#the self indulgence is purely unfiltered in this one

[cupids-chamber]

EVERYONE wants to live through a fairy tale romance, and y/n especially wanted too.. In the end.. Did y/n get the fairy take they craved?

READERS GENDER NOT SPECIFIED 2.0k words

WARNINGS/TAGS: Implied yandere and slightly implied violence (Reader remains unharmed), mentions of injuries (Just reader taking care of Deuce's wounds), Fluff to angst to fluff.

The two of you met while you were children, your parents had been close friends, so it was a given that the two of you would see each other frequently. Personally, you didn't mind, as Deuce had been an easy going and rather extroverted person, though careless at times, he considered your feelings even at such a young age.

He made sure to share his toys whenever you were around, carefully cooperating in your childish schemes, so as long as he avoids getting into trouble with his mother.

The two of you played pretend quite often, acting out scenes from your favorite play and or stories with great expertise, joking along with each other about how one day the two of you would find your true love, a trope often found in fairy tales that children indulge themselves in.

A common memory the two of you shared, was when Mrs. Spade would read you a storybook, which oftentimes preached of love and affection. Something that seemed silly, disgusting, maybe even a little embarrassing in the eyes of other children, filled you with anticipation, as you craved a love similar to those storybooks. Deuce often recalls moments where you'd preach of love, how you claimed that you'd have your own fairytale, it was rather amusing to say the least.

As the two of you grew older, you both developed mutual feelings for one another.. rather than the true love you had always craved, you received a blissful first love, with your longtime friend. That however didn't last long, as the perfect picture and romance broke, as reality hit the two of you.

Having had a notch for intimacy and communication, a long distance relationship didn't seem savory, but as Deuce planned to make his way to NRC, you realized there was very little you could do, your mind told you to rethink your decision, as the words left your mouth. There, the night before Deuce had left, you had called things off, ending things once and for all.

You had expected the delinquent to lash out, or have some sort of excessive reaction, as for the longest time in which you have known Deuce, he was perceived as a rather emotional being. Oftentimes as a child he'd break down over the tiniest conflict. However, he had no excessive reaction, his eyes which previously shone, turned dark and gloomy, while his face remained unreadable.. After a few seconds of awkward silence, you began to walk away, finding that it would be in your best interest to give him space.

Deuce let out a shaky breath as your form disappeared from eyesight, before he broke down in tears, his knees had given up on him long ago, yet he managed to put on a perfect front in front of you, 'had he done something wrong? or maybe he offended you in some sort of way!' The thoughts of self degradation filled his mind, as he began mumbling underneath his breath, about how he could change, had you asked him too. In fact, he'd be more than willing to rip his heart out and display it for all to see, had you asked him to do so.

All this time Deuce did his best to replicate the delicate mannerism in which those unrealistic stories of love had shown you, the ones of which you praised in your ramblings of love, the unfiltered emotions of pure excitement enlaced within your words, the memory never quite left his mind.

He had taken a liking to you for a while, ever since you were little children. Despite his timid and shy nature, he had approached and conversed with you with ease. He remembered a story his mother read to him once, about how a poet had fallen hopelessly in love with a nymph, then she had bopped his nose, and flashed him a affectionate smile, stating that one day he too would find his nymph. At that very moment, the small child was rather certain that you were his nymph.

Deuce had developed a habit of lashing out at other children and or grow overly emotional in matters which concerned you, rather than use logic like his teachers and comrades had recommended, the boy used violence, and threats.

Though if he was being honest, you never enjoyed violence or the sight of blood, in fact you hated the stench of blood, oftentimes you'd scold him and advise him to stop. 'But how could he?' For everytime Deuce ended up in a fight, you'd treat his wounds, carefully wrapping the bandages around the wounded area, 'how could he stop, when at that moment he was the center of your world, for at that moment your eyes only looked his way'

The next morning Deuce was met with disappointment, as you hadn't bothered to see him off. Mrs. Spade took notice of her son's puffy eyes, and sore throat, he looked restless and tired, and honestly she was unceremoniously surprised by the fact that you hadn't come to see Deuce off, as she was still under the assumption that you two were a couple.

Deuce left his hometown on a rather resentful note, making his way to Night Raven College, one of the most prominent schools of Twisted Wonderland, he recalled how elated you were when you found out he was accepted into the academy, hugging him tightly, your embrace was comforting and warm, a contrast to his reaction which was shock and relief.

The days at the school was rather tiring, Deuce had changed his ways, reforming himself for the school, and unluckily for him, he was put in Heartslabyul one of the most strictest, if not the most harsh dorm to be in. From there he had made many new friends, with whom he'd team up with to cause chaos and mischief. Yet in the back of his mind there was you, always.. you..

His mind was clouded with images of you every night, where he'd become restless, tossing and turning every time. You had been a disease plaguing his mind, much like a song, he couldn't quite get out of his head. He had no control of himself when he had printed all those pictures he had saved of you, pinning them ever so carefully on the cheap board, until it was fully covered. Like a addicted man, he'd scroll through your old text messages, and low quality audio tapes, getting high off the few memories he had saved of you.

Your voice was lovely, and he craved to hear it one more time, and to his utter luck spring break was approaching, the thought of seeing you again filled him with unfathomable joy, how he hoped that you would take in account his changes of behavior and judgment, he didn't notice when Ace was petting his shoulder, trying to catch his attention.

"Huh?" Deuce voiced his confusion, as Ace flashed him a slightly concerned look "Hey man.. are you ok? You've been out of it lately." Ace's genuine worry threw him off guard, however, Deuce quickly recovered, flashing him a smile "I'm fine, just excited to go home, that's all!"

A week before Deuce had returned, you visited Mrs. Spade, despite cutting it off he had still updated you and sent you mail, in hopes for a response, his desperation for you knew no bounds. Mrs. Spade, a woman who was your second mother at heart, seemed to sense your worries, as she helped you settle down. While she made tea for the two of you to share, you opened up about the two of your breakup, and every now and then Mrs. Spade would chirp in, providing vocabulary, advice, and humorous input to keep your mood afloat. Somewhere along the lines, she had convinced you to try and rekindle your relationship with Deuce. 

So, when Deuce had returned home, you greeted him at the door, the air surrounding the two of you was rather awkward, at least on your part, Deuce was ecstatic to see you again, tho he kept a rather composed expression, returning your greeting, mirroring one of the greetings he had read previously in one of those silly romance books you had read and boosted about. 

You paid no mind to the gesture, finding it unsettling to see Deuce this calm, instead you took notice of how his hair was no longer dyed an irky, eye stinging blonde, and how not a single injury could be found on his visible body. It made you hum in satisfaction, a gesture Deuce was all too familiar with.

It took some convincing to get Deuce to spend time with you, 'why was he being so difficult when he was the one sending love letters to you, every other week.' Though the letters couldn’t quite classify as love letters, It was odd nonetheless, Deuce's actions seemed all too familiar, yet you couldn't recall anything of this sort.

This weird upsetting feeling continued in your many outings together, the air always felt unfamiliar and rather suffocating.. the way he poured tea, all the way to Deuce’s manor of speech.. all seemed like a well scripted act.. One would call it, straight out of a fairy tale. Something you've grown to despise, true love and love at first sight.. etc. Everything seemed illogical and unbecoming, they weren't real.. After all, you've grown past such childish whims, and dreams. 

You were so concerned with your own thoughts that you had failed to notice the glare that Deuce would send to any man near you, how his breath hitched when he caught the scent of your perfume/cologne, a obscene blush creeping onto his face, the way his eyes glowed obsessively around you, how the small handkerchief, and other useless trinkets of yours would go missing, you failed to see the obscene and unsettling expressions that he showed openly, the way he stare so intently at you, analyzing your every move, while he figured out what action he should return to appease you. Maybe a part of you had recognized the red flags that seemed all too apparent for the other town folks around you, you just chose to ignore it. 

When you had finally confessed to him, once again like before.. What you had hoped to see was a flustered man, inexperienced in the terms of love, yet instead you saw Deuce with an unsettling smile, his cheeks tainted red, as he gently embraced you and kissed your forehead. You overlooked the action, passing it off as maturity, you couldn't expect Deuce to be the same person he was, when you had first confessed to him.

However, over time the walls of a once blissfully unaware paradise came crashing, as the signs seemed all too transparent.

Deuce's actions, words, and everything seemed all too familiar to be simple coincidence, you skimmed through your memories searching for an answer.. an answer you couldn't find, no matter how hard you looked. It wasn't until one day, where you stumbled across the old storybooks that Mrs. Spade had read to you in the past, did you remember. It was as if certain puzzle pieces fell into place.

You compared all of Deuce's behavior, and aligned it with the descriptions, written ever so neatly on the fine parchment paper, of each hardcovered book. If you had known about this sooner, you would have found it sweet and rather lovable, however your mind was no longer that of a child, who believed in fairytales and or the aspect of true love, the gesture proved to be more alarming than tooth rotting sweetness.

Deuce had gone to so many lengths to keep you around, but it made you question, 'had you ever known or met the real Deuce Spade?', it seemed up to this point your relationship had been built on lies, it was only then it clicked, and memories from your childhood filled your mind, how Deuce would treat you differently from others, how he'd get particularly violent with other men around you, all of which didn't seem too abnormal, appeared to be much more sinister than before.

Maybe the violent and intolerable, Deuce... was the real Deuce Spade, and maybe you have been led to believe a rather cruel but sugar coated lie.

It was only then did Deuce's words reach your ears, as you, for the very first time met his dim eyes, void of affection.

© cupids-chamber, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

#twst #twst x reader #yandere twst #twst fluff #twst imagines #twst angst #twst headcanons #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland fluff #twisted wonderland angst #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #deuce spade x reader #deuce spade #deuce x reader #deuce #twst deuce #twst deuce x reader #twst deuce spade #twst deuce spade x reader #twisted wonderland deuce #twisted wonderland deuce x reader #twisted wonderland deuce spade #twisted wonderland deuce spade x reader

[mayhem24-7forever]

The Dungeon Master’s Throne

Eddie Munson x Reader Oneshot

Author’s Notes: This is pure self-indulgent unfiltered smut, I’m so so sorry. I’m not comfortable with minors reading any of my fics but especially not this one. Please respect my boundaries, I deserve a safe place to express myself. This is for @bvcksmunson​ and @chaseadrian​ (who beta reade this, ty ily). Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Content Warnings: AFAB reader with she/her pronouns, SMUT, bondage (handcuffs), gags (panty gag, bandana gag), cockwarming and objectification, dirty talk (including “slut” and “whore”), orgasam denial/control, Dom!Eddie, Sub!Reader, penis in vagina sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

“What did I say about moving, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, so casually it was like a slap in the face to his girlfriend given their current position.

Eddie had somehow convinced the drama teacher to let him have the keys to the theater so he could plan his next D&D campaign there late at night, after even the janitors had gone home. He sat on his usual seat, a prop throne made for a spring musical years ago, the long table in front of him, although the chairs were missing their usual club members. He hadn’t turned the stage lights on as bright as he usually did but it was still enough light and heat to make someone sweat if they sat under them for too long, which they had been. It had been at least half an hour since Eddie had begun scribbling out his notes and plans for the next campaign, although she couldn’t see a clock from her position. She shifted again ever so slightly but stopped when Eddie delivered a firm slap on her ass, causing her to squeak in surprise.

“I thought I told you not to move.” Eddie warned and she let out a long whine of frustration.

For the past thirty minutes, she had been straddling his lap as he sat on the throne, Eddie’s cock buried deep inside her core under her skirt. Her panties were shoved into her mouth, muffling any noise she tried to make, the fabric held inside by Eddie’s favorite bandana, which he had tied around her head tightly. She could taste her own arousal on the fabric and bit down on the bandana to stop from moaning. Her hands were cuffed behind her back and she wrung her wrists lightly, testing her bonds every few seconds as if her restraints would somehow loosen. Her head was buried into his shoulder, her heaving chest rubbing against his, the patches on his denim vest teasing her nipples through the thin fabric of her shirt. One hand was on her lower back, keeping her pressed to him as the other scribbled away on the assortment of papers laid out on the table before him.

She could feel every inch of him, her walls stretching with a delicious ache, every nerve screaming for him to move. She felt so full and yet so empty, wanting to fuck herself silly with his dick, even if he wouldn’t help. She wanted to push herself up and use every last bit of strength in her legs to move up and down his cock until she came. But she knew better, this was her punishment for teasing him all day, something she had done specifically to rile him up, and now she was reaping the benefits and the consequences of her actions. She let out a pathetic sounding whimper and pressed her forehead harder into the crook of his neck, desperate for the needy desire burning in her stomach to be fulfilled.

Her hips rocked ever so slightly, hoping to bring even a sliver of relief to her filled pussy, trying to move so slowly and so carefully that Eddie wouldn’t notice. But he did, sighing and putting his pen down before grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her backwards to look up at him, his other hand remaining on her back to stop her from leaning too far back. She craned her head up at him and her eyes flashed him the most pitiful look, wide and close to tears as her eyelashes fluttered, as if batting her eyes at him would make up for disobeying him. It did not.

“You just can’t be a good girl can you?” He asked with a playful and mocking tone as he brushed strands of hair away from her face. “You just wouldn’t stop being such a cocktease today and I had thought a bit of time as my cockwarmer would straighten you out.”

He trailed the hand down her face, stroking her cheek lovingly before continuing on downwards as she mewled, his cold rings leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“All you had to do was stay still and stay quiet until I finished outlining the campaign’s story…” he said casually before grabbing her by the back of the neck and pulling her closer to him. “But you can’t even do that, you’re too much of a filthy fucking slut desperate for my cock.”

She whimpered as he slid his hand around to the front of her throat and tightened his hand for only a moment, a brief but firm reminder that he was in charge. His other hand palmed her ass and she let out the tiniest squeak when he squeezed her flesh roughly. Her eyes were pleading with him to show her mercy and help her with the burning in her core but he only laughed.

“Is there something you want to say?” he asked and she nodded vigorously as he smirked and loosened the bandana, pulling the wadded up panties out of her mouth. “Well?”

“Eddie please, oh god, please fuck me! I’m so sorry for teasing you, I won’t do it again.” she rambled quickly, the words pouring out before she even had time to think about it. “It hurts and I need you, I need you so bad. Please, please, please!”

“Tempting… very tempting my little cockteasing whore, but you misbehaved today and you need to be punished.” he replied, his hand moving up her neck to allow his thumb to rub her jaw.

“Please, please, I’ll be so good! I’ll do anything!” she begged, her back arching as she pushed her breasts up towards him as an enticement.

“Anything?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Yes, Eds, anything, anything you want.” she answered and he seemed to consider it.

“Anything I want?” he asked again.

“Yes, Eddie, anything!” she replied desperately, nodding her head vigorously.

“Then shut up and stay still like a good girl.” he said harshly, a smirk on his face as he stuffed the panties back into her mouth and knotted the bandana tighter than it had been before.

She cried out in a mix of surprise and despair at his actions, unable to even squeak before it was muffled by the fabric. He shoved her back against his chest again, the hand on her ass moving up to stroke her hair comfortingly as he grabbed his pen with the other hand and resumed his work. A few tears of frustration fell from her eyes as she buried her head back into his neck. She was going to stay so still and silent that he’d think she was a statue, even if it killed her.

And so she counted seconds. She thought about D&D. She thought about what she had for breakfast and when the newest Queen album was going to come out. She thought about anything and everything that would distract her from the fact that Eddie’s cock was lodged in her pussy. She didn’t know how long it had been and she had shed quite a few tears of frustration but finally she heard Eddie put his pen down. Her pussy clenched in anticipation and Eddie chuckled, the vibrations resonating in his chest and to hers.

He pulled her back to look up at him and smiled when he saw her tears streaming down her cheeks and onto his bandana.

“See? That wasn’t so hard!” he said, wiping her tears and brushed strands of hair from her face again. “You were a good girl. And good girls get rewarded.”

He smirked and that was all the warning she got before his hands clamped down on her hips bruisingly hard and he began to bounce her up and down on his cock at a brutal pace. She came almost instantly, having been given too little for so long that even just one stroke could send her over the edge. Her scream was muffled by her gag and Eddie could feel her walls squeezing his dick like a vice. Eddie kept fucking her through her orgasm and when she was finished, he moved a hand to her clit under her skirt and began to rub circles on it. Over and over again, he rubbed his thumb on her sensitive spot as his cock hammered in and out of her pussy.

Quickly, she was launched into another orgasm, but he didn’t let up, his hips still snapping up as his fingers continued playing with her clit with the same delicious dexterity he used when he was playing his guitar. She moaned into her panties already feeling another building up impossibly fast, but this time she didn’t cum alone. Eddie grunted loudly as he rammed into her and groaned when he held her down so she was taking his entire shaft when he released his load into her battered pussy. Her orgasm was harder than the other two had been and her scream carried loudly through the gag as her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

The three successive orgasms had left her boneless, only held up by Eddie’s arms. Once again, she was crying although it was mostly out of relief and intense pleasure this time. Eddie was panting as he leaned her back to get a better look at her face as she returned from whatever blissful place her mind had gone. He pressed a loving kiss to her forehead and smiled down at her.

“Such a good girl, taking my cock so well, cumming for me so many times.” he cooed and she made a pleased noise at his words.

She realized suddenly that he was still buried deep within her and she moved to pull herself up, only to have Eddie pull her back down. She squeaked in confusion, cocking her head to the side and shaking her chains as a reminder that she was still handcuffed. He smiled and she picked up the mischievous glint in his eye.

“I finished my story notes but I haven’t done the character sheets yet.” he said and chuckled when her eyes went wide in surprise and she let out a noise of muffled protest.

He carefully pulled down the bandana and removed the panties from her mouth and her large inhale was interrupted by Eddie’s lips locking with hers. His tongue was aggressive in that loving way that only Eddie could manage to balance. She moaned into his mouth, leaning into the kiss and was thoroughly disappointed when Eddie pulled back.

“The character sheets should only take another fifteen minutes or so. I need my cock to be kept warm and for my cum to stay inside you while I work. Do you want to tap out, baby?” he asked, gazing down at her lovingly.

“No.” she responded in a quiet voice, her throat hoarse from her muffled screams.

“What if I play with your pretty little clit the entire time? Make you cum over and over again on my cock until you can’t even remember your own name.” he asked and her pussy clenched at the thought. “Would you still want to do it?”

“Yes.” she breathed out in a moan.

“Such a good girl.” he cooed and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “You’ve been so good that I won’t gag you this time. You can make all the noises you want. In fact, I want your screams and moans to be the background music as I work.”

“Oh fuck, Eds…” she said breathily as he captured her mouth with his again and from his hunger, she could tell that her pleasurous torture was far from over. And that was just how she wanted it.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 4

[disruptivevoib]

scrambles … hi, what is your thought process when planning out designs / drawings if you have a specific one

Helloo!

Both have general processes!

Drawings wise just depends on if I want to make a new piece or not. If I do, usually I make a symmetry tool and make some kind of a box in the middle! Take this WIP for instance:

Which is a scrapped composition for my "We're Gonna Win" piece! I still liked it, so I moved it to a new canvas and made the inner box a little bit bigger than what it is for my CCCC album works!

Though a lot of these canvases get left at the wayside. Unfortunately. But my point still stands! Compositions I will usually draw anywhere from 1 to upwards of 5 thumbnails for. Most of the time though, that is only if I have a specific idea in my head.

I've got a lot of "mass doodle" canvases where I've just drawn a host and assortment of things, some of which I've blown-up on a canvas and drawn over to make a full piece of work!

