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#so even if those posts do get shared they rarely go far and even if they do they dont stick around
aroaceleovaldez · 4 months
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i mean it when i say we've gotta bring back askblogs. bring back making character chat posts with poor choice text colors over random backgrounds. bring back blogs dedicated to what outfits you think characters would wear.
fandom is an ecosystem, not a numbers game. these types of blogs/posts/etc still exist in concept, because people still want to make them and they're a great way to get your thoughts of an idea out in a simple format, but most people make them on like tiktok or instagram reels and that's where the problem lies. Those videos don't go anywhere. The format doesn't allow for the discussion to spread through the community and they're less likely to be engaged with in general. And to make them most people have to either show their face or figure out editing software, so the barrier to entry is higher (editing) and/or they have to forfeit an amount of privacy.
those types of posts/blogs are the first rung of the ecosystem. they're the perfect environment for younger members of the fandom to begin safely interacting with the larger community and putting their own thoughts and ideas out there. roleplay is the other major spot for that and those communities are diminishing as well, honestly (if you know of an rp forum board site, cherish it. and if you can make one, make one). they allow younger fans to begin engaging with the source material on a different/deeper level, but still at a very low barrier to entry, and begin conversations with other fans, which also helps them build skills which in turn may encourage them to pursue other avenues within the fandom (fic writing, other formats of askblog - which itself usually leads to art, cosplay, also fic writing, etc). Without those places to build those skills, they might feel discouraged from trying to begin when surrounded by curated people who have built their skills up for years.
And those conversations they foster also in turn help the community, by offering ideas to artists or fic writers to extrapolate on or building community jokes. And that text/blog format specifically is extremely beneficial, because it allows younger members of the fandom to remain anonymous and keep their privacy without concerning themselves with having any platform or having anything attached to them (very important for young fans figuring themselves out and navigating online community spaces for the first time, since they can remove themselves from spaces easily if they decide they don't like it and they're protected, rather than PUTTING THEIR FACE ON THE INTERNET). And those posts they make will spread a lot more into the community since they're in a significantly easier format to be reposted (few people are gonna be reposting tons of random short-form videos versus spamming their instagrams with reposts of 10 random fandom images yoinked from tumblr, or reposting to pinterest or something). Like, don't repost art, at the VERY least don't repost without credit, but also I am not ignorant to the fact that my art is not just the first google image result for "pjo pride" and related searches, but also the 4th, the 6th, the 9th, the 10th, the 11th, etc etc., and pops up in the search results before the official ReadRiordan does simply because people reposted my work more (most with credit, thankfully).
For fandom to be a community, it needs to perpetuate itself. There needs to be engagement with one another and conversation. If that bottom rung is cut off, then new fans won't be able to grow into the other niches of the fandom, and the fandom will be solely reliant on the source material and die out extremely quickly, and there won't be a community. There's no conversation! There's no reason to stay beyond the original material! But if you don't have points of entry for new fans, they won't have any way to build the skills needed to move into those niches, or engage with the community in a healthy way.
tl;dr: Bring back askblogs and character-based text post blogs. They are vital to fandom ecosystem.
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minarisplaything · 4 months
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High Rise ft. IVE Wonyoung
Pairing: IVE Wonyoung x Male Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2.4k Tags: Daddy kink, Exhibitionism, Choking A/N: i said i would didn't i? probably the fastest i've made a fic recently which also means please excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes you find. might not be my best work but it sure was fun to write o7 Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction/parody
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Dating a k-pop idol wasn’t easy. Especially when you were a so-called commoner. There were the obvious reasons, like you had to keep your relationship a secret until they reached their thirties, if you made it that long.And the not-so-obvious reasons; like watching your girlfriend parade around in sexy stage outfits and having to contain your desire to fuck her in them.
Or maybe that was just you.
When your girlfriend was Jang Wonyoung, a hyper-popular It girl – you cringed at even thinking those words aloud – the restrictions were even worse. Like that one time you had wanted to bring her flowers at her group's concert in Seoul and had to be snuck backstage with a bag over your head. Or the time someone had caught the two of you flirting candidly and Wonyoung blurted out that you were her cousin to save face. Embarrassing but somehow also cute when it came from her.
All this was to say it wasn’t easy.
But it certainly wasn’t without its benefits.
“Fuck, that one looks so good, princess,” you praised.
You snapped another photo as Wonyoung posed, biting her bottom lips and giving the camera a smoldering look. She hooked her fingers into her hip-hugging jeans, tugging them slightly as you quickly snapped another series of photos.
Honestly, you were somewhat shocked when Wonyoung told you her idea. It had felt provocative, mature even, and thus far each photo had proved that assumption right. But you rarely, if ever said no to her, even if her motivations were somewhat questionable. In fact, you wondered if this was all your fault.
“You left a like on Yuna-nim’s photo,” Wonyoung had said at the time. Her tone carried an accusatory hint.
“Did I?” you had stammered, trying to play naive. “I was just scrolling my feed and must’ve double tapped.”
“So you follow them?”
“Them?”
“Other girl groups,” Wonyoung clarified.
One thing you had learned about the IVE princess was that while she was sweet as a button on most days, she carried a jealous streak that verged on volatile. Sharing was not in her programming, least of all when it came to you.
You had recognized the trap forming but it had been too late. “Well, I mean, just to keep up. You know you do challenges sometimes and appear on their feeds.”
Her arms crossed over her chest, hip cocked to the side and slight pout was all the answer you needed.
That week you had gone without any physical contact from your girlfriend. Though she made sure to send you the filthiest selfies possible throughout. Which, oddly, worked. Because no matter how much you touched yourself to the photos she sent, it didn’t compare to the real thing.
It had seemed like the incident was over and in the past but as you snapped a few more photos of Wonyoung by the windowsill, you briefly wondered if this stemmed from it as well.
“Are you sure you’re going to post these on Instagram?” you asked, after a particularly racy photo.
“Mhm,” Wonyoung nodded. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. Remember the bathroom?”
“Oh, I remember.”
You also remembered the ones that hadn’t made it to social media and were sent directly to you. But this still felt even more daring than this.
“How many likes do you think this will get?” she asked, coolly, giving the camera a sultry look. An innocent question. At least on the surface. But you remembered her comment one night as you two relaxed together.
“Besides, it’s to promote the sponsor, that’s all. This will get the most engagements,” she added. Her gaze dropped and a small smirk formed on her lips, “In fact, I’d say it’s already working.”
You followed her gaze, looking down to see a rather obvious tent had formed in your sweatpants. You laughed, a flush coloring your cheeks. “Well, shit. Can you blame me?”
“I guess I can’t,” Wonyoung said coolly.
The way she unbuttoned the top button of her jeans, spoke to more mischief however.
“Wony,” you wet your dry lips, “Are we still doing the shoot?”
“Mhm “ she nodded cutely, “Of course.”
She did another pose, pushing the waist of the jeans down to expose the lace underwear she had on underneath.
“You know, I love it up here. It’s perfect,” Wonyoung said. “Don’t you agree?”
“Yeah…” you muttered, more focused on the sight of her exposed abs and smooth skin than her question.
By here she was referring to the penthouse you were using for the photoshoot. Funny enough, she could easily afford a place like this on her own. Though that would only spur on more talk about inequality among the rookie group.
“Being so high up…” she turned her head to look out the window. Your breath caught as you watched delicate fingers slip inside of her jeans. “We can see everything but no one can see us. Even if we were naked against this window they’d never know…”
Now you weren’t the smartest bulb in the room. In fact, sometimes you wondered if it was your self-proclaimed himbo status that Wonyoung liked most about you. But even you could put two and two together. And Wonyoung’s words combined with the side-eyed glance she was giving you were all screaming one thing.
“I could show my naked body to all of Seoul and no one. would. know.”
Her tongue pronounced every syllable while she locked eyes with you. As sweet and kind as Wonyoung could be she had an undeniable minx side to her. You were also fairly certain your girlfriend got off on the power high of being such a desired person but you had never actually confirmed that.
If you were starting to get hard when she pointed it out earlier, you were practically aching now. You tossed your phone onto the couch and made your way over to where Wonyoung was by the window. She let out a delighted squeal as you pushed her up against the glass, kissing her passionately.
Your hands moved against her stomach, feeling her toned abs that were shown off by the outfit she was wearing. Honestly, you should send a bouquet to whatever designer sent this to her to promote. You nipped at Wonyoung's bottom lip, your hands sliding into her unbuttoned pants to squeeze her ass.
"It took you long enough," Wonyoung gasped, mischief gleaming in her eyes. "I thought was going to have to beg you to fuck me."
Your cock twitched, straining painfully against your jeans, "You still could you know."
She must have been in a good mood because the idol looked at you with large eyes, biting on her bottom lip. "Please fuck me against the window, daddy."
Oh.
You see, it had taken some time but you learned that your girlfriend had two modes. The arrogant queen who knew all of Seoul was her playground and made you worship at her feet. Then there was the submissive princess who begged to be pleased until she was satisfied. Often her mood was some mixture of the two but neither one left you unsatisfied.
"If that's what the Princess wants," you growled.
A delighted smile crossed the idol's features followed by another joyful squeal when you spun her around to face the window. Her hands rose, catching herself as she turned her head to look over her shoulder. You could see the aroused flush creeping up her neck and coloring her round cheeks.
"Didn't you say something about showing everyone your tits?" you whispered in her ear.
Not waiting for a response, you pulled her top down, exposing her tits to the cool glass of the window earning a gasp from Wonyoung in response. You pressed further against her, the bulge in your pants pushing against her ass.
"This whole shoot was just to rile me up, wasn't it?" you said, your breath hot against the shell of her ear. Your hands moved quickly to yank the jean pants she was wearing, exposing the white lace panties that she had teased you with a peek of earlier.
"Maybe," Wonyoung mewled, arching her back perfectly.
Your hands hooked into the waistband of her panties, sliding them down to reveal her bare ass to your hungry gaze, "Bullshit. You knew what you were doing."
"Maybe I just wanted to remind you of what's right in front of you," she said.
There it was. That switch up she was capable of. It also confirmed your theory that your girlfriend hadn't exactly forgiven and forgotten about the Instagram incident. Well, there was no time better than now to put the matter to bed. You gripped your cock, slipping it between her legs to get it slick from her dripping sex.
"Oh, I'm well aware of what's in front of me," you started. Slowly you began to slip your thick cock inside of her, inch by inch with each syllable. "The most beautiful." More. "Talented." More. "Gorgeous." More. "Perfect." More. "Princess."
"Fuck!" Wonyoung moaned, her forehead bracing against the window.
"Is the princess feeling full?"
"So, so full…" she cooed.
"And I didn't even get to mention how good a girlfriend you are," you teased.
You could feel her pussy quivering around your length, stretching to accommodate the familiar intrusion of your cock. Wonyoung's hands were splayed against the windows of the high-rise, her ass pushed out and into you. She was on full display and only you were lucky enough to see it.
You could take it slow with steady, languid strokes, gently fucking your girlfriend against the window. But something told you that wasn't what she nor you wanted at that moment. Your fingers flexed around her waist, pulling out your cock until just the tip remained inside of her before thrusting your entire length back inside of her. Wonyoung's body jolted with pleasure as she braced her nude body against the window.
"This is what you wanted isn't it?" Harder. "To know how much you turn me on." Faster. "To see how fucking hard you get me." Deeper. "No one else makes me like this." Repeat.
A mixture of mewls and moans fell from the idol's mouth at your relentless rhythm. Her head fell forward, her cheek pressed up against the glass. Perspiration was starting to form across her flawless skin and you had to resist the urge to lean forward and lick it up. You wanted to prove a point, to fuck Wonyoung to the point of exhaustion for the whole city to see. After that maybe you'd enjoy the little perversions.
"You probably say that to every - fuck - every girl," Wonyoung panted, glancing at you from over her shoulder. "You're probably just waiting to move onto the next idol you're drooling over."
She didn't say it with enough conviction for you to believe she truly felt that way. For starters, while Wonyoung may get jealous, she was not insecure. At least, not enough to ever think another idol was above her. It was more often a toxic possessive kind of jealousy. But nonetheless, in the heat of the moment you'd take the bait.
"Is that what you think?" he said, your breathing growing heavy with your harsh thrust. Conversation wasn't exactly easy at this pace. "Did you miss what I said earlier, huh?"
One hand moved from her waist to slip around Wonyoung's throat. She inhaled sharply, her breath catching in her throat as you squeezed. For a passing second there was no sound save for the repeated slaps of skin against skin as your hips were flush against Wonyoung's ass each time you entered her.
"I only want you," you finally gasp. "Always you."
Rather than another vulgar display to go along with your words, you merely lean over her, capturing her lips in a sideways kiss. It's messy and imperfect but it's also loving and passionate. Your tongues dance together all while your bodies remain intertwined. You can feel Wonyoung pussy quivering around your cock intensely as she moans into your mouth. When you pull back, you look at your girlfriend with a raised eyebrow.
"Did you just cum from that?" you asked.
"S-shut up," Wonyoung retorted. You noticed a bright red hue of embarrassment coloring her cheeks before she hid her face, "Don't stop until you finish inside of me,"
It was always adorable when she continued trying to be dominant after her own orgasm. However, her words had an undeniable effect on you. "If that's what the princess wants."
You returned to the task at hand, focusing your efforts solely on chasing your first release and Wonyoung's second orgasm.
"Daddy," Wonyoung mewled, finding her voice. "I want you to cum, daddy. I want you to cum deep inside my tight pussy.""
You had a sinking suspicion that her words were payback for causing her embarrassing moments earlier. Her attempt at provoking you to blow your load sooner than you had intended to.
Regardless it worked to immediate effect. Your hips jerked, slamming against hers from behind. Your sweat-drenched body pressed flush against Wonyoung, pushing her up against the high-rise window. Your cock twitched, ropes of your sticky seed shooting inside of her womb as her walls convulsed around your length.
Of course the two things that pushed her over the edge would be you saying how you loved her and her revelling the power she had to make you cum on the spot. Truly a representative of her duality.
After a moment had passed and you began to regain your bearings you pressed a kiss to Wonyoung's shoulder.
"That was incredible, Wony," you muttered.
"I know," she said, her form practically radiating. "You weren't bad either."
You let out a chuckle, placing another lazy kiss to her skin, "Maybe we should've included that in the photoshoot."
Wonyoung smiled but didn't immediately respond. After a moment of delay she turned in your arms to look at you.
"Did you mean all those things you said?" she asked.
Her wide eyes looked at you and you reached up to brush aside a strand of sweat soaked hair. There was no hesitation in your response when you answered her.
"Absolutely. And don't you think otherwise for a second."
A smile beamed across the idol's face and she leaned forward, burying her face into your neck. Your arms wrapped around her and quietly you wondered if you weren't the luckiest man in the world.
BUY ME A COFFEE - if you enjoy my stories considering buying me a coffee! always appreciated, never required.
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alphabetboyluvr · 10 months
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once the thrill expires | jjk
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title credit: cardigan - taylor swift
pairing: college!jungkook x female reader
synopsis:
your housemate-turned-fwb takes another girl home after a night out
warnings: angsty, smutty turmoil. it's not that bad, but it definitely isn't a happy lil number. fingering, oral sex (f receiving), rimming (f receiving), vaginal sex, doggy, protected (!!) sex, lil spanks, jaykay sorta makes out with her ear???, jaykay is a fawk boy who needs to learn self-control, oc is holding out for something that'll never happen, multiple partners in one night (jk), jk calls the reader diz (dizzy)
wordcount: 5.8K
note from holly: virgo boy trauma for you in the form of a jk one shot lmao. it's rare you get virgo boy shit laid this bare but he he i love oversharing on the internet! there's an old paragraph from yet another virgo boy fic hidden in here, too so if you think it looks familiar, that'll be why!!
minors dni // cross posted to wattpad
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The knock on your en-suite bathroom door comes as a surprise. 
