#i dont remember it being this hard to figure out what the hell to do with the shit on his face last time

[blueskittlesart]

is there any modern totk outfits that you have drawn as a part 2 to the botw ones?

It's been a while since i've done something like this! one thing i noticed is that the totk outfits are definitely. considerably sluttier. link turned 18 and was like ok time to whore it up a bit

part 1 here

#totk #tears of the kingdom #loz #legend of zelda #asks #skribbles #there also appears to be WAY more actual like hats and headpieces this time #i dont remember it being this hard to figure out what the hell to do with the shit on his face last time

[rrxnjun]

where do broken hearts go? [lmk]

you know what they say about past lovers that can remain just as friends - either they're still in love with each other, or they never were in the first place.

pairing: mark lee x fem! reader

genre: exes to lovers. angst, fluff.

wc: 12k (11.926)

warnings: mention of sex, weed and alcohol, heartbreak, swearing, park jihoon of treasure is one sassy bitch and also accidentally somehow the main character of this fanfic plz dont @ me, inconsistent writing style bc i took 3 months and 3 depressive episodes to finish this fic

playlist: where do broken hearts go - one direction / too good to say goodbye - bruno mars / everytime - ariana grande / closer - waterparks / tornado warnings - sabrina carpenter / survive the night - the boyz

a/n: hey do some of you still remember me..... AHAHA tell a friend to tell a friend rrxnjun is BACK! this fic isn't the ideal vision i had in my mind but we are working on not being so hard on ourselves with our writing so! here we are. i still kind of like it :,)

When you walk up to your best friend’s apartment one day with a tub of ice cream under your arm and the biggest pout on your face, Park Jihoon makes a complete list of things you should do to get over your failed relationship with Mark Lee. And while you think your dear friend has some psychopathic tendencies sometimes, you’d say the list is actually pretty reasonable of him. 

There’s something about the five simple steps that makes you wonder if it’s really as easy as Jihoon makes it sound. And while you doubt it– because the pinging pain in your heart makes it seem like the heartbreak is truly going to kill you in a few minutes if you don’t do something about it– you give it a try, because come on… you’d do anything to not feel like this ever again.

Step one – cry it out.

“He was a cunt anyway,” Jihoon mutters as he steps into the living room with two spoons in his hands, throwing one of them to you– while almost managing to hit you in the middle of your forehead in the process, adding a concussion to the mix of problems you have going on right now– and you find yourself furrowing your brows at his hateful comment.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, as your best friend, I’m supposed to be on your side, no?” he says as he takes a seat on the sofa next to you, watching as you wrap one of the thick blankets you got for the male around your figure– you bought it mainly for yourself, because his apartment is cold as a freezer and you knew he wouldn’t buy one for you to use in the first place– and shrugs. “Besides, he broke your heart, and any male who does that is a cunt in my eyes.”

“I broke up with him,” you mourn, “so I broke my own heart,” you snicker, despair fully filling you up from the inside– fitting everywhere into your lungs and choking you up from how bad you truly feel. Now, this isn’t your first breakup– you’ve had your fair share of boyfriends in high school (in your baddie era, as Jihoon called it), but Choi Yeonjun from Maths class and Jung Woonyoung, the guy you dated for a total of 2 months over the summer break before he moved away, weren’t exactly boys you found yourself falling in love with. Sure, you liked them, you kissed them and went on dates with them– hell, you even hooked up with Yeonjun once before you realized the relationship truly wasn’t for you– but no one managed to cave into your heart just as much as Mark Lee, your first college boyfriend did.

“But you sure had a reason for it, come on!” Jihoon huffs, taking the tub of ice cream from your hands and opening it for you, since you’ve gotten quite weak from the lack of sleep and nutritions ever since the break up, hands clammy and not cooperating. “You don’t just break up with someone to break your own heart. He did that, that’s why you said goodbye to him,” he says before sitting the enormous tub of ice cream between your two bodies, nudging you to dig into the frozen delicacy.

“Yeah, but–”

“No buts, young lady. We are here to make you forget you ever even dated Mark Lee, so open up, eat the ice cream and focus your attention on Titanic so you can finally cry it out,” he says, and by the tone of his voice, you’d think he’s angry with you. Jihoon has this aura around him that makes you think he’s always at least a little annoyed at everything– but he told you to not mind it and that it’s just his sassy bitch attitude. 

He does have a point, though. You broke up with Mark because he broke your heart first– there was no other reason for it. If it was something minor, something small, you were sure you could work on it. You have, numerous of times before, brought up something and had a mature conversation about it– something you always so admired about Mark, being so cautious and understanding when navigating problems in the relationship– but when you bring up the same thing over and over, and it never gets fixed despite him telling you he’ll try harder next time, you think you’re allowed to feel a little heartbroken at his nonexistent efforts. And that’s exactly why you decided to quit the relationship– after a while, you felt like you were putting in more effort than he was, effectively making you feel like he’s not even that interested in dating you in the first place.

First, he just told you he was forgetful. He forgot he promised to pick you up from class one day– and you said that it’s okay, he is busy, after all– and it was the first time it happened, so you didn’t really mind that much, truly. Then, he forgot about the date you scheduled– but it was fine, because you didn’t have reservations anyway, you could change the day to any other day of the week, after all. He kept forgetting the stuff you told him in between the conversations you shared– and it was small things, you understand, but sometimes, you wondered if he was ever really listening to you at all. 

Forgetful soon turns not interested in your eyes, and when he doesn’t call you in the evening like he promised he would, when he doesn’t show up to the party you invited him to, because he forgot it was that day, you’re one step closer to calling it quits, because each and every one of these situations sends a sharp pain into your stomach. The last straw was just last week, though– and realistically, it was an important day, as much that you thought the day is somehow gonna fix everything, but the truth is somewhere completely else as Mark Lee forgets about your one year anniversary and never shows up at your doorstep for the dinner you prepared for the two of you like he promised he would. 

And it doesn’t click in him two days after either– you don’t even get a text. He got so forgetful over time that he forgot about you completely, and that’s when you took an uber to his place and broke up with him for good.

And even though the breakup was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt yourself go through, Jihoon is right– you’re not the one that broke your own heart. Mark Lee did that for you many times before, and this was just the breaking point.

“Fucking hell, you bought cookies and cream again?” Jihoon huffs when he takes another spoonful of the ice cream into his mouth, eyebrows furrowing at the sweet taste. Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you wipe your left cheek as you hum, immune to his nagging by now.

“You know I hate cookies and cream!”

“You know, Hoon, I bought this for myself. When you’re the one that’s heartbroken, we’ll share your favorite ice cream flavor instead,” you mumble, munching on the coldness on your tongue, sniffling a little when your eyes avert to the TV screen.

And after that, the teasing from your best friend’s side stops. Maybe it’s just because he hates to see you cry– and he rarely gets the chance, if you’re being honest, since you’re pretty good at handling your emotions– but you secretly know that it’s because when he looks back at the TV screen in front of the two of you, the sad part of the movie hasn’t even started yet and the tears are not the result of the movie, but of your own thoughts instead.

Step two – give him back all of his stuff and the stuff he’s given you that reminds you of him. Demand that he does the same.

Now, step two was a thing most couples do when they break up. Realistically, it makes sense– you wouldn’t want stuff that’s not yours just laying around, and also, it’s just bound to remind you of the person you lost. Naturally, you’d want to return it.

“Why does he have to return my things as well?” you mutter under your breath as Jihoon helps you fold all Mark’s hoodies into a cardboard box, alongside with wrapping the little things your ex boyfriend made out of ceramic for you in tissue paper like you asked him to– even though he complained and said that it shouldn’t matter to you if they break, because you are the heartbroken one– but you held those little things too close to your heart to let them get damaged in the first place.

“Because that’s how it works,” Jihoon hums, watching as you throw another one of Mark’s shirts onto the top of his head, shielding his vision. “What, you don’t want your stuff back?”

“I mean…” you mumble, deeply considering of the fact that the thought of getting your stuff back didn’t even cross your mind until now, before you realize your favorite pair of socks is thrown somewhere in Mark’s drawers– the blue ones with peaches on them– and you suddenly have the revelation that while you don’t necessarily need the stuff back, you’d love to wear those socks again. “I guess…” you note as you walk over to Jihoon and take a glance into the full cardboard box, looking over the stuff and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“It’s like witchcraft, y’know,” Jihoon points out, looking at you with fierce eyes mirroring the stupid idea that just flashed through his brain, “if you don’t exchange the things, a piece of you is still kept at his apartment and you won’t be able to move on.”

And again, Park Jihoon does have psychopathic tendencies, but he may be onto something here. So you listen to him as you nod along and close the cardboard box, ready to drive over to Mark Lee’s apartment and drop off the things you’ve collected from him for the past year. The box includes all of the clothes messily scattered across your drawers and your closet, the picture frame of you two together that you always had on your night stand, the ceramic bowls and a little tiger sculpture he made for you when he took a pottery class with his friend Renjun, and the lost guitar pics you found under your bed and at the very top of your bookshelf from when he used to bring his guitar along and play you songs on rainy afternoons. The only things of Mark’s that you kept were the love letter he gave you for your birthday and the USB with his cover of Justin Bieber’s Off my face on it that he shyly gifted to you on one of your dates; but you would never tell Jihoon that in fear of him getting rid of those most precious memories for you.

It’s good to let go, but you don’t think you’re wrong for wanting to keep something to remind you of the good times. The times you still felt loved by Mark.

“Off we go,” you say, standing up and bringing the box towards your front door, your best friend at your feet. He promised to drive you to Mark’s place– you think he’s worried about you meeting your ex-boyfriend face to face for the first time since the break up, but he said it’s because you’re too broke to Uber all the time, efficiently throwing all the considerate thoughts you were accrediting him out the window– and after a few minutes of the drive, you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Mark Lee's apartment.

Taking a deep breath in and out, almost chickening out with the flood of thoughts and excuses you could say to Jihoon when you come back to his car with the box still in your hands– sayings like “he wasn’t home” or “he didn’t want those back”, the latter stupider than the first– you decide to face your problems head-on and finally knock on the mahogany door, waiting for Mark to answer. And he does– of course he does, because he’s always home, and as his ex-girlfriend of one year, you're painfully aware of the fact– but when that happens, you feel your heart falling all the way down to your stomach, crushing you and suddenly making it hard for you to breathe. 

“Um… hi,” he greets you, voice a little groggy, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while– and when you meet his eyes, the deep chocolate orbs you always found yourself admiring and writing silent odes to in your head, you quickly glance away in fear of staring into them for too long and making decisions you wouldn’t like to make.

“Hi,” you awkwardly greet back, clearing your throat and moving a little in your place, shifting the weight from one foot to the other. You're surprised you're able to keep up with the conversation, thoughts running in your brain faster than you can comprehend them, heartbeat ringing in your ears from the unexpected anxiety. Maybe Jihoon was right and you should've taken a shot before coming here– at least you'd have more courage and social skills clearly needed for this kind of interaction. “I… brought you back your things,” you say, finally looking up at the male and chewing on your lips, letting out an awkward, tense laugh when he stares at you with an empty look, “figured you’d want them back,” you add, watching as the male opens his mouth and closes it in what seems to be shock before he presses his lips tightly together and nods at you.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he watches you clumsily hold up the cardboard box to him, ready to leave his stuff there with him and escape as fast as you can, not really minding how you'll get back to Jihoon's car– if jumping down the window of the entrance hall is the fastest option, you're ready to get to it. The truth is, everything is starting to get a little too hard to bear– his familiar scent filling your nose, the hoodie he wore to your first date enveloping his figure, his messy hair reminding you of the many times you brushed your fingers through it in attempts to smooth it down. It’s only been two weeks since you last saw him, but it was starting to feel as if you forgot about him already and were now relearning all the things you once fell in love with again, looking at him in the same light, yet noticing him and all the small details a little bit differently. “Thanks, I… I actually, uh… I have your stuff here too, so if you want it back I’ll– I can just–”

“Y-yeah,” you nod, almost a little too eagerly, “that would be… cool,” you say, trying hard to ignore the fact that he had your stuff packed too, intending to give it to you, and the crashing reality that comes with it, telling you he was prepared to do this before you were and how it’s making you feel kind of shitty.

Mark moves further into the apartment, the sound of him dropping the box to the floor filling your ears before he’s back at the door in no time, a similar cardboard box in his hands that he offers to you with a tense smile on his face. “Wanted to bring it around so I had an excuse to see you, but you, uh… beat me to it, I guess…” 

Looking at him as you take the box out of his hands, gaze as if to tell him not to say such words to you when you’re still so fragile to his effect, you only nod and mutter out a simple “Thanks,” before you turn on your heel and intend to take the stairs back down.

“I’ll… see you around, then?” Mark calls after you as you take the first step out– something about it making you feel like it’s the first step out of his life, in a way– and you only nod, because one, you truly don’t know how else to reply to this question, and two, you really, really don’t know if you’ll ever see him again, but you can't bring yourself to say it to his face. Somehow, it would feel like torture to admit it– and you're not prepared for that reality just yet.

Rushing outside and getting into Jihoon's car, you almost feel like you’re on the verge of breaking, and when the male asks you how it went as he’s reversing out of the parking lot, you only bid him a one-word reply before you look through the box on your way home, too impatient to stay back from the memories.

And Jihoon didn’t really think this one through, because the fact that you gave Mark back the things that reminded you of him meant that he did the same, and now all the things you brought along to Mark’s apartment were in the cardboard box, all stained with countless memories and feelings attached to each and every single thing. The artwork you made for him, the little heart-shaped keychain you gave him for his birthday, the plant you gave him that was now long dead and dried out– those were once your stuff, but all in this world with the intention of love being sent out through them to your now ex-lover, and the fact that they’re in your possession again instead of his is not making letting go of Mark any easier. 

And maybe Mark was right and he truly was forgetful, because as you rummage through the contains of the box, while you find out your favorite blue socks are nowhere to be seen, surely still buried somewhere in the drawers of his closet, obliterated out of his memory, there’s a gray hoodie sitting at the bottom and it’s surely not yours– it’s his and it was always your favorite, and you always used to wear it at his place when you got cold or when you just really wanted to smell his cologne, and you suddenly don't know if it's presence in the box slipped his mind or if he truly left it there on purpose. 

Couldn’t he forget about that too?

Step three – block his number.

The third step comes into place after you accidentally slip out to Jihoon about the phone call you get on a Friday night– more like two hours into Saturday already– and now, most of all, you must admit that your best friend might be right about his advice.

Your phone starts ringing at 2:11 AM, and while you weren’t sleeping– you’ve been having some trouble with dozing off without being overbeared with thoughts lately– the name flashing on your screen shocks you for more reasons than one. 

Mark Lee calls you, three weeks after your breakup, in the middle of the night. You haven’t spoken since the time he gave you back your stuff, and even though you’ve done quite a bit of stalking on his social media, you have no news of him or his whereabouts. Naturally, a call from him in the middle of the night startles you and shakes you to the core. He has no reason to call you, so your brain does the math and concludes there must be an emergency– and god knows that even after being hurt by him, you could never ignore him and leave him hanging in a state of need.

So you pick up– with shaky hands and a raging heartbeat, expecting the worst. Listening to the other side of the line, you take a deep breath in and out, bracing yourself for the impact of the words you’re going to hear. The voice on the other side is laced with haziness and his tone is almost a little tired– worn out, even– when he finally greets you from wherever he is.