As for designs,, sort of? I like to put a lot of symbolism and meaning into them where I can, otherwise its pure unfiltered self indulgence. Lots of the time with HMS aus I've asked myself "what haven't I done yet?" and gone from there. Thus giving me white haired Heart, Mind, and Soul in different varying aus (Good Day, Syncopation, Lacuna).

I also like to use colors that are going to look nice with one another, and for clothing I'll occasionally peruse Pinterest for ideas.

Good example I suppose is my Soul Line-up, of which I intended to do a Mind and Heart version, I just.. haven't had the focus for it (Plus there are souls I could probably add to this by now. oops!)

For Soul, though, I like to keep the red and the grey, then add in black and white where I see fit. I also generally try to consider the personality of the character when giving them a design.

Purpose isn't going to have many accessories, he's based more in being useful and fulfilling their point in being Whole than he is looking like someone at all. Versus, Calliope (Eleutheromania)! Who desperately wants to individualize himself and feel in control. What gives you more control than a goofy suit with a tailcoat? Or, Pluto (Lacuna), who wears items of his long since dead Mind and Heart to remember them by. He is so so cozy but also soo sentimentally sad.

Just things like that, which I think make sure the character is evident in their clothing, hairstyle, expressions and so on.

Hopefully that is well explained! But thank you for asking o7

#asks #I didnt want to make this 200000000 words long so I tried to condense down my thoughts #voidthoughts

[rosietrace]

Stars around my scars

Characters Featured: Victoria Shard, Heartslabyul! Noriko Dolion(@terrovaniadorm)

Mentioned: Elara Cessair(also by @/terrovaniadorm)

Pairing(s): Heartslabyul! Noriko & Victoria

Synopsis: Noriko lost someone once. And even in a dream, they weren't going to bring themselves to lose her too.

Warning(s): Pure self-indulgence, ✨angst✨, character death (in a dream), mentions of blood, Etteilla spoilers(?), like... One reference to Noriko's backstory, I listened to too much Taylor Swift and this is what happens /j, potentially ooc

†•°•══════ஓ๑「♢」๑ஓ══════•°•†

It was all… A void. A void that Noriko couldn't seem to escape from.

No matter where they ran, who they called out to — No one.

It felt isolating. So quiet, so… Odd.

With their sword in hand, Noriko wandered this endless void; Hell, they couldn't tell if they even went far at all, or if they were in an endless loop.

They took in their surroundings — or lack thereof — and spun 360°. Trying to see if they missed anything.

A landmark, a path, a person. Anything to try and escape this loop.

But then Noriko saw it. Saw her.

Victoria stood a long distance away from him, her back facing him with her hands tucked behind her.

Feelings of relief and worry filled Noriko's veins as they made their way to the woman in less than a heartbeat.

“My Lady!” Called out Noriko, “My Lady, are you hurt?!”

Victoria turned her head to look at him, lips parted, eyes cat-like and sharp. He noted that they were both in their dorm uniforms.

Noriko brought their arms around her as soon as they got close enough to touch her. A relieved look filled their eyes, just as much as worry did.

“My Lady…”

“Nori,” Victoria's hand brought itself to the side of Noriko's face. “Why are you here?...”

“The better question, my Lady, is why we're here.”

Noriko let out a breath, keeping Victoria close to their chest. She could feel it, their heartbeat. Beating with each passing second.

Victoria's arms wrapped around Noriko's frame not long after. And for a moment, Noriko felt…. Content. Protected.

Safe.

But the smell of iron filling his nostrils had soon dissipated that peace.

Noriko's eyes shot open, widening in size when they saw the large stain of blood on their abdomen.

On Victoria's abdomen, and the gaping hole that went through it.

A strangled sound left Noriko's mouth, one filled with devastation. With an unfiltered, potent need to protect her from a force he probably couldn't protect her from.

Victoria nearly fell. And when worst came to worst, it was — and always will be — Noriko to catch her in those moments.

Those moments where she'd fall.

“My Lady,” he brought his hands to her cheek. “M-My Lady…. My Lady…!”

Blood dripped down on the dark void of ground beneath them, the dark red substance trickling down her half-parted lips.

Her eyes, once filled with life, with a sapphire hue Noriko had put to complete memory — were so hollow. So lifeless.

Victoria tried. She tried to bring her hand to the side of their face.

Her hands, Noriko couldn't bear to feel the lack of warmth emitting from them just as much as they couldn't bear not being able to intertwine his hands with hers.. Cold as ice.

There it was again. That grieving, strangling sound of frustration that continued to leave their mouth.

They cried out to her, screamed at her. Hoping that, if they were pathetic enough — if they begged a God that never truly existed — the universe would bring her back.

That he'd be able to have her in his arms and it wouldn't come to this.

It's happening again, Noriko's thoughts turned frantic. Uncontrolled. It happened with Talia, it's happening to her…

Noriko made dozens of feeble attempts to wake Victoria of this nightmare.

Shaking her by her shoulders, calling out her name in hopes she could hear; And having enough desperation within themselves to bring their lips to hers.

As if, for just a moment, True Love's kiss was the answer.

But it wasn't. Reality was cruel, and it always will be, stripping away at one's joy until they have nothing left.

It must've felt like hours, holding her bloodied corpse in their arms for that small eternity. All the while tears streamed down their face and fell down her unmoving porcelain cheeks.

She felt so cold.

༝ㅤ･ㅤ˚ㅤ。ㅤ.ㅤ⋆ㅤ꒷꒦꒷꒦ ✧̣̩⋆̩☽⋆゜【♛】

Noriko jolted awake, body trembling to the point they had to sit themselves up to compose themselves.

Their movements were similar to how they were in the dream. Frantic, panicked.

Their eyes darted around the room. They knew where they were, they knew every nook and cranny of their room like the back of their hand.

But none of it seemed to reassure Noriko that this wasn't just another part of that… That- Nightmare.

“Nori.”

But then Noriko heard her voice, and the world seemed to bring them back into a comforting embrace. A reality, a life, that they'd want to live over, and over again.

Before they could even process anything else, Victoria took her hands in his.

“Nori,” she let one of her hands move up to their cheek. “Are you alright?...”

He wasn't. She knew he wasn't. But they both knew she only asked the question to hear them answer it from their lips.

“Victoria…” Noriko's eyes were filled to the brim with relief.

She flinched a bit when they brought their arms around her frame and embraced her. But Victoria dared not complain.

She withdrew a breath, allowing that part of herself to reciprocate Noriko's embrace to try and bring comfort to them in that moment.

Noriko withdrew a breath as well. Multiple breaths. They let themselves bury their face into the crook of Victoria's shoulder. If they felt embarrassed about the action, they didn't dare show it.

“You're not okay,” Victoria was certain.

“I…. I am,” Noriko tried to argue, “I'm fine.”

“You're not.”

“But I am, My Lady.”

“Nori, you clearly aren't-”

“My Lady, I'm fine,” The tone that came from Noriko's voice was filled with a desperate, silent plea like it was ripped right out of their chest; As if the one thing in that mind of theirs was to just convince Victoria — brilliant, analytical woman that she was — that they were okay.

The look in her eyes nearly undid him.

So soft. So endearing. So…. Beautiful.

Sapphire hues looked at him so intently, and a shiver cast down Noriko's spine. Why was she-?

A kiss. Not particularly one on the lips, but one on the forehead.

And another one on both temples. Another on their cheeks.

And another. And another.

Noriko's face burned a deep crimson. “M-My Lady-”

“Shhh,” Victoria pressed her lips against the edge of Noriko's jaw. “Tell me what happened.”

“My Lady, I don't quite follow.”

“In that dream,” she took the tension currently on their body as a sign. “Tell me.”

“I…” Noriko's lips pursed. They looked down at their hands, still shaking, ever so slightly. “... I don't know if I can.”

“You can, Nori.”

She adjusted herself a bit, now leaning against the headboard and gently massaging Noriko's shoulders to remove any excess tension.

“You can,” her tone was neither stern nor demanding. “And you will.”

…. She knows me too well, Noriko closed his eyes, taking a breath and permitting oxygen to fill his lungs. Perhaps too well.

Whatever Victoria asked of him, whatever she seemed to demand from him; Noriko would do it without question.

“It was less a dream,” Noriko leaned into Victoria's arms, eyes fluttering and closing. “And more a nightmare.”

All Victoria had to respond to that was a hum.

Noriko continued after a couple of deep breaths. They told her everything they could recall, in as much detail as they could muster up.

That void of emptiness. Her, standing so close, yet so far.

“Blood,” Noriko's breath hitched, and they held onto one of her hands for dear life. “So… So much blood..”

Victoria's eyes fluttered, and just like before, she pressed a gentle kiss on Noriko's forehead.

At the very least, Noriko felt less flustered and more… Content.

“It's gone now,” with one hand intertwined with theirs, she used her free hand to rake through his long blue locks. “It's all over now.”

“I'm here, Nori… Always.”

“I know, My Lady.”

“... Remember that.”

Noriko's eyes opened slightly, looking up at her with an admiration Elara always mocked them for. “Remember what?” They questioned.

That was when that signature ghost-like smile soon became clearer on Victoria's face. She didn't answer verbally, rather, she brought the back of his hand to her lips and placed one or two kisses upon it.

Noriko chuckled. Embarrassed as they must've felt, they also clasped at this moment like it was the last thing they'd ever do.

“I don't deserve you.” They told her after a few, sullen moments.

Victoria frowned a bit. “Don't say that,” she said.

“It's true,” Noriko insisted. “I don't. You're too….”

She arched a brow, and all they could muster was the barest hint of a smile. “You've done so much for me,” Noriko mumbled.

“My scars,” they looked up at the ceiling. “You saw them — accepted them — and turned them into something beautiful.

“You drew Stars around them.”

“They were already beautiful,” Victoria argued, pulling him closer. “I didn't do much with them.”

“But you did.”

“Did I?” Her smile turned into a slight grin. “Your scars… They aren't a burden to bear.”

“They are a symbol of the honor you carry. And I wouldn't have it any other way.”

If Victoria's bearings could get any softer, they certainly started to. “Take my hand,” she had the both of them lie down, face to face.

“Take my hand, and don't drop it.”

“I could never,” Noriko's words were nothing short of a promise. They leaned into her hold, letting her bring them into an embrace they'd wished would last an eternity.

But, sometimes…

“... I'm sorry,” Noriko breathed softly against the crook of her neck.

For their devotion. For being the way they were.

For being so weak in front of her. How could they protect the woman they held dear with an emotional state quite like theirs?

Such words with silent questions only made Victoria seemingly pull them so much closer to her, and she pressed one last kiss atop their head.

“You don't need to apologize, Nori.

“You never have to, anymore.”

†•°•══════ஓ๑「♢」๑ஓ══════•°•†

「 This Oneshot is part of a list of oneshots that will be released prior to the 2024 Valentine's Event — which will be released on February 14th 」

•♡°─────────°♡•

Taglist

🥥

@starry-night-rose || @jasdiary || @authoruio || @fumikomiyasaki || @sakuramidnight15

—

Written For

@terrovaniadorm / @hallowed-delights

—

「 Etteilla ♢」

@twsted-princess || @mystery-skulls-ghost || @abyss-wonderer || @twistedsongstressofstarz / @absolutelyobsessedkiya || @geminiiviolets

#twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #twst ocs #mutuals <3 #「 etteilla ♢」 #etteilla twst #etteilla oc #victoria shard #『 vic ♢ 』 #noriko dolion #⚖️ — the disgraced knight #『 nororia ⚖️ 』 #twst #disney twst #ツイステ #ツイステッドワンダーランド #twistedwonderland #twisted wonderland #oc x oc #[2024] rosie valentines day ❣️

[cadmusfly]

magical girl marshalate au

Uh.

This is just a dump of what I ended up rambling about on discord to various people because i cant stop, very slightly edited but I can't really be bothered writing this up into a proper thing right now

so have pure unfiltered lowercase cad sentence fragments after the cut (you too can experience this by adding me on discord)

I do not have plans for this apart from some silly doodles, I don't even have that much magical girl show experience, this is just. based off vague tropes that other things parody or something, feel free to steal or remix these ideas or whatever

link to the doodles of Shining Sabre (Lannes) and Sentinel Strategist (Soult)

if anyone has any additional ideas just throw them at me

but basically yeah TL;DR:

A mix of angsty schoolkids, exhausted college students and overworked office workers are actually the reincarnations of Napoleon's trusted generals! A strange penguin claiming to be Napoleon has empowered a school boy and an office worker with magical powers, entrusting them with the mission to find and awaken the hearts of the others while fighting off the evil Coalition of Nightmares! Will the Magnificent Marshals reunite in this strange modern times, or will they fall to shadow and darkness?!?!?! And is Napoleon actually telling the truth????

--

so we have some kind of magical napoleon who is trapped in the form of a cute cartoon mascot penguin, some kind of ghost or fairy or alien or maybe even The Real Historical Napoleon

who is seeking the reincarnations of his marshals and needs to awaken their hearts to magic in order to fight against something he claims

so the ones that he's awakened - it would be very funny and self indulgent to me personally for the first ones to be lannes and soult - are tasked with finding the others

but they are stymied by the Nightmare Coalition, who are pretty much evil shadow monsters until evil magical girls Alexander and Wellington show up

but also napoleon might not be telling the whole truth or something

i think that napoleon is genuinely looking forward to reuniting with his pals, and doesn't want to awaken junot because of what happened to historical!junot

but also napoleon has some sort of agenda he's not telling people, whihc couild be something like the Nightmare Coalition isn't actually evil

and they arose to stop him from conquering the world or something

why is he okay with awakening lannes but not junot, why is he specifically awakening the reincarnations of his marshals, those certainly are questions

duroc is either another cute funny animal who napoleon hangs out with, or duroc is a normal guy at whose house napoleon crashes

i cant decide whether to have the marshal reincarnations be schoolboys at a high school, or... office workers, that would be really funny

oh my god some of them are high schoolers, some of them are uni students, some of them are office workers theres 26 of them

... if we have soult and lannes forced to work together, lannes is the office worker, soult is a high schooler because. the other way around would make too much sense.

and soult is just so fucking done with this adult man being so stupid

and lannes is like "this is the prime of your life! you should be enjoying yourself, young man!!"

their ages do not match up with their historical ages because thats funnier

junot is a schoolboy

bessieres and murat are college students who are roommates

murat is doing a degree in uhhh fashion design or theatre and he also does SCA reenactment so he knows how to hold a sword! but he has no clue about the napoleonic stuff

bessieres is a perpetually exhausted med student who is a hairdresser on the side

courtesy of @phatburd, ney is a normal guy who actually isnt like the historical ney at all, but. due to all the shenanigans and weirdness - he is in a sparkly short skirt fighting monsters - he just gets more done and fed up with everything and thus more aggro

(could be fun in a horror/creepy way if its because of past life memories taking over, i do like my identity horror, or could just play it for comedy by having him just. be like that due to all the nonsense)

lannes is a glass cannon who has super speed and is fast, soult may be able to do green lantern esque-summoning but takes a really long time to do it so he can't react quickly, ney may be literally on fire, murat has illusory copies of himself because he's so vain

im this close to giving everyone RWBY esque stupid weapon combos

soult has a gunscythe because. baker soult memes -> bread is made of wheat -> scythes cut wheat

lannes has a gunsabre

--

anyway feel free to tell me additional ideas for the Magnificent Marshals or whatever

maybe we can have other people in the setting awaken like Josephine or Caroline as tuxedo masks or something

what even is this au

#cadmus rambles #cad rambles about dead frenchmen on main #magnificent marshals au #i guess thats a tag now

[laureliciousdefinition]

Let You In | Din Djarin X Reader

Summary: you’d always let him in, whether you liked it or not.

Rating: mostly T but let’s say 18+ just to be safe!

Warnings/tags: brief smut, a lot of angst, heartbreak, not really canon compliant bc Star Wars canon is hard to keep up with<3

A/N: this is an extremely self indulgent piece based off of Laufey’s song “Let You Break My Heart Again” because I feel like din just fits so well into it. It’s a beautiful and gut wrenching piece that everyone should listen to!

Crossposted on ao3

It never meant anything. You were both young- he was a few years your senior and had that undeniable charm most boys that age possessed, all roaming hands and whispered compliments that made your head spin. You were quick to swoon for him, of course, but you rerouted your thoughts to purely infatuation and reminded yourself that it was only sex between the two of you. Just two people seeking relief from the constant noise and pressure that never settled with your lines of work. Despite this, the sex never really felt meaningless to you, and you hoped he secretly shared the sentiment somewhere under that helmet; he made you feel understood. In that first year of meeting he grew to know your body better than you ever could’ve. Took you apart and put you back together again as many times as he could.

“Fuck- ah, oh my god,” you breathed out, perched on bent elbows with your head thrown back after your neck muscles couldn’t take it anymore.

Though you couldn’t see him, lights off and windows covered in the tiny apartment, you could feel him. He braced one of your legs over his shoulder and relentlessly swirled his hot tongue over you.

“Yeah?” You heard him respond, pulling away from your center.

Blindly, you reached your hand back out to him, lightly smacking his cheek and ear in the process, before grabbing the back of his head and pushing it back against you. You could feel him chuckle, continuing his ministrations. He loved to take you apart this way before doing anything else; you suspected he enjoyed the power dynamic of making you putty in his hands. Sometimes he’d let you switch the roles, but he always seemed to beat you to the punch before you could, making you cry out and thrash against his tongue until you begged him to stop. He was unfairly good at it.

When you’d both collapsed into your bed that evening, thoroughly satiated and spent, he was holding you from behind. You desperately yearned to see his face but you’d never force it, not when you knew how much it meant to him, so you settled for these moments. It was just as vulnerable for him- helmet-less behind you, nose buried deep into your hair and voice unfiltered.

“I took another job for the month,” he’d said, filling the silence.

You traced a pattern over his bare hand with your thumb. “Where? I’ve been on the hunt for new jobs for weeks and it’s all been scraps,” you asked incredulously, voice still hoarse from your previous activities.

You almost missed the way he stilled behind you.

“Ankhural.” He answered quietly.

Your brows furrowed slightly. “That’s all the way in the mid-rim. Kinda far, don’t you think?”

Din took a moment before replying, the silence hurting your ears. “The pay is worth it. Tracking down some ex-dignitary, I think.”

As he explained, you reasoned with yourself that you weren’t upset. Why would you be? The two of you couldn’t stay on these dusty outer-rim planets forever. This was what you did- go out, collect bounties, get paid. Not a line of work suited for people who liked to stay still for long. Yet the two of you had fallen into a pattern, combing through bounties in the rim together, sometimes even sharing your pay. In its own strange way, it had become almost a partnership, though neither of you would admit that. You both had your routines, and quickly folded into each other’s. Maybe it wasn’t normal, but it gave you a sense of peace.

You hummed and nodded in response, though he couldn’t see it in the dark.

Another lapse of silence passed, much longer than before.

“I’m gonna miss you.” You whispered, tucking his hand with yours into your chest.

He didn’t answer, only breathed deeper into his slumber.

———

The next time you see him is seven months later. The reunion was less than stellar, you giving him the cold shoulder when he had the nerve to saunter into that cantina. Part of you was mad to even see him, another part embarrassed that you were still on the backwater planet while he was off surely having adventures and taking in the galaxy. But more than that, you were heartbroken. It was a feeling you didn’t recognize until about three months in when you realized he probably wasn’t coming back, and you began to mourn things that never were.

Romance was never in the cards for the two of you yet you found yourself weeping for him at night. Weeping because he could be dead for all you knew, and you’d never shared your feelings because you knew he didn’t reciprocate. Because he left without saying goodbye- why would he have? You were hardly even a friend in his eyes, just someone to share the load with, you convinced yourself.

