#he actually was compared to the depictions i grew up with

[spectres-fulcrum]

So I'm so behind and just watched Hamilton for the first time on Disney+. I've mostly fallen down the Laurens-Hamilton love letters rabbit hole, blame a certain fictional character name Alexander Claremont Diaz. *I love ACD sosososo much I'm so sad we lost the emails of that sort in the movie*

ANYWHO this song starring George Washington and it gives me giant Kallus vibes in the worst ways. The moment I heard these lyrics it was so sad.

Like Kallus definitely relates to young-ish(edit:not that I view Kallus as being too young on Onderon, late 20s? I view him, Eli Vanto, and Tarkin’s stormtrooper boyfriend as all being about the same age. Kal’s the oldest, by maybe three years, then Eli and Sev are 2 years apart. Rough estimates as I don’t have any timelines in front of me), first command, being forced to watch their deaths. It's really sad how much it relates. But some stuff is universal, be it 1700s or scifi Star Wars ca. 12-10 BBY. Failing your troops and never entirely forgiving yourself for it.

It's such "The boys and I on Onderon" vibes. Mistakes, followed by more on Lasan, followed by shame, and years later, lying awake after Bahryn.

Kallus is-A member of history. First for Onderon, then his ISB work, then for being a traitor, then for helping to free Lothal.

If I ever make an Alexsandr Kallus playlist this has to be on it (Fun fact: I mention three Alexanders in this post: A real possibly queer one, a fictional cannonically queer one, and a fictional possibly queer one. Let's complete the square and mention Alexander the Great: Real and almost certainly queer-not that his society necessarily viewed sexuality like that. The name Alexander is... Sus)

#alexsandr kallus #history has its eyes on you #i actually love that washington in the musical is played by someone the correct age vs some old dude #i don't think gw has ever been depicted as not being an old dude when he was in his 40s during the war-it's actually very shocking how youn #he actually was compared to the depictions i grew up with #Lowkey the actor was too attractive #for g fucking w #I need to go to bed #But I realized this ASAP #hamiltion

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Alpha Dog (M) ~Bang Chan

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Fluff | Roomies to Lovers | Soulmate AU? 👀 Warnings: Chris’ POV, curvy/chubby MC, pet names, mentions and descriptions of werewolf mating cycles, mandatory Christopher is Intense™ warning (it’s even worse when you can read his thoughts), graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut). Word Count: ~17k sobbing | AO3 Summary: Chris had a dream since he was very young. He wanted to have a pack of his own, to build a safe space for people with views just like his. Once he managed to accomplish that, he would’ve never imagined that his next dream would arrive at his doorstep in a pretty sundress.

Author’s Note: i wanted to expand Chris’ character in this series of stories, so this monster was born ! i think it could actually be a good starter piece for my WereRoomies series, or, if anything, just a good read 🤭 if you’re reading this, hope you enjoy, and don’t hesitate to let me know what you think !

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Chris’ WereRoomies Instalments:  It’s Cold Out · Rut · Alpha Dog · It’s Warm In · Love is Easy · Afraid to Lose You. For extra drabbles, check out the series masterlist.

Smut Warnings: thigh kink · possessiveness · a barely even present breeding kink · praising · oral [F.&M.Rec, but the M.Rec is not as detailed] · breast/nipple play · forced orgasm (F.Rec) · fingering [F.Rec] · unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method, but reader is presumed to be on birth control] · cum eating · marking (as in, sucking love bites on someone’s skin) · intercrural · cumshot/cum on body. there’s just a lot going on i’m sorry or am i? 👀

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Since the moment Chris gained his consciousness when he was very young, he knew what he was. It was impossible not to know, when the dynamic of his entire family was basically ingrained in his DNA. 

Chris was a werewolf. His mother was a werewolf, his father was a werewolf, as were his grandparents, and they were all part of the same pack since his grandparents joined it before Chris’ parents were even born.

Chris’ childhood pack was big, consisting of several different blood-related families that were being led by the same alpha. Due to the numerous members of that pack, it felt like it was more of a closed off community than a family–especially considering members of the pack that weren’t blood related would often mate with each other. Even as he grew up, Chris felt as if these people weren’t really close to him, aside, of course, from his blood relatives and his best friend, Changbin.

It wasn’t as if they were all bad people, he just didn’t feel like he could be fully himself with the rest. They were often a bit close minded when it came to werewolf ‘traditions’, with deep desires to keep humans at bay, or turn them whenever it was suitable for the pack, whenever they saw fit, regardless of the human’s wishes. Some of them would even believe in the designation hierarchy–alphas over betas and omegas, always–which was something Chris never really understood, nor supported in any way.

Thankfully for him, his blood family was quite progressive compared to the rest of the pack, and even if the others looked down on them for it, his parents decided to socialise Chris with humans from a young age. They sent him to a human school, let him have human friends–with the only condition to not reveal anything about his lycanthropy or the pack to them–and that contact with the outside world simply highlighted the fact that all these archaic customs in the pack made absolutely no sense to him.

So when puberty hit him, and his alpha nature started to really settle in him, he knew that he wanted to start a pack of his own. A pack where no member would feel judged or held back by the rest, where everyone could be equal.

It wasn’t really that much of a surprise, honestly. His parents always knew he would be an alpha–based on how thick-headed he was and how he would often lead his group of peers from a young age–so when Chris told his mother about this desire of his, she immediately supported him.

His father took a bit longer to accept it, but eventually he simply understood. ‘It’s too late for us. This pack is our family, we’ve already accepted the good as well as the bad, but you’ll always be our son whether you’re a member of it or not’, which was enough acceptance for Chris.

So as soon as he was of age and he went to university, he broke ties off with his childhood pack, and for a couple of years, he was seemingly on his own.

Some people from his childhood pack would even try to ridicule him, to look down on him whenever they met him on the streets or whenever he went to visit his parents. Chris knew it was because they thought he was crazy for being out there on his own. 

What they didn’t know was that he wasn’t really alone. He had Changbin and Jisung.

Before Chris left his childhood pack he told Changbin of his idea, of his goal of leading a pack of his own, and without missing a beat Changbin immediately told him he’d join him as soon as he was of age, as long as Chris wanted him. And of course Chris wanted Changbin in his pack, he was one of the few people he trusted more in this world.

Jisung was also a childhood friend, but he didn’t belong to the same pack Chris and Changbin did at the time. He became friends with them after his pack moved away from their previous den to form a new one in the same city Chris and Changbin grew up in. His parents enrolled him in the same school as them as soon as they settled, which was how the three of them met.

As it turned out, Jisung was also unhappy in his childhood pack, he was an omega, and much like Chris’ childhood pack, omegas were viewed as of lower status than any other designation, so he was often disregarded or even mistreated. And just like Changbin, as soon as Chris told Jisung of his future plans, Jisung also decided to join them when he was of age.

So while someone outside of Chris’ circle might’ve thought he was a lone wolf, a packless misfit, the reality was that he felt happier, more at ease while he waited for Changbin and Jisung to defect, than he ever did in his childhood pack. Two years wasn’t that long of a wait–considering that was the age gap between him and Changbin–so he decided to place his focus on his studies for those couple of years on his own.

Eventually, as the three of them grew up, Chris’ pack started to take more shape. Changbin was his obvious right hand, he had this sense of responsibility and protectiveness that made him a perfect second in command. However, Jisung never even entertained the possibility of being his left hand, because, in his words, ‘I’m not cut out for that, I’d get everyone starved or killed’, which was valid in Chris’ opinion, after all, it wasn’t really in his inherit nature to lead or protect others, quite the opposite actually, so Chris let it go without much of a fight.

Jisung did offer a candidate, though. A childhood friend of his, Minho, a human turned werewolf with no real pack of his own who had no real desire to lead, but was incredibly caring and protective, and, in Jisung’s words, someone who had a heart of gold.

As time went on, as they met more friends throughout their years at university, Chris’ pack grew. With the addition of Hyunjin, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin his pack became a tight group of eight young werewolves who were simply trying to find their place in the world, a group of people who weren’t happy in the conditions they lived in before and wanted a change, a healthy environment. 

Since then, Chris, Minho, and Changbin tried their absolute best to keep this safe, healthy ecosystem. And in Chris’ humble opinion, they were succeeding at that. Sure, they fought sometimes, just like any other family or pack or group of friends would, but things could always be solved one way or another. For once, Chris truly felt as if he was exactly where he was supposed to be, doing what he was supposed to do–what he wanted to do. 

Aside from his supernatural condition, Chris always thought of himself as a simple man. When his mind wasn’t dominated by his wolf instincts, he’d just feel like any other dude out there. He liked to play computer games, he had friends he’d often hang out with–not only his packmates, but also people he’d met throughout his life–and he had a stable, decent paying job as a software engineer which he quite enjoyed. But he’d admit that sometimes, it felt as if something was missing… And that something was romantic love.

The topic of love and romantic relationships was quite tricky for him. He’d dated a few people in his life, but no one really seemed to stick for too long, either because he was always a bit too intense of a guy, or because they simply didn’t really understand his pack’s dynamic.

Oftentimes, especially when he dated a human, they just couldn’t really understand why his ‘friends’ were so important to him. He’d been told things from ‘you care more about your friends than you care about me’, to ‘it’s a bit weird how close you are. Y’all practically live together?’ They simply wouldn’t get it, and it wasn’t like he could reveal his condition to just anyone and explain, so those relationships would end as soon as the person showed any discomfort in regards to his pack, which was honestly for the best.

Then on the other side of the spectrum, when he dated other werewolves, it all often fell too much into the traditional dynamic of ‘you’re an alpha, I’m an XYZ, so we must be and do things this and this way’, and even if he tried to break those moulds a bit, it just wouldn’t work out.

So one day, right after another failed relationship, Chris decided to just… Let things flow. He was fine being single.

Did he have the intense need to pamper and take care of someone romantically? Yes. Did he have physical needs that he wished he could fulfil with the warmth of another person? Also yes. But he decided to bear it regardless. If he never found someone who understood him and his family dynamic then he was happy to die single. After all, his pack was, and would always be, his utmost priority.

He would’ve never imagined that it would all change once he finally realised he couldn’t live on his own.

In the very early stages of Chris’ pack, they had to decide where their den would be. Changbin’s parents were well off, they owned a handful of buildings throughout the city, so with a bit of convincing, they let Chris, Changbin, Jisung, and anyone that came after settle in one of their buildings at a discount price. 

For a couple of years, the three of them lived in the same flat, but as more people joined Chris’ pack they kept rearranging themselves to get the best comfort, leaving Chris in a flat of his own, which was great at the beginning. He had his own space and privacy, and for a while, it was fine.

But when his grandparents passed away, leaving a huge house under Chris’ name, things changed. Between the expensive utility bills of his flat, and what he had to spend upkeeping his house in the woods, he just never had money to spare. He had to accept the fact that he needed a roommate, but everyone was already settled in their own living arrangements within the den, and he didn’t want to disrupt any of his packmates with this.

One day, during a phone call with his mother, Chris told her of this predicament of his, and she offered to help find a suitable roommate–as long as Chris wanted her help, of course.

He trusted his mother’s judgement, so he agreed, and next time she came to visit him, it looked like this woman had seen an angel come down from the heavens, because her face was glowing, and she exclaimed the most overly excited ‘Oh, honey! I got the perfect candidate. Remember my coworker’s daughter I always talk to you about?’

How could he not remember her coworker’s daughter when his mother tried to bring her up at least once whenever he came to visit? Of course he remembered you. His mother had met you a few times, always described you as a ‘beautiful, sensible, young woman’, and honestly sometimes Chris wondered if she was trying to set him up, especially when she’d conveniently mention how ‘you really need someone like that in your pack, pup… A sensible, caring figure would do you all some good, especially a female one. There are just too many males at your den, I don’t know how you get anything done…’

It honestly didn’t surprise him that much for her to say that, she was surrounded by incompetent males all the time, always had to pick up their messes, so she’d gotten quite radical on the importance of female figures… Chris just didn’t really care about the gender of his roommate or his packmates at all, so he decided to follow through with her suggestion.

Apparently, you had been looking to move out of your mother’s house, or that was what your mother told Chris’ mother, so considering you were someone his mother already knew who seemed to be nice enough, he said fuck it and told his mother to give you his number, requesting for her to ‘not get too excited. I just need a roommate, mum. For all I know she might not even integrate well, maybe she’d hardly ever be home… Relax, I’m not getting married, jeez…’ Which his mother honestly didn’t look too convinced about.

He expected nothing of it, really. He wasn’t even sure if you’d call, but a few days after he had that conversation with his mother, you finally called, and you both arranged a time for you to come visit so you could see the place for yourself.

He was, admittedly, a bit nervous, mostly because he didn’t want to make his condition known, or to make you uncomfortable in any way. After all, he was just an unknown man you were coming to meet and possibly live with.

When the day finally came, the moment Chris opened his door and met you he realised three things:

One, that you smelt like flowers. And not in a perfume way, more like in your natural scent way. Everyone had a different scent, it was typically more noticeable to him in other werewolves than humans, but humans most definitely had a scent, and you smelt just like freshly picked flowers.

Two, that you had a smile that could easily outshine the sun. When you smiled your cheeks would round up, and your eyes would disappear, and it was just such an endearing gesture it was hard for him not to focus on it. 

And three, that you had the most scrumptious body he had ever seen. 

Chris often prided himself on being a rational being, with a lot of self-control even for someone with a condition just like his, but as soon as he took in the shape of your body, it was almost as if he could feel his human mind short circuit and hear his inner wolf howling in desire.

He’d never been much of having a ‘type’ when it came to his partners, at least not physically. Sure, there were certain attributes he preferred, but in the grand scheme of things he’d fancied people with all different types of looks. That day, though, as he struggled to make coherent sentences and act normal while he showed you the place, Chris realised–quite puzzled, he might add–that maybe he did have a type, and maybe that type was you.

“So, this is the living room… As I mentioned on the phone, my friends often come to watch movies or just hang out. Don’t worry, though, they’re good people and very respectful. But I could totally understand if that’s something you can’t deal with”, why did you wear a sundress? Sure, it was starting to get hot out, but did you even realise how good that dress looked on you? You must’ve, there was no way you didn’t know how good you looked… Would you notice how hard he was trying not to look at your cleavage? He hoped you didn’t.

“If they truly are as nice as you say I don’t think I’ll mind, to be honest… If I move in I’d just… Prefer if they didn’t enter my room, I guess? Other than that I don’t mind”, you sounded genuine when you said it, and that did ease Chris’ worries a bit.

He took his sweet time showing you the place, the bathroom, what would be your bedroom if you moved in, even his bedroom, the kitchen, the pantry, the laundry room… All as an easy conversation flowed between you two, all as he struggled massively to not focus on the movement of your hips when you walked, to not focus on the sudden impulse he had to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you close.

Stop being a creep, Christopher… She’s a person. A person with feelings, stop being a creep… He repeated to himself every time he caught his eyes wandering, and for the most part, he was succeeding. At least, until you sat down on one of the kitchen stools and crossed one leg over the other, making the hem of your dress rise a bit, exposing the skin of your thighs.

This must be a test, he reasoned with himself.

The universe was trying to test his self-control by presenting you to him, all pretty, kind, and with the softest looking thighs he had ever seen. Chris could feel his hands literally itching with need, wondering if you’d feel as soft all over as you looked, but he quickly shoved all these thoughts as deep as he could within himself, focusing instead on the things you were telling him.

You were so nice. Just as his mother had told him, you seemed to be very sensible, very down to earth, and those traits made it so he had no reservations about having a human like you living with him. Sure, Chris knew it would be difficult to keep his condition hidden, but regardless of that immediate reaction he had to your presence, there was just something in the back of his mind telling him that having you here would be good for him and his pack, so he decided to follow that gut instinct, telling you you could move in whenever, and in a week’s time, you did.

It was honestly a bit odd at first. Chris had been living on his own for a while, and sure, his packmates would often drop by and stay over, but having an unfamiliar scent at home was certainly weird the first couple of weeks. Even then, he’d admit it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. If anything, it just added a bit of life to the otherwise silent–and sometimes lonely–space.

You quickly got acquainted with his friends, Chris supposed it was hard for you not to when they spent so much time coming to his flat, and somehow you never really seemed to question it. At one point, you even adopted their mannerisms.

Chris’ pack was very affectionate, he’d be the first one to admit it. Pet names were a constant thing among the pack, cuddling was a must, and even if you still didn’t know about their condition, you simply accepted their loving, overly affectionate behaviour as the norm, and even embraced it.

The fact that Chris and his friends were werewolves was something he had decided was best for you not to know, at least not from the get-go. He told his packmates he just didn’t see the need, that it could be dangerous–in reality, he just didn’t want to spook you. He feared that the moment you found out of their lycanthropy you’d leave, and even if he wasn’t sure why, he just didn’t want that to happen, so he would often conveniently dance around the truth whenever their condition was involved.

A month after you moved in, Felix suggested to have a movie night, simply saying ‘we haven’t had one in a while, and I could really use one to unwind!’ It had been a really long week for Chris, too, and he figured it’d be a good way to include you in their communal activities. So, as it was customary, those who wanted to join would come to Chris’ flat.

It was just Felix, Changbin, Seungmin, you, and Chris that night, the rest of his packmates had other things to do, so they had to skip it, which maybe was for the best, that way all of you wouldn’t have to cram on the sofa.

Felix had promised to bring a big box of macarons from his workplace, and he delivered. The box was filled to the brim with an assortment of different flavours–not an elegant presentation by any means, and some of them got crushed on the way, but that wouldn’t stop any of them from devouring each and every cookie.

When he placed it on the kitchen counter and opened it, Chris spotted the pink ones immediately. They were his favourite, but there were only a handful of them in the entire box, to which Felix gave him an apologetic smile, a ‘there just weren’t enough by the end of my shift’, and a shrug when Chris looked at him with a sad pout on his lips.

Chris took popcorn-making duties, and by the time it was ready and in its designated bowls, the vacuums he had for packmates had somehow eaten almost every single pink macaron, leaving only one in the box. He saw the scene play in slow motion as you made your way into the kitchen and reached for that last cookie.

Chris liked to give things to people, he really did, but that pink macaron had been holding together his last shred of sanity that day, so he acted quickly, snatching it out of the box and giving you a “nuh-uh, cutie. This one’s for me”.

“Aw, Chris!” You tried to reach for it, but he held it over your head, as far away from your grabby hands as he could. “C’mon! Those are so good!”

“I know they’re good! That’s why I want it”, he chuckled, pulling it further away from your reach when you tried to grab it again.

“Don’t be mean, babe”, you were pouting and everything, which had his heart clenching a bit, but you didn’t need to know that. He had to stay strong so he could have this delicious treat. “Give it to me?”

“Say please and maybe I’ll consider it”, he wasn’t going to consider it, which was why he had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. This was his strawberry macaron that he desperately needed, just the thought of the sugary cookie melting in his mouth had him already salivating.

However, Chris realised very quickly how ill-prepared he was for the situation he’d put himself in the moment you took a step closer to him, taking a hold of his hand that had been limp by his side, caressing the back of it with your thumb as you looked him right in the eyes with that pout on your lips.

“Please, baby… I really want it. I’ll bring you some tomorrow. Promise”, you brought your free hand to your heart, making a cross over it to emphasise that promise. “Please?”

For a second, he froze. His arm was getting tired from holding the stupid cookie over your head, and he dumbly stared at your face, shifting his focus from your lips to your eyes a few times. Did you… Did you know how cute you looked? Were you doing it on purpose? You must’ve known, right?

As soon as Chris started to feel his heart thump aggressively in his chest, he realised he had–very stupidly–walked himself into a corner. He had lost, and, in a poor attempt to not let you know how fast you had disarmed him, he sighed–rather dramatically–in what he hoped came across as annoyance.

“Alright, you can have it”, he brought the macaron down and held it to your lips. “But you’ll seriously have to buy me some tomorrow, yeah?”

The smile that came to your face made his heart skip a beat, and the second you took the macaron between your lips, lightly brushing his fingers in the process, Chris could’ve sworn his heart stopped completely. 

Before he could even register the movement, you had moved closer, suddenly pressing a quick, loud kiss to his cheek, muttering a ‘you’re the best, darling. I’ll bring you at least two dozen tomorrow!’ before you walked away and left the kitchen to join Seungmin and Felix on the sofa.

It all happened so fast, Chris could feel his skin burn where you had kissed him, and he realised too late that it was because he was blushing. Blushing! Why was he blushing? How dared his cheeks betray him this way?

“Dude…” Chris’ head snapped in the direction of Changbin’s voice, where he was looking at him from the other side of the kitchen counter, with the most insufferable grin on his face.

“Don’t”, Chris grumbled as he lifted a finger in Changbin’s direction, which only made Changbin’s grin widen. Grabbing the biggest bowl of popcorn, Chris decided to ignore his friend’s teasing eyes completely, finally leaving the kitchen to place the bowl on the coffee table and sit his ass as far away from you as possible. He could still feel his face burn, which made it all so much worse.

That night, after everyone left, after you retreated to your room and Chris was finally able to lay in bed, completely alone with his thoughts, he couldn’t stop thinking about that moment.

