t heartless a**holes but even this fake scenario makes me upset for the third party 😭
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On the hypothetical girlfriend side…to be honest it is possible with the dynamic that Jikook have, for a girlfriend to join them and them still have their bond continue with some adjustments.
It would have to be a special sort of woman, confident in herself, in her differences to either of them. She wouldn’t be a carbon copy of Jimin or Jungkook, she would have to be someone who has qualities not found in Jimin or Jungkook, but compliment them either way. She would have to be someone that would also platonically fall in love with the best friend of her boyfriend. She would have to be someone firm to set boundaries with skinship etc but not controlling to allow their friendship to continue to thrive. She would  have to be a welcome addition to their friendship time, but also be confident enough to leave them to have their own time, someone the boyfriend would crave individual time with her also.
It’s more the type of character of the woman that would determine how she’d feel. If she was dating either, she would be confident enough to know that her man isn’t romantically involved with the other. She would be dating him and learning him and understanding his dynamics with his friends, family, co-workers etc.
If she was putting the time in when dating to learn her boyfriend m, it would work, if she was a self assured woman, it would work. If she believed her man not to be gay or not to be romantically interested in the other member then she’d last. 
She wouldn’t even make it to the label stage to be calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend if she couldn’t handle Jimin/Jungkook in her boyfriend’s life. if she couldn’t handle Jikook jikooking, minus skinship, the relationship would be over the first time seeing Jikook together.
It’s possible but it’s a special type of woman. This is all hypothetical and dependent on Jikook only having been nothing more than best friends, the closet duo and platonic soulmates.
If we were trying to insert a girlfriend in the mix for any other scenario then…I dunno love 🥴
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Thank you for your ask and thanks to any readers, likes and comments.
💜
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bisexualseraphim · 18 days
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I gotta say, I am seriously fucking concerned with the amount of people here who seem to wholeheartedly believe that the correct answer to the genocide against Palestine is ANOTHER genocide except the other way around. Please stand back for 2 minutes and seriously think about whether you think it’s ever a helpful or just cause to advocate for the deaths of millions of people, especially when plenty of said people are Jews whose families fled there after barely surviving the Holocaust because hardly anywhere else would treat them like human beings or accept them at all since the antisemitism that allowed the Holocaust to happen was not solely in Germany and didn’t magically disappear after the war ended.
Look. The situation is simple when you boil it down to this: Israel is bombing and starving Palestinians like fish in a barrel and doesn’t want to allow aid to Gaza, which consists of a population of over 50% children. Israel allowed the Nakba and displacement of Palestinians for decades and tries to hide it from public view. This is genocide. The Israeli government is at fault for this. Israel holds the power here because they have the power to bomb and starve millions of people and force them out of their homes, and Palestine certainly does not. It’s an utterly horrific, inhumane thing to do with no excuses for it and it needs to stop. This is the simple part that is glaringly obvious for everyone to see and it’s almost laughable for anyone to deny it.
Okay. You’ve successfully identified the main problem and the “bad guy,” if you want to put it in childish simplistic terms. So the question now is: what next? Say Israel agrees to an immediate ceasefire. What do you, impassioned activist on the internet, propose should be done to solve this situation after that? What should be done to free the Israeli hostages? Do you think the UK and the US, two of the most powerful countries in the world who actively help Israel commit its atrocities against Palestine, will ever do anything to help the Palestinians once Israel loses its power, even if better governments are eventually elected? How should the Palestinian land be claimed back? Where should all the Israeli citizens go? Should they all be forced out to Europe and America, even if that isn’t where they originate from, where the already-rife antisemitism has spiked even further since October 7th and Jews who live thousands of miles from Israel and have nothing to do with Israel’s actions face horrific hate crimes every day? Do Israeli children deserve that? Who’s going to pay for their travel and accommodation? Or, should they all be allowed to stay there and live side by side with the Palestinians? Do you think most Palestinians would be happy to remain neighbours with the citizens of the country that has oppressed them so fiercely for over 75 years, even if said citizens didn’t partake in it or in fact opposed it? What about the 20% of Israeli citizens who are Arab or Palestinian? Do you hold the same opinion of foreign settlers in Israel as you do its citizens whom have made a home there for many generations? How do you discern between settlers and “real” Israelis? Do you see any difference between them at all? Why? And what should be done about Hamas, the group that openly calls for the genocide of all Jews around the world and commits war crimes against Israeli citizens? How much of the history behind Israel’s occupation of Palestine are you aware of? Do you think the British government should be held accountable for splitting Palestine in the first place? How would you go about that? Would it be fair to punish the British people for their government’s actions when British citizens didn’t vote for it? How does that compare to your view of Israel and its citizens, and why?
I am absolutely NOT asking trick questions here or trying to “gotcha!” anyone. I am asking these questions precisely BECAUSE they are extremely difficult to answer, with several of them contradicting each other, and they are meant to get an emotional reaction out of you. I certainly don’t know what the “correct” answers to most of those questions are, and that’s exactly my point: there is no simple answer to a problem that has been going on for decades with such a wide, complex history. Historians and political experts who know all the facts and have studied this shit for years don’t know the answer and it’s honestly insulting to all the people suffering to log on every day and see so many people go “actually 😌 I, a random 20-30 something year old on the internet who isn’t even touched by what’s happening in Palestine, have figured it out before everyone else! Just delete an entire country and all its citizens off the map 😊 This is a moral thing to suggest! And if you disagree with me you’re promoting Zionism/terrorism 😘” There are no simple answers and if you think there is one — and especially if you think that answer is to kick citizens out of the country their family has lived in for generations — then you are both wilfully ignorant and evidently fuelled more by hatred than an actual desire for peace and an end to death and oppression and I don’t believe there is a crumb of sincerity in your activism.
Am I naive enough to think that fighting against oppression and occupation is always going to be peaceful? Obviously not. But you’ve got to think about where and when said violence is actually going to be beneficial, and where and when it’s violence purely for the sake of violence, which is NEVER justified. You can’t advocate for human rights and then turn around and say “oh, but not for you.” EVERYONE deserves food and water. EVERYONE deserves shelter. EVERYONE deserves to receive treatment for sickness or injury. NOBODY deserves cruel and unusual punishment or torture. And EVERYONE deserves to be alive. Those are essential human rights that should never, ever be denied wherever it is possible to give them, and disagreeing with that reflects extremely poorly on you and your principles. Think about what narrative you are pushing when you claim an entire people “deserves” bad things. The constant dehumanisation I see happening in online activism (and far too often in real life too) is actually terrifying and if you want to do some real good in the world, I need everyone reading this to examine their potential internal prejudices, even the ones you don’t think you have, and think about who exactly you’re helping when you express thoughts that perpetuate them, and who you may be harming in the process.