The subsequent twist of the lock mechanism from a coin wedged in the bolt on the other side does not. 
There’s only one person it would be.
And so you don’t yell. Don’t tell him to go away, even if you do hug your legs into your chest a little tighter. 
Sitting on the floor of your shower, dignity is preserved - but with skin as red as the flags that Jungkook freely hands you, and mascara staining your cheeks from the onslaught of piping hot water showering down on you, how dignified can you really be?
No words are spoken as the steam billows from the room, Jungkook not caring to shut the door behind himself. He takes a perch on the closed lid of the toilet, elbows to his knees, tattooed hands clasped beneath his chin. Refuses to look anywhere other than you.
There’s perplexion to his taut jaw - a frown embedded in his brows - but more than anything, there’s an overwhelming sense of confusion in his soft eyes. You’re unaware of the way he’s mirroring your expression back at you; how defeated you look, wet hair sticking to the side of your face, an emptiness in your gaze that is pale in comparison to the void in your chest.
With nothing but the pitter-patter of your shower to fill the space, you’re thankful that he can’t hear the way your heart is beating, or how you’re sniffing back the tears you were freely crying before he arrived.
“Jem messaged me,” he eventually says, quiet beneath the sound of the water. Leaning back, he wipes a palm over his face, then pushes it back into his dishevelled hair. Lets his hand fall between his legs, then shrugs as he looks at you as if to say, 'Don’t look at me like that' or 'It’s not my fault.'
And realistically, you know that it isn’t. Whatever he’s done is within the parameters of what was agreed upon. The way you feel - like Jungkook has stolen the moon and stopped the tides from turning - is not.
It’s not like either of you had ever expected to let things get this far, and definitely not for this long.
What had started as quiet kisses in the corners of clubs when your friends weren’t looking, had catapulted into drunken hook-ups after those aforementioned nights out. 
He’d call you Dizzy, ‘cause he was convinced you looked at him like you’d been spinning in circles, all awe-struck and smiley. Pretty. Like a giggle was on the tip of your tongue at all times.
Was easy, back then. Convenient. He was newly single. Not looking for anything. 
You’d been quietly harbouring an illicit crush on him from the day you moved into your shared university accommodation. Had been waiting for the stars to align - and once they had, you were certain that soulmates had to exist.
It’s the only way you can explain the small earthquake that happened half the world away at the very time you first met, the tectonic plates shifting to make sure you were perfectly presented to one another. 
You didn’t feel the tremors - would have been impossible - but your heart certainly felt something. Adrenaline? Limerence? You’re not sure.
Whatever it was only became more and more prevalent with every tipsy hold of his hand on the way to clubs, or moments stolen in secrecy in the house you now share with six of your friends. 
Now in your final year of university, if you spent as much time studying, as you do fretting over Jungkook - what he’s up to, who he’s with - maybe you’d get a first-class degree.
You’re on track for a 2:1.
He’s on track for a first, though. 
You choose to believe it’s because he’s naturally more academically inclined (as if you didn’t write an entire paper for him last semester), and not because he spends significantly less time thinking about you.
There’s no need for endless thoughts, though. 
The arrangement is simple: You’re friends. 
Best friends. Spend all your time together. Are plus ones to events. Fill the void that a partner should fill; at the winter balls, cinema screenings you don't want to see alone, and in the hushed privacy of midnight intimacy. He gets you off when you need it, and you him. 
Kisses are never shared between lips - apart from that one summer when he accidentally said he was in love with you, then took it back a week later under the guise of not wanting to ‘ruin’ the friendship. 
You don’t speak about that summer.
Hook-ups are in your room, always, ‘cause you’ve only got Jem in the room next door. Jungkook’s room is up on the middle floor, surrounded by all the boys. They’d realise what’s going on far too quickly.
It’s simple - yet excruciatingly complicated when there’s a lack of commitment, and Jungkook looks at you in the way that he does. 
His lips are a little deeper than their usual pink this evening, but you put it down to alcohol. 
Denial is a wonderful thing, and delusion even greater.
Still, he leans forward to push the shower door open. Leans further still, then knocks the tap off. Lets the water trickle down the drain, the hum of the pipes murmuring like your unspoken grievances. 
Rivulets of water chase down your skin. Jungkook watches one race from your knee to your ankle, running straight over the bruises from messy nights out and the small cut at the bottom of your calf from the fountain you’d both traipsed through when you were a little too merry a few nights prior. 
He’d given you a piggyback the entire way home, blood staining the white of his shirt; the very essence of you embedded now in the fabric of him. 
He’d patched you up after you got home. Showered with you, right here, then carried you the measly five or six steps to your bed. Had told you that you’d definitely get sepsis and die. Kissed it better, then decided he didn’t know any better, and trailed his lips up your leg. Took pity on your impending death and gave you a little, lovely death just to soften the blow. 
Funny, how you think sepsis would be preferable over whatever the fuck it is that you’re feeling now.
“Jem messaged me,” he repeats. Presses his lips together, the ring in the corner of his mouth glistening under the white lights of the bathroom.  “Said I should check on you. Been in the shower for an hour, apparently.”
Well, you think to yourself, bitterness wrapping around your words like poison ivy. You’ve checked. You can go now.
The words don’t manifest in your throat. Nothing does. Not even the echo of a sob you’ve been holding in since he first stepped foot within your sanctuary.
Instead you’re silent as you get to your feet, not caring for your nakedness. It’s nothing Jungkook hasn’t seen before. Probably knows your body better than his own at this point. Can look at the faded bruise on your chest and know that it was left there by his lips last week. Can pick out which ones of your dainty linework tattoos were there before he met you, and which ones have been acquired since.
It’s a quiet intimacy, the way Jungkook looks at you. There’s no towel in the bathroom - an oversight by your tipsy brain when deciding you needed to wash yourself clean of the man in front of you after arriving home from the club - and Jungkook doesn’t care to offer you one. 
Insanity is the product of looking at your body, he thinks. Can’t remember a time he’s ever seen you like this and hasn’t wanted to be inside you. He’s a simple man in pursuit of simple pleasures, and the way you fit him like a glove is the simplest pleasure of them all. 
“Hm?” He questions your lack of a response. 
His deep black eyes are just like the depths of the ocean floor, and it feels like he’s dragging you right down every single time he looks at you like this. Softly. Tenderly. Sweetly. As if he actually gives a shit.
There’s no room for two in this bathroom. It’s not a space designed to be shared, no matter how many times you’ve both squeezed into the shower under far different circumstances - though now you come to think of it, perhaps they weren’t so dissimilar. 
It was always Jungkook’s pursuit of pleasure that put you in that position, just like it put you there tonight.
“Hey,” he says quietly, as you turn to leave, his grip on your waist pulling you between his legs. You don’t look at him. Just keep your head turned to face out of the room - but you make no attempt to leave. Especially when his nose brushes up against the bottom of your ribs right between your breasts, and he husks, “Why are you being like this?”
The softness of his lips as he presses them against your sternum, long lashes splayed across the top of his cheeks, has you spiralling. Kind of feels like he’s twisting a corkscrew through your heart. You know he’ll rip it right out - but maybe you’ll let him, if it means he’ll kiss the wound better.
“Hmm?” He hums. One of your hands rests on his shoulder, the other in his hair, and that’s how Jungkook knows he’s rectified the damage done for a short while. It’s like putting washi tape over holes punched in the walls - useless, and bound to fall off eventually, but ever so pretty in the meantime. Another washi-tape kiss is pressed to your skin, a little higher this time. “We had a good night, didn’t we?”
The tenderness of his voice rewrites the events of the evening. A good night. 
Not one with tears, and jealousy, and arguments that people who claim to be just friends have no business having. A night shared together, perhaps, with no one else to intrude.
Didn’t we?
You so prefer this false chain of events - the one where he left the bar with you, and held your hand in the cab ride back just like he’d done in the cab ride there.
“Is she still here?”
He’s surprised that you’re mentioning it. Half-expected you to act like it never happened. Like she never happened. Is what you usually do, whenever he goes home with someone that isn’t you. 
Still, he just continues to gently stroke your sides. Doesn’t present you with any sort of weakness.
“No.”
“Did you fuck her?”
There’s a little venom to your tone; the poison ivy around your thoughts sprouting now from your throat. 
Her. Some inconsequential girl that neither of you will likely ever see again. Looked nothing like you, but a hell of a lot like his ex. 
“No, Diz,” he softens the sternness of his tone with a name only he calls you. “I didn’t fuck her.”
You’ve no idea if this is a lie or not. 
It’ll be accepted as truth for an hour. Maybe two. Just enough time for you to convince yourself that you’re the one he wants. That he couldn’t bear to fuck anyone else. That he sent her on her way after a kiss or awkward fumble, because he realised no one else could feel as good as you.
You’ll ignore the fact you know he’s here because Jem messaged him. 
You’ll ignore the fact he thinks you’ve been in the shower for over an hour, and has no actual knowledge of the events of it all. 
You’ll ignore the scratch mark on his back, and in the morning you’ll believe it was you who left there even though your nails are bitten right down.
The lies you’ll tell yourself will be far more grand than the ones Jungkook ever tells you. Nobody can ever hurt you quite like you hurt yourself.
And so, against your better judgement, you let him follow you to your bed. 
There's a clang as he tosses his rings down into the ceramic dish beside your bed. It's white, and speckled in tiny black dots, and matches the one Jungkook has in his own bedroom. Not really a surprise. He was the one who bought it for you. Before then, he used to just tuck his rings beneath your pillows - but he kept losing them, and he found it annoying having to rummage around for them whenever he was trying to make a silent exit so as to not wake you.
You tell yourself that small things like this are Jungkook's way of integrating himself into your life; creating permanence. In reality, it's just something that makes it easier for him to leave.
Leaving is the last thing on your mind right now, though, and it will be until he comes.
It used to be different. He used to stay. You convince yourself each and every time that he’ll do what he used to do before things got so confusing. That he’ll stay, and that things will be okay.
You let him kiss your skin, but he’ll never kiss your lips. Let him lay claim to your body, even though you know he’ll never lay claim to your soul. 
It’s nice to pretend.
Nice, when he lays you down and rids himself of his shirt. Nice, when he presses your legs apart, and looks at you like you’re the first woman he’s ever laid eyes upon. Nice, when he says shit like, “Such a nice cunt,” and “Let me make you feel good.”
So nice, when he strokes up and down your inner thigh, eyes trained on your pussy. 
So, so nice when he slowly drips a little spit between his pursed lips and watches as it trails down your folds. 
So fucking nice, when he spreads you with his index and middle finger, groaning at the sight of you.
See, Jungkook can be nice. Can be honest. Can tell you how much he wants you, and you can believe him without having to do mental gymnastics over it all.
As he sinks his middle finger into you - “Shit. So wet for me, aren’t you?” - Jungkook is on his best behaviour. He’ll make you feel so good that you’ll forget he ever made you feel bad, cause he needs this. Needs you. 
Not in the life-debilitating, earth-shattering, universe-bending way that you need him, but in a way that isn’t too dissimilar. 
You’re his best friend. He loves you in his own, curious way. Would lay his life on the line for you. Just can’t seem to keep his dick in his pants for no other reason than selfish gluttony. 
It’s his fatal flaw, but he just thinks everyone has them. That most people are like this.
Of the seven deadly sins, Jungkook wields them all. Too proud to admit his wrongdoings. Greedy in his need to have everything life can offer, and how he refuses to limit himself to just you. His lust and gluttony go hand in hand - yet whenever any one else with similar predispositions look in your direction, he turns green with envy. Green, until he’s red, wrath taking hold. 
But he’s lazy, too. Far too settled in how easy it is to have his way with you. Why would he try harder when you never make him?
That’s your cardinal sin: desperation. 
It reeks. Spiced vanilla and black cherry. Tarnishes your skin, until Jungkook licks it from you.
And so as his lips press down your legs, wet and wanting, you don’t object. In fact, you don’t really do anything. You just allow it to happen.
Because you are desperate - for him, his approval, his desire. His heart.
You’ll never get it, mind you, for his heart is hollow. 
Saw every example of what he considered to be true love crackle and crumble until it fell apart. Parents divorced. High-school sweetheart cheated. Love, as you know it, doesn’t exist in Jungkook’s understanding of life. 
You never stood a chance. Not really.
The only times his heart is full is when he steals enough adoration from yours, and cosplays it as his own. Shines it back at you, and tricks you into thinking that maybe he did mean it when he mumbled false declarations into your lips.
But that was three summers ago, now, and Jungkook is a creature of habit. Too stuck in his ways to ever change. Comfortable in this chaos with you.
‘Cause while the other girls are fleeting, and fun, and always very nice, they’re never comfortable. Not like you are. 
“I liked your dress tonight,” he whispers, as he pushes a second finger into you. Pumps them gently, palm skywards, coaxing soft little moans from your lips. Curls them just right, just like he always does.
The affection of such a compliment rids you of the haunting way he’d looked at you earlier that evening. 
Up, down. No smile. Turned away to change the song coming through the aux at pre-drinks. Didn’t look at you again until he was passing out shots for everyone to take. Just nodded towards your necklace - the one his hobbyist silversmith mother made you for Christmas - and asked, “You like it?”
The pendant is small. Embossed with the letters DJ - the name his mother collectively calls you whenever you spend the summer together at his place. The hammered edge of the pendant matches the ring that wraps around your thumb. Another one of her creations, gifted to you by him for your birthday.
“Of course I do,” you’d said. Seemed silly for him to ask. You wear it most days. 
“Good,” he’d nodded, then took his shot and pretended as if he wasn't all too aware that your dress would be attracting good-for-nothing men all night.
See, Jungkook knows you like the necklace. Had just been reminding you of it, and the fact it’s his initial on there with the initial only he calls you. Well, him and his mother. Goes with the territory. 
She’s seen you through your formative years. Only ever sees the good parts, because Jungkook orchestrates it that way.
She doesn’t see the moments like these, when he’s crushed your self esteem and tries to fix it in the most idiotic of ways. 
The necklace pools around the base of your throat as your head tips back into the pillows, his thumb coming to toy with your clit, gently pressing down.
“Shush, Diz,” he smiles, so pleased to see your body responding in the way that it always does. “You’ll get us in trouble.”
God forbid the people you live with - who’ve all heard the arguments after his illicit encounters with randomers, and seen his face of thunder whenever you’re getting ready for first dates - ever figure out you’re fucking. Not like it’s obvious in the slightest. Not why Jem texted Jungkook, instead of checking on you herself.
Biting onto your wrist, you try and stifle the impact of his touch - ‘cause if they do hear, it will be your fault. You’ll be the reason everyone knows your dirty little secrets. You’ll be the one who ruins it all. Not him. Just you. 
He doesn’t mean to condition you in such a way. Doesn’t even really realise he’s doing it.
Nor do you - but your self esteem is shot to shit. You’re good enough to fuck, but not good enough to love, even if Jungkook insists that there’s no one he adores more. It always comes with an add-on of ‘you’re my best friend’, or ‘you wouldn’t wanna date me anyways’.