“Hi,” Mark says, and for a second, your heartbeat steadies itself and the world stops spinning– he sounds okay, and for a moment, you’re grateful to hear his voice.

Humming, as if to collect your thoughts, you clear your throat before you offer him an answer. “Hello,” you greet, “what’s- what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hear your voice,” he says, almost a little abruptly to your question. He doesn't overthink his answer and he doesn't give himself time to think if it's a good idea or not– he just blurts it out and now it's your problem to deal with, when it's there, out in the open. Your palms get sweaty and you start to lose feeling in your fingertips, making you take a few seconds to yourself to process the situation before you decide to finally answer to the strange sentence. 

“It’s late, Mark,” you mumble, and you involuntarily wonder if the sentence doesn’t have double meaning– it's too late for anyone to call at this hour, and at the same time, it’s been weeks since your ex boyfriend lost the privilege of listening to your voice when he can’t sleep in the middle of the night whenever he feels like it– and it’s now too late to do anything about it or make it any easier to deal with.

“Shit, sorry,” he chuckles to himself, and you suddenly recognise the laziness in his voice to be the effect of his and his best friend Hyuck’s Friday endeavors; the sweet coating of his voice being the effect of none other than the momentary bliss that comes with the relaxation of his body and mind when he's high. “Didn’t realize,” he concludes, making you shake your head at him in disbelief– not really mattering that he can’t see you in the act.

“‘s okay,” you mumble– and in your perfect reality, you hang up the phone now. In your perfect reality, you connect it to your charger and close your eyes, calling it a night. You fall asleep with no thoughts rummaging through your brain and wake up in the morning to a new sunny day, ready to take on the responsibilities of what’s to come, having productive days ended with smiles and a hot dinner you make for yourself just because you feel like it. In your perfect reality, you protect your own heart. This is not your perfect reality, though– and that’s why you stay on the line, listening to Mark ramble on the other side of the phone, intoxicated and slightly out of it. You wonder if he’ll remember calling you when he wakes up tomorrow. You wonder if he’ll regret it, or if he’ll just shrug his shoulders at the fact and go on with his day, not really paying you much thought when he’s sober.

“I was with Hyuck just now,” he says, and you hear the rustling of his sheets on the other side of the line, making you wonder if he’s washed up and ready for bed, “and– and I remembered how we all used to hang out together, y’know… you with us all– you always clicked with my friends and it was so cool and stuff… and I realized, right, they’re not as funny when you’re not around… but anyways… Jeno’s girlfriend asked about you, ‘cause she didn’t know…and telling her felt so silly, ‘cause they all kept looking at me and I knew they were pitying me, but it was my fault in the first place–”

“Mark–” 

“No, it’s true. And it’s cool, I don’t– I don’t blame you, or anything. I just… I dunno, I guess it got me wondering…”

The line goes silent on the other side, and you settle into your own bed, giving him time to continue. When he doesn’t say anything for a long time, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“You still there?”

“Yeah. How was your day?” he asks, tone of voice casual as ever, as if he’s forgotten about all the words he’s told you up until now–  as if it’s not 2 AM and both of your hearts aren’t breaking at the sound of each other’s voice on the other side of the line.

“It… it was okay, I guess,” you say nonetheless, too hopeless to find a way to end the conversation before he does. 

“That’s good to hear,” he says, sighing, “that’s… awesome. You still taking those yoga classes on Mondays?” he asks, and you snicker to yourself– because what kind of question even is that? Who asks that on a late night call, when there are more important things you two need to talk about?

“Yeah,” you lie, still. You haven’t been since the breakup.

“That’s great. Wouldn’t want you to… y’know,” he laughs to himself, “be too sad over this… ‘t was for the better, after all.”

You hear yourself hum– the noise way more stable than your actual words ever could be– and you find yourself feeling silly in the conversation, lying to your ex boyfriend through your teeth; because at the end of the day, you don’t want him to worry about you– because it seems to be the case that he is. And it’s stupid, because he hurt you and you shouldn’t care, maybe you should’ve even show him that you’re heartbroken and that he is the reason behind your pain and the way your life is falling apart, bit by bit, but you don’t find it in you to be so cold and heartless. At the end of the day, you still care about Mark and there’s nothing you could do about it. Turns out that breaking up with him doesn’t magically make the feelings go away– and you knew that, but now you have proof.

“What were you saying before, by the way? You… trailed off at the end,” you say, reminding him of his previous words.

“Oh, that,” he snickers into the microphone again, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he twists and turns in the sheets, “don’t worry about it. It was selfish of me.”

It was selfish of him to call in the first place. But you won’t tell him that.

“What was it?”

“It’s just… I was wondering if I lost you forever, y’know… if there was a chance we could ever…” he trails off again, but this time, you don’t bug him to complete it. You’re not stupid– you know the implication of his words. You’ve known him for a long time, after all– maybe you should’ve predicted this when you picked up the call.

“I mean…” you hum, “you didn’t lose me completely, if that’s– if that’s what’s keeping you up at night. We’re still friends, aren’t we?” you say, and in the corner of your brain, you can’t even believe the words yourself– but if it was selfish of him to call, you think it’s okay for you to selfishly fill both of you with empty promises, just for the sake of not breaking your heart even further.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “that’s– …I’m glad.”

The line’s silent after that, and you wonder if you two have used up the list of words to say to each other this time, if there’s truly no other answer at the end of this conversation. When the situation gets too much for you to bear, the heaviness finally settling on your shoulders and your chest, you finally find the courage to sniffle out a quiet goodbye.

“Good night, Mark.”

“G’night,” he drags out, mind still cloudy. “Love you,” spills out from his tongue, like a bad habit.

He ends the call before you get to say it back. Maybe that’s for the better.

And the truth is, you should’ve really listened to Park Jihoon and blocked Mark’s number after this encounter. But you didn’t– you’re too weak for Mark’s sweet words, finding yourself still hanging on to his saccharine voice and the muffled ramble he has reserved for you only every time he gets high and loses all self-control before calling you on Friday nights selfishly demanding your attention, somehow falling for him like a teenager over and over again despite promising yourself you're gonna move on for real now.

Step four – date someone new.

“So…” Jihoon starts one day, eyes glued to your skull like laser beams, the tone of his voice so incomprehensible you think he’s going to scold you for the actions of your previous days– even though you haven't told him about the midnight calls with Mark and so if he's not going through your phone, he has no way of knowing. Tense and nervous, still, knowing that the impact of his words could either heal you or cut you open like a knife– damn him for always being so brutally honest, no matter how soft his heart is for you– you smile at him with tight lips, crossing your arms on your chest in defense.

“So…?” 

A nervous laugh almost escapes your throat. If Jihoon wasn’t suspicious of you before, he surely is now– or he just finds you strange by the way he furrows his brows at you and scans you up and down, taking a second for himself before he sighs and seemingly decides to drop the weird way you’re acting right now, shaking his head and focusing on the task at hand.

“I was thinking… my friend asked about you,” he says, nonchalantly looking down onto his hands and taking the dirt out from behind his nails, as if it’s not a big deal and he doesn’t even care that much. “Choi Hyunsuk from Biology, you know him– shabby haircut, kinda short, failed the class so he has to retake it this year…?”

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that the two of us have completely different majors, Hoonie,” you sweetly smile at him with irony, making him roll his eyes with a sigh before he tries again.

“The guy who ripped his pants at Xiao Dejun’s party last year?”

“Oh, that one! You should’ve said that earlier, of course I remember Choi Hyunsuk from your Biology class,” you nod hurriedly, the gears finally clicking in your brain.

“As if I wasn’t talking about him for the last few minutes–”

“Okay, and what about him?” you cut him off, already tired of his annoying tangent.

“I said he asked about you.”

“I heard that already,” you nod, looking at him with expecting eyes. “And?”

Jihoon stares at you, unblinking, as if you fell on your head and he’s trying to comprehend if you’re still here with him or if you got a concussion and need to be transferred into a hospital. When the contact of his eyes on your skin gets a bit too uncomfortable– you swear his looks could actually kill someone, if he tried enough– you furrow your brows at him in confusion and shake your head in disbelief.

“Why are you staring at me like that, Park Jihoon?”

“Just tryna see if you’re really that stupid or if you’re just pretending,” he mutters under his nose before he sighs again– his favorite activity whenever you’re around, it seems– and speaks up again, tone of voice reminding you of a kindergartener teacher trying to explain why it gets dark in the evening to a bunch of 4 year olds. “You know, when people ask about you, they are usually interested in you, as in, my friend Hyunsuk didn’t ask because you’re nice, but because you’re hot, if you know what I'm getting onto.”

“Oh,” you get out, eyes wide in concern and a little shaken-up, “well, that’s… nice of him, I guess.”

Jihoon only hums at you before he looks around himself and brings out the bag of chips that he left open by his right side only a few seconds ago, not really speaking more about the topic. It’s either he’s waiting for you to get what he’s hinting at, or he’s just waiting for you to get even more confused and ask him about it in a few seconds again– either way, he’s not the one doing more talking right now, because conversations with you, the most oblivious person he’s ever seen, are never productive if he goes too fast.

Chewing on the chips, his eyes go wide when you finally open your mouth and talk more about the topic at hand– just like he predicted. “Why are you telling me this?”

Your best friend swallows before he places the bag of chips back to its original place and turns his whole body so he’s facing you, speaking up again. “I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, you’d like to hang out with him. Like a date, before you ask– because I know you’re gonna ask– and why? – because, again, I know you’re gonna ask– because I simply think you should try to date again to get your mind off the loser you broke up with two months ago,” he says, blunt and honest, answering all of your unsaid questions at once, and before you know it, he has you snickering and shaking your head in disapproval.

“Absolutely not,” you retort, waving your hands in the air to only further show your disagreement with the proposition, “that would just be a massive catastrophe.”

“Why? Hyunsuk’s nice.”

“I didn’t say he isn’t, it’s just…”

“Just?” he probes you, eyebrows raised and questioning.

“I… don’t know,” you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek, aimlessly shrugging. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Jihoon.”

“Because of Mark?” he asks, and the moment his name escapes your best friend’s mouth, the whole room goes strangely quiet– you feel your heartbeat in your throat, the tips of your fingers start tingling and you swear that if you concentrate hard enough, you could feel a bead of sweat drip down your forehead with the incoming stress and nerves only the mention of your ex boyfriend brings you.

“No, that’s not it–”

“Sure,” he nods, sighing to himself– and there it is again, the judging look you so despise.

“You can’t just expect me to date other people a few weeks after my break up, Jihoon,” you exclaim, “that– that wouldn’t even be fair to your friend. You know I wouldn’t be invested,” you explain, and your friend rolls his eyes in frustration, sighing to himself.

“Oh but I know that! And Hyunsuk does too,” he shakes his head at you, “just thought the company of someone else could take your mind off things.”

“I have you,” you try.

“Yeah, but all we do when we’re together is mope about Mark Lee,” Jihoon snickers, “and don’t get me wrong, I’m more than open to bitch about your ex boyfriend and as your best friend, I don’t mind, but the fact that you’d be hanging out with someone else could take your mind off him, because you wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about him with someone else, y’know?”

You shut your eyes closed, a heavy sigh heaving out of your body as you try hard to concentrate and not lose it, and with how Jihoon’s tone gets softer and he’s not as loud with his brutal, yet logical advice, he must feel you getting overwhelmed and accommodates to your needs. “Look, it’s gonna be fun. I promise. Hang out with someone new, feel wanted and hot and pretty again, get some male attention that’s not your ex boyfriend, and you’ll see how it makes you feel. If you hate it, you hate it and you can slap me, I don’t know... If you don’t, you can keep dating around with my friends, and I swear I’ll hook you up only with the nice ones,” he takes your hand into his and waves it around in comfort, making you open your eyes and look at him again.

Seeing the softness and encouragement in your best friend’s eyes, you sigh to yourself. All this time, he’s tried to help you– what if you finally follow his advice? Who knows, it might even help. 

Sighing, you squeeze his palm and hover over him to get the stranded bag of chips he’s guarding on the other side of the sofa. “Fine,” you mutter, “but let your friend know that he’s the one paying, okay?”

“Perfect. I'll text him your number, then.“

And maybe Jihoon was right and after dolling yourself up and dressing up in your favorite dress just so you would feel as comfortable as possible, you don’t feel as bad when his friend Hyunsuk picks you up in his white Volvo and chats with you on the way to the restaurant. He makes good small talk and even gets a giggle out of you, the music in his car is low and you find yourself slowly easing into the situation. You don’t remember when the last time you went out with a guy that wasn’t Mark was, but it’s surprisingly nice. 

And Jihoon was right– you feel pretty. And when Hyunsuk opens the door for you after pulling up to the parking lot of the restaurant, you even feel wanted. You like the attention, just like any other girl would, and the smile you offer to your date seeps of tender shyness as you get out of the comfortable seat of his car. 

The illusion, though, is soon broken as you notice the restaurant he pulled up to. Your smile freezes, your palms get sweaty and you feel your heartbeat rummaging against your ribcage as soon as the idle atmosphere of the restaurant opens up before you. And realistically, you could turn on your heel and get back to the car, tell Hyunsuk that you want to go to another restaurant– but you don’t do it, against your biggest wishes, because you worry that the boy already made a reservation and you don’t want to ruin an evening that’s going well so far.

“Everything alright?” your date checks up on you, seemingly noticing the frown on your face, and when his worried eyes meet yours, it’s sealed– you’d feel too bad for pulling out of the date now. So you only do what you always do best– you put on your best relaxed smile and nod, catching up to him and ensuring him that you’re all okay and you didn’t just talk yourself out of an anxiety attack. 

Because you owe it to him and to Jihoon– both of them worked so hard to make you feel happy and help you to get over your ex boyfriend. It’s not Hyunsuk’s fault that he just managed to pick the restaurant your said ex boyfriend works at part-time. He had no way of knowing, and if you’re lucky enough, Mark wouldn’t be on today. He only works here part-time, it’s not like he’s here every day, and as far as you’re concerned, he only worked like two or three days a week when you dated. It would be a weird coincidence for him to be working the day you go there with your new date– you hope you’re not that unlucky.

Hyunsuk is a gentleman. Opening up doors for you, pulling out the chair for you, letting you talk and not interrupting you. He watches you with fond eyes and you almost try to feel bad for the fact that even if this ended well, the poor boy would just end up being a rebound. He deserves so much more, and you start to worry if this date was a good idea after all. Wasn’t it selfish of you to agree to this? 

“What do you want to get?” he asks as you open up the menu, and you squint at the prices, mentally taking a note to order the cheapest thing just in case he wants to pay for you at the end of the evening. 

“Spaghetti Bolognese,” you blurt out, despite it not being your favorite meal. Hyunsuk just stares at you with squinted eyes, but doesn’t disagree with you. After all, he has no way of knowing that you dislike the taste of the sauce in most restaurants– even though your conscience tells you that Mark knew that and always made sure to remind you about it before ordering for you, worried that you won’t get to eat much that evening– the only thing left to hope is that it tastes good in this particular place. 

“Okay, sure,” he nods and puts the menu down, smiling at you before engaging in a comfortable conversation with you. It feels like you’ve known Hyunsuk forever– his personality oddly reminding you of Jihoon’s caused mainly by the fact that the two have grown up together. Everything flows soundly, but you still find yourself anxiously picking at your cuticles as you cautiously look around the restaurant, fearing the fact that you could catch a glimpse of your ex boyfriend at any second.