Anyway, now that I’ve gotten that out of the way…
Here are some useful resources if you want to make a difference and help people:
Standing Together (an Israeli movement advocating for ceasefire and peace between Israelis and Palestinians)
Zochrot (an Instagram page that seeks to educate the public about the Nakba)
Parents’ Circle (an organisation run by relatives of Israelis and Palestinians killed in the conflict who advocate for peace)
Operation Olive Branch (a Google Doc of Palestinian families seeking evacuation)
Mesarvot Network (an Instagram page run by young Israelis seeking to refuse the IDF draft and end military violence committed by both Hamas and the IDF)
Other Gaza aid organisations to donate to
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oh-my-im-ply · 26 days
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This is another post which isn't completely ply focused, but I want to take a second to point out the overlap between people who are transmisic and people who exclude/invalidate mspec lesbians.
Last week, I made a post where I mentioned being a polysexual lesbian, and I made a few mspec lesbian pride flags. Yesterday, someone asked if I was polysexual or a lesbian.
On this blog, we have rules for interaction, as well as rules for mods to follow. At the very top, we have a rule against exclusion and invalidation towards good faith identities, and a rule against bigotry and dogwhistles. However, we will answer questions when they may have been asked in good faith.
So, I answered with this:
Both. I'm attracted to many genders, but not binary men, so I find that polysexual and lesbian both describe my orientation well. Other people may identify as a polysexual lesbian for other reasons.
After I answered, the mask came off, and they started being transmisogynistic and nonbinary-exclusionary, and weaponized the existence of bimisia against me. I deleted their comments and blocked them last night, so I can't copy what they said word for word, but I will repeat their key notes under the cut.
CW: bi erasure, exorsexism/nonbinary-erasure, transmisogyny, mentions of genitalia
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"This is what people mean when they talk about bi erasure. You're erasing bi people."
This is a complete misunderstanding of what bi erasure even means. Bi erasure is when you ignore (the existence of) bi people, or outright deny their existence. These are some examples of bi erasure:
Erasing or ignoring bi history.
Saying that bi people need to just "pick a side."
Saying that bi people are secretly straight/secretly gay.
Saying that bi is just "a transitional orientation" or "a phase."
Redefining the broad definition of bisexuality without the consent of the bi community, especially with the intent of telling people that they "aren't really bisexual" or replacing the bi label.
Saying that "everyone is a little bit bisexual," especially with the intent of erasing bisexuality as a distinct category. This can also be a form of erasure against people who aren't bisexual.
Note that "identifying as something other than bi" is not a form of bi erasure, even if you might "technically" fit the definition... Because that is a matter of personal identity.
But do you know what is a form of bi erasure? Erasing bi history. Mspec lesbians (particularly bi lesbians), have existed for decades. It is not a new identity, and bi women and enbies have a right to identify their attractions to women as lesbian attraction if they wish to. The exclusion of bi people from the lesbian label began as a form of bi erasure. It happened because of separatism and political lesbianism, and an idea that attraction to men "tainted" people, or was a "betrayal" to feminism. It happened because of bimisia.
The word "lesbian" has served as an umbrella term synonymous to "sapphic" for over half a century. You want sources? Here you go.
Miller, Trish. Lavender Woman, Vol. 2, No. 5. Lavender Woman Magazine, 1973. "What is a lesbian? To me, a lesbian is a woman-oriented woman; bisexuals can be lesbians. A lesbian does not have to be exclusively woman-oriented, she does not have to prove herself in bed, she does not have to hate men, she does not have to be sexually active at all times, she does not have to be a radical feminist." Ferguson, Ann. Patriarchy, Sexual Identity, and the Sexual Revolution. Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society, 1981. "Lesbian is a woman who has sexual and erotic-emotional ties primarily with women or who sees herself as centrally involved with a community of self-identified lesbians whose sexual and erotic-emotional ties are primarily with women; and who is herself a self-identified lesbian."....."[My definition] defines both bisexual and celibate women as lesbians as long as they identify themselves as such and have their primary emotional identification with a community of self-defined lesbians." Kafele, Dajenya Shoshanna (1991). Bisexual Lesbian. Archived from the original on July 25, 2022. Queen, Carol A.. Strangers at Home: Bisexuals in the queer movement,. 1992. "A great many bisexual women, particularly those who are feminist and lesbian-identified, have felt both personally and politically rejected and judged by the separatist sisters." Kafele, Dajenya Shoshanna. "Which Part of Me Deserves to Be Free?". Bisexual Politics: Theories, Queries, & Visions. New York : Haworth Press, 1995. ISBN 9781560249504. "Personally, I am unable to separate out the various ways that I am oppressed (as a woman, as an African American, as a bisexual lesbian, as an impoverished single mother) and say that one oppression is worse than the other, or that I desire one form of liberation more than another." Wyeth, Amy. "Don't Assume Anything". Bi Women: The Newsletter of the Boston Bisexual Women's Network. Vol. 5, No. 2, 1995. "Unfortunately, many of my experiences as a lesbian-identified bisexual woman have said to me that having an appearance or demeanor that diverges from the expected means I will not be accepted as truly belonging in the lesbian community. Despite my attendance at gay pride parades, dollars spent at gay resorts and in support of gay causes, and numerous attempts to participate in gay and/or lesbian groups and volunteer events, I have often felt unaccepted by this community." Holleb, Morgan Lev Edward. The A-Z of Gender and Sexuality. Jessica Kingsley Publishers, 2019. ISBN 9781784506636. "LESBIAN — A woman who is sexually or romantically attracted to women. Lesbian can mean women who are attracted exclusively to other women, but it is also a broader term for women and femmes who are attracted to other women and femmes. This includes bisexual and pansexual women, asexual women who are romantically attracted to women, and non-binary people who identify with womanhood." Lesbian. The Trans Language Primer. Archived from the original on October 22, 2021.
Does this mean bi people have to identify as lesbians, or "aren't actually" bi, or can't just identify as bi? Obviously not, and I never said that was the case. That would be bi erasure, because that's policing bi people's identities and forcing them under labels that they may not want to be included under. But in the circumstance that a bi person also identifies as a lesbian, they have every right to do so. Bi-inclusive definitions of lesbianism have existed for at least 51 years, and still exist today.
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"Attraction to men, binary or not, means you're not a lesbian."
See above for why the lesbian identity is not always dependent on a lack of attraction to men, binary or not. But lets focus on the nonbinary part specifically:
Nonbinary people can people included in lesbianism and lesbian attraction if they want to be. Yes, that includes all nonbinary genders. Even if attraction to men inherently disqualified a person from lesbianism, nonbinary genders cannot be confined to binary gender rules (even when they're aligned with binary genders) because they're nonbinary. Treating nonbinary genders like they're "functionally the same as binary genders" is a form of nonbinary erasure, regardless of gender alignment.
Whether nonbinary people are included in lesbianism or not is entirely up to each individual nonbinary person regarding their own identity. It is not dependent on the gender label used; it is dependent on how each nonbinary person feels about it on an individual level.