Maybe he’s right.
But maybe it would have been nice to try.
Shame.
The pace of Jungkook’s fingers pumping into you begins to slow. Leaking around the base of his knuckles, you’re just as wet as you always are with him. Even when the emotional labour of letting him have his way with you feels like a ten tonne weight on your chest, crushing down on your ribs and spoiling you forevermore, your body still wants him. Only him. Always him.
Withdrawing his fingers, Jungkook taps the outer side of your thigh. “On your front for me, Diz. Face down, ass up.”
With anyone else, Jungkook is far more often on the receiving end. It’s a shame, ‘cause his talents go to waste, it’s just what he’s found to be typical of random hook-ups.
He loves pussy. Loves eating it. Loves that you love it, too.
Slow as he spreads your ass with his hands, Jungkook really doesn’t fuck around with wasting time. He dives in without hesitation, burying his tongue between your folds. Cares not for accuracy, nor carefulness. Just wants his tongue all over you.
Your body lurches forward, hands clutching onto the duvet beneath you. He’s always been like this. Hungry. Just as desperate as you so often feel, but better at hiding it than you are.
His tongue laps against you. Sinks into your soaked hole as deep as he can get it. Uses one of his hands to reach around and toy with your clit while he continues to explore somewhere he knows like the back of his hand.
Pulling back a little, Jungkook’s breathing is heavy. You can hear it. Groan, as he grips your ass again. Spanks it softly, then get back to his previous position. Licks a stripe from your clit up to your leaking cunt, then continues. Flicks up against the tight muscle you rarely let him fuck around with.
But you want him to want you. Want him to have you in whichever capacity he so desires. 
You reach back. Tangle a hand in his hair, and encourage him to massage your tight hole with his tongue, like you know he loves to do. 
It’s kinda cute, in a way. He likes doing it, ‘cause he loves the way it feels whenever your tongue toys with his ass. Assumes other people must love it too. Just wants you to feel good. Wants to right his earlier wrongs.
He continues to trace up and down both your holes, stimulating your entire body in the process. Rubs your clit with his fingers, till you're writhing against the sheets, body pressed flat to the cotton as Jungkook begins to fuck his fingers into your again. 
“You gonna cum for me?” He husks, a smile on his wet lips as he watches the tell-tale sign of an orgasm rush over you. Soon, you’ll be looking at him with dizzy eyes once more, and your namesake will make Jungkook feel things he pretends he can’t feel. “That’s it, Diz. All over my fingers. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.”
There’s a relief that comes with your orgasm for Jungkook. Hope that you’ll stop being mardy with him. He doesn’t like it when you don’t like him. These days, he keeps making choices that make it hard for you to like him. 
But you always like him - like him so much - in the comedown of a climax.
He doesn’t give you much time to recover. Wants to coax a second orgasm from you while he still can. Pulls you back into position - face down, ass up - and pushes down his sweats. Cock hard, there’s a small damp patch in his boxers from the precum he’s leaked for you. Lines himself up. 
“Let me fuck you,” he begs before he pushes into you.
“Uh-uh,” you full forward a little, preventing him from doing what he so desperately wants to do. Turning to look over your shoulder, you shake your head. “Condom.”
He furrows his brows. Has the audacity to look fucking offended, as if he didn’t bring another girl back to the house you share.
You’re stupid, and you’re desperate, and you make all the wrong choices, but you aren’t naive. Not really. Your delusions and denial are always elevated away from reality, of which you like to think you have a firm grip on.
And so you simply say, “Don’t believe you didn’t fuck her.”
He doesn’t deny it. Shakes his head, not that you can see it. Just reaches to the shelf above your bed, and gets one from the pot you keep them tucked away in. Rarely ever use them. It’s a novelty, more than not, when you use them. Something to make him last a little longer.
It’s different today.
Today, it’s because you don’t know if his cock is fucking clean or not.
It should crush you, but it doesn’t. 
Just a fact of life. Jungkook fucked someone else less than three hours ago. Came, probably. For someone else. Over someone else. Inside someone else. 
But that desperation of yours is back once more. You want to be the reason why Jungkook loses his mind in temporary bliss. To be better. To be his last memory of the evening.
And so as Jungkook rolls the condom down his thick shaft, you position yourself perfectly for him. Whimper as the tip of his cock kisses your entrance. Whine, as he pushes inside you. 
“That’s it,” he husks, gripping your ass cheeks to spread them nice and wide. Looking down to where your bodies meet, Jungkook is reminded of why he enjoys you so much. No one takes him so well. No one. He knows this. Doesn’t know why the fuck he ever feels the need to seek out anyone else. They’re never as good as this. “Fuck. That’s it, baby.”
Your hips roll back, ass bouncing in that hypnotic way he always swears will ruin him. His grip loosens to let you do the hard work, one of his hands stroking up your spine until it’s resting around the base of your throat. 
Taking back a little control, he keeps your head pushed into the pillows. Grunts. “Take this cock so fuckin’ well, don’t you?”
The mumble you moan into the sheets isn’t enough for him. He always does this. Asserts control and then realises he actually kinda fuckin’ hates it. Fingers still wrapped around the base of your neck, Jungkook pulls you up.
Chest pressed to your back, Jungkook wastes no time locking you in place with an arm around the front of your waist. His cock continues to pump upwards into you, the movements a little subdued but by no means lacking. 
The ridge of his thick head rubs up against your sweet spot. Gets you so fucking needy. Has your hand dipping to your clit to match the pressure.
And when you do? Oh, it’s heaven. You can’t help but whine - so Jungkook uses the hand that isn't on your waist to cover your mouth.
“You only get to cum if you’re quiet,” he tells you. “Be quiet for me, baby.”
But his hips are erratic. The sounds are lewd; skin on skin. It’s wet. Disgusting. Needy. Him, just as much as you. Sweat blossoms on his skin, keeping you both in this clammy haze of hedonism. 
Catching his lips on your ear, Jungkook doesn’t care if he isn’t supposed to let kisses linger so close to your lips. Tongue wet, he intrudes. Licks the shell of your ear. Grazes his teeth on your lobe. Whispers, “You looked so pretty tonight,” then drags his tongue across your ear. 
Cares not for precision nor accuracy, just the fact that this is an area of the body he doesn’t often explore, and that maybe he should do it more often, given how tightly your pussy is clamping around him.
There’s something about it - the obstruction of one of your senses likely to blame, sound distorted whenever his tongue licks against it - that makes you whine. 
You can’t even really do that now. Are too muffled beneath his hand - until he pushes the two fingers that had been inside your pussy earlier into your mouth. 
The taste is just the same as it always is whenever he does shit like this. Loves having you taste yourself. Experiencing what he experiences. Wants you to know exactly why he’s incapable of letting you go.
“Slutty little mouth,” he smirks against your ear. “Gonna finish in it.”
“Mhhm?” you mumble against the fingers you’re keeping wet and warm for him.
“Mhmm,” he replies. Presses a kiss to your temple, ‘cause he isn’t really thinking straight. Groans when your cunt clenches from the touch. “God, you want it, don’t you? Want it so bad. Wanna swallow my cum.”
Of course you do. You’ll take what he’ll give you. 
Your mumble around his fingers isn’t enough. He wants to hear you say it. Frees your mouth of himself. Grips your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Turns you to face further over your shoulder.
He’s just gonna make you say it. Just make you say something lewd to get him a little closer. Just… Just gonna… Just...- Oh, fuck it. Your lips are just there, and they’re wet, and they’re pouty and - God, forgive me - perfect for him.  
His eyes flitter between your eyes and your lips. Is aware you’re doing the same. 
“Kook,” you whisper, as if you’re about to reprimand him.
“Please,” he begs. Thinks he needs this just as much as you do. Maybe even more so.
And so somewhere between the overwhelming acknowledgement that this is a catastrophic chain of events, and the promise of a happy ending (of which you know damn well will never reach fruition), you let him sink his lips into yours.
You’re pretty in war, and even prettier in defeat. 
Jungkook thinks you’re prettiest when you’re all his. 
You think that to be his is to accept an eternal loss. 
The breath of his nose is heavy against your cheek as his lips press into yours, brows furrowed. The need for you to be lewd is abandoned, ‘cause Jungkook doesn’t even think he’ll last long enough for it. Thinks that nothing gets him closer than the flavour of your lips. 
Hips still jerking up, the sound of his skin hitting your ass echoing around the room, Jungkook fucks himself into you until he can do it no longer. Pulls away. Rips off his condom. Tosses it to the floor. Gets you face down again. Wanks himself to the point of coming undone, hot spurts of cum dripping onto your ass and spilling down to the valley of your spine.
He’s the one moaning now, your body defiled by a boy who you wish would paint you in pretty compliments instead. Still, this is a compliment. Kind of. You’re hot enough to make him cum. That’s nice, you suppose.
“Shit,” he chokes out, breathing all out of sync, heartbeat far too rapid. A light spank is tapped against your ass, then softly stroked. He soothes. Aloe on sunburn. Milk with hot sauce. Pretty kisses in the comedown of a rough fuck. 
You won’t get those. Wasn’t a particularly rough fuck, either - and yet it hurts so much when he gets up to leave.
It’s awkward. He doesn’t really say bye. Doesn’t acknowledge the fact he stoked a fire inside you that burned you from the inside out. Ignores the ashes that are scattered around your vessel, as if your soul has been ejected from its home. 
He’s warm, when you look at him. That little part of your heart has been stolen once more. He’s just feeding it back to you.
“Sorry,” he says, a hand on your doorknob. “I shouldn’t- I mean, we shouldn’t-”
“It’s fine,” you offer.
That’s the thing about Jungkook. He’ll give you the world, then realise it was never his to give. Always has to ask for it back. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s fucked you, then acted as if was foolish - only to repeat the same mistakes the next evening.
It’s what he’s always done, and is what he’ll always do.
You’ll never learn. 
The shirt you chuck on to head downstairs the next morning is his. 
Far too big for you, it finishes around your thighs. Television blaring in the room beneath you, it’s obvious your housemates are awake, and even as you’re trudging down the stairs, you’re not quite sure you’re alive.
The headache of an overbearing hangover is threatening your life. You’re certain of it. The fact your housemates have the television set to what must be the maximum volume? Only further sending you to an early grave. 
And yet when you see Jungkook sitting by the breakfast bar, hair in all different directions, a bowl of cereal in front of him, and smiling in the direction of whomever else is in the room, you find yourself smiling, too. 
“Morning,” you say pleasantly as you walk into the kitchen, ready to flop your forehead down on Jungkook’s shoulder like you so often do.
Ready, until you notice the look in his eyes when he turns to face you.
Ready, until you glance in the direction of his previous smile.
Ready, until you see the girl who looks a lot like his ex-girlfriend and absolutely nothing like you leaning on the other side of the counter. Mug from your trip to Amsterdam together in her hands, and the shirt you got him for his birthday covering her body, she smiles.
You’re drowning.
“Oh,” you say, not looking at him. Only her. “I didn’t realise we had company.”
“Is she still here?”
“No.”
She’s awkward as she nods. “Sorry, hey. I crashed here last night - hope you don’t mind? It’s just you know what it’s like getting an uber at that time-”
“Yeah, yeah,” you nod. Smile. Jungkook thinks you look pretty - but of course he does. You look defeated. “Totally.”
“Did you fuck her?
“No, Diz. I didn't fuck her.”
“Jungkook said you were feeling unwell last night?” She tries to make conversation. She needn’t. You feel far more unwell now than you ever did last night - and that’s before you notice the pretty purple bruise forming on her neck. “How are you feeling now?”
Her care is kind. Considerate. Wholly wasted on you because you’re gonna lie, and say that you’re fine, even though it feels as if your lungs have been filled with venom spat by a lover who is incapable of loving.
Still, you don’t look at Jungkook. Just make your excuses. Leave.
And even though he knows that he should, Jungkook doesn’t chase after you. 
He lets you go, because he knows you’ll always come back. You always do.
But if you don't?
Well, he’ll go back to you, and you’ll let him. Again, you always do.
From the kitchen, Jungkook can hear your showering starting up. Appetite lost, he isn’t listening to the girl in front of him. Isn’t even really sure of her name.
All that he’s sure of is that the fall out of this is not gonna be pretty.
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(part 3 of November Paramedic; part 2 is here.)
When Gareth mentioned a plan to locate Eddie’s paramedic in shining armor, Eddie assumed it'd be him getting into various accidents all over Indianapolis. It's something the little shit would've found funny, okay! But, Gareth's plan is much less hazardous and slightly more logical: lurk around the university until they spot him. Like a pair of drug dealers trying to tempt the goody-two-shoes protagonist into addiction and sin on an 80s Saturday morning cartoon.
It's not the simplest task since they don't know when Steve might be there. Also, other responsibilities mean they can only spare so many hours loitering. So, thirteen days post-hatching plan and nineteen days post-meeting Steve (not that Eddie's been counting or anything), with nothing to show for their ethically questionable behavior, Eddie is ready to give up. Especially since both of them have a rare simultaneous day off. Usually, those are spent jamming, smoking, playing D&D… literally anything other than this.
"This is fucking stupid," he says, cigarette clenched between his teeth. "We're not gonna run into him."
"Sure we are," Gareth says. He drops his butt among the dozens they've chain-smoked and lights another without meeting Eddie's gaze. "We're getting closer. I can feel it."
"The only thing you're feeling is delusional. It's time to give up."
"Eddie, c'mon-"
"Nope." One last drag and Eddie stomps out his cig. "Fuck this; I'm out."
He stalks toward his van at the far end of the parking lot. Gareth curses before running after him.
"Dude!" he exclaims, jogging to keep up with Eddie's longer strides. "You can't just give up! What about what you said-"
"I was being stupid. What was I even imagining? We orchestrate another meeting and, what, I use my freakish wiles and seduce him? And then we'll live happily ever after…" Eddie shakes his head. "It doesn't work like that. He'd probably turn out to be a douche anyhow."
"No, listen!" Gareth seizes Eddie's arm and yanks him to a stop in the middle of the lot. "You always do this. Self-sabotage and cut things short, even when there's potential."
Eddie scoffs. "You know what else always happens? I end up liking them more than they like me. It's not fun."
"You don't know it'll be like that this time. You have to try."
"No."
Eddie takes a step back. He's done; he's out. Gareth reaches for his wrist to pull him back in. He jerks away, almost losing his footing and stumbling into the burgundy car behind him. Gareth's arms shoot out to help, but Eddie steadies himself before crashing. For a second, silence reigns as they assure everyone's on solid ground. Then Eddie opens his mouth to once and for all-
"Eddie? Gareth?"
Their heads snap to the side, eyes landing on… Max? Looking unusually dressy in high-waisted shorts and a fitted top under an oversized jacket, and her hair in a high ponytail. She's got her skateboard under her arm, a messenger bag with a textbook sticking out, and a confused furrow between her eyebrows.
"What are you doing here?" she asks.
Fuck. They can't tell her the truth – she'll never let him live it down. Fortunately, Gareth realizes this too, because he says:
"Uh, I go to school here? What are you doing here? The math building is way over there."
She rolls her eyes and leans on the burgundy car. It's a shiny BMW M5 – the limited anniversary edition. Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie almost dented that thing! It's worth more than his life. And Max is slouching against it like it's nothing. He could warn her not to scratch it, but she's unlikely to care; she's always been metal that way.