“Thought you were dead.”

You couldn’t even look at the man next to you, instead burying your face into your drink.

He didn’t respond for a moment. “Listen, I-“

“You could’ve gotten in contact with me. Told me you hadn’t been shot dead in an alley somewhere. Anything. But you left me in the dark for seven months.” You kept your eyes down, but the anger was clearly seeping into your tone.

“I’m sorry, I just-“

“Seven. Months.” You interrupted again.

A sigh filtered out through his helmet. Neither of you spoke for a moment, daring the other to make the next move. He chose to speak first again.

“I brought you something,” he said carefully.

You couldn’t help the scoff you let out. You didn’t respond, but you cut your eyes to him for the first time since his arrival. He still wore his old chest plate, and a very small (but admittedly very petty) part of yourself briefly celebrated the fact that he hadn’t made enough to get any more parts of his beskar armor. Was it immature? Yes. Did that stop you? Absolutely not.

In his hands was a small box, plain and unassuming. He shifted it towards you, and you waited a moment before rolling your eyes and deciding you couldn’t handle not knowing what it was.

Inside the box was a small metal pin, just a bit larger than your thumbnail, cut in the shape of one of the flowers native only to your home planet. As you turned it over in your fingers, it caught the dim lights above you, and you instantly recognized the material.

Beskar.

You stared at what you assumed was his eye line, blinking.

“I don’t… I don’t know what to say,” you whispered, barely audible over the chatter of the cantina.

“Can we go somewhere more private? To talk?” He asked, shifting towards you.

You shakily inhaled, nodding. “Yeah… yeah.”

You’d walked silently back to your small apartment, the short journey feeling endless under the weight of his gift and presence. You settled on opposite corners of your bed, fiddling idly with the hem of your shirt while he removed his larger weapons and set them carefully in the corner.

“I’m sorry for leaving for so long.” He said flatly.

You swallowed, nodding as you spoke. “I just… I just thought I, this, meant more to you than that. Maybe not.”

He turned his torso to you. “What do you mean?”

You gave him an exasperated smile. “I mean, you know I care about you. You can’t just fuck off for that long and not expect me to be a little upset.”

Din’s shoulders sagged slightly. You could feel the guilt snaking it’s way through his body and while you were still mad, you also just wanted to hold him.

After sitting silently for a moment, you scooted a little closer on the bed. “I like the gift,” you said softly.

“I know you miss your home. You mentioned it once a while ago.”

A pang shot through your heart; you did miss your home planet, a place you were no longer welcome at after your family disagreed with your lifestyle choices. You’d whispered this sentiment to Din one evening when you were laying in your post-coital states, idly tracing each other’s bodies and sharing stories. You weren’t even sure he was listening- you usually did more of the sharing. He liked to keep himself walled off, even from you, the person he was probably closest to (not that that was saying much.)

“I do. Thank you, it… it means a lot.”

He shifted closer to you now. “I’m gonna stay here for a while,” He started. “Got some repairs to make to the ship. And,” he stretched up to his side and flicked the light switch by the bed, blanketing the room in darkness. When he spoke again, his words were hushed, voice unfiltered, and his mouth was now inches away from your ear.

“I’ve got some apologies to make.”

———

To his credit, Din did stay around for about two months after he returned. It was a growth time for the two of you, you working through these feelings you had and finally becoming okay with the place the two of you were, and him slowly (slowly) opening himself more to you outside of bounties and sex. Things were peaceful again- briefly.

In those seven months he was gone he’d made some connections with a guild, and the pay was beyond handsome for him because he was so good at his job. You almost couldn’t blame him when he left again at the promise of opportunities he simply couldn’t pass up. Almost.

While this time stung a little less, you still found an ache in your chest that you couldn’t seem to escape. Why couldn’t he just stay again? Why did you care so much? Clearly the two of you shared some sort of feelings for each other- feelings you were willing to explore, but he was apparently not.

So to drown your sorrows you’d been picking up any job you could take, and along the way met a couple different people to ease the pain. Kat’aa, a twi’lek woman who loved to dance and made you laugh harder than you ever had, but ultimately you knew the two of you would never work. Tiero, a nice human man that didn’t say much but instead showed his affection with a devilish tongue, who you broke things off with when that was all he wanted to do. There were a few others here and there in the year and some change that passed before you saw Din again, but none of them ever quite filled the hole in your heart.

And because of this, seeing him again only served to reopen the wound.

You took him in, of course; he was injured, badly enough that you weren’t even sure how he managed to fly without passing out. Once you’d gotten him bandaged up as best as you could with only household medical supplies, he collapsed onto your floor with a grunt and you briefly wondered if he had just passed out. But he grabbed your hand, tugging so you came down to him, and you obliged.

No words were spoken that night.

———

After he’d shown up injured, he left again the next morning. You’d maybe spoken five words, and this time instead of heartbreak, you were pissed. Who did he think he was, using you like that? Acting a little selfishly, you threw a tantrum within the walls of your apartment, screaming and throwing things until you were out of breath. You couldn’t help it, you were just so sick of being used like this. How was it fair that you poured so much into him and he only have a fraction back?

He did, however, return only a day later. In fact, upon seeing him you realized he hadn’t even left the planet, just went back to his ship. It was fair, you supposed- this planet wasn’t necessarily unsafe, but definitely not the safest either. You felt a bit silly for your meltdown, but you kept that to yourself.

Even if you wanted to share it with him, you were immediately silenced when he returned with a small, green… thing tucked into his arm.

Though he hadn’t shared much with you, you did know his foundling story, and that they were important to his culture, however you’d be lying if you ever saw him as someone who would take in a child. That’s too much commitment and responsibility- he already has enough on his own plate.

“I’m on a mission to return him to his people.” He’d explained, sitting on the floor with you in the living area. The little green thing, who you simply called ‘the child’, toddled around curiously.

“I found him a few months back, and- hey, don’t touch that.” He interrupted himself calmly to direct the child away from some books you’d collected that were sitting on a shelf in the corner.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the man before you being so parental. The man who you knew as a fierce bounty hunter and an even more fierce lover. Duality of man, you supposed. As you watched him interact with the child you felt your anger melting, albeit against your will. You wanted to be mad at him, scream, give him a piece of your mind, but you couldn’t- not when you watched him carefully feed the youngling before excusing himself to your bedroom to eat his own dinner privately. Something was different about him now.

After knocking to confirm he was safe, you entered the bedroom, settling in behind him on the bed and working your hands into the part of his shoulders that you could reach without armor getting in the way.

“He’s passed out on my couch,” you explained, working at the tension.

Din groaned beneath you. “I’m sorry to intrude with him, but-“

“Shhh,” you interrupted. “We’ll talk later. Right now I just want to make you feel good.”

He shivered beneath you. “Okay,” he muttered.

You took each other apart multiple times that night, any of your previous feelings for him returning tenfold, but you couldn’t care. He put you into such a state of bliss, better than any of your other lovers could’ve dreamed of. He knew you. Inside and out.

He’d even kissed you goodbye that morning, waking you before he left. You didn’t know when you would see him again, but as he left that day, something told you it wouldn’t be long before it was back.

———

He returned several months later, this time no child in tow and a much heavier heart in his chest. Perhaps he was using your sex as a distraction, but you found yourself willingly giving it to him. When you laid in bed that evening, his back pressed to yours, you bit your lip before speaking.

“Do.. do you wanna talk about it?” You asked softly.

“No.”

You sighed. “Okay, just know that I’m here. I’m willing to listen.”

Several minutes of silence covered the room. You closed your eyes, prepared to sleep, when he finally piped up.

“A part of me is missing now.”

Your heart shattered for him. You of all people knew how hard it was for him to allow others in. You were just barely in yourself. And to have that ripped away… you could imagine the feeling, you kept that to yourself though.

You rolled over so your face was pressed between his broad shoulder blades. You wrapped your arms around him, searching for his fingers, and intertwined them.

Maybe none of it was ever supposed to mean anything. You’d been around long enough to know better than to get attached- and yet, you let him back in every single time. He had a magnetic pull on you, one you were helpless against no matter how hard you tried to escape. And a part of you reveled in this- you loved being wanted by him in at least some capacity. Maybe you weren’t supposed to end up together, at least not in the traditional sense. But something about him was addictive, almost a base instinct- and it made you think that maybe, just maybe, things would change eventually.

And so, until then, your door would remain open for him.

——

Feedback and interactions always appreciated &lt;3

Tagging the usual pals! Lmk if you wanna be tagged in any future Din stuff/anything else!

@iamskyereads @wheresarizona @guess-my-next-obsession @grippingbeskar @jedifarmerr @wildemaven @kirsteng42

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin imagine #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian smut #Spotify

[twinpeaksrecord]

creatives and pieces i adore

ᓚᘏᗢ xi ( main ig | youtube | pinterest )

slowly but surely building a platform for herself is art student xi. her work is avant-garde and explores womanhood and sexuality in an intimate, sometimes macabre, fashion. and speaking of fashion! xi's distinctive and eclectic style is influenced by vivienne westwood and the characters of the ai yazawa manga nana, in which one of the main characters shares xi's affinity with the british designer. if you want to see more of her fashion taste you can check out her recent paris haul!

another thing that inspires xi are the philosophies surrounding women, notably their bodies. fascinated by the historical comparisons between women and fertile, digestible organic matter in art (pomegranates, in particular), xi's methods and work draw acute focus on different areas of the body, her abstract interpretations of the power they hold and the sensations she ties with them. a great introduction to her artwork is her video displaying her gcse art projects.

being able to read her ideas and see her work progress is inspiring for me as another young creative!! the process behind her work has provoked a profound way of thinking in myself, which i am grateful for as i'm always looking to explore new perceptions of themes i find present in my own life as well as the lives of others that aren't discussed with the openness they deserve.

ᓚᘏᗢ dakota warren ( ig | youtube )

dakota's debut book on sun swallowing (available here!!) is a collection of poetry and prose about girlhood and gore and the devil and sex and a kind of existentialism that is both entirely nihilistic and wholly hedonistic. it's the first book i've ever written in and annotated and it was a great book for me to start with. dakota is fond of the idea of chaos and pure, unfiltered self-expression. the idea of indulging in your self. it's an accumulation of hair ribbons, religious imagery, love's many hues, the trials and tribulations of relationships all glazed in the blood of pomegranates.

"she has quickly cultivated an online presence that is that of a true artist: giving her followers small glimpses into her life but still maintaining an air of allure and mystery around herself." — kaiya shunyata in dakota warren is your new favourite poet.

ᓚᘏᗢ ethel cain ( @mothercain )

gritty and hazy and elegant. ethel makes the perfect music for running to nowhere in particular. you have energy and pain but you don't know where to put it? ethel cain. dealing with fractured relationships? ethel cain.

released a week ago today is her song american teenager. the southern gothic aesthetics of ethel's music and the nostalgia in the lyrics are paired with an audio that elicits the same emotions of teenhood — a warm-coloured memory for some and a fuzzy reality that is hard to decode for many.

ᓚᘏᗢ mitski's stay soft and working for the knife

blood, sexuality and femininity. y'know the triangle that shows how fires need three things to stay lit? well these three things are the triad of themes found in my favourite media texts. mitski's work, to me, is like a museum that doubles as a theatre but if you push down the handle of one of the seats it lowers into a library. she's a storyteller who isn't afraid to show her humanity.

working for the knife is a cynical tale about aging and persona. it's about "being confronted with a world that doesn’t seem to recognize your humanity, and seeing no way out of it." mitski writes of escaping confined identities that you didn't forge for yourself and putting energy you don't have in places you don't want to go.

stay soft was written about "hurt people finding each other, and using sex to make sense of their pain." while being dark and personal, the sound is grungy with an "inviting dance beat." the music video is aggressive and a little gory — a colourful, abstract visual display of the song.

ᓚᘏᗢ andrea arnold's fish tank (2009)

making your way through life alone can be difficult, but for 15 year old mia, it's the only option. her neglectful mother then meets conor o'reilly. this film hurt but it is one of the most visually stunning and powerful films i've ever seen. it's one of the most accurate insights into lower class teen life in britain, particularly into the life of teen girls. fish tank is equal parts beautiful and disturbing. and i think everyone should watch this film.

"encompasses the rage, confusion, horniness, and passion of being a teenager. this film is uncomfortable, gross, and angry yet manages to become one of the rawest coming of age films i've ever seen." — holli on letterboxd.

#review #art #film #cinematography #fashion #literature #poetry #mitski #ethel cain #dakota warren #fish tank 2009 #xp

[gloryofluv]

The Kink Headcanons No One Asked for But Eff It! The Dateables (NO LUKE)

I think it goes without saying that I'm not going to do Luke for this Headcanon. Period. This is Mature content. Minors, no, just don't.

The Brothers Kinks

Simeon-

Let me explain. This angel is mischievous, naughty, and actually a bit of a rule breaker. There’s nothing timid about this angel at all. There are rules for humans and angels to actually do anything-- one being that the human has to be the one to ask. He likely had been dropping hints for some time (A long time “You can touch me anywhere you like”), but it has to be your call.

Bod-yyyyy worship. Don’t plan on moving or escaping from his soft fluttering kisses and caresses that make you a dribbling mess. He’s going to take his time, and yes, he plans on you devoting all your energy to soaking it up. He’ll likely even run a quill along your back and chest to watch your sensitive flesh jolt with delight.

Hedonism. He wants you to enjoy every second and will have you do so at a slow, agonizingly delicious rate. You will be whimpering and squirming before he even gives into doing more than teasing your skin. Kisses, nips, pure euphoria. The foreplay is this boi’s delight. The unfiltered pleasure he gets to feel radiating from you.

A secret dark kink of his that you’d only unleash in a circumstance of oddity is punishment. Were you not enjoying his slow avenue to pleasure and being impatient? He’s not appreciative of ungrateful behavior and will show you with a couple of swats across your ass. Did that turn you on? Good, then he’ll give you more until you ask for forgiveness, and he can reward his sweet, gentle, loving, human.

“I want you to feel the absolute beauty of pleasure and adoration that I have for you every waking moment.”

Solomon-

If listed, his experience would be longer than most novels. This is a man who enjoys experimenting, trying theory, and experimenting more. Indulgence is very self-serving… until he met you. Now, it’s like he’s having to review everything he ever enjoyed and pinpointing things you both would take pleasure in trying together.

He is quite partial to suspension. Of course, he has an incantation that’s safe and remarkably low impact for you. Trust him; he’s going to make you question if he’s fully human or not. However, if you want to tie him to the bed and ride him, he wouldn’t complain either. Very much a switch and enjoys a change, as long as you don’t try to get sadistic. He’s a tad more top-leaning.

Sensory play. Spells come in handy when you’re tied and blindfolded. One finger tickles, one finger sizzles, and one finger makes you cry for more. Which is which? Who knows but him and he will spend a long period of time just teasing you and watching what makes you all his over and over.

Creampie. Yes, he loves it. He gets such an ego boost from it. Don’t worry the potions you both took before will allow him to do it repeatedly without any mishaps or infections. (It probably had something for him to have huge loads because this man is non-stop). It just is beyond a fetish at that point for him. The object of his desire filled with him and leaking out.

Experimentalist to the end. You’ll never get bored, that’s for sure. He wants to teach you anything you’re curious about and will do so with beautifully detailed instruction. Make a list; he’s ready, baby!

“The beauty of human nature is we have the freedom to evaluate just what brings us the most pleasure. Care to join me on the journey?”

Barbatos-

If you can actually charm this demon out of his clothes… there are rules. He is going to train you to be perfect. Yes, I emphasize the word train. There are standards for living so long and being so selective. This demon is about quality over quantity, so be prepared to learn plenty in a small amount of time.

Don’t be too intimidated, though. He is a sensualist at heart. If you’ve met the marks, he’s an indulger on praise and enjoys his downtime from duties. Being about indulging in such a perfect human. Soft. Malleable. Powerful. Generous.

Ride him. Let him grip your neck as he compliments you on your tenacious and superb pattern and delivery. He enjoys the parameters of control without the explicit order formality that Lucifer does. The rules are set, all you have to obey them, and he can enjoy praising you for it.

Cock worship. He could spend hours with you indulging his appendage with attention. It’s almost like the best form of relaxing for him. Especially if you're whimpering with a pout, if you could have more. It makes him smile and chuckle at the sweetness.

Expect toys, bondage, and edging. He has a powerful tail and patience with skillful fingers. If he’s feeling particularly self-indulgent, welcome to being his stress reliever. He will have you praising the very moon in the sky and him after brutal potent sessions that leave you almost incoherent when speaking because you need to cum. Only when he’s satisfied will he finally take you, and you will be grateful when that moment comes… he’s not just skillful with his hands.

“I’m gratuitous that you would want to spend your precious time with me. Let’s indulge in your limitations, hm?”

Diavolo-

So. You want the top of the heap? Well, who’s he to deny you! Actually, it really works out well because he’s been riding solo to your pictures on Devilgram for years. Sweet, unique, beautiful, desirable human. Yeah, well, he’s definitely not going to complain! There are a couple of things you probably need to know…

Size kink. Unlike Beelzebub, who just enjoys how tiny you are, he’s obsessed with it. So cute and sweet you’d look trying to take all of him in your mouth! Aw, just so hot the way you are so easy to lift, manipulate and twist whichever way he wants. Oh, and he’s strong, so no worries, you’ll be just fine, and he won’t grow tired of it at all.

Only willing to bottom out of fun. Don’t you dare think you’re going to do much but make him beg or tease him. He’s not a masochist and will certainly remind you of his power should you forget. Far more a top leaner. Enjoys being a sensual top.

Daddy kink. He wants to call you prince/princess/your majesty (For my NB Pals out there!) and spoil you with fun and plenty of physical doting. Lots and lots of orgasms. Lots and lots of overstimulation. Overindulgent in anything that makes you a dribbling mess and begging. It’s so cute, and he just gets off on it.

A fine reminder that he’s the prince. Breeding Kink. Now, this one is a fickle kink. He won’t ever do anything you don’t want him to do (Please, just, ya know, take a potion if you can have kids and don’t want them). However, this is ingrained in him. The concept of seeing the object of his affection filled to the brim with him is an instinctual and very intimate act. It’s only because he’s absolutely insane about you that this even spurs him on!

Expect him to take plenty of pictures of you. He’s such a busy demon, and your life is full with the brothers that he cherishes this intimacy so much. He will have a private collection of you in so many different ways and levels of debauchery. That way, if he’s feeling especially lonely for you, he doesn’t have to use your Devilgram anymore. Yes, this boi will still jack it to your pictures. (High libido… get used to it!)

“I’m so captivated by everything you are. I could spend centuries with you and desire your presence just as much as the beautiful moments we share. Let me take the time to show you how much you mean to me.”

#obey me headcanons #mature warning #kinks warning #obey me fandom #om! headcanons #om! hcs #obey me mature #no minors #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo #obey me dateables #om! simeon #om! solomon #om! barbatos #om! diavolo

[haledamage]

Secrets

I call this “in-game dialogue, but with more UST”. also curse you spiders for making dialogue that says the Naut tattoos have different meanings but then making them all identical anyway (if the chin/mouth tattoo indicates whether one is seaborn or seagiven, Vasco and De Sardet should not have the same tattoo there, just saying) so this is just speculation and fun on my part :D this idea’s actually been floating around in my head for a while, but replaying the game made it want to get written down

Nadia/Vasco, based on an in-game conversation option you have after his second quest, no spoilers for anything except that I think. 1200 words of pure, unfiltered self-indulgence 

---

“See something you like?”