The implication that manhood inherently dominates and erases the rest of a person's identity is also troubling. If you accept that nonbinary people can be included in lesbianism, you must also accept that nonbinary men can be included in lesbianism. A nonbinary man is still nonbinary; their manhood doesn't erase that.
As a pangender lesbian, I've had to deal with the experience of people not only erasing my enbyhood, but my womanhood as well, because they think my manhood is the only relevant aspect of my identity. This is misogynistic and exorsexist, plain and simple, and people use this misogyny/exorsexism to tell me that I'm not a lesbian.
With all of that said, nonbinary people (of any gender alignment) are not always comfortable being included in lesbianism. This is why I describe myself as both polysexual and a lesbian; the polysexual part of my orientation acknowledges that my attraction to enbies can't always be described with my more binary-aligned labels.
And funnily enough, while some people tell me that I can't be a lesbian and can only be polysexual, other people tell me the opposite. So clearly, there isn't a consensus on which label is "correct" for me.
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"If it has a dick, you can't be a lesbian."
This is just blatant mask off transmisogyny, and it's the main reason I blocked them. Do I even need to explain what's wrong with this? Even under a strictly monosexual definition of lesbianism, this statement is just false. Being attracted to people with penises does not equal being attracted to men. If a lesbian is exclusively attracted to women, including women with penises, that lesbian is attracted to only one gender and is not bisexual or mspec.
Any gender can have a dick. Lesbians can have dicks. Women can have dicks. The presence of a penis or lack thereof is not a defining trait of lesbianism, nor monosexuality. And for fuck's sake, maybe don't call your hypothetical trans woman "it"??
"Mspec lesbian" does not mean "lesbian who is attracted to vaginas and penises," and if you think that's what it means, you need to educate yourself. Yes, this includes any people who might identify as an mspec lesbian because of that transmisogynistic definition.
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This blog is an inclusive space. If you come in here to spew bigoted or exclusionary nonsense, expect to be blocked. Think before you speak, and please read our rules.
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booksteaandtoomuchtv · 7 months
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Witchy Woman (5/10)
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0.5 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | AO3 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10
art by @cocohook38
Summary: When Emma came into her position as Storybrooke Coven Leader, she ended things with the powerful Vampire Overlord, Killian Jones. She’s spent over a decade working alongside him and ignoring the growing tension between them.
During his best mate’s wedding, Killian decides he is done waiting. He is ready to have his mate back in his arms (and bed) again. Emma is not an easy woman to woo, but Killian has never backed down from a challenge.
When Emma’s jilted ex-boyfriend returns to town and Emma goes missing, Killian will stop at nothing to get her back and ensure that nothing can ever separate them again.
Rating: E
CW: Mention of domestic abuse, blood and blood drinking (vampires), threatening situations, minor violence, death, mention of parental death
Entry for Captain Swan Supernatural Summer 2023 (@cssns)
Tagging: @anmylica, @elfiola, @goforlaunchcee, @jrob64, @kmomof4 , @stahlop, @teamhook, @tiganasummertree, @undercaffinatednightmare, @xarandomdreamx, @zaharadessert
A big thank you to @kmomof4 for her cheerleading and sanity-checking.
The kitchen was filled with the smell of roasted potatoes and vegetables, hot oil sizzled and popped as Killian laid the sea bass filets in the pan, and the wine had rested. All that remained for the evening to begin was the arrival of a certain stubborn witch he spent a decade chasing. Humming to himself, he grabbed his glass from the counter and took a sip. Then, he turned the fish to brown the other side. 
Despite the disturbing site that they investigated this afternoon, his heart was weightless with the joy of having his mate in his house. After waking up with her nestled against him on his couch this morning, he became fixated on getting her to return home; his vampiric instincts desperate to be surrounded by her scent and to provide her with all the protection that he was able. It was difficult to deny his protective instincts around her, especially after last night’s encounter with Neal. 
After he made coffee for them this morning, they discussed the strangeness of the encounter in more detail. Killian was concerned that Emma hadn’t been able to sense Neal’s magical signature before he approached her. A witch as powerful as Emma was able to pick up on signatures from a considerable distance. Emma brushed it away as being too distracted to notice. But sensing magic was second nature to supernatural beings - he couldn’t shake the worry something more was happening. When he raised the objection that she had also been able to access her magic for a few moments, she had shut down the conversation - Leave it alone, Killian. 
There was more to that exchange than Emma was seeing. She kept blaming herself, inventing weaknesses that he knew she did not have, for Neal’s attack. Even now, his jaw ticked and his fist clenched in frustration that she was blaming herself for that prick’s behaviour. He would have eliminated that worthless vampire after she had fallen asleep last night, but she made him promise that he would let her handle Neal. 
“You left the door unlocked,” Emma said by way of greeting as she walked into his kitchen from the entry. He switched off the stove, put the fish filets on their plates, and turned to watch her approach and he was filled with the want to experience this every evening for the rest of his life. A plate with four chai cupcakes was in one hand, likely Mary Margaret’s handiwork, and a duffle bag hung from her shoulder.
Killian cocked an eyebrow. “Can I take your bag?”
“Erm, well,” Emma started, looking anywhere but at his face. She set the cupcakes near their dinner plates on the island between them and dropped the bag at her feet.
Squaring her shoulders, she looked at him and tried again. “I was, I mean, I thought just in case…” 
“Just in case,” he repeated, his tone filled with feigned innocence. “Shall I take it to the guest room? Just in case the evening runs long?” 
She narrowed her eyes at him, but her face had turned a rich red that immediately became his favourite colour. “No, no need. It was ridiculous, Mary Margaret caught me leaving and…I will put it back in the car.”
Killian’s eyes were bright with humour. “Aye, that is likely for the best.” 
He had picked up the bag and looped the strap over his shoulder before she could blink. He was clearly suppressing a smile as he walked out of the kitchen with it in the opposite direction of his guest rooms, in the direction of his bedroom. He was back almost as quickly as he’d left, the bag deposited, and a crooked smile on his face. 
Killian didn’t attempt to hide the fact his fangs had descended at the thought of having Emma in his room and in his bed. His smile broadened when Emma had caught sight of them; it wasn’t the scent of fear that had filled the space between them and threatened to pull him under. Her arousal surrounded him and after over a decade of celibacy, the irresistible scent was driving him mad with desperation.
§§§§    §§§§    §§§§    §§§§    
“Swan.” His voice was hoarse with need and warning, and his blue eyes rolled with the bright starlight of magic, evidence that his control was slipping. Killian rarely let his vampiric nature free and Emma felt a shiver run through her body at the realisation that she was the reason it was surfacing now. He cleared his throat and leashed his self-control before speaking again. "Swan, if you were planning on eating then you need to think about something else. Your desire is," he took in a deep breath, "commanding me, love."