About the way your eyes were almost sparkling when he told you you could have the damn cookie, about the look of delight on your face when he fed it to you, about the damn kiss… It was all just a friendly gesture, really. You were just being nice, like you always were, but as his mind recounted the moment in an endless loop, he eventually realised that all those things he felt the day he saw you for the first time had just been warning signs.

He tried to push all these thoughts to the back of his mind again. You were his roommate. His human roommate who had no idea what Chris and his friends were. It was stupid of him to think about you as anything other than that, and yet, the more he interacted with you, the more time passed of you living with him at his den, the harder it became to ignore what he felt, especially whenever you went out on dates.

His logical, human side always tried to brush off the fact that you were dating people. After all, sometimes, you did come back home looking happy, as if you even had fun, which was a good thing. But his idiotic, wolf side just hated whenever you came home smelling like other men. He couldn’t–and wouldn’t–stop you because of it, of course. That would’ve been absolutely insane of him to do, but one day, when he saw your laundry hanging on the drying rack he just couldn’t help himself… 

Chris figured scenting your clothes wouldn’t hurt, right? You wouldn’t notice… And other people might not even notice, either, but he just wanted you to come home and still smell like him, and frequently, that worked. He’d admit he even grew a bit more shameless about it as time went on, hugging you or kissing your forehead before you left the house to leave his scent on you–something you never really questioned, either.

Whenever his pack members commented on it, Chris simply told them it was for protection, to keep you safe from other wolves–he wasn’t sure if they believed him, considering they wouldn’t stop teasing him about it every time they could…

By the fourth month of you living here, he was sure he had mastered the art of Ignoring His Feelings.

He would still scent your clothes, especially on nights like this one, where you were going on a date with some guy. But other than that he was doing an excellent job at not thinking about you in any ways other than platonic–or at least, that was what Chris tried to tell himself.

Truth was, he still had those impulsive thoughts from time to time. Soft. Nice. Pretty… 

He would quickly stop his train of thought whenever he caught himself, disregarding the almost instinctual way his hands flexed whenever he looked at you. Tonight, before you left, he tried his best to absolutely ignore the dress you were wearing and how good you looked in it, and how it hugged your curves so nicely, and the way your thighs looked in those tights… Would he ever be able to touch them? Squeeze them? Maybe even kiss–

The sudden sound of growls startled him, breaking his train of thought. Chris chuckled, amused by the way Hyunjin, Jisung, and Jeongin chased their tails while running in circles in the middle of his living room. “What the hell are you even doing?”

“They’re trying to see who can catch his tail faster”, Felix replied simply, taking a sip of the soda in his hand, slinging an arm over Chris’ shoulders.

“You’re gonna hurt yourselves. Stop that”, Minho grumbled from the kitchen, where he and Seungmin prepared snacks for the night.

Among the growls coming from the three spinning wolves, and the constant talking between the rest, Chris failed to hear the sound of the front door opening. It took him a second too late to be hit by the smell of your floral scent, and by the time he had registered it and jumped to his feet from where he had been slouching on the sofa, it was too late.

You stood wide eyed by the hall, looking between the three wolves in the middle of the living room. For a second, everyone froze, looking in your direction, and before Chris could even say anything, he stared in horror as Jeongin started to shift back into his human form.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Jeongin had the nerve to say to you, as if he wasn’t buttnaked, as if he hadn’t just shapeshifted right in front of your eyes.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times. Your gaze shifted from the two wolves and Jeongin to everyone else in the room, landing on Chris last. He saw your hands tremble a bit, and, in an instant, before he could even register the movement, you were bolting out the door.

Chris immediately sprung into action, chasing you, calling for you. “Wait!”

You weren’t supposed to be here. You had a date. You were even prepared in case you wouldn’t even come back tonight, or, at least, that was what you told Chris before you left earlier that day. Panic brewed quickly inside of him, he really couldn’t let you go like this.

Chris caught up to you on the stairs, right on the landing between one floor and the other. Taking a hold of your elbow, he tugged you back before you kept going on your way. “Wait! Listen–”

“What the fuck?!” You tried to pry yourself away. In a different circumstance, Chris would’ve let you go on the spot, but this was no ordinary situation, so he simply tightened his hold, keeping you in place and within reach. Your eyes widened, and he saw immediately the exact moment you realised the extent of his strength.

“Listen to me. It’s not–”

“Don’t you dare say that!” Your eyes frantically roamed his face, and the combination of confusion and fear he could see in your eyes made his heart clench. “What does it look like, then?! Huh, Christopher?!”

Chris opened and closed his mouth a few times, but the words wouldn’t come out. What should he say? That what you saw wasn’t real? That you must’ve misinterpreted it all? That would’ve been the right thing to do, wouldn’t it? But as he looked into your eyes, he just couldn’t find it in him to lie to you.

“I just saw Jeongin’s body twist and turn in ways I would’ve never even imagined were possible!” Your lower lip was trembling slightly, the words that came out of your mouth were unsteady, and your scent was starting to tint with what Chris could only define as panic, which in turn was making him panic. “What the fuck was that about?! What are you people?”

“I– We–” The words just wouldn’t come out of his mouth. He should’ve had a plan for this, it was only a matter of time for you to find out their little secret, but he truly hadn’t expected it to be so soon. 

Upon his unresponsiveness, you tried to pull yourself away from him again, and Chris couldn’t help but tighten his hold on your arm in response. He hadn’t meant to, but he was going into fight or flight and his body seemed to be trying its absolute best to keep you from leaving.

You winced, and the grimace on your face started the alarm bells in his head. “Chris… Please. It hurts”.

Chris let go of your arm as if it had caught on fire, and when you brought your other hand to soothe the area he had been holding onto, when he saw that look of discomfort on your face, he couldn’t help but feel incredibly guilty.

He’d failed you.

He hurt you, he failed you, and the amount of distress that realisation brought him was quickly taking a hold of each and every single one of his nerve-endings.

“God, I’m so sorry”, Chris took a step back, avoiding your eyes entirely. “So, so sorry… I didn’t mean–”

“What are you, Chris?” Your voice trembled again, but it didn’t seem like you’d run away.

With a deep intake of breath, Chris tried to find the courage to look you in the eyes again. “I’m… I’m a werewolf”.

You blinked, looking him up and down, looking at him like he had three heads. “A… A werewolf?”

“Mm… Only Jeongin shifted when he saw you, probably out of stress or because he panicked… The three wolves… It was Hyunjin, Jisung, and Jeongin. We’re all werewolves”.

“Werewolves… As in… Half human, half wolf? Like in fairy tales?” You sounded genuinely incredulous, and Chris couldn’t blame you.

He shrugged, tucking his hands in his short’s pockets, looking away from you again, fixing his gaze on the floor. “They’re not just fairy tales. There’s a whole world of creatures out there you don’t even know about, but it’s there”.

“Can’t believe this…” You muttered to yourself, threading your fingers through your hair, tugging the strands between your fingers.

“You… You can’t tell anyone–”

“Who the hell would I tell?!” You chuckled, a chuckle that lacked any semblance of amusement, and it made him wince.

You both stayed in silence, neither of you sure on what to say to the other. Until finally, you heaved a sigh, turning to continue your walk down the stairs. “Werewolves… This is all madness…”

“Wait–!”

“Don’t!” You whipped your face in Chris’ direction. Your hands were shaking. Actually, it looked like your entire body was shaking. “Don’t follow me”, was the last thing you told him, and he would never forget the look in your eyes that day, completely lost, void of your usual shine.

Chris just stood there for a moment, listening to the quick clack clack clacks of your heels as you walked the steps, until he finally heard the main door of the building opening and eventually slamming closed. He could feel his heart ache, just the memory of the tone of your voice and that look in your eyes made his heart race for all the wrong reasons.

Chris was at a loss, unable to comprehend how it all got out of hand so quickly. He should’ve known, this was bound to happen eventually, they couldn’t keep hiding from you forever. But what he hadn’t expected was the feeling of utter dejection the entire exchange brought him.

After a few minutes, when Chris was back in his flat, with the seven pairs of eyes staring worriedly at him, he realised he had to get a grip.

“Chris, I’m sorry. It’s my fault–” Jeongin started, looking absolutely ashamed, but Chris stopped him immediately. 

“Don’t worry about it. She was going to find out eventually”, he was honestly proud at how even his voice was coming out of his mouth, and he hoped his packmates couldn’t feel the weird emotional state he was in. He shot Minho and Changbin a quick look, and they seemed to catch onto his signal fairly quickly–if the way they stiffened was anything to go by. “You guys go on. I’m… Tired. I’ll just be in my room, Yeah?” 

No one seemed to question it, for which Chris was grateful. He needed some time alone to think, but even then the presence of his packmates just out of his door did comfort him a bit.

You were gone for a long while after that. The mood of the pack had almost reached the core of the planet by how low it was, but admittedly, Chris had taken the biggest blow. Eventually, everyone noticed, but no one other than Minho talked to him about it. ‘She’ll come around, I’m sure’, he told Chris one day, but it was hard for him to believe those words when he could still get a phantom of the panic in your scent whenever he was on his own. 

You didn’t tell her in time. You hurt her. You failed her… His brain wouldn’t stop nagging him day and night. He tried to convince himself that there was no need for him to feel the way he did, that these things happened sometimes, but he knew it wouldn’t be that easy, he had to make it up to you somehow.

He tried to text you, a ‘hey… how’re you’ that you didn’t reply to. The rest of the pack tried to as well, explaining as much as they could, but you also didn’t reply to them. No one had been able to get a hold of you, and Chris was just losing all hope. 

Until seven days after the entire thing the sound of a key going into his front door’s keyhole startled him, pumping adrenaline through his system, making him jump out of his bed. By the time you were opening the door and stepping into the flat Chris was already coming out of his room, looking at you.

“So…” You cleared your throat once you closed the door behind you, dropping your keys in their designated bowl on the bureau, and crossing your arms over your chest. “Werewolves?”

Chris nodded, staying rooted on the spot, afraid any movement he made would scare you in any way. “Werewolves”.

“Does it… Does it hurt when you shift?” Out of all the things you could’ve asked, that wasn’t exactly what Chris thought you’d ask first, not after being away for so long, but he decided to answer regardless. There was no point in hiding it now, the cat–or should he say, the wolf…–was already out of the bag.

He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest as well. “It’s not comfortable, but it doesn’t really hurt hurt”.

“Mmm…” You stayed silent for a bit, until your eyes found Chris’, and you took a step closer. “So… You guys are like… A pack? A pack of wolves?” Chris simply nodded in response, and since he didn’t say anything else, you continued. “Why would you even let me move in?”

“You’re nice”, Chris replied immediately, maybe a bit too fast. But it was the truth, so he felt like saying it. “Very nice. At the time it just… Made sense to me”.

“So, you’re like… Their leader? What’s it called… Alpha?”

Chris chuckled. “Where did you even get this from? But yes, I’m the alpha of the pack”. 

“It’s amazing what you can find on the Internet these days”, you shrugged. “Did you ever even have intentions of telling me all this? Did you lie to me about anything else?”

Chris shook his head. “No, we… We’re exactly the same people you met. The fact that we are what we are was the only thing I didn’t…” Chris sighed. “Honestly? I wanted to tell you. But I was… A bit scared you’d get spooked and leave”.

“You don’t want me to leave?” You sounded genuinely incredulous, and it puzzled him. 

“‘Course not”, Chris said it like it was the most logical thing in the world. In reality, it wasn’t. You were a human, a human living in a werewolf den. It seemingly didn’t make sense, but to Chris, somehow, it made all the sense in the world. “Do you want to leave?”

You looked at him for a moment. Chris held his breath, watching you closely once you finally moved, coming towards him.

Tentatively, you walked into his space, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close to you. As soon as your scent engulfed him fully, his body reacted almost on its own, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you close, and heaving an almost involuntary sigh of relief.

“I don’t”, you mumbled against his shoulder, and the way your lips brushed his bare skin had his ears heating up. He should’ve put on a t-shirt before he left his room to meet you… “You guys… Are really nice, too”.

Chris hummed, hugging you a bit tighter for a while, for as long as you’d let him. Eventually, you were speaking again.

“So… If I’m staying at this werewolf den, does that mean you’re my alpha, too?”

Chris was glad you were not a werewolf. If you had been you would’ve heard how quickly his heart started to beat when you said that. The mere idea that you’d call him your alpha awoke something in him. Something he couldn’t unpack right here right now with you in his arms. 

You clearly didn’t know what that meant, you just made a logical assumption based on the little information you probably had, but if he ever heard you call him your alpha out loud he was sure he’d explode. So he decided to reach a middle ground, innocuous enough you wouldn’t be able to tell how much he was struggling with this. 

“Only–” His voice betrayed him, coming out of his mouth a bit strained. So he cleared his throat, trying to act normal. “Only if you’re a member of the pack, I suppose”. 

“Am I?” You asked, sounding genuinely curious. 

“If… If you want. Being a member of the pack… Entitles many things. if you’re willing to abide by those things then of course you can”. 

You hummed, burying your face further in the crook of his neck. 

“For what is worth, I… Already see you as one. It’s been that way for a while, actually”, Chris could’ve sworn he heard your heart start beating a bit faster after he said that, and in turn his heart started to beat faster in his chest.

“Oh?” You pulled away from his neck, finding his gaze, looking him straight in the eyes. “So I’m under the big bad wolf’s protection, huh?” 

Chris huffed out an incredulous laugh, amused by your choice of words, but he couldn’t help himself when the following words came out of his mouth. “Well, I’m not doing a good job at that, am I?”

You frowned. Smooth it out. Make her smile, his instincts told him, once again pushing to the front of his mind those impulses he so desperately tried to ignore. 

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I mean…” Chris suddenly couldn’t hold your gaze, but the way his eyes decided to focus on your mouth were certainly not making it any easier. Plump, soft, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss–stop. Focus… “The day you left, on the stairs… I hurt you. I didn’t mean to, and I shouldn’t have. I’m incredibly sorry”. 

You went quiet for a moment, your eyes flickering between his, looking at him so intensely Chris could feel heat start to creep on the back of his neck, suddenly aware of how close you were. Finally, you inhaled sharply. 

“I forgive you”.

Chris blinked, and his brows furrowed. “But–” 

“What do you mean ‘but’?” You chuckled, untangling your arms away from his neck to cradle his face in your hands instead. “You apologised, and I accept your apology. Honestly, it was barely anything. I… Understand what you were trying to do. In the four months I’ve been living here you have never hurt me, not even made me feel uncomfortable, Chris. This is all insane, completely nuts, and I’m warning you right now, I’m gonna be super annoying about it, but I trust you. All of you. But you especially”. 

At that moment, Chris pulled himself away from you entirely, hopefully before you noticed how quickly his cheeks were flushing, making his way into the living room and rambling on about how you could ask him anything you wanted and offering you dinner from what he had prepared that night for himself.

It seemed like you took a lot of interest in their condition after that. 

‘So that’s why you’re so warm?’

‘That’s why y’all leave once a month? To run under the full moon, seriously?’

‘Can you eat chocolate?’ 

‘Would you show me your wolf form?’ 

‘What’s a knot?’

You were really curious, maybe a bit too much. Chris was more than happy to answer your questions, but when you started to ask about mating, and knots, and ruts, and heats, he’d admit he got a little flustered–maybe embarrassingly so. Mostly because, whenever you so much as mentioned anything that got too into the topic of sex, he’d just get waves and waves of improper thoughts. He’d wonder too much, he’d start getting worked up as if he was a fucking teenager who’d never touched a person in his life, so he tried to avoid those questions whenever he could.

The rest of the pack welcomed you back with open arms. They liked you before, but now that you knew their secret, it was almost as if something flipped in the way they interacted with you.

The first time one of them called you ‘mum’, Chris almost dug himself a Christopher-sized hole and buried himself alive. It was Seungmin who started the entire thing, because of course it was, Seungmin loved to see him struggle the most, clearly. And when you asked Chris about it, he simply told you the rest of the pack started to see you as a person they could lean on–which was half of the truth, he would’ve been caught dead before admitting to you that they were rubbing in his face how absolutely smitten he was.

He knew it before, of course. How he felt. Even if he tried to ignore it, if he tried to pretend it was all an instinctual thing because he had a pretty girl living with him, there was no way he could lie to himself for much longer. The moment you found out of their lycanthropy and you decided to stay and help, instead of running away in fear, he just couldn’t deny it any longer.

Sometimes, it felt as if the universe had taken all these qualities he could’ve ever needed in his life, all these qualities he hadn’t even realised he yearned for, and put them all in a person, put them all in you and threw you at his doorstep in a pretty sundress, as if to say ‘here, this is the one. Good fucking luck’. Honestly, in retrospect, Chris stood no chance. There was no way he wouldn’t have developed feelings for you.

Regardless of how he felt, he tried his best to be respectful, to not make you uncomfortable in any way. He really did try his best, but by heaven and hell if there weren’t moments where he almost risked it all…

Chris could still remember the first time he saw you wearing a pair of leggings. The stretchy material hugged your lower limbs so perfectly it didn’t exactly leave much to the imagination… The sight of the fabric stretched over your perfectly round bottom and your big thighs almost broke down all those protective walls he had decided to put between you and him–especially when the very first thought he had as soon as he saw you on them was to bend you over the kitchen counter, rip the thing to pieces, and dive face first into your cunt from behind.

He couldn’t help but feel guilty every time he had those thoughts about you. In his mind, you just didn’t deserve that, for some horny creep to be secretly looking at you and thinking all these lewd, dirty things about you, but the more time passed, the more he got to know you, those thoughts became more and more frequent. And the most painful part of it all wasn’t just the undeniable sexual aspect of it all.

Chris often wanted to talk to you about anything and everything, to hold you, kiss you, feed you, cuddle you, just overall take care of you, and that feeling only intensified as soon as you started to take care of his packmates, as soon as you inadvertently fell fully into the position of pack parent right next to him for real. Sure, the rest of the pack members looked up to you to some degree, and they often called you mum to tease him, but he hadn’t truly grasped the extent of it all.

Chris hadn’t noticed that was what was happening at first, but one day, he saw as you took care of a sick Seungmin so attentively it just hit him like a ton of bricks.

You were so perfect for that role in his pack, and the fact that you were doing all those things, without even being romantically involved with him made him feel both warm with love and pained with longing. He knew then that you were supposed to be there next to him, with him, but that was something he couldn’t push on you, not when it didn’t seem like you were feeling the same things towards him in the slightest.

Or at least, that was what Chris tried to tell himself, to delude himself into not overstepping those boundaries between you two. The reality was that, sometimes, Chris thought he might’ve had a chance.

Times when he hugged you tight and he could hear your heartbeat pick up its pace, or when you sent him silly memes that you thought he’d find funny, or times when you teased him, almost, almost as if you were flirting with him, or whenever you took interest in his lycanthropy, or…

He often recalled very fondly how you would snuggle into him whenever you fell asleep on the sofa while watching a movie with him. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, he’d wake up with you in his arms, with your head tucked under his chin. Those times, he’d always pretend to be asleep for as long as he could, selfishly enjoying your warmth until you eventually woke up, gave him a kiss on the cheek with a racing heart, and mumbled sleepy apologies before retreating to your room. He’d tried to convince himself that you possibly feeling the same way was all wishful thinking, so he never truly entertained those thoughts.

Even then, there were things he just couldn’t stop himself from doing. At some point, scenting your clothes just wasn’t enough for him, so he started lending you articles of clothing of his–hoodies, mostly. He would’ve loved to see you wearing his t-shirts, or his bathrobe, but hoodies were a good enough compromise in his mind. He’d always give them to you whenever you showed any sign of feeling even remotely chilly, and he soon realised that that need of having you wrapped in his scent only grew bigger the closer his rut was.

The first rut Chris went into after you moved in was, quite honestly, insane. He was able to recognise the signs early enough to leave the flat he shared with you and stay at one of the vacant ones in the building, and when it finally hit him, it hit him hard. He didn’t think he’d had such a painful rut in his life–aside from the first one, which to this day he was sure was the perfect representation of what being in hell would feel like. 

Logically, he could’ve asked a friend to help him out. It was always best to deal with these things with another person there, but, somehow, the mere thought of being with someone like that after he realised his feelings for you was… Really unpleasant, so he decided to bear it on his own.

During that rut, all his inner wolf wanted was to have you. Your scent plagued his mind, the mental image of you and your thighs and your soft body had him with his fist around his cock the entire time, but it was never enough. He yearned to pleasure you, to taste you, to make you come undone for him as many times as he could, to have you in every possible way he could, to pump you full of his cum and breed you, and the fact that he couldn’t do that had him in both physical and emotional pain.

The worst part was that Chris felt like shit not only because whenever he was able to orgasm it didn’t seem to quench his desires a single bit, but also because he was thinking of you in such a way again. At the time, he was so desperate he could hardly think about it, but as soon as his rut subsided he had this immense guilt plaguing him. So much so he wasn’t able to look you in the eyes for a week straight after, so he swore he would try his best to never break your trust like that ever again.