And maybe you should be a psychic, because those bad feelings were not there for nothing– when you see a waiter walking out of the back and eyeing your table, ready to get your order, the boy is a few inches taller than your current date, raven hair messy, but still a little styled, dark circles under the man’s eyes, and there he is– your ex boyfriend. Mark Lee halts in his movements, wearing his work uniform, eyes wide, a hint of something that breaks you at least in two mirroring in his orbs before he turns on his heel and disappears in the back again. When he doesn’t come back and his co-worker joins you and Hyunsuk at your table with a warm smile, you stop waiting to see the glimpse of him you selfishly desired to catch despite fearing the interaction the whole evening.

You want to fall through the floor and disappear in the depths of this earth. For some reason, you feel mortified. What would he think? And why do you even care about his feelings? A million different thoughts run through your brain and you worry that you’re being too distant from your current date, but Hyunsuk’s warm eyes reassure you that he doesn’t mind. 

Piercing the food on your table with your eyes, you try to battle the noisy words running around your brain. 

It’s easy to say you’re over someone when you don’t see them. To have them in front of you, meet their gaze and acknowledge their existence and still be able to nod and say that you’ve moved on, is something completely different. 

Were you ever convinced that you were over Mark Lee in the first place, though?

After all of this– the months of following Jihoon’s advice, although making a few mishaps along the way as you continue to pick up Mark’s calls on Friday nights, snoop around his socials and let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t, overthinking everything and making you wish the relationship never ended in the first place– it’s time for the last step of it all. The last, most crucial part of this whole moving on process– the most important one, if you may.

Step five – avoid him at all costs.

Sounds easy, right? After the four previous steps, you’d already cried plenty about the lost months with your ex-boyfriend. You’d already given him back all of his stuff, not tying yourself to him with any material memory. You’d already gone on a date with someone new, choosing to distract yourself instead of letting yourself feel the emotions. After all the previous steps, this one’s supposed to be the easiest one. The one you’re supposed to want to do, after all. The break-up wasn’t messy, but it was still painful– it’s only natural for you to not want to see Mark ever again, right?

Wrong.

Because you never listen to the advice you’re given. That just wouldn’t be you, would it?

And so when Mark Lee calls you one day and tells you that he has a free train ticket to the Bukhansan stop, explaining that he was supposed to go hike there with Donghyuck who canceled on him last minute because of an assignment due midnight, you don’t really hesitate much before you shoot him a short text saying that you’re down and get ready for the short hike. 

When you meet your ex boyfriend at the station, his figure slightly slouched up until the moment his eyes meet yours, you feel the quiet tension in the air. You’ve seen each other a few times before this meeting– on a party you went to with Jihoon, at the campus when you went to class one morning, your ex boyfriend walking you towards the Art building, hell, you’ve even met in the grocery store, all accidental and making your heart leap in your chest with tension. This time, though, you’re here completely intentionally, just to hang out with him, and something about the fact makes a dull pain shoot all through your intestines, a sensation so uncomfortable you try to hide with a tight-lipped smile. 

“Ready for the hike?” he asks, adjusting the bag on his back, playing with the straps with clammy fingers. You can’t help but notice how he looks just like a little boy, in his little world, shielded from everything. He seems to have taken a protective stance, and you hate how the air between you shifted from how you two used to be when you were dating. Mark seems scared. Nervous. On top of his feet. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this at all.

You’re already here, though. Turning around and leaving wouldn’t really work right now, as you take a step towards the train that’s just arrived, humming to your ex boyfriend in agreement. Taking a seat on the place Mark’s pointed to you on the train ticket, you try to loosen up your muscles and get as comfortable as you can, clearing your mind as you gaze outside of the window.

“How have you been?” he asks, clearing his throat.

Pressing your lips into a tight line, you turn to him as you search for an answer. “Better,” you nod, voice quiet. “You?”

Mark hums, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Good, good,” he lies through his teeth, “I’ve seen you at the restaurant the other day,” he hints, and you battle the sigh that’s begging to cut out of your throat. You don’t know where he’s going with the sentence. It’s not a question– only a proposition, barely even that– and you could ignore it with a nod of your head, you could pay it no mind as you see the bitterness in his gaze and the slightly self-conscious averting of his stare. You don’t know where he’s going with the conversation, but frankly, you don’t know where you are going with your answer either, as you shrug to him in a casual manner and peep under your breath.

“Yeah,” you say, “that was just… Jihoon’s friend from uni, I suppose,” you complete, and the sentence hints at nothing– it doesn’t clear out the confusion, it doesn’t outright say anything that could make Mark believe that it was just a casual hang-out with a friend, but still, you see the boy visibly relax as he nods to you and offers you a tight-lipped smile.

“Oh,” he hums, looking out of the window, past the profile of your face. The change in topic is sudden and sharp, but also welcome as he falls into a casual conversation with you, and suddenly, you’re reminded by the Mark you once knew– the guy you’ve once called not socially awkward, but so social that it’s awkward– as he talks to you about his day and rambles on about the weather. “It’s good that it won’t rain today, I bet the view will be nice.”

Locking your gaze with him for a brief second, you lick your lips and point your eyes towards the ground. It’s good that it won’t rain today, as opposed to last time you two went to the Bukhansan trail. You wonder if he remembers.

Before you have a chance to mention it– and in all reality, you won’t, no matter how bold you could be feeling at the moment– the train comes to a stop at your station and you hop out of the carriage, ready for the hike.

It’s easy to forget how messed up things have gotten between the two of you when you walk alongside with your ex boyfriend, laughing at his silly jokes and gasping at everything he shows to you with a pointed finger, finding yourself admiring the sound of his giggle when he spots a squirrel pass your path somewhere near the top of the hill. The trail is almost empty at this hour, since the two of you have decided to go in the late afternoon, and you find your soul to finally be at peace after so many weeks, you finally feel relaxed in the nature, one with the wind and the gentle sound of birds chirping lullying your running thoughts to a rest. 

You realize that this is just what you needed all this time. You needed to get out and walk for some while, to tune out yourself and to accept the fact that you’re still here, for another day, and something about that is still a blessing. Watching the back of Mark’s head as he walks a step in front of you due to the narrowness of the trail in this area, you smile to yourself. It’s easy to forget just how much you were hurt by him when he heals your soul with such a simple gesture. It’s easy to forget you were hurt when he seemingly tries to put all the broken pieces back together, glue them to where they were in the first place, when things were easier and you both didn’t have so many things to worry about. 

You reach the top just as the sun starts setting over the horizon, and there are only a few people scattered across the peak, sitting on their own picnic blankets and gazing into the distance. The hues of the sky paint the world in a different color, the oranges, pinks and muted purples playing with your heartstrings as you come to a halt and crouch down and feel the presence of another soul mirror your actions only a meter away to your right, his gaze glued to your side. The view is beautiful, but the feeling of being watched isn’t ignorable anymore, and so you turn to your companion and raise your eyebrows at him, wondering if he has something to say.

You don’t know how you’ll be able to come back to your life after this and pretend you still don’t want to spend every passing second with the man on your right. You don’t know how you’re supposed to ignore the ever so growing love for him– even though after being so disappointed with the past, the feelings should be decreasing, not doing the opposite– and frankly, you don’t even want to think of going back to the way it’s been for the past few months. And so you don’t– you allow yourself to indulge the moment, to ignore the pain that’s about to come, just so you could hold another beautiful memory to your heart and enjoy the moment before it hurts you to think of it tomorrow morning. 

“It’s even more beautiful than the last time,” Mark hums, but his eyes never leave your figure– if you were still dating, you bet he’d come out with a cheesy line about how you’re prettier than the view, or something. “It didn’t rain this time around, thank god.”

Gazing at him, you shake your head in disbelief. Scoffing, you play with the grass between your fingers. “You remember that?”

“Yeah,” he hums, “I remember a lot of things.”

The sentence makes you bitterly chuckle. He knows why you’re reacting the way you are– and you have every right to. He claims to remember a lot of things, but the ones important to you, the ones you wanted him to remember, he failed to save into his memory. And that’s eventually what made you break up with him, at the end of it all.

At your reaction, he sighs and drags a hand across his face, seemingly realizing the weight of his own words and just how ridiculous he must have sounded to you right now. 

“I- That-” he stutters, shaking his head, “that sounded stupid right now, considering… everything… Didn’t it?”

“Kind of,” you nod, not wanting to meet his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, voice suddenly raw and serious, so different to the tone he’s been using with you the whole afternoon, “I don’t- I can’t remember if I said that back then, when you- when you… broke up with me, but I really am sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that, and I am in no way shape or form trying to make this about me, but I hate myself every day for the way things turned out and if I could go back to that day, I’d do so many things differently.”

The sky in front of you deepens in reds and you taste iron on your tongue, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you’ve managed to bite on your lip too hard in the midst of the conversation. Tearing out stems of grass with your clammy fingertips, you focus on the clouds running through the sky, calculating your next response.

“Okay,” you nod, not giving him much else. The answer perfectly encapsulates the way you feel on the inside right now– you don’t know if you’re ready to accept his apology, if you’re ready to let go of it and act like you weren’t hurt or that none of it ever happened, but you listened to him and you internalized his words. He is sorry. He knows he was in the wrong. And you were aware that he knew all of this before– hell, you’d even go as far as say he knew it the moment you knocked on his door that day and told him it was over– but hearing it from him surely moved something inside of you to a more comfortable place.

“I-” he starts, voice breaking making him clear his throat before he continues, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. And I know I shouldn’t have expected you to still be my friend after all of this, and that- I shouldn’t have even called you so many times and approached you at the store and stuff, but um-” he mumbles, shrugging to himself, “I guess I just couldn’t stay away from you. And again, I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t expect you to do anything, really. So… yeah…”

Snickering at his aimless monologue, you shake your head in disbelief. “Mark?”

“Yeah?” he stares at you, eyes a bottomless pool of emotion.

“Why did you invite me here today? What was the… point, I guess?” you ask, hugging your knees to your chest as the breeze makes goosebumps appear all over your body. 

Mark offers you a sad smile, head leaned to his right as he shrugs, and this time, his eyes don’t leave yours as he spills the truth into the air. “I guess I was just feeling selfish today,” he hums, and the sentence makes you cringe with the memory of his first call to you after your break up, “wanted to spend time with you.”

“Here, of all places?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “told you. I was feeling selfish.”

Snickering, you look away, staring at the sky again. The colors are starting to blend together into a deep, dark purple– the horizon darkening as the sun starts to say its final goodbyes to the day. You sigh to yourself, yet feel no bitterness or terror at his words. Somehow, you understand. Somehow, you get him a little too well. Somehow, you think you knew the moment he texted you today, and somehow, you think you felt it in your bones when you didn’t say no, although you could have. There’s calmness in your soul when you nod at the implication of his words, leaning back on your elbows and plopping your bottom to the ground, sitting at the dusty surface. 

“You said you didn’t expect anything out of me today, Mark.”

“And I don’t,” he says, voice soft. 

“And you brought me here to remind me of the last time we went?” you stare at him, a hint of a bitten-back smile playing with your lips. “Because you’re selfish?” 

He nods, not escaping your gaze. “To remind you of the last time we went. To show you that… I remember, I guess. And that I still care, just like the last time. If not more.”

“Mark, you can’t just say all of this and expect nothing out of me right now,” you mutter.

“Actually, I can. Because that’s what I’m doing. I’m just… laying it out in the open, and what you do with the information is completely, completely up to you,” he explains, and you find yourself chuckling at him, the atmosphere instantly lighter as you hear his voice in its usual casualness, talking to you as if he was just unpacking what went on in class today, and not the starting and the end of your one year relationship.

And he’s right. What you do with the information is completely up to you, and the next steps and the progress of your relationship with Mark Lee is also completely in your hands. You could turn away and never talk to him again, you could curse at him and tell him that it’s too late now and he missed his chance, but if that was the case, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. He wouldn’t be inviting you to this place, lying about his roommate canceling just to trick you into going, and you wouldn’t be blindly accepting the invitation, wanting to see where the afternoon brings you. 

“So you still care about me?” you hum, looking at him from under your eyelashes, noticing his slouched-over pose as he looks back at you over his shoulder.

“Always have,” he admits, “never stopped. Despite not really… acting like it in the past few months.”

“Why’d you stop acting like it, then?” you ask.

A sigh escapes his lips, his head turning forward before he leans back and sits cross-legged on the ground, more comfortably now. Shrugging, he answers the question. “I guess I just got too caught up with different things. And don’t get me wrong, you were always my priority, always, but I was all over the place with everything and my mind just couldn’t… there were too many things to keep up with and I couldn’t stay up to date with everything,” he says, “and I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation, and it doesn’t make it better or undo the pain I’ve caused you, but it’s… at least you know it was never because I’d care about you any less.”

His eyes bear into yours with such honesty you think the weight of the world will crash on you any minute, and suddenly, the whole situation seems so much clearer.

And you wouldn’t take it back, you wouldn’t undo the breakup or do anything differently, because at the end of the day, you think it was needed. Perhaps the time apart was what he needed as a wake up call and what you needed to shield yourself from hurting more. 

“Stop me from saying it if you… if you don’t want to hear it right now,” he hums, voice barely louder than a whisper. There seems to be a silent communication between the two of you, a connection of some sort that brings out the strange telepathy, but you just nod at him, a gentle smile playing with your lips as you understand exactly what he means, telling him that it’s okay and that you don’t mind– you welcome, you need to hear him say it again.

Licking his lips, he turns to you fully, facing you. There’s not a hint of nervousness in his body, having done this a lot of times before, and then it happens– the repeated confession, confirming what was there the whole time, never leaving even when the times were rough. 

“I love you,” he says.

And isn’t that all that’s needed? 

A year is a long time with someone. Somehow, you wouldn’t want the time to go to waste. At the end of the day, if love is still present, isn’t it worth trying? One more time?

“And you still don’t expect anything from me?” you ask, gazing at him softly. “You don’t expect me to say it back?”

“No,” he breathes out, shrugging. “I just needed to get it off my chest.”

“Because you’re selfish like that,” you nod, teasing him. 

“Because I’m selfish like that,” he agrees, breaking out into a slight grin.

Looking at the sky, now completely dipped in dark purple, you sigh to yourself at the turmoil of the conversation. You don’t say it back– although you feel it, you know it’s in there, playing with your heartstrings and clenching the muscle in the palm of its hand– you know love is there, deep inside, for the man that’s currently staring at you as if you hung the very stars appearing on the sky there yourself, stolen them from your own eyes and gluing them there selflessly, for everyone to see. You don’t tell him you love him back, you don’t tell him you forgive him or accept his apology. You don’t worry about what tomorrow will bring you, what your brain is going to tell you when you come down from the hill and get home, lay in your bed and overthink. You let the worries escape you, letting fondness and calm envelope you in a tight hug instead.

“Okay,” you nod, watching the boy next to you look at you with curious eyes. You take his hand into yours and place it on your thigh, playing with his fingers for a heartbeat before you meet his eyes again and smile. “I won’t say it back, but for all it’s worth, Mark… I’m glad you remembered.”

And that’s all he needs– there is love, there is fondness, and there is the silent confirmation that all you need right now is just a bit more time. 

Where do broken hearts go?

Somehow, you think they hold on to the place where it all started. Somehow, you think your heart never went anywhere– it stayed on this hill, waiting for you to pay it a visit and pick back up everything right from where you left it.