Eyes bright with challenge and humour, Emma reached toward the cupcakes between them on the granite island. She swiped a bit of frosting onto her finger and lifted her hand slowly toward her lips. Killian tracked the action but he stood completely, unnaturally still, battling to keep his control tightly in place. 
“I’ll just have dessert.” Emma placed her frosted finger on the tip of her tongue. She kept her eyes on his; his shattered expression encouraged her further. She wrapped her lips around her finger and sucked it clean. She pulled her finger from her lips with a soft pop and a wicked smile on her face.
She leaned on the counter to reach again for the cupcakes, coating her finger in more frosting. His hook captured her wrist and his hand gripped her hips, holding her in place, his sapphire and starlight gaze holding hers as he guided her finger to his lips, slowly, allowing her every opportunity to stop him. 
Emma had no intention of stopping him. 
He closed his lips around her, his tongue sweeping off the frosting and circling the pad of her finger in an explicit reminder of all the incredible things that tongue could do to her. The sensation of him sucking lightly and her memory of his mouth on her neck, on her nipples, and on her clit made her clench her thighs together to ease the sudden ache. 
A strangled sound, somewhere between a moan and a plea, escaped her when he scraped his sharp fang against her finger. He relinquished it with a satisfied, “Mmm, delicious.”
“Mary Margaret makes the best frosting.”
“I wasn’t talking about the cupcakes, Swan.” He pulled her closer to him with the hand still snug on her hip. He brushed his lips softly against hers in both question and invitation. Emma's heart raced as she closed the distance between them, placing a demanding kiss on his lips and providing him with her answer. 
She tasted the frosting that lingered on his lips as she deepened their kiss further. She pushed her body against his and felt his cock pressed between them. Keeping her body tight to him so her movements would provide some friction against his sensitive head, she rolled her hips against him. A low groan rumbled through him at the action. Breaking away from her lips, he kissed and nipped his way down her neck to her shoulder. 
“Emma.” His voice was broken and his expression was shattered. She vaguely registered that her posture was requesting and welcoming a vampire to drink from the vein. She was confident that he would never take what she didn’t offer; her heart still fluttered excitedly when he scraped his fangs lightly over her skin.
His hand slipped under her shirt, flames sparking wherever his fingers touched. He rolled her nipple between his fingers, sucking at the other through the thin fabric of her shirt. The flat of his hook continued to apply pressure against her hip, keeping her pressed firmly against him. 
“Killian.” She moaned. Her mind was too jumbled with sensations to say anything beyond his name. He was there to provide her with all she wanted - his lips and fingers exactly where she needed them. 
He was everywhere. 
Still, she needed more. 
Killian lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He smiled wickedly at her. “I have dreamt of having you needy in my arms and my name falling desperately from your beautiful lips for so long, Emma.”
She made some incoherent noise in response as she ground her hips against him. The resulting friction gave her a little reprieve from the tension building in her body. “I need…” 
“Mmmhm, I know.” He carried her toward his bedroom. Kissing and nipping desperately at her neck, throat, shoulders, and anywhere else to which he could gain access as he walked. 
Once they had crossed the threshold, he set her down gently on her feet. She whined in protest. Killian chuckled lowly as he made quick work of her belt and the buttons on her jeans. She pushed her jeans down hurriedly as he tugged them off, both eager to carry on what they had started in the kitchen. Killian tossed her jeans off to the side, kicked aside his own trousers, and swept her back into his arms, her legs wrapping tightly around him once more.
They came back together with desperate kisses. Emma raked her fingers through his hair, tugging him closer to her to deepen every kiss. Killian tightened his arm around her, his strength and warmth providing her comfort that she hadn’t realised she needed and had missed for so long. She wanted him to surround her and fill her so completely that everything else would cease to exist. 
“I need to hear you, Emma,” Killian demanded, voice low, into her ear. His cock was teasing as he rubbed his head against her clit. 
She laid her head back on the wall, rocking her hips, desperate to pull him in deeper. Killian held her up, hook refreshingly cool under her left thigh, preventing her from being able to take in any more of his hardened cock. He tsked. “Love, give me what I need. I will give you your every desire.”
His voice sent a wave of pleasure through her body, the promise something she knew he could and would deliver on. “I am yours.” She rolled her hips and was rewarded with a magical flash in his blue eyes accompanied by a groan she felt more than heard. “I belong to you, Killian.”
“Aye, that you do.” He flashed her a heartbreakingly beautiful smile. His pupils were blown wide with only a thin, bright ring visible around them. The creature within was slipping the tight leash he always kept on it; her words of surrender and acceptance, after all of these years without them, pulled out the most primal desires from the powerful vampire holding her against the wall. He slammed into her, arm wrapped tightly around her hips to hold her steady as he set a demanding, almost punishing, pace. 
Her head fell to his shoulder, her breathing erratic as she felt her body tightening around him. 
“Good, Emma.” He didn’t let up the pace, murmuring soft and encouraging words in between them as he slammed into her. 
She pulled at him, desperately, she needed to be closer to him. As the tension low in her stomach grew, she let out a throaty sound, a mixture of a moan and his name. 
She wasn’t sure what she’d meant to say, but Killian seemed to understand.
“That’s it, love, let go. I’ve got you.” He held her tightly, following her over the edge once he felt her shatter around him. 
They stayed like that, his arms tight around her, cock softening inside her, forehead resting against hers, until they were able to steady their breathing. He slowly withdrew and she whimpered at the separation.
“Oh, I am far from done, love.” He took her over to the bed they hadn’t quite made it to before and settled her onto the fluffy duvet. “But, I need you laid out before me for this next part,” he said with a salacious glint in his eye.
§§§§    §§§§    §§§§    §§§§    
After becoming thoroughly reacquainted with one another and reheating the very cold meal they previously abandoned, Emma fell asleep curled in Killian’s arms. They rested, tangled together all night. He woke before her and pulled her close.
He held her tight, basking in the feel of her soft body pressing against his with every breath she took, and drew in a deep breath in hopes of drowning in her scent before the light of the morning could tear them apart. He could not recall a time he had felt so content. At this moment, he was certain he had everything he would ever need or had ever needed in his grasp and he feared letting go. For if he did, he suspected the mirage would fade away and reveal that he dreamt it all. 
In her sleep, she rolled further into him. Her elbow jabbed painfully into his side with the movement, pulling a shocked noise from him. She didn’t wake; he hadn’t expected she would. Waking Emma was nearly impossible, but she wasn’t a peaceful bed partner. She often jabbed sharp elbows into tender bits, tickled his legs with icy toes, threw her arm into his face, wrapped the blankets tightly around her like a cocoon, and muttered the strangest strings of words; but, he would endure it all to keep her tucked beside him. 
Unfortunately, time doesn’t halt to permit even the most powerful vampire to capture every detail of the few perfect moments he is granted. As if mocking him for such sentimental thoughts, the morning arrived sooner than was fair bathing his room in bright, warm sunlight. He muttered low curses at it in a failed attempt to scare it into submitting to his will. It, of course, continued to fill his room. 