"Waiting for my friends," she says. "We have dinner on Tuesdays."
Eddie's ears ignite. Dinner? With friends? While wearing what's basically a date outfit?
"Ooohhh…" he says, sharing a grin with Gareth. "And do these friends include someone special?"
She shrugs, looking anywhere but at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"C'mon, Red! You're killing me! I need to know if he's good enough for you."
His fingers hover over her ponytail, as if to tug at it. She slaps his hand away.
"You're annoying."
He laughs. This terrible day just became infinitely better. He won't rest until he gets what he wants – or until she punches him, which'll probably come first. He's about to tell her so when a voice calls her name. Both turn to look, and…
It's a boy Max's age. He's beaming and waving, quickening his steps toward her. She smiles too, almost shyly, as she waves back. It's the perfect opportunity for teasing, if Eddie's day hadn't just become infinitely better.
His tongue is heavy, his skin is itching, his heart is bruising his ribs from the inside. Sweat is gathering in his pits and it's getting a little hard to breathe. Because walking half a pace behind the boy, carrying a huge duffel with such ease it might actually be stuffed with feathers, is… is…
"Yesssss!" Gareth hisses next to him. He may also be fist-pumping. Eddie isn't looking.
"Hey!" The boy stops in front of Max. "Sorry, practice ran late."
"It's okay," she says, cooler than ice, though her eyes are glittering. "I just got here."
She says something else, or maybe the boy does? It's all background noise, because Steve has caught up. Steve, in jeans and a polo that must've been tailored to his exact measurements because oooooooooohhhh boy. Steve, unshouldering the bag, muscles shifting and straining under his shirt with the movement. Steve, smiling, his golden eyes flying over Eddie.
"Hey! Eddie and Gareth, right?"
Eddie draws a sharp breath. He remembers!
"Y-Yeah!" he squeaks, hands fluttering to either wave or shake hands, ultimately doing neither. "Hi! You're here!"
"I am," Steve says, casual, as if inane conversations with former patients happen on the regular.
(It better not – Eddie doesn't do well in competitive settings.)
Max, keen eyes darting between them, asks, "You know each other?"
"Met at work," Steve says. "Or, I was working and he…"
"Ah." Max taps her temple. "That."
"How do you know them?" the boy asks her.
She points at Eddie. "Neighbor. And that's the guy who dumpster dives outside our apartment building."
Gareth flips her off. Eddie would laugh, but he's busy pretending he doesn't know what Steve looks like shirtless. It's hard (pun slowly growing more relevant) – his gaze keeps dropping to the polo's undone top button. Steve is just as gorgeous out of uniform, and now Eddie's thighs are tingling with want. He could stare at him forever…
Unfortunately, 'forever' is cut short by a woman arriving in a flurry. Wait, no. 'Flurry' implies some sort of graceful whimsy, while this person… she's a hurricane crashing into a house.
"Sorry I'm late! Nielsen wouldn't stop talking and got angry when people started leaving because it's an important lecture so this girl called him out for not keeping time because he goes on all these tangents and he said they're interesting tidbits and she said it's disrespecting our time and-" She pauses for breath. "You don't care, do you?"
Max, Steve, and the boy shake their heads.
"Right. Sorry." The woman turns to Eddie and Gareth. "Hi! I'm Robin. And you are?"
"My neighbor and his friend. Steve treated his concussion," Max rattles off, glaring at them. "You didn't answer my question: why are you here?"
Gareth frowns. "I told you," he says, pointing at the building. "School." He points at himself. "Student."
Max glares harder. "You don't have class on Tuesdays. And Eddie doesn't go here at all."
"I had stuff I needed to drop off."
"Is tagging along a crime? Jesus."
Max doesn't reply, though her glare remains.
Robin hums. "Okay, so this is super-enjoyable, I love just standing around, but I'm starving, so…" She looks at Steve, who nods.
"Yeah, we're going," he says, but neither moves. He glances at Eddie, which makes her glance at Eddie, and then they make a series of eyebrow-movements at each other, ending in a shared smile. Steve asks, "Have you guys eaten yet?"
Eddie shakes his head, pulse racing. Is this going where he thinks it is?
"D'you wanna come with? There's this diner we like…"
Holyshityesitis!
"Yeah!" Fuck, too eager. "I mean, uh, sure, sounds good."
"Cool." Grinning, Steve clicks a remote car key; the burgundy BMW beeps. What the fuck? How high is a paramedic's salary?! "Did you drive here?"
"I, uh…" Eddie falters. Shit, wasn't he supposed to? It's been three weeks and he feels fine – he thought he was in the green!
"Nope! I did!" Gareth says, 'proving' it by hauling his house keys from his pocket and jingling them.
Steve nods. "Should be safe for you to drive again, but the less strain you put on your brain, the better. Even a mild concussion isn't anything to sneeze at."
"Y-Yeah, I've been taking it easy. Basically done nothing. Until now."
Max snorts. Eddie is going to pour coffee through her mail slot.
They decide Eddie and Gareth will follow Steve's car to the diner, since Steve can't fit all of them (the real reason he asked if they drove here, duh). It's good because Eddie gets the chance to panic/gush/collect himself in the privacy of his van. It's bad because Gareth drives, lest their fib be revealed. Gareth spends the ten-minute journey gloating about driving Eddie's beloved girl, interspersed with 'I told you so!'s.
The diner is cozy, all wooden furniture and sepia photographs on the walls. A graying waitress who smells like tobacco directs them to a booth and takes their orders. An awkward silence then falls as they wait for someone to speak.
The boy clears his throat. "My name is Lucas, by the way. I don't think I said." After shaking his hand and introducing themselves, Lucas says to Eddie, "I think Max has mentioned you."
"Oh yeah? I've been dying for her to mention y- Ow!"
Eddie rubs where Max kicked his shin. Her glare is murderous. Lucas is blushing happily, though.
"So, what d'you guys do?" Robin asks.
Right. Time to small-talk like adults. Eddie gets his job as a mechanic out of the way, then gives the word to Gareth, who tells them he's a creative writing major. Robin turns out to be getting a masters in linguistics and Lucas studies biology.
"I don't actually know what I want to do, but biology feels broad enough to give me options, y'know? I can go to med school, or forensics, or, I don't know, paleontology?" he says. Max glows brighter with every word that comes out of his mouth. Cute.
This then segues into talking about their friends, who by the sound of it lead incredibly interesting lives.
"Dustin's at MIT, Mike's at Oxford, Will's in San Francisco…" Lucas says, counting on his fingers.
Max interjects, "El's in Africa building houses and teaching kids English."
"Erica is still at home, finishing high school and drowning in early acceptance letters to, like, every Ivy League there is," Steve says with a look of pure pride.
"Nancy and Jonathan – they're our age – are chasing scoops in Afghanistan… " Robin says.
"... and Argyle is also in California," Lucas finishes.
Eddie whistles. "And here we are, still in Indianapolis."
"Dude, I'm surprised I got this far," Steve says. "Wouldn't've managed without her."
He jerks a thumb in Robin's direction, who preens at the acknowledgment. Robin's cool, Eddie decides. Garrulous but fun and nice… and verrrrrrrrry close to Steve. The kind of close where they're always in each other's space. Where they wordlessly transfer food between their plates. Where Steve unceremoniously wipes a speck of ketchup off Robin's chin after she repeatedly fails to get it. They're comfortable, but not necessarily romantically affectionate. Like they're siblings rather than lovers.
(Dear God, if you are in heaven, let them be siblings.)
Conversation flows. They joke around, tell stories, swap opinions. Robin gets passionate about tonal shifts when stage shows are adapted to film, and Eddie tries not to stare at Steve's mouth as he eats. And then, once their plates are cleaned and they're waiting for dessert, Gareth leans his elbows on the table and fixes Steve with a purposeful look.
"I figured out where I've seen you before."
Eddie stiffens.
Steve blinks. "At campus, right?"
"Thought so, but no. I realized it's actually…" Gareth chuckles. "It's ridiculous, but uh, my mom had this calendar…"
Steve recoils, red flooding his face. Robin, Lucas, and Max shriek in delight, Robin grabbing Steve's arm and shaking it as he hides behind his hands.
"And my mom," Gareth says between bursts of laughter, "she's shameless, all right? She kept it in our kitchen. So during, what was it, November?"
"November," Steve confirms, muffled.
"For 30 days, if I wanted to check the date or make a notation… I saw you."
Tears stream down Robin's face, she's laughing so hard. She and Max have started chanting 'Slut! Slut! Slut!' at the still crimson Steve.
"You don't understand," Lucas says, gesturing for emphasis. "We've been waiting for someone to come up and say 'hey, weren't you…?' for years. Thank you so much!"
"Hey, thank my mom," Gareth says. Eddie's quite stunned he'd throw his own mother under the bus like that. She's a really nice person, too!
"Makes sense," Max says. "Moms love Steve."
"All parents do," Lucas says.
Cackling, Robin pinches Steve's cheek. "Gotta hide your mom and your dad around Steve!"
Steve bats her off, flushed but smiling. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You got your wish, now shut it."
That only makes the three restart the chant to ridicule him for his harlotry. Steve's indignant squawk that 'it was for charity!' merely has everyone laugh more.
And Eddie? Well. As he sits beholding this man who works as a paramedic and drives a luxury car, who models for charity and allows his friends to mock him for it, who blushes and giggles when they lovingly call him a whore…
All Eddie can think is that he's in fucking trouble.
Afterward, it only makes sense for Eddie to drive Max home. Steve shakes his hand outside the diner, saying it was nice to see him again. Eddie, not knowing how to ask for Steve's contact info without seeming weird, agrees. He waits until the BMW drives off, then tells Gareth to get the fuck out of his seat. Gareth relocates to the backseat, whining since Max already called shotgun.
The initial minutes, they're quiet. Then Max turns to Gareth and says:
"When were you telling me Eddie is your mom?"
"Huh?"
"You said you knew about the calendar because of your mom. But that's not true."
The warmth drains from Eddie's face; his knuckles crack around the steering wheel. Gareth's expression is the epitome of 'oh shit' when he meets Eddie's gaze in the rear-view mirror.
"Yes, it is," Gareth says.
"It's not," Max says.
"It is!"
"It's not! The calendar was for 2021, and in November '21 you were a freshman and had already moved into the dorms! If your mom kept it in her kitchen, you wouldn't have seen it!"
She scowls at Gareth, mouth pinched and eyes flashing, daring him to contradict her.
Gareth swallows thickly. "It… wasn't for 2021."
"Yes, it was."
"How do you know?"
She puts her hands in her lap and lifts her chin, almost primly. Eddie gasps as the penny drops.
Gareth screams, "WHAT!"
"You have it?" Eddie cries. "Why do you have it?"
She scoffs. "You know why – you've seen his pecs."
"I don't- Okay, how're you so sure it's me?"
"Because you spent all of dinner looking like you wanted to crawl inside his mouth and live there." Her nose wrinkles. "At least I hope it was his mouth you want to crawl into-"
She's cut off by Gareth shouting "I can't hear you! Lalalalalalala-"
Eddie crumples in his seat. He's depleted of blood, air, life, everything. Behind, Gareth is grilling Max for information: are Steve and Robin together? Is Steve single? Is he queer?
Max replies: no, yes, and 'that's not for me to tell, moron'.
Gareth nods, satisfied. "That means he is. If he was straight, you'd say so." He slaps Eddie's arm. "You got a shot, man!"
"You… don't know that…" Eddie wheezes.
Max tuts, shaking her head. "You actually want to hit on my chauffeur."
"He prefers the term 'seduce'," Gareth says.
Eddie smacks his face into the steering wheel at the next red light.
------------------------------
Tag list: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lordofthepointygerbils, @lenore1232, @imzadidragonfly, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @bea-sayan, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @steveisabicon, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround, @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid, @deehellcat, @misticageri, @lovelyscot, @olivethenerd16, @linkydinky06, @rynnytintin, @anything-thats-rock-and-roll,
I won't be adding more to the tag list because there are already so many of you. Instead, I'll be tagging the four remaining parts (it'll definitely be seven in total, btw) as #steddie fic: november paramedic. Hopefully, they'll show up in the tags and you'll see them that way.
Thank you for reading 🖤
Part 4
3K notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 5 months
Text
The Sneaky Samurai
Pairing: Mizu x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, a bit suggestive, slight angst at the end, morning cuddles, naked cuddles, flirting, secret relationship, marks, bodyguard!Mizu
Word count: 0.7k
Ao3
A/N: If you want some context you can read this post about bodyguard!Mizu. Or you can read it on it own too.
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Mizu becoming your bodyguard was the best and most exciting thing that happened in your life so far. It wasn't a high bar given that you were pretty sheltered life since you were born. You were allowed outside but only while guarded by Mizu. Which worked out for the best, you could make a date out of every outing.
It was the only time where you could freely laugh and be clingy with her, the only time where the romance you shared didn't have to be as hidden because well, she had to be close to you, she had to hold you, she had to guide you by the hand sometimes. As opposed to all the kisses you had to sneak in and the many times she's had to cover your mouth with her hand while the other was between your legs.
Last night was one of those nights and today is another morning where she has to sneak away into her own bedroom.
"Why not stay for a little bit longer?" You tried to hold onto her as she attempted to untangle herself from you. "You can stay until breakfast is ready."
"Princess, you know I have to report before then." Mizu cradled the back of your head before she kissed your forehead gently. You could see in her eyes that she regretted it just as much as you but she had more as stake then you. Her very life for starters. So as hard as this choice was she had to get out of bed.
With a defeated groan you let her go, "I wish we could cuddle more often."
"We could if you didn't pass out right after sex." She winked at you with her pretty blue eyes and you suddenly, or maybe not because she had her muscular back turned to you and you could see the scratches there, you wanted her back in your bed to make a point that you could stay awake after sex.
Instead of making that decision you chose to watch her get dressed, a sight you've seen many times before. Your eyes didn't focus on her chest bindings but rather the way she tied her hair up seeming to pause a little each time as she looked at herself in the mirror.
"You look pretty with your hair down." It was such small, simple words but they made her pause and look your way, her eyes wide in surprise.
Pretty. You imagined it wasn't something she heard often. Handsome maybe but few men were called pretty and with the way she lived you knew there weren't many opportunities for her to present as anything else.
"Thank you Princess. You're pretty as well." You heard that since you could remember, everyone told you this weather they meant it or not. Mizu was the only one it truly mattered from.
"I'm not even wearing any make up." That often made you feel more naked then actually being naked in front of her.
"I don't care. You're always pretty to me, my Princess." Such a charmer this samurai.
"Bet you tell that to every woman." Mizu didn't say anything. The silence went on, "Mizu!"
Her laughter made your stomach flip, it was so rare to hear her real one, "I don't make it a habit to bed the women I'm payed to protect."
"So I'm special am I?" You scooted closer to her, deliberately licking your lips as you help her tie her pants back up. Last night you were doing the opposite and did you ever want to do it again.
"You're very special to me." She could have just left it at calling you special but she choose to say you were special to especially her. "But you have to let me go." Those words struck a painful cord inside your heart. Breakfast. That was the reason, but you knew that some day she'd have to leave for good. She won't be your bodyguard forever, and you couldn't marry her either.
"I... I'll see you at breakfast then." You felt her press one more kiss against your forehead before she snuck out the window.