And for a handful of months, it worked. He’d still share his hoodies with you, still have the need to hug you, and touch you, and take care of you, but whenever his mind drifted too much he’d give himself a reality check. She’s your roommate. Your friend. You’re more than just a horny dog, Christopher, he’d berate himself often, keeping his distance however he could.

It was hard sometimes, though. You’d taken this habit of looking him in the eyes… You used to do it before, too, but somehow it seemed different lately. Your gaze would linger on his for a few seconds longer than usual, enough to trigger his primal instincts, to make him want to assert his dominance–normally, that’d mean he’d want to physically fight for it, but with you, the only way his body wanted to assert his dominance was by bending you over and fucking you stupid, which didn’t help his case one bit.

It was incredibly silly of him to think that way whenever you looked him in the eyes for too long, considering that, even if you could, he just knew there was no way you’d challenge him for his position in the pack. So he’d always talk himself down of his instinctual reaction, reminding himself of who you were, of how he couldn’t let himself hurt you, or cross your boundaries in any way.

But his resolve crumbled a little over a year after you moved in, when Chris saw your freshly washed clothes messily sprawled on your bed while you were ovulating, almost as if you had prepared a pretty little nest for him to breed you in. That, coupled with the fact that you were wearing his clothes at the same time, triggered his already upcoming rut right then and there.

His mind clouded quickly, your floral scent filled every single crevice within him, making his alpha instincts kick in. Pleasure, dominate, breed, breed, breed… The words resonated repeatedly within him as he struggled to keep it together, to not jump you on the spot and do something he would regret, to not hurt you.

When he desperately tried to leave the flat, you just wouldn’t let him, you were clearly worried about him, and if there was one thing Chris had learnt about you was that it wasn’t in your nature to just ignore a friend in need. But God, you just smelt so good… It was getting increasingly harder to not act on his impulses. 

You kept looking him in the eyes, and it wasn’t making it any easier, not when his instincts wouldn’t just shut the fuck up. Show her. Make her submit. Dominate, dominate, dominate…

‘Go lock yourself in your fucking room while I can still think and hold back’, he held to his last shred of sanity until the very last second, all while his humanity and his inner wolf fought for dominance over his actions during the entire interaction.

What he hadn’t expected, though, was for you to return his feelings, for you to want him. ‘What if I don’t want you to hold back?’ 

In a second, as soon as the words left your mouth, he finally let himself see, hear, and smell all the signs. Your flushed face, your heart thumping aggressively in your chest, the smell of your arousal lingering in the air… He simply snapped. The second you gave him your consent and he finally got a taste of you, Chris knew there was no going back for him. He was in deep.

He wouldn’t be able to get over the feeling of your lips on his, the sounds that came out of your mouth whenever he touched you, the smell of your scent laced with so much lust he was almost vibrating with excitement at the prospect of all the things he could do to you, of how good he’d make you feel.

‘Wanna be mine? Just say it, love, and I’ll make you mine. All mine’.

Claim, claim, claim… No, no claiming, Christopher. Too soon, too soon, that’s not what she needs right now…

‘Wanna be yours… Wanted to for so long, too’.

For so long, for so long, for so long… She’s mine, mine, mine, all for me…

Finally, Chris was able to let go of his inhibitions and fulfil all those desires and needs he’d had for the longest time. Not only was he able to quench his thirst with your essence on his tongue, or release all that tension that kept on building within him with the intoxicating feel of the soft skin of your inner thighs and the velvety walls of your cunt wrapped around his cock, but also he made you feel so much pleasure you were barely even able to talk and walk after he did. That simple fact had his chest swelling with pride, had him going through so many waves of his rut that by the fourth day of fucking you nonstop he could barely stand the tiniest movement around his cock.

Chris was being driven by both his emotional and physical needs the entire time, driven by his instincts to fulfil both his and your desires, but by the fourth night of his rut he had regained some of his human clarity back. It was just as you two were having a bath, as you took care of him, washing his hair–something no one had ever come remotely close to doing after he became an adult–that he came to a very important realisation.

Not only had you taken the time to understand him and the role he had within his pack, you’d taken the time to understand each and every single member in it, you supported them all in every way you could, and even though you were human, your body was able to take Chris in his most animalistic state. So it was right then, right as he looked at the soft, focused features of your face when you massaged his scalp, that he realised that the universe had really made you all for him, perfect just for him.

He’d said this to you time and time again throughout his rut, because it just felt right to say them, but only then did he realise how true it all was.

It wasn’t unheard of. It happened often in werewolves. Not to every single one, but it was often enough that he was able to connect the dots. It was said that there would always be someone out there that would be able to strengthen those areas a wolf might be lacking in. And for Chris, that someone was you. 

Even when he woke up the next day, with his mind finally clear of his more animalistic impulses and desires, he knew that to be the truth.

It was a lot to take in, and if it was a lot for him who had been labelled Mr Intense several times throughout his life by both friends and partners, he was sure it would’ve been a lot for you, too. So he decided to file this for later, for it to be discussed when the time was right.

As it was now, he felt as if everything had been done backwards, so he had to start settling the foundations of a possible relationship with you–sure, you’d let him fuck you silly for four days straight, but what if you had been influenced by his pheromones? What if you realised you didn’t want him like that? That it’d be too much?

So he asked you out on a date, he wanted to take you to the seasonal fair, and to his delight–and maybe relief…–you accepted. It was almost comical how fast his heart would beat whenever you got close to him during that date, especially so considering he had already told you so many filthy, intimate things during his rut, but as you tugged him along to rides and games and food stalls, it all felt different to him somehow. More meaningful, perhaps.

That evening, when you were both walking back home, as Chris held your hand tightly in his, right under the seasonal lights that had been placed above the road, he just couldn’t help himself when he cradled your face and kissed you. A slow, sensual kiss that had his heart doing flips in his chest, and he simply revelled in the way you moved closer to him, in the way you held his coat tightly in your hands, in the way your lips moved against his.

A motion so natural he just couldn’t believe he hadn’t been doing this since the day he met you. When he pulled back, he asked you to be his girlfriend, and the moment you said yes, his heart soared, and he couldn’t help but feel incredibly giddy.

Now, Chris could hold you as much as he wanted, touch you as much as he wanted, he could tell you everything without having to measure his words, and he was so, so ready to enjoy every second of it. To enjoy every single second he’d spend with you–even more than he did before.

You were still sleeping in your bedroom, or at least, you did for the first few days after your date. That was fine by Chris, he had been making up for the lost time at work because of the ‘unexpected sick leave’ he had to take during his rut, so he was coming home late at night, barely even seeing your pretty face before he took a shower and dropped dead on his bed until the next day. It was best for you to sleep on your own so he wouldn’t disturb you. That was Chris’ reasoning.

At least, until tonight.

“Hey”, your voice made him look away from his phone and over his shoulder, finding you peeking your head from behind the door with a shy smile on your lips.

“Why are you up? You should be sleeping, love”, Chris turned, lying on his back and fixing his eyes on you.

“I missed you”, you replied simply, making your way into the room, your words effectively bringing heat to the back of his neck.

Chris let out a content sigh, watching you get on his bed and finally straddle his hips. His hands settled on your thighs, rubbing up and down in soothing motions. If only it weren’t so cold so you weren’t wearing these pyjama bottoms… They were cute, fluffy, with doughnuts printed all over them, but he selfishly wished he could feel your skin under his hands.

“Missed you, too. So much”.

You leaned into him, resting your entire body weight on him to press a kiss to his lips. Chris could definitely get used to this. To the feeling of you pressed against him, even with the duvet separating your bodies, he just loved feeling you close, especially when you kissed him so softly, so… Lovingly.

You’d been his girlfriend for a total of three days, it had been almost an entire week since the end of his rut, and you two hadn’t had sex since then. You’d told him you needed some time to recover, which was perfectly fine. Chris himself felt like he needed a short break as well, after all, getting back into his normal rhythm after a rut was always a process.

Besides that, though, your comfort was always his first priority, it had always been that way, but even more so now. He wanted to wait until you felt fine, until you were ready for it again. 

Although, he’d admit it wasn’t particularly easy. Not when you looked Like That all the time and he just wanted to sink his teeth on your soft flesh any time he got the tiniest glimpse of your skin. 

Sure, he was no longer in a rut, he was a coherent man, with coherent thoughts, completely capable of simply enjoying your presence without escalating any further than a hug or a kiss. But tonight, as his tongue made its way into your mouth, as your hips rolled against him, as his hands started to roam your back, only to settle on your rear to fondle the supple flesh, Chris was truly starting to feel ravenous, desperate to feel you, desperate to make you feel incredibly good.

“Chris, baby…” you mumbled against his lips, resuming your motions immediately after the words left your mouth, pressing pecks on his lips. 

“Hm?” Chris took your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging gently, gripping your buttcheeks tighter, and the whimper that came out of your mouth almost, almost made him lightheaded with how fast blood rushed to his cock. 

“Want you…”

Chris’ eyes snapped open, and he pulled away from you to look you in the eyes, finding your blown pupils and flushed cheeks. Beautiful, gorgeous, pretty… Swallowing, he brought a hand to your cheek, softly dragging his thumb over your skin. “Pretty… You sure? Are you feeling okay?”

“Mm”, with a hard roll of your hips to emphasise your statement, you pressed a brief kiss on his lips. “Positive. I’ve almost forgotten how you feel like inside me, baby. That’s a crime”.

Chris huffed an incredulous chuckle. “So soon? Damn, must’ve not fucked you enough, then”.

“Oh, you fucked me plenty. I just want more”, a grin spread on your lips, looking utterly shameless, and Chris would lie if he said it didn’t excite him.

“Greedy, huh?” 

Before you could even attempt to bite back, Chris rolled to the side, taking you with him, effectively wrapping you in the duvet, like the most adorable burrito, and trapping you under him, eliciting a yelp from your lips with the movement.

“Not fair”, God, you shouldn’t be allowed to pout, it disarmed him way too quickly. Chris couldn’t help but peck your lips, as many times as necessary, until you started giggling.

“What? My pretty baby wants to be on top?” Chris placed a kiss on your cheekbone. Your skin was warm, soft, you smelt like your moisturiser and your floral scent, and he just absolutely loved it.

“Maybe”, you mumbled, sounding more distracted now that Chris’ lips had descended to your neck, now that he was kissing and nibbling your skin.

Your hands roamed his back, making him shiver, especially so when you dragged your fingers down his spine, finally reaching his bum, and confidently squeezing. “Why are you naked?” You chuckled, clearly amused, and Chris settled his weight on his elbows so he could look at your face better.

“I was already ready to sleep, baby. You know I sleep naked”.

“You do?” You laughed, and it made him smile. “I thought the kids were saying that just to mess with you”.

“Oh, they were messing with me”, Chris chuckled. “But they weren’t lying”.

“So… If we start sleeping together, you’d sleep naked, too?” You squeezed his buttcheek again, a bit harder this time. It was barely anything, but it was working him up way more than it should have, for sure. Chris was already hard and leaking just by your presence, by your warmth and your kisses, but even then the simple implication that you wanted to share a bed with him every night had his heart doing flips in his chest, had his cock twitching with need.

“Would you mind?” He pulled away from you enough to untangle the duvet away from your body. As soon as you were released, he tugged on your pyjama top, and you let him get it off of you immediately.

“Not one bit”, was all you replied, and Chris gave you a hum of acknowledgement just as he tugged your bottoms off.

He got, admittedly, a bit distracted. Of course you wouldn’t be wearing any underwear under your pyjamas, you were ready for bed already, but it still caught him off guard.

The marks he’d left on your body during his rut were starting to fade, and all he wanted right now was to mark you all over again. Did he have a problem? Maybe he did. As his hands made their way to cup your tits, squeezing them briefly only to finally settle on playing with your nipples, the sounds that were coming out of your mouth made it incredibly hard for him to care.

“How’re you this pretty, huh?” While Chris kept softly rolling your nipples between his fingers, your hands came to hold his wrists, gently rubbing his skin with your thumbs as you arched your back, moaning oh, so sweetly for him.

“Chris, babe…” Your hold on his wrists tightened, shifting Chris’ attention from your breasts to your eyes again. The smell of your arousal had him literally salivating, had him feeling like a hungry dog, ready to devour you whole, and when you dropped the most desperate ‘kiss me’ he couldn’t help but do just that, removing his hands from your chest to hug you close.

You whined as soon as his lips landed on yours, moulding to yours time and time again, eventually pushing his tongue inside your mouth, savouring you, swallowing every sigh and every whimper that fell from your lips. He kissed you for a while, enjoying the feeling of you holding him tightly, enjoying the way your heartbeat kept picking up its pace, until the slow, deep kisses turned messier, more eager, until he couldn’t ignore just how badly he wanted to have a taste of you.

As he started his descent down your torso, kissing your clavicle, your chest, sucking your nipple into his mouth to play with the hardened bud for a bit with his tongue, he couldn’t help his hands from roaming your body. Your thighs, your hips, your sides, anywhere he could reach.

His fingers sunk on your flesh, eliciting quiet whimpers from your mouth, just as he kept licking the pebbled skin of your nipples and your hardened buds. Chris just really couldn’t help himself from kneading and squeezing your skin, tracing every dip, every roll, every curve, until his mouth finally resumed its path further down your body.

“Baby…” You mumbled once Chris’ mouth attached to your lower belly, nipping and kissing and sucking on your skin, making you squirm.

“Hm?” Chris would admit he was only partially listening, there was not much coherent thinking going on in his brain at that moment, all he could think about was you, you, you, and your soft skin, and your floral scent, and how it was all heavily tinted with lust.

You didn’t say anything, though, you simply inhaled a shaky breath once Chris’ attention was shifting again, from your lower belly to your mound, and finally, bringing his forearms under your thighs, he pushed them towards your chest, attaching his mouth to your skin so he could repaint all those marks that had started to fade.

He vaguely registered the words ‘such delicious thighs, fuck…’ coming out of his mouth, just as he vaguely registered the whimper you gave him in response. He repeated his motions until he was satisfied with the amount of freshly made love bites on your thighs, finally directing his attention to your dripping heat.

Chris truly was just a simple man.

A simple man with simple needs.

Sinking his fingers in the soft skin of your thighs, keeping you spread open for him, he finally dived, licking a slow, fat stripe from your entrance to your clit, all but moaning at your taste on his tongue, brows pulled together in bliss.

Chris got comfortable, laying on his stomach, and slurping you up. The moans and whines and whimpers that came out of your mouth with each and every single one of his movements, the way your fingers threaded through his hair, the way your hand pushed on his head to get him impossibly closer to you, only encouraged him more. Your free hand came to rest on one of his, and he wasted no time letting go of your thigh to hold your hand instead, linking his fingers with yours, relishing the warmth of your palm against his.

“Oh, fuck…” Your legs started to tremble as soon as he eased two fingers into you, and his mind raced with the feel of your heat wrapped around his digits. So warm, soft… He wasn’t sure if the words actually left his mouth or if it was just his instincts taking a hold of his mind, but he honestly didn’t care, either. 

As he started to add more and more fingers, until he was stretching you open as much as he could, your thighs clamped around his head, and Chris truly, truly couldn’t contain the literal animalistic growl that came out of his mouth, muffling against your skin as he diligently sucked your clit into his mouth and licked it with his tongue.

Letting go of your hand to grip your outer thigh, he simply encouraged you to keep that position, to borderline suffocate him with your legs, and honestly for all he cared he could’ve died right then and there, choked by the most delicious thighs he’d ever had the pleasure of touching, of kissing, of fucking–

Shit, he wanted to fuck your thighs. Would you ever let him do that again? Between the feeling of your walls around his fingers, your taste on his tongue, the sinful sounds coming out of your mouth, and the mere thought of fucking your thighs again, he could feel himself start to leak even more fluids, surely soiling his bedsheets–not like he cared much about it, to be honest.

Chris decided to ignore that thought altogether. He didn’t want to ruin the mood by bringing that up, not right now. So he shifted his focus back into the now, back to your hand tugging his hair and his fingers in your cunt and his mouth on your clit.

For a split second, he wondered if he should stop, if he should slow down to prolong this further, to eventually build you up once again and enhance your impending release. He’d been the one teasing you about it earlier, but the truth was, tonight, he was the greedy one, desperate to bring you unadulterated pleasure, so he didn’t stop.

Instead, he just sped up his fingers, thrusting harder, curling them up against that sweet spot within your walls in the exact way he’d learnt would have you curling your toes and flexing your thighs. He sucked harder, licked harder, revelling in the cries coming out of your mouth, revelling in the feel of you, all soft and warm and his.

When you came, moaning his name like the sweetest song he’d ever heard, Chris’ thoughts hazed, feeling your walls clenching repeatedly around his fingers, feeling your thighs twitching slightly around his head. And the moment you tried to pull yourself away from him, he just didn’t budge, bringing his hand from where it had been gripping your thigh to your hip, holding you tight and pinning you in place.

“Oh, fuck… Fuck, fuck, Chris, you–Shit–” Whatever it was you were trying to tell him got caught in your throat, all words replaced by broken moans and whines, which only fueled that determination that had quickly built within him. Pleasure, pleasure, pleasure, pleasure…

Chris didn’t relent until you were shaking with a consecutive high, until you tugged on his hair and begged with a breathless ‘Shit, Chris, darling, can’t handle it anymore, please…’ effectively snapping him out of it. Pulling on your thighs to get you to release your hold on him, and kissing his way up your body, Chris’ lips finally found your face, kissing away the salty tears that had run down your cheeks, only to finally find your mouth and kiss you deeply.

You let out the dreamiest sigh of relief when he kissed you, making him hum against your mouth, and as you hugged him close to you, tightly, bare chest against bare chest, his heart felt as if it was ready to burst at the seams.

“Fuck, love, you okay?” Chris wanted to check, to make sure his greediness didn’t get the best of him, and when you nodded enthusiastically, finding his lips and kissing him again, that minimal worry in his mind dissipated instantly.

“No business being that good with your mouth, fuck”, you mumbled against his lips, making him chuckle, just as you wrapped your legs around his torso, pulling him closer.

“Got a bit carried away… I can tone it down next time, if that’s what you want”, he teased you a bit with a grin on his lips, just as he held the base of his length and guided it to your entrance.

“Don’t you dare”, you replied almost immediately, pressing another loud kiss on his lips. “Want you just as you are. You always make me feel so good, baby…”

Chris hummed, content, keeping himself propped up on one elbow, kissing you as he dragged his tip up and down your folds, getting drenched in your slick. He was fully intending on not fucking you yet, on giving you time to catch your breath, he truly just wanted to feel your wetness against his cock, but when you noticed what he was doing, and urged him with a ‘if you don’t get inside of me right now I’ll cry for real, baby, please’, he simply couldn’t deny you.

Heaven, heaven, heaven, heaven, warm, warm, warm… “Fuck, it really hasn’t been that long, but I missed being inside you”, Chris couldn’t help but mumble against the skin of your neck once he bottomed out, relishing the way your walls just hugged him so perfectly, relishing how warm and snug it felt.

“Me too, baby”, you chuckled softly, threading your fingers through his hair, mindlessly playing with it. 

Keeping himself propped up enough, and once his other hand found yours, linking your fingers together, Chris finally started to move. He started slow, savouring every drag of his cock against your heat just as he kept kissing you, swallowing your quiet moans.

Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he pressed slow, wet kisses on the sensitive skin of your neck, making you squirm in his hold, and the whines that came out of your mouth as you bared your neck for him had his pace picking up just the tiniest bit, had his instincts kicking in and his lips sucking purple splotches on your skin. Mark, mark, mark, mark…

It truly hadn’t been that long, but now that he was able to feel you like this again, Chris realised he had missed it more than he thought. How could he not, when you were so warm, so soft, and just so, so perfect for him in every way, and as he whispered these things in your ear, all while bringing his hands under you, one holding your shoulder, and the other holding one of your buttcheeks to keep you from sliding away from him with his movements, there was absolutely no doubt in his mind that that was the absolute, irrevocable truth. 

“All yours, Chris”, you mumbled back to him, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts, the reassurance alone sending sparks of pleasure up and down his spine, and when you added a “just like you’re all mine, too”, emphasised with a tug on his hair, he just couldn’t hold back the sounds that were coming out of his mouth, nor the rumbling that started to resonate from deep within him. Which, had he not been absolutely drunk on your presence, would’ve puzzled him, and maybe embarrass him a bit.

It wasn’t that common for alphas to rumble outside of their rut, and Chris was no exception to this. He could probably count with one hand the times he had rumbled after puberty. But as he continued to pleasure you, to indulge in your body, he realised his quiet, slow, almost involuntary rumble was just another sign. Another sign that he was all yours, you were all his, and nothing had ever made more sense to him in this life than those two facts.

Holding you tightly, he rolled to the side, bringing you with him so you could sit on him, making you gasp with the change in angle once he was buried within your walls again.

“C’mon, pretty… Didn’t you want to be on top? Ride me”, he mumbled against the skin of your neck, sinking his fingers on the swell of your hips. “Ride me like you mean it, love. Show me how much you wanted it”.

And you did. He attached his mouth to your chest, determined to leave as many love bites as he could like he did with your thighs, just as he could feel his body burn from the inside out while you bounced on his cock. Mine, mine, mine, mine…. 

