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#as always im super interested in others' thoughts too
noemitenshi · 5 months
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Ok so. There's several questions in here, I'll try to address them all @marrecarandgi
Maybe let's do the "Can this man ever move on and find a new relationship after he and Tracy ride into sunset" first (which is also fully my HC, he didn't die, Tracy just had guilt-fueled nightmares that seemed so real she really believes she shot her walker!dad).
Anyway, yes, he was pretty hung up on his wife, it seems.
(Though honestly, parking her in this swamp type thing was weird to me? Like, wouldn't he want her closer by? It's almost like they don't really get Troy's character - like they present us a distorted version of him, we recognize enough of Troy in him to say 'it's him' but then there's just... something that isn't right)
Ok, lets ignore the things that don't quite fit and go with, he was super hung up on her. Though maybe not only her but also the way he lost her and how he put all of that on alicia and madison. so it seems to get closure he needed to get his revenge
(though that's again not super fitting with what they show us in ep11 - the first heart to heart he has with madison where she is about to kill him with her hammer. he says "you want her people to believe the same thing she did - when this is exactly what got her killed" warns her, really. and the way he looks at her, the way his voice sounds... it's almost like he cares. but then, why would he, if he hates her so much. It's almost like he's trying to connect to her, but then, why would he. If he hates her so much. Or maybe he wants her to stop believing in this thing that killed his wife. If so, then why save her in the end when he saw she didn't believe? It just doesn't fit together. Individually those things are fine but taken together it's very headscratchy. Sorry, I said I'll stay away from these things that don't quite fit but guess I can't stop myself ^^0)
Ok so, again ignoring all that and going with the 'he needed revenge/her killing Madison to move on... I think the fact that Madison ended zombie!serena and the fact that he buried her helped him a lot in the 'moving on from her'.
If we take this bullshit on face value with him regretting not letting alicia's idea die with serena, then even getting to *live it* (once he gets Tracy back from madison) may help him, too. A way to honor his wife and think on her but not with so much bitterness and ... well he clung to her in a way, right. Clung to revenge so he could cling to her maybe. Or the other way around. And if that is now broken (again taken the bullshit he said before he died at face value) he'll have a much easier time moving on now.
Now what happens between him and madison and alicia once they meet up - I have no idea. It could be that by this time Madison already started to regret killing him. I mean she's still not happy to see him - given that she expects him to still want to kill her. So their places could be somewhat switched now, mirroring the end of ep11. Her now full of regret and hm compassion even towards him and him... well that's the question isn't it? I think, if we go the route of 'what he said at the end of ep11 is the truth' then he should let her live. He's not gonna tell her this of course from the beginning since he doesn't trust her and still thinks she thinks like at the end of ep11 (no second chances, troy is irredeemable). So it'll be a bit of a dance I guess, with both of them misinterpreting the other's actions. But not for long bc once Tracy sees her dad no one can stop her from going to him. And that's all he wants, his daughter back. And they should leave madison and alicia and go out on their own.
Now if you'd rather not believe he had a change of heart end of ep 11 (which I get haha it kinda came out of nowhere), he's still gonna want revenge. And I think he will, once he finds them. He won't be convulted about it either, I don't think so. Now that he doesn't have his zombie!wife anymore. Now that he even lost his kid, I think he's gonna be methodical. Wouldn't mind him just creeping into their camp and shooting them point blank. Sure, they wont 'rot on their feet' but I think the need for them to be dead may at this point be greater than anything else. Especially since they have tracy. I think them having tracy is a pretty strong motivator for him to end things quickly and get her away from there. Tracy, who probably has her head screwed with a lot (I mean her going to madison after she believes she killed her dad is.. uh a choice and speaks not well of the kid's mental health... so that could lead to some interesting tension between them though I think they'd work through it soon enough. it's her *dad* after all). And yes once he's got her back and the other two lie dead, his wife buried, I think he *can* move on from her.
Probably entering into a new relationship won't be easy though (in either case, both the 'he took revenge' and the 'he just wanted his daughter back'), he feels like he wants to be single for a while now haha, which. Understandable. He was first married to his wife and then to the idea of revenge. And they say getting out of a relationship takes half the time the relationship lasted so uhm. Make of that what you will ;)
Maybe if he meets up with someone he knows it's easier for him to form a relationship than if it's someone completely new... just an idea though (maybe bc then it doesn't remind him so much of serena...?).
Also in my somewhat improbable HC (of course I have several contradicting HCs - as one does...) which I haven't quite let go off even though it turned out not to have any canon support (though also not really something that contradicts it so uhh (except for the part where I thought serena seems like a cutie and I don't want her to be a bad guy), I imagine serena as abusive towards troy.