“It doesn’t seem like a good idea to go here today, Y/N,” Mark laughed behind you as he looked up to the sky, the dark clouds shielding the sun that had been previously shining down on your hiking figures, casting an orange glow on the strands of your hair. 

“Well, there’s no turning back now,” you shrugged, turning to him and grinning as you tugged on his hand, grip strong as you dragged the boy up the trail, your sneakers fast against the dirty ground. “We have finals starting next week and it’s gonna be too cold to go after the exam season is over, so we gotta go now.”

“I kind of regret telling you that I’ve never been here before now,” Mark sighed, but followed you nonetheless, breathlessly following your excited stride. It was October, the leaves on the trees were welcoming the two of you in shining colors, and the wind kissing your skin turned a bit chilly in the evenings– courtesy of the warm hoodie Mark shyly lended you when you shivered for the first time, adoring the way you, his friend, looked in the light gray fabric. Something about you wearing his clothes made the boy a bit hopeless about the day. Maybe he’ll have enough courage to confess his feelings to you, he thought. Maybe, despite the first raindrops falling on the skin of his bare arms, this evening will have a happy ending for you and him. 

“Oh, please,” you squinted at him, continuing to run up the hill– thank god it wasn’t that steep, serving both of you as the perfect hiking difficulty, “even if you wouldn’t have, I’d drag you here anyway. It’s like, my favorite place to go in Seoul, haven’t I told you before?”

You have, Mark thought. But he was okay with hearing it again. 

You squealed when the raindrops got heavier and the rain started pouring faster on the two of you, and Mark found himself laughing at your running figure. He was right behind you, praying that you don’t slip on one of the rocks and break your leg on the hiking trail, but he encouraged you with sweet comments and a hand on the small of your back as he watched the tip of the hill appear right in front of his very eyes, your body coming to a satisfied halt when you reached your destination.

“Tada!” you grinned at him, twirling a little like a ballerina, showing him the place with outstretched arms. He tried hard to observe the place, but his eyes stayed glued to your excited figure, gaze bearing into yours as you looked at him, amidst a little flustered, with sparkly orbs and a bright smile on your face. Your hair was a mess, his gray hoodie enveloping your body was slowly growing darker in color from absorbing the rain, and your sneakers were getting a bit muddy from walking around the place. He wanted to remember this moment forever, he thought– this version of you, the smiley expression on your face, the carefree and excited nature of your step. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?” you exclaimed, jumping around and nearing the boy, but as you went to take his hand to drag him around the top of the hill once more, your feet slipped and you fell forward, a surprised squeak battling its way out of your throat.

Your whole life flashed in front of your very eyes in that moment, embarrassment spreading down your neck at the fact that you were about to fall face first onto the ground in front of your crush of a few months, before your body collided with a soft, yet firm mass engulfing you closer. A pair of strong arms steadied you against his chest, and when you looked up at your friend, you swear all words were taken out of your dictionary, the sight leaving you speechless.

“It is,” he gaped, eyes bearing into yours. Mark was agreeing with you, but something in the back of your head was telling you that he didn’t really admire this place as much as you did– his curious gaze was always plastered somewhere completely else. 

That place being your face, of course. And your eyes, your cheeks, the mess of your bangs, and occasionally– screw that, almost always– your lips. Much like in that moment, a few centimeters away from his face, so inviting he thought it would be a crime to contain the urge. 

And so he didn’t– he didn’t control his feelings and the ever-so growing yearning for you, as he silently leaned towards your face and captured his lips with yours in a firm, yet short kiss.

He looked at you with a nervous tint behind his gaze when he leaned away, the sight of your wide eyes staring at him making a slight flush grow on his cheeks. You looked so beautiful in that moment– flustered, surprised, with messy hair and lips still apart– and he was relieved to not find a hint of a displeased emotion in your expression. 

“Okay, so- well-” you stuttered, laughing to yourself, “this didn’t go as I planned, but I guess I’m happy as long as the final result is the same,” you hummed, standing on your tippy-toes and pressing your lips against him once more, this time letting yourself enjoy the moment fully, mouth moving against his in a careful, yet excited rhythm. He tasted like the strawberry candy you offered him on the bottom of the trail and smelled a bit like rain, the mixture always staying in the depths of your mind as his warmth enveloped you in comfort and a feeling of home.

“The final result being…?” he asked when you pulled apart once again, a dazed expression overtaking his sharp features.

“Us,” you shrugged, “like this,” you clarified.

Mark laughed at that, hugging you closer to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, listening to the sound of raindrops washing away the top layer of dirt off the rocks on the tip of the hill, hands sneaking around his waist and enjoying the way they wrapped around him so tightly and so comfortably. You in his hoodie, in your favorite place, standing in his arms. It was raining, but it didn’t matter.

“Mark?” 

“Hm?” 

“If we ever get lost, or something happens… bring me back here, okay?” you mumbled close to his ear, lips gently glazing the skin of his ear, making goosebumps appear all over your new lover. “I’m convinced that this place could fix everything.”

“Even us?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not allowed to ever leave me now, what would there be to fix between us?” you smacked his shoulder, snickering to yourself.

“You never know,” he laughed, “what if I accidentally mess up somewhere along the way?” he asked, threading his fingers through your hair, smoothing down the wet mess.

“Okay then,” you hummed, “even us.”

Staring into your eyes, letting the moment play out by itself, Mark swore he’s never felt more at peace. He wondered if it was the effect of the place, the rain, or just your sheer presence.  “I’ll remember that,” he giggled before he let go of your body, petting your head as he took a hold of your hand, tugging you down from where you came from, “now let’s go home before we catch a cold.”

Nodding, following the man as you both carefully, yet fastly made it down the trail, you enjoyed the way his hand fit into yours and the way you knew that after this, you can’t ever come back to being friends with Mark Lee. He was all yours, completely, utterly yours, and you knew in the back of your head, that you were his– and nothing will ever change that.

You would always come back to the hill with him. It felt ridiculous to think about you two ever having to fix anything between the two of you back then, but even in that moment, you knew that for him, you’d keep trying. As long as he does– as long as he remembers.

Where do broken hearts go? You guess they always come right back to the place they come from– and they leave glued back together every single time.

You guess your heart never really left the hill.

#bjnet #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #mark #mark lee #nct dream x reader #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #mark lee x reader #mark lee angst #mark lee fluff #mark angst #mark fluff #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 angst #nct 127 fluff #mark lee oneshot #mark oneshot #nct oneshot #nct dream oneshot #nct 127 oneshot

[guilty-pleasures21]

Hii i have an idea for part 3 of interrogation w/ Jason!! SO the roleplay thing could be Red Hood (pretending he's high on sex pollen) with an innocent!reader who he's had a crush on for AGES

Basically him being all like "You're the reason this is hurting so much (referring to his hard-on), don't you wanna help your friend feel better? I'll only feel better if you do it..." And X doesn't know anything about sex so she's like "=) Okay I'll help!" basically gets tricked into fucking him

but this is just a random thot k u dont have to like it :)

(also can I be 🐺anon?)

Hooooooooh! I kept having to take breaks while writing this, because it is SO. F**KING. SPICY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

@🐺anon, you are my new hero. I hope I have successfully managed to bring your dirty little fantasies to life and I also personally hope to hear from you again soon because BABE?! ⁉️⁉️ This was AMAZING!!!

Sex pollen with innocent best friend

Jason Todd tricking his best friend he's been in love with for AGES into having sex with him.

Warnings: explicit description of sex including blowjob (f & m receiving), penetration (p in v) and Jason taking advantage of his best friend's innocence. No age gap, but manipulation is involved.

---------------------------------------------------------

     He stood on his best friend's balcony, heavy pants shaking his chest as the arousal flooded his body. F*cking sex pollen. Why the hell would Ivy even need something like that?! Argh! It didn't matter. Right now, all that mattered was that he find some way to relieve himself. Some way that maybe involved his unfairly gorgeous best friend he'd been in love with for … He couldn't even remember a time he hadn't been pining after her. Jason knocked on the glass door and his heart stuttered in his chest when he saw X's small figure rushing over to him.

     Red Hood?! The Red Hood was at her balcony door?! But, oh, he didn't look too good.

     “Mr Hood?” She reached up to place a hand on his brawny shoulder and her brows furrowed with concern as she looked up at him. “Is everything all right?” 

     F*ck! Did she have to be so f*cking cute?! Calling him ‘Mr Hood’ while she gazed up at him with those beautiful eyes of hers, the irises so dark that they reflected the entire night sky in them. He bent over as another wave of arousal hit him, his d*ck starting to throb painfully now that he could smell her sweet strawberry scent. “I'm … I need some … Do you think you could help me out … princess?”

     She was right: it was Jason. The Red Hood was the best friend that she'd had a crush on for ages, but always been too insecure to do anything about. He was the Red Hood, after all, why would he ever choose her over the hundreds of beautiful women falling all over themselves to spend just one night with him? “O-Okay.” 

     She stepped aside to allow him entry into her flat, then locked the balcony door and pulled the curtains shut behind him. But he didn't call anyone else ‘princess’, she argued with herself. He didn't show up to anyone else's place when he was hurt, when he was vulnerable and had absolutely no choice but to depend on someone else for help. She turned to him and tilted her head in question, waiting for him to explain what was wrong. 

     He wanted to rip all her clothes off and murmur filthy things in her ear, then watch the blush crawl up her cheeks as he ate her out. She was just so innocent, so sweet and so ready for him to just eat her up. He winced as his c*ck gave another twitch at the thought. “I … Some chemical … from Ivy.”

     That wasn't good. X took a step closer to him, her heartbeat quickening with anxiety at all the horrible possibilities. “What does it do? Can I help?” 

     This was it. All those filthy daydreams he'd ever had about her, all those restless nights spent tossing and turning in his bed, trying to imagine what she'd feel like in his arms, they were finally going to come true. But only if he could control himself long enough to convince her to take her f*cking clothes off. “It's … It's not dangerous. But it hurts.”

     “Where does it hurt?” Jason placed a hand on his abdomen, then gradually moved it lower, until he landed on his crotch. X's eyes widened in surprise. 

     “Oh!” she gasped before glancing away from him in embarrassment. “Um, how … What should I do?” 

     She wasn't sure what he meant by it ‘hurting’, but she hated the thought of him being in pain, of him panting and wincing as he tried to hide it from her.

     “Can you … Can you massage it? A little?” His c*ck resumed its throbbing at the idea and he hissed at the sensation. How the f*ck could he be so aroused that it physically hurt?! What the hell was the point of having a poison that could do that?! He was going to f*cking murder Ivy after this. Well, maybe he'd thank her first, if she managed to turn all his fantasies about f*cking his lovely little best friend into a reality. But then he’d definitely still murder her after. 

     X gulped at the suggestion. She’d never even seen a penis before let alone touched one! But if it would help … 

     “I can try?” She lowered herself to her knees and reached a hand to his waistband, but stopped before she could grab it. “Do you … Do you need to take your pants off?” 

     “F*ck, yes,” Jason breathed, undoing his belt and zip. It was that easy?! Shit, he should have pretended to be high on this ‘sex pollen’ ages ago!Maybe then he wouldn’t have wasted so much time trying to figure out how to confess his feelings to her. He ripped his pants and underwear off and kicked them aside, finally allowing his already erect c*ck to spring free. 

     “Wow!” X squeaked in surprise. He was so big and so hard, his c*ck twitching and throbbing as it begged for relief. X looked up at him, embarrassed by her naive response. “W-What … How should I start?"

     Shit, shit, shit! She was so f*cking gorgeous, her almond-shaped eyes all wide and round with innocence as she gazed up at him. He cupped her cheek in his hand and pressed down on her lower lip with his thumb, then sucked in a breath when she parted her lips for him.

     “You’re going to want to lubricate it first, sweetheart,” he advised her, his breath catching in his throat at the thought of her rosy lips closing around his c*ck. “Just so you don’t rub the skin raw or anything.” X nodded slowly, then turned her attention back to his c*ck. She dug her fingers into his thighs as she swallowed hard, her heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and excitement.

     “O-Okay,” she agreed. “Should I … What can I put on it?” She turned back up to him in question and he growled at the innocent look on her face. He tipped her chin up, guiding her mouth to his c*ck. 

     “Just use your tongue, baby. Your saliva should be good enough.” She glanced back at his d*ck as he brushed his thumb along her cheek. Was that … allowed? Wasn’t it kind of dirty for her to suck on her best friend’s c*ck? Even if he was kind of in a lot of pain right now. But … it wasn’t like it counted as sex, right? That was when you penetrated the other person. At least, that was what she understood of it anyway. So maybe it was all right? She opened her mouth as he took hold of his c*ck, letting him slide it onto her tongue before she closed her lips around it. 

     “F*ck!” He shuddered as she began sucking on his d*ck, her movements slow and careful. She was so cute, her pretty little mouth staying close to his tip, barely able to take him in any further. But shit, it felt good - so f*cking good - having her warm tongue swipe across his slit and trace the veins along his shaft. He tilted her face up to his, wanting to see her pretty eyes peeking up at him from beneath her long, dark lashes as she suckled on his d*ck and he swore he almost came undone at the sight. “Just like that, sweetheart. Just like that, baby. You’re doing such a good job for me, princess, such a good massage.” 

     But she hadn’t even gotten to the massage part yet - this was just supposed to be the lubrication step, right? She tried to remind him of that - tried to speak around his c*ck that was currently stuffed in her mouth - but her words just came out a mess of muffled moans. Jason’s eyes rolled back in pleasure at the sound - at the fact that his d*ck was filling up her mouth so nicely that she couldn’t even speak! - and he grabbed onto the back of her head to slide her faster along his length.

     He was too big, too much, and she felt herself choking a little as his tip bounced against the back of his throat. But he seemed to like that, if the euphoric groans falling from his mouth were anything to go by. He pulled her hard against him and she tried to swallow - an involuntary response - but was stopped by the bulk of his d*ck laying in her mouth. 

     “F*ck,” Jason groaned, his mind going numb with pleasure at the feeling of her trying to swallow around his d*ck. Shit, it was so f*cking good that it wasn’t long before he was spilling into her mouth, his sticky c*m dripping down her tongue and along the back of her throat. X sputtered, caught off guard, and Jason finally released her so that she could pull her head back. His best friend looked up at him in confusion, wiping away the mixture of c*m and saliva spilling out of her mouth. F*ck, she looked so pretty like that, he wanted to just rip his helmet off and kiss her. But he couldn’t do that, because then she’d know who he really was. And then she’d definitely stop, excruciating pain or not. And no way in hell was he going to let that happen - not until he’d come inside of her, at least. Then he’d reveal his identity to her and f*ck her so good that she’d pass out in his arms from the exhaustion. And then he’d take her out to dinner and confess his feelings for her. Perfect. 

     “What’s … What was that?” She hadn’t expected for that sticky liquid to come shooting out of him like that. But it seemed to relax him a little, so maybe it was helping? 

     “That was the poison, sweetheart,” he lied to her, gripping her chin in his hand and brushing his thumb along her lower lip. “You see how much you got out? You see how much you helped me, baby? Such a good girl, princess, taking care of me like that. You want to help me some more?” She brushed her fingers along his shaft, noticing how hard he still was. Was there still a lot of poison inside of him? Why wasn’t it affecting her? 

     “But … isn’t that dangerous?” she asked him, bewildered. “Won’t I get hurt too?” Jason shook his head quickly, his fingers never leaving her face as they alternated between stroking her cheek and running through her hair. 