Time slipped between his fingers, his mind and body lost completely on you, just like you got lost on him, exploring one another until you came once more, until you eventually got off his lap, took him between your lips and made him come in your mouth. When he borderline begged you to open up and show him, he was sure the sight of his cum pooled in your mouth would be ingrained in his brain forever, and when he asked you to swallow and you did, showing him your clean tongue right after, he couldn’t help but feel tingly all over, so incredibly enraptured by you, and your mouth, and your body, and your mind, and your absolutely everything.

After a quick clean up and more kisses and more caring words, Chris simply hugged you close under the covers, burying his face in the crook of your neck as your fingers buried in his curls and massaged his scalp softly. The sound of your heartbeat under his ear was lulling him to sleep, and when you held him even tighter against your body and he started to rumble again, he simply didn’t question it, too tired and sleepy and in love to care at all once he finally fell asleep that night.

Starting a romantic relationship with you meant that there were hardly any reservations in this flat anymore. Chris would walk around almost naked most of the time, wearing nothing but comfortable, loose fitting pyjama shorts, just as you’d do the same. Walking around topless or wearing only your underwear under one of his oversized tees, and honestly Chris was having the time of his life seeing so much of your body all the time he had to make a conscious effort to not have his hands on you all the time–he failed miserably every time, but by the heavens he was trying.

You both had decided to keep Chris’ bedroom as your shared room, whereas your room would become a study of sorts for both, since you kindly requested ‘no work in the bedroom, darling, please’, which was perfectly reasonable. 

The dynamic within the pack didn’t change at all, you were already doing all the things the partner of a pack’s alpha would typically do before you got together, so the only minor difference now was that you and Chris would often engage in very shameless public displays of affection, eliciting a groan or two from the younger members of the pack. They’d have to endure it, because Chris had no plans to stop any time soon. And he was very unapologetic about it.

Others, though, started airing his dirty laundry to you. ‘I wish you could’ve heard how fast his heart would beat when you got close to him before. How flustered he got…’ Seungmin just wouldn’t shut up about it, and even though you were his girlfriend now and all his prior struggles were something you were very aware of, Chris still threatened to smack him with a slipper if he kept talking to you about it–a completely empty threat, but it did slow down his jabs a bit.

By the two month mark Chris was one hundred percent sure he’d never felt this good in a relationship before, and if these couple of months were an omen of how the rest of his life would be, he was more than ready for it. 

“Baby, no offence, but no wonder you had to get a roommate”, you chuckled, mindlessly playing with his hair.

Chris laid on his back with his head between your legs, your tummy posing as the softest pillow he’d ever used. Your legs draped over his shoulders, caging his head between them while he played on his phone. It was a common position for Chris and you to ‘cuddle’ at this point, just laying together on the sofa as both of you took some time to unwind from the long day, scrolling on your phones, watching TV, or engaging in conversation.

“What’d you find?” Chris mindlessly caressed the skin of your outer thigh, squeezing the flesh here and there whenever he felt like it.

A few days ago, you had offered to help organise the finances of the pack, and today Chris was finally able to send you all the documents he could find related to everyone’s income and expenses. He’d been taking care of it on his own, but he found the task to be incredibly annoying and sometimes even confusing, so he’d be the first to admit he wasn’t doing as well as he could’ve with it… Especially with his own finances.

“Well, the kids seem to be taking care of their expenses well enough… They could probably cut down on some extras if they want to have some extra money…” Chris was trying his best to listen, he really was, but he started to zone out almost immediately, distracted by the warmth of your thighs around his head.

He squeezed your thigh, inhaling sharply, getting almost overwhelmed by your scent. “But you…” His ears perked up, focusing on what you were telling him. “Do you even know you are being billed for all these things? What do you even need a scooter insurance for?”

“I’m still paying for that insurance?!”

“Mhm, look”, you handed him your phone. Chris looked at the numbers on the screen, incredulous, and slightly annoyed with himself for forgetting about these things. “Do you even have a scooter?”

“Sold it ages ago, before I even got the car”, he scoffed, handing you your phone back. “Guess it just… Slipped my mind to cancel that thing”.

“There are more like these, y’know?” You chuckled, gently tugging on his hair. “You reckless wolf, what am I gonna do with you?”

Chris simply chuckled in response, turning his head a bit to place a kiss on your inner thigh as you continued to list things he had completely forgotten about. It took you both a while to go through everything, by the time you were done, he had pulled himself from between your legs, deciding to instead sit with his back against the backrest, spreading his legs as much as he wanted, with your legs laying over his.

There was some film playing on the TV. Chris tried to keep his eyes glued to it, but in all honesty, he wasn’t watching any of it, he didn’t even know which film it was.

The way you were laying on the sofa with your legs on his lap made it so the t-shirt you were wearing rode up almost completely, leaving your thighs on full display for Chris to touch and stare at. It was nothing unusual or particularly revealing, but he’d spent the past hour just squeezing and massaging your thighs, and the motions were getting him really worked up. Maybe embarrassingly so.

Even if he’d fucked you silly and seen you naked a thousand times already, he was somehow especially affected today. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t had sex in a few days–which was fine, contrary to what the rest teased Chris for, you two didn’t fuck every single day. Several times a week? Yes. But not every day. Mostly because either one of you would be too exhausted due to your jobs or your studies or whatever situation you both were going through that week.

Chris had caught himself thinking about your thighs a lot lately. Whenever you sat on his lap, or when you draped your legs over him when you slept, he just couldn’t help but look at them, to touch them. It had gotten to the point where, whenever your schedules got busy and you couldn’t get intimate for one reason or the other, he’d found himself wanking one off thinking maybe bit too much about your thighs. Touching them, kissing them, sucking on them, fucking them…

“Baby…” He squeezed your thigh lightly, keeping his eyes focused on the way the skin dipped under his hold. “If I tell you something… Something slightly embarrassing… Would you judge me?”

You turned away from your phone to look at him. “Never, babe. What’s bothering you?”

Chris swallowed the saliva he hadn’t even realised had pooled in his mouth, massaging your thighs a bit more firmly. “I… Really, really like your thighs…”

“I can tell”, you tucked your phone under the cushion you were using to prop yourself up, giving him your full attention. “That’s not embarrassing, though?”

“That’s not the embarrassing part…” Taking a deep breath, Chris licked his lips. He’d had a chub for a long while now, he’d been trying to ignore it, but the more he touched your bare skin, the more he just enjoyed the feeling of your soft flesh under his fingertips, he just couldn’t ignore it any longer. “I… Think about them often. Maybe too often. About how soft and squishy and big they are…”

“You do?” There was a bit of a teasing tone in your voice, but the way your heartbeat suddenly quickened was enough for Chris to know you weren’t teasing him because you found it particularly amusing, but just to get him even more worked up, to get him to react, and honestly he willingly fell for it, just like he did every single time.

“Mhm…” It wasn’t anything particularly new, not to him. The thighs… They’ve always been a part of a person’s body he’d tended to focus on, and the only time he tried to openly discuss it with someone in depth they looked at him like he was crazy, so he was embarrassed, and maybe a little apprehensive. But right now, he was just horny and in love and your thighs were just so soft, he just couldn’t contain the words from leaving his mouth. “Fuck, pretty, wanna fuck them so bad right now. Just… Really wanna come all over them…”

Chris had only ever fucked your thighs during his rut, he’d never brought that up into your day to day sexual activities. He was just convinced it wasn’t exactly common to have such cravings, considering he’d had partners tell him that before. Sure, you’d let him do it already when he was going through his rut, but there were a lot of pheromones and hormonal rushes involved back then, this was different. This was his completely coherent human self wanting to fuck a part of your body that wasn’t exactly common to want to fuck.

Licking your lips, and with a shaky intake of breath, you brought your hand to his, placing it there to bring his attention to your eyes. “Wanna do it now?”

There was no hint of judgement in your eyes, if anything Chris could see your pupils dilate, he could hear your heart beating faster in your chest, so he gave you an almost shy nod. “Do you, though?”

Your hold on his hand tightened a bit. “These are yours, Chris. I’m all yours”, your low tone, the desire coating your words, had him biting his lower lip and inhaling deeply, getting a whiff of your floral scent slightly tinted with lust, and it was honestly starting to cloud his mind a bit. “I don’t think it’s anything to be embarrassed about, baby. I actually think it’s quite hot… Makes me feel… Wanted. Is that how it is? Do you want me?”

“‘Course I do. Never not want you, pretty”, sneaking his hand between your thighs, Chris squeezed the tender flesh at the highest point, right where it met your core, making you almost squeal.

You stared back at him, in that way that almost made his alpha instincts kick in, in that way that made him want to make you submit to him in any way he could, but before Chris could say anything–or do anything–you spoke again. “Well… There’s massage oil in the coffee table…”

Of course there was massage oil in one of the drawers of the coffee table. You and Chris kept it there since before you got together, for times where the other felt their shoulders particularly stiff or for when any of the kids came over with the same problem. He’d lie if he said he never thought about… Using it in more inappropriate ways before, but it had been so long since you’d used it he had honestly forgotten about it.

With a chuckle, Chris shuffled a bit, careful not to let your legs fall out of his lap as he leaned forward to open the drawer and take out the bottle. Settling back on the sofa, as comfortable as he could, he instructed you, “scoot your legs back a bit, love. Need to take my shorts off”.

So you did, and once he found himself bare, he guided you towards him just as he slouched further into the sofa, bringing your legs back to his lap. Taking the bottle of oil, Chris took his time lathering your inner thighs with it, lightly massaging your flesh as he went, relishing the way your breathing was starting to get a bit more laboured with each drag of his hands on your skin, until finally, he soaked his cock, giving himself a couple of languid pumps.

Once Chris was content with how soaked you both were, he gave you the bottle so you could place it on the floor, just as he guided your legs to close around his length, and the sigh of relief that left his lips was honestly almost pathetic to his ears–not like he could care much about it when the most delicious thighs he’d ever seen were practically suffocating his cock.

“So good, fuck…” It wasn’t a particularly easy angle to do this in, but he was too far gone to care, so Chris simply angled his body towards you enough for both of you to be comfortable. Slowly, he started to thrust, his eyes focused on the sight of his tip popping out from between your legs, almost rubbing your core with each motion, feeling himself leak and almost drool as tiny sparks of pleasure started to travel down his spine. 

There was a voice at the back of his head telling him that he wasn’t taking care of your pleasure, that he was being too selfish by rutting himself between your thighs like this, but before he could even feel bad about it, Chris heard you whimper, and when his eyes snapped from the sight of his cock between your legs to your face, he couldn’t help but swallow. Your face was flushed, your lower lip trapped between your teeth, and your brows furrowed as you looked back at him.

“Is this how you wanted me, darling?” When the words left your mouth, almost breathless, Chris swallowed again, slowly nodding. Somehow, you looked like you were enjoying it as much as he did, and that realisation had him growing impossibly hard.

“Just like this, pretty… Seriously, these thighs of yours… They’re gonna be the death of me. So full and soft… So delicious…” Sliding one of his hands under your shirt, he found one of your breasts, kneading it and squeezing it for a bit only to finally pinch your nipple between his fingers in tandem with his cock pumping itself between your legs, relishing the soft moan that left your mouth when he did.

“Babe, I want you to… To enjoy yourself”, there was a pout on your lips, but Chris could feel your thighs twitch every time he rolled your nipple between his fingers, and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Oh, I am”, letting his head fall onto the backrest, Chris just looked at your face, at the way it scrunched up in pleasure and the way your eyelids fluttered shut with every movement of his, just as one of his hands kept working you up and the other held onto your thigh to keep you in place while he fucked himself between them. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby… Most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen…”

Chris had this habit of rambling and running his mouth when he was horny or when he was feeling vulnerable. He’d told you this before, so he was sure you weren’t surprised by the things that came out of his mouth when you had sex by now, but everything he said was something he truly believed, it wasn’t all just horny talk. His last statement was no exception. You were, truly, the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, and he’d believed that since the very first day he saw you.

You just whimpered in response, clenching your thighs harder, making him groan with the motion. Pulling your tee further up your torso, you brought your hand to your other breast, kneading it and playing with your nipple as Chris kept stimulating the other, as he kept fucking your thighs, and honestly he didn’t know where to look–to your gorgeous, blissed out face, to your hand and his working your chest, or to where his cock popped out from between your legs… It was all so much, and so, so good, and he truly was almost drooling with the intensity of it all.

It went on like this for a while, until Chris felt his orgasm grow closer. He hazily reached a compromise with himself, to let himself come first, something he didn’t do often. He usually preferred to have you reach your climax and fuck your brains out while you were all sensitive and drenched and squirming, but he needed this, and boy if he was ready to make it up to you after.

With a few more thrusts, giving you a quick warning, and a garnish of your name coupled with a colourful assortment of swear words, Chris finally came. His cum quickly pooled on the valley created by your thighs and your core, soaking your underwear, a bit even landed on your lower belly, and truly, you were always beautiful, every day, in every way, but especially so when you were covered in his cum.

“Shit, look at that, huh…” Chris felt lightheaded, but that didn’t stop him from reaching out to your lower belly, spreading his cum around with two of his fingers, only to finally bring them to your mouth, and, just like you always did, your lips wrapped around his digits, licking them clean with a satisfied moan. “Like eating my cum, pretty baby? Looks like you do, you’re sucking so eagerly, hm?”

You nodded, finally opening your eyes and letting his fingers pop out of your mouth. “Love it. How could I not? When you always have so much for me?”

Chris couldn’t help but chuckle, ignoring the heat he felt spread on his face. “All for you, love… All of it. All of me”.

You chuckled, regarding him with a smile. “How’re we gonna get out of this one without staining the sofa?”

“Take off that t-shirt, let’s use that”.

After wiping you off with his tee, Chris pulled you into his lap, bringing you close to him with one hand caressing your thigh and the other cradling the back of your head, just as you settled your legs at either side of him and your hands on his chest. You kissed like this for a bit, until your lips wandered off, pressing a trail of kisses from his mouth to his neck.

When you pulled back from his neck, you looked at him with such adoring eyes Chris thought he was going to melt right then and there. “You really like my thighs, huh?” You looked down, to where he was tightly holding onto the supple flesh of your thigh, and Chris really couldn’t help the bashful smile that came to his face when you called him out on it.

“Just fucked them and came all over them, baby. Can’t hide it, I’m fucking obsessed with them”.

You just chuckled, pressing your bare chest as much as you could against his to hug him close, just as you placed a brief kiss to his lips. “I meant it earlier, babe. You can fuck them whenever you want. I like it when you do. It’s really hot”.

“Oh, pretty, love… I fucking will. Shit, how couldn’t I…” Inhaling deeply, Chris kissed you, maybe a bit too hard, a bit too eager, but he still revelled in your soft moans as he did.

Linking his arms under your ass to keep you secure in place, he stood up from the sofa, earning a surprised squeal from your lips that got lost in his mouth. He simply laid down on the sofa with you on top of him, giving you a tight squeeze on one of your buttcheeks. 

“Now, pretty baby…” He spoke between kisses, just as his hands roamed your body, squishing and kneading your soft flesh all over. “I need you to sit on my face. Want to make you feel good”.

You simply giggled in response, giving him one quick, loud kiss. “Someone’s hungry today”.

“For you? Always”, Chris chuckled. “Then, if you can still walk after, we can go stargazing tonight”, he added with a smile and a playful smack on your ass.

Chris was determined to show you just how hungry for you he was time and time again if necessary. How could he not be hungry for you? He’d realised that, for him, you embodied the very essentials of his pack. You embodied those things he so desperately wanted to have in his pack since he had decided to start one. Care, love, support, acceptance… 

Whether it be his and his friends’ lycanthropy or his kinks or his odd spending habits, you seemed to accept it all as part of him. He shouldn’t be surprised, really. He shouldn’t doubt it. After all, you were made for him, all for him, perfect just for him, and he was ready to enjoy it, to enjoy you and your company for as long as you’d let him.

Author’s Note x2: while i was writing this, i took some time to re-read It’s Cold Out again after a long time and holy shit. i hadn’t fully realised how much my writing has changed since then. to the point where to me it doesn’t feel like ICO was written by me anymore. it’s crazy lol. i’m happy i’ve gotten to expand on this AU, and i’m even happier that i get to share it with you all. if you’re reading this, thank you, you’re awesome

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Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :) feel free to leave your comments in the caption/tags when you reblog, or by sending me an ask !

Chris’ WereRoomies Instalments: It’s Cold Out · Rut · Alpha Dog · It’s Warm In · Love is Easy · Afraid to Lose You. For extra drabbles, check out the series masterlist.

#stray kids supernatural au #stray kids fantasy AU #stray kids werewolf au #bang chan smut #bang chan fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan fic #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #werewolf chan #werewolf bang chan #✨🌙✏

[thedemonofcat]

As I immersed myself in the books, watched the show, and even played one of the games, I couldn't help but wonder about the immense popularity of Jaskier among the fan base. Joey Batey's stellar performance in the Netflix series undoubtedly plays a significant role, but that only accounts for his portrayal in that specific adaptation.

Then it struck me.

When it comes to Jaskier, very little information is actually known beyond a few minor facts.

This is everything currently known about Jaskier

1.) Jaskier is an important character, largely depicted through his close friendship with Geralt, which forms a central aspect of his interactions.

2.) A talented bard, Jaskier received his education at Oxenfurt academy, where he graduated with the highest honors as a Master of the seven liberal arts. This suggests that he possesses intelligence beyond what he often portrays.

3.) Originating from the town of Lettenhove, Jaskier holds the title of Viscount, and his true name is Julian Alfred Pankratz Viscount de Lettenhove. The specific location of Lettenhove on the map, however, remains undisclosed.

4.) Jaskier is known to have numerous romantic partners, as the Netflix adaptation even confirms his involvement with both male and female individuals.

5.) Jaskier's loyalty to Geralt knows almost no bounds, and he is willing to make great sacrifices, even risking his life, to ensure Geralt's safety.

6.) Remarkably, despite being one of the few human characters, Jaskier seems to defy the aging process. This intriguing aspect of his character is not just a casting error in the Netflix series but is also referenced in the books, where his youthful appearance compared to his actual age is mentioned

The enigmatic nature of Jaskier's character offers a captivating canvas for fan creations. With limited canonical information, fans can freely explore various backstories and headcanons. Some popular fan theories propose that Jaskier is more than just human, potentially having ties to a non-human lineage. Others imagine a tragic past, where one of his parents, often his father, was abusive, and he grew up with siblings.

In the realm of fan fiction, creative minds have woven tales of Jaskier's immortality, delving into the reasons behind his agelessness. These speculations and many more allow fans to shape Jaskier as a blank slate, utilizing the scarce details available to craft diverse and compelling narratives that align with their own interpretations of the character.

This artistic freedom empowers fans to explore the depths of Jaskier's persona and invent their unique perspectives, making him a versatile and captivating figure in the realm of fan works

#the witcher netflix #joey batey #geralt of rivia #the witcher #jaskier the witcher #henry cavill #the witcher jaskier #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #jaskier #gerskier #cirilla fiona elen riannon #freya allan #headcanon #yennefer of vengerberg #anya cholatra #anya chalotra #the witcher season 3 #fic ideas #witcher yennefer #the witcher season three

[britcision]

GUESS WHAT FRIENDS I HAVE BEEN DOING MATH AGAIN no one is going to be happy about it 🥳

1) by the time Delgal reached the surface (6 years pre series), Senshi had been living in the dungeon for 44 years.