Vasco’s dry sarcasm shook Nadia out of her daydreams. With sudden embarrassment, she realized that she’d been staring at him, watching the shadows from the campfire flicker along the sharp angles of his face while she was lost in thought.

“Fishing for compliments, my dear Captain?” she answered playfully, the reply slipping out before she could catch herself. She dropped her eyes to the book in her lap, heat rising in her cheeks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”

“I don’t mind,” he said quietly, the firelight turning his eyes to molten gold. “I’m impressed you’ve held back your curiosity this long. Go ahead and ask your questions.” 

She started to correct him, but changed her mind. It wasn’t the reason she’d been staring, but she’d had a question on the tip of her tongue for months now, and this may be the only opportunity she got to ask it. “What do your tattoos mean?”

“They tell our story.” His expression didn’t change, but his voice did, all the warmth leaving it like it had never been there. She was starting to recognize it as an automatic response to personal questions, though she couldn’t tell if he was just bashful or had some other reason for his sudden reticence. “Of everything we’ve been through.”

It didn’t escape her notice that he said ‘our’ and not ‘my’ but she didn’t call him on it. “Do they hurt?”

“To get them, you mean?” She nodded, but he didn’t see it, his eyes on the fire, the corner of his mouth downturned sullenly. “Yes. Some more than others.”

Vasco clearly didn’t have any intention of elaborating, and it hit her all at once exactly why he was so defensive. She’d heard the kinds of lengths some people would go to to unearth the Nauts’ secrets. It wouldn’t surprise her if some had attempted seduction as a method of doing so, and Nadia had never been shy about her curiosity - about the Nauts, or about her unforthcoming Captain.

Thankfully, that was a misunderstanding that was easy to clear up. She stepped around the campfire to sit down next to him. She waited to see if he would protest her presence, but he didn’t, so she reached up and touched a fingertip to one of the tattoos near the corner of his eye, following the line of it into his hair. “What do these mean?”

“They…” he cleared his throat, all signs of his brooding mood gone and taking with it every ounce of eloquence from the normally well-spoken man, “they designate my rank as Captain.”

She hummed in acknowledgement and moved to the one curving along his cheek. “How did you earn this one?”

“For sailing through a hurricane when I was but a simple sailor.” He finally turned to face her, giving her better access while also letting him study her in turn. The heat of the nearby fire was nothing compared to the one simmering in his eyes.

But Nadia wasn’t so easily distracted. “What about these?” She traced one of the several lines that traveled down past his jaw until it disappeared under his collar. She couldn’t help but wonder how far it went, or if there were others that she couldn’t see, but she managed to keep those questions to herself this time.

“That I…” his voice was decidedly breathier than usual, and she could feel his adam's apple bob when he swallowed as her fingers trailed over it, “I performed several voyages as captain… without losing a single man.”

“And this one?” Her fingers found their way to the whorls of ink on his chin, trying to pay attention to them and not let her eyes stray to his lips.

“Indicates that I’m seagiven.”

She lingered there, following each curve and line around his mouth. “You’ve seen so much,” she murmured wistfully. A captain before he was 25, surviving a hurricane when he was even younger, navigating the voyage to Teer Fradee more than once before they met… how many other things had he done that hadn’t left such a visible mark? “My life must seem terribly boring in comparison to yours.”

“Nadia, of all the words I can think of to describe you, boring is not one of them,” he said with a gentle laugh, and shifted closer, lifting a hand toward her. Even with that warning, she still jumped when he touched her, his fingers tracing over the mark on her jaw in the same way she was doing with his tattoos, following the outline of it. “But that’s not the whole story, is it?”

“No, it isn’t,” she confessed. It was sometimes easy to forget how insightful he could be, how many things he noticed. Vasco kept a lot of secrets, and not all of them were his own. “I’ve always found it intriguing that the Nauts would take such pride in marking their faces when my mark has never brought me anything but trouble.” 

He didn’t say anything to that, but something changed in the way he touched her. His fingers skimming her jaw became less exploratory and more deliberate, as if he were trying to erase the negative associations she had with the mark. Unconsciously, she tilted her head to give him better access.

She started following lines of ink on his face at random, no longer searching for any meaning in them beyond the fact that they were his. “I have to admit, they’re very beautiful. Even more so now that I know the story behind them. Thank you for sharing this with me.” 

Nadia wasn’t talking about the tattoos, and they both knew it. They were ultimately some very pretty art on an altogether much more fascinating canvas.

“Does my entire curriculum really interest you?” There was still a hint of that insecurity in Vasco’s voice, that fear that her curiosity was purely academic--or worse, that she only intended to use him.

“You interest me,” she said plainly. “I want to know more about you.”

“I’m flattered…” and relieved, if his quick, pleased smile was anything to go by, “but there are other ways to do so than questioning me, you know.”

Nadia studied his face, but she couldn’t decipher his expression well enough to tell just how genuine of an offer that was. Vasco had never struck her as the type to play games like that, but he’d also never been quite so direct before either. “I’m open to suggestions,” she said finally. “I may have a few ideas myself.”

This time his smile lingered, even as he pulled back and put some distance between them. She would never get used to how much colder she felt without him close, the chill night air making her shiver.

(Yes, that was the only reason she was shivering. Certainly not because of the way he still looked at her. Certainly not because of the way his hand stayed on her face as long as it could, index finger leaving a trail of heat along the edge of her jaw before finally falling away.)

He turned away from her back to the campfire, but this time his expression was contemplative rather than surly. “Have I sated your curiosity?”

She’d certainly gotten more than she bargained for, in more ways than one. And yet it only made her want to know more. “You’ll find I’m not so easily satisfied. But it’s a start, I suppose.”

#rhi writes #greedfall #nadia de sardet #nadia/vasco #this came about entirely because of that ‘there are other ways to get to know each other’ flirty af line #because that’s where that conversation ends #and there’s NO WAY nadi would let him just walk away after that without calling him on it #plus you know she’ll take any chance she gets to touch him #(I am tempted to do something like this with some of kurt’s later conversations too #but as always kurt and nadia have much more baggage and history to wade through and I just wanted to write something cute)

[shysneeze]

post-training cuddles (oliver wood x f!reader)

Description: After a rainy evenings training, Oliver returns to find a bit of peace with reader 

Warnings: I literally think this is pure fluff but if you find any please let me know and I’ll add them! not very edited, but its self-indulgent af so hwg.

based off a ship I made like an hour ago, my brain literally went ‘you wanna see some real speed shit?’ lmao

.

Its the rest of the team that come streaming in first, the girls, still kitted out and soaked by rain, with faces twisted into scowls that just from looking at them, (Y/N) knows must be warranted. Then, the twins, whispering harshly to one another about ‘turning his stupid hair green’, followed by Harry, eyes half-lidded and taking long, drifting steps towards the dormitory stairs.

(Y/N) winces at the look of them all, placing her book down on her lap and waiting expectantly for Oliver, the undoubtable source of the rest of the teams bad mood.

She hears him sigh before she sees him, an exhausted sound that fills every inch of silence in the room. He appears much like the others, posture sunk tiredly, dirt smeared cheeks and rain-soaked hair. She offers him a sympathetic smile.

“Practice looks like it went well.”

He pauses, blinking in long slow blinks, mouth falling open in surprise at finding her waiting. The common room is unnaturally quiet, with only a few first years tucked in the furthest corners. Then he’s letting out a long breath and starting towards her.

“I’m knackered, Love.”

She chuckles as he drops onto the couch beside her, starting upright before slowly falling to lay his head haphazardly across her lap. Her fingers find his wet hair, tutting softly and pulling her wand out to dry it with a charm.

“From the look on everyone else faces, you all are.”

He lets out a soft groaning sound, twisting briefly to look up at her sheepishly.

“How mad are they?”

“I wouldn’t use your own shampoo for a few days.” She replies, causing another frustrated sigh. “You worked them too hard today...”

“We’re so close to winning.” He insists, sitting upright with a determined look on his face, “We can’t risk falling behind or-”

“You’re going to exhaust yourself then you’ve no chance of winning the cup anyway.” She returns sternly, “And a big chance of being knocked off your broom by your own teammates.”

He sulks for a moment, shoulders dropped and lips sloped into a subtle sort of scowl. Then, after a second of contemplation, he’s expelling an accepting sigh from his lungs and nodding.

“You’re right, Love.” He sighs, running his fingers through his hair, “I just...”

“You’re passionate,” She smiles, “It’s a good thing most of the time but not on a Friday night, when its pouring out and almost everyone would rather be at the Hufflepuff party down stairs.”

“Party?” His brows scrunching into a confused frown, then, realisation flickering across his face, “Oh, now that you mention it... How come you aren’t down there?”

“Well,” (Y/N) starts, glancing to the window where the rain clicks against the panes, creating a soft sort of racket, “I figured you’d come back all soggy and tired... thought I might be able to help.”

His chapped, wind-burnt lips twitch into a grin, and he drops his head this time against her shoulder, leaning in for only a second to kiss her cheek chastely. She rolls her eyes, own lips pulling into a smile.

“Don’t get too smug.”

“Too late.”

“Hmm.” She hums, “At least take your shoes off before you get too cozy, and your jumper, it’s soaking.”

He sighs in agreement, sitting up to pull it over his head and dropping it. It hits the ground with an unsatisfying squelch that causes each of their noises to scrunch in disgust. He kicks his shoes off haphazardly too, then settles himself by her side.

“You smell all fresh-airy,” She muses as he slots his face into the crook of her neck and heaves out a sigh that has his body melting against her own. “Comfortable there?”

“Getting there,” He mumbles.

(Y/N) bites back a laugh at the sudden neediness in his voice. She loves when he gets like this, all soft and sleepy. She lifts her hand to run his fingers through his hair, feeling him hum contently against her skin.

“Will you read to me?”

“You want me to read my book to you... It’s a bit mushy, I’m not sure you’ll like it.”

“I just want to hear your voice.”

“Needy- ah” She yelps at the pinch to her side, “Oi.”

“Please?”

She smiles to herself, picking the book up with her free hand, the other still stroking gently through his hair. She picks up at the beginning of the chapter to give him just a little background, though she doubts he’ll be listening, and begins to read aloud.

With the few remaining first years gone up to their dorm, no doubt to gossip about seeing the Gryffindor Captain so soft, and the others either planning revenge or down stairs at the party, the common room sits empty beyond the pair tangled on the sofa.

The quiet clicking of rain on the window and the crackling of the fire only add to the serenity of it all, a perfect accompaniment to the gentle sound of (Y/N)’s voice that envelopes the couple in a perfect peace.

It’s not long before the breath, blown warm across the skin of (Y/N)’s neck, softens to almost inaudible snores. She stops with a soft smile, sliding the book onto the coffee table and sighing gratefully when Oliver doesn’t stir.

In moments like this, it’s almost impossible to imagine him stern as she knows he is on the pitch, to imagine him capable of producing the scowls and revenge plots of the rest of his team - even if only temporary.

He’s so intense at times, she knows it well enough herself, but it’s passion that does it, determination and love. By the end of the week they’ll be lifting him on their shoulders at a victory party and forgetting all about his ridiculous training scheme.

For now though, she doesn’t need to think about it, he’s not Gryffindor team captain or ‘bloody strict git’, he’s just Oliver, unfiltered and at ease. (Y/N) loves him all year round, the strict and the intense, but most of all on nights like this, when they exist alone for each other, in their own little bit of peace and it’s note long before she finds herself blinking slowly to sleep in his arms.

#oliver wood #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood fluff #oliver wood imagine #oliver wood imagines #harry potter #oliver wood x you #oliver x reader #oliver wood reader insert

[spookyfbi]

what did cody said about klave?

Omg Anon okay so, twitter user umbrellaacademy invited Cody to do a twitter space with them which they did yesterday (8PM Friday EST) and Cody stayed for OVER TWO AND A HALF HOURS answering fan questions and saying SO MANY things about Dave and Klave and I am still so overwhelmed. I have recorded it and I’ve sent the video to the host and they’ve said they’ll release it soon (although the file is massive so I suspect they’ll have a bit of trouble wrangling it like I did so it might take longer). In the meantime, some highlights under the cut:

- Dave’s favourite thing about Klaus is his openness. He’s charismatic because he’s unafraid to be himself. Cody also finds it endearing that Klaus marches to the beat of his own drum.

- He likes the idea that the briefcase brought Klaus to Dave because of fate/destiny. Dave is the missing piece of Klaus, he fills a void in Klaus. He’s as interested as we are to find out if the timeline loops back in season 3

- Dave is soft spoken. There are qualities of Dave that have grounded and soothed Klaus but also Klaus has pulled Dave out of his shell. Klaus’ openness was like an invitation to Dave to open up and be goofy and strange, and this was a vibe Cody got from Robert as well in the bar scene, but then the dynamic shifted later and he felt that Dave was the one who was opening up first.

- Dave would go with Klaus to be with his family. He would want Klaus to take the reigns and would trust Klaus re- what kind of life they could have together post Vietnam. Although there would be no hesitation from Dave about his love for Klaus, there might be hesitation about planning a life together because of the time period they were in. There’s a sense of peace and wanting to settle from Klaus. Cody just basically being solidly on the Klaus bringing Dave back to 2019 to meet his family train.

-  There is a sensitivity and self awareness to Dave, Cody thinks he accepted his sexuality but just was careful about advertising it because of the time period. He also says that his Dave in season 1 didn’t have the experience we saw in season 2 with his uncle and that might have made him more open (I am staring directly at my reverse George McFly theory).

- Dave’s love for Klaus is unconditional, he loves him for exactly who he is. Dave’s unconditional love is a foil for the conditional love Klaus gets from his family. Klaus doesn’t really know what love is and then he gets fired this laser beam of love from Dave.

- Cody that been in a play where his character was in a relationship with a guy but he thinks Rob hadn’t done that before. The director set the tone that the kiss scene was an intimate and tender scene. He feels like there was a reassurance from Dave to Klaus in that moment.

- Dave was holding 4 shot glasses in the scene where he’s holding them with both hands. 

- Cody describing Dave in 4 words - kind, sensitive, empathetic, soft. Dave would describe Klaus as free spirited, open, unfiltered, unexpected (he also put forward chaotic but didn’t stick with it and replaced it with unexpected).

- Dave’s first thought when he woke up and saw Klaus was “Is this a dream... We’re not sleeping much so this could be a dream, I wouldn’t put it past my brain” Also “The dream coming to reality but maybe not necessarily looking like what he thought.”

- He thinks Klaus probably took the dogtags off Dave after he died as a way to remember him rather than them exchanging them

- He wants Klaus and Dave’s storyline to end with love prevailing. He also floats the idea of Dave taking a dark turn and Klaus has to be the redemptive person to bring Dave back.

In preparation for playing Dave he watched the Ken Burns Vietnam War documentary series on Netflix and also looked up online about the Vietnam war. He also listened to music he thought Dave would be into from 1965-1968: He mentions Motown and Stones (Cody said he himself likes Motown)

- Cody’s favourite thing about Dave is the quality of how he loves Klaus. He describes it as pure and unconditional and simple and he talks about he thinks people need to love each other fearlessly - not just romantically but in friendships as well, especially with what’s happening now (and this sort of clarifies to me why he was talking about love over fear so passionately in the clever klaus q&a and what he meant by that)

- Cody is a fantasy nerd

- He would love to see Dave giving Klaus some agency

- He thinks that Klaus has some guilt about Dave’s death

- He would like to play a Commission agent (Commission Dave rights!!)

- Robert is very open and unassuming and funny and it was easy to have an immediate rapport with him. Cody also talked with Tom Hopper (about their mutual friend Bradley James). He also briefly met Colm and Robin and he also remembered he met Aidan (who here had a theory about a deleted scene with Aidan in the attic?)

- He doesn’t know how time works in the afterlife or how Klaus’ power works but Dave would have waited 50 years for Klaus

- Calem joined the space and they said that they hadn't interacted before but they had a bit of a chat. Calem said that his filming in season 2 was 4 days but about 1 month apart. Calem’s internet kept cutting out and then he disappeared.

- If Dave was one of the 43 children his power could be the care bear love blast and he could fire hot beams of love out of the hole in his chest. He would give Dave a more passive power to round out the more active powers the other Hargreeves have, like a healer

- The scene in the tent was filmed at the studio. The scene on the bus was shot outside. The scene in the trench was partly shot outside but some of it was shot in the studio as well (I wonder if he’s confusing that trench scene with the hallucination at the Rave though?)

- He said the scenes were beautifully lit (I beg to differ, Cody!)

- Klaus helped unlock that part of him (I think he means Dave’s sexuality) and he also says that Klaus was a very specific target to Dave’s love. Klaus seems like one in a million. When you love someone there’s something specific about them that pulls that out of you.

- Calem returns! He was in his room where the internet crapped out on him but then he went downstairs. Cody asked what it was like for Calem to come in and play an established character. Calem said he purposely didn’t talk with Cody about the character before playing him because he’d done the audition without knowing anything about the character so he didn’t want to risk doing something too different from what he’d done in the audition, but he did watch season 1. He also said he was a bit anxious about what the audience would think of him playing the character, and Cody went into acting mentor mode and said that he doesn’t think the job is about appeasing the fans but about trying to be as true as possible. He also said that Calem did a good job and he shouldn’t be hard on himself but Calem then said that he quickly got over it and he wasn’t thinking about it on set, just afterwards. Calem mentioned that he creeped Cody’s IMDB and he said that his dad was a camera operator on Lizzie Borden Chronicles this Cody guest starred in an episode of.

- Dave loves music like Cody. He mentioned Four Tops as another band and then Motown again. He thinks the bar scene shows Dave’s love of music but he wasn’t thinking about that at the time.

- Dave would be overstimulated at first if he came to the future because we’re bombarded with a lot more stimulus than in the 60s. The internet and iPhones would blow his mind. He let’s a “we’ll see” slip, which he then quickly corrects to “we would see”

- The kiss in the bar was definitely the first kiss and he thinks it happened a couple months into the tour. He thinks the feelings were mutual quite early, but that it would have taken some time to act on them and to be able to gauge if each other were really giving off the signals that they like each other.

- He’s appreciative of the fan love and he tries to make a connection with everyone he can

- Dave is an optimistic force who thinks that love will prevail so he would have wanted to do something to make it work despite the obstacles they faced

- Cody doesn’t know how close to the vest Klaus kept the stuff about his powers and the time travel etc but he did see Klaus appear so he does know there’s something strange about him. Dave trusted Klaus and even if it wasn’t explicitly talked about there was enough trust to go “wherever you go I’ll follow, wherever that leads.” When Klaus conjures Dave, Dave is excited to see him but isn’t really surprised or put off by any of the circumstances that Klaus is in.

- He thinks that Dave is more the listener of the relationship, but he could certainly see Dave telling Klaus about Dune and Klaus indulging him.

- Rob is very genuine, very unassuming, very immediately open, very funny, definitely puts you at ease, incredibly thoughtful, very considerate, good dude (wow it’s the complimenting Rob speed run! 8 in a row!)

- The aspect of Dave that Cody connects to most is his non-judgemental quality

- Dave would connect with Vanya’s softness and Luther’s moral compass (he said Diego’s moral compass in the cleverklaus q&a so not sure if he just mixed them up). He thinks Dave might be a bit too sincere for Five and Ben would appreciate being able to unload Klaus on Dave.