     “No, no, no!” he reassured her, another lie forming in his mind. “It only affects guys, sweetheart. You’ll be fine, baby. You just … You gotta help me get the poison out. Hmm?” 

     Jason took hold of his c*ck - still painfully hard in his hand - and traced the outline of her lips with his tip. “You see this? You see how hard I still am, baby? That’s ‘cause the poison’s still inside. You gotta keep going if you want to help me, okay?” X nodded and curled her fingers around his c*ck, her slender digits brushing along his shaft delicately. 

     “Should I … Should I suck on it again?” She kneaded his d*ck as she said it, squeezing and stroking him so gently, like she really was trying to give him a massage. Argh! She was so sweet! 

     “You can use your hands too,” he assured her, his c*ck springing back to life at her careful touches. She didn’t know how bad the poison was or how long she had to get it out of his system, but the quicker the better, right? 

     “How … How do I do that?” He took hold of her arms and lifted her up so she was standing before him, her damp shirt clinging to her chest and outlining the stiff peaks of her nipples perfectly. Shit. 

     “Just … Just like how you’re doing it now, sweetheart,” he told her, his eyes roving across her body beneath his mask. He had to get her out of her f*cking clothes! He trailed his fingers along her curves, trying to come up with an excuse. “But … But don’t you want to take this shirt off? You’re all soaked, princess.” 

     “I’m okay!” she chirped, her hands leaving his c*ck and moving up to his chest. He was so strong, his muscles all broad and hard beneath her hands. She bit on her lip as he snuck his fingers underneath her shirt and her body shivered at the feeling of his calloused palms brushing along her skin.

     “You sure?” he questioned, sliding his hands up and down her sides. Shit, she was soft. “You don’t have to be shy around me, princess. I just want to make sure you’re comfortable. You’ve done so well tonight, helping me out. Let me help you out too. Hmm? Please, sweetheart?” He was asking so nicely - Jason never said ‘please’ - and she was feeling pretty uncomfortable, her shirt all wet with the sticky liquid that had seeped out of him. 

     “Hmm, okay,” she agreed after a moment of hesitation. Jason swallowed down his elated cheer and slipped her shirt off, casting it aside. Then he turned back to her and all remaining rational thought left his mind. F********ck! She was so. F*cking. Gorgeous! Her curly hair tumbling over her shoulders, her cheek rosy with embarrassment, her perky little breasts all round and full. How was she so perfect?! 

     “Let me …” Jason reached his hands up and cupped her breasts, then began kneading them gently, marvelling at how soft she was. “You’re still a little sticky, princess. Let me clean you up.” 

     She let out a surprised yelp when he closed his fingers around her soft flesh and he growled at the sound. But he kept his movements slow, tender, his touch featherlight as he circled her breasts reverently. 

     “Um, M-Mr Hood?” X managed to squeak out, her mind quickly growing fuzzy at the feeling of his warm hands gliding over her sensitive skin. “D-Do you … s-still … need help?” 

     Jason grunted in agreement, then slid his hands around her waist and up her back. He pulled her flush against him and groaned as he dragged his fingers down her soft skin. God, he wished he could kiss her. “Yes. I need … I need …” 

     He pulled back and watched himself trace his hands all along her body, his fingers lingering on the smooth curves of her breasts and waist. Then he slid his fingers into her pyjamas and pulled them down her thighs, letting them fall to the ground. She squeaked in surprise and quickly squeezed her legs together, and he grabbed her ass in his hands, pulling her close to him. “F*******ck. You’re so soft, princess.” 

     She clutched onto his shoulders, her nipples tingling as they pressed up against his chest. She wasn’t sure how this was helping him, but it seemed to bring him some sort of relief, squeezing and stroking her as he was doing so. He kept groaning and sighing, the deep vibrations of his voice rumbling out of his chest and into her own, causing her body to shiver involuntarily. 

     “J-Jason, I … Something’s … coming out of me too. You sure I can’t be accidentally poisoned?” She’d felt a sticky liquid - not unlike his own - start leaking out of her vagina earlier, and it was absolutely soaking her thighs by this point. She’d never experienced such a sensation before, but it kept getting worse every time her nipples brushed up against his chest. 

     “Hmm? Let me see,” Jason commanded, immediately concerned. Was she hurt? Was there actually some sort of poison in the pollen Ivy had sprinkled on him? He’d f*cking murder her if there was; if anything were to happen to his precious little X because of her. 

     God, this was so embarrassing! He wanted to see her vagina! And the weird discharge that continued to drip out of it! But what if it was something serious? And she needed to go see a doctor? Maybe it was better to just let him check first. 

     “Um, it’s, um,” she hesitated before stepping back from him and going over to the sofa. Her body trembled as she pried open her legs slowly, exposing her deliciously drenched centre to him, and he fell between her knees desperately. She was so small - and tight, too, probably. Shit, it was going to feel so good being inside of her, so- Wait a minute. Had she just used his name? 

     “What did you just call me?” Jason looked up at her, a hint of confusion in his voice as he asked her the question. Oh no! Had she used his name? She couldn’t remember - she was too ashamed by the way she’d spread herself out before him, her naked body entirely on display for him. 

     “Uh, I … M-Mr Hood?” she tried, hoping he was too distracted by the poison to notice her slipup. But, of course, this was Jason, and nothing ever escaped his notice. 

     “That’s not what I heard, princess.” He took off his jacket, then his shirt, his c*ck continuing to twitch desperately at the sight of her blushing p*ssy, all red and swollen as it begged for his attention. “How long have you known? Why didn’t you say anything?” 

     Finally, he removed his mask, revealing his dark hair and his sparkling eyes and his sharp jawline. He licked his lips as he leaned closer to her, and she sucked in a breath at the sight. “I-I … I’ve known … for a while now. Just … It’s the way you walk. And how you always call me ‘princess’? I didn’t want to say anything because I thought … I thought maybe you didn’t trust me.” 

     He dragged his eyes away from her centre for just a moment, just long enough for him to see the pout her rosy lips twisted into. Then he pressed his thumb to her clit and she yelped in surprise at the unfamiliar sensation. “Of course I trust you, princess. I just … I just didn’t want you to get hurt.” 

     He circled her clit for a bit, nudging it gently with his thumb so that she kept twitching and moaning, unable to contain her pleasure. Then he pushed his mouth into her folds and groaned loudly as he began lapping up her juices. 

     “J-Jason!” she exclaimed, twisting her fingers into his hair in surprise. Her legs wriggled around his head as he dragged his tongue along her sensitive nerves, teasing her and stroking her until her entire body was quivering beneath his touch. “I-Is this … What are you doing? Is this allowed?” 

     God, she was so cute! And so naughty too - she’d sucked on his d*ck knowing that it was him? The whole time? Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as he'd thought. 

     “Anything’s ‘allowed’, princess,” he chuckled, the vibrations of his voice tickling her already desperate little p*ssy and pleasing her even further. “We can do whatever we want. And besides, I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m just trying to help clean you up. Hmm?” 

     He looked up at her and she swallowed at the sight of the sticky liquids dripping down his chin. Was he … Was he eating her up? Did she taste good? She must have if he seemed so satisfied by it. X nodded slowly and tried to relax back into her seat as he returned his mouth to her vagina, his lips closing around her folds and sucking them into his mouth. She tried to keep quiet, to not bother him while he did his best to help her out, but it was so difficult! She just kept squealing and moaning and squirming beneath his touch, the insistent throbbing inside of her getting more and more desperate as he dribbled his tongue along her bundle of nerves. He pulled her into his mouth again and she dug her fingers into the cushions as he circled her entrance with his tongue, trying her hardest to keep still and make his job a little easier. But then he slid tongue inside of her hole and she found herself sliding down the sofa and sighing with relief. Jason gripped onto her knees, holding her apart so that he could push his tongue even deeper inside of her and start lapping at her walls. And then he hit this one spot that had her leg twitching involuntarily, her body tensing up everytime he curled his tongue against it. “J-Jason … S-Something’s .. happening …” 

     Jason didn’t respond, instead speeding up his movements, his tongue pressing harder against her spot. Then finally, she was coming, her tight little body shaking and shuddering against him as he kept his mouth glued firmly to her p*ssy. He licked her up desperately as she spilled her arousal into his mouth - f*ck, she tasted so sweet! How did she taste so sweet?! - and refused to move even after she’d finished, choosing instead to admire the way her breasts heaved up and down as she tried to catch her breath. 

     “Um, Jace?” she began hesitantly, trying to pull herself away from him. But he tightened his grip on her, keeping her in place so he could continue licking up the sticky liquid splattered all over her thighs. “I-I … feel a lot better now, Jace. The … The throbbing is gone.” 

     She didn’t know how he’d done it, but he’d managed to get rid of that pulsing sensation inside of her, that tightness that had kept squeezing at her insides. Was that how he was feeling too? The sweat dripping down his forehead, his breaths coming in shallow and heavy pants? It must be painful.

     “C-Can I … Can I help you too?” she suggested when he finally dragged his mouth away from her sweet little p*ssy. He looked up at her, dazed, trying to figure out what she was talking about. 

     “Huh?” he questioned, his brain so clouded with lust and desire that he found himself unable to focus on anything but the taste of her still lingering on his tongue. F*ck, she tasted good. 

     “Do you still need help, Jay?” X asked, her beautiful little body glistening with sweat as he climbed up over her. Help? What did he need help with? Oh, right: his throbbing d*ck that was still so painfully hard for her. 

     “Come here. Come here, princess.” He lifted her up, onto his hips, then pulled on her lower back, arching her towards him so that her breasts were right up in his face. He trailed his fingers around one, then squeezed her flesh gently and bent over to groan against her neck when she squealed in response. F****ck. She was so f*cking cute. “I need … I need …” 

     He nudged her head back with his nose, exposing her throat to him so that he could lick his way along it. She squeaked in surprise as he nipped at her jaw, and he chuckled before finally pressing his lips to hers and kissing her. 

     She curled her toes as he kissed her, trying her hardest to match his aggressive pace. But she was just so overwhelmed by all the new sensations around her: his warm tongue swirling around her mouth, his broad chest pressing against her breasts, his hard c*ck twitching against her p*ssy. He did feel really nice though, his large form wrapped protectively around her, his familiar masculine scent dancing through the air around her. She shifted in position, wrapping her arms around his neck and sinking into the kiss, and then she didn’t feel so nervous anymore. He groaned as she brushed her tongue against his and pushed her back against the sofa, his hands travelling all over her body as he continued kissing her. He was so gentle, despite his obvious hunger for her, so tender in the way he caressed her soft curves. X smiled against his mouth and Jason pulled back to look at her as their teeth clashed. 

     “You okay?” he asked, reaching a hand up to cup her cheek. “You okay, baby?” She nodded and nuzzled his palm softly, her lips stretched into a sweet smile. Then she straightened and her features rearranged themselves into an expression of concern. 

     “But what about you, Jay?” she asked him, feeling how hard he still was beneath her. “You’re still … You’ve still got some of that poison inside of you, right? How do we get it out?” Shit. Jason let his head fall forward onto her shoulder as he bit back a groan. She was so … Ugh! He wrapped his arms around her and stroked her back gently, relishing the feeling of her, small and soft in his arms. It was so much better than anything he’d ever imagined. 

     “You want to help me? Hmm?” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. “ You want to help me get this poison out?” He pulled back to look at her, his expression serious as he waited for her answer. But of course she wanted to help him! Of course she’d do anything to help her best friend in the whole world! X nodded eagerly, her fingers still curled loosely around his shoulders. 

     “It might hurt, princess,” he warned her, his moss-coloured eyes fixed on her face as he brushed his fingers along her cheek. “Just a little, just in the beginning. Are you okay with that?” 

     “Of course!” she chirped quickly, offended that he’d question her loyalty. “It’s better than you hurting for the rest of the night!” 

     God, he loved her. If he hadn’t been in love with her before, then he definitely was now. She was just so sweet and so kind, always looking after him and taking care of him. And never expecting anything in return either! Well, he’d take care of her tonight. He’d take such f*cking good care of her, she’d never find herself wanting for anything ever again. 

     “Tell me if it hurts, all right?” Jason told her, taking hold of his c*ck and rubbing it along her folds. “I’ll … I’ll stop if it hurts.” F*cking liar. How the hell was he going to be able to stop himself once his d*ck got a taste of that sweet little p*ssy of hers? X nodded and Jason shifted in position slightly, lifting her up enough for him to slip his tip into her. She sucked in a breath, unused to the feeling, then exhaled slowly so that her body relaxed to allow more of him in. And f*ck if he wasn’t going to come undone right there. But he maintained his self-control, pushing his d*ck into her inch by inch. She curled her toes and bit down on her lip to muffle her pained whimper, and Jason forced himself to stop. He was already more than halfway inside of her, but he didn’t want to force her. He wanted her to enjoy it, to be pleasured by the feeling of being stuffed full of his c*ck, the bulk of him brushing up against her walls and stretching her out pleasingly. 

     She curled her toes, feeling a little uncomfortable at the way he stretched her out. It wasn’t an entirely unwelcome sensation though, being so filled up by him like this. And he’d said it would only hurt for a little while. “I-Is this helping, Jay? Does it feel better?” 

     “Mmhmm, so much better, baby,” he assured her, brushing her hair away from her face. F****ck. She kept leaking around him, her tight little p*ssy soaking him in her warm and slippery c*m, lubricating him so he could move in and out of her more easily. “You okay if I start moving?” 

     “Huh?” She furrowed her brows as she looked up at him, confused. 

     “I have to …” he sighed, trying to come up with an explanation. “You know how you were massaging me earlier? With your … your mouth and your hands? I’m going need you to do the same now.” 

     “O-Okay,” she agreed, still a little confused. But then he thrust himself into her and she yelped in surprise at the sudden movement. 

     “You okay … sweetheart?” Jason forced out through gritted teeth. He dug his fingers into her sides, trying to stop himself from moving in and out of her. But f*ck, it was hard. Especially when she felt so f*cking good, her sweet little p*ssy throbbing around his d*ck so obediently. X nodded and Jason continued his movements, but slower this time, nice and gentle, his hips rolling against hers carefully. And f*ck, it felt so good, sliding in and out of her, hearing the sweet squelching sound every time he moved. 

     “Mmm, f*ck,” Jason mumbled, lowering his head to her shoulder as he continued moving his hips against hers. It had been a little uncomfortable at first, but she was starting to get used to the size of him now. And it felt really nice, having him fill her up so nicely, the bulk of him brushing against her walls carefully and his tip prodding against this one spot inside of her that had her shivering with relief. She curled her arms tighter around him and he began pressing open-mouthed kisses to her neck and shoulder, his lips and tongue travelling along her skin appreciatively. “Feels so good, princess.” 

     He dragged his nails down her back, then pulled her hips against his and bent over to press his lips to her nipple. She let out a choked gasp as he suckled on her gently, then twisted her fingers into his hair. “J-Jason … Are we … Isn’t this, like, sex … or something?” 

     “Yeah, but it’s … it’s okay, right, princess?” he asked her in between the tender kisses he showered over her breasts. “You’re just … You’re just helping me out, right? Helping me get the poison out and feel better?” 

     “Mmm, yeah …” she conceded, her body tightening as he continued to suck on her breasts and pump his c*ck in and out of her. It was … kind of nice, having sex with him. He was really gentle and he kept making sure that she was comfortable before moving any further. She decided that she liked it. Jason pulled her breast into his mouth and sucked on it, then released it again with a ‘pop’. X squealed at the sensation and Jason looked up at her, concerned. 