Again no textual support of this - that whole idea was born out of the fear that they'd made troy be actually the one responsible for his wife's death (thank GOD that fear was unfounded haha). But yeah I was really anxious about this once it was revealed that alicia's idea killed tracy's mom but we had no further inforomation on it. So this fear, and the fact that he went 'it's not pretty to look at, I know' about his eye had me thinking that it could be possible. That sentence 'it's not pretty to look at, I know' gave me pause since... it doesn't sound like Troy to be concerned with how he looks. That was never him (yes even though he's well dressed now :P). So I thought, that almost sounds like he's quoting someone, omg what if he's quoting his wife?! What if his wife was at least verbally abusive towards him..(if not more)?? (Then the tracy thing kindaaaa makes sense too haha, he's subconsciously thinking back to that, is reminded of how his mom treated him and it's def a cry for help, calling his kid tracy... not that anyone heard him. as usual). Anyway if we go that route then a new relationship would be undoubtedly good for him (unless this one, too, is abusive haha...). Not sure if this makes him more or less likely to seek one out though. I think an argument could be made either way. Maybe more, just because he's still searching for what he'd searched for all his life: someone to love and appreciate him. Even while he's convinced it never could be different, didn't serena show him that, he's still searching...
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Now the dad thing... I think I said it somewhere before, to me it didn't feel out of character at all(if this is even what you're getting at? If not, feel free to correct me :) ). In fact I was superglad to hear him say he didn't give a fuck about Jeremiah. I maintain he had a complicated relationship with his dad (just like he had with his mom). He loved his parents probably the same way a kicked dog loves his master. Beyond reason and self-preservation. But he hates his parents, too. And I think he's ashamed of that, of feeling *wrong things*. I think he also thinks the fault that they don't love him lies with himself. That he is wrong, that he can't do what they want (a quiet child, best seen not heard etc). So he puts all that on himself, the hate he has for them and the fact that they don't love him. Both bc there's just something not right with him. So he buries it, buries it deep down.
Of course he was sad when his dad died, of course he grieved him. He probably also grieved that now he never could get from him what he wanted: being told he did good. Being told his dad is proud of him. All these things. I also think he was... relieved. And that horrified him. Showed him again, in his mind, that see, he is wrong. Who is relieved their dad is dead. And then he's also angry of course, angry at his dad for killing himself. Doing something that seems so out of character for him. Leaving Troy and Jake to pick up the pieces (probably like always... I imagine when he was drunk and destroyed things or made a mess, it was on the kids to clean up. Same with his mom btw). Anyway. very very complicated feelings, contradicting feelings even. No wonder he lost his mind in exile. And I think the fact that he destroyed this place, even though it pained him in the end, it also freed him. It was the beginning of letting go. Of his mom, his dad. Even Jake. A cleansing as he said, but for himself. And I think over the years those feelings became clearer to himself, he started to understand himself better, started to understand where his uncontrollable anger came from and could accept this. So yeah "fuck that old man" (paraphrased haha) isn't a weird thing for s8 troy to say at all. He's right. Fuck him.
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"I'd do it all again" Right, that one. Haha, those fateful words. I hope you forgive me for just quoting my own work, since I very much explored this:
Troy felt relieved when he heard Madison asked, “Why would Daniel want to kill Troy?” This was it, he was sure of it. This was the missing piece to get back into step with Madison. Because even though she’d just told him “we’re good” he knew they weren’t. He had sensed her trepidation in her ingenious smile, in the hesitation in her voice. And now he was sure it was because he was still keeping a secret from her. A secret that only became one because of Nick, because he had followed Nick’s lead on this. And he hadn’t minded, understood that Nick rather not tell his sister Jake died partly because of him… But now he couldn’t keep quiet anymore. Not if it talking could mean that it would bring Madison and him close together again. Not if it meant it could again be as it was, before, between Madison and him. And yes, their conversation got heated once he admitted what he’d done. He should’ve expected that but he was too caught up in it. In trying to explain himself, in trying to rush to go where they’d been before. He should’ve given her more time to process… he knew she would’ve, eventually. She understood him. They were the same – and that was what he was trying to tell her, remind her of, however clumsily. “I’d do it all again,” he implored her, trying to make her see, “All of it, Madison.”
(Bolded part is the most important one). Right so I think he's wanting for Madison to see his side, for her to well maybe not forgive him but definitely accept what he'd done, accept him) and her continued refusal got him agitated, angry, and so he blurted that out - unfortunately not at all doing what he set out to do but the complete opposite. That is why he says 'hed do it all again'. He wants acceptance for who he is, he's not gonna APOLOGIZE for it and he resents her for insinuating differently. All his life he's made to feel he was wrong and in madison he thought he'd finally found someone who got him. Understood him like no other. And now she stands before him having the gall to judge him too. It's too much and so he spits this into her face, forces her to confront all the bad things in himself. Sadly for him she answers not by acceptance as he thought, especially when he said "and you would too you know you would", this callback to how similar they are, but by killing him. And I think him calling out their similarities played def a role in her decision to strike him down.
(As an aside, I don't see Troy as someone who apologizes or appreciates an apology or even... gets what it is about. Esp. s3 Troy. He's thinking is along the lines: "If I did it, I did it, so there's no use in wishing things went differently, no use in lamenting. It happened and with the information I had at that time I couldn't have made another choice. I would do things again like this. So what use is an apology? Isn't it even cheapening things? Because then I could've just NOT DONE IN in the first place. But clearly I did" It's a bit of a circular reasoning. He's a bit naive in that haha.