He coulda visited on the way up, and probably passed the veggie-golems

2) Thistle kept his dungeon at level 1 (per the canaries’ dungeon guide) for almost 1000 years

Mithrun’s entire span as a dungeon lord was over in 5

Now, Thistle’s did also progress pretty fast from level 2 to 5… but it still took 6 years

This is actually a super similar timeline, especially because we know Mithrun’s dungeon never hit 5… and we don’t actually know what level it got to, since it all depends on when he became a monsterfucker

(His lover’s snake half is referenced here around level 2 - see the gold scrapers

We know that’s the lover because they are always drawn with the unique shirt and hair and the lover is never depicted with legs, which is wild

However, it’s still possible this is a chimera rather than a lamia or naga, which is a level 4 problem… which is when the Canaries usually come dungeon busting anyway)

Of course, the Winged Lion was boxed for the entire span of the dungeon’s rapid development and the Goat wasn’t, which might account for a difference in speed… if Thistle’s dungeon grew much slower

Mithrun, with a fully active demon, didn’t hit the same goal in damn near the same timeframe, so we can infer:

- approximately a 5-6 year turnover on dungeons coming from level 2 to level 4-5 (sooooo that’s a lotta dungeon lords, especially if a change of lord usually forces a reset - Marcille and Laios sure didn’t tho)

- the demon is all one entity, so the cumulative effect from other dungeons around the world may have been used to strengthen the Island’s dungeon

- sinking the continent around your dungeon is a damn good way to keep it contained

- Mithrun was a mid-tier dungeon lord at best, “I wish I never took this job” is a weak ass desire especially when compared to Thistle and Marcille’s desires to Defeat Death and probably why he got spit out - his desire to fuck the demon up seems to be a lot more powerful than a moment of weakness in front of a mirror

(The demon even said it didn’t want to finish Thistle right away and save some for later; it ate the last scrap by accident because it was too dang good so we do know it can choose to leave someone behind… for A Reason:)

- the demon fucking angler-fished Mithrun’s ass by spitting him out, leaving behind only the desire to come back and find the demon again, and letting that build for 40 years. He didn’t reach Thistle levels of maturation but oh boy that’s an intentionally cultivated snack - so how many more of the dungeon lords in the group meeting had the same path

#delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #delicious in dungeon spoilers #the winged lion #thistle dungeon meshi #mithrun #mithrun dungeon meshi #i hope senshi made delgal soup on his way up

[misrepresentedmorallygrey]

PROPAGANDA

Rose Quartz Propaganda

"We saw her character arc in reverse!! We first saw all the good she did and then learned of her terrible actions in the past. If her story was told the other way around, it would have been a great redemption arc. Yes, she did some terrible things, but she had no choice. She did everything she could to stop the colonization of earth peacefully buy nothing worked. Blue and yellow diamond just didn't listen to her and when they did, THEY were the ones who made the zoo and shit. Rose wanted to free them but couldn't get to them after the war! And with the corruption, there's no way she could have known that'd happen. There's so many things she wanted to do but just couldn't. And with spinel, yes it was shitty to leave her alone for so long, but again, between running her court, running the rebellion, dealing with earth, she likely wasn't a very high priority and like with the zoo, there was no way to get to her after the war since the galaxy warp was destroyed. And don't forget, she was practically a child around this time. You're saying you didn't do any stupid, selfish, or harmful things as a kid? She learned from her experiences and grew, we just saw that growth in reverse, leaving us as viewers with a poor perception of her."

"Rose Quartz is Steven Universe’s dead mom. Initially, she’s set up as sort of an ethereal perfect figure who everyone misses and compares him to. Later we get to see more of her backstory and discover that she’s actually like, a person, with flaws, who has done some bad things, but she did those bad things largely in the course of trying to escape an abusive home life and save the people and planet that she fell in love with. It’s very clear that despite her flaws she was trying to do the right thing and that she deeply cared about others. Unfortunately, a woman who was not a Perfect Martyr was way too much for the Steven Universe fandom to handle. She pretty much set off the wave of SU crit blogs because these people were furious either that she had taken violent measures to solve her problems, that she hadn’t taken violent enough measures to solve her problems, or both somehow. Lots of “Why didn’t she just murder her abusive parental figures?” Lots of “She was evil for having a baby even though she knew she’d die in childbirth!” Lots of “She should’ve been able to protect everyone from a magic nuclear weapon with the power of love somehow.” Lots of “She shouldn’t have rebelled (even though not rebelling would’ve meant the destruction of Earth) because her abusers retaliated and that’s her fault.” LOTS of people drawing her as stick thin even though she was fat in the show. People treated her like she was on the same level or even worse than her abusive parental figures who were also the main villains of the show. It was unbearable to witness."

Mahiru Propaganda

"They got unfairly voted guilty in the first round and keeps getting blamed She never meant to hurt anyone and the only reason she did was cause she couldn’t read social ques"

"Mahiru Shiina is the most traditionally feminine character in Milgram, and she’s very in love with the idea of love. That makes her an easy fandom target. In Milgram, we are introduced to ten murderers. It quickly becomes apparent that not all of these murders are conventional. By the time we are introduced to Mahiru, we already know most of these unconventional murderers. Mahiru’s first music video depicts her going on various dates with her boyfriend, even though he is not shown in the frame. At the end of the video, Mahiru wakes up, turns to the camera, and has a horrified expression. Whatever happened, she didn’t want it to happen. And then a lot of the fandom accused her of being a stalker. Was that what got her a 55% guilty/unforgiven vote? I don’t know. I wasn’t there. But she heard what the fandom said. She heard these voices saying she couldn’t be forgiven. Saying that she was a stalker or that she didn’t really love her boyfriend, even though that wasn’t true. She was beaten to near-death by Kotoko, a vigilante who was forgiven by 67%. Fuuta, who also sustained serious injuries from Kotoko, calls out the audience surrogate, saying what we did with our verdicts would have made us the same as him if Mahiru had died. And yet Mahiru doesn’t blame either us or Kotoko. Mahiru’s second music video shows that she was indeed in a proper relationship with her boyfriend. She smothered him with her love. The video slowly revealed the toxicity in their relationship. She asked why she can’t do anything right. The fandom perception was better in that she was safely voted innocent/forgiven. Still, there are issues. Some infantilize her or say that she’s delusional. Yes, she had a sheltered upbringing and has difficulties reading social cues, but that doesn’t take away her agency. On the flip side, some have theorized that she kidnapped her boyfriend and wasn’t in a proper relationship with him. (Not sure what to say about that, but this is a series about sympathetic murderers.)"

#semi finals #females fucked over tournament #steven universe #milgram #rose quartz #mahiru shiina

[king-magppi]

Yellow Guy's Age

DHMIS Fandom, we need to talk about the infantilization of Yellow Guy. It's Papyrus from Undertale all over again😭😭 seriously. Anyways, I'm tired of seeing a GROWN MAN get depicted as a child by this fandom (I'm not talking about AUs or whatever, I'm talking about in casual fanart and the like). There is plenty of evidence from the show to support that Yellow Guy is, in fact, an adult, and I will list some out for you here:

In episode 1 (Jobs), Yellow Guy falls in love and marries Claire (the wrench person) in the span of the 40 years of working for Peterson's and Son's and Friends Bits and Parts Limited! This would be weird if Yellow Guy had met her as a child and grew up to marry her, wouldn't it? "But all that never even happened!" Yes, it did, because if we're using that logic, nothing from ANY of the other episodes happened because they always end up right back at home with no memory of the day prior regardless! Stay with me here!

In episode 3 (Family), Yellow Guy is seen as old enough by Todney and Lily to be forced into the role of the "Mother" and successfully order the Grolton's Chicken family tub. When the three get home, they proceed to try and open the packet of Chuddle Dollops again. During this scene, Red Guy refers to Yellow Guy as his "brother" rather than a son or any other family member.

In episode 4 (Friendship), it is revealed that Yellow Guy has a maiden name (it's "Rat Eyes" apparently), implying he has been married and/or divorced! Also, this next point might be a stretch which is why it isn't the main one for this bullet, but the first thing Yellow Guy wants to do when they finally get on the computer is "Do Gambling".

In episode 6 (Electricity), Lesley refers to Yellow as "NOT their real son". If they DO in fact happen to be his creator/parental figure, and Roy is his father, then that makes it very well possible that Yellow is at VERY LEAST in his late 20s-30s if Lesley is between 60-70 (the actress that plays Lesley, Vivienne Soan, is 67 years old, so it's safe to assume her character is supposed to be presented as around that age range). Another bit that might be a stretch is that after getting fresh batteries, Yellow Guy is able to do taxes, and even speaks more clearly and "mature" sounding.

Yellow is never referred to as a child by the others and is treated as an equal by all members of the household. They constantly pick on each other and even get in a fistfight at the end of episode 4.

Yellow Guy's voice is deep and does not SOUND like one of a child. If he were supposed to be one, wouldn't they give him a more "childish" voice?

And now I will debunk a few arguments I've seen used against people claiming Yellow Guy being an adult:

"But he dresses in overalls!"

Roy wears overalls too. Does this make him a child? Anyone can wear overalls.

"He's child sized! He MUST be a child!"

Actually, Duck/Green is the smallest one, and they're all puppets. They're gonna be pretty small compared to Red Guy. Also, height =/= age. Remember when the smallest in the house in the Family episode was revealed to be the father? Also, if we're going by height, why isn't Duck considered a child too then?

"He's too stupid/doesn't act like an adult."

We see in episode 6 that the reason he acts the way he does is because his batteries are dying. Also "stupidity" =/= age. Half the time Red Guy and Duck are just as dumb (if not more) than Yellow Guy in their actions So I really don't get why people use this one as an argument. It also feels a bit ableist to consider "not smart" people as children.

Wow. All of this even when I've fully disregarded the Pilot episode (I did this because some of you may consider it "not canon" because it was scrapped) and the webseries. I can't believe I even had to make this post, but it had to be done or else I'd lose my head! Thanks for reading if you made it this far!

#magppi meeps #dhmis #dont hug me im scared #dhmis yellow guy #dhmis manny #dhmis doi #what else do yall call him even #fluffybird #<< to get people to actually see this

[bunny584]

What do you think about Gojo after him stereotyping Miguel for being black? He did apologize though. I don't even know why Gege needs to add that. We all know he hates Gojo but he's taking it far.

*Pulls hair up into ponytail.*

*slides on reading glasses*

*taps mic*

Okay, anon my love. Let’s talk about it.

I think Gege, tried to make a salient point that was poorly executed. I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that Satoru highlights a lot of things Gege probably dislikes - abundance of wealth, sheltered upbringing, entitlement, limitless strength on top of being insanely good looking. It’s almost too much, yes?

Throughout Satoru’s depiction, Gege tries to insinuate that the honored one actually isn’t perfect.

Sending Yuji out on a mission too above his grade at the time, miscalculating steps in Shibuya, etc. It’s an attempt to humanize a celestial character. Probably why he also tries to compare everyone’s strength/natural talent to Satoru (meanwhile the audience is like…be so fucking forreal right now).

And then here comes the race issue. A sheltered boy who grew up in a clan where he walked on water met a foreign man who disrupted his Godlike technique. Can you imagine how shocking that was?

Satoru was going to grasp at straws to figure it out. He’s different. Is it because he’s naturally stronger? Naturally more muscular? Something about his genetics must make him this way…right?

Now, you and I both know that’s false. Incorrect thinking. Phenotypic differences are gorgeous. And we should see and acknowledge them. But the problem is when you start stripping away someone’s humanity because of said differences (I.e. Satoru saying he’s strong because he’s Black).

Miguel course corrected him quickly. And Satoru accepted it. And that’s how growth happens. All of this is perfectly okay and beautiful and part of learning.

But Gege lost credibility with his readers a long time ago with his antics so this was NOT the right time to try and make such a point.

I said all that to say, I don’t think Satoru is racist. And it would have been nice to flesh out his growth in that way a teensy bit more.

Thank you for coming to this little fireside chat, we should do it again sometime baby 🩷

#bunnyblabs

[ckret2]

Does bill have "a type"? Since you said he only dates every millennium, what kinds of stuff would catch this lunatic's eye? What would motivate him?

You're getting a read more because I listed every single blessed thing I could think of. The tl;dr:

artists (who depict him)

hot eyeballs (subjective)

no head

bright natural coloration

emotional doormats

party animals

nerds, provided they're also attractive other ways

worshipers

things that can injure him

getting gifts

someone who expresses interest first but lets him take the lead

really tacky expensive displays of wasting wealth

someone he thinks is similar enough to "understand" him

This is the first point because it's the answer he'd give: if you ASK him, he'll say he's "a complete sucker for those deep, brooding artist types." He'll say this like it's his biggest weakness. He says it like it's a charming little character flaw. This is the narrative he tells himself. What he ACTUALLY means is if you hit on him, and if you have created art of him (visual art, sculpture, music, poetry), the odds that he'll return the interest go up by 1000%. He is incredibly vain, he loves art of himself, and "willing to give Bill art of himself" is an insanely attractive trait.

Some species have sexy eyeballs. Other species don't. It just so happens that Earth, as a whole, has evolved an array of eyeballs that are by and large pretty sexy when compared to the multiversal baseline. Those little, like, thready filament things in the irises? Mesmerizing. Visible veins?? Drive him crazy. Bloodshot eyes? Gonna be haunting his fantasies for weeks. Top tier is those frog eyes with multiple colors or crazy crackly-looking patterns.

He's not a fan of heads. Like, when a species puts a face on a little bobbly looking thing separated from the rest of the body, rather than right on the torso where it belongs? Looks weird. It's not a dealbreaker but he's definitely more attracted to species that put their faces where they belong. Similarly, a mouth without an eye in it looks weird.

Big fan of bright colors. You know what's attractive? Looking like Lisa Frank colored you. Wearing bright colors isn't as good as being bright colors, but he still finds wearing bright colors to be an attractive trait.

If you combine the last three points, I think that I accidentally made Bill's ideal lover a poison dart frog.

Usually at some point pretty early in the dating process he's gonna say something like "Just so you know—really, I'm not as bad as all the rumors and gossip and ancient legends and globally-broadcasted warning PSAs make me sound. But: I am totally crazy. You wanna stick with me, you've gotta be cool with crazy." What he's looking for is someone who says "oh I am SO cool with crazy, I am the MOST cool with crazy, crazy is GREAT." When he says this, he's not saying "I'm actually mentally ill and need someone who's supportive and understanding." He's also not saying "I'm a wild crazy fun party guy and I want a partner who can keep up with that lifestyle." What he's saying is "I am an inconsistent and inconsiderate asshole who will show no regard for you, and in a year when you're complaining about the selfish harmful things I'm doing, I'll get to roll my eye and go 'I THOUGHT you SAID you were COOL with crazy. Are you NOT cool with crazy??' And then I'll complain about you to my friends." So: he'll focus on naive emotional doormats he can push around. He'll probably draw back from someone who stands up to him, unless he got seriously interested in them before they grew a spine.

But that said, he is also more likely to show interest in people who can keep up with his lifestyle. He parties with apocalypse machines. If he sees an alien at a party where three absolutely wasted demigods started mixing sink chemicals and accidentally set off a big bang that took out half the neighborhood, and the next weekend he sees that alien at another party? That means they party hard, they don't scare easy, they don't die easy, and they avoided the cops. That's somebody he wants to spend time with. If they're not lover material, they might be Henchmaniac material. Similar opinions on substance use and mass destruction a plus.

He's kinda into nerds. Not in and of themselves, but if they already hit other traits he likes, that's a plus. If he has a choice between two identical people and one's dumb as a rock, he prefers the one who knows lots of things and likes to share facts and trivia. Bill goes for long, long stretches without feeling curiosity, and those stretches typically coincide with when he feels most depressed; someone who can drive him to think a little bit is a godsend.

If someone literally worships him, like as a god, he's into that. It's not partner material but he'll put a star next to their name in his booty call list.

Any novel Extreme Sensations, he likes. Particularly pain. Not a lot of stuff can hurt him in his true form. If someone can make him feel pain, that's interesting to him. Not even necessarily in a BDSM way. If holding someone's hand feels like being electrocuted, or they give off a gas that makes everything too loud and makes him see weird colors? That's someone he wants to touch.

I think I've just added another trait to the "poison dart frog" column.

His love language is gifts & favors, both giving and receiving. If somebody gives him a gift, he'll remember them positively. Even if it's a kinda lame gift. It makes him feel liked. Roses & chocolates would work on him.

He's not liable to be the first to express interest, because he finds being rejected utterly devastating. On the other hand, he prefers to take the lead/call the shots in a relationship. So if somebody lets it be known that they're interested in him, but then hangs back to allow him to make the first move? Appealing.

He's a sucker for gold and tacky displays of wealth. Like he's sort of disgusted by wealthy people, but he's very into wealth. If you're rich have fun with it. If you're not ordering a $900 sundae coated with gold leaf just because you can then what's the POINT. Also, Bill is tacky. If some multidimensional billionaire decides to show an interest in him by gifting him an extremely ugly diamond-covered top hat, he'd probably let them do things to him that he wouldn't even confess to his doctor. (He doesn't have a doctor but.) I think what this boils down to is that he's only into rich people who are living like they want to go broke as soon as possible.

He goes through most of his existence feeling like Nobody Understands Him. Part of this is because he's bad at communicating his sincere feelings & emotional needs and even worse at relating to or caring about other people; but part of it is just because there's not a whole lot of people who can directly relate to "my ambition drove me to destroy my entire universe and ever since then I've been grappling with the paralyzing guilt while struggling to find a new universe." So when he DOES meet somebody who he believes can really, truly understand him the way most people can't? He emotionally latches onto them HARD. Not necessarily romantically, but it easily could be. This is last on the list but probably the most important point to getting a genuine emotional connection rather than fleeting physical attraction from him.

Example that hits multiple of the above points: one of his longest & most emotionally meaningful relationships was with a sentient black hole who—quite literally—destroys anyone who gets too close to her, and is constantly wracked with chronic pain due to being a fucking black hole. She did poetry at open mic nights. She'd go up to a mic and say something like "this poem is called The Taste Of Unwillingly Consuming The Solar System You Called Your Home" and then scream into the microphone for five minutes without pause. Bill was like "she's the only one in the multiverse who Gets It." He is a sucker for brooding artists. She let him get away with unspeakable things because he's one of the only entities powerful enough to get physically close to her and survive. Which was incredibly painful, but hey, he was into that too.

Maybe they'd still be together if she looked like a frog.

#(and it's more like once every million years. but that's ON AVERAGE not a schedule) #(like he might have three partners in a millennium but then a billion year dry spell) #anonymous #ask #about my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

[insuke69]

What's in a name? P3

✰⁂ Hobie brown × Rich!Osborn!reader

Part I, Part II, Part III

3/3

Synopsis: Osborn is almost a disgusting name because of the messed up things it has and the dirty money that holds it up by threads. And here is the child that sneaks out one night and meets a punk that goes directly against her father.

✩Warnings: cussing, Some angst, 'crybaby' reader, depictions of smut, ‘tantrum’

Rated 13+(??)

✰6.5k words.

⚥Afab/fem reader

____________________

The last month has been.. Blissful.

Relaxing and calm for you, Hobie making you feel things you’ve never experienced with his tongue, hands, and words.

Something about him as the punk he is almost leveled out your expensive life, humble houseboat compared to your marble mansion. Some nights were spent planning, some were small date-like hangouts, some were spent with his lips locked in yours and his tongue teaching you how kissing should feel.

But you didn’t realize how little he mentioned or even acknowledged (y/n) in your presence. You didn’t know if he was fully alright with everything that went down between you two though. He would stop wearing his spiderpunk mask around you and you’d stop wearing your balaclava which probably- or hopefully meant he still trusted you.

You even started taking more money from your dad and buying even more things to donate with less fear of being caught, you and Hobie would go to large corporations disguised as a cute couple that definitely wouldn’t pocket a particularly enticing trinket.

You kind of feel like robin hood, but instead of stealing actual gold and riches, you spend what's given to you for different purposes, one step at a time. Hobie has shown you the differences between real and fake silver, obviously you know how to tell in your jewelry by seeing its shine, but now he’s explained the more simpler ways and reasonable prices for normal people since way back then you never had to look at the multiple thousands on a cute bracelet.

Your shoebox of polaroid pictures grew and so did your relationship with Hobie. You began learning about your own pleasure along with learning of his, what movements you can do with your tongue or hips that makes him whimper beautifully throughout the bedroom of his small houseboat.

And Hobie hasn’t hesitated with taking his pictures and tucking them into the waistband of your panties for ‘memorabilia’, So now that shoebox consisted of pictures of you and him spray painting, your masked smile posing beside another one of your fathers now vandalized buildings, and some of Hobie’s favorites.

Ones where he’s bottomed out, hips against your plush ass and his hand holding your hair in a make-shift ponytail, the other taking the picture. Another one where you’re looking up at him with your eyes doe and tongue out, his seed stained on your lips and chin. The list goes on and on about the lewd adventures you and Hobie have done. Each picture is more intimate than the last.

___________

The knock on the door makes your chest tense, immediately shoving the pictures and shoebox under your bed and leaning your hips against the mattress, looking over at the door.

Roxanne opens it and comes in with a clipboard in hand, head dipped downwards as she began rambling about another event your father is planning to host in your mansion.

“Alright so, security will be tighter but your father will be making a party to celebrate the new opening of a bank, so you’ll be wearing a mostly green dress and most of the house will be open to guests. Unlikely anyone will come to your room but the housemaid will be sure to clean everything top to bottom, left to right.”

You were practically tuning her out since she often covered this information for every event, the same information.

For every event.

The only difference was that this was going to be held at your house for the first time since your mothers funeral. It was weird but you remembered the procedures: Big guard watching your every move, random people whose gross hands you have to shake, rinse and repeat.

“So when is this thing gonna be?” You ask Roxy with a tilt of your head and sitting on the edge of your bed as she remained in her spot where she stood.

“Soon, around the twenty-second.” She answered without her gaze moving from her clipboard, her pen tapping it in a senseless rhythm which expressed her deep thoughts on the subject, Likely thinking about some things more important than your petty dress or makeup.

“That will be all. Your father will give you his black card so you could buy a dress of your liking. Special event means that-”

“I can’t risk re-wearing something I’ve worn before, yeah yeah.” You cut her off with an eye roll, knowing what she was gonna say.

Roxy raised her eyebrows at this attitude but shrugged it off, “Precisely, you’ll be sent out around the afternoon, let's say at around two-thirty.” And with that, Roxanne nodded and walked right out, leaving the door open on her way out.

You stand from your bed and shut the door, pulling out your phone to text Hobie once the click of the knob confirmed its closed position.

“Im going out later with Normans money” It felt weird to refer to your dad by his first name, but referring to him as your dad didn’t feel right either, and calling him ‘Osborn’ had too much association with you.