You took a few more minutes to collect your thoughts. One day you'd have to let her go. But not today, not tomorrow, not until you find a husband. Which will be a long time at the rate Mizu's scaring them off.
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olderthannetfic · 28 days
Note
https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/746553097204203521/the-fandom-hates-women-response-to-lack-of-ff
The "fandom hates women" part of it comes from the fact that fandom as an entity just doesn't watch the kind of media that draws femslash, even if it ticks all of the boxes of things those very same people say they like. There are so many times I've watched a show that I've seen mega-popular Tumblr posts wishing existed, and then the fandom is so, so small comparatively and often in general. There have been superheroes, vampire/supernatural shows, fantasy shows, movies, books, the list goes on, that feel like they were generated out of Tumblr's desires for ideal fandom media, and everyone knows they're never going to attract anywhere near the same attention for fandom and fanworks because the common denominator just tends to be that if there isn't a full ensemble of attractive men to ship either with each other or with the women, fandom's not interested.
So it's not about prioritizing women in that sense, it's about people witnessing hypocrisy over and over again the second a show doesn't have a mostly-male ensemble. The people who are in these fandoms are frustrated that good faith attempts to get people interested are met with every excuse in the book that all eventually boils down to "I don't like watching stuff with women in it as much as I like watching stuff with men in it." And if that's how people feel about it... sometimes the conclusions are going to turn into the more uncharitable take of "fandom hates women."
--
Maybe, but whenever I see a "fandom hates women" reblog of my stuff, one or two reblogs further down the chain I get an overt TERF. I just had to go block several people today, in fact.
The first person to reblog with a comment like that is usually subtle, but their friends and friends of friends are not. The rhetoric that very quickly starts is the fandom equivalent of that "All the butches are becoming trans men! We're losing lesbians!" stuff.
Here's the thing: I've been in ten billion fandoms that were so awesome and fit fandom's supposed tastes to a T and yet no amount of promoting them could get anyone to try the canon. This goes for canons that are all men or all white men or all majority ethnicity men or whatever else.
The default state of media is to not engender a big fic fandom.
I agree that the rare outliers mostly follow certain patterns, but we extrapolate too far when we say that a lack of those patterns is why a fandom is small.
A fandom is small because that's the near-universal default.
--
Yes, a small slice of fandom consists of guilt-ridden queer fujoshi who say they want more f/f but don't make much of a move to make that happen. I tend to run into that a lot because of my own tastes and having friends who share those tastes.
Far more of fandom is people talking generally about how representation matters without saying they would personally join these fandoms if they existed.
Neither group is large enough to be the real reason some woman-heavy canon fails to take off to HP levels.
The real reason is not hypocrisy but the fact that most things don't take off like that. Most things without massive, massive audiences especially don't take off like that. And the very few things that do are flukes and don't actually predict that another similar thing will take off in the future.
--
Go to AO3's tag search. Search for all canonical fandom tags. Sort by uses and descending order.
Right now, I get 64,390 tags.
The first page, 50 tags, goes from HP with 497,845 works to the Thor movies with 59,266 works. By page 6, we're below 10 thousand works.
By the end of page 10, we're down to Labyrinth with 3,906.
Somewhere in the top 500 AO3 fandom tags (many of which are just franchise metatags for each other), we go all the way from megafandoms to medium size and down to relatively modest ones.
That's not a lot of room for a big f/f-heavy fandom given the trends in mainstream media and that mainstream media is where most really big fandoms come from.
--
I also notice that you're conflating a lack of desire to watch something that's primarily about women with a lack of desire to watch something that includes women.
There are tons of fans who want something more like The Mummy with a leading man and leading woman they love.
Granted, that's not me and that's not a lot of my fujoshi/slasher audience, but it's extraordinarily common. I know plenty of people who don't like canons that are only dudes, but since they also don't like canons that are only ladies and they don't ship f/f, this gets spun into "fandom hates women".
--
Let me be clear:
Conflating "lesbians" and "women" is a radfem position.
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 9 months
Text
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Wow! As the header says, my blog just went past 5k followers - I'd like to extend a heartfelt thank you to everyone who hopped on for this journey; I'm having the time of my life sharing my writing with you all.
In celebration and as a way to have a little fun - I'll be opening my inbox for a day and letting those who want to send in something fill it up!
Now, I know you're probably asking yourself 'Hal, I thought you said requests are going to be closed so you can finish the ones you have and work on the AUs?' And you'd be correct - I did say that. I'm not going to be writing full-length works for this event.
To anyone who sends something in (and follows the rules I have in place on my Request Form (be sure to check it even if you've already read it, I added some more characters and other stuff)) I'll be writing one-to-two page drabbles!
All this being said, after this post is uploaded I'll be opening my inbox up to anyone who would want to participate and closing it exactly one day after!
Thank you again for being the best community ever - I'm incredibly lucky to be surrounded by kind and respectful individuals as well as mutuals who are mind-numbingly sweet. I could not have achieved all of this without you; I think that's beautiful.
This post will also serve as the Masterlist for all of the expected drabbles, so if you'd like to keep updated on what's going to be happening/being written soon, this would be a good place to hang out!
ALL COMPLETED AS OF 11/5/2023
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IMAGES USED: A black retriever in an extensive mountainous landscape by Maud Earl & L'angelo, la morte e il diavolo by Roberto Ferri || TOTAL: 5
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➣The Perfect One
╰┈➤ ❝ [He stares at the rings under the glass with an acute narrowness to his eyes. He inspects every one as if a bomb might go off at any second, not missing a single detail in the metal.] ❞
➣Get In
╰┈➤ ❝ [Coming home with bruises and stitched wounds, you drag him into the bathroom to wash away the memories.] ❞
➣Hum Me A Tune, Blue-Eyes
╰┈➤ ❝ [You listen to his heartbeat as he keeps you to his chest, his breath tickling your hair.] ❞
➣Here Now
╰┈➤ ❝ [He nearly misses one of the most important moments of your lives together.] ❞
➣Burst Veins
╰┈➤ ❝ [He never noticed you weren't behind him.] ❞
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IMAGES USED:  Fallen Angel by Roberto Ferri & Nature of Fear by Nicola Samori || TOTAL: 5
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➣Nervous Eyes
╰┈➤ ❝ [No one understands how you two get along - not when you're so different. It makes you second-guess yourself. He notices.] ❞
➣Blood Like Obsidian
╰┈➤ ❝ [Simon can only fight against so many nurses as they shove him back from your operation room.] ❞
➣Supposed To Happen
╰┈➤ ❝ [You died and left him a child he had no idea existed. How can he even begin to try and understand?] ❞
➣Digging Gaze
╰┈➤ ❝ [You indulge in a one-night-stand after you'd both called it quits, only, it leads to more problems. When he sees you again, how will he react to the swelling of your stomach?] ❞
➣Sole Survivor
╰┈➤ ❝ [Your father died years ago, and so you fall under the stiff, and unyielding, protection of your Uncle Simon. But it's not all bad. He can be funny when he wants to be.] ❞
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IMAGES USED: White and Black by Vadim Gorbatov & Saint Augustine by Philippe de Champaigne || TOTAL: 7
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➣Didn't Mean It
╰┈➤ ❝ [Arguments are rare, certainly ones that leave you in tears.] ❞
➣Him, Her, and the Dog
╰┈➤ ❝ [The woes of pining after a woman whose deadly K9 looks like it hates his guts.] ❞
➣Drunken Sappiness
╰┈➤ ❝ [You can't say you've ever had a boyfriend as perfect as Kyle.] ❞
➣How Do You Listen To That?
╰┈➤ ❝ [It was three a.m. when you all got the call to load up, but what's the best way to wake both yourself and the Sergeant up?] ❞
➣Finally Broken
╰┈➤ ❝ [Childhood friends turned lovers. The realization was far more violent and instantaneous than you'd like to admit.] ❞
➣Don't Look At Her
╰┈➤ ❝ [The bomb starts ticking down, rapidly firing to zero. Gaz won't let Price near you. Not after he'd remembered the Captain's actions when they'd first met.] ❞
➣In His Head
╰┈➤ ❝ [Collection of his SFW and NSFW quirks.] ❞
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IMAGES USED: Scene from the Great Flood by Joseph-Désiré Court & Saint Jerome in Prayer by Carlo Dolci || TOTAL: 7
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➣Life Snaps By In Flashes
╰┈➤ ❝ [A collection of memories from the second he laid eyes on you. All flashing past in the soft buzzing of the overhead lights.] ❞
➣Heart-Eyes
╰┈➤ ❝ [Being a medic wasn't pretty, but when your boyfriend was the subject under your needle you can't help but enjoy his unwavering gaze. Today, he has something to share with you.] ❞
➣From Ten To Twenty & Beyond
╰┈➤ ❝ [You've known him ever since the incident on the playground, and now you can't help but imagine that same boy as you watch him make supper with flour in his hair.] ❞
➣Find Me
╰┈➤ ❝ [You're finally back in One-Four-One's hands, but that doesn't mean you're saved. Johnny tracks you down after a violent episode.] ❞
➣Still The Same Fools
╰┈➤ ❝ [There was always a rivalry between you two - that hasn't changed even if both of you have. Years later, the boiling point is finally met.] ❞
➣Is This Why?
╰┈➤ ❝ [He finally sees why you never introduced him to your parents.] ❞
➣Oblivious Pining
╰┈➤ ❝ [Johnny hangs off you like a silent beast. Not that you would notice, of course.] ❞
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IMAGES USED: King Gustav III of Sweden and His Brothers by Alexander Roslin & Geography lesson by Eduard Karl Gustav Lebrecht Pistorius || TOTAL: 6
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KEEGAN P. RUSS:
➣Paint The Dawn; Paint My Eyes
╰┈➤ ❝ [In the midst of war and death, there's little time for pleasure. All you had was a ripped-up sketchbook to call your own, its contents littered with the rough face of your comrade.] ❞
➣Hold Her Close
╰┈➤ ❝ [Keegan cares for his young daughter.] ❞
➣When The Fighting Stops & The Silence Sets In
╰┈➤ ❝ [Continuation of (Don't) Go To War: the aftermath of recovery and a budding relationship.] ❞
➣Movies and Stale Popcorn
╰┈➤ ❝ [Oak and Keegan finally get to watch that movie.] ❞
DAVID 'HESH' WALKER:
➣To The Boy of My Childhood
╰┈➤ ❝ [Ten years came and went fast, but the memory of the Walker boys stayed. One more than the other. You never got to tell him you loved him.] ❞
➣Keep The Sheets Warm, My Love Is Coming Home
╰┈➤ ❝ [If this wasn't enough to prove that you were the only person for Hesh, you didn't know what did.] ❞
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IMAGES USED: Saint Catherine of Alexandria by Caravaggio & Amor Vincit Omnia by Caravaggio || TOTAL: 17
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CAPTAIN JOHN 'SOAP' MACTAVISH:
➣New Paint
╰┈➤ ❝ [Fighting to forget you, MacTavish finds comfort in whoever he can. Yet, like the layers of paint on the walls, it always peels back to you.] ❞
➣A Song of Gnashing Teeth
╰┈➤ ❝ [There was never a day where the two of you weren't butting heads - everyone was at their wit's end. Of course, you would both be forced to cooperate at some point.] ❞
➣Listen To My Voice
╰┈➤ ❝ [He orders you to focus on him as the sounds outside the cell get closer. He promises nothing will happen to you. You know he's lying.] ❞
➣Look At The Stars; Look At Me
╰┈➤ ❝ [Stargazing in the middle of an overgrown and wild glade.] ❞
➣Alive and Breathing
╰┈➤ ❝ [You're sick. Very sick. John takes drastic action.] ❞
➣I Can See It In Your Eyes
╰┈➤ ❝ [It's finally time to meet the family.] ❞
➣A Green-Eyed Monster
╰┈➤ ❝ [You'd slept together, sure. No strings attached. Then why are you trying to make him jealous? Who cares, the point is that it's working.] ❞
SERGEANT GARY 'ROACH' SANDERSON:
➣Dance With Me Before The Chill Sets In
╰┈➤ ❝ [Tired? Yes, but he's never too tired for you and your loveliness. But maybe you need to remember to lock the door when you're home alone.] ❞
➣Raining Cats and Dogs
╰┈➤ ❝ [Roach has a deep love of storms.] ❞
OPERATION OFFICER ALEX KELLER:
➣Bright-Eyed History Lesson
╰┈➤ ❝ [A librarian with a fascination for war history and a soldier who loves how her eyes light up. Like a dog, he can't stop himself from coming back; smiling like a fool.] ❞
COLONEL ALEJANDRO VARGAS:
➣Hold Me Longer
╰┈➤ ❝ [Mornings spent in the sanctity of warm sunlight and bare skin.] ❞
SERGEANT MAJOR RODOLFO 'RUDY' PARRA:
➣A Love Like Ours Makes Us Strong
╰┈➤ ❝ [Rodolfo came back, alive but bruised. How do you explain how terrified you were?] ❞
COMMANDER PHILLIP GRAVES:
➣Sleeping On The Porch
╰┈➤ ❝ [As it turns out, your husband never really died. It's safe to say you're not overjoyed.] ❞
➣Love Echoes In Silence
╰┈➤ ❝ [You can feel him watching you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a small smile. Humming to yourself, you listen to the birds outside the window.] ❞
SEBASTIAN JOSEF KRUEGER:
➣Ain't Giving Up My Pride
╰┈➤ ❝ [You get on his nerves, partially because you want to. But what happens when he finally snaps?] ❞
ALL 141 INCLUDED (SEPARATE):
➣Count The Hours
╰┈➤ ❝ [Collection of what the One-Four-One do on their down-hours with their Lovers] ❞
➣Wide-Eyed Panic
╰┈➤ ❝ [Why were you behind the couch?] ❞
952 notes · View notes
kalims · 9 months
Text
ㅤamongst other things
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premise. kisses w/ them, and random things?
featuring. dan heng, blade, jing yuan.
content. gender neutral.
cw. mentions of blood, murder for blade lol. he's just down bad for reader in a weird, blade way ig
note. this is ironic since my first genshin post was also about kisses (AKA me getting bored so I wondered why not get into star rail)
will add others soon ig.. I didn't compile all of them here cuz I honestly lack the characterization for them so woop
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dan heng
short, abrupt kisses that rarely ever come by goes as quickly as it came. you'd assume that he's doing it on purpose, giving you the kiss that you've been waiting for all day. it shouldn't even be considered a kiss at all from how fleeting his apparent 'peck' is.
in short it's torture.
keyword: assume. cause as convinced as you are that this is just some form of twisted amusement dan heng gains, that's exactly the problem that it entails. as a person wholly, he's so serious to the point you doubt there's nothing that would entertain him besides books.
you learn he isn't much of a fan of those really long kisses, once you both bore witness to a couple eating each other's face in broad daylight and you spotted his weekly shift of expression, a quirk of few centimeters. in this case, a grimace and he looks away.
he, does not really give kisses a lot. as upset as you are, you do agree that when he does give you a kiss, albeit short. it makes it all the more.. amazing? such a mediocre word wouldn't be able to describe it.
basically when you're both left trying to fit in his small cushion (he could've atleast gotten a bed in all this space.) you also learn that he's a really private man.
you've only ever shared kisses in his room, embraces, everything else for that matter. when the door is locked he quite literally melts into you. if you happen to be sitting together he just leans on to you.