Killian gently nudged Emma’s shoulder. She didn’t stir. He lightly touched her side, lingering on spots he knew were ticklish. She grunted in her sleep but didn’t wake. Chuckling to himself, he rolled over so that he was on top of her and kissed her firmly on the lips. She melted into the kiss, releasing a soft sweet sound before her body stiffened as if she were preparing for a fight. Her eyes popped open in surprise when she realised that she was held too firmly to strike her assailant. 
“Good morning, Love,” Killian greeted her. Her body relaxed beneath him. He released his hold on her and kissed her gently on the forehead. Letting out an annoyed sigh, she pulled the blankets tight over her head. Killian pushed off the bed and padded on silent feet to the kitchen.
When he returned with a cup in hand, Emma had already resumed sleeping. The aroma of cocoa and coffee with a touch of cinnamon swirled around the room and a low hmmm rose from the blanket pile in the middle of his bed. Followed shortly by the appearance of her hand grabbing blindly for the cup he held. A soft smile pulled at his lips and the humour danced in his words as he spoke. “I’m not giving you this until you’re sitting up.” 
She clawed out from her position, grunting dramatically at the clearly herculean effort it was taking, her face a mask of annoyance and frustration until she was repositioned. She shot him a look - are you happy, now? Offering her the full mug, he slid onto the bed next to her. A warm, soft emotion filled his chest as he watched her slowly come alive with each sip. 
“Will you spend the day with me?” 
She rewarded him with one of her rare full smiles. His breath caught at the sight of it.
“Depends,” she answered. 
He cocked an eyebrow - oh, really?
“What’re we doing?”
“Good.” He pushed off the bed and started toward the large pass-through closet adjoining his bathroom and bedroom. “We have to get going or we’ll miss it.”
“I haven’t agreed to anything yet,” she called from the bed. 
“Didn’t you?” 
He could feel the eye roll from the other room. Emma not declining his offer or making one of her flimsy excuses to keep her distance between them was the same as her agreeing, and they both knew it. She didn’t reply to his teasing question, but he could hear her moving from the bed and crossing to the dresser where he’d laid out the clothes from her duffle. His heart was light, a smile on his lips and that warmth still filling his chest as he dressed for his second, first date with the woman he had loved since the first, first date. 
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soranihimawari · 6 months
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Be my Light
Pairing: Geto Suguru x Reader// platonic! Gojo x reader
Warning: none(?)// mentions of alcohol & death
Rating: fluff & dark humor
Part 2
Notes: saw the .gif and thought yep! reader is a baddie.
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“So curses are real, huh?”
The cafe is busier today than normal. You’re sitting down with your childhood neighbor’s friend, who is stabbing a poor blueberry to death. To the right, his best friend, the man in white and black, sits humming an affirmative answer to your question.
“And you two… ‘kill’ these things?”
Your jacket and jeweled hand rest easily on your shoulders as you pause to drink your hot latte. It’s autumn now, so your leather jacket comes out of storage and your dark academia jewelry is on display. You were warned by parents and loved ones alike about how you shouldn’t be too friendly with the Gojo heir since his friend is also troublesome, but you don’t take their worries to heart. For the last decade or so, you helped soothe their fears before a mission or especially after tiring ones, you offer your home for them to rest their weary heads. You always left a lamp on in the spare room when you know they’d come back. You don’t know what has transpired since they went off to help keep a young woman safe, but what you do know now is how much Geto and Gojo seem to be affected by her loss.
That was half a year ago now. Here you three were, discussing curses and you asking them questions you might not want to know the answer to, but you press on until Geto stands up and snaps at you for poking into their lives:
“It’s dangerous,” that is all he says and leaves. He doesn’t want to let you know he’s on the precipice of spiraling, so you shrug it off.
Gojo apologies and pays for his and Geto’s drinks.
You don’t hear from them for a week.
In that time, you decide enough is enough. Your parent at home is asleep when you sneak out a quarter to midnight and your feet take you to their dorm area on campus. As quietly as you can, you climb and tap on Geto’s window.
“Su? It’s me,” you say low enough for your voice to travel through the glass. “I-I just haven’t heard from you in a couple days & if Satoru won’t answer me, I jus— ”
The window slides open and you’re pulled into his arms as he gives you the tightest embrace. He smells of cheap alcohol, no doubt an adviser bought it for him to help cope. He just casually lifts me and sits me on his lap when he sits on his bed; he says nothing, but you know he knows and you see it. Bags under his eyes, his thinning face, his baggier than normal clothes. You cup the side of his face, slightly smiling giving him some hope for this to pass.
“I’m not here to tell you what to do,” you whisper. “Or what you should be doing…”
Geto grunts before he growls, “tell me not to go murder every damn monkey in that church. Please.”
You realize he’s proud and arrogant to a fault, but he listens. He adheres to whatever code of friendship he has with Gojo; he has respect for his fellow sorcerers; and you notice whenever Gojo’s not around, he clings to you. You’re an innocent in all this, yet yesterday at the cafe, you asked more questions and the last one caused him to have an epiphany that perhaps a new world order needs to be started. Especially if you have the ‘Eye’.
There is something your childhood neighbor hasn’t told you while you were at a park hanging out over the last couple of days and Geto is around a few feet away—
“Boys, considering your last mission did not go as planned your next one will be a bit easier: considering you know your target.”
Their teacher slides the file of a person with a familiar name and Gojo glances up saying it was a mistake.
“You’re joking,” he’s amused and serious when he passes the file to Geto.
Their teacher and an elder sits down and describes what may occur if they choose to deny this mission: “you either protect your friend and ensure y/n lives to see another day or you have her killed just like…”
“Don’t,” Gojo stands abruptly. “We’ll accept, right Geto?”
Geto asks more important questions like why and what significance does keeping you above ground serve.
The elder straightens up and right as Gojo is about to leave, the elder states: “the Eye can see weak points in a cursed humans body—they can extract the curse without even touching the human—originally found in Korean lore, the Eye is usually passed maternally, from mother to daughter, typically their abilities are active once the mother is dead or hunted. Your friend, yn, is one of the last few remaining in the known sorcerer world.”
Gojo freezes and turns to tell his raven haired friend it’s time to leave. Later in Geto’s dorm room, Gojo reads into the file more. Geto, on the other hand, listens to how his friend rambles on.
“Satoru, you know what to have to do,” Geto sighs as Gojo’s rambling ceases.
“But how can I hide yn, the person you also claimed to be your light in these times, in my void? YN would die there,” Gojo says, a deep melancholy floats heavily on his last words.
Geto, leans forward with his chin resting in a prayer hand pose, elbow to his knees.
“If you don’t do it, I can.”
“You’d do that? You’re cruel.”