     “What happened? You all right, princess?” he asked her quickly, his expression dazed, his eyes dark with lust. X nodded quickly. 

     “Yup!” she reassured him, starting to enjoy herself a little. She glanced away from him, giving a shy smile that made his heart start beating like crazy. “It just feels nice, that’s all.” Jason gave a wicked grin, then increased the movements of his hips as he returned his mouth to her breasts. It wasn’t long before she was shaking and shuddering in his arms, her p*ssy squeezing around his c*ck as she came for him. Jason moaned and squeezed her tighter, delighting in the way her small body shivered against him as he held her close. And then he returned his attention to her breasts, determined to make her c*m for him until she passed out in his arms.

     “J-Jason …” X whined as he licked and sucked on her breasts, her body exhausted from the numerous orgasms he kept giving her. It had been more than an hour since he’d started and she didn’t think she’d be able to take anymore. 

     "Just one more, baby, just one more,” Jason pleaded with her, his hard c*ck pumping in and out of her repeatedly. He meant it this time: he could feel himself starting to slow down, the testosterone finally starting to recede from his body. But god, she looked so hot, her sweet little p*ssy stuffed full of his c*ck - all the way up to his balls now - her thighs and abdomen splashed with his c*m that he’d quickly replace everytime it started drying on her skin. F*********ck! He bounced her up and down on his lap, feeling his body start to tighten in anticipation. And then she was milking his d*ck again, and he was coming inside of her, his c*ck shooting every last drop of his sperm inside of her. X moaned as she shuddered in his arms, her body twisting and contracting as his old c*m spilled out of her p*ssy again. Shit, she was so cute when she was coming, her forehead creased in frustration, her eyes shut tight with fatigue, her lips twisted into an annoyed pout. He breathed a sigh of relief when he was done, his c*ck finally going limp in her p*ssy, and slumped over in exhaustion. 

     “Jason! Sleep!” X pawed at his shoulder drowsily before sinking into his chest. Jason smiled and stroked her hair gently before pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, never having felt more satisfied than right then, the girl he’d loved for so long falling asleep in his arms.

     “All right, sweetheart,” he relented, already planning out their date for tomorrow night. “Let’s get you washed up and into bed.”

AHHH! I'm sorry if the ending is a bit abrupt, I wanted to finish this and get it out before I went to bed!!!

#jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood smut #red hood fanfiction #red hood #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #jason todd x oc #red hood x oc #jason todd x best friend #jason todd x innocent reader #red hood x best friend #red hood x innocent reader

[thewertsearch]

GG: so anyway, that reminds me ive got to talk to john! GG: ive got to get him to make me some new gizmos… TG: no dont bother john TG: hes on like his fuckin TG: wind mission or whatever [...] TG: in any case egbert lost his computer and game disc TG: so he cant do anything for you anyways

I honestly didn't think that was going to be a problem. Dave's Turntop had Sburb preinstalled when he alchemized it, so I assumed John could make another Sburb machine without the need for a disc.

Maybe John just didn't save the code for his computer. Damn it, Egbert!

TG: we just have to think outside the box here [...] TG: [...] honestly i figured wed have to do something like this TG: so i guess here we are doing it GG: doing what?? [...] TG: i need you to deploy something first [...] TG: deploy the intellibeam laserstation

Ooh, I remember that thing.

I originally thought it was a turret - but a turret wouldn't help Jade recover her Sburb devices.

Maybe it's a range-extender for the Sburb Server program, allowing Dave to move his cursor from Rose's house to Jade's, and deploy her gear himself.

TG: it reads captcha codes GG: on the back of cards? TG: yeah GG: but GG: we can already read those! TG: some are too garbled and complicated TG: the human eye cant decipher them

Captcha codes! Hell yes, it's been so long since we've done anything with the Captcha system.

I did always hope that we'd eventually be reading the 'locked' codes we occasionally saw in earlier Acts. The Laserstation breaks one of the final limitations of the Alchemiter, allowing us to duplicate forbidden items like pumpkins - and, notably, Sburb discs.

It also allows us to perform alchemy with these objects. We may have just unlocked some very, very powerful items.

GG: but isnt the whole point of captchas that only humans can read them? GG: and not robots???

Cackling right now.

TG: so the solution to the anti piracy measure is to override the anti spam measure [...] TG: cause god knows the last thing youd want was some web bot being able to figure out the code for like TG: a potted plant

The idea of Sburb alchemy being automated by computers is fascinating beyond words - it just begs so many questions.

Can a computer take on the role of a Server Player, or maintain a Grist Cache for itself? Can an AI be a fully-fledged Player, created in the Veil and sent to Earth on a reinforced hard drive?

We're pretty deep into the comic now, and I can say with a reasonable amount of confidence that Homestuck isn't going to go there - it's just not what the comic is about. But I'd love to read a fanfiction which dealt with ideas like this.

TG: basically robots are in control now TG: which is good news and bad news TG: the bad news is theyre all pornbots and theyve got LOADS of provocative material theyre just dying to share with us GG: whats the good news? TG: thats also the good news

This page came out in 2010

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #s89 #3024

[princesslayia]

earth 42 miles! X 1610 reader

warnings:   your miles girlfriend in both worlds, all characters are the age of 18, toxic behavior, italics is your thoughts, slight yandere 42 miles, cussing, google translate Spanish! (please let me know if i made any mistakes) miles from 1610 didn’t land in earth 42 instead you did btw!

summary:.Miles gets sent back to his world you try to use the go home machine setting it find miles morales. it does send you to miles but not to spider miles instead you land in earth 42. while in that universe you died as spiderwoman prowler miles being the one to kill you him not knowing it was you.so now that your back he’s not so lean on giving you.

‘I can move why can’t I move?’ I thought to myself as I look around the dark room trying to remember what happen.I look up to see uncle Aaron ‘’Aaron? wh-what I don’t understand how are alive? why i’m tied up? Please you don’t understand I need to get to miles needs me I have to help him’’ I say trying to get out of these chains. ‘why is this happening where the hell is miles?’’ one thing i knew for sure is if i wanted to live in neede to play it cool. I look up to see a figure on a beam in the shadows, jumping down the figure walks towards me. “’Good to see you princesa’’ the figure says in a deep but familiar voice. ‘’Wh-who are you?’’ suddenly the man takes his mask off revealing it to be “Miles?’’ he look hell even sounded like miles but he wasn’t my miles ‘’Look I’m sure your y/n is looking for you, so if you could please let me go i need to get to my miles’’the look on miles face change to emotionless to anger ‘’ You ain’t leaving me again ma, No you gonna stay right here with me’’ he said in a stern voice almost commanding. “what do you mean again? I don’t understand?’’ i look at him with confused look.’’To put it simple you died and i killed you i regret it  everyday of my life’’ I look at him in horror, He killed me? Miguel said this universe had no spiderman so does that mean he kill it’s spiderman?”I need to leave now’’ ‘’and whys that  cariño ‘’ ‘’Your dad is going i need to leave now please!?’’ Nah he ain’t my dad’‘ he said while walking close to me until we were in”ches apart.’‘Please you don’t under-’‘ His fits hit the puching bag hard swing me back and forth hard’‘I said I ain’t letting you go and i’ll be damn if somewhat be hero keeps you way from me again.’‘ he lightly touches my face with his claws ‘‘I think it’s time for you to go back to sleep Mi amor‘‘ “What’s that hey dont you fucking touch me get away from me!’‘ I scream and kick as i feel a prick in my neck.I fall slack against the punching the last thing i feel is a kiss on my cheek before hearing miles say ‘’Te dejo ir mi amor’’.

#miles molares #42 miles morales #prowler miles

[a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire]

Hellow, i just reblogged that post about the cauldron loving elain and I have been seized with a need to figure out what the hell is going on with that so I shall read one (1) chapter if acomaf to bring me closer to my goal. For the record, I did know about the cauldron loving elain and hating nesta because idk, nesta was angry and annoying when she was dunked into it but elain was just so sweet and demure about it probably, i did not think it was. romantic love. but this is a sjm book so I was foolish to assume there would be a male character whos not insanely horny. Actually, is the cauldron even male? He is in the german version but thats just bc the word cauldron is masculine grammatically. Quick someone draw like, a tumblr sexyman humanized version of the cauldron. actually no, tumblrsexymen are traditionally twinks and sjm hates those. Quick someone draw like, a super buff shirtless man with golden hair, or whatever the color of the cauldron is

anyway, PREVIOUSLY ON: THE FLAMES AND DARKNESS LIVEBLOG we had the Court on Nightmares Under The Mountain Reenactment Scene as I like to call it and can we talk about how Feyre has known Rhys for like a year and only liked him for like half a year and yet she was perfectly fine sitting in his lap nacked and letting herself be sexualized by him. Like, I dont even have any kind of sexual trauma, you would still need to build up sooooo many years of friendship and good will for me to do that for you and you would NOT be allowed to jerk me off!! whatever, lets get on with this, its time for chapter 43

I hate that Rhysand is being all like "i shouldnt have brought you, i didnt want you to see this side of me" when its like, buddy you didnt have to do all this shit you couldve just walked in an been like "Im your high lord and demand your orb" and they wouldve given it to you because youre their high lord and youre demanding their orb. And if he thought they wouldnt have given it to him, he couldve easily come up with a different distraction he just went with the one that sexualizes Feyre because hes weirdo. Like, if hes so cruel on every other day then he shouldve acted really nicely, greeted Keir by giving him the biggest hug and being like "uncleeeee!! :D long time no see :)" and Feyre should have been dressed up as like, the embodiment of spring in pastel green soft shades of pink and but Rhysand still treats with the utmost kindness and respect, now that would throw the Hewn City for a loop

Okay so the reason Rhys broke keirs arm is because the word 'whore' triggered him which is understandable but like, Feyre thought of herself as the Highlords Whore in a very deliberate parallel to Rhysand being known as Amarantha's Whore and Im pretty sure she even straightup thought something about being in the position he had for so many years but she was like, horny about it and the narrative just isnt acknowledging it. Like, theyre not talking about it even though their mindlink was presumably open the whole time bc I remember them flirting through the link, and Feyre isnt even like "oh man, I feel bad for thinking that when its so upsetting to him" its so weird

Rhysand basically said "I will never try to protect you by locking you away, instead I will protect you by killing anyone who upsets you, even when they dont actually upset you and they just upset me" like he and Tamlin are not fundamentally any different from each other, its just that Rhysand is a coldblooded murderer. but its fine cuz he wears black leather i guess

I just realized. Rhysand had a boner when Feyre was sitting in his lap. did that go away when he broke Keirs arm or did he walk out of that meeting with his dick fully hard

Listen, maybe its just because its 3am and Im a little sleepdeprived but this conversation barely makes any sense, these bozos are just completely talking past each other at this point

Rhysand just said something about how Tamlin just locked Feyre up and let her waste away and almost die and Feyre was gonna say "He was trying his best" but Rhys interrupted her like "Dont compare me to him, stop comparing us" when she didnt say anything about that ??? my guy is projecting so hard rn he thinks theyre having a conversation that theyre not even having

And like i would argue that Feyre doesnt even compare Rhysand and Tamlin that much, the narrative definitely does it a LOT, but Ive been reading Feyres thoughts throughout this whole ordeal and I feel like she barely even thought about Tamlin since she sent him that letter

This scene is supposed this big turning point for their relationship and its clearly meant to be really emotional but the only emotion i can feel rn is annoyance with Rhysand because its like, he did have genuinely traumatic things that happened to him but not only is he barely affected by any of them, those are not even the things that the narrative brings up whenever its trying to get me to sympathise with him instead its always just "whaaaaaaa everyone thinks Im nasty and evil just because i keep doing nasty and evil things T-T"

Feyre is being very cruel but in a kinda funny way because its directed at Rhysand rn, i would insert the quote but I am in no state to translate anything at the moment but shes basically like "of course you have to hide your true self from your friends, they wouldnt wanna hang out with otherwise, you burden"

Idk why but the prose being like "my arrow struck him too deep" is so funny to me, it has the same energy as the vampire fics i read where the weird gay one gets his heart broken and he goes "it wouldve hurt less if he staked me in the heart"

Feyre is like "i cant believe he was so vulnerable and shared his sorrows with me and just threw all of it in his face" and I could not give less of a shit, but ive been on a big emotional abuse kick lately so now Im thinking about what if Feyre was just faking having feelings for Rhys in order to make him fall in love with her and be vulnerable with her only to then tell him the truth and reject the mating bond and make him completely break down as revenge for UTM. now that would actually be empowering

Now Feyre is thinking about how shes been using Rhysand for a long time now and come onnnnnn there is such a big power difference between them, I genuinely think its basically impossible for her to do that. Like, hes the most powerful guy in the history of guys or whatever, if anything you were doing bothered him that much he could simply make you stop doing it. hm. now Im thinking about what if rhysand was actually a huge masochist. Now that would actually be hot

Feyre is talking about how all the members of the inner circle suffered and are traumatized and theyve all learned to live with it and, not to extend too much sympathy to Rhysand, but all of the ICs major traumatic events happened centuries ago, his traumatic event happened one (1) year ago and it lasted 49 years i think its gonna take a little more time till hes all better

ughhhhhhh dont remind me of Amrens stupid romance subplot im gonna kill myself

Starfall is called Die Nacht der fallenden Sterne [the night of the calling stars] in german which is so much cooler and more whimsical, shoutout to my gal pal Alexandra Ernst for attempting to reinsert atleast a little bit of whimsy into this joyless world

Also, apparently its expected that Rhysand spend the first starfall in fifty years with his people, his people in this case referring to the Verlarians in the city that no one knows exists and not the people living in his courts actual capital. then again, i guess those bozos are all trapped under a mountain and wouldnt be able to watch it anyway so who cares

Amren said "hes not lucky to have us, we're lucky to have him" like yeah, hes paying you all exorbitant salaries just for being his buddies

God, amrens jacking rhys off so hard rn I cant believe she didnt wanna have sex with him when he asked

btw Im not even gonna dignify all that vaguely meta bullshit about how Tamlin is the golden prince and rhysand is the villain in the stories but the villain in stories is the guy who locks maidens away in towers and rhys freed her with anx kind of commentary because its just stupid, its just sjm bashing you over the head with how subversive she is when Tamlin and Rhysand are basically the same guy with different aesthetics at this point, like Feyre is not making a choice between the goodboy hero and the badboy villain, shes making a choice between a Bad Boy with a Heart of Gold (green) and a Bad Boy with a Heart of Gold (black)

#anti acotar #anti acomaf #anti rhysand #anti feysand #flames and darkness liveblog

[the-s1lly-corner]

ADMIN I GOT A JUICY. JUICY IDEA.

Remember the Slenderman ask. Welp. I want him as a stuffed animal now.

Reader is mostly the same, exept forrr... lets say they have children. And pets. It's up to your interpritation how they got em i trust you.

And lets say they're close. Real close. Like "you weren't home today so i came in and watered your plants" close. Domestic closeness. Talking so much they can sometimes predict what the other will be doing/saying right now.

Reader is very affectionate but obv respects slendy so they just turn to actions and words to show him they care(although it can be a little hard for them to truly know what they're feeling and how to express emotions sometimes).

So, one day Slendys brother(not that one through.) comes for a casual chit-chat. "So how are things with you and reader? Plan to move together any time soon?" "No, why would we do that?" "Oh well i just throught with the nature of your relationship it would ve the next step, naturally.. you've been together for so long!" "..we're not together romantically, if that's what you're implying." "...you're literally raising kids together what do you mean." "....w.wbhjat."