dan heng in public: 😶
dan heng in private: 😊
just doesn't show any affection in public, especially if march is around. that girl would make fun of him for hours end and even drag the trailblazer in on her antics of poking fun.
dan heng is indeed a private man.
march isn't the only factor as to why there hasn't been a lot of kisses out in public. if anything he probably wants to kiss you more than you would like.
he'd be lying if he said he wanted to just kiss you as long as those weird main characters of the romance shows march watches cause even though you might want that as well, dan heng won't ever do it.
cause it isn't him, what he is. is the type to get kisses done as soon as he can not because he doesn't enjoy them. it's because he can take a good look at you once he leans back, just like he does any other day.
to admire you.
and cause dan heng isn't the romantic type to kiss you senseless, but the one to give you looks you'd die for.
blade
if dan heng only gives you kisses a few times a day and you'd consider it torture, better get ready to lose your sanity cause you're lucky if blade even crumples at your hand to give you one.
it's not that he doesn't love you. he feels as though it's wrong to label whatever emotion in his chest as something as strong as love, he won't go that far. but he won't label you as something worthy of hatred either, you're.. tolerable?
if anything blade doesn't outright seek to give you his affection through the form of a kiss. his love language is in fact, not physical affection but destroying your enemies :). (if you have one, if not. then whoever bothers you will suffice.)
but if he does, when he does it's the most blade thing he can do. just grabbing your face with one hand as he gives you one of those rough, deep kisses. it's not really desperate or out of need, despite such a wordless action you could feel some emotion he's pouring into it.
better pray it's not hate cause.. 💀
funny thing cause as much as he hates being piled in the same sentence as dan heng, in a way they're rather similar. both just preferring to witness, given their life span.. maybe it's some type of response they're used to.
blade doesn't really do the 'oh I love you' or the random hugs. the fact that he'd even stand so close to you instead of isolating himself and looking all mysterious leaning on a pillar already spoke volumes of his fondness (if not admitted.)
he just.. watches you?
silver wolf comments about it when she's caught his eyes on you many times midst a conversation, behind your back, staring. "better watch out." she says, but even with her disturbed gaze never does he tear his eyes away.
well.
kafka does take it in more stride than her. as someone who's spent a hefty time with blade, even someone as analytical as her can't tell which things he likes, and hates. besides all the blood and pain (well usually for his opponents.)
she for one, tells you that he does indeed like you. cause she can control who blade murders 'for her own good'. but if there's even a single glimpse of drop from a wound he's going feral, and not even kafka or her spirit whisper can tame his rage.
AKA... just lots of murder?
'for your own good :)'.
blade wholly believes that he doesn't need to shower you in affection, or kisses at all. but if you're really so insistent on them he'll give into you, which is surprising cause he's a pretty stubborn man.
most affection you'd get in physical means is when he completely collapses into you, perhaps a sign of weakness. but also trust. one of the rare times he's exhausted himself in his mind to the point where he can't even do anything.
#icanfixhim.
jing yuan
a cheeky man, this one.
jing yuan could give you a load, barriage, arrows, whatever describes the endless assault of pecks he attacks your face with. emphasis on 'could', he has the ability, and the freedom but it doesn't mean he's going to :)
in short you have to work for it, he says.
you can't tell if he's trying to give you one of those motivational, slapping you back to reality lessons or messing with you. you're going to go for the latter since someone as bold as he is lazy.. even jing yuan would relate enough to not hit you with the lesson card.
in a way he's always dragging the time you've gone by without a kiss from him as long as he can just for the sole reason he can see your attempts to conceal your bothered face, even better when the expression of content is all but displayed to him once he gives in.
what? he can't resist you, you know?
you have a feeling he's teasing you again when he says that but it's better to not ponder upon it.
for someone who prefers to 'conserve' his energy. he's got a lot to spare when it comes to the repeated kisses pressed upon your lips, cheeks, eyelids, forehead.. whatever his own mouth can reach. (his favorite is the edges of your eyes..)
just for some reason, one he can't exactly name he ends up giving that particular area more love compared to the others. sometimes more lighter, feathery pecks when he's feeling playful. or the occasional longer, deep press of his lips when he's feeling rather sentimental about his feelings.
he doesn't deserve you.. but if not him, who else? ;)
gets mimi to help him into trapping you inside his office, jing yuan 'calls for your presence' but once you're inside rather than the pressing matters he apparently had to discuss with you (present in his message.) you're met with the man practically snuggling into you as he keeps you in his arms.
rather effortlessly if you might add!
and if you somehow managed to wriggle out his grip. you swore you saw him give the... big... cat a look and suddenly mimi is choosing to sleep right in front of the doors..
come back or you will not get kisses for two days (he's scamming u)
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note. NOT PR... hi hsr fandom 🕳 posting in a new fandom makes me so nerviosity
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inmyloveworld · 2 months
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i'll look after you (bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader)
word count: ~1.3k
synposis: "don't think, just do," was a challenging mentality to live by. but bradley quickly finds there is a balance to be had between thinking and doing.
warnings: allusions to anxiety, work abuse, overthinking
a/n: another hurt/comfort, who's surprised? this has been sitting in my drafts with an unfinished smut ending for a month but i’m electing to post without it as i’m not confident in my ~other~ writing abilities yet.. enjoy!
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It was rare that the Navy ever let its aviators off early for the day; even more so for the elite members of Top Gun. Yet, with the clock barely stroking past a sunny four, Bradley was reclined on the sofa with a beer in hand. The house was spotless thanks to a shared cleaning spree the day prior. Nothing could have made for a more perfect turn of events.
But Bradley was pondering on the few texts he'd received that day. They were void of any of the color and character he was used to. None of the words exaggerated their spelling, and periods punctuated every short sentence. Everyone had once remarked him as a chronic overthinker both in the air and on the ground. It was easy to dismiss the gnawing he felt in his gut as the remnants of that mentality.
So, he cracked a Heineken and let himself indulge in uncommon solitude. The flat screen played his favorite drama to placate his mind. A subtle hunger led to perusing online menus for takeout ideas. Every little bit of stimulation was a welcome distraction from his pompous presumptions.
And then he heard it: the abrupt slam of a car door. Fumbling footsteps made their way to the front stoop followed by a clamoring of keys against the painted wood. Bradley grinned as he awaited the arrival, even through the slight tug of worry in his chest.
He watched as you stumbled inside without care. Shaking hands hung up tightly gripped keys and those same fumbling feet kicked off their shoes in frustration. Your shoulders rose and fell sharply with every short breath.
Was I overthinking?
Bradley had yet to see your face, had yet to meet those eyes always bright with excitement. Your face remained tucked toward the wall with each passing second. Swallowing his hesitation, Bradley spoke over the TV. "Baby?"
Your body reacted in shock, jolting up as your head whipped around.
I wasn't.
Hot tears were rolling down your cheeks. Said cheeks were splotchy, proof that these tears were far from the first you'd shed that day. The bright eyes he adored were puffy and red. Their brightness now was not out of joy but sorrowful watering.
Bradley's heart clenched tightly. "Oh, angel," he cooed, hurrying to displace his Heineken to a coaster and mute the TV. You had little time and no energy left to fight his comfort. As your boyfriend stood before you with open arms, you crashed into them.
He wasted no time in embracing you. Sobs broke past your wobbling lips and muffled against his shoulder. "I've got you, babe," Bradley soothed. "I've got you, it's okay. Just let it out."
All you had ever wanted was for someone to support you whenever life put you through the wringer. Bradley felt it a great privilege to be that support, knowing you'd do nothing short of the same for him. He almost cursed himself for letting his insecurities derail his intuition for you, but dismissed the old habit of self-deprecation. Nothing mattered more in this moment than helping you get back on your feet.
"I- I didn't know, you'd be ho-home," you blubbered. The comment irked something in him. How long had you been coming home in a similar state, putting yourself together just in time for him to get home? Were there more despondent texts or other warning signals he hadn't picked up on?
Each hypothesis built a greater desire to look after you, and to follow up on any twinge of doubt he felt. He needed not only to think but to take action on what he thought. "Shh, none of that, baby. None of that. You can always let go around me, okay? 'Can always tell me what's bugging you."
The words lifted heaviness off of you little by little. You cried more at the safety you felt in his words. Bradley guided you, leaden-legged, to the couch. He sat first before gently tugging you atop his lap.
Warm palms rubbed against your cheeks to dry them. Warmer brown eyes sunk into yours, unconditional love seeping through every glint of gold. "Do you wanna talk about it now, or later?" Though not wanting to let your feelings fester, Bradley didn't desire to press you for answers.
He watched as you took in a steady breath and nodded slowly. "Work's just.. just been really frustrating." You sniffled before continuing with anecdotes of being overworked and underappreciated.
Bradley continued to rub softly at your skin as you spoke. His lips pressed assuring kisses to your temples at times you got too worked up to continue. He gave every ounce of care and attention he could to your stories as you vented them out.
You slumped forward in his hold as you finished with a heaving sigh. Another soft kiss was pressed to the crown of your head. "Thank you for telling me, baby." His hands took up rubbing up and down your arms to help ease any remaining tension.
Bradley wasn't sure what he could say or do to make any of this better for you, to help resolve your problems in one fell swoop so that you never had to feel this way again. At the same time, he wasn't sure that a fix-it attitude was what you wanted or needed.
Don't think, just do.
"I want you to know that you're amazing. You work your ass off in everything you do without any promise of reward, and that's really admirable." You lifted your head slightly to see him, to see the sincerity dripping from his praises. "But you deserve recognition for it. It's not fair that you're continually overlooked for fuckheads who don't do a fraction of the shit you do. And it's not fair that you're made to feel so much less than you're worth. I'd kick all their asses if I could." His empty threat broke a small giggle from your lips as grateful tears replaced those of frustration.
Bradley returned your smile with one of his own before resuming a serious tone. "You don't ever have to put on a show for me, okay? I want you to know you're safe to come to me with anything, even the littlest complaints that you write off as whining. Do you ever think I'm whining about Jake getting on my nerves? Or Maverick getting too tough with me in the air?"
"Sometimes."
"Okay, that wasn't the best example." You laughed again, louder this time, and Bradley felt his chest swell with pride. He leaned forward to catch your lips against his, softly, allowing you to take the reins. The kiss stayed soft and sweet as you melted against him. Soft breaths filled the space between you as you parted, resting foreheads against one another. "I'll always look after you, angel. Don't forget that." You nodded in agreement before kissing him once more.
"Thank you."
🏷️: @avengersfan25
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kyra45 · 3 months
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A reminder that scammers are using the situation in Palestine to make a quick buck by stealing images off news sources passing it off as their own or even taking images from real people there and using it as theirs. They are finding public fundraisers on Facebook or elsewhere and saving it to use for themselves. Scammers do not care about what’s happening there; They only want to make money without caring who’s getting affected by it and making it more difficult for Palestine people to get the support they’re needing.
These scammers pretend they’re from Palestine or say their family is in Palestine and usually use a story that sounds real enough but may seem slightly flawed. They may be going around sending DMs asking for donations in private instead and their posts often have a Linktree link to obscure their PayPal. This is a recent development due to their scams getting called out so often they’ve tried to hide it but keep doing the same thing several times over. However, this isn’t to say everyone who uses that is scamming and most of the time these scammers don’t have any other link on it meaning it’s only purpose is to try and hide the PayPal link out of sight but it also means you can track where it appears! Usually a scam account will reuse links across their blogs and give away their scam.
Additionally, these scammers claiming to be in Palestine/have a family in Palestine often will insist they do what they’re doing for safety reasons if you start asking them questions about their methods. They’ll start getting details wrong, make excuses, and then tell you that you just don’t understand anything at all and that you’re attacking them because you just asked a few simple questions. There has been a case of a scammer who used photos of an American family in a hospital claiming they were in Palestine.
Unfortunately, these scams will only get more numerous in time and the scammers will try to profit off of it since there’s plenty of footage they can claim as their own and plenty of images/stories to steal and pass on as theirs. They will not tell you anything with honesty and will continue to lie for as long as they’d like. They don’t stop when called out and usually just change usernames at a rapid pace and block anyone who comments on their posts saying they’re a scammer.
As a result, here is some suggestions:
1. Donate only to verified sources that are confirmed to be going towards Palestine
2. Donate only to accounts who is verified to be someone who is a Palestine resident usually via other users who know them well
3. Always be wary of DMs from complete strangers asking for money on the spot if it’s a brand new account though older ones pop up trying scams too
4. Ask questions to those who send you DMs that only someone in Palestine would know the answer to. See what they know and how well they reply or see if they stop talking to you the instant you ask them anything. Alternatively, ask for their paypal-me link and see if they’re willing to give it to you. Type it into search and see where it goes. Pay attention to the country, the persons name, and the images they have. Record it for archiving purposes
5. Just be wary of asks sent that claim to be someone in Palestine/have a family in Palestine. As far as I know and can tell, these asks are rarely from legitimate users needing support but that’s not to say they’re all scams some may be real people
Overall, just please be careful out there and pay attention to where your money will go. Make sure it’s a verified support method and ensure the funds are going to who needs it. There are links out there that go to legitimate places, and users are free to share this and add them if they’d like.
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mcgrillzdumpinc · 5 months
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I'll likely make a more in depth post once I've read through all the translated light novels but
Hello Apothecary Diaries fans I am in volume 8 and would like to reassure you about the choking scene from volume 5
Spoilers under the cut!
Okay so there's a scene at the end of volume 5 (the manga is not there yet) that many have interpreted as sexual assault. For the sake of those sensitive to such topics, I'm going to give a light on spoilers version of the scene and then an in depth analysis. Personally, I do not view the scene as sexual assault, but it is very forceful and carries A LOT of very sad subtext. You'll understand what I'm getting at in the more depth part.
So, the general gist of the choking scene.
MaoMao and Jinshi are in the garden to escape a banquet. They talk for a bit about a very scary incident that occurred that day (thankfully nobody was killed) and share casual conversation. Then Jinshi brings up that they're at this banquet to find him a wife. I won't spoil the specifics, but fyi MaoMao has been wearing an accessory this whole time that loudly announces (to everyone except herself, of course) that She's The Favorite™. Despite how obvious Jinshi has been with his intentions, including holding her hand and combing his other fingers through her hair while mentioning the whole wife thing, MaoMao evades him while thinking "I'm not capable of love". So, she tries to dodge him by offering up another woman. This is what causes Jinshi to snap and choke her, as well as hold one of her arms behind her back to stop her from fighting back.
He doesn't kill her. As far as damage to her throat, the text doesn't indicate any. He then leans his weight on her. MaoMao then remembers how she was taught sex techniques against her will be the Verdigris House women & decides to use those techniques against Jinshi. She then promptly leaves and Jinshi feels like the most pathetic man in world.
The two don't interact beyond official matters until towards the end of volume 6. Jinshi brings more rare medicine in lieu of an apology. The two talk around the wife situation again and MaoMao gets tickled. It isn't until volume 7 that they have an actual conversation breakthrough.
That's my light on spoilers version of the events. Now I'll give a more in depth version, that's honestly a good chunk of my own meta-analysis around the events of volume 5.
Honestly, volume 5 is full of really interesting scenes regarding Jinshi and MaoMao. This is the first volume after Jinshi has been forced back into Imperial Brother status, yet the first thing I noticed that actually changed between JinMao is how MaoMao takes initiative with him now. As soon as she learns an insect plague might be on the horizon, she dives into unprompted research and delivers her findings to Jinshi. She's no longer working at the palace or for Jinshi, but she still takes on the extra burden. She also takes initiative to get Jinshi some extra sleep (though she misinterprets his desire to not sleep alone). And later in the novel, when they're in the paper makers' village, MaoMao acts so cute when reapplying Jinshi's burn scar makeup. I'll let screenshots talk for me.