“But if it protects yn…”
The conversation lives rent free in Geto’s mind, even now when he hears how you fret over him. Calmly tracing his features, one thing you discovered when you saw Gojo with him the day after your turned nineteen. You tell Gojo you’d rather hang out win your friend; when asked why, you nonchalantly say, “Suguru needs a break from consistent sunshine, right Sugu?” And your smile, your smile brought a solar flare to his hardening soul even if Gojo walked ahead saying you two should date. Your cheeks blush though, as Geto chooses to walk past you, he hears you muttering, “I’d say yes if you’d asked me.” His heart must have stopped immediately the moment you lock eyes with him, soft with affection, understanding that this might be the first-last chance at a youthful romance given where life was taking you, he had no qualms of hiding your relationship while he went on missions.
Gojo finds out naturally one day when he catches his best friend hiding a familiar onyx ring.
“When?” Gojo asks him quietly.
Geto says quiet. It’s been a month since their disastrous mission with the middle schooler. You are consistently checking in with Geto even if it’s by proxy through calling Gojo since the other won’t answer his phone for hours at a time. Geto might not seem like he appreciates it, but he does. It’s the one went that is making him not snap and kill everyone on sight. One night, when you were walking home with him after a series of dead end conversations, you present him the onyx ring, telling him it’s ok to lose himself for a little while. He tries to give it back, but instead, you press it into his palm, close his fist around it and press that fist against his sternum. You cup his frowning face, kissing his forehead lightly, whispering against his skin in the autumnal air: “you have every right to feel these emotions. I’ll be right here to help you if you like.” And just like that, Geto bows his head and he crumbles just a little bit; strong arms shake asking with his shoulders and you, you who seem so small, you soothe him until the sadness, the fatigue, the everything-wrong-with-the-world leaves Geto’s soul alone for minutes, hours even. You don’t know how long he plans to sob into your already soaked shoulders, but you don’t stop him.
“How tragic and full of sorrow you must be,” you whisper against his cheek, running your fingers in his hair. “Things will work out, you’ll see.”
Waving your free arm behind his crouched form as you calm him, several of the most hideous creatures burn away above him. Your warmth is something he cannot get enough of, only then does he see through blurred eyes just how bright you can shine. He calls your name and you glance at him, his tear streaked face now dry, his lips quiver. At the end of the day, you two part ways, but not before Geto, tall and proud, kisses your lips praying he doesn’t fall further in his spiraling descent.
Back in his room, the ring is still in his hand. Geto feels six eyes on him, he knows. Even if Gojo will never attempt to admit loving someone else whether romantic or not, Geto finally has something Gojo cannot have. The onyx ring warps their reflection a bit as their conversation continues.
“Geto Suguru,” Gojo is warning in his tone. “YN is like my family. You already knew what our next mission entails. Are you sure you’re up to the task?”
Geto picks up his long hair and puts it up in a half bun. His dark eyes focus on the ring and turns to Satoru.
“YN deserves to hate one of us,” his voice is calm yet loaded with livid undertones.
“Can you live with it being you?”
Gojo had this annoyed look in those gleaming eyes, but his friend, his dear friend, his charcoal haired brother in arms, turns and with a smile throws back the question to the self-proclaimed strongest:
“Can you?”
Gojo slams the door when he leaves, his mouth dry and feet heavy. He believes he needs to find the resolve to ensure you can survive his technique—like those princess stories where they are cursed sleeping for eternity. Meanwhile, Geto calls one of his seniors who buys him cheap alcohol. It’s the only way he might be able to deal with what they had planned for their mission later in the week.
You’re here now, resting a head against Geto’s shoulders, your ministrations cease as you tell him about what Gojo told you just earlier that night on the phone.
“I know, you don’t have to hide it,” not an ounce of regret in your tone when you kiss his furrowed brow.
Geto’s grip loosens, then tightened, then loosens again. His head is bowed in shame because you were read into this mission, their world, their jobs…
“I won’t hate you,” you continue, voice quiet and Geto has a pained look on his face. “Sugu, I don’t think I ever can.”
You feel his hand reach the back of your neck, circling the nerve that will make you go limp. Grinning, you nod, understanding the implications of the boys’ plan. You persisted to stand by his side, help him through a majority of his darkening times, and for some odd reason in the shower, when he stood there for an hour, both naked and with soaked clothes on, your countenance enters mind—the comfort you provided and still do makes his heart ache. Gojo was wrong, Geto thinks leaving the dorm showers, we never should have accepted this mission.
“You should,” his hand retracts from that spot on your neck and he pushes you forward by the small of your back to kiss you instead.
Your hand presses against his chest as your eyes close and he hums approving of how you move. Geto entices you to follow his lead to deepen this kiss when his canines nibble gently at the top of your lip; you taste the fear and uncertainty but the love and genuine compassion is there. His lips leave yours momentarily, his nose tickles your jaw and his teeth graze your neck before he bites you, sucking the flesh, bruising you. And you bite your bottom lip, sort of chortling away at his eagerness to show you that you too can drive him mad. You call out his name and he pauses, hungrily ready to receive more of your sweetened warmth.
After a moment’s reprieve, you brush away his loose bangs, noticing the hurt and soft loving expression in his dilated eyes.
“Shh...” your breath is hot and you kiss away the tears that escaped his eye. “It will be ok. Everything will work out.”
He is frustrated, you know he’s caught between a rock and a hard place, yet you make him want to try to be better.
You kiss his brow when he holds you tighter, his mouth close to your ear, you hear Geto Suguru, special grade sorcerer, “Don’t make me lose you too.”
You nod, bringing his forehead to rest against yours as you slide your lips over his with more igniting a passion more fierce than earlier. Your fingers tangled in his hair and with a light nudge, you feel him press his tongue against your lip, asking, imploring you to let him memorize the taste of green tea cheesecakes and the shapes of your teeth. He almost moans into your mouth, making sure you are breathing still because heaven forbid Gojo finds you both like this, Geto believes he’d be a dead man. He inflates your lungs in order for you to stay with him longer. Your kisses are powerful, filled with a light that seems to make his shattered heart become filled with gold like those old art pieces. He kisses you like he knows you understand his betrayal and the best part of it? Geto’s the first and last person whom you’d expect to love you—so yes, you do get that teen romance a been craving. Ah, but alas, Geto makes up his mind: he would sacrifice the world to have you back. Even if you’re frozen in time for an eternity. He will watch the universe burn if it meant you breathe again tomorrow.
“Stay still,” are two words you’d never think you’d hear from Geto, yet you obey.
“Let me look at you one last—”
Right outside the door to his dorm, Gojo Satoru drops a bouquet of gardenias along with the resolve to confess how he truly felt since you crashed into his bicycle when he just turned six.