Cue panik. He goes to talk to reader and they're like. Oh shidt. It do be not so just friendly.

Can be just queerplatonic or romantic, both are cute i think:3

Slenderman x slender-being!reader !

genuinely dont know what all to title this post since its so specific so i recommend for anyone reading this who isnt the silly requester to read through the request ueueue rolls around, im gonna get silly!

honestly i dont think slenderman would know much about romance and marriage. like he knows what they are but he doesnt know... everything about it. especially if its in terms of human stuff, with the rings and all that. you know? mostly because he doesnt exactly leave his woods and the number of people/creatures he actually properly interacts with and forms bonds with is very rare and so far, none were romantic...

and yet here he is, tending to your home in his woods that youve made for yourself, while youre away doing god knows what... it would be a shame if the plants in your home dried, or dust started to settle... or worse someone wandering into it when they arent allowed inside... though, thats even assuming they even manage to get that far into the woods given how possess of the area slenderman is

since he doesnt really have a basis to... base your relationship around, it doesnt take until someone else pointing out the dynamic to him. namely, the creatures he calls brothers

are they actually related in admins au? were they just created by zalgo at the same time? do they have the same genetics? honestly admin hasnt decided yet but they still view each other as siblings!

that aside, slenderman would definitely be in some form of denial. him? this man eating monster who mostly lives in solitude? the same one who has never felt the embrace of another person (/j but now that i think about it....)

THAT slenderman?

hell i dont even think its proper denial because he thinks he cant have those feelings.. not i think its denial because this really cant be what it is, right?

this leads to him doing what he does best; silently following someone.. usually in order to spook them out of the woods or to... hunt... but this time, hes simply observing you, trying to figure out if you're in the same boat at him

but you're just so vastly different from him in nature and personality that its hard to pinpoint your thoughts... sure he can read minds; i think most slender beiings can do that; but i dont think they can do it on other slender beings you know

doesnt approach you about it though, so youre going to be the one to ask him what the hell hes doing... again due to limited contact with others hes not the best at expressing his feelings or thoughts outwardly, hell even inwardly its weird for him but thats aside the point

i think im going to leave the ending open on what becomes of your relationship; but i think given how the reader is, they invite him into their home to talk things out with him. are you surprised that he has a possible crush on you? ....only a little since again, this is THE slenderman we're talking about... less that he may have feelings for you, but more so that you just thought he was on the aromantic spectrum

and thats no diss to my fellow aros; honestly i can easily see slenderman being greyromantic or demiromantic :3 ... maybe more so demiromantic, me thinks

rolls around

the ideas are not ideaing i apologize

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #slenderman x you #slenderman x reader #slenderman imagine #slenderman headcanon #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta imagine

[foliejpg]

oh yippie more asks:D

i have a lot :3

🍓🌵🥑🥤🌻🧃🧸🪐🍬🦷❄️🌿🏜️🍦🌸🎨🧩

you dont have to answer all of them but here you gooo

oh hell yes this is gonna be so fun <3

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 

i don't remember specifically how, but i know i first interacted with shipping on youtube in like 2007-08 back when you could comment on people's profiles and message other users, so i think i must have commented on some like.. pokeshipping amv and just struck up a convo before i followed some friends i made to ff.net and deviantart, and started writing on ff.net lol

🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love

so i don't use spotify, i'm an apple music girlie and i really only listen to my own playlist i made that is composed of all of my top 100 songs of the year going back to 2015 LMAO

🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?

@actuallyalaska she got me

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

every writer i tagged yesterday!! all of whom take part of the @bandomthememonths go read all these great fics by these awesome writers<333

🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis

@judasisgayriot your gifs are a godsend and i always love getting a comment from them <3

🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before

my name is short for guinevere lol

🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual?

so i'm sort of picky abt my dash lol i try to stick to foblr so if you post mostly fob then i'll prob follow! i do a good scroll through to get the vibe, but if they post a lot of non fob stuff, i usually skip bc its just not for me but no hard feelings ever<3

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

well i just bought a new (refurbished) computer for the first time in a few years, so that's exciting! i've recently started making embroidery patches and that's been a lot of fun lol idk i've just been having a good time<3 i'm doing a lot of home renovation projects so i'm excited to have a brand new kitchen soon lmao

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

not a fandom character but as far as bandom goes, i don't really care for mcr and maybe that just has everything to do with that i'm really not familiar with lore/band mbrs etc., but danger days is the only mcr album i really connected with especially when i was 16-17 and its still one of my favorite albums, but i'm good on their other albums lol

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

just be kind<3 ik that's super cheesy but i think its easy to forget that other ppl have feelings too and maybe just being nice to someone will make their day. also don't ever pay full price for anything if you can avoid it. generic brands are just as good as name brands

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

i have.. no idea honestly lmao

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

listen when i figure it out, i'll let you know lol when i'm stuck i eat an edible and stare at the wall until something comes to me

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

ANY AND ALL!!!! especially when they tell me a specific part they liked - even if its just a line makes my heart go bu-bump<3

🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate

genuinely i can't think of a character i hate, i really don't watch anything but like. seinfeld and its always sunny in philadelphia lmfao

🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them

this is my cat bear<3 she's ten years old and sleeps in a drawer in my desk while i work

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

here and here and here and this nsfw fanart from my bubbline au these are all my absolute favorites <3

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

i answered this here but its super long so<3

#ask #anon #tag game

[halfadoginatank]

Robin and steve accidentally join the mafia

I couldnt stop thinking about this post by @qprstobin so wrote a lil bit based on an idea in there

It's been about two years since vecna's defeat, and after two years of some of Robin and Steves most awful jobs in chicago. One month into this one and they've finally found peace.

"Okay can we be real here?" Rob waves a slice of pizza as they sit in the store room of the warehouse-like antique shop they work at. "The boss is lovely, I mean seriously! But isn't it weird that we've met his entire family?"

Steve squints at Robin from the couch. "I don't think so? Maybe this is what, like… Italians are supposed to be like."

"Aren't you Italian?"

"Yeah but my family was fucked up. Everyone's so close with Boss it's like, a clan almost." He settles his hands on top of his chest. To be frank it's the best couch he's ever been on.

"I think it's about time we start accepting the fact that they might be like. Mafia." Steve looks at her to continue. But she's too busy eating the last of her pizza, avoiding the crust.

She finishes and hands the crust to steve.

"I mean, the store is practically empty! Barely anyone shops here!" Okay that's true, it's almost like family video but instead of stocking shelves for new movies, their boss Mr. De Luka or one of his 'cousins' will drop off something so they can slap a price tag on it and find a good place to put it.

"Mmm but why would we care? We're not doing anything wrong! Plus are you gonna look Mrs. De Luka in the eyes and say 'oh sorry ma'am' which you know she hates! And go 'we won't come to dinner tonight on account of maybe you being the Italian mob!"

Robin cringes hard. Steve huffs in victory. Mrs. De Luka was a tall and beautiful woman with angular features, a roman nose, and hair the exact same color as Steve's. She was a force to be reckoned with. She may bake some of the best cream cake but she's also steadfast and can settle a table of eight full grown men with just a slap of her hand against it.

"Ugh. That's not fair, saying no to her is impossible, she's like… so incredibly hot."

Steve scrunched up his nose. "Ew robin dont say that she's like a parental figure."

"She's more like a friend's mom!"

"Yeah! My mom!"

Robin points an accusing finger "Ahah! So you admit it. She's practically your mother!"

Steve chokes on the last bite of his pizza crust, he sits up and hammers on his chest. "Jesus Christ, no robin she's not my mother!" He coughs out

Robin throws her hands up "I didn't say that. I said practically! Hell, Angelo calls you cousin!" Steve narrows his eyes… Angelo Ricci is their boss's cousin, actual, biological cousin. Because as Steve and Robin have learned, some of the cousins or aunts or uncles are just unrelated people they call family.

"Should you be calling him by his first name? He's old enough to be your dad."

Robin actually stops and sits back in her chair. "If he was my dad that would be weird." Steve nods.

"Because of Amara?"

"Yes."

Amara Ricci… Steve can still remember the first time they met.

[-]

It had to be at least a week after they were hired. Mr. De Luka thanked them both for being great employees and asked them if they would have dinner with his family. Mr. De Luka wasn't like Keith, and neither was his store. It seemed genuinely family owned, and Mr. De Luka himself was much kinder, and seemed to actually care. Which was novel considering their last boss told one of them if one of them got killed during a stick up, to not sue him because 'he warned us'."

They both took a cab to the house, which wasn't really a house but a manor. It was huge, and Steve thought he had seen huge. Turns out Midwest standards are nothing on city ones. Robin and Steve knocked on the door, that's when they met Mrs De Luka. She was harsh but loving, and most importantly. Insisted on being called Helena, or Ma.

There were so many people in the house, they only set about trying to find their boss and at least get to know his immediate family. Sure enough, halfway into the conversation with the man. Another man walked up to him and clapped him on the back. This man called their boss 'Carlo' and introduced himself, Angelo, his wife Luna, and finally their kids.

Behind them was a girl just about their age maybe a few years older. She was short and had Angelos curly black hair, Luna's tanned skin, and an arched nose that clearly came from Mr. De Luka. Robin lost her breath, and stumbled. She stumbled so hard her shoulder bashed against Steve and he got to witness his best friend make possibly the most hurried introduction ever. Luckily the girl, Amara, just laughed.

Next to him was her brother Dante, who was notably younger. When Steve looked at him he felt a pang in his chest. If he squinted his eyes and tilted his head to the left he almost looked like Dustin. And just about the right age too.

Finally they all sat down for dinner. Robin and Steve sit shoulder to shoulder. Robin across from Amara and him across from Angelo. An older woman sat at the end of the table. Helena's mother, Mrs Ricci, and to her left her husband Mr. Ricci. To say Steve was shocked was.. an understatement, in any dinner parties his family had him attend, there was always a man at the head of the table. Steve likes to think that that's when he started to feel a bit more comfortable.

The dinner went on incredibly long, eating was interrupted by conversations, bickering, and drinking. But it was amazing. By the end of the night, when Mr. De Luka and Angelo walked them out; they were both smiling. exhausted, maybe, but happy. Angelo slapped his shoulder and said 'cousin, come by anytime.' Mr. De Luka had walked back inside at Helena's call so the other man leaned forward. 'you two make my little brother happy, I've not seen it in a while.'

#robin buckley #professional problem stevie #steve harrington #stranger things #mafia au #and not really #comedy #short ficlet #ficlet #fanfic #fanfiction #dustin henderson #mention #calling people unrelated to you cousin #which I stole from the bear #because im not even close to Italian #seriously im Asian what the fuck is with this is it even real?

[ivy-cat-700]

stupid shit that happened in my dnd campaigns so far

SO IVE BEEN PLAYING DND SINCE????? like either late last year or early this year. i'd wanted to for a while and when a classmate asked us all if we wanted to join her campaign. what was i supposed to do? say no??

and because every person i've played with over two campaigns is an absolutely ridiculous human being, we have Many silly happenings from both.

campaign 1:

Stromboli Ironfist: one of our players, a dwarf barbarian chef who started the campaign with the goal of being the best chef in the land but i think he kinda lost that over time. when he showed the name on his character sheet to the dm. she was in tears laughing.

Stromboli Jr.: the adopted goblin son of Stromboli, who adopted him immediately after killing his entire guild(? dont exactly recall). the matching names are, canonically, a complete coincidence.

housekeeping?: we were going through a dilapidated castle and every time someone asked us "what are you doing here?" in a new room, stromboli said ".......housekeeping?" and it. it never worked. except for ONE TIME. when a guard rolled SO LOW that they were just like "oh yeah we've been waiting on you guys!" So then we cleaned some cobwebs off the walls to keep up the act :')

throwing wolves in the fire: one of our players just kept throwing wolves in fires. that is all.

tormenting wren with milk: (wren is the character's name, not the player cause i didnt wanna put their name out there.) dm kept giving wren milk-related items and just would not stop. we were IN TEARS every time and. we ended up giving them a mcguffin of "The Strawberry Nesquik" at the end of the game. i believe that strawberry nesquik ended up being empty. the world is truly unfair to Wren Serpent. (also, wren was the one who threw wolves in fires)

Badger Milking Farm: THIS ONE HAS CONTINUED TO THE PRESENT DAY. during one of the times at which wren received a Milk Item, namely Badger Milk, he was extremely confused about the existence of such a thing. my character, zora, said, "what, you don't know about badger milk? some of my most formative memories are with badger milk!" this led to the canonization of the idea that Zora Grew Up On A Badger Milking Farm.

Campaign 2:

least productive session ever: first session of the new campaign! .....we spent the entire time beating each other up and failing to go through a waterfall that was Literally Right The Fuck There. before we had a single encounter, two of us almost died.

THE APPLESAUCE: dm gave us the name of a VERY IMPORTANT AND PLOT RELEVANT ITEM, we decided to butcher the name as "The Applesauce." no matter what she renames it. we will always call it the applesauce.

not-a-puzzle: this hellish nightmare was created by stromboli's player. we spent the back half of one session and part of another trying to figure out what the hell we were supposed to do for a """"puzzle."""" i said out loud at some point, "is there something obvious we're missing here??" to which the dm and stromboli had to try very hard not to laugh. one player then decided to ask, "can i just go??" she tried the door. and. IT WASNT FUCKING LOCKED. i have a grudge i will hold for all eternity from that

zora's glasses: so the new campaign is centered around a new band of heroes trying to mend the things that our old characters royally fucked up. so we're getting to meet our old characters! and when we met zora (on the badger milking farm, mind you) she asked us to find her glasses. i told the dm that i wanted the glasses to be a pair of new year's eve novelty glasses for a year that has not happened yet. and so, that is what they became.

that is all i can think of but if i remember more. i will put them

#dnd #dungeons and dragons #ttrpg

[blueskittlesart]

In defense of the original, while I do agree the episodic vibes were a bit much at times, and it was something I kinda had to work my way through slowly rather than binging all in one...

I do kinda prefer the more gradual approach to laying out the information; getting to know both the setting and who Vash is as a person and the different facets of both, before getting the context that lets it all click into place. Plus the main quartet having ample time to grow together so that later developments have stronger emotional weight.