“K” Hobie messaged back, “what time”

“I’ll actually have to buy something. A pretty dress so do you wanna tag along for that too?” You smiled to yourself, knowing Hobie wouldn’t really want to be in a fancy dress shop and have to judge each and every dress that's even a shade of green-

“Why not”

You can feel the shrug from past the screen, his usual gesture whenever he says something like ‘why not’. And before you knew it, by the time you ran off from your secret service-like bodyguards, you spotted Hobie.

Not spiderpunk- You spotted the handsome man beneath, face covered in piercings and hair being as lawless as his other punk persona. He grins down at you and offers you his arm and with a mocking tone, says “Alrigh’ M’lady, Where we goin’ first?”

“What are you playing at, Hobie?” You ask as your head shook and your arm intertwined with his, walking down the street towards your usual dress shop you’ve gone to since you were thirteen. No other place was ‘trustworthy’ as your father put it, and you’ve never liked the hassle of exact measurements.

“Whatever could you mean, Ms Osborn?” He grinned, looking around the streets at the peoples heads turning because of some random punk star with the daughter of the richest and most powerful man in the city.

You two were in the main street where more expensive shops were, you had your dads credit card so you couldn’t spend it in the smaller businesses Hobie had shown you in his part of town because they would show up in the statements, or because they didn’t even take card. Hobie felt like a fish out of water when he was walking down these sidewalks with smooth brick tiles instead of cracked pavement for once.

“You know damn well.” You scoffed in response, “Do you seriously want to do dress shopping with me instead of.. Emily?” Your voice lowers as you mentioned your masked persona which makes Hobie chuckle and shake his head.

“Well, I wouldn’t be able to spend time with either. Plus, It doesn’ matter now, Wha’ dresses are we gettin’ you now, princess?” He teased in a lower voice with a stupid smirk as the arm that was intertwined with yours slid to your waist. You could feel your face heat up but you keep your head up and continue walking with him beside you, him walking on the part of the sidewalk closest to the road.

“Fucking hell, just.. Okay so the plan is that I’ll try on dresses and you’ll boost my ego in every one and you’ll tell me which one is the best look for me.” You told him, trying to brush off how he called you princess, how you can swear he knows what he’s doing.

He raised his eyebrows then his hands in a faux surrender gesture, “Yes ma'am.” His voice is smug and it’s as if he’s coming along to humor you.

Your eyes roll and you shake your head, walking beside him with his arm intertwined with yours in a playfully chivalrous manner, as if he wasn’t already polar opposites with you. You seem like an elegant quartz and he was a stone pulled out of a vandalized building. Your height differences making you either unfortnately shorter or him somehow taller.

“Here’s the place, just-” You began, almost getting to the dress parlor but Hobie soon pulled you into an alley right beside the building and kissed you, which made you squeak and your hands moving to his chest.

“What the fuck?!” You asked as you looked up at him and he just smugly grinned and looked down at you, his hands on your waist as you continued, “Anyone could have seen. I would be fucked if anyone saw that, neither of us have a mask and unlike you, if my reputation gets a single mark, that would get my dads attention and-”

He rolled his eyes and kissed you again, as if to stop your worries. “It’s fine, tell me: Do you ever look into alleyways when you’re shopping?” He asks rhetorically to get his point across, most people like you wouldn’t care for smaller details and excuse the alleyways whilst on their errands

“.. What if someone decided to look? We’d be screwed.” You retort, shaking your head, which made Hobie shake his head back with a chuckle.

“You’re paranoid.” He scoffed as he took your hand and brought you back out to the sidewalk and towards the shop you had mentioned.

Hobie brown will be the death of you, but spiderpunk always made you feel alive.

_________

You got the dress and Hobie let you go on your merry way before you got picked up so that you dad’s men wouldn’t see you with anyone.

The event had arrived and like you assumed, random rich womanizers with their trophy wives and laughing as if they owned the world. Well, they practically do, But there's one specific couple that makes you seeth.

Your father has always been family oriented so now that an event is at your house, your uncle and aunt will be coming over to be more heads to count at the party. There's nothing wrong with your uncle Wilson or aunt Doris on paper but it’s the kid they have that makes your blood boil.

The kid is named Elizabeth as if she were a respectable person, but she was barely a freshman in highschool who has as much as you did financially, except she wasn’t homeschooled like you were and her ego was as big as the numbers in her parents bank account. She never grew out of her brat phase and she’s more spoiled than you because if she sees someone with something she wants she asks for it tenfold.

“Oh my god! Where did you get those earrings?” She grinned as she ignored your concept of personal space and reached out to grab the shiny jewelry that hung from your ear.

You pull away from her and awkwardly smile once you avoid her touch, “Your Aunt Emily gave them to me.” You answered with almost exaggerated politeness, referring to your own mother as her aunt because there’s no way she’d remember her as your mom.

“Oh yeah! She’s dead right?” She frowned, “She can’t get me anything like that? Where did she get them? Do you know?” Her tone was laced with disappointment.

You almost froze at her words. You never minded much about who spoke about your mom but the way she said it as if she were simply talking about a show that was canceled.

“..Yeah, Last time we saw each other it was literally her memorial ceremony.” You mumbled with slight snark to which your aunt chimed in a half apology before ushering your cousin away.

“But Mom! Why does she get cool things? I wish I were homeschooled and that my daddy was the president! It’s not fair!” She whined dramatically as she threw her arms around, as if throwing a mini tantrum for her mother.

And you think that's the only time anyone has been understanding of your situation, because your aunt swatted her on the back of her head and began telling her to calm down, and that homeschooling would take away her reputation as the popular girl at school which shut Elizabeth right up.

They fade into the crowd and you stand aside, eating an appetizer of a snack before suddenly a large suited man recognized as your bodyguard approaches you and quietly says into your ear, “Have you allowed Ms. Elizabeth into your bedroom?”

When he says this you decide to play it cool and softly shake your head, placing your hand on his shoulder once he begins walking back towards the hall of your room then stopping him. Walking to your room instead, and once you were out of sight from the party, you bolted up the stairs towards the creaked open bedroom door.

You shove open the door and feel your heart drop, you knew your cousin was snooping around your room but what need did she have to look under the bed?

And in your goddamn shoebox.

“What the hell are you doing?” You yelled as you went over to her and snatched the pictures out of her hands, which she sarcastically surrendered with a dramatic gesture of her hands.

“What are you doing? Actually, who are you doing?” Elizabeth grinned as she held out another picture where it was you on top of Hobie, a loose shirt adorning your torso which luckily hid where he disappeared inside of you.

“Shut up! You’re just- you aren’t even supposed to be in here!” You snatched the picture and quickly shoved it into the shoebox, then the box under your bed.

“I was looking for any extra earrings you could give me, not like you have anyone to look good for other than that rando.” She commented with childish snark as she vaguely gestured in the direction of the intimate box and images. “I didn’t realize you had a little boy toy you’ve kept hidden, Does my uncle know?”

Your eyebrows furrow as she asks if your dad knows about him, About Hobie. You keep your mouth shut and glance away as you struggle to hold in your genuine frustration at how this is how you ended up caught.

“.. Still doesn’t explain why you’re looking under my bed for some earrings.” You change the subject off of Hobie and back to how she’s in the wrong for snooping around your bedroom in the first place.

“You still haven’t told me who this guy is! I’m guessing he’s just some booty call, not even a boyfriend to you?” Ellie said with a smirk, but more in a condescending way as if she were better than you for having some kind of relationship that wasn’t based on sex.

“He isn’t just ‘some booty call’-” You began before the teenager continued, looking over another picture.

“He’s hot though, but too many piercings. Does he have a piercing on his tongue? Can’t see your face well on this one but wow, big hands-” She teased which made you snatch the next polaroid from her hand and your cheeks flush red at what that one was this time.

It showed Hobie’s unruly hair between your thighs, which were being held tightly by his ringed hands to keep them open, his eyes straight up into the camera where you took a picture of him feasting on your core. You’re so grateful she was on the more basic side of popularity where she didn’t know punk stars, Hobie seemed like some random emo to her. Luckily.

You could see on her expression that she had a request and something to say, so you gestured your hand ironically, “Go ahead, take your time. Go ahead.” You prompted sarcastically.

“So, It would suck if your dad found out about this.” Her head tilts, “So, Just give me your earrings. Unless you want your dad finding out you have some other ‘daddy’?”

You cringe at how she referred to Hobie as your other daddy, but your stomach soon drops as you realize that she’s blackmailing you just for a pair of your moms earrings.

Dead Moms Earrings.

“You sadistic bitch!” You cursed as you got closer, about to give her a well deserved slap for her stupid actions, wanting to humble her like she deserved before she stopped you and stepped back.

“Hurt me and I’ll go announce it to the event! Imagine the headlines, ‘Norman Osborn’s daughter caught with a random guy!’, your reputation.” she said with a sarcastic gesture of her hands as she walked towards your door.

“Reputation? Fucking- fine.” You yanked her sleeve to keep her from walking out, soon moving your hands to your ears in order to take off your earrings, “I want you to just.. Take care of the earrings. Please.” You mumbled before passing her the pair of jewelry.

“Whatever.” she shrugged as she looked at the shine of the gold then shoved them in her pocket, “Thank you cousin dearest.” She playfully mocked before walking out of your room, leaving you with your own thoughts and leaving the door open.

You nearly slam the door shut then lean on it with your back, eyes quickly filling with angry tears and hands moving to grip your hair in frustration. At how easily you were manipulated, at how your cousin obviously thought little of you, how she called Hobie a random booty-call.. Familiar feelings erupted in a choked sob from your throat.

Guilt.

Rage.

Frustration.

Your fist tightened and was about to be tossed back to punch any surface you could to relieve what you could but soon you heard a twhip and a sticky white rope soon surrounded your hand and kept it from going anywhere or doing anything.

You sigh once you realize what caused it, and soon that reason walks- or drops in through your window, pulling off his Spiderpunk mask and heading over to you.

“You alrigh’?” Hobie said softly as he got the web off of you and kneeled beside you, his hand on your shoulder.

Hobie knows that when you cry it's never for no reason, He has learned about your sensitive habits but he has never seen you like this. Tearing up with anger he had only seen the night you two argued, and the second you choked another sob and your arms wrapped around him he quickly hugged you back.

You felt safe in his lanky arms, comforted and as if he could shield you from dangers or people that couldn’t ever treat you as a person. He couldn’t ever be just a booty-call because he's the only feeling of ‘home’ you’ve had since before Osborn industries became a bigger thing.

After you didn’t answer his question as if you were alright, Hobie simply held you close and cradled you like how you deserved.

Once your breathing calmed and relaxed, you soon moved your hands to cradle his face and he quickly met your gaze with his, “Was this jus’ an excuse to hug me?” Hobie joked with a chuckle to lighten your mood, soon being met with a swat to the shoulder.

“..My cousin blackmailed me into giving her some earrings, but they used to be my moms.. And she didn’t care.” You explained softly to summarize, pulling back and running a hand through your hair.

“Blackmailed? That’s.. That’s dumb, what was she using against you?” Hobie asked as he rested his hands on your waist and looked down at you.

“Your pictures.” You scoffed as your hands lowered to his chest, nodding your head towards the shoebox where the picture of Hobie with his head between your legs was faced up. You saw Hobie’s smirk adorn his lips as he looked at the polaroid and bit his lip, making you roll your eyes and softly hit his chest.

“What! What do you mean by my pictures? As far as I’m concerned, all of that was a team effort.” He cooed as his hands lowered to your hips and he pulled you closer where your body flushed against his.

Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, “You realize that I’m fucked?” You half joke, “She found our pictures, and if she blabs to anyone around here, That will spread like wildfire.”

“Yeah yeah, what if you just stopped worrying? What if I had a solution?” Hobie teased before giving you a peck on the lips.

“Hm?” You question as you kissed him back, “Well, I’ve been fixing my houseboat.. And what if we could sail away together?” Hobie responded smugly.

Your eyebrows raise and you chuckle as if he were joking but his smile remains the same and his eyes gazing into yours. “Seriously? No- I don’t.. I can’t.” you retort with an awkward chuckle, “I don’t have any money without my dad, I wouldn’t be able to contribute.”

“Don’t worry about that, We could run off- spiderpunk can protect another place and you wouldn’t be the daughter of a monster.” He said before kissing you again before you argue and respond. “Think ‘bout it.”

“Hmm.. No.”

As tempting as it was, Seriously tempting, The idea of being able to go away and get out. Be your own person and finally be independent, you couldn’t bear the idea of your dad being heartbroken that you’re gone. He’s a horrible person, a horrible man, But he’s still your father.

And a damn good one.

What he’s done is unforgivable but he always was able to put food on the table for you and never once missed the chance to tell you he loves you. When your mother died it was you and him against the world, even if he was what mostly made up the issues of said world.

Hobie’s expression was like a mixture of confusion and disappointment which makes you sigh and explain yourself with your hands soothing onto his shoulders, “Sorry, It’s just that.. I can’t leave him. He’d be alone without me, and he was already broken when his wife died and no way I’m making him go through everything and worse.”

Hobie smiled at how thoughtful you were, almost too much for your own good.

“Alrigh’, I won’t be able to live with myself if I force you to come with me anyway.” Hobie chuckled before kissing you again, with a softer peck with his lips against yours for a moment.

“Well, okay. I feel like any moment now some random lady’ll knock on your door. You go’a get back to being a princess.” Hobie teased before pulling away from you, soon heading back to the window from which he came in.

“Awh, how will I survive without my knight in shining armor?” You said sarcastically as you followed him, and with a grin he brought you close and kissed your forehead, “You’ll manage.”

And with that, he flopped out and a web shot to a nearby building where he swung.

You watch his figure disappear into the distance and sigh to yourself, taking a breath to mentally prepare yourself and going to your vanity to reapply your makeup that smudged in your earlier ‘tantrum’ as Hobie would tease.

______________

The night breezes by as you stay aside, and thank god it speeds on by as the guests fade away and thankfully all those who are left are your uncle and aunt, and their hellspawn.

Thinking they were in any other place, you go to the kitchen for a snack.

And there was your thirteenth reason.

The hellspawn of satan and the embodiment of one of the seven sins was in your kitchen, sitting on the counter munching on your chips, On your chips you specifically have been saving for a time like this when you were craving them specifically.

She looked over at you before munching loudly on the savory snack, making your blood boil as she seemed to not care she’s eating the snacks you’ve specifically had stored in another part of the kitchen. Clearly implying that they weren’t up for taking.

But before you speak, you notice her wearing the earrings you gave her, her mom obviously knew you didn’t want to give them to her in the first place so how could she just shamelessly wear them?

“Oh, I’m a woman of honor so I won’t need these anymore, they’re heavy and they’re just not my style.” You cousin said as she pushed herself off the counter, with her dusty fingers she removed the earrings and passed them to you, leaving the silver greasy and you’re right about to slap her into the next century until your aunt and uncle walk into the kitchen seeming tense.

Your dad follows behind them, seeming tense as well but his discomfort is much more easily hidden than your aunts.

“We’re going now, say bye to your cousin.” Your aunt said curtly, her hand on Elizabeth's shoulder as your uncle straight up walked out without glancing at you.

“Bye! Good luck.” Your little cousin cooed before leaving with her mom giving you a disappointed glance, then following suit.

“..Dad? What's all that about?” You ask with an awkward laugh that came out more as a nervous outward breath, to which he looked at you and in your hands at the earrings.

“Get those cleaned up from that grease, they were your mothers. At least Elizabeth practically refunded you.” Your dad chuckled dryly before walking past you to the stairs.

Refunded?

Shit.

You place the earrings on the kitchen counter and follow behind him, his objective clearly being to go into your room.

“Wait! Wait- wait, dad, what are you doing? Remember privacy..! Our rule being I can’t go in your room and you can’t go into mine?” You stumbled on your words as you watched him open your door like a man on a mission, You distinctly remember that when you turned around twelve years old and was learning more about what Osborn Industries do, your dad has done his best to make sure you had little to no part in his business, which meant no more ‘office visits’.

He hadn’t been in your room since you took down your My Little Pony posters and stopped using jewelry boxes with music and rotating ballerinas in them.

He abruptly stood next to your door and gestured for you to go in first. His silent order was enough to shut you up and walk in, your father stepping into your room behind you.

“Anything you want to show me?” Norman asked with a tilt of his head, looking at you in a way you don’t think you’ve ever seen happen in your life. You were always a ‘good kid’, meaning you weren’t always caught.

With your answer: Silence, Norman looked away and took a breath with his tongue in his cheek and his hands on his hips. “Take it out.” He ordered, and before you even tried to act dumb in your answer, he repeated himself with a louder tone and pointed towards your bed.

Digging your own grave, you nod and do as he said, going to your bed and taking out the shoebox, placing it at the edge and sitting beside it.

Your dad came closer and sat on the edge of the bed with the box between you two, “So, Do you want to tell me what's in here?” His hand rests on the top of the shoebox and your hands clench into the lace of your dress.

Your dad never was the kind to ask anything unless he already knew, so you really were practically six feet under. If you say no, he’ll make you open the box. If you confess, you have no idea if anything worse will happen.

“..Pictures..” you murmured,

“Pictures of what?”

“Of me and someone.”

At your vague answer, his hand suddenly moved to the side of the shoebox and he pushed it off the bed, the cover falling off and the photos spilling out. He doesn’t look at the pictures at all and instead looks at the wall in the opposite direction away from them.

“Grab a picture where I see who it is.. Try to find nothing inappropriate.” Norman continued, seeming to wait patiently for you to do as he says. Now you feel like you’re being questioned to the point your teeth or fingers are at risk.

You look at the fallen pictures and back at Norman to make sure he's faced away, and look through them, looking for the least incriminating one of Hobie. Tears of dread and humiliation pooling at your eyes as you place it on the bed in front of your father, one where it's simply one of hobie with his neck craned to show hickeys littered on his slim jawline and collarbone.

Norman hums and nods slightly, “Is this that guy you liked? His music was like rock and his name was.. Harry? Henry? something-brown?”

“Punk music, and uhm.. It’s Hobie.” you mumble, you could never go against your father as if you two were like mixing oil and water.

He hums again before speaking with a firm and cold voice, “You aren’t seeing him again, and you’re not allowed out of the house. Roxanne will make your purchases and do your errands, and I’ll hire a twenty-four hour bodyguard.” He then stood as if your heart wasn’t just shattered by how you won’t be able to help anyone anymore, you’re more trapped than you were even before Hobie was in the picture, literally and figuratively.

You stood along with him and gestured your hands frantically, “What!? No! You can’t just-” You yelled before your words suddenly stop the moment you feel a sting on the side of your face, he just slapped you..

“Osborns don’t yell, and we don’t do disgusting activities with a perverted musician who’s only success in life is his ‘lifestyle’ of acting like a worthless punk.” You’ve never heard such venom in words spat from your father, never directed towards you at least.

And with that, he walked out. You felt like you were going to explode with all the anger boiling and frustration bubbling in your chest and when he walked out of your room, you screamed into your pillow and cried your heart out.

You don’t realize how long it’s been when you wake up, sitting up from your bed and looking over your bedroom where the few things that brought you joy were gone and cleaned out. Like your stereo, record player, Vinyl records, and your phone.

You felt tears prickle at the sides of your eyes and wish that this was a dream, that you can wake up to your father still loving you and hopeful that this really wasn’t happening.

About to lay back and cry again, you hear a thump on your window and then a few knocks.

You stand up and head over to your window to find Hobie awkwardly hanging on the wall while gesturing to the wooden frame of the glassed hole in your room.

You see that there's a lock, but a whole ass padlock that requires a key as if your window were the gates to a junkyard.

You shut your eyes and clasp your hands over your face with an exaggerated gentleness, knowing Hobie would break the window if he saw you physically take your frustration out on yourself or anything around you.

But just then your bedroom door flies open with Roxy standing there, staring at you and the punk by your window. You open your mouth to speak but she stops you with a gesture of her hand.

“Your father sent me up here to tell you that you’re no longer allowed out without your bodyguards, tomorrow security cameras will be installed outside your window, and.. I think you can tell what else I was going to say.” Her eyes fell to the window you were standing next to, hardly getting a glimpse of Hobie before he put his mask on. All she could see was just his skin tone and the dim shine of his piercings, “Window is locked with a key he’s trusting me to keep.”

“Roxy, please..” You mumbled as you went to her, tone pleading and genuine, “You know this is worse than before, couldn’t you have told my dad to go easy? This is my first offense, I always was well behaved for hi-”

“You know as much as I do that these are your consequences, I should have never let you go out so many times.” She sighed in disappointment, directed to either you or herself as she continued, “I’m sorry but it's not that it’s your ‘first offense’, it’s the fact that you’ve gone out and behaved like a borderline slut with a man you know your father despises.”

“..The slut comment wasn’t necessary.” You commented as you looked away and crossed your arms over your chest. You knew she wasn’t wrong but this felt like, “This is overkill, dude.”

“Yeah well, say that to your father when he’s back to being able to look you in the eyes.” Roxxanne didn’t even seem to do it either by how she looked at you but not at you.