- He thinks Dave is not a tattoo guy but Klaus is impulsive so getting a tattoo really aligns with his personality. He thinks that Dave’s actions speak louder than words written on him

- He connects to the fractured family theme of the show on a personal level

- Dave being jewish was something he only learned about through looking at the dogtags, it wasn’t in the script or anything

- Dave might have studied Philosophy if he’d gone to college instead of joining the military, he feels like there’s a dreamer quality to Dave

- Even though Dave was pressured into joining the military, he thinks that Dave believed he was going the right thing by enlisting

- Colm is a Canadian Hall of Fame actor and Reginald is such an intense character so Cody would love to do a scene with him. He would also love to do a scene with Elliot.

- Cody remembered waiting on set to film the scene in the club and he, Rob and Tom were in an 80s hotel with a heart shaped jacuzzi (??? oh was this the set with the Handler and Agnes maybe?)

#the umbrella academy #dave katz #klave #cody ray thompson

[hardskz]

a penny for your thoughts.

pairing — han jisung x female! reader

genre — trope inversion of the soulmate au, college au, enemies to lovers, angst and fluff-ish, smut; oral, possessiveness kink, praise kink, safe word, size kink, first time

synopsis — life isn’t easy when you belong to the 1% of the world population that has a soulmate, know who your soulmate is and happen to be utterly in love with said soulmate’s best friend. alternatively, jisung can hear all of your unfiltered thoughts and has heard enough of your horny fantasies to the point where he wants to throw up, so he takes matters in his own hands. 

note — i think i’m gonna cry this work is my 11k word BABY i’ve never been THIS invested over a fic. this is purely self-indulgent and an emotional rollercoaster ride if you ask me. this fic is all over the place it’s chaotic and i apologize in advance for many italics you are welcome i hope you CRY and SUFFER with me because completing this bitch was a midlife crisis in itself. that being said, i appreciate any form of constructive criticism so pls go ahead and rip my baby apart sdkjl

“You’re staring again,” Hyunjin notes. Seungmin and Jeongin stifle a burst of laughter while Felix, whose head is resting on Hyunjin’s lap, sends you a look that resembles Candace from Phineas and Ferb whenever she finds her brothers creating some whacky futuristic shit, laughs like a madman and then resumes to call her mother with an ear-splitting MOOOM! because she’s so certain that her brothers are busted this time.

“Am not,” you huff as you tear your eyes away from the guy just sitting a little bit farther away from you, basking in the warm glow of the sun. Today he’s sitting in the perfect angle, giving you the best view on his side profile. His signature cap is perched right on top of his head but even then, you can see how his eyes brighten up and how the corners of his lips tug upwards as he laughs at his friend’s joke.

“You’re a worse case than the Mary Sue protagonist of every romance anime ever.” Seungmin snorts before he playfully nudges your side with his shoe. “Just say you want Seo Changbin to bang you and go.”

“Hey! We have a child present!” Hyunjin chastises, to which Jeongin rolls his eyes.

“I’m not a child. We’re all in fucking college.”

“Fine, not a child then. The baby has been corrupted! Don’t swear, it sounds so wrong coming from you!”

“Shut up. It’s called freedom of speech!”

“It’s ‘shut up Hyung’ to you!”

Felix groans in distress and is probably rethinking his life choices. Seriously, what does Felix, resident hopeless romantic, see in Hyunjin? Sure, he’s good-looking and a great friend when he’s not bitching around or hovering over the nearest trash can after taking too many shots. But a romantic? Please, Hyunjin can’t even eat without making a mess out of his shirt.

“I don’t want him to bang me,” you mutter and receive a collective ‘yeah sure’ look. “Fine, I don’t want him to bang me only. He’s nice,” you retort before your eyes flit back to him for a millisecond. By now, Changbin has put his hands on the grass and is leaning back, enjoying the sunlight while listening halfheartedly to the other guy blabbering.

“And hot. We get it. Now get dicked,” Seungmin deadpans, earning flabbergasted looks from everyone and a smack from Hyunjin.

“Show a little more empathy, you dickwad. She’s whipped.”

“Anyway—“ Felix sits up, earning a pout from Hyunjin but he blatantly ignores it, and directs the conversation back to the previous topic before the other two bump heads, “(y/n), you have his number. You’re not strangers, so why don’t you just make a move?”

You glance at him with horror in your eyes. “What do you expect me to do? Ring him up and ask him to hang out with me because I find him cute?”

“Uh, duh? Last time I checked, that’s how you ask someone out.”

“Absolutely not.”

“New idea.” Seungmin butts in. “Why don’t you ask Han Jisung—“

“No.”

“Agreed.” Hyunjin shoots you a nod of approval before Seungmin can start yet another interrogation about your bitter hatred towards Jisung. Jisung, who happens to be said friend of Changbin that is laughing beside him right now. “He must think he’s so much better than us because he’s hanging out with the senior geniuses of the music production major. Then again, Seo Changbin and Bang Chan are on a different level than us commoners.”

“Speaking of Chan,” you quickly say to steer the conversation away from the personification of everything you hate. “Where is he? It’s so weird seeing the trio incomplete.”

This time, Jeongin chimes in. “Haven’t you heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Chan and that one language major — you know, the one who collapsed a while back?” When all he’s met with are clueless faces, Jeongin sighs. “Seriously, you guys should keep up with campus news. I swear, everyone and their mothers already know by now. But anyway, they’re soulmates. It’s also the reason why Chan has been pulled out of the boxing team until the end of the semester and had to cancel their training camp as soon as she broke down.”

Felix does a double-take. “But Chan’s the ace of the boxing club!”

“It is what it is.” Jeongin stretches his legs out, shrugging. “What else is to expect when you have the proximity link and need to be around your soulmate within a certain distance unless you want death?”

“Poor guy. Must be a smack in the face for him, now that he’s got a soulmate and happens to have the worst link one could have.” Seungmin says.

“The tattoos are worse though.” Hyunjin fires back. “I mean, you’re literally born with a tattoo of your soulmate’s name and then grow up knowing that you have one? And even if you never meet them, you won’t have better chances with others if you want some romance. Who in their right mind wants to have a lover who’s got someone else’s name tattooed on them since birth?”

“No one.” You chuckle. “Absolutely no one.”

In another lifetime, another universe, you and Jisung would probably be on better terms. He’s sunshine on legs and looks decent from an objective point of view.

In another lifetime, another universe, you’d like to believe you’re childhood friends and have been neighbors ever since your first shit in your diapers. Perhaps you would be clowned from being inseparable once in a while, but you’d go with it and then shrug it off as if it was nothing.

In another lifetime, another universe, you’d like to believe that being soulmates doesn’t equal the downfall of two people. Sure, the fact that people are bound to each other and the danger of growing too dependent on that person remains, but it probably won’t be so frowned upon. Probably. Hopefully.

However, as much as you want to twist it, another lifetime is not this lifetime, the reality.

In reality, you and Jisung are only neighbors because the universe has some kind of inexplicable hatred towards you. Seriously, you must’ve done something wrong in your previous life to be punished in this one. And because the universe has sadistic tendencies and loves to make you suffer, the laws of the universe are just as equally fucked up.

The concept of soulmates is a lot of things, but most of all, it’s a mystery. There are endless possibilities for soulmate links, not all of them discovered. And unlike popular belief, soulmates do not have to necessarily share the same link. So voilà, even more fuckery from the universe.

There’s only one reason that justifies your wholehearted, unfiltered hatred towards Han Jisung. Well, only one reason that seems justified in this lifetime.

The tattoo is simple; just fine black characters under your collarbone that are nicely hidden under high-cut shirts.

But the fact that it’s his name tattooed on you since birth remains.

“Let me crash here for the night.”

“No.”

“Let me crash here for the night, please.”

“My answer is still no.”

The exasperation is plastered on Jisung’s face as he tries to keep his temper in check. Truth be told, it’s damn satisfying seeing him wanting to rip your head off but refraining to do so. Perhaps you’re enjoying this more than you expected at one o’clock in the morning. For the past five minutes, Jisung has been asking you to let him stay over for the night. You’d save him out of his misery and help a neighbor out who locked himself out of his apartment at this hour — well, if he wasn’t Han Jisung.

By now, he’s growing more impatient with every further rejection. “Oh come on, all my friends live on the other side of town and you can’t expect me to ask the old grandma next door! At this rate, I’m gonna freeze to death overnight!”

“Then go break a window or something,” you deadpan, ignoring the dramatic hand gestures he’s making to accentuate his words.

“The fuck? I’m not going to break into my own place.”

Not wanting to draw out the pointless conversation any longer, you’re about to slam the door shut when he blocks your action with his foot. “C’mon, just this one night. Please.”

He’s not budging anytime soon. His bullheadedness reminds you of Seungmin, who always tries to get Hyunjin wasted whenever you attend those Greek frat parties. Seungmin, who always succeeds in getting Hyunjin wasted, followed by Hyunjin hugging a bucket for the next few hours as he tries to get over the hangover. With a defeated sigh, you gesture Jisung to come inside and don’t wait for him until he’s taken his shoes off at the entryway.

“Look, I know you don’t like me—“

“Well, ‘don’t like’ is putting it very lightly—” you scoff once he’s caught up to you in the living room. It’s not exactly spacious; the couch takes up most of the room and college assignments are spread all over the minuscule coffee table.

“You could at least treat me like a decent human being.”

That statement is enough to get your ears flaming. You whip your head in his direction, voice getting louder. “How can I when your existence is making my life worse than it already is! And I mean it literally! Just seeing your name whenever I look at myself through the mirror sickens me!”

“Stop acting like you’re the only victim here.” Jisung snaps back in the same manner. If there was a little bit of etiquette in the first place, it has all vanished now. “I’m not having it easier when all I hear from you is the dozen ways you want Changbin to fuck you dumb!”

You freeze.

“Cat got your tongue? It’s already bad enough that you have those kinds of thoughts about my best friend every single day.”

“But I thought— y-you had the proximity link?!” This has to be a joke. A very bad one at that. His proximity link is the very sole reason why you lived next to him. His soulmate link is the only reason why you’ve been stuck together like glue since you could walk.

Jisung taps his foot impatiently, running his hand through his hair. “That’s what I thought too until I started hearing things that nobody said around me. First, it was just a few thoughts every other day, but now you’re like an annoying radio that I can’t switch off.”

“Why didn’t you tell me then? I would’ve—“

“Stopped fantasizing about Changbin’s dick? And then you would’ve jumped to the next person. I don’t care if you like him or not, it’s none of my business. Changbin’s hot, anyone with eyes can tell. Besides, it’s not like you have a chance anyway…”

You feel your blood boiling at his underlying message and cross your arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jisung doesn’t bat an eyelash and says in a mocking tone as if stating the obvious. “No doubt that Changbin will make you feel good. But could you return the favor?”

That’s a low blow. Even for Jisung, that’s a low blow.

“I get that you’ve got a dirty mind. But those are just fantasies. Could you really execute them just the way you had in your head? You don’t even have experience in the first place.”

“If I sucked you off right now, you wouldn’t even be able to speak properly!” God knows what went over you when you countered. At this point, rage has taken over your brain and you don’t even realize what you just said right away. Not that it matters anyway; all you see is red.

Jisung just raises a brow, clearly unimpressed by your outburst. “Prove it,” he challenges casually and then flops himself onto the couch, legs spread wide. It’s an open invitation. “Go ahead, make me see reason with your oh so mind-blowing skills.”

The only thing you’re able to do physically is gape at him. He is joking, right? As if he actually means it—

“I knew it. Shameless in your head but too flustered to say it out loud, let alone following up with your bold statements.”

That seals the deal. You’re fuelled by anger and the desire to prove him wrong as you drop on your knees and are on eye level with his crotch. However, your spirit dissolves the longer you silently stare and realize that you have no fucking clue on what to do. Jisung is painfully aware of that too.

“I’m more terrified than turned on seeing your angry face.” He lets out an exasperated sigh before he pulls you up and directs you to sit on his lap. “Obviously it’s not working when neither of us is in the mood. You gotta get in the mood first,” he mutters, hands settling on your hips.

The look in his eyes is more composed now, but you can tell he’s being observant. As if you have clues written all over your face, he keeps you under his stern gaze. Then his eyes droop lower to your lips and he slowly leans forward.

Not even a second later, you firmly plant your hands on his shoulder and push him back. “No lips.”

If Jisung is judgemental about your sudden stunt, he doesn’t comment on it. “Anything else, your royal majesty?”

You’re too tired to react to his mockery and roll your eyes. “No marks.”

“I can work with that,” he mumbles more to himself rather to you. Then he leans forward again and buries his face in the crook of your neck. Surprised by his actions and new to the unfamiliar sensation, you tense up. Jisung seems to take notice of that too.

“Relax,” he orders, rubbing circles on your hips to help you loosen up.

Well, that’s easier said than done. It’s already bad enough that you’re gradually exposing yourself as the complete amateur you are, and out of all people who could’ve been the first to do any form of sexual advances on you, it just had to be Jisung. Perhaps you shouldn’t have rejected that one kid in high school who was the only one who ever had a crush on you. Even if that kid wasn’t your type and not a serious commitment anyway, maybe you would’ve at least some sort of experience with dick.

“A-ah—“ your breath hitches when he nips on the patch below your earlobe. He smiles against your skin as if he just made some scientific discovery and swipes his tongue on the same spot, eager to make you squirm. Not wanting to slip up anymore, you clamp your mouth shut with a hand.

“Let me hear you, baby. Just relax, I got you.” When the fuck did his voice start to sound lower and raspier? Where did ‘baby’ come from? All rationality and resistance leave your body when he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him.

The cologne of musk lingers strong on him, almost intoxicating even, and you can’t form a cohesive thought anymore. The only things you are painfully aware of are an arm forcing your chest flush against his and his hot breath all over your neck.

You’re so far gone that you fail to notice that you’ve started grinding on his lap. Jisung moans softly into your neck as he encourages you to move with his hands.

“On your knees, baby,” he whispers after a while. A rush of disappointment runs through your veins once he detaches his lips from you and slides you off his lap, but all of that is forgotten once you see the prominent bulge in his pants.

Right. There’s a reason why you ended up in this predicament in the first place.

Jisung urges you to touch him with a simple nudge. “C’mon, baby. Take it off.”

You don’t waste time discarding his sweatpants. Just when you’re about to tug his underwear off, you notice the wet patch on the fabric. A surge of mischief washes over you as you boldly cupped his hard-on over his boxers, causing an obscenely loud moan from him.

He flinches, definitely not expecting that brashness from you, and throws his head back. “S-stop teasing me already and take that goddamn thing off or God help me what I’m going to do if you push my buttons.”

That. That was a threat. That dealt much more damage to you than you like to admit.

As much as you want to watch him break and see if he’d make his threats come true, you decide against your feelings and hook your fingers under the waistband and tug the fabric down in one swift motion. A groan leaves Jisung as his cock, fully hard and leaking precum, is exposed to the cold air. He’s certainly above average; on the longer side probably, and you’re conflicted on whether to think fuck, I want him in my mouth right now or fuck, how on earth is that supposed to fit into my mouth?!

You don’t get far with your inner conflict when a hand grabs a fistful of your hair and slowly urges you closer. The next thing you know, something is tapping your lips and before you fully register it, the tip of Jisung’s cock lies heavy on your tongue.

You carefully look up and meet Jisung’s hooded eyes. His shirt has ridden up a bit and flashes just a little bit of his toned stomach. That’s just enough of an indicator to see that Jisung is holding himself back, in case his irregular breathing hasn’t been a dead giveaway.

Jisung opens his mouth, about to say something, when you give an experimental suck on his dick. “Do something— f-fuck, a little more, baby.”

That’s enough to build your confidence up. You slowly take in more of his dick, sucking carefully and making sure to cover your teeth. The rest that doesn’t fit in your mouth is barely covered with your hands, and you messily try to coordinate your hands, switching between rubbing the base of his dick to cupping his balls.

“Mmh, use more pressure,” Jisung whispers, not trusting the stability of his voice when you fondle with his balls. A groan leaves him when you suck harder on his cock and switch back to swirling your tongue around. For a total beginner, you are holding yourself up better than he expected. Fuck.

“Focus on the tip fir— hhh- aa-ah...” His brain blacks out for a moment when you swirl your tongue around his tip and dare an experimental hum, the vibrations going straight down to his dick. The grip on your hair loosens, but it’s still firm enough to experience a sharp tug. “You’re doing good baby. So good.”

The combination of his sounds, the decent taste of precum on your tongue and the way his adam’s apple bops is enough to send you into sensory overload. You notice the way Jisung tenses his thighs, as to keep them still. You’re about to pull out completely to prevent your drool from getting on your face. However, before you get the chance to complain, he forces his length back on you that it grazes the back of your throat, nearly making you choke.

“Fuck, I— I’m gonna— s-soon—“ he hisses and you take it as a sign to speed up. At this point, your jaw hurts and a mixture of drool and precum drips down your chin. It’s borderline disgusting if you think about it, but the delectable sounds leaving Jisung compensates for it.

He sharply tugs on your hair, ordering you to pull off, but you slap his hand away. “I’m going to spill in your mouth if you don’t pull off right now—“ Jisung chokes on his words when you interrupt him with a hum as if to say so what? It doesn’t help that you’re looking up at him with teary eyes and a lot of conviction, even though you’re visibly struggling to keep half of his dick in your mouth.

When he cums, it’s accompanied but drawn out moans, and you forcing yourself to swallow the horrible texture. It’s not horrible per se, but you’d gladly refuse to swallow a second time if you were given the choice.

Jisung looks down at you with flushed cheeks and is about to wipe off the drool or cum or whatever liquid is staining your bottom lip, but you quickly block his hand. “I’ll clean up by myself.”

For a minuscule second, he looks defeated; he looks borderline disappointed, but before you can pinpoint his feelings for sure, his expression changes. “But what about you?” he asks, eyes raking down your body and stopping at the waistband of your pants.

“I’ll deal with it on my own.” You shrug, avoiding his eyes. All of sudden, you find it hard to breathe in the room as the realization settles into your brain. You just sucked off Jisung. Jisung, out of all fucking people.

“You sure?” Your eyes flit to him who looks like he’s been observing you the entire time. His breathing has calmed down, his lips look a little bit plumper than before and his hair sticks out in all different directions. Looking at his current state makes you feel sick, and your undying hatred for him starts growing again. It’s your fault that he looks so fucked out and—

Why the fuck did you even do that?

“Yes. Now stop asking before I change my mind and kick you out.”

Before he can have the last word, you turn on your heels and rush into your bedroom, ignoring the fact that your underwear is practically drenched.

You wake up to the smell of pancakes emerging from the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making breakfast?” Jisung throws you a questioning look and then plates the last batch of pancakes from the pan. “It’s the least I can do after you were friendly enough to let me crash on the couch.”

Your eyes wander to the countertop to the two plates stacked with pancakes. Jisung finishes up the second plate and hands it out to you.

You stare dumbly at the plate. It’s too early for your brain to mouth filter to work, so the first thing you spit out is, “How do I know you didn’t poison it?”

“Are you fucking serious—“ Jisung squeezes his eyes shut, mutters something inaudible under his breath before he puts on the fakest smile he can muster. “I can take a bite if you really insist.”

“Give me that plate.” You point to the other plate on the counter. Presentation-wise, it looks the same as the one Jisung is offering you, minus the visible steam.

“There. Wanna switch again or can I finally eat?” he scoffs when you walk past him to get cutlery and sit at the dining table; it’s essentially a round wooden table where one of the legs is about to break. Two plates and a pitcher at most take up the entire surface. You really should consider buying a new table, but you have better things to spend on rather than that.

From your peripheral vision, you see Jisung rolling his eyes. Perhaps you were making an entire unnecessary circus, critically cutting through the pancake and inspecting each and every side before stuffing it in your mouth. But again, in your defense, it’s too early in the morning to show basic etiquette towards him out of all people.