As you stay still, your words are interrupted, Gojo enters the room through a rip in his own void, taking your now unconscious body out of his best friend’s hold. Gojo doesn’t get very far when he hears Geto run behind him and the door to the void closes, snipping edges off Geto’s hair. The last time Geto Suguru sees you is when you are encased in a written and glass coffin in a quiet meadow in Gojo’s void. Gojo Suguru seals it with several layers of a barrier before picking up the ruined gardenias and placing them atop the coffin. You look so peaceful here. Your eyes closed, the bouquet eventually withers, but you stay youthful. Gojo, once the void closes, bows to your sleeping corpse, whispering words of a confession and apology.
Geto memorized that place, so if he does indeed fail, he can find you once more. Panic, depression, obsession. Those three words and their definitions finally cause Geto Suguru to snap. He leaves for his hometown for a fresh start the morning after you are pronounced DOA by a hospital, although you sleep in the glass coffin in one chamber of the limitless void. You dream of Geto finding you; out of the blue you’d forgive him and Gojo by default.
After that night, Gojo retreats into himself a little more while his peers think of other missions they’d get assigned to. The elders and the principal are happy this mission ended successfully; somehow Gojo finds himself walking past the cafe, a random memory blooms in his mind.
“The void is a dangerous place,” you’re reading in the Gojo family library with Satoru on your right. You’re both finally the same age of eight. Right before you turn nine, though, Gojo asks you to read the prophecies book his nanny left out. “Once you enter, it is limitless.”
Gojo’s phone lights up with the news that Geto Suguru has killed everyone in his hometown.
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spade-riddles · 10 months
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Submission: The Bait & Switch Theory
Lately I've been hate-reading a pop culture subreddit. It's not focused on Taylor, but people have been posting about her a lot lately (for obvious reasons). The overall vibe is pretty negative towards Taylor, but I usually skim the comments to see what casual fans are saying.
I want to share some recent comments I've seen (no usernames, and I rewrote some parts so they aren't word-for-word). Warning, you will probably get frustrated reading them. I did. But these are theories from casual listeners, non-swifties, who believe that Taylor really dates men, and they see this situation from a totally different angle than we do. While you read them, see if you have any new ideas about where Taylor might be going with this MH thing. I'll share my own thoughts after the comments. Another warning: this is a very long post-- sorry!
(These are all from a thread discussing a DailyMail article about how Taylor and MH are allegedly writing music together for her next album. I'll come back to my thoughts on this.)
On the subject of Midnights and MH, has anyone else gone back and listened to Question…? with him in mind? It all makes a lot of sense. Bejeweled too (the 1975 call themselves “the band”) and Cardigan.
Also “I swear that it was something/ ‘cause I don’t remember who I was/ Before you painted all my nights/ a color I’ve searched for since” from Question sounds a lot like “Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me/You showed me colors/You know I can't see with anyone else” from Illicit Affairs.
^^ Comment 1. Bolded parts from me.
All of it makes sense in context of falling in love with MH.
Anti-hero? She knew this relationship wouldn't be well received.
Midnight Rain? Joe was "sunshine she was midnight rain. He wanted a bride, she was chasing that fame."
Snow on the Beach? "Weird but fucking beautiful, you wanting me tonight feels impossible."
Labyrinth? "Uh-oh, I'm falling in love again. I thought this plane was going down, how'd you turn it right around?"
The entire album was about MH the entire time and we had no idea.
^^ Comment 2. I bolded the last sentence.
I don't understand how Taylor TOLD US Cardigan "was about" MH while on stage, into a microphone, and people are still denying it.
She wasn't trolling. She was revealing.
Cardigan is about him. And it seems like they weren't ON in 2014 and OFF for the next 8 years. Instead it's looking like they've gone back to each other again and again.
^^ Comment 3. This is the one that was most illuminating to me. Bolded part from me.
I think if they break up soon, she will phase him out and never mention him again.
^^ Comment 4. I'll come back to this one too.
Okay. So. Let's consider some hypotheticals.
Let's say Taylor wants to reintroduce Karlie into her public life. 
Let's say they want the public Kaylor narrative to be as close to real life as possible. Let's also assume that they don't want to out anyone and that there are contracts limiting what they can say about their beards.
Let's say there's someone else Taylor has known since about 2014: MH. A dude with an awful reputation, definitely worse than Karlie's.
Let's say the narrative they want people to believe, one day, is that Karlie is the one that got away from Taylor. They were a couple a decade ago, then they were together on and off, having an illicit affair with each other the entire time they were "in relationships" with JA and JK. And after Taylor and JA broke up, she privately reunited with Karlie and they lived happily ever after.
Let's also assume, maybe incorrectly (idk), that Karlie is the real William Bowery, and that Taylor wants people to know that JA didn't write or produce any of her music. Conveniently, MH is ALSO a musician. They're rumored to have written music together in the past, although we've never heard it, and now they're seen at the studio together.
So I wonder if Taylor and Karlie are limited in what they can say or imply, especially when it comes to the Karlie/JK timeline. Instead, Taylor is briefly introducing MH as her boyfriend and letting everyone speculate about how she's been in love with him for ages and how she cheated on JA with MH for years and how they write music together. She spells out the ENTIRE fucking story for everyone, and they finally start to piece it together. The only part that's wrong is that the story has the name MH where it should say KK.
What if this is a bait and switch? Where MH totally disappears from the picture, never to be mentioned again, but only after she uses him to plant a narrative. We don't get any musical collaboration after all. Maybe MH, being a loose canon, even alludes to faking a relationship with Taylor.
And then 5 seconds later, she switches out MH for KK. They do the exact same things together. KK goes to shows, they go out to dinner, maybe she's seen leaving Electric Lady, or she's seen with an LV bag going into Taylor's building. Maybe TS11 doesn't feature any songs with MH, but William Bowery is still credited even though JA is long gone. And maybe they just let people connect the dots over time. Like a folk tale, where no one really knows for sure what happened between Taylor, Karlie, JA, JK, and MH, but it's generally accepted that Taylor and Karlie have loved each other for a long time. Over the years, people forget some of the details and accept the Kaylor folklore as fact.
I'm so curious as to what you all think.
By the way, I know this is long enough already, but I do just want to say that I don't want to minimize MH's disgusting behaviors. I do believe it's morally wrong to prop up people like MH (and JK), because it lends credibility to dangerous ideas and disguises wolves as sheep. I think this is a line T & K are okay with crossing, and they are probably in a very complicated situation, but I'm not trying to excuse them for their roles here.
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skippyhawk · 4 months
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yes, I absolutely agree about Tim and Hawk's dynamic being kind of flipped in the 60s (and I think it's part of why it's my favorite episode so far). Even though Tim is in a sense dependent on Hawk because Hawk is giving him a place to hide while being on the run, he's the one who is guarded/with his walls up/pushing Hawk away (with good reason), and even though Hawk still can't verbalize his feelings (I cannot get the look on his face in response to "why do you care? about any of this?" OUT OF MY HEAD), to me he seems more emotionally open about his feelings for Tim in 1968 than we've ever seen him be thus far, and he's the one trying to reach out for Tim (emotionally *and* physically more than once) even if he doesn't know how to fix everything.