“Please, Please at least unlock the window so me and ho-” You pause, “me and him can just say goodbye?”

You knew this sounded dramatic but you knew your dad wouldn’t give you the chance to do anything until you were thirty, maybe longer if he keeps denying the fact that you aren’t a little girl anymore.

“You’re just so.. Dammit.” That was the first time you’ve heard Roxy come close to cussing, but you immediately forget that as you watch her take out a keychain from her pocket, you couldn’t help but grin at her singling out the key that opens the padlock of the locked window.

The padlock soon opened with a click, the window sliding open and Roxy stood aside as Spiderpunk crawled in, flopping on the ground and getting up casually with an awkward nod of his head as a greeting to the woman that let him in.

She looked him up and down before back at you, “Keep this quick, if your father finds this out you’re completely on your own.” Roxy said seriously.

“Thank you so fucking much!” You grinned before latching onto her in a hug, to which she loosely embraced you back. “You’re still on thin ice, alright?” She whispered to you before pulling back and patting your shoulders.

Roxy turned back towards the masked punk stood there, getting face to face–as much as she could with him towering over her–And spoke with a hint of threat. “You have no idea what you’re getting into, keep her safe or so help me god Mr. Osborn will know of everything done.”

“Yes ma’am.” Spiderpunk replied with a surrender gesture of his hand, “She’s in good hands.”

And with that, Roxxanne said something about how you two have an hour, keeping things PG, and so forth. Then, she was gone with a shut of the door behind her.

“..Seems like you were found out.” Hobie commented with a dry chuckle, making sure to lock the door before taking off his mask, soon being attacked with a hug by you, your face in his chest and your arms clinging to him tightly.

“It’s worse than before! There's locks on everything and theres- theres gonna be cameras everywhere, my dad managed to make this place hell even more than it already was.” You sobbed into him, making hobie tightly hug you back with his gloved hand cradling the back of your head.

“I’s alright dove, we can figure something ou’-” He gently began, using the tone he often had to whenever you got like this, but cut off by one of your choked sobs and continuing.

“He’s never yelled at me before, He always was patient and talked about things but it’s like I’m not even his daughter anymore! Treating me like some dog on a leash he thinks he can hit and make the leash tighter.”

You felt him tense, soon feeling him nuzzling into the top of your head, “Shh..shh, Wha’s this abou’ him bea’ing you like a dog?” His voice was over exaggeratedly calm, making you tense as well.

“No no no no no hang on,” You quickly back tracked, moving back to wipe your tears and look up at him, “He didn’t beat me I was just exaggerating..! He just slapped me and he didn’t do anything more than that nor would he ever.”

You were practically biting yourself in the ass at how you were defending the man that even you hated, but Hobie wasn’t the type of man to let anyone get away with hurting you, he already had enough reason to hate everything your father stood for.

“That son of a..” He trailed off and turned around, he would have beaten your dad into a pulp if you didn't grab his wrist to turn him around to look at you.

“Hobie, you know that this wouldn’t help if not make things worse.” You said to him while looking into his eyes, his face furrowed and tense in his moment of blind rage, soon, his fisted hands relaxed and he let out a breath before pulling you into another hug.

“Look, you’re my whole world and you know this place isn’ good for you.” He murmured into your soft hair, “Please.. Come wit’ me.”

You weren't able to think if its because of the need to try and go against your own father, or at how he seemed so genuine, but the idea of leaving everything you knew behind was too much. You just had to get the last word.

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

Hobie let out a breathless laugh, pulling back to cradle your face and look into your eyes, “Seriously? You mean tha’?” He beamed before kissing you, you could feel the grin on his lips as you amorously reciprocated.

You giggled and nodded, your hands moving to his chest to look up at him, “Yeah! Yeah, when do we go?”

“Within the next hour, pack whatever you can and- and I’ll get whatever we can sell, yeah?”

And with that, The next moments are a blur, you filling your pillowcase with any clothing you can that wouldn’t get you mugged, and Hobie filling another with everything you’ve bought with blood money. From old too-heavy tiaras, to rings, to necklaces you’ve worn once.

Hobie webbed the pillow cases shut and together, having you hold them while he focused on holding you and web slinging to his houseboat.

__________________________

From then on, You’re known as Emily brown.

Not as the daughter of a monster,

Not as the bratty girl with her life handed to her on a silver platter,

Finally your own person.

__________

YIPPEE

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#{☆insooks ☆} #insuke #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #insooks rambles #fanfic #spiderman #spider punk #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown x reader fic

[very-grownup]

Ace Attorney game parallels (no, not that one, or that one, or that one ...)

One of the interesting things about the Great Ace Attorney in the evolution of Shu Takumi's Ace Attorney games is the maturation of "Weird Girl Assistant".

Our original trilogy Weird Girl Assistant is Maya Fey (obviously a perfect being beloved by everyone with taste why can't I preorder that Nendroid yet motherfuckers?), who is all heart and ... not so much knowledge, but a conduit to Mia’s knowledge. She doesn’t personally possess any legal knowledge, but she’s integral for Phoenix in accessing knowledge that would otherwise be denied to him due to Mia’s untimely death. She’s fully Weird in her Assisting.

Apollo Justice has Trucy Wright (obviously a perfect being beloved by everyone with taste), who is a lot of heart but not all heart. She has personal knowledge to impart to Apollo, regarding the perceive ability and his bracelet. It’s integral assisting to how the trials in that game will reach pivotal points, which makes it genuine Assisting, even if outside of that Trucy is plenty Weird. I would argue this is distinctive from the Phoneix-Magatama matter in the original trilogy (it’s easy to forget that Nick doesn’t even have the magatama in the first game) because Trucy is, essentially, teaching Apollo to do something he technically can already do, whereas the magatama is something Phoenix is given by an outside source still connected to the mentor (Pearl). Narratively and thematically they’re different, even if mechanically they function similarly.

Years later, the Great Ace Attorney gave us Susato Mikotoba (obviously a perfect being beloved by everyone with taste). Susato is an /actual trained legal assistant/ to the point she can masquerade as a lawyer in the second game's tutorial. She could BE the lawyer as easily at Ryunosuke, save for her sex in the historical setting of the game. She Assists like no one’s business and her Weird is no weirder than Ryunosuke himself, two young people who grew up in a country with recently opened borders, in a foreign country for the first time. 

A reflection of a maturation in Takumi's depiction of female characters, a general wider consciousness of feminism in popular culture in Japan (something I am in no way qualified to discuss), a third possibility? I don’t think it’s fair or accurate to say that the evolution of the Weird Girl Assistant into an actual competent assistant is a sign of the games ‘maturing’. For all their goofiness there has always been a serious, darker tone in the games compared to the adventure game standbys of North America. It’s built into the series from the choice to have Phoenix’ second case involve the solving of his boss and mentor’s murder.

There may also be something in the connection between the tutorial mentor and the Weird Girl Assistant, holding the balance of knowledge between them like the centre of a seesaw.

The connection with Mia and Maya is obvious: they’re sisters and perfectly mirror each other in their relation to what they bring to Phoenix. Mia on a pedestal of legal knowledge, forever older and wiser than Nick, as her death fixes her on that pedestal. Mia and Nick never get to be colleagues, equals. On the other end, enthusiastic but underage Maya, someone Nick will always be older than and always be wiser than in the legal sense. We don’t know how an older Maya might have fit with the disbarred Phoenix Takumi left the series with; maybe it didn’t matter and outside the confines of the Lawyer Protagonist and Weird Girl Assistant, Maya could stop being a mirror for her sister.

Similarly, Kazuma and Susato are sibling-like. Kazuma, like Mia, is the tutorial mentor, but he’s only a mentor to Ryunosuke because he’s a law student and Ryunosuke isn’t. He doesn’t have that much more knowledge than Ryunosuke and I think it correlates that he doesn’t have that much more knowledge than Susato, the girl who expected to be his legal assistant. There is something like equality here between the Mentor and the Weird Girl Assistant when neither precisely fits their role mold. Kazuma is, I think, as weird as Susato is knowledgeable.

BUT WHAT ABOUT --

Bitch, you know I've always got Apollo Justice opinions to drop.

In Apollo Justice, Kristoph is a fully knowledgeable mentor to Apollo. He is an actual lawyer, he is Apollo’s senior, and he is Apollo’s employer. In these ways, he is on all fours with Mia.

Aside from being the murderer.

There is, frankly, an entire other thing to get into with the tutorial mentors and how their stories intersect with death and a turning point in their respective protagonist’s life and career but this is about Weird Girl Assistants.

So.

What is Kristoph Gavin’s Weird Girl Assistant connection?

THE INCIDENT.

Seven years earlier, in Zak Gramarye’s trial, Trucy is used by Kristoph to deliver fake evidence to Phoenix, leading to Nick’s disbarment.

In Apollo’s tutorial trial, for the murderer of Shadi Smith/Zak Gramarye, Trucy is used by Phoenix to deliver fake evidence to Apollo, leading to Kristoph's arrest (and possibly his disbarment but who knows in the world of Ace Attorney and Japanifornia).

I have nothing but love for Trucy, but she's the shifty, deceitful Weird Girl Assistant to follow a shifty, deceitful Tutorial Mentor in a game about disillusionment and broken trust, following a trilogy about believing in yourself, your instincts, and redemption, and preceding two games riding a balance between hope and despair, with part of that balance being a more equal partnership between the Attorney and his Weird Girl Assistant.

#ace attorney #apollo justice #the great ace attorney #parallels #narrative patterns #just talking about ace attorney again #i have an advanced honours degree in saying how one thing is like another thing

[earthstellar]

it is time to be old on the internet: TFP Ratchet's hatred of 2010 era human tech is hilarious

every time Ratchet complains about shitty human technology in TFP, it's so funny to me, that shit is so good

because, I mean, I grew up with the first computer in my house being a fucking Tandy 1000, which to be fair wasn't exactly the hottest model even then, but still LMAO

the first modem I ever messed with as a kid was the wood box phone receiver type, the acoustic coupler ones, which was my dad's, and he only had it because his job at a local university meant he could borrow one from their tech lab (so we didn't technically own it)

if I remember correctly, the one we had ran at 300 baud, which was fucking amazing for such a set up at the time. slightly later AOL dial up looked like lightning speed compared to that shit.

my first chat rooms were BBS/Usenet (whenever I could connect) and IRC chats. now everyone has Discord and I still don't understand how that shit works lmao but that's more of a me problem and less of an age problem, I think

we got dial up (in the "modern" sense of it being AOL dial up service with the infamous hell noises) in my household in 1994, back when it was pretty much a brand new thing (at least for AOL), and I remember the Eternal September Usenet rush, lmao

imagine if TFP took place in the 80s/90s, oh my god

(I'm assuming TFP takes place in roughly 2010 because that's when the show premiered, and Miko has some kind of Razr-inspired flip phone, so if we assume it's supposed to be based on the first model of Razr, then at the earliest that places the show in 2004)

Ratchet would have gone completely insane with old school internet capable consumer level human tech

Ratchet: "How do I look at photos on this monitor?"

80s Raf: "what"

Ratchet: "what"

oh god now I want an 80s/90s TFP AU so fucking bad. imagine 80s Raf. it's so good

oh god, IMAGINE 90s RAF. just getting traumatised by terrifying shitty mid-90s FMV horror games. this poor boy. but imagine his hype when the PS1 would come out in the USA in 1995. the hype would be so fucking real. lmao

also for those of you who are Younger and Blessed With Good Internet From An Early Age, if you want a good idea of old school internet shit, go ahead and watch WarGames (1983) and look up 2600 Magazine and Mondo 2000 if you don't already know about those.

(personally I consider WarGames and Hackers (1995) to be the two best simultaneously dumbest and best movie depictions of computer bullshit in their respective eras, although Hackers was more of a thing that informed cyber culture after it released rather than reflecting actual hacker culture as it was at that exact time but anyway, please watch them if you have not seen them already, you will love this shit lmao)

I assume almost all of you already know about this stuff, but just in case, I want to mention it. those two movies are really good. lol

anyway, Ratchet dealing with early internet. early shitty human tech. or at least the 90s shit. imagine Ratchet having to listen to the fucking dial up screeching. the kids having to look through geocities webrings to see if any images of the bots had been leaked on any conspiracy websites. just 10/10 lmaooo

"I hate talking to machines" Ratchet, buddy, you have NO IDEA how bad it could have been!!!

anyway I'm old, I guess that's the point of this post LOL

#tfp #tfp ratchet #tfp raf #transformers prime #just thinkin' #maccadam #maccadams

[kissofthemis]

surprise for me, surprise for you

"My dear rose, while I have the utmost faith in your guidance and would follow you to the ends of the earth..."

You winced internally, bracing yourself for the inevitable teasing that was about to come your way.

"... in order to avoid any injuries, may I please open my eyes soon?"

Vyn's question ended with an amused lilt, letting you know that he wasn't actually too worried or criticizing you harshly. Nonetheless, you couldn't help but let out a soft "hmph" in indignation.

"I gave you perfectly clear directions," you countered. "And I'm the one who blocked you from running into the door post in the nick of time, so aren't I the one who needs to worry more about bumps or bruises?!"

The soft chuckle that left Vyn's lips stirred your heart like a spring breeze. "That's precisely why I want to open my eyes," he murmured, and despite the fact that his eyes were closed, you still felt a rush of heat flush your cheeks at the thought of him seeing you pout. "If you were to be injured on my behalf, I simply wouldn't be able to forgive myself."

Letting out a resigned sigh, you finally came to a stop, urging Vyn to halt beside you. "Luckily for both of us, we're here. You can open your eyes now."

Vyn wasn't a person who readily showed his emotions. However, even he couldn't fully suppress his surprise as you felt his palm grow warmer in yours and as you heard his breath gently hitch in his throat.

"Surprise!"

Balloons as shiny as sunlight. Streamers as vibrant as flowers. A spread of sweets as alluring as jewels. Smiling faces filling him with a sensation that was growing warmer and less foreign every day.

"Happy birthday, Vyn!"

Artem, Luke, Marius, and of course you, had prepared a humble but passionate birthday celebration for Vyn in his garden. You felt a swell of pride seeing the genuine shock on your lover's face; while he was exceptionally perceptive and quick to predict the actions or behaviors of others, he seemed awestruck to see the four friends who had prepared a small party in his honor.

"You put this together... for me?" Vyn didn't even try to hide the amazement in his voice.

Somewhere behind you, you heard Marius mutter, "Because jiejie asked me t--"

A quick blur flashed in the corner of your eye, and Marius immediately grew silent. You couldn't be sure if it was an arm or a leg that just moved, but you made a mental note to thank Luke later for preventing Marius from ruining the moment.

"That's what friends are for!" you replied, beaming at Vyn as you reveled in the warmth bubbling inside you. "A little birdie once told me that a certain Dr. Richter isn't too fond of lavish parties, where everyone has ulterior motives and nobody's kindness is genuine." You smiled softly. "Of course, this doesn't compare to the parties you grew up with, but... A small gathering of people who truly care about you isn't the worst way to spend a birthday."

You then turned and nodded to Artem, who nodded back in acknowledgement. "We also brought you gifts, as it's your birthday." He held out a simple but elegantly wrapped package. "I selected a couple of movies that I thought might be to your taste. They're DVDs, but if you use some other method to watch videos, let me know and I'll see what I can do."

Luke came up next with a large bag that looked as though it had been prepared in a hurry. "Being in the antique business, I see a lot of record players," he began. "Rosa told me you have a record player, so I picked out a couple of vinyl records for you. He scratched his nose. "You know who to call if your player has any issues, of course."

Finally Marius stepped up to a covered easel, puffing his chest. "And... I think you need to brighten up your office, so I painted you a little something. No refunds, no exchanges on this one-of-a-kind piece." With a dramatic flourish, he revealed a canvas depicting an exquisitely painted bouquet of flowers, in which one rose stood out as the biggest and brightest flower of them all.

"And... I did my best to bake some of the pastries you showed me how to make," you finished. "Artem lent me a hand, so I hope they're tasty enough for you!"

Vyn chuckled softly. Evidently he had recovered some of his senses, as he lowered his glowing golden gaze to meet your own. Adoration lit up his smile and tinted his nose and cheeks pink. "I'm sure they're perfect," he cooed. "All of this is... perfect." He lowered his forehead to touch yours, and warmth poured off him in waves, flowing into you. "I never knew that I could enjoy birthdays... until I met you. Thank you, my sweet rose, for continuing to surprise me every day with the depth of your love and the beauty of your soul."

He lifted his head for a brief moment, calling to Luke, "Can we please test one of those vinyls now? I have one more selfish request, as the guest of honor for this party."

Now his attention turned back to you, and judging from the smile spread across his lips and the way he squeezed your hands in his, you were the only object of his attention now.

"May I have this dance?"

#tears of themis #tot #vyn richter #mo yi #vyn richter x reader #tot vyn #happy birthday!

[thegoodwitchynki]

Be thinking about why Kiki's delivery service resonates so much with people more and more as time goes by and I think there's actually a couple different ways to look at it..

The first is nostalgia. Whether you grew up with this movie or not it really taps into a nostalgic place. A very 'simpler story from a simpler time', even the chaos "big city" seems pretty tame compared to modern day. And like most studio ghibli movies, do it takes a little time to romanticize the simpler, more old fashioned ways of life.

The second reason is how well it depicts burn out and depression. This is a childers movie that came out in the 80's and I'm not sure that I could think of a better example. Kiki pushed herself to the point that she loses her magic and losing her magic throws her into a depressive episode. She spends a lot of time alone, she has mood swings, and she trys and trys to fly but she can't. When she goes to visit Ursula she gives her some of the best advice for burn out

“Stop trying. Take long walks. Look at scenery. Doze off at noon. Don’t even think about flying. And then, pretty soon, you’ll be flying again.”

Even when she gets her magic back she still can't talk to Jiji anymore because she's not the same as before.

Noralities has a great video about all this and explains it much better, you should definitely go watch it

But one thing she doesn't mention that I think is another reason this reaches so many people is Kiki's work itself. Kiki works a service job, like a lot of us do. Her first job she loses the toy she's suppose to delivery and works really hard to get it back but we see the kids is not interested in the toy at all. He's more excited about the cage it came in.

The other job we see her doing is delivering a pie to a girl's birthday party from her grandmother. When the old woman tells her she can't delivery it because the oven isn't working, Kiki immediately offers to help get the old wood oven work so they can cook the pie. When it's finally done she flies across town in a strom just for this ungrateful brat girl to take the pie, mention how much she hates her grandma's pies and then slam the door in her face. Kiki even missed a party that the first friend she had made invited her to for this delivery!

Kiki makes some little sacrifice throughout the movie. She takes her mom's broom at the start even though she worked hard on her own, she wants to buy newer clothes but has to buy food and kitchen supplies, she misses her party for work. Kiki is always shown working hard, in the bakery, cleaning up her new space, and especially with her delivery service. Kiki literally work herself sick and she's barely even thanked.

And I think that's why Kiki's delivery service resonates so much with me

#kikis delivery service #studio ghibli #Youtube

[shironekil]

My love for Tokyo Ghoul.

I cannot express how much I love Tokyo Ghoul.

I finished my first reread last Saturday, and I’ve been experiencing classic TG brainrot. There has been so much going through my mind related to TG and I wanted to put it all down, somewhere, anywhere. I thought jotting it down into a tumblr post might be nice. I haven’t ever done this before, and I often find it hard to put all of my thoughts and feelings into words. Honestly, I didn’t expect everything to hit as hard as it did compared to when I first read TG. Considering I already knew the major reveals and plot points, I didn’t think they would make me feel the same way they did on my first experience, but I was very wrong. From start to finish, I loved every bit of it, probably even more than I did on my first read. Remembering the main aspects of the story and the different arcs and plot points actually gave me the chance to focus on and appreciate everything about TG so much more. Be it the characters or the art or the themes and symbolism. Also, I definitely think reading it at a slower pace helped, considering I bingeread it the first time. Without a doubt, Tokyo Ghoul is my favourite piece of fiction ever.