You have to admit that visually, the pancakes look good. What you didn’t expect were the pancakes to taste just how they look. It looks like you couldn’t contain your surprise in you, judging by the amused smirk that finds its way onto Jisung’s face as he claims the chair across from you.

“As if you could actually cook,” you splutter because there’s no fucking way you are giving him that satisfaction of the day.

However, it seems to bemuse him even more. “You literally eat this every day and know the recipe by heart. With the excessive number of times you recite the ingredients a day, obviously, something got stuck in my brain,” he explains while cutting through his own portion.

The rest of breakfast is spent in silence. You both finish at the same time and while you’re washing the dishes, he’s stayed put in the chair, mindlessly checking something on his phone.

“You didn’t have to cook, you know. You could’ve just left.” you start. It’s already awkward enough that he’s still here. Bloody hell, you should’ve just waited with the plates and ushered him out of your place instead of just getting away as fast as possible from the table. Now that you think about it, this was probably the only time you two were somewhat amicable at such proximity. (Even if you didn’t talk at all. Still, it’s progress.)

He drops his phone on the table with a soft ‘bang’. “It’s the least I could do. Besides, I was starving too.”

“In other words, you’re taking advantage of my fridge?”

“Exactly.”

Just as you’re drying your hands, he’s about to leave. “I’ll get going, lecture’s starting in a few. And, uh, thanks for letting me stay here.”

You just shoot him a weird look. “You already thanked me once. How often do you wanna repeat yourself?”

Jisung rolls his eyes. “Fine, next time I’ll just leave without a word then.”

It’s when he’s finally out of the door that his last words sink in.

“Yo, I have pics of sweaty Changbin in a jersey. How much do you wanna pay for those gems?”

You nearly choke on air. “What the fuck?” Really, that’s the only appropriate reaction.

“Hyunjin, this needs more context.” Felix looks like he’s seriously second-guessing his taste in men before shaking it off with a sigh and elaborates. “He’s been trying to find out some scoop about Chan for the campus blog and caught him in his angry boxer mode and Changbin was also there assisting him. Hey, did you know that Chan doesn’t tape his hands before punching the bag? Fuck, that’s so intimidating but so hot at the same time—“

“Yah! I’m your boyfriend! How can you say that in front of me?!”

Changbin. Changbin in a jersey. Changbin in a jersey and drenched in sweat. And Hyunjin seriously has HQ pictures of that Changbin.

It really, absolutely shouldn’t have been the first thing that crossed your mind, but the idea of that Changbin — bonus if he still has anger pent up in him — barging into your place and instantly throwing you on the bed—

“I’m not a perverted creep who’s gonna buy pictures of him that he doesn’t even know exist. Besides, isn’t that a violation of his rights? He never consented to those pics. This is college, you’re only working for the campus blog, not fucking Dispatch.” you deadpan.

“So you don’t even want to take a sneak peek at a picture?”

“No.”

You barely stepped a foot into your apartment when Jisung storms out of his own place and stops in front of you. “You fucking liar.”

“Excuse me? What the— hmph!”

The next thing you know, Jisung forces his way into your hallway, slams the door shut and crowds you against it. His face is invading your personal space, eyes enraged and jaw locked. Even though his anger is far from justified as you haven’t glanced at him ever since he stayed over, a tiny part of you believes that you pissed him off for good. It's not the first time you witness him angry. However, it's the first time you witness him look as if someone murdered his family and was trying to get revenge.

“I thought you took care of it yourself!”

“Took care of what?”

“Did you already forget that I can read your mind?!”

You scrunch your nose, trying to connect the dots in his words. It doesn't take long for you to realize that there’s no point in trying. A frustrated groan leaves you. “Why are you getting so riled up? I just breathed and you stormed into my place!”

“‘Bullshit. You weren’t just breathing,” he snaps, and you flinch when his hand lands a few inches beside your face with a loud pang. “You were thinking of Changbin again! And I mean that in the thousand sex positions and locations you want him to bang you kind of thinking! And also—“

“Also what?”

“I know you’ve been pent up for days. Seriously, why don’t you just get off like every other sane human being?”

His brutal delivery leaves you flabbergasted. How the fuck does he know that? No. No. No. He doesn’t know. He can’t. Just because he can read your mind doesn’t mean that you didn’t pleasure yourself after giving him that blowjob. Jisung’s probably bluffing — he has to be bluffing.

“W-why should I answer you?” you stutter. Suddenly the walls look much more interesting. When was the last time you painted the walls? Maybe it’s time to switch things up—

“Are you really about to get all cocky with me? Give me a break.” Jisung chews on his bottom lip after little deliberation. “You wanna know why? Because one of my best friends is going through a hard time that can utterly destroy his entire future thanks to the fucking universe! If that isn’t stressful as it is, I also see and hear all kinds of things you want Changbin to do to you. And your fantasies are also affecting me.”

You stare at him as if he sprouted eight new legs. “So you’ve also been…?”

“Sexually frustrated? Fuck yes. And it’s all your fault. So take responsibility and do something against it before I do.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“So what if I am?”

A cold shiver runs down your spine once you meet his stone-cold gaze. Frustration is displayed all over his features, from his labored breaths to the raised brow. He’s not playing mind games this time, he’s actually frustrated.

There are a billion red flags, a billion blinking signs saying NO DON’T YOU EVEN THINK OF DOING THIS! DON’T BE A FUCKING IDIOT in your mind. There are so many countless reasons why you should listen to your head, but the way Jisung is lusting after you is terrifyingly attractive.

You don’t trust your voice to respond verbally. Instead, you look down at your trembling hand and tug at the hem of his shirt. It’s just then when you also realize that your thighs are clenched. Fuck.

Jisung takes the hint. In the blink of an eye, he’s yanking you to your room, kicks the door shut with a loud ‘thud’, and manhandles you on the bed. You’re too stunned to react, and gulp when he hovers over you and strips off his jacket, leaving him in a white shirt that doesn’t hide his toned arms.

“Use the color system, alright? Green when everything is alright, yellow when you want me to slow down, and red when you want me to stop for good?” he asks.

“I know what the color system is,” you mutter, tearing your eyes away from him.

“That’s not an answer to my question.” he presses.

“Fine, color system it is. There! Happy? Now get on with it—“

Jisung pins your wrists above your head vigorously. “You don’t call the shots here. I do.”

Your stomach swoops. You really should’ve listened to your brain. This Jisung isn’t comparable with the Jisung you sucked off a few days ago. That Jisung was cocky — he’s always cocky, what are you even saying — but he still gave you room to breathe. This Jisung is downright scary.

“Good thing for you, I know exactly what you want me to do—” he starts sinisterly as his thigh settles firmly between your legs, pressing up against your clothed core. You suddenly regret wearing a skirt. “—and trust me baby, even if I couldn’t read your mind, I would do all those things because that’s what I plan on doing to you regardless.”

The look he gives you should be illegal. He shouldn’t be in the position to look down at you, as if he’s the king and has free reign over the consequences you are about to bear. Your head suddenly feels dizzy, and it’s way too hot in the room. It’s as if your bedroom has morphed into some vacuum as you’re desperately trying to breathe. Your system ceases to function once he presses his thigh even harder on your cunt, and all you manage to make is a pathetic whimper.

A menacing grin makes its way to his face. He’s clearly thriving on this ego-boost and continues to grind his thigh on you until your hips start to sway along. It seems like you found your voice again once he leans down and nibbles on your neck. Your moans are barely audible at first, but they slowly turn into drawn out mewls and labored breaths.

Your eyes snap open when he suddenly retreats his thigh and holds your hip in a vice grip, stopping you from moving. “W-what the fuck? Why did you stop?”

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Huh?” You squint at him. “But you can read my mind!”

“I want you to say it out loud.”

There’s no way in the universe that you’ll do that. You’ll gladly wipe off that shit-eating grin out of his face whether he likes it or not, but with his hold on your wrists, that is deemed impossible.

You should say something out loud though. Yellow. That would save you from the humiliation. You could regain at least an ounce of control, not feel so pathetic anymore. It’s a simple word, just two syllables, six letters. The tables can be turned to your advantage. It’s easy.

You don’t.

“You’re embarrassed, aren’t you? You can’t say all those filthy thoughts in your head out loud because you’re ashamed, huh? Not when you love feeling so powerless, subject to anything I do to you. Face it baby, just admit that you’re a needy little bitch who wants to get off on my fingers so bad, and I’ll give you what you want,” Jisung growls in between hot, wet kisses he leaves on your neck.

“I—“ you whimper after some difficulties, “I’m your needy little bitch w-who wants to get off on your fingers.”

Jisung’s head pipes up, his face just hovering a couple of inches away from yours. With that little distance between you, you know it’s not a trick of the light and that his eyes are blown up with hunger, hunger, and more hunger. "Not just any bitch, but mine? Do you like it when I call you mine?"

You nod. From there on, it’s a chain reaction.

He wastes no time slipping his fingers past your panties, mindlessly trailing along your folds. You throw your head back in pleasure, bucking your hips into his touch. A cry leaves you the moment he slips a finger inside you, his thumb simultaneously flicking your clit. It’s sensory overload, rendering your rationality to a standstill.

Your utter downfall is marked once Jisung adds a second finger, never slowing down. He groans at the way you clench around him like a maniac, and the sounds he makes send jolts all over your body. You’re writhing under his grasp at this point, overstimulated by everything yet at the same time, you feel your arousal slowly fading.

“Does my baby feel good? Are you close?” Jisung asks, nipping on your earlobe.

“I don’t know,” you whisper.

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t know’?”

The pit in your stomach grows. You’ve never experienced claustrophobia, but right now, it’s like everything’s suffocating you. “A-as in I don’t fucking know!” you exclaim shakily.

Jisung stops his movements. The weight on your wrists is lifted, and he looks at you, face unreadable. “(y/n), color. What’s your color?”

“Green. It’s just...” your trail off, avoiding his eyes.

“Just...?”

“I’ve never come before,” you confess in defeat. You really can’t believe that Jisung out of all people is the one to make the call of judgment. “I mean it! I’ve tried getting myself off but I never managed to... so cut me some fucking slack because I’m trying my best here and am still new to everything!”

Jisung stays silent. He stares at you in… confusion? disbelief? You really have no clue how to read his expression. Something negative for sure, though. He’s Satan’s spawn, for fuck’s sake. He’s probably thinking twice about going down on you, thinking about the gravity of a mistake he’s dealing with this time. He just has no clue how to articulate his irritation—

“You’re so cute, fucking hell,” he whispers.

You do a double-take. What? What did he say?

A small chuckle escapes his lips. As if he doesn’t mind. Wait. He doesn’t mind. “I’ll take good care of you. Trust me on this,” he says.

“That’s a little late coming from you, your fingers are literally up my vagi— h-ha-aah—“

“Just shut up and let me do the work.” Jisung rolls his eyes as he works you up again, fingers moving at a slower pace this time. Within minutes, he’s reduced you into a panting, stuttering mess. “You look so tiny and helpless underneath me. How adorable,” he coos, to which you just whine.

“Yeah? You like it when I call you tiny? Like it when your tight cunt already feels stuffed with just two fingers? Maybe we should stretch it to a third one, think you can handle that?” he presses on. That’s when he rams his fingers into a particular spot, making you arch your back. A knowing smile makes its way onto his lips. “Found it.”

“N-no, fuck— t-too much—” you babble, but he continues to abuse your sweet spot without remorse.

An unfamiliar pressure builds up in your abdomen, threatening to burst. Your whines grow louder, breaths shallower. You squeeze your eyes shut as you thrust your hips into his hand, desperate for more friction. “Jisung, I think I’m gonna—”

“Oh no, not like this,” he growls. “Keep your eyes open. I want you to look at me when you cum. So you’ll remember that it was me who made you cum for the first time. It’s me who’s making you feel good.”

That is easier said than done. You manage to open your eyes, though with a lot of difficulties. Scratch that, your eyes are barely open. Jisung is a blurry image, and you’re unable to register everything he says, the sound of his fingers squelching in your heat blaring in your ears.

You deem it fucking impossible to keep your eyes open when your orgasm hits you hard, body spasming from the sensation. But you keep on trying, keep forcing to set your eyes on him.

It’s all worth it though when the reward you get is a proud smile on his face, as well as streams of praises coming from his mouth.

It’s a continuous pattern that goes as follows:

1. You spend your days glued to your friends.

2. At least one of them (usually, it’s Seungmin) preaches how you should get your shit together and ask Changbin out.

3. Somehow, Changbin manages to leave a strong presence in your fantasies and you end up daydreaming about a scenario that stars him, you and a bed (if you’re feeling more daring, any other kind of surface or object he could pound you into.)

4. Jisung notices and forces the horniness out of your system.

5. You tell yourself that it’s the last time Jisung has such control over you.

And then the cycle repeats.

But here’s the thing: you find yourself doing no. 5 you with less conviction the more it happens. No. 5 is a formality at this point. You don’t know when you went the wrong path, but are you really in a position to complain? Jisung is good with you, he’s good with his fingers, even better with his mouth.

But then there’s this side of Jisung after he’s ruined you. He knows what you want to eat after you’re all cleaned up, knows what show you want to watch, knows if you want to just drop dead in bed or need someone to force you to finish your uni assignments. In short: Jisung is good. If you ever said that out loud and someone caught wind of it, they might assume that you liked him.

But Changbin. You like Changbin. You like Changbin you like Changbin you like Changbin—

You like Changbin, right?

“You’ve been looking at me as if I had the word CLOWN written over my forehead. Do I have something on my face or what?” you cross your arms and are met with your friends quickly averting their eyes from you.

Felix is the first one to break the silence. “Is that a new dress?”

“Not really. I recently found it when I cleared out my closet and decided to give it one more try. Why—“ you pause, and your expression turns grim once it dawns on you. “I look ridiculous in this, don’t I?”

“Yeah.”

“No!”

“You look like a clown.”

“Seungmin-Hyung, did you really just???”

If your crippling self-esteem hadn’t reached its all-time low before, then it definitely did now. “Geez, thanks,” you deadpan.

Jeongin is panicking, trying to provide some damage control as Felix snaps at Hyunjin and Seungmin. “Nobody cares about your two cents!”

“Well, but she asked for our opinion!”

“Nobody cares about your honest two cents!”

“Let’s just have lunch at the burger place and talk about this later, Hyung!”

You’re still dazed, chuckling dryly like those cartoon characters usually do when their soul leaves their body after someone dragged them. The entire situation is downright sad to witness. Is this a sign that your period is coming soon? That’s it! That probably explains why you’re acting so uncharacteristically sensitive today—

“The dress suits you, (y/n). You should wear it more often,” Changbin says.

“Hah?” you flinch and you’re sure your soul actually left your body when you turn to face Changbin smiling genuinely at you. Out of your periphery, you see Jisung and Chan behind him, but that’s not the point.

What? The? Fuck? Did he really just? Did Changbin just… compliment you?

You don’t realize how long you’ve dumbly stared at him until Jeongin nudges you. “Uhhhh, thanks!” you squeak out, cringing at how your voice just went up by an octave. You can feel Jeongin facepalming internally at your response, but you don’t blame him; you’d most likely do the same.

Changbin just smiles before he turns away to get to his next class, tugging Jisung and Chan with him.

Nevermind. Wearing this dress was the best decision you’ve made in your entire college career. The way you suddenly beam almost gives Felix whiplash — it’s obvious in the way he stares at you as if he ended up watching a comedy instead of the melodrama he was expecting. Hyunjin seems just as flabberghasted, Jeongin is still cringing from the secondhand embarrassment, and Seungmin just grins.

“Ah, so lover boy is the reason, I see.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Oh my god, just shut up, Seungmin.”

Jisung is eating you out with such fervor that has you sobbing and thrashing around. He’s merciless in every literal sense, keeping your hips planted on the couch with his hands to the point where veins are bulging out, and lapping up your juices with his tongue, continuing even though you already came. He only pulls away, lips glistening in your release, once you tug on his hair despite his orders to not do that.

“Already spent now? But baby, we just started.” he pouts. “Or is it because it’s me? Would you defy if Changbin was the one eating you out?”

You stare at him with blown out eyes. Why the fuck is he bringing up Changbin now? The words hang heavy in your throat and are threatening to burst, but the death stare he delivers stops you from doing so.

Something’s not right.

“Don’t tell me... you’re wet again because I just mentioned Changbin. Changbin this, Changbin that, huh? It’s always only Changbin, Changbin, Changbin. And I thought I was doing you good all along,” he rages, making you flinch. He can be terrifying when he wants to be, but this time, he seems completely out of it. “You know what? I’m fucking done with holding back. You’re mine, got it?”

With that, he dives back into your cunt, sucking harshly on your clit as he slides a finger in you. You try to pry him off, but his weight is restraining you to the sofa.

“Jisung, it hurts— ouch—“ Panic starts to rise in you when he finally detaches himself from your nub, but instead, moves down to your thighs and starts sucking on the skin with a force much harder than you’re used from him. “What are you doing? S-stop—!”

“You’re mine, you’re supposed to be mine. I am literally written on your skin. So why can’t you just wish to be with me? Do I have to mark you up so that you’ll finally get it?”

It hurts. It hurts. Once you feel teeth on your skin, you burst into tears. “Red, Jisung, red!”

As if it was the spell to break the cast, Jisung finally snaps out of it. His features break once his eyes meet yours. Regret sticks onto him like a second skin, and he slightly moves his hand in an attempt to reach out to you. Your muscles react faster though, and you instinctively pull your legs towards yourself and shy away from him. The way his face drops by another layer of remorse tugs at your heartstrings, but the impending fear overpowers everything else you’re feeling.

“What’s going on? What went over you?” you ask.

Jisung’s breath is shaky. He feverishly opens his mouth several times, but no sound is coming out. He’s struggling to find the right words, maybe trying to find a somewhat reasonable justification for his behavior. In the end, he lets out a defeated sigh. “I can’t do this anymore without having feelings—” his voice is weak and vulnerable and you’ve never witnessed him break down like this before, “—I like you. I like you the way you like Changbin. I just...”

Silence.

“Leave,” you whisper, but in this silence, your voice rings out loud and clear. This is… too much weight for your heart to carry.

Jisung complies. He grabs his belongings from the floor, slips on his shirt, and leaves with his head hung low. His footsteps grow more and more distant, but then he stops.

“Are you really in love with Changbin?” His voice cracks.

You don’t muster up the courage to face him. “Just read my mind.”

It’s silent again. Too overwhelming. You’re waiting for yet another outburst of him, waiting for his “I want you to say it out loud”, because that’s how the conversation always goes.

The last thing you hear is the front door falling in its lock with a soft click.

You like Changbin. You like Changbin you like Changbin you like Changbin you like—

You like him, right?

Things have changed.

You and Jisung haven’t crossed paths ever since, not even passed each other by in the hallways. It’s weird since you’ve grown used to seeing him every day outside of your apartment complex. You’ve never really acknowledged each other’s presence with a wave or something in the sorts; it was just a second where your eyes met, and then your days went on.

That being said, you run into Changbin quite frequently. If you ever exchanged words, it’s nothing more than friendly small talk and the one or other compliment about his music. Talking to Changbin is nice; he makes you smile.

You know a little bit more about Changbin now, like his favorite ice cream flavor or the fact that he has a pokemon plushie named Gyu. It’s cute, and you chuckle when you think about how you’d pay good money for that information a few weeks ago.

Changbin is nice, and there’s nothing more to the story.