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Like man. She's so cute. And I wonder, if these two didn't have to deal with social standing and imperial drama, would we get way more of them just being cute and companionable? If MaoMao wasn't an unwitting member of the Who Wants To Be An Imperial Princess race, would her feelings for Jinshi have grown without so much pushing and urgency on his end?
But I digress. I think a lot of volume 5, especially once they reach their travel destination, is MaoMao trying her best to keep her blinders on even though she is in the thick of imperial drama. She's especially desperate with regards to the blazingly obvious fact that a certain someone of very high status is in love with her. I think the end of chapter 6 does a very good job of driving home one of the major reasons why MaoMao is reluctant to trust Jinshi's feelings.
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To add fuel onto this unfortunate fire is that MaoMao, as an unmarried courtesan's daughter, was attacked as an infant by her mother, sought after by fucking Lakan of all people, ignored while crying as a baby, and forcibly taught sex (to the point of tears!). She also had to cover for Luomen's own eccentricities, specifically ensuring they had enough money to feed themselves. MaoMao, to put it shortly, has been taught not to believe she can attain anything beyond her very simple life of being a lowly apothecary.
And then here's Jinshi who, as a prince, has been forced to grow up fast & have all his favorite things taken away from him. I think MaoMao is the first time he ever wanted a person. He is, for lack of a better word, obsessed with her. I think a lot of his pushiness & tendency to be clingy with her is him desperately trying to make sure he doesn't lose her. If he makes her his wife, then, well, she can't leave.
And I think the choking scene is him finally at his breaking point. At this point, he has lavished her with gifts, been very forward sexually with her twice, and given her a new hairpin that is essentially this story's version of a promise ring. It's MaoMao's repression/reluctance vs. Jinshi's desperation and so far she's winning.
But then she pushes him past his breaking point and he takes physical action against her. MaoMao responds by performing an unspecified sexual act on him.
So why don't I personally take this scene as sexual assault?
Mainly because I think the people actually guilty of sexual assault her are the Verdigris House women who forced MaoMao to learn sex.
As far as I understand it, whether MaoMao can actually say no to Jinshi is left up to interpretation. If we're talking on social status terms, she can't say no. But if you look at Jinshi's overall treatment of her, both before and after this scene, I very much think MaoMao can say no and instead chooses to defuse the situation.
Because what isn't for interpretation, however, is MaoMao's abysmal impression of what love and sex can actually be for her. So she defuses a situation by using sex, something she herself doesn't like, and doesn't allow Jinshi to reciprocate, which leaves him feeling terrible, too.
I want to be clear. I do think Jinshi is in the wrong for physically attacking MaoMao. But the sexual portion of the scene, at least to me, falls squarely on the shoulders of MaoMao's fucked up backstory.
Anyway, I think I've typed for long enough. I am using the official translations of the light novel for this analysis, so if any fans have access to alternate translations or WN only knowledge that throw my analysis in the trash bin, please let me know (fyi puedo leer el español).
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serahlink · 2 months
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‼️‼️HELP A HOMELESS ARTIST (EMERGENCY COMMS OPEN)‼️‼️
Reblogs are also greatly appreciated!! :)
Making a new post since things are getting really bad again and we're in desperate need of help at the moment. For those who don't know me, you can call me Link (he/him), I'm a homeless artist and since November 2021 my family and I (father and younger sibling) have been homeless and living out of a motel. Since we don't have any family or friend support, or a way to get a job at the moment, I've been doing commissions to try and keep us fed and housed until something changes. I'll put some receipts below.
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Ever since the rents been raised here, it's been a bit troublesome trying to cover things day by day, which we rarely can do. Even food is something that we can't afford sometimes. Right now, we're in that sort of state. So far, we haven't been able to cover the room for two days and getting food has been very difficult for us due to the lack of work. We owe 200$ for the room tomorrow (rent is 65$ a day). While the people here are nice and give us extensions with time and such, we were told if we can't pay tomorrow then we would be kicked out. We have nowhere to go if that happens, no family or friends we can stay with.
So, I'm opening commissions to try and stop that from happening. I'll put some examples and prices below. I mainly draw fantasy oriented stuff such as DnD, Dragon Age, Baldurs Gate, etc. but I can do OCS of any genre/variety. My turn around time is varied depending on the commission and our living situation since it's very unpredictable. For smaller commissions, I take around two weeks. And for bigger ones it could take up to two weeks to a month. Again that could vary. I don't do heavy gore, anything weird or NSFW (I've never drawn it so I'm not confident in selling it). Also, refunds cannot be given. If there's anything that needs to be changed about a commission, I will do it free of charge but refunds are something we can't do due to us needing to use the funds immediately. Either for food or the room.
Please, if anyone could share this or help us out, my family and I would very much appreciate it. Thank you. :")
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~Prices~
Sketch (price depending on type of sketch) - base price of 15$
Sketch page - 15$ per sketch
Headshot - 25$ (+10$ if shaded)
Bust - 35$ (+10$ if shaded)
Half body - 50$ (+10$ if shaded)
Full body - 70$ (+15$ if shaded)
Couples Commission (a commission that includes two people) - 90$ (+15$ if shaded)
Group commissions (commission that includes more than two people, price dependant on the details) - 60 base price(one character, unshaded; each extra character is +75% to the original price) (40$+ if shaded)
Paintings (price depending on the details) - 100$+
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Stolen | Canonverse Angst Oneshot
✧ word count ➼ 1.3k ✧ notes ➼ canonverse, implied soulmates!au, angst, death, levi being in pain :(, all hurt no comfort, i'm not sorry, idk if this is any good but if i didnt post i was going to rip my hair out plus it gave me an excuse to make some sad sad gifs ✧ warnings: blood, death, canonverse-typical violence, prepare for sadness :)
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Even successful expeditions were rarely anything to celebrate. There were generally too many people that died to really make any result worth it. Even if it did technically move humanity forward, the loss of human life always made victory seem somewhat sinister.
This expedition certainly didn't go well, but no one died, which was already something that was practically unheard of. Levi was able to easily account for everyone assigned to his flank, however he had no way of confirming the survival of the soldiers in the left flank—the one you had been assigned to.
Externally, he wasn't too worried. You were capable. Your squad was capable. However, competency and capability could only get you so far. That was how much of an advantage the Titans had over humanity.
Plus, he shouldn't even be having the selfish thought of wanting to immediately confirm your survival. You were supposed to be just another soldier. There was no reason as to why he should prioritize you over anyone else that had come onto the battlefield with him.
Levi sighed to himself as he blatantly told himself that lie. He knew it was a lie. He hated that it was a lie, but your relationship had long moved past the point of being professional.
He remembered the conflicting thoughts that stirred within him when he woke up next to you earlier that morning. The two of you had made a habit of going to see each other the night before an expedition, starting the night off with discussing your shared ire over the world you found yourselves living in before it quickly escalated into another form of stress relief that involved elated breaths and intertwined legs.
You'd see each other, sleep with each other, and then go on your separate ways. This morning was the first one in which Levi didn't immediately leave upon waking. He was usually quick to leave, occasionally electing to avoid staying the night entirely.
The only reason for this was that he didn't want to catch feelings for you. He knew it was a slippery slope, which was why he found himself so pissed that morning when he was forced to admit to himself that he did catch them. He could picture the exact moment that he had realized it. You were stirring in your sleep and a part of him longed for the idea of waking up to that one peaceful moment every day—with the sun shining through the window and you curling up against his chest.
It was just sex at first. It was a good stress relief and you were both easy on the eyes. He had consistently distanced himself emotionally, even on the few occasions in which you would ask him to stay for a while longer on especially stressful nights. He didn't want to get involved in a relationship when either of you could die at any moment, but it was getting harder and harder to stay away from you, and even harder to get himself to leave your bed in the mornings.
Sure, it was just sex—until it wasn't.
It was driving him nuts. He couldn't possibly see himself continuing this friends-with-benefits relationship with you, but he didn't want to cut you off either. He wanted, and needed more.
He had spent the majority of the lengthy ride back to Wall Rose strategizing over how to approach this. Levi had already made up his mind that he was going to bring up the idea of committing. He felt almost pressured to do so. He wanted you by his side, and not just as someone that was readily available whenever he needed to fuck.
He knew some type of celebration was going to occur once they got back to the Walls, given the fact that no one died. It helped keep morale up. He knew you hated how rowdy those could get, so he figured a good opportunity would be to walk you outside to finally have that talk, or maybe he could just go to you as soon as you were back within the Walls and the both of you could spare a minute to be alone.
Levi was sick of waiting and dancing around or avoiding the topic entirely. No matter what happened next, he was determined to show you that your feelings were reciprocated, and not by just a small amount. He couldn't rest until he took that next step to commit himself to being by your side.
~~~~~
Disaster struck. Of course disaster fucking struck. Levi should've anticipated this the minute he noticed that there were next to no Titans on his side of the travel formation.
There was a stench of blood and death in the air as soon as he reached the rendezvous point. The left flank had been ambushed by multiple aberrants. They were still in the process of searching for and retrieving survivors, but the preliminary conclusion was that nearly the entire left flank was wiped out.
Levi currently stood still, his eyes falling on a drape that covered a suspiciously familiar looking body. He was standing only about a foot or two away, with his hand hovering over the corner. All he had to do was lift it to confirm whether it was you or not, but he already knew.
The longer he held off from confirming it, the longer he could continue telling himself that you were okay, and that he can still hold onto the hope that he would still get that chance to tell you what had been brewing underneath the surface.
He took in an unsteady breath and forced himself to grab onto the drape, trying to contain his shaking.
Levi took an unsteady step back, dropping the drape as soon as he came into contact with your eyes, now lifeless.
Every single shared (and occasionally stolen) moment with you flashed through his mind. Those lifeless eyes of yours were once filled with mischief, pain, lust, glee, and hope. He remembered how annoyed he'd get with your tenacity, and how that tenacity ended up contributing to the fact that you were the only person that he felt like could really be competent on the battlefield against the Titans. Your competency was why, even after countless failed expeditions, his faith in you to make it back to the Walls was unwavering.
You had become an odd source of comfort for him. Even when he was actively denying his feelings for you, there was still a huge part of him that would feel safe around you. When he was with you, he wasn't Humanity's Strongest, he was just Levi, and that made you a source of stability in his life that he had been lacking elsewhere.
From the minute that he set eyes on you after you joined the Scouts, he knew that something was different about you, and that there was something drawing him to you. He avoided admitting it for years, and now that he did admit to it, it was too late.
A dark, but unreadable expression fell over Levi Ackerman's face.
He knew.
He had known this for years. He knew that his curse was that the moment that he decided that he wanted something was the exact moment that he lost it.
He knew that you were supposed to be here with him, alive and well, and not as a mangled corpse that resulted from their war with the Titans.
He finally recognized that it was you that was supposed to be by his side, but not in this lifetime—not anymore.
Your life—the life the both of you were supposed to share—had been stolen from him in the blink of an eye.
#: @chaotic-on-main @romantichomicide95 @levisbrat25 @leviismybby @moonmalice @averysmolbear @cathybarn @tclbts @belovedackerman @bejewelledd @sad-darksoul @ackermendick @aomi04 @apolloshaiku @laraackerman @pulpolicia @raenacreates @nube55 @roseofdarknessblog @saenora @noctemys @sixpennydame @sleepyfairyxo @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @levis-squishy-cheeks @dumbfound-princess @evas-leslas @kokosmiles @mrsmiagreer @catskze join my taglist! and pls pls lmk if you wanna be taken off :')
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michaelsgavey · 3 months
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Who Needs Cupid? - Billy Washington X Fem!Reader
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Summary: Today is the celebration of romance and Billy decides to use this day as an opportunity to ask his neighbor he had been crushing on out on a date. However.. things do not go as planned.
Warnings: Other than the fact it’s using she/her pronouns, it’s nothing really.
Type of story: Fluff
Author’s note: Woohoo! First fic here! I was gonna post this on Valentine’s day but i couldn’t wait any longer. This is my first piece of fanfiction and this is my first time writing for Billy so bare with me please. Plus my writing’s a lil’ rusty so i really hope y’all like it 😭 There is rare use of y/n but it IS a x reader fic with she/her pronouns. But anyways.. let’s see the story! I hope you all like it 🫶
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
And there she was.
Here she was outside tending her plants. She always took real care of her outdoor plants.
Billy had come outside to get his mail and he could not help but to take a glance at his neighbor. As silly as it sounded , he may have developed a liking towards her. But how could anyone not? She was kind , sweet , and she is caring. She even brings pastries she cooked around the neighborhood. She was a kind soul indeed.
Her kindness is what drew Billy to her. The two have interacted from time to time but he hasn’t mustered up the courage to ask her out on a date. He was confident that he could do it but at the same time he was scared. What would happen if he did ask her out? Would she reject him? Did she even have a significant other? Those kinds of questions made him slightly anxious.
Was he even her type? Was he even anyone’s type? She was everything. Billy was.. well he’s just Billy. He didn’t see himself as a perfect man. God he was a wreck. He was about to go inside when she waved at him. Billy’s heart fluttered and he waved back with a smile. She went back inside and he sighed before he did the same.
Later in the evening, Billy was at a restaurant having dinner with his sister. He decided to open up to her about his feelings towards his neighbor.
“I don’t understand these feelings, Lana. I want to ask her out on a date and develop a relationship. But I just..” Billy trailed off and took a deep sigh before he looked at her. “I don’t know how to do it. I don’t think I have the courage to ask her out.” He admitted.
“Well-“ Lana was about to speak before Billy cut her off. “I need to have the courage somehow! I mean.. She’s perfect! She truly is a dream girl. I mean.. she’s kind and wonderful and beautiful.. I could go on and on about her.” He said. Lana just sighed.
“Well.. It does not hurt to try. What is there to be afraid of?” She questioned. Billy looked at her and looked down. “What is to be afraid of? Rejection.” He responded. “Again. It doesn't hurt to try it out.” She responded.
He looked at his sister. Maybe she does have a point. It would not be the end of the world if he had tried… right? “Fine. I’ll try to ask her out. Besides, how am I gonna do that?” He questioned. When he asked that , Lana looked like she was thinking.
Billy looked out the window and saw a booth that was selling Valentine’s Day items. It was full of teddy bears, flowers and many more essential Valentine’s Day items. Then he had an idea.
“I could ask her out on Valentine’s day! That’s perfect isn’t it?” Billy said with a proud smile. Lana nods while sharing a smile. Billy beamed and looked confident. “I’ll give her the best Valentine’s gift. Surely it’ll make her want to go out with me.” He said.
It was a good idea. What could go wrong?
__________
It was now the 13th day of the month. A day before Valentine’s Day. Billy was sitting on his couch thinking of ways on how to impress this woman. So far.. he got nothing. What could he give her? What could he do to get her to be in awe of him?
A piece of jewelry? They have been advertising them constantly. No. Too pricey. What about a walk at the park? Would that work? Maybe not. What about a poem? He’s not good at poetry. He could never do that.
Billy sighed and rubbed his face. Why was this so hard? What could he give her for Valentine’s Day? Maybe he should give up.. Wait No. He can’t. He was confident that he would not give up! He has to go for it. He has to shoot his shot.