Tokyo Ghoul had everything I could ask for. The aspect of TG that I treasure most is the cast. It has a wonderful, wonderful group of characters. I can’t emphasize how much I love the TG cast. I probably have a special spot for almost every single one, at least among the significant characters. Be it Hinami, Tsukiyama, Hide, Eto, Juzo, Urie, Amon, Saiko, Akira, Nishiki, Takizawa, Renji, Ayato, Arima.. Ishida just presented them in a way where I could do nothing but be heavily invested in them. I can’t really think of any other manga that made me love the characters this much. Granted that stories like One Piece, HxH, JJK, and Jigokuraku each have an amazing cast with characters I love, I just feel different about the characters in Tokyo Ghoul. It might be because of the deep level of empathy I developed for each one of the characters? Maybe I could better relate to or understand what they went through? I personally think Tokyo Ghoul combined fiction with reality so well. When I say fiction, I mean in the sense of fantasy. When I read manga like One Piece, I feel immersed in the world and it takes me out of reality when I’m reading. Even for manga in real world settings, such as JJK, I get so caught up in the outwordly story that I don’t really have a grapse on reality. What I’m trying to say is that with TG, I really felt that many things depicted in the story were directly applicable to the real world we live in. It gave us a two-sided story where we constantly had a perspective of the Investigator and Ghoul world, and how their actions impact everything. It felt like this could be something happening in real life. In fact, many things shown in the manga are happening in real life but in the context of only humans. I’ll probably elaborate on that further after I finish talking about the characters or on another post. What I noticed is that I grew so much more fond of some characters I grew during this reread, who I didn’t really care much about before. Ui, Hanbeh, Hirako, Naki, Hairu, Hsiao.. I could go on. One of Ishida’s many strengths is his character writing and development. Kaneki is on a special tier of his own, to the point where I would say he is the best written character in manga. It might be a stretch for some, but the complexity and depth of Ken Kaneki is just something I haven’t gotten over since I first read TG. Aside from our MC, the way Ishida developed our side cast was amazing. Notably, I felt the strongest character arcs (aside from Touken) over the course of two parts were Arima, Eto, Suzuya, Amon, Shuu, Hinami, and Yomo. In relation to :re, Urie and Mutsuki probably had my favourite character arcs. Every character got a share of magic. On the reread, I got to appreciate certain characters a lot more.

The concept of investigators coming from the Hakubi Garden piqued my interest in Hairu, Hsiao, and Squad 0. I barely noticed them when I first read TG. When Hairu debuted, I had no clue she would be such a menace with her quinque. My first impression was that she was a cute and mysterious airhead. When she faced Matsumae and the others for the first time, I was blown away by her skills. Arima was very different, as he was built up constantly throughout the entire story. Kishou was literally named the “Reaper”, I don’t know what else you could to build that lethal, frightening aura he had. When I saw Hairu battle with such ease, I was instantly a fan. In an exagerrative sense, it felt like we were somewhat seeing a female version of Arima. That is where I really understood how special these Hakubi Garden children were. My appreciation for Squad 0 jumped up from then on. Hirako, similarly to Ui, had my attention from the 20th ward anteiku battle, and I really liked the bigger role he had to play in :re. Hsiao was the “new” quinx that immediately grabbed my attention. I loved her character design and reading that she came from the Garden meant I was going to read in joy whenever she was action. Hairu and Hsiao gave me some of my fav moments during the Rosé and Dragon arcs.

Ayato is someone I absolutely love after the reread. The way he matured reminds me a lot of Urie, although each of them did so differently. When we first met Ayato pre time skip, I couldn’t think of him as anything but an annoying rat. He wasn’t nice, he was aggresive, and I can’t really blame him because he was just one of many victims of the cruel world. I immediately caught onto how much Ayato had grown by TG :re. The panel where he tells the Torso, in calm and reasonable fashion, that him and his gang are nicer than the other Aogiri ghouls. I instantly remembered how he told Kaneki the same exact thing while he was repeatedly kicking him. The contrast in how Ayato acted in these two situations made it clear that Ayato had changed, from someone filled with rage and violence to someone composed and rational. Renji did say, during his fight with Arima, that the Kirishima siblings were like their mother - out of control. Touka undergoes a similar transition. I understood that both of them had let go of the past, which previously filled their hearts with hatred and anger. All his future actions and mannerisms displayed further showed us that Ayato has really grown up. I definitely think that Hinami played a key part in helping Ayato change. When Ayato first met Hinami, he still seemed somewhat unapproachable, like he was when he dealt with Kaneki. When Ayato got angry at her and Hinami laughed, it was probably the start of a new path for Ayato. Similarly to Touka, I felt that he was dealing with the despair of being alone in a cruel world. Parents gone, sister not there. Ayato dealt with it different to how Touka did, but they both felt alone and angry. Hinami gave Ayato the opportunity to feel that warmth he was missing - to fill that void in his heart, similarly to how Kaneki did with Touka. I could talk a lot more about Ayato. “Keep going Kaneki” will always give me goosebumps. He had accepted Kaneki, not only as his King, but as his brother in law.

I was dragged into getting all sympathetic and attached to Naki. He might be “bros” with that psychopath Jason, but I just couldn’t shake off how I felt about him. The loyalty he showed was second to none. Whether it was that panel of him mumbling his comrades names or when he protected Miza or when he pledged loyalty to the One Eyed King, on top of the fact hes a goofball, I couldn’t help but like the guy. I won’t forget how he improved his vocab through reading because Ken advised his people to do so.

The Quinxes shined ever so brightly, which I expected as I only had good memories of them from the first time I read TG :re. Every single Quinx left a lasting impression on me. All for different reasons. I could talk constantly about each Quinx. Kuki Urie, who had one of the best character arcs I’ve ever seen in animanga, will always be a hero for me. I cannot get over how he turned from an egotistical and self centered dog to a considerate and thoughtful leader. What I really loved about Urie is that his character development was extremely visible. You noticed it in the story and you would notice how you changed from “I hate this dude” to “I love him!”. So much about him had changed, which was conveyed through even the smallest details. I noticed how little he would smile before losing Shirazu, and how much more he smiled when he became Qs leader. That moment where Urie just smiles at the sight of Saiko crying tears of joy after finding out Maman is still alive is so heartwarming. Saiko is the most precious character in TG. I could not get enough of how adorable she was. When she saved Urie after framing out, when she saved Mutsuki on the dragon, when she was hugging Maman when he was still in a coma, or when she was holding Touka’s hand as they waited for Ken to return. On top of giving us heartfelt moments, she was incredible with her kagune and I’m so glad she was the Quinx who had the ability of using her kagune so freely, I felt it really suited her character. Toru Mutsuki probably has one of the creepiest character arcs I’ve ever seen. Normally, I don’t get too affected by fictitious violence, in the sense that I don’t let it lurk in my mind later, but I just could not get over Mutsuki and her story. Chapter 79. No exagerration, Chapter 79 is one of the most sickening and provoking chapters I’ve ever read. Pre Rushima, I loved Mustuki. She reminded me so much of Kaneki before he had met Jason and tragedy occured. The parallels between Mutsuki and Kaneki were very clear throughout the story, even during Rushima and especially during Chapter 79. I could say so much about what that chapter meant and how it made me feel. Kaneki was an example of someone who was able to overcome his demons, whereas Mutsuki was an example of someone who couldn’t. She went onto an absolutely hopeless path as some sort of psychopath which was really painful to see. I could talk endlessly about Mutsuki. As a character, I love her as much as many of my favs. Urie and Mutsuki are perfect examples of side characters that just stick to your mind. I hadn’t read TG in two years, but whenever someone talks about well-written side characters, they spring to mind.

Furuta was an unbelievable antagonist. Ishida managed to create the TG version of the Joker. Nimura managed to be evil and heartless while running a troll gimmick. I couldn’t help but laugh at his trolling, even in the most serious situations. In addition to the Joker, he reminded me of Aizen. The fact that he has basically planned everything that has happened in the plot, from the moment he dropped the steel beams to the moment Ken eats all of the Oggai, was just so Aizen-esque. As bad as Furuta was, his backstory still broke my heart. The despair he felt stemmed from the world he had to live in and he decided to destroy it all.

I just have to leave a special mention in this post for Tsukiyama and Hinami. I adore both of them, especially with how :re went on and concluded.

Kaneki and Touka have a special place in my heart forever. I absolutely adore them and I love them so much. My favourite characters in all of fiction. I can write pages of what I feel and think about them. My sweet eyepatch and darling rabbit. Ishida gave them royalty treatment in every way possible. Everytime they were together in a panel, my heart just filled up with joy.

TG art is unrivaled. I haven’t and I doubt I will ever come across anything with art like this. It just isn’t something you can replicate or imitate. Every drawing manages to convey different feelings and ideas.. I never truly understood the beauty of art until I read Tokyo Ghoul. It isn’t just a drawing or depiction of a certain scenario. It bursts out at you with emotion. There are obviously other manga which have got amazing art. Berserk and Vagabond come to mind. I just feel TG art contains so many thought and emotion provoking layers to it while simultaneously being aesthetically pleasing. The art is obviously one of the main appeals of TG. You could pull almost any panel and I guarantee it would look amazing. A panel may provoke fear, sadness, despair, joy, amazement, or a bundle of different emotions in you when looking at it. Chapter 145 is a perfect example. An entire chapter with no speech at all. An entire chapter of nothing but beautiful spreads and panels depicting the destructive and chaotic nature of the dragon. “A picture is worth a thousand words.”

What I really love about Tokyo Ghoul and what I believe attracts me to it the most are the themes and ideas that Ishida is constantly trying to convey, and how so many of them are directly applicable to the real world. Tokyo Ghoul gave me so many life lessons on so many different things. Whether it was related to loneliness, relationships, discrimination, inner peace, normalcy in life, the purpose of life and moving forward. It all comes to mind when reading TG. Each theme or idea is obviously interconneted with the others, and I really feel that they’re directly applicable to the world we live in. We obviously don’t have to deal with ghouls, but many of the struggles and conflicts that our beloved characters faced reminded me of the things we face in our everyday lives. I could relate to some of the things that they showed in the manga in relation to these ideas. “This world is wrong.” I haven’t come across any line in anime or manga that stuck with me like this did, until I read :re. “The world isn’t wrong. It just is.” The way grey morality was depicted in TG in relation to what is right or wrong is an issue I feel strongly exists in our world, especially in today’s day and age. This is probably because the setting and events in Tokyo Ghoul remind me so much of the things happening in our world. TG just had the perfect mix of fiction and reality. I was immersed in a different world that was filled with ghouls and humans while somewhat keeping me linked to reality. I don’t really know how to put it into words. If I had to explain it, I guess it kept me fully engaged in this fictional setting where ghouls existed, where I would just constantly think about and get anxious, sad, or excited over the characters. At the same time, the events and dialogue taking place in the story constantly made me go back and think about the real world and how it relates or applies to reality. I was absorbed by this fictitious world while always thinking about how it relates to our world.

I just have to mention how special the writing and storytelling in TG is. I noticed such things individually and got to do my research on them, in addition to discovering other aspects to his writing and drawings from reddit. In Tokyo Ghoul, it was clear from the start that every single panel, drawing and piece of dialogue served a purpose. There was always some sort of significance to whatever Ishida was showing us. A panel could include either subtle details in his art, such as the constant tarot card hints or the habits the characters had like Kaneki touching his chin or Mutsuki clenching her arm. A panel could directly imply something, such as making a literature reference. This added more depth in relation to the story, the characters and what Ishida wanted to convey through various methods of symbolism. Reading about the context of the tarot cards, literature references and metaphors made the story much more interesting. It helped us understand the TG characters on a deeper level in terms of what themes they symbolize and what role in the story they represent.

I feel like I’ve written a good share on Tokyo Ghoul for now. I understand that much of what I said might seem all over the place, but I just wanted to speak from the heart. I have so much more to speak on, which I will probably do in other posts. I guess my final words on this have to be:

I LOVE TOKYO GHOUL!

#tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul re #ken kaneki #touka kirishima

[lnkedmyheart]

I always really liked the sheep and how they were presented because they really just a group of dysfunctional orphaned teenagers. They steal alcohol and get in trouble, the only difference these kids have to the ones in my neighbourhood is that they have Chuuya to get them out of trouble. Like Yuan is behaving like a 15 year old because she is one, Shirase too and while they can be annoying (tho that's mostly shirase in stormbringer, his king nonsense made me roll my eyes so much) that's just being a teen?? I'm pretty sure I was just as annoying as them when I was younger. I think the problem that people compare these completely normal kids with Dazai and Chuuya who are very much not normal kids and have already matured a lot more in some aspects because of what they have been through and the responsibilities they carried

Chuuya was their safety net. They literally grew up fighting and stealing to survive, no wonder they were so upset at the thought of him leaving. He was their best friend and strength but his power made then distrust him cause why wouldn't someone as powerful as him want to leave a bunch of orphans for better chances and luxury? They were kids who were doing all they could to keep him and in their immature little minds that meant trying to constantly remind him that he owed them for saving him cause what else did they have? And its not like Chuuya has been particularly good at showing affection and that probably already put this group of kids in an awkward spot.

The moment Chuuya left the Sheep fell apart and got dragged into child labour and other exploitative activities.

The problem is that people don't want realistic depictions of abuse, child exploitation and fear response. They want something crazy and unusual like blowing up a facility with your magical powers, they want elaborate trauma that seems over the top and at least a bit less real. Hell, they dont want actual depiction of depression, ptsd and relapses. They want something cool and when its more realistic they can slap a label of uncool and annoying on it. Those are little children, yes one of them happened to be full of himself and they turned on their best friend, but we dont even try to look at them from their perspective. The perspective of a group of terrified kids stuck in a 3 way turf war.

[gear-project]

BATTLE STANCE EVOLUTION: Part 1

I'm calling this "Part 1" because I plan on covering the other characters eventually in discussion, but just keep in mind Tumblr limits 10 images per blog post, so that's the main reason I'm doing this.

Sol Badguy: Initially he gripped the Fireseal with a reverse grip in a laid-back and lazy pose and mostly let his fists and feet do the fighting, but as time went on he built the large heavy blade weapon known as OutRage Mk. 2… we already know how large it gets when completely transformed, but by itself Sol likes to use a white tassel to help throw its heavy weight around. It's actually better at smashing things than simply cutting. In times past, Sol used a Concrete Slab, an Emergency-use Axe, and a Cogblade sword. Sol has also been known to dual wield weapons on rare occasion.

Ky Kiske: Ky's Hand and a Half stance once embodied the nobility of the Sacred Order of Holy Knights, and he even maintained that stance when wielding the massive ornamental blade Aquila (proof that he can wield heavy swords even with one hand)… Later, when the Thundersealed Sword regenerated itself from saving Dizzy, Ky adopted a more relaxed side-stance, but this relaxed stance hides just how flexible he really is in combat as he can cut down a person's ankles in an instant with Stun Dipper. In addition, motion he makes for Vapor Thrust now has two different motions… the Heavy version gains more height and Ky uses more force to launch his opponents. Ky has also alternated from several different leg-based attacks from Needle Spike (An overhead axe-kick in to a slash of his sword), Crescent Slash (a reverse flip in to an upward Slash), Greed Sever (his famous "Emerald Sword"), and finally Foudre Arc which uses the same arcing motion the original Needle Spike had, but can be enhanced during "Shock State". Else, Ky has far too many moves to really list here, to say how versatile he really is… most notable being Zerofied Chain, which is a magic spell that Ky can use to maneuver around his opponent much like Baiken's Kabari "Fishing Fly" technique.

Zato=ONE: Zato's original "back-facing stance" is based on Flamenco Dancers in Spanish tradition, allowing him to stomp and clap easily (which is how he currently trained Eddie to change actions mid-motion as a kind of Attack-Cancel). His current modern stance favors his dominant foot and the motions of his arms (which are used to form many of the shadow attacks he uses, similar to a genuine Shadow Puppet Show).

Millia Rage: Her initial stance put emphasis on her physical speed and flexibility, allowing her hips to sway in motion with the flicks of her hair. But as Angra grew in size and power, Millia has had to adjust her stance to accommodate the weight of her hair as a weapon. Now she can use the weight of her hair's attacks to propel her own body mid-motion for kicks and quick movements like Mirazh (her evolved form of the Zenten forward roll she once used). Most notable of her arsenal is the changes made to her multi-hitting Lust Shaker attack. Originally they were light flicks of attacks from the top of her head towards her opponent as a kind of anti-air move, but eventually she started using the move horizontally and leaned sideways in order to use her hair's power more effectively… they created a "Rose Crest" effect on Lust Shaker (in the GGX days as the Drafting Arts depicted it)… she would of course later develop Chroming Rose as a result of this and Longinus (a follow-up to Lust Shaker), but now the attack is effective enough to be used behind her hips without much effort compared to before (in early XX depictions though, it acted as protective Ivy around her body, like a hedge of thorns).

Chipp Zanuff: Chipp has grown a lot as a Ninja to say the least… early on, he would hold his hand and leading foot outwards and shift from front to back, later, he would sometimes wag his hand in a relaxed motion as if that was his natural battle stance… but since Strive's events, he has mastered Tsuyoshi's teachings and keeps a much tighter stance with his hands and fingers for use in various Jutsu techniques. Furthermore, it can be said that his Banki Messai has changed a lot as well… as Chipp can now use Shadow Clones to attack alongside himself, instead of merely using his natural agility. He's also improved his skill in Stealth and Illusions as well.

May: Early on, May's battle stance was very simple as she would sway in accordance with the shifts in weight of her anchor, but now that she has a custom-made Anchor to match her skill with Water Magic, her stance has become less erratic so that she can use the full power of her strength and the Anchor's weight at a moment's notice… growing taller has also changed how she holds her weapon as well since she's not so tiny anymore compared to the massive Anchor's size.

Axl Low: Axl's semi-crouching stance is pretty famous in terms of how he traditionally wields his Kusari-gama, the reason being that this is the usual stance he has when throwing out consecutive Rensengeki chain attacks. Throwing the chain along the ground is how he establishes his offense and "controls the stage". Most likely the reason behind such a low stance has to do with how much effort is needed in throwing his heavy chains around, to put his whole back muscles in to the force of the attack. Axl's more modern "standing stance" is much more relaxed and reveals (believe it or not) that Axl has gotten much stronger since he started using the style: the reason he can stand up normally and still wield his chain scythes is because it takes a lot LESS effort to throw his chains now that he has more muscle power in his arms and legs to throw the weapon around. He also likes to "tap" his front-most foot in time with the sway of the chains he wields, meaning his battle stance has a rhythm to it, even if that's not immediately apparent.

Potemkin: Potemkin's old fighting stance had him rock back and forth while favoring to grip with his dominant hand: it would open and close as if readying him to grab his opponent at a moment's notice… Similar to some ways gorillas use their knuckles and forearms to propel themselves forwards, Potemkin also utilizes the size of his hands to propel himself rather than his much smaller feet and legs. He still walks normally of course, but because of how small his legs are in proportion to his arms, he's always been slow at getting around. He can still kick and stomp with a great deal of force though, make no mistake! As of Strive, Potemkin favors a stance that is more accurate to MMA-style grappling and wrestling… both hands are open and ready to pin the opponent down at any time. While Potemkin puts less emphasis on his destructive Mega Fists (Or Gigantic Piston/Magnum Opera) these days, his Potemkin Buster is still an unchanged force to be reckoned with. It's just too bad we don't get to see his stern face under all that Armor as much anymore!

Faust: Even back in the old days, Faust was something of an odd fighter, but he gets his habits from a certain warrior named TamTam of Samurai Shodown fame! He would rock up and down on the haunches of his feet and occasionally skitter backwards to maintain dominance with the range of his massive Margarita Scalpel. While his old style put more emphasis on direct hack and slash attacks, Faust would often use the natural range of his limbs and the length of his fingers to take advantage of his opponents… you do NOT want to get Slapped by Faust during his massive IKINARI OISSU Hand Slap… it stings worse than a Harisen Fan! As of Strive, Faust has "put on" the SERIOUS Surgery gloves and his massive height is on full display, even taking advantage of his unnatural flexibility and "other" bizarre powers to get the drop on anyone who would DARE stop a Doctor from fulfilling their sacred duties! More famous among his kit of moves was his "Pogo Stance" which could produce the "Doctor Copter!" using his long legs to fly in the air!

Baiken: She was the HIDDEN FIGHTER among this roster of misfits, but has since evolved from less of a Yankee Delinquent with a Katana and more of an actual powerhouse Samurai Warrior! It's worth noting that many of her animations and attacks were "unfinished" according to many sources, and even in the GGXX days, her animations hadn't been fully fleshed out as well as they should have been. It wasn't until Xrd Revelator that Baiken got a proper kit of walking and running animations… still, looking at the comparison here, you can tell that the sprite-work for GGX's version of Baiken still had to rely on the original GG1 sprites as a base, so just the fact they managed to get so far with producing Baiken as a character means there was a LOT of talent behind her creation. Based on the animations of her stance though… originally Baiken gripped her sword with her remaining hand though it's unclear how the sword was tied to her belt at the time (they didn't think to draw a proper belt for her sword!) Nowadays her stance puts emphasis on her open palm: which she uses for grab counters, Ki attacks, and even her BAKU Seals which can debilitate anyone who gets hit by them. Of course, she DOES Draw her sword, but she uses a quick draw method along with a tassel which she uses to hold the scabbard in addition to using her teeth to hold the sword before a full draw. Her multi-use Prosthetics have ranged from a pinwheel blade, a dragon cannon, a rope with a hook, and a kind of bell clasp which is what she uses in her modern style of managing her opponent's movements with Kabari (her "Fishing Fly"… the original name of Kabari was "Kamaitachi" as in a Wind Demon which is known to trip up those unawares…). Also, fun-fact... Baiken's Slot 1 Color in Guilty Gear Strive is based on the original color of Baiken's hair from GG1 which is a more natural hair color compared to the Cherry Blossom Pink color that Baiken is more known for.

Welp, that's it for now... I might cover other characters later... but I'm filing this article under the Movelist Evolution and Battle Stance Evolution tags, in case you were wondering where to find it again!

#Movelist Evolution #Battle Stance Evolution #Time Capsule