I also find Hawk's determination to fix everything for Tim and keep him out of jail to be fascinating given that we and Tim knew him as a fixer in the 1950s (which he acknowledged), and he wants so badly to fix this for Tim, and yet the episode ends with him watching with pain in his eyes as Tim turns himself in (and then, even more interestingly, using Tim's words from seminary to try and fix his relationship with Jackson by creating a moment of connection and comfort).
Thank you for indulging me with these asks, I love hearing your thoughts and if you don't mind my rambling I'll probably send more as we wait for the last 2 eps ahhh
it was definitely one of my favorites as demonstrated by that fever-induced unusually poetic defensive textpost i dropped straight after... i even had a brief discussion about it with some of my irls and my sister lmao
anyways yes, firstly on the dynamic flips. i do think there’s more to come on that. it seems like these shifting roles they seem to take on in each other’s lives (“carer”, savior, etcetc) will be a reoccurring theme post-50s.
secondly, to me a lot of hawk’s actions in the sixth episode seem slightly panicked (understatement of the century) because he’s truly trying to hold on to tim but it’s not working this time, which in turn literally has him agitated; he wants tim to stay. not only because the threat of prison is very real, especially to him and his wellbeing, but because he doesn’t want to let tim go again. despite this he, as per, hides behind his words and simultaneously leaves the most crucial things unsaid. i believe hawk’s a very “show, don’t tell” type of person. except he usually tends to avoid the showing part as well. (lol)
his franctic behavior seemingly begins with worrying about what might happen if tim does get sent to prison but it leaks through very quickly how he’s actually particularly shaken by tim’s resistance. in all honesty i think he’s been so used to having that certain control over him, most likely finding comfort in knowing that if he wants tim to stay, he will. there’s probably some primal freakout happening inside his head there lol. he does also seem visibly worried about how deep into his faith and denying himself tim has sunk again.
thirdly, i think hawk actually seems at his most vulnerable in the ’80s. i think the reality of tim being ill and possibility of him simply not being around anymore truly shook something deep inside him and spurred some kind of overgrown shrouded gears inside his head into action. to me it seems he’s having some pretty fucking heavy realizations but it’s also obvious after decades he’s finally prioritizing this huge part of himself and the truths, good and bad, that come with it. with finally letting himself just be you can tell how he’s immediately opening himself up more to tim too, sharing his thoughts instead of shoving them down, being there when it matters most. a perfect example of this is him walking into tim’s apartment and within minutes practically stating that actually, he’s not afraid of the disease– he’s afraid of losing him.
in my opinion hawk telling tim he’s “not sure of anything anymore” is truly a pivotal moment in his life. there’s a certain sense of beginning there. something has changed everything and nothing will be the same again.
it’s also why despite the bitterness, tragedy and supposed finality of it all ’80s tim and hawk are already so dear to me personally.
obviously i’m still positively petrified just imagining where they might go with the story next but i certainly hope you and obviously anyone else that’s willing will have thoughts to share or discussions to spark as the final episodes roll out...!
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inventedfangirling · 6 months
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Nanon + Khao in 55:15 Never Too Late appreciation post
I had been wanting to watch "55:15 never too late" for the LONGEST time. For several reasons not least among them was that it featured two of my most favourite thai actors - nanon & khaotung. And pls the premise of five 55 year olds returning to their younger 15 yr old bodies in order to make some changes to their past selves and the hijinks that ensue is interesting enough. But ofc the prime reason i was there was to watch the acting masterclass that i knew nanon and khaotung would deliver. I'm only 3 episodes in but im already bowled over.
Nanon especially. I don't know if there is any role that he can't do. he just becomes the role he is doing. It's virtually impossible to see nanon in the role he is playing.
This scene where he is hiding from prim. What shook me was just how much of childishness nanon was able to convey in this scene. He's playing a 15 year old after all. And he does an excellent job of it. Not at all in a forced caricature sorta way. In fact he was so convincing i had to replay several scenes multiple times. It was so very impressive.
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And look at that. That's pining personified and you cant even see his face. He is just THAAAT good.
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His body language, his micro-expressions, the delivery of dialogues, everything is just pure perfection.
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Look at him absolutely nail the look of a lost hurt child who doesn't know who or what to turn to. He really has no business being this good!?!
I was in a bad mood when i was watching that episode. But Nanon is just so good at his job that by sheer force of his acting brilliance he turned my mood around.
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His dimples helped for sure. of course.
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i mean LOOK AT THEM.
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This scene was especially fantastic. Really fun to watch.
But i meant something much more intangible.
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You know that feeling when you feel better just by seeing certain works of art, a painting or a sketch, or if you're looking at the sky, or listening to a piece of music, just knowing that such beauty exists in the world by itself enough to lift you up?
Watching Nanon do his thing in this episode felt more or less like that!
Especially this scene that took my breath away.
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How was he just 20 when he did this??? it's so mind blowing!
I'll never not be beyond grateful that i decided to watch bad buddy, cos 1. it gave me patpran and 2. it gave me nanon! one of the finest actors i have seen in my entire life. EVER. And he's just 22? I really can't wait to see what all he does over the course of his acting career!
Episode 3 follows the adventures of Khaotung's character "Songpol". I loved his story the most out of all 5 of them. No surprises here. How it's about an adult closeted gay man decides to stop suppressing his identity and live out a life he had denied himself all along. How he has known that he was gay for decades but because he hid that part, he still remains a sorta baby gay at the age of 55, and how this time/body reversal situation gives him a second chance at a more free life.
And while there were fewer opportunities for moments of acting brilliance, he did amazingly well in whatever there was.
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And more importantly there wasn't a single second where he was on screen where my heart wasn't brimming with affection.
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I especially am LOVING this gay uncle and supportive niece dynamic. We usually see it the other way around so loving this twist on the usual trope. Also khaotung does SO well in this scene where he is occupying his 15 yr old body but his facial expressions reveal the maturity of a 55 year old uncle of his niece who he is talking to.
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Also LOVING the way he fanboys over "Jaya".
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His devotion is so visible. It's unbelievably endearing. I would make a home for him in my pocket if i could.
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Like that's MY baby. A whole cutie patootie.
And also he is SO so handsome i could just watch him just existing for hours.
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Gorgeousness🤌
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I'm so excited for him to be living out his happy dream gay life. He deserves it so much. Pining for decades and then finally going to confess and then finding out he has found somebody else yet again, just next level of pain. He needs his happy ending. And he better be getting it. I am really looking forward to it.
What i'm not looking forward to is how the multiple love triangles the show has already set up is going to blow up in everyone's faces. It's such an annoying trope. But ANYTHING for a show featuring Nanon and Khao. And for the most parts i am LOVING this show, hopefully i will love it till the end :')
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