Billy had stood up and decided to go out. He would go out and find something that he could not only afford , but something that would wow her. He was confident that it would work.
He grabbed his wallet and put it in his pocket before he stepped out of his home. He decided to walk to the local supermarket to see what they’d have to offer. Surely they’d have something good in mind. Right?
__________
After a slightly long walk , Billy entered the supermarket, looked around and tried to find the area that sold Valentine’s day items. He walked around and looked before he saw it. But to his surprise, it was slightly crowded.
Many people were looking around to see what the area had to offer. From lovers looking for something for their significant others to mothers looking for Valentine’s cards for their kid’s Valentine’s party at school , it looked slightly chaotic. Well.. In his eyes it did.
But was he going to back down? No. Billy entered the area and explored the area. Hm.. what could he get her? It was a lot to choose.
Billy strolled through the area, contemplating the perfect Valentine's Day gift for his her. As he explored the shelves, the possibilities seemed endless. From fragrant bouquets to exquisite chocolates, the choices were overwhelming. Yet, Billy was determined to find something uniquely special for her. As he strolled past the section, an idea sparked in his mind.
Fresh flowers! The floral arrangements caught his eye, and he imagined presenting a beautiful bouquet to his neighbor. Billy carefully selected a mix of her favorite flowers, envisioning the delight on her face when he handed them to her tomorrow. “Perfect.” He said with a proud smile.
With flowers in hand, he ventured further into the store, determined to complement the bouquet with something more personal. As he perused the aisles, the confectionery section beckoned him, and he decided on a box of assorted chocolates to add a sweet touch to the gift.
Billy's thoughtful quest didn't end there. He wanted this gesture to be memorable, so he meandered through the store, searching for a charming card to express his feelings. After scanning numerous options, he found one that captured the sentiment he couldn't put into words.
With the bouquet of flowers, a box of chocolates, and a heartfelt card, Billy approached the checkout counter, excitement and nervousness intertwining within him. The cashier smiled knowingly, recognizing the classic signs of someone gearing up for a special occasion.
As Billy left the supermarket, he couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation and optimism. Valentine's Day was just tomorrow, and he was armed with a thoughtful ensemble that he hoped would win over her heart. He was confident with that.
__________
That night, as Billy arranged the flowers, placed the chocolates in a neat package, and signed the heartfelt card, a wave of nervous energy washed over him. He paced around his living room, talking to himself in hushed tones.
“Come on, Billy, you can do this," he whispered, trying to convince himself. He rehearsed what he would say, stumbling over words and then finding the right ones. The weight of uncertainty hung in the air as he debated the pros and cons of confessing his feelings.
“But what if she doesn't feel the same way?" he questioned, glancing at the bouquet as if seeking answers. The possibility of rejection gnawed at him, but a spark of determination flickered in his eyes.
He continued his one-man pep talk, encouraging himself to take the leap. "You've got a great plan, a thoughtful gift. She'll appreciate the effort, right?" Billy mumbled, almost convincing himself that everything would unfold perfectly.
As he prepared for the following day, the internal dialogue persisted. “Is it worth the risk?" Doubts and insecurities clouded his thoughts, but the desire for something more pushed him forward.
With a deep breath, Billy reflected on the moments they shared, the smiles they exchanged, and the connection that had grown between them. The idea of spending Valentine's Day alone, wondering "what if," outweighed the fear of rejection.
With a newfound determination, Billy set the stage for the next day, hopeful that his gesture would be met with warmth.
__________
Valentine's Day arrived, and Billy meticulously groomed himself, selecting an outfit that radiated a charming blend of casual and sophisticated. He spared no effort in ensuring he looked his best, as he hoped to make a lasting impression on his neighbor. He even had a clean shaven face.
As he stood before the mirror, smoothing down his shirt, a surge of confidence filled him. "You've got this," he told himself, determined to approach the day with positivity.
As he made his way to his neighbor's door with the carefully arranged gifts, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursed through him. The bouquet of flowers and box of chocolates were held tightly in his hands, his heart pounding with anticipation.
He really got this. He is about to do it!
However, just as fate often teases with irony, a moment of clumsiness struck. As he approached her door, he tripped over an uneven sidewalk, sending the bouquet of flowers, the box of chocolates, and the heartfelt card soaring through the air. Panic and disappointment washed over him as he watched his carefully arranged gifts scatter in all directions.
“No!” He exclaimed , looking at the gifts he had gotten on the floor. The box of chocolates was open and out , the flowers looked wrinkled , and the card landed on mud.
Billy's heart sank, and for a moment, he contemplated abandoning the mission altogether. He muttered discouraging words to himself, convinced that this mishap had sealed his fate. "I knew I couldn't do this. It was a silly idea," he murmured, berating himself for what seemed like a comedy of errors. “God.. I’m such an fuck up.”
As Billy remained on the sidewalk, contemplating the shattered pieces of his planned surprise, he heard the door behind him creak open. To his surprise, Y/N, with a curious and concerned expression, rushed outside, witnessing the aftermath of the unexpected mishap.
“Billy, are you okay?" she asked, genuine worry etched on her face as she took in the scene. She noticed the scattered flowers, the fallen chocolates, and the way he looked disheartened.
Feeling a mix of embarrassment and disappointment, Billy stammered, "I, uh, I..”
Embarrassment flushed across Billy's face as he stammered, "I... I wanted to give you something for Valentine's Day." He admitted, feeling vulnerable and exposed. The weight of the moment hung in the air as he awaited her reaction.
To his surprise, instead of disappointment, a warm smile spread across her face. "Really? For me?" she exclaimed, genuine delight replacing any concern she initially had. Her eyes twinkled with a mix of surprise and joy.
Billy nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. "Yeah, I wanted it to be perfect, but..." he gestured helplessly toward the scattered gifts, now gathered in his hands. “But, well, it's all ruined now."
To his surprise, she smiled, shaking her head. "Ruined? Not at all, Billy. It's the thought that counts, and this unexpected twist just makes it even more special. I appreciate the effort you put into this."
Perplexed by her response, Billy couldn't help but question, "But, I mean, everything went wrong. I tripped, gifts flew everywhere. How is that not ruined?"
She chuckled warmly, meeting his eyes with understanding. "Billy, it's not about everything going perfectly. It's about the sincerity and effort behind the gesture. The fact that you went through all this trouble to make Valentine's Day special for me means more than anything."
As she spoke, Billy found himself reconsidering his perspective. Perhaps, he realized, the mishap hadn't ruined everything; it had added an element of authenticity to his expression of feelings. His neighbor's reassurance made him appreciate the beauty in the unpredictability of life.
With a smile, she added, "Besides, it's the story we create together that matters. This unexpected twist just makes our Valentine's Day more memorable, don't you think?"
Billy couldn't help but nod in agreement, grateful for the wisdom and understanding his neighbor brought to the situation.
Encouraged by her understanding, Billy took a deep breath, reminding himself of his original intention. The scattered gifts, though imperfect, became a symbol of their shared moment, and he couldn't let this opportunity slip away.
Summoning his courage, he looked into Y/N's eyes and said, "You know, there's something else I wanted to ask you. I was wondering.. if you'd like to go out on a date with me sometime. You don’t have to say yes but..”
His words hung in the air, and a nervous energy surrounded them. The unexpected mishap had paved the way for a more genuine connection, and as he awaited her response, a mix of anticipation and vulnerability played on his face.
Y/N, who had been through the rollercoaster of surprises that evening, grinned warmly. "I would love that, Billy. It sounds like a perfect idea."
Billy's heart swelled with happiness as he processed his neighbor's positive response. A smile graced his face, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement about the prospect of a date.
“I'm looking forward to it. Maybe.. Saturday at six pm?” he replied, a mix of relief and joy in his voice. She nodded and smiled. “Sure. I would love that.” She responded. He can’t believe it. His plan went great! Well.. it wasn’t how he expected but it went great! He was getting the woman of his dreams.
Then with a playful twinkle in her eye, she suggested, "Why don't you come inside for a bit? I've actually made some cake, and I think we could use a sweet ending to this eventful day."
Billy's spirits lifted even more at the invitation. "Sure, I'd love that," he said, appreciating the warmth and comfort she offered.
As they stepped into her cozy home, the scent of freshly baked cake enveloped them. They continued to talk, sharing stories and laughter, turning what could have been a discouraging day into one filled with unexpected connections and delightful surprises.
Feeling a genuine connection blossoming, Billy couldn't help but appreciate the unpredictability of life. In the warmth of her company, he found not only a wonderful Valentine's Day but also the promise of something more meaningful.
Days turned into weeks, and their days together were filled with smiles, shared interests, and the joy of discovering each other. Eventually, what started as a nervous attempt to express his feelings blossomed into a beautiful romance.
In the end, Billy's Valentine's Day plan, despite its bumps and surprises, led him to a happy ending. A love story that unfolded unexpectedly but perfectly, just like the imperfectly perfect bouquet of flowers.
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h0p3l3ssromantic · 8 months
Text
i need to taste it
✨Masterlist coming soon✨
This is a work of fiction intended for readers 18 years of age and older
Please do not copy, translate or share my work here or on other sites
Synopsis: to be very honest. I love sweaty Hyune. He just does something to me and me personally? I’d drink a gallon of his sweat.
Not too much smut. Word count? Not too much lmao
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Sensual: relating to or involving gratification of the senses and physical, especially sexual, pleasure. That would be you, positively sensitive to touch, taste, sound and…smell. someone who loved having her senses removed or intensified. Though not always in a sexual way, that was your favorite way to be sensual. You loved how your man touched you. Every caress, feather light touch, every grip, grab and squeeze, had you doing just that. Squeezing, clenching on him, whatever toys he used on you and sometimes on nothing. Walls begging to be massaged.. 
Mhmm and sounds. Sounds that only the two of you knew. Your moans, screams and begging that you knew he loved so much. The sound of the wetness from your arousal as your man pleasures you…fucks you in every way humanly possible. Always 2 towels underneath you. You tend to make quite the mess. The sounds of his heavy breathing as hes trying to pace himself, you need to cum at minimum 3 times before he can even think of allowing himself to. The sound of his moans…those are rare but fuckkkk do they always get you even more excited. Even more dizzy. Even more soaking fucking wet at the thought of him enjoying himself in your pussy so much that he breaks his dominant demeanor. Your favorite moan of his is the one he lets out whenever he has his face deep in the side of your neck, losing more control within himself with each warm stroke. You always know when hes close…”fuck daddy, do i make you feel good? Are you going to cum in me huh? Come on baby, please, please cum in me” 
“Ughhh ohh f-fuckk baby”
There it is, that moan that has you cumming at the same time as him, putting your hips at an angle that allows him to penetrate deeper…finish harder…push his cum farther up inside you...
Taste. You have tasted every single crevice and inch on his body, never leaving a single body part un tasted, unloved by you. By far your favorite sense to explore with him. You love the taste of his salty cum, usually never swallowing immediately. Letting it marinate on your tongue. You swear you could taste all of the things that made him him. You never want to forget his taste for as long you fucking live. 
The soft thud of the front door bringing you out of your horny, lustful thoughts
Finally your baby is home, you couldn’t wait to see him, as you decided to surprise him at his place for dinner. But upon seeing him post what looked to be a very strenuous practice…you felt a whole new dizzy sensation…
“H-Hi baby!” You say with excitement as you jump out to surprise him
And surprised he is, “hi my love, what are you doing here?” He says, walking up to you, smirking…drenched in sweat…
There’s a strange…pheromone literally oozing from his pores, drips of sweat still clinging to his skin
This scent, this sight, his voice it’s driving you fucking insane
And the sweat..an untasted bodily liquid…is this what’s causing that dizziness?? you had to change that…you had to know what it tasted like…
“I-I just wanted to surprise you, I missed you so much” you say jumping into his arms, straddling him, kissing him on his neck…his sweet spot. Soft kitten licks, between the soft kisses, tasting the liquid resting on his warm skin, “fuck is sweat supposed to taste like this? He smells so…fuckable. You always need and want him but this feels more raw and animalistic the way you need him.
“I missed you too baby, mhmm” he moans “I see someone really missed me, I’m all sweaty baby let me clean up and you can have me however you need me”
“Mhm mhm, I know baby and I don’t care” you beg, “please let me taste it, let me taste you, I want you just like like this”..
Should there be a part 2 to this??Or is it good alone??
A/n: Im trying very hard to not make everything I write about Hyunjin but im down so bad for him. All of them to be honest. The Hyune brainrot is honestly so real I’ve cried about him like 3 times this week. I need him in a pre historic way
As always pls feel free to like, reblog or comment all feedback is good feedback still getting my bearings around this site and smut. Thank you for reading, smooches💋
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I've often heard that it's not okay to put any sort of worldbuilding info(dump) in a prologue. But what are the parameters in which it would work well? I know Avatar has done it and it was fairly brief but I'm just curious as to how far one can go with "infodumping" in a prologue without it becoming boring to the reader. Also if it does get to the point where it is too much or not necessary then what are some ways you can explain worldbuilding in the story when every character is usually in the know of how the magic system works or whatever?
Info-Dumping, Prologues, and Weaving In Details
First, it's important not to confuse "info-dumping" with providing information in your story. Info-dumping is specifically when you use exposition to "dump" a whole bunch of information into the story at once, rather than weaving those details into the narrative through a balance of exposition, action, and dialogue. In The Hunger Games, for example, details about Katniss's life and the oppressive world she lives in are doled out between exposition (her first-person thoughts), dialogue (with Gale), and action (walking through District 12, hunting outside the electric fence, the Reaping.) If it had been info-dumped, the entire first chapter would just be Katniss "telling" the reader all of those things rather than the reader getting to experience some of them through action and dialogue.
Prologues have a very specific use, are rarely needed, and are often misused--which is why writers are typically told to avoid them all together. Prologues aren't there to be used as an expository introduction to your story's world, characters, back story, or situation so that the reader is up and running in chapter one. Prologues are meant to house a scene (or small group of scenes) that take place before the main timeline of your story but which provide critical information and details the reader must know going into the story. Just as with any other scene or chapter, prologues need to be a balance of exposition (explaining), action (things happening), and dialogue. A good example is the prologue at the beginning of George R.R. Martin's A Game of Thrones. The scene takes place north of the wall and features some Night's Watch rangers encountering a White Walker. This scene is important because it sets up the hidden conflict at the heart of the story--the battle between humanity and the magical undead ice beings from beyond the wall. While we do certainly get some expository information in the way of world building, character details, and back story, it isn't dumped on the reader. Some of it is expository, but the rest is woven into the action and dialogue as these characters range beyond the wall and encounter the White Walker.
Even when your characters are "in the know" about the details of your story, that doesn't mean they can't think about them, interact with them, or talk about them. In the real world, we may not do that a lot, but books are not the real world. Books are a storytelling device which requires you to transcend some everyday realities in order to keep the audience informed of what's going on. Part of that means finding ways for your characters to think about, interact with, or talk about things that will help deliver the necessary details to your reader. For example, in The Hunger Games, we get a lot of world building details and Hunger Games set up through action and dialogue while Katniss walking through District 12 to meet Gale, and then hunting with him in the meadow. The entire scene exists solely to introduce the reader to Katniss, her world, the people who are important to her, her internal conflict, and the story's external conflict.
Have a look at my post Weaving Details into the Story for more help. Happy writing!
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