I will agree that Knives definitely suffered in focus, and I am interested in how Stampede handles him, but admittedly he wasn't really what I watched Trigun for in the first place. ^^;

yeah my gripe is less with the way the setting and characters were handled and more with the way the. actual plot was handled. it honest to god felt to me like they realized about halfway through their run that they didnt have enough episodes left to get the backstory in in a cohesive way so they just shoved it all into one episode and pretended that that explanation didn't create more questions than it answered. you spend 20 episodes teasing your audience like "ooooh what is vash?? clearly hes not human!! clearly there's something going on!!! don't you want to know whats going on?? keep watching and you'll totally understand whats going on!!" and then your big reveal is that. He Is Not Human. which is something that any idiot who has watched the last 20 episodes has already figured out. the question the audience ACTUALLY has at that point in the runtime is what, EXACTLY, is vash, and what the context is behind the conflict he and knives are in. the backstory episode explains that Knives Is Here, and it gives context to the setting and everything, but it pissed me off that it STILL didn't answer the actual mysteries i cared about, i.e. vash's real identity and the thing with the gun and his fucking arm and knives's motivations and everything. maybe that gets answered in the last episode that i neglected to watch but personally I prefer a story where i UNDERSTAND WHAT'S GOING ON by the time the final confrontation hits. with trigun it got to a point where vash was going out for the final battle with knives and i STILL didn't know who vash was, who knives was, where they came from, or what the hell their motivations were. that just made that final confrontation seem so wholly uninteresting to me that i didn't even feel like watching it. it was like "hey look vash is fighting a cardboard cutout that he is Afraid Of. Why? lmao idk man. probably has something to do with that weird spaceship that shows up in one whole episode before this point. not going to tell you how tho." I think some writers have this tendency to think that mystery = good writing and that not revealing anything to your audience will consistently draw them in for more, but that only works for so long. after 20 episodes of virtually net 0 information it got to feel like I was being strung along and like my questions were never going to be answered, so I gave up on the show in the final hour. Again, i'm not saying it was BAD necessarily and i understand the context in terms of writing and production that led to the show being produced that way but i think it really noticeably suffers due to the fact that it refuses to give the audience ANYTHING but crumbs of information for about 80% of it's runtime. that being said. i did genuinely like a lot of it. it has its moments. im not trying to discourage anyone from watching it or anything lol i just think stampede is a little more successful in keeping the viewer engaged in the story throughout by constantly feeding you bits of information and actually answering your questions as they become plot-relevant.

#asks #wow hi. trigun essay intermission sorry everyone #this same thing applies to virtually every villain in the show. nick. zazzie. the guy with the blue hair whose name i dont even remember. #you get like. the barest snippets of information about them. you know theyre working for knives somehow #you know that they've been somehow modified? and that their titles identify them as relating to knives #in nick's case you know that his whole thing has something to do with the orphanage and the priesthood #but beyond that you get... nothing. and you're expected to just speculate?? figure it out somehow??? #nick especially pissed me off bc it got to a point where he was DEAD and i still didn't understand what the fuck his deal was #despite him being a supporting character for almost the entirety of the show. he still got only like half an episode dedicated to explainin #his backstory and motivations and EVERYTHING. and then he DIED #and like. to be fair. i think the lack of explanation worked in some places. it worked decently with vash #but it worked with vash BECAUSE vash is pretty much an open book as a character. you can easily tell what he's thinking and feeling #and it's not hard to extrapolate things about him from what you see. his pacifism. the fact that he's not human. his past trauma etc etc #you can get a good portion of that just by watching him throughout the show #but i think that only works BECAUSE he shows so much of himself. for a character like nick who is deliberately closed off #and NEVER shows his true self expecting the audience to be able to understand & empathize with him based solely on what he projects #just doesn't work. because it's made clear to the audience from the getgo that nick is not the person he claims he is #and that he takes steps to never show too much of himself. so when his backstory shows up randomly in one episode #and then he immediately dies. it leaves you kinda like. okay. what the hell was that. who was that guy anyway #you know??? #ok rant over fr

[silvr-skreen]

Any random HCs for MFN (OC or canon) you want to share but haven't had the chance to?

OH BOY DO I? This is going to be incredibly long

Headcanons:

none of the puppets can swear if a child is around. Like physically can't. it's a failsafe Al added JUST IN CASE. they can if everyone is an adult however, but usually dont.... usually.

i am a gordon transman truther and i am going to die protecting my truth. grumpy old man deserves the world

also a ray HOH truther. i dont think his hearing was ever the same after the sewers and all that heavy machinery.

In relation to the last headcanon, he only got hearing aids after failing to hear the fire alarm during a drill... gordon found him inside and confused as to where everyone was. ray got his hearing aids the literal next day.

i like to think al was initially intending a lot more with the show, but got kind of trapped in the "doing what's always been done" and cutesy kid stuff. Especially since i can see the CNBG blocking him

they turned down a lot, and Al had never been bold enough to try and push back, beause he was afraid of losing hat he'd worked for.

RICHIE TIME. Richie is indian/mexican. he first tried to get into other shows or movies after leaving MFN but ironically... hated how grim they all were. there wasn't even an ounce of goodness unless it was to be used as a misdirection.

One of the things the CNBG pushed back on was the puppets (or at least some of them) having different races/ethnicities/nationalities etc. because Al wanted it to feel like a real neighborhood.

Pearl is Singaporean, Norman is hispanic on his mother's side, Ricky is african american, and Ray is scottish/irish, Gobblette is from Appalachia. The other puppets are still kind of a WIP on my end deciding

All puppets can clone themselves, they just need enough material. Larger puppets require more material in general, and so clone less.

The dogs are mostly clones. Started w/ just Mahoney and then they cloned themself twice into the other 2.

Puppets like Pearl, Ray and Gobblette who are large and fully dexterous (have you seen pearl leap?) have inner metal frames, theyre not particularly hard or poke-y, but they help hold the puppets structure like bones.

Gordon is physically disabled in some capacity, personally i've got a few headcanons on that, such as the asthma and a bad knee (as well as some others that are a bit in the realm of spoilers for my fic sorry lol)

He also has multiple medals. (three to be specific, but i cant tell you what 2 are yet.

Gordon to me is the biromantic ace guy who just never understood the appeal but shrugged it off like "im sure everyone dreads that part of a romance and just does it because its something you do."

Shirley coming back (hell even just being alive) was a shock to every puppet who doesn't go to the basement. they didnt know that one of her made it to the basement and stayed hidden with ray. Pearl stared at her for like a solid 2 minutes while trying to figure out if she was real.

ow this was exactly as long as i was expecting. i probably have many more i cannae remember em tho.

#my friendly neighborhood #mfn game #mfn

[pluralcultureis]

TW//SH MENTIONS and like big ass rant

Plural culture is feeling like shit bc of how you and the other brain ppl act towards our persecutor bc second we try to act nice or understand he lashes out to the point that we have to genuinely fight to keep him away from fronting because he has a history of causing horrific damage to the body to the point that we could've been hospitalized, and hes just fucking *cruel*. Like we don't want to be assholes, we'd all love if everyone here got along(hell the every now and then fights are manageable) but we *cant* with him. I cant bring myself to hate him bc hes still me, he was supposedly the first split and he remembers too much and I feel horrible, but we just dont know what to do anymore. Hes violent and one time did some weird almost merge thing where his thoughts and actions messed with another up our cohosts behavior(?? if anyone has info please share idk what that was) which ended up being traumatic for them, he completely shuts everyone out the few times hes gotten in front, and apparently hes cruel to others while fronting(which gee thanks my friends thought i hated them for a week) like??? i dont know what to do anymore i want to help and try to figure things out but its hard to do that when the second we actually approach him he starts ranting about the first horrible thing he can think of to make whoever it is feel horrible

That's a question for a therapist honestly

-Imp

#endos dni #osdd #pdid #did #did system #pdid system #osddid #actually did #traumagenic #actually dissociative #tw self harm #cw self harm

[chucklepea-hotpot]

Hey! Came upon your blog cause you liked my Andrew VdK posts (thank u btw!!)! You seem to be a german speaker and i'm trying to practice my german. would you have any good german language tv show reccs that i could watch (with subtitles)? Also not to sound needy cause beggars can't be choosers or whatever but i tend to watch more lighthearted/teen drama type stuff than really heavy serious adult dramas but this is not a hard rule!! please ignore this if it's annoying! have a super nice day!!

Thank you for posting the Andrew content, I'm so happy to see him, my poor littlw meow meow <3

If you like lighthearted German (teen) dramas, then, oh boy!, I have just the thing for you:

"Türkisch für Anfänger" (teen soap about a German-Turkish patchwork family, it's silly and hilarious and soooo dramatic)

"Schloss Einstein" (still running today show about kids at a German boarding school, literally has the best intro in the world)

"Die Pfefferkörner" (has also been running for generations, it's about a gang of children detectives investigating im Hamburg, also has the best intro in the whole world)

"Doctor's Diary" (Grey's Anatomy but far worse. It's a trainwreck, if you liked desperate housewives you’re gonna love this one)

"Berlin Berlin" (never watched that one personally, but it's about a young woman living in Berlin in her 20s trying to figure out her life)

"Die Wilden Hühner" movies (my personal faves growing up though i prefrr the books; about a group of teen girls who have an old trailer as a group headquarter and chicken in the garden, literally what more do you want 😌)

"Französisch für Anfänger" (i remember so little from this movie but that it's about a boy who cant speak a whim French going on a France exchange to get with a girl. very stupid, very funny, hell of a music track)

"Die Vampirschwestern" movies (literally what it says on the tin, half-vampire sisters trying to figure out teen life, find friends and occasionally fight evil forces. normal stuff, you know)

"Hanni & Nanni" movies (a set of twin girls who get send to boarding school and being very pissed about it until... well, they're not anymore :) there is also an anime, as far as I know it's on youtube, it's so sweet!)

"Heidi" (show out of all shows, isao takahata and hayao miyasaki we're both part in creating it, fuck yeah. story about an orphaned girl who is brought to the alps to live with her grandfather and i dont know how to describe it any further? it's a beautiful heartwearming story with gorgeously animated landscapes. also baby goats.)

I hope some of these work for you and feel free to ask for other shows. I actually don't know if all of them are accessible outside of Germany, but I'm just hoping for the best 🥲

#german stuff

[sysmedsaresexist]

to elaborate on WHY i use endogenic: because i'm NOT professionally diagnosed yet, and i'm worried about the harm i could cause if it does end up somehow being a misdiagnosis. i dont want to talk about my experiences and label them as being apart of a certain thing if, in the end, its not. but ironically, i still fear the same if i label myself endogenic. hope this explains a bit!

Friendo, don't overthink it so hard, really, the vast majority of the community isn't properly and professionally diagnosed, and the reasons are endless and valid (except for ableist reasons like, "ew, I'm not disordered")

Listen, there is a MASSIVE difference between misinterpreting symptoms/experiences and faking or lying

BPD and schizophrenia are the most common misdiagnoses for DID. Do we blame and shame people misdiagnosed (self DX or otherwise) with those when they realize it's something else? Do we get angry at those that realize they were never a system at all? Do we bash on endogenic systems that realize they actually have DID? Hell, no, and I'll fuck a bitch up if I ever see any of this, I'm just happy for anyone that gets even a small step closer to figuring themselves out

It's when you're hellbent on one thing and you lose sight of symptoms that don't necessarily fit that one thing that there's a problem

When you join a community in good faith looking for answers and support, there is no judgement for misdiagnosis, and your experiences based on being open to other possible explanations for symptoms becomes INVALUABLE to that community

If you turn out to have DID or BPD or literally anything, you become a resource for those communities

I get asks daily about "is this normal," "what does this symptom mean," "how do you tell the difference between this and that." Who better to answer that than someone who went through the same scenario? Discerning between self expression and identity, various symptoms and presentations, different ways of struggling. If I turned out to have schizophrenia after all this, and you turned out to have DID, combined, we're going to help someone figure themselves out (and BOY, I'd have some stories to share).

What harm could you possibly do by looking for answers?

If you're going to take the endogenic label, the only things I suggest are that you try to be mindful of the ableism and misinformation that underlines a lot of conversations in those communities, try to correct where you can, and try to encourage people with questions about other possible diagnoses to go seek answers in those communities-- not for their friends to take best guesses at it

Most important of all, consistently monitor yourself and your symptoms-- don't deny and brush under the rug when you're struggling

This blog has always been, and always be, open to any and all that want to comment and interact, because every experience matters and adds to the conversation

The community I want to foster is one full of people just trying to find answers and get through life

Whatever you end up having, so long as we're on the same page that DID is a childhood trauma disorder (because it is), you're welcome in my community, with whatever label you choose (and from there, I do my best to monitor the interactions of different labels in my followers-- my priority for safety will always be those with DID/OSDD over other labels)

.......

.......

.......

Though I might still be over here, silently judging and remembering this meme I made forever ago, but you can't make anyone be ready to talk about that

Edit: also, for the other half of this ask, it's totally normal not to remember things until you're much older and out of the situation

[lnkedmyheart]

Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Thanks....

In no specific order. Did i take this opportunity to post pics of these characters? Yes.

Revy (Black Lagoon)

A dual wielding gunslinger from Roanapur. She is badass and deeply unhinged. A seriously traumatized woman with solid character flaws and a weirdly pseudo romantic relationship with the guy she kidnapped for a ransom and is now desperately trying to protect without realizing that she can't save his innocence, because he was never innocent and pure.

Fredrica Sawyer (Black Lagoon)

A cleaner from Roanapur, uses a chainsaw as her primary weapon, cannot talk due to a severe injury to her larynx and uses a voice synthesizer. An adorable and creepy goth girl who may or may not have in universe ties to the Texas Chainsaw massacre. Which yes, implies that black lagoon is set in the same universe as the TCM movies.

Dazai Osamu (BSD)

Love the depiction of depression and mental health problems with the guy. Love how he is constantly present everywhere and is seen through everyone else's perspective and yet we know so little about him. He is a dork and a brat and so annoying. He is usually aloof and distant but deep down has the capacity to be tender and kind that is only seen in the rare moments of vulnerability. But he is so hopeful and yet completely convinced he deserves nothing.

Chuuya Nakahara (BSD)

He's such a tragic character like his life is one compromise after another as he gets pushed further and further into a bad situation but he will not let that stop him from making the best out of his situation. His compassion and empathy for even those who hurt him is so powerful but his brutality and intelligence is another aspect that makes him stand out against the other characters of his kind. And then you have his incredible loyalty where he will cross all boundaries to protect those he considers his people. Gorgeous characterization honestly.

Yato (Noragami)

Another extremely tragic character and one who is trying so hard to change his fate despite everything. My guy does NOT catch a single break through the centuries he has been alive and he is still so hopeful. Not to mention letting Bishamon despise him for so long just to protect Kazuma, a guy he barely knew at the time. UGH. And his whole thing for Hiyori and his affection for Yukine. Kill me!

Yukine (Noragami)

This was the first time I cried honestly. His backstory had me curled up in my bed unable to eat for an entire day. And his growth from an annoying unlikeable brat to one of the most lovable characters is crazy. Also no, I will never not cry over Yukine calling Yato 'dad'.

Jeremy Pascal (Tales from the Gas Station)

I didnt realize how much I liked him till I thought he died. In that regard I'm like Jack I guess, neither of us realised how much we cared for this adorkable himbo ex cultist. The fact that he is genuinely heartbroken that his suicide cult abandoned him and committed without him is so...oddly endearing and just the energy he adds is charming. He's also such a great friend to Jack, man better start appreciating him more.

Sorey (Tales of Zestiria)

This is my son. And my sun. He is the most precious, sweetest boy to me. Aside from being ridiculously gay about Mikleo, the guy is what you'd think is a typical hero figure in such a setting. Pure, celibate, sweet and even tempered etc. But he is snarky as hell, constantly teases others, is NOT oblivious contrary to popular opinion. He is also irritable. I also love that he is an archaeology nerd.

Irma Lair (W.I.T.C.H)

I dont remember too much about her but I always really liked her. Enough that she is still amongst my absolute favorites. It probably helps that she was made wlw in the tv series and has some shippy moments with Cornelia in particular.

Balalaika (Black lagoon)

Listen, she is an ex military woman, who went MIA with her entire squad of loyal soldiers and now runs the fucking mafia in Roanapur. Woman is gorgeous and has acid burn scars all down her face and body. And she is terrifying. She will break necks with a smile and values loyalty and efficiency above all else. But she is such a deeply damaged woman who deserved better. But see, the people in Roanapur are there cause this is their last stand before they end up dead.