The chaotic quartett you call your friends however, doesn’t seem to buy it. They are loud and nosey and have eyes, so it was set in stone that they’d tease you about it sooner or later. It’s all fun and games, and you played along with it at first, because that’s how you guys are. But as time went on, when the banter became so repetitive and blown out of proportion to the point where they have made clowning you about your small interactions with Changbin the pinnacle of their entertainment, you’ve begun to be fed up by it.

“Will you finally stop bringing him up in an indecent manner every single lunch break? Or even better, stop bringing him up altogether?” You snap, which shocks everyone at the table because you never snap.

Nobody has time to react as you quickly stomp away to grab some fresh air. You mutter out every curse under the sun, not intending to let your anger take over you this much. You’ve only made it past the door when Felix catches up to you, placing a hand over your shoulder.

“(y/n), what’s the matter? Clearly, something’s bothering you. And I know it’s not because of just Seungmin.” Concern is woven in his smooth voice.

You have to admit, it was a smart and calculated move from your friends to send Felix your way. He’s always been the compassionate one out of your little friend group. Like a pillar, he’s the one who keeps you all grounded (and he’s the one to drive your asses back home after the wild Alpha Beta Gamma frat parties).

“I don’t like Changbin that way, I realized. So it’d be very much appreciated if you asses didn’t allude to that every time,” you huff.

Felix sends you an understanding smile. “We can work that out. You know that Hyunjin and Seungmin in particular can be insensitive and sometimes don’t realize they’ve taken things too far..”

“Fine, but that’s not the main thing that’s eating me up alive, Felix.” you sigh. The words seem to flow out of your mouth like a waterfall. “I’ve realized I’ve never really liked Changbin. Okay, fine, he was just a crush I had but I don’t like him.”

He nods slowly, his brain processing your ramble. “So you like someone else.”

“Yes. And I don’t know how to fix it because we got into a huge fight.”

“Talk to them. That’s the only thing left to do.” His response is immediate, and he says it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Every relationship has its ups and downs, and if you want to be committed, you have to fight for it. If you were made for one another, you’ll make it.”

The last part makes you laugh internally. If only he knew.

“Let me guess, you expect me to barge into his place to sort things out,” you say.

Felix gives you the look of judgment. “I mean, you could also show some human decency and text him in advance so he’s also prepared. But that works fine too.”

Come to think of it, you’ve never been to Jisung’s apartment. That’s about to change when you knock on his door sometime in the evening, shortly after sunset.

Jisung’s face immediately drops once he opens the door. “What are you doing here?” His voice is soft, drenched in regret.

It’s not that his appearance has reached rock bottom. He still takes good care of himself; however, you pick up the dark circles under his eyes and his complexion seems a little paler. Not sickeningly pale, but in a sense that he hasn’t seen the light of day for a few consecutive days.

You shift your weight on one leg and fiddle with your fingers. “Can we talk?”

Jisung gulps. “Yeah, sure,” he mumbles after a moment of hesitation before inviting you in.

“I’ve thought a long time about this. Everything, really,” you start awkwardly as soon as you’re both standing stiffly in his living room. “I, um…”

You cringe inwardly as your voice trails off. Truth be told, you’ve rehearsed what you wanted to say many times a few hours ago. Even wrote down the entire speech. Then threw the draft away, only to compose a new one. And then again and again and again. After what felt like an eternity, you had polished your final speech and memorized it from top to bottom, even making sure that your flow sounded natural. But now that this is the real deal, your mind goes blank. Of course, of fucking course, your illiterate brain had to give up on you in the situation that mattered the most.

Jisung purses his lips. “Do you want something to drink first? No need to rush—”

“I don’t like Changbin!” you blurt out. Jisung stares at you in confusion. “I mean, I used to like Changbin — I still do, he’s a nice guy! Don’t get me wrong — but that’s all he is. He’s… nice. I like him, as a friendly guy. I had a crush on him, but now it’s just, uh, like. Platonic! Yeah, platonic.”

Despite him nodding slowly, you know that he is still lost. You would be too if you were on the receiving end of this painfully clumsy delivery.

You give yourself a mental slap as you take a deep breath. It can’t get any worse than this. Definitely impossible. You’ve already proven to him how bad your public speaking skills are. Might as well get over it with the bluntest words. “I miss you. And not because of the sexual things we did, but everything else. I miss you coming over, miss the movie night, and all that. I miss you, Jisung.”

He stares at you silently. Your eyes search his face for any sign of emotion, and for one too many times, Jisung is impossible to read. Okay, perhaps you did manage to tell him what you wanted to tell him even worse than whatever the fuck your initial attempt was.

But then his blank armor cracks. Little by little, his eyes soften, disbelief and remorse on display for you to see. Jisung is looking at you as if his world has fallen apart even more. He’s looking at you as if he’s clinging to the last threads of reason, trying to make sense of the situation. He’s looking at you with eyes that could hold stars behind them, stars that were supposed to burn out yet shine brighter than the universe.

“How can you say that? I hurt you. I made you cry! I was being a selfish asshole who put out his anger on you!” he exclaims, voice breaking towards the end. Pain clouds his red eyes, and he’s fighting to keep the tears at bay.

You slowly prod closer to him, testing the waters. He doesn’t react once, not even when you stand directly in front of him. Not even when you gently place your hands on a shoulder each. Not until you say, “It’s alright. I’m alright. No hard feelings.”

That’s his breaking point. Tears stream down his face, while quiet hiccups jump out of his throat. “How can you be so nice to me?” His sobs are muffled as he eases into your touch, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around your waist, clinging onto you as if you’re his lifeline.

The answer is simple, you say to yourself, as you thread a hand in his hair. “We’re soulmates.”

The weight of the words hangs in the air, shattering the previous tension and all the worries in your heart. It’s liberating, finally being able to say it out loud without feeling like an abnormality for saying those words with happiness. You’re soulmates. You’re soulmates, and that’s okay.

Jisung’s sobs resound throughout the room, and so do his countless, tiny yeah, we are’s. You need a moment before you register the wetness on your face. It feels like an eternity standing in his warm embrace, even after there are no more tears left to cry.

“Can I kiss you?” Your voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, but Jisung catches it. two fingers gently lift your chin so that you’re facing him. You almost melt when your eyes meet, his gaze filled with adoration that makes you want to burst at the seams.

“Yeah. I’d love that.” Jisung smiles.

It costs you your willpower to tear your eyes away from him before they flutter down to his lips. Despite his bottom lip being a little cracked, they look inviting and you wonder what they taste like. You expect him to nudge you, expect him to tell you to hurry up and do something because you’re pretty sure you’re staring at his lips for far too long.

He doesn’t. The grip on your chin is loose as if to tell you to take your time and go at your own pace. But the longer you wait, the more reluctance builds up. It’s a lot of power he’s given you; hell, it’s the first time he hands the reigns to you.

“Can you… uhm… I’ve never done this before, so yeah…” you look at him with a crooked smile.

The breathless chuckle that leaves him sounds like music to your ears. Jisung moves his hand to the back of your neck before closing the distance between you.

The kiss is short and sweet, but that alone suffices to make the butterflies in your stomach burst. The faint taste of coke lingers on him, and before you know it, you’re kissing again. Jisung’s lips are like an addiction, reeling you back in for another one. Somewhere along the way, the kisses change. Innocent presses of lips are long forgotten, replaced by teeth playfully tugging on your bottom lip, and Jisung kissing you deeper to the point where he steals all oxygen out of your lungs.

Your hands slide down his chest, tugging on his shirt. Startled by your bold actions, he pulls away, but you catch him back into another liplock that leaves the two of you breathless. All you can think of clearly is Jisung Jisung Jisung—

This time he forces himself away from you. Gasping for air, he places his forehead on yours. “If we go farther than this, then I don’t know if I can control myself.” His warning is barely above a whisper.

“Then don’t,” you whisper back.

That’s all the reassurance he needs before leading you to his bedroom, all the whilst latching onto your lips once more. He doesn’t let go of you until your back hits the soft mattress and he’s on top of you. Warm, slightly calloused hands trail from your cheeks to the hem of your shirt.

“Color?”

“Green,” you respond, smiling up at him. The sun has long vanished at the horizon, replaced by the dim moon and stars. Despite only a little light surging past the blinds into the room, you can see Jisung’s features crystal clear. The endearing smile is cast into the back of your mind, so is the delicacy in his touch, fingertips lightly grazing your skin as he sheds all your clothes off until you’re left in your underwear. After hearing your complaints, he discards his own clothes with an amused glint in his eyes.

Jisung takes his time pounding every single detail of your features into his memory. His hands roam all over your body, inciting goosebumps. You lean into his touch with a sigh and flit your gaze to him once he stops on a particular spot.

The look on his face is unreadable, but the hesitation in his voice speaks for itself.  “Does this bug you?” he asks, uncertainty laced in it as he runs his finger over each character of his name that’s inked under your collarbone. You shake your head with a hum that turns into a soft moan once he leaves kisses on the spots his finger burned before, one for each letter. Eventually, his actions spiral out to sucking lovebites and rutting his bulge against your heat, enticing louder whines out of you. Your vision morphs into blurriness as you move your hips in sync with his, locking your arms around his neck to pull him even closer to you.

“(y/n), baby…” Jisung heaves for air, “Is it okay if I…?.”

“Please,” you mewl, “want you inside me.” Your desperation must’ve shone through your tone, as Jisung presses a loving kiss on your forehead before he reaches over to the nightstand for a condom, grinning like a lovesick idiot.  

In books and movies, this is the part where the virgin would reach peak nervousness. Too many fears would be inhabiting their mind; the fear of pain, fear of not fulfilling their partner’s needs, fear of the entire situation, essentially. Whatever they depict in those books and movies, it doesn’t match up with the warmth and want pumping in your veins. Even after Jisung slipped your and his underwear off and slid the condom on his leaking cock, there’s no sign of fear bubbling in you. It’s rather the opposite; you nudge him to finally slide into you.

“So impatient,” he tuts playfully, and because he can’t help being a bit sadistic, he teases your dripping entrance with the tip of his cock. Tears begin to form in your eyes from the frustration of clenching around nothing. You feel like crying for good once he slowly pushes into you. The stretch feels unfamiliar and completely different than what you’re used to from his fingers, but it’s not unpleasant as you throw your head back. While you’re adjusting to his girth, Jisung observes your every expression, faltering whenever you scrunch your eyes shut. 

“You still there?” he asks in hushed tones, caressing your cheek.

In awe about his concern, you nod. “I’m fine. It’s just… new. I’ve never done this, but I guess you already figured that out.” It takes you a moment to catch your breath, and then you give him the green light to continue.

The way Jisung has your hands firmly against the bed lacks the usual roughness; he isn’t gripping your wrists as if he’s about to cut off your blood circulation. This time, he has intertwined his fingers with yours as if he doesn’t ever want to let go of you. A firework of colors and stars is all you see as he thrusts into slow and deep and with all the passion he has to offer. His lips don’t leave space for a breather either; he kisses you with so much fervor that it swallows your heart up whole. At that instant, you realize that he’s claimed your heart and isn’t going to give that up any time soon. You don’t mind, because you know that you’ve committed the same crime.

It’s not long after until you feel the orgasm building up. Jisung brings one hand down to flick your clit, and just like that, you unravel beneath him. His own release follows suit, a muffled groan coming from his lips as he spills into the condom.

It’s quiet for a moment, no words spoken between you except for harsh breathing. Eventually, Jisung slides his softening dick out of you and disappears for a moment to clean up, returning with a damp towel for you to freshen up a little, as well as a glass of water.

“I think I won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” you say after you gulped down the drink in one go, voice devoid of emotion. A laugh leaves Jisung. The way you deliver it is so casual as if he didn’t just have his dick in you minutes before. “Also, isn’t this the part where we should cuddle?”

“So bossy, your royal majesty.” He even takes a bow before he climbs back on the bed, pulling the covers over your bodies, and scooting up to you. He says something else, but you don’t register what exactly. All you care about is being wrapped in his warm embrace. The stench of sweat isn’t prominent on him anymore. Instead, it’s a huge cloud of Axe overpowering your senses. You would complain, but you’re too blissed out to bother.

Jisung must’ve noticed at a certain point that you’ve wandered to daydream paradise. “You’ve been quiet for a while. A penny for your thoughts.”

“But you can read my mind.”

“I want you to say it out loud.” His answer comes like a shot while his hand is brushing through your hair. “That, and your thoughts are too jumbled and my head is going to malfunction if I try to decode everything running in your head right now.”

The corners of your lips quirk upwards. “I’m just thinking about how we did everything in the wrong order. It’s just now that we kissed, before that I only sucked you off or something. We’re so fucked up.”

“If you word it that way, we definitely didn’t follow the book.” Jisung laughs in agreement. The vibrations from his chest causes you to bubble up in warmth.

“I don’t mind, though. That’s not the point. I’m happy.” You don’t have to look up to know that his eyes lit up. “Jisung, I’m happy that you’re mine.”

The hold around your waist tightens, and you feel a soft kiss being pressed on top of your head. “And I’m happy that you’re mine.”

In another lifetime, another universe, you probably wouldn’t have to go through these struggles. Society would normalize having someone that completes you. You wouldn’t go through countless stages of denial, countless stages of frustration, and countless stages of doubt.

In another lifetime, another universe, you potentially could’ve been on even worse terms. Just like in those cyberpunk movies, maybe you two would be enemies, one fighting alongside the government, the other assisting the villain who tries to overthrow the system. Star-crossed lovers, that’s what you two would be dubbed as.

In another lifetime, another univer—

No need to fantasize about what could be. The only lifetime that matters is this lifetime, this universe, your reality. In reality, people like you live in hiding. In reality, society is doubtful towards people with soulmates. In reality, people like you are destined for a tragedy. It’s taken you a long time to wrap it around your head.

That’s alright though. You’re alright. You’ll always be alright. The universe might have not played in your favor in this lifetime, but you still found each other. Perhaps, the universe will be more forgiving towards you in your next lifetime. Or the one after. Who knows? Whatever happens, at least you know you have one person you’re bound to meet wherever you are, whenever you are. One person who won’t ever let go of you. One person you won’t ever let go of.

“Yeah, I’m yours.”

#i'm never writing a oneshot again this is too stressful for my heart #stray kids smut #skz smut #han jisung smut #jisung smut #stray kids dark hours #dom!jisung #sub!reader #jijiri.txt #smut.mine #i winged the ending so pls go easy on me dlskjflkjsa

[thisnoodlewritesao3]

Untitled | Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader

Characters: Iwaizumi Hajime, Reader, Oikawa Tooru

Pairing: Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader

Word Count:  2571

Summary: "At first, he thought you sent him those videos (by mistake) as a prank. And he got annoyed. But as started to text you, he realised how sweet you are, how kind and lovely. And he fell, hard." This was the prompt, tho I didn't follow it completely

A/N: This is very much so self-indulgent, so no judging me. This is based off of a matchup I got from @forgetou that I absolutely adored, and just had to write. Thank you for giving me permission to use it, absolutely angel

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It wasn’t that Iwaizumi had anything against you - he didn’t really have any feelings one way or the other - although if he had to choose, he definitely wouldn’t keep you in his life for long. He didn’t even know much about you other than that you were smart (being in the same class as him told him that), but your personality was a bit… much? Extremely immature? Carefree? Naive? A lot of things. Definitely not his cup of tea - he already had enough trouble coping with Oikawa - but at least him and Oikawa had things in common.

From what he could see, you felt the exact same way, never offering him a second glance when he entered the classroom.

So, why had you sent him a video?

The only reason he had your number to begin with was because of a project you’d been forced to work on last year with him; you hadn’t messaged him since, and neither had he.

He hesitated before opening the video; you were smiling so brightly, awkwardly looking around your room for some sort of escape from whatever you were about to say, “okay, okay, you finally convinced me!” You cheered, squeezing your eyes shut and smiling brighter. “This is for all my lovely friends-” Oh, so it’s just a prank. He huffed at his own thoughts; the idea that you were just pulling a prank on him pissed him off “-since you guys say that my singing makes you happy? I don’t get it… especially since I can’t sing,” you rubbed the back of your neck. “I- I guess I’ll just get this over with.”

You reached over to the side, grabbing a pair of headphones, they were ridiculously too big for your head, but you didn’t seem to care. A large intake of breath before you pushed away from your desk; your hand shook as you turned on the music, it was a split second before you started singing.

You’ve been such a jerk

since you left last week

You were staring at something off camera, eyes dancing over, what he could only assume to be, the lyrics as you sang. He had to admit you were right, you couldn’t hit a single note, making it almost painful just to listen. Then your smile slowly brightened again, shining within your eyes.

You’re careful with your words

but I’m pulling teeth 

you said this wouldn’t hurt

Bobbing your head and swaying, finally letting any anxiety and ease wash over you. Right now he was more concerned that he could hear each lyric blasting through the headphones, like you were trying to drown yourself out - surely you were going to damage your ears.

Give me cavities

And all of your apologies are only empty calories

You smiled brightly, squeezing your eyes shut but facing the camera. You put your hand on your chest; the impact made him wince, but you didn’t falter in your words.

After all this time

I start asking why I’m staying

were you ever mine?

You pointed at the camera, quirking up one brow as if it were an actual question. The more you wriggled and danced the more your hair flew around; such a pure enthusiasm in every movement. There it was. The childish nature he was used to seeing from you. The one that pissed him off so much.

Are we something that’s worth saving?

every conversation puts me back on medication sometimes

sorry’s just another word you’re saying

He must have been going crazy when he saw some actual sadness twinkle into your eyes; he decided that he was just reading far too into it.

Do I look like her

Does she talk like me?

Your brows furrowed together, staring off camera again. As you sang (read: yelled) the lyrics, there was something more to them. Something more fiery. Maybe you just related to the lyrics. He couldn’t know.

Been feeling insecure

Codependency is hard to break

You wrapped your arms around your body, that sadness trickled in again, there was no questioning it this time. Not even a second passed before you smiled brightly again, acting like there was nothing to be seen. Acting like that was all for show.

When you never make it easy

Reconstructive surgery can’t fix my anxiety

You squished your cheeks together, mumbling the words. He watched you intently as you repeated the chorus. Pumping your fist and spinning around lightly in your chair - a strange mixture of emotions erupted on your face when the wire to your headphones wrapped around something out of his vision, forcing them off of your head. The music blasted freely as you broke out into a fit of laughter, snorting and cackling like a hyena.

You turned back towards the camera when you finally stopped laughing, “so that happened, um, thank you for listening! I love you guys so much.” You winked at the camera, lazily blowing a kiss before the video ended.

Iwaizumi was almost in shock - though that was quickly brushed away by the anger from the obvious prank. You couldn’t really think he was that stupid, could you? He pondered the idea of shooting you a text, telling you that this was ridiculously childish behaviour; that was probably exactly what you wanted, so he chose not to give you a reaction at all.

That wasn’t the last time you sent him a video of you singing.

In fact, you sent one every single day for a few weeks. He listened to each one of them - definitely not feeling more positive and self-assured after each one. There was a theme; they were all mostly upbeat, something you could easily jam and bob your head to, something that gave you a lot of energy. Sometimes you were out of breath after it.

Still, after that wave of happiness came the storm of anger because, despite the fact he hadn’t given you a reaction to his prank, you were still trying to prank him.

Yet there was something so endearing as you cheered and smiled - sure, you were childish, but maybe he could see why people liked you after all. Something so pure about your reactions. Something so unfiltered and contagious (he’d never admit it, but he had started making a playlist of the songs you sang).

Eventually, he stopped seeing them as a prank and started looking forward to them. It was weird; he’d be in the middle of studying and suddenly remember that you’d probably send a video soon, his heart would flutter.

Nothing about your in person relationship changed; you rarely looked in his direction, too occupied with your own head space to even realise he was there. He couldn’t help but feel jealous as you laughed with classmates, brushing their arms, patting them on the head, comparing hand sizes - it was strange.

Even Oikawa seemed to notice the way he flickered his eyes over to you, often teasing him - until Iwaizumi smacked him over the head - that was always enough to stop the setter.

Slowly, he realised that maybe you weren’t as childish as he thought. Sure, innocence was a big part of your act, but there was so much more underneath the surface that he hadn’t realised. You took notes like your life depended on it; you’d nibble at your nails when you were deep in thought; sometimes that concentration led to your tongue poking out between your lips, very cat-like. You had horrible balance but a love for climbing things - that was how you’d ended up with a lot of injuries. You weren’t too good at sports, when they’d played volleyball in gym you fumbled through receives, failed at sets, serves were just as worse, not even talking about your spikes - they were laughable. Even when you face-planted roughly, earning worried cries from friends, you still got back up and asked to try again. He was worried, and intrigued, you had a lot of energy and he admired it.

For two months, you sent a video every single day.

Until one day you stopped.

Maybe you finally realised that the prank wasn’t going to work; or maybe it was something else. Any excitement Iwaizumi had felt for them quickly faded.

You seemed to act differently, too, still smiling sweetly to anyone who greeted you, but past that… everything seemed unnatural. He wanted to ask you what was wrong, to figure out what was going on in your mind; one day, he expressed those worries to Oikawa, “I thought you hated her.” The setter hummed running his hand through his hair.

Iwaizumi shrugged, “I- maybe I judged her wrong, I don’t know.” He glanced back over at you, noticing how you absentmindedly traced the back of your hand. “She… when she gets really happy, it’s… cute. And seeing her like this?” He didn’t like how much he cared about her, it was frustrating. It felt like how he felt for Oikawa, but more intense - like he wanted to protect her from something, but he didn’t even know what it was.

He wasn’t paying much attention, not until Oikawa started walking in your direction, looking over his shoulder and tossing the spiker a wink. He listened intently, “hey, L/N, right?” Oikawa mused, looking around nonchalantly.

A wave of indifference flashed over your eyes before you smiled brightly, sitting up straight, “yep. What can I do for you…? Sorry, what’s your name?” Suddenly, everyone gaped at you - Iwaizumi had to physically stop himself from bursting out laughing - it only got harder when Oikawa looked like you had crushed his whole world.

“Y/N! That’s Oikawa Tooru,” your friend called out. You turned to look at her, then back at him, “you know, the volleyball team's captain?” You raised a brow again, still confused. “How have you not heard of him?”

“This school is massive, you can’t expect me to know every student’s name,” you huffed and rolled your eyes, “what can I do for you, Oizawa?”

That was another low blow; you could have heard a pin drop in the silence, people were still staring at you, “...kawa.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s… Oikawa.”

“Okay, but that still doesn’t answer my question,” even though your face was cheery, the indifference had worked its way into your tone.

“My friend, you probably haven’t heard of him,” he turned and looked back at Iwaizumi - the spiker didn’t think he’d ever seen Oikawa so defeated, “that’s-”

“Iwaizumi Hajime?” You locked eyes with the brunette, smiling slightly, “why wouldn’t I have heard of him?”

Your friend smacked your arm, “Y/N!”

“What? He’s literally in my class and I did a project with him last year. I don’t get what the confusion is.” You pointed out, waving an enthusiastic arm at him - you really knew how to crush Oikawa’s ego - the setter almost looked offended, but also relieved.

“He wants to talk to you.” Oikawa sighed, turning away.

“He couldn’t say that himself?” You laughed, standing up and walking with Oikawa over to Iwaizumi. “What is it?” You asked when you reached him, fingers interlocked in front of you.

“Um… Can I- in private?” This was more unusual, the fact he couldn’t find the words to say to you.

The smile reached up into your eyes, not fully taking over, but enough to show your own intrigue. You nodded, letting him lead the way - your friends were gawking at you, but you simply waved them off.

He led you through the maze of halls until he reached the roof - he was right to think it would be quiet this time of day - only one other person sat up here, and even they were on the complete opposite end. When he stopped walking, you chimed, “well, I’m listening.” You looked so expectant, watching with such intensity as he pulled out his phone, getting up your contact.

“Are you okay?” He asked, trying to find the right moment to turn around his phone.

“Yep,” you cheered, “now, did you really bring me up here just to ask that?” You rolled your eyes but the action was counteracted by the playful smile on your lips.

“I just… it’s- you stopped sending videos.” He passed you his phone, giving you a chance to examine his screen. Your eyes opened wide, confusion and shock danced in your expression. “I was just worried, because you always looked so happy during them but-”

“You were worried about me?” Your voice was soft, almost unsure.

“Well, yeah, I mean,” he awkwardly chuckled, “I thought it was a prank at first.”

“Why would I prank you?” You looked up at him quickly.

“When we did our project together, you seemed like you didn’t like me…” he admitted. “And you reminded me of Oikawa, and it sort of pissed me off.”

“You were pissed off at me for acting like Oizawa?”

“Oikawa.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you waved him off.

“Then you sent me the videos and- I just realised that I was wrong… about you! And I really looked forward to seeing them.” He was uncharacteristically awkward, his heart fluttering slightly when you smiled. Warmth rose to your cheeks, eyes sparkling at the idea of him getting excited to see you sing.

“I… I never actually meant to send them to you, but you never complained, so… I just kept doing it.” You admitted, rubbing the back of your neck nervously, passing him back his phone. “And!” You called out, eyes wide again with an overwhelming passion, “I never hated you, or whatever it was you said. I thought you hated me so I just… I guess… kept away?”

That news hit Iwaizumi like a truck. The reason you avoided him was because you thought he hated you? He certainly never hated you, though he would admit he hadn’t always been the nicest. It all made sense, why you never gave him a second glance, why you didn’t greet him like everyone else. He had never felt more stupid in his life.

“That and I really liked you before so I was super nervous,” you avoided his eyes, a rush of confidence had overtaken you before you could even think about the words.

He blinked at you. Once. Twice. Three times. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “What?” That came out a lot quieter than he wanted, but you heard it nonetheless.

“I liked you.” You nodded, punctuating the sentence with a hefty ‘hmpf’ while crossing your arms under your chest.

Again, shocking news to Iwaizumi. By the time you two did the project together, Oikawa had already had the heart’s of every girl around him stolen. Yet he could never see the way you blushed at him, the second glances you took (though those were all before the project). Damn, you didn’t even know who Oikawa was, not even now when his name was in the mouths of every girl - every girl except you.

“I… I still like you.” You stepped away, running the pads of your fingers over your knuckles.

You could have sworn he short-circuited right there.

It took him a few minutes to get his composure, you just stared at him awkwardly, humming occasionally to try and ease the awkward silence.

“I… like you, too.” He muttered, covering his mouth with his hand. Of course you heard it. That soft smile was enough to make his heart thunder in his chest.

----

Y/N eventually asks Iwaizumi on a date to a volleyball game (because even if she knows nothing, she wants to see him happy)

When Iwaizumi gets to take her on a date, it’s obviously to a karaoke place, because despite her inability to hit any notes, he’d do anything to hear her sing again

Y/N still refuses to call Oikawa by his name (Oizawa all the way)

She starts sending him singing videos again, under the pretence that he sends them back

He complies

Oikawa started to send him singing videos, but Iwa just blocked him for a week

Because how dare he

----

Taglist:

@pies-writes-and-more

If you want to be added to my taglist, send me a DM or an ask

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq #hq imagines #haikyuu writing #hq fluff #hq x reader #hq writing #iwaizumi hajime #hq iwaizumi #oikawa tooru #hq oikawa #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi fluff #reader #fluff #thisnoodlewrites

[mecharose]

Happy Storyteller Saturday! Hope you're having a great day! This one's a bit deep but, what was the inspiration for your WIPs? Were you inspired by a movie, a book, or something else? Did it just come to you out of nowhere?

yesss thank u for giving me the opportunity to ramble abt this!! :D (WARNING: I have a lot of WIPs)

The Clone Story (self explanatory lol) - inspired by the Double Dipper episode of Gravity Falls. I thought they did Tyrone so dirty in that episode, I wanted to write a story where a clone was the protagonist (and the original was the villain!)

TLBTC (superhero story) - inspired by being bored af in a college visit during the height of Marvel Movieness™ around 2016.

Escape Train (1980s post-apocalypse) - came to me in a dream! a very vivid and plot-heavy dream I had about a bunch of ppl traveling on a train in a dystopian society, after reading The Handmaid's Tale all in 1 sitting the night before. I started writing it as an exercise in jumping into writing instead of getting stuck being a perfectionist in planning, so much of the worldbuilding and character choices were made out of pure, unfiltered self indulgence :P

Divine Rights (baroque fantasy + robots) - inspired by my European History AND my "magic, science, and religion" classes freshman year of college, while I was pulling an all-nighter for a history essay :P the plot is loosely inspired by the Portuguese revolution for independence against Spain. the Strata (AI god) is inspired by the fact that tech bros put so much faith in fallible technology.

Prince of Fates (nature-y fairy tale) - also came to me in a dream, but inspired by those illustrated, dreamy books of fairy-tales. particularly the Grishaverse fairy tale book, The Language of Thorns. I usually read a story out of that book before I sit down to write this one :)

Vampire Vampire Slayer (comedy, vampires, high school in the 1950s) - there was a pic on tumblr I wish I could find of a 1950s greaser looking vampire dude in front of a blue car that said like "vampires bite back" or whatever and IMMEDIATELY the entire story of a dude who got turned into a vampire against his will but now hunts vampires spawned into my brain. also this dude loves his car more than life itself. very cool very himbo very inaccurate depiction of the 1950s

nDOT (YA dystopia feat. robots) - I have NO clue where nDOT came from. like in general it was inspired by 2010s YA dystopia trends (The Hunger Games, Divergent, etc). but the actual story and the robot elements? no clue. idk. it just spawned into existence one day I wasn't writing it and then suddenly I was, forevermore :P

thx for the ask! :D

#asks #storyteller saturday #my WIPs #this is all the ones im working on rn actively there are others but they are in the Vault for now #look at this tho. SO many. if u read all of that heres a gold star -> 🌟

[infinitebells]

lazy sunday (i. matsukawa)

genre: pure, tooth rotting fluff

description: unfiltered peace surround you and your boyfriend, matsukawa issei, on this lazy, sunday morning

word count: 946

warnings: fem!reader, suggestive

a/n: this is just pure, self-indulgent fluff just because i felt like it. i didn’t have enough of a fleshed out idea to make this into an entire fic so enjoy this drabble :)

✧   ✧   ✧

“issei, stop trying to put your hand down my pants for five minutes please,” you whine, pushing away your boyfriend’s hand for the nth time that hour. his deep chuckles reverberated throughout his chest, where you had planted your head earlier. one of his hands ran comfortingly through your hair, while the other had attempted to sneak into the cloth of your shorts too palm the globes of your ass.

you had both been laying on the couch for the better part of the afternoon, your body positioned on top of his, arms wrapped tightly his torso. a soft, light blue blanket, courtesy of oikawa, was draped atop the both of you. the blanket itself had been a housewarming gift from when you two had first moved into your apartment together about a year ago.

“but i like touching your butt! it’s so squishy and warm, it’s like my own personal stress ball yknow,” he argued. giggles erupted from your chest, mattsun following suit. he’d always told you how infectious your laugh was, and it never failed to put a smile on your face. you snuggled your head into his chest, his other hand coming around your waist to pull your body impossibly closer to his. burying his face into your hair, he let out a long and winded groan, squeezing your side in protest.

“jeez you’re so needy, i just wanna cuddle for a bit but nooo, you’ve gotta have your hands either up my shirt or beneath my pants at all times,” you speak. he knows you’re just teasing, even you know that you’re teasing. you could never complain about the way he treated you, because everything he did was out of love. every present he bought simply because it somehow reminded him of you, every kiss he pressed to the temple of your head in pure adoration, every time he whispered those three magical words in reassurance, everything was because he loved you.

“it’s not my fault you have such a perfect ass, blame your mom,” he said, causing you to lift your head up and stare at him, your chin perched on his chest as he looked down at you.

“speaking of, she wants to meet with us tomorrow for lunch, can you take off from work for a bit?” you bust out your infamous pout, the one you used only when you really really needed something from him (he’d say yes to anything you asked of him though).

“yeah, i’ve got an easy day tomorrow so it should be no problem. i’ve been meaning to talk to your mom anyways,” he said after a beat. at that, you frowned, unclasping your hands from his waist to come up and play with his hair.

“my mom? about what?” your curiosity peaked as you stared at your boyfriend of two years.

“oh nothing, boiler plate stuff, nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about,” he leaned forward to plant a kiss on your forehead as your frown only deepened.

“babeee please?” you pouted even more than before, which only elicited a deep chuckle from your boyfriend.

“if i give you a kiss will you forgive me?” and how could you turn his offer down when he was looking down at you with unconditional love. so you leaned forward and gently pressed your lips against his. he hummed in appreciation, sliding his tongue along your lips questioningly. you gladly allow him into your mouth, his tongue dancing along yours. a content moan bubbled in your throat, and you could feel him smirk into the kiss at your body’s innate reaction to him. his hand in your hair threaded through the thin strands, keeping your head close to his.

pulling away from your kiss, he leaned back to look into your eyes, his gaze more serious than before.

“what’s wrong? are you okay?” concern flooded your system as you shuffled up more to take his face into your hands, your thumb unconsciously running along his cheekbone as your stare focused on his eyes. after a moment of silence, an ear splitting grin appeared on his face as both his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you into him. giddy laughs erupted from deep within his chest as he held you close, his face still in your hands. he looked utterly beautiful as his unfiltered laughs broke the peaceful silence of your living room, now painted gold from the sunset. rays of light decorated you both as your boyfriend, the love of your life, only tightened his hold on you, as if he was trying to push you two so close together you’d mold into one person. after his fit of laughter ended, he took a deep breath, his crinkled eyes on you as he flashed you one of the widest smiles you had ever seen before.

“god i love you so much,” he finally sighed out. you couldn’t help the dusting of pink along your cheeks, and he couldn’t help planting kisses all over your face before planting his lips on your own. you two basked in the tranquil happiness that was your life together, giggles interrupting your kisses. mattsun pulled back for a moment to wiggle his eyebrows at you suggestively.

“so about my hands going down your pants?” whole-hearted laughs left your mouth as you felt his hand slip into your cotton shorts to squeeze your butt cheek tightly.

“you’re horniness will be the death of me,” you rolled your eyes at him, but did nothing to stop his roaming fingertips.

“but you still love me,” he finished with a peck on your lips.

“damn right i love you.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq #hq fluff #hq x reader #matsukawa #matsukawa issei #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa fluff #haikyuu scenarios #hq scenarios

[disgruntledspacedad]

Jay! I am ALWAYS in the mood for some Javi/Ears hcs! Here's a self-indulgent one, because, why not? So both of them bring different strengths to the table, right? Between the two, Ears is definitely the more calm, strategic one whereas Javi is more in-your-face, do things without thinking, type. Do you think that would ever cause any disruption to their relationship? (Have a nice day babes xx)

Broody, post argument Javi regretting all of his life choices ^^

Oh, absolutely.

I’m going to try to be vague here to avoid spoilers, but strangely enough, this becomes more of an issue post-Colombia. At this point in Better Love, Javi and Ears are both in survival mode. And even though they share the same living space, their demanding jobs keep them apart far more than they are together. 

Because of this, Javi and Ears manage to stay in that honeymoon phase of the relationship for much longer than normal. Even little habits that would typically grate become quirks to be treasured. They find solace and much-needed stress release in each other, and because of the inherent danger of life in Colombia, their deep devotion to one another develops far before familiarity can breed contempt.

This is a blessing and a curse. It saves them lots of arguments up front, and in a lot of ways, it progresses and strengthens their bond, but on the other hand, once the dust settles and the mundanity of life kicks in, Javi and Ears are faced with the burning question of, oh fuck, do I actually even know this person at all?

And the answer is, of course! They know each other profoundly. Intimately. They love each other deeply. Irrevocably.

It’s just that the transition is awkward.

Ears is prone to flying off the handle, whereas Javi’s anger simmers. Javi’s Se-Fi means that he is far more capable of holding a grudge than Ears. She tends to get over things just as quickly as she’s bothered by them, but Javi’s emotions run slow and deep, and he has a strong sense of justice that, when crossed, grates at him on a intensely personal level.

Ears finds it easy to let go. Javi tends to hold on.

But funnily enough, after some time to brood and mope, it’s much easier for Javi to apologize than it is for Ears. Usually, he’s the one who comes groveling, and usually, Ears has already forgotten it. 

Javi needs closure. Ears doesn’t always require that, but sometimes, things nag at her for a while before she realizes what the problem actually is, so occasionally, Ears is the one bringing an issue to Javi, sometimes even weeks after Javi thought the disagreement was settled.

Javi learns to accept, and eventually, sometimes anticipate this. Often, he knows Ears better than she knows herself, and he can usually pick up that something’s bothering her before Ears can.

They both need constant challenge and stimulation. They are both intensely physical. They both crave adventure. They both get bored easily. They are both deeply committed to the relationship. They are both open to exploring new ways to keep things fresh, and (surprise!!), after some work, they manage to be pretty willing to discuss where things went wrong. 

So yeah, the change is a little rocky, sure, but that phase doesn’t last forever, and they come out stronger for it.

Regarding thinking versus acting, you’re absolutely right, but I want to expand on this a little bit. Ears is an ENTP. Her Ne-Ti brain makes her excellent at seeing all of the future possibilities and then filtering them through their factual details. When Ears can manage to slow down her mind long enough to focus, she is the queen of long-term strategizing, to the point that her assumptions are often scarily accurate.

However, Ears is an Ne dom. Ne is the function of endless possibility. It’s like ADHD on crack. Ears has decent intuition when she can stop and think, but sometimes, she acts without thinking, and that can get her into trouble. Most of the time, Ears is right, but when she is wrong, she is spectacularly wrong, and unfiltered, her mind generates pure chaos.

Javi is almost the exact opposite. He is an ESFP, with a tendency toward a nasty Ni grip. With Se as his dominant function, Javi lives solely in the moment. He notices everything, takes in every minute detail of his environment, which means that he’s excellent at reacting quickly and thinking on his feet. In an acute crisis, Javier Peña is the guy that you want at your back.

It’s that Ni grip that really sinks him. Ni is the function that infers the most likely future, and because it’s Javi’s inferior function, it tends to hurt him a lot more than it helps him. Javi tends to be a disastrous thinker, focusing on the worst-case scenario and working himself up over it. He’s usually able to detach from this tendency when it comes to work-related stuff, but when it’s personal? All bets are off. Javi’s self loathing, his insecurities, his incessant worrying over Ears, his inability to open up to her, his belief that all of his relationships are doomed to crash and burn spectacularly - all of that stems from this shitty relationship with Ni.

So, to summarize: Ears is the better long range planner, and Javi is at his best when he’s forced to think on his feet - just like you said. :)

In regards to their relationship, this is a really great. In a lot of ways, Ears and Javi balance each other. Their strengths are complimentary, and their weaknesses are covered. Both of them are beyond committed to making things work, and both of them are open to learning and communicating (particularly post If I Fall). 

They are much stronger as a team than they are alone, and it doesn’t take either of them long to realize that. 

#Javier Peña #Javier Peña x reader #Javier Peña x ofc #Hannah Aarons #javiears #javi x ears #better love #one day I am going to do an mbti deep dive on both of them I swear