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I'm not sure he raised Tracy to see zombie!serena as her mom. Yes, Tracy does call her "mom" but I didn't get the feeling that she things it really is *her*. Like I think she's very much aware and never had confusion over the fact that her mom is dead and this is her reanimated corpse. Is that much better? Not sure haha.
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waxflowerwoes · 10 months
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obviously chandrilan fashion is influenced by traditional east asian garments (the first time i was watched andor i was thinking about how much it reminded me of korean hanbok but that bias is probably indicative of how i grew up near a koreatown) and i saw someone somewhere say that it's odd that the shirts are crossed right over left (the way to dress a dead person) instead of the traditional left over right
now this could be a cultural oversight on the part of the costume designers. it wouldn't be the first time hollywood (or even star wars) appropriated an aesthetic they didn't understand. but with the line "play it how you want. but i'm going to assume i'm already dead," also existing in this show, maybe it's not.
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dr-gaytorius · 8 months
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so when i was a teen i was like, very alt, very punk, like eyeball-deep in the local music scene (this would continue for the next decade), i was NOT a scholar by any stretch and quite frankly hated academics. and my friend introduced me to this band and it ended up being one of my favorites for years.
well i was talking to my friend who's into a bad that was big back in that day and i was like ahhh yes.... i remember those days.... neon and crust and studded leather.... and i listed off some bands, and remembered that one i had liked for so long. i went and looked it up and spotted the album i remembered the most, and gave it a listen and well
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it would seem ive always been this way. apparently
#the older i get the more i realize that my life has been this strange paradoxical orobouros of self#one day i decided i would stop moulding myself to other's likings bc dulling my edges only helped those ppl hurt me#thus re-embracing a part of myself i'd learned to be ashamed of. and it was incredibly liberating#and then i realized it was my destiny to be a mortician#and i was sooooooooo afraid to tell ppl bc i was sure they'd be weirded out#but every person i told was like OHHHHH ok yes that makes complete sense. that's perfect#and the more i thought about it the more i was astonished it had taken me so long to figure that out lol#and realizing that i really am by nature a scientist has been really liberating too. i hate that my class bracket prevented me from#discovering that bc i was working all the time for a decade and had no time to explore myself or my interests or anything#and i honestly always thought i was stupid.... because of other people lol#and once i let go of other people's treatment of me as the lens through which i view myself#i realized#oh.... i'm a scary and smart little freak. huh#and i started living true-to-myself and it's been super fun and rewarding and ive never been happier#but like... i kept thinking. wow who could have ever seen this coming! this must seem like such a stark turn for the outside eye#like now that i finally recognize myself... others probably dont#and then i revisited this band and went#ah#no#im just oblivious#ive literally always been like that. even when i didn't know what it was or what it was like. just completely blind to a destiny that is no#SO crystal clear that it's changed how i see the world and myself and the way i live#crazy
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gyucheolslut · 7 months
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2:14 AM • KMG
lowercase intended.
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cw: somnophilia (consensual), established relationship, fingering, unprotected sex (don’t be stupid), creampie!! yum!! multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, nervous gyu, whiny desperate gyu & f!reader.. they both want to please each other so bad :( neck holding? it’s kind of implied that reader is smaller than gyu, his shirt is big on her and falls off her shoulders.. .. pet names such as baby, sweetheart, pretty girl… maybe more.. i don’t know.. i got carried away
word count: 1.7k~
not proof read!!
a/n: hi!! i’m eve~ this is my first time writing smut and i’m using it as a way to get back into writing! im super excited! i haven’t written in like.. 2 years.. so be nice to me.. :[ i hope you enjoy :]
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
mingyu couldn’t help himself. while you usually don’t move much in your sleep, especially within his tight grip.. tonight was different.
you wouldn’t stop moving..
at first, it wasn’t that big of a deal, with you occasionally shifting in his arms.. but it started to become an issue when your ass kept pressing into him, stirring up his mind and now painfully hard cock.
small soft whimpers and whines would occasionally sneak past your lips, making it more difficult for his mind to focus on anything other than fucking you in to the mattress..
while mingyu knew you weren’t doing it on purpose.. he could tell you were actually asleep.. the movement of your hips almost seemed too calculated. are you dreaming of him?
as if on cue, he was torn from his thoughts by a broken whine of his name.. “gyu..” it almost sounded painful. desperate. you needed him, he decided. he had to help you.
with shaky hands, mingyu found himself messing with the band of your underwear underneath your his shirt. why was he so nervous?
you had discussed your sexual limits and interests early on in your relationship.. and you’ve woken him up many times to some fantastic morning head.. so why was he so nervous?
mingyu sat there, contemplating for a moment before he whispered a small “fuck it..” under his breath, one of his big hands finding its way into your underwear.
using his middle finger, he pressed it between your folds finding your clit with ease.. groaning quietly into your hair as he can feel how warm and wet you’ve become. you were definitely dreaming about him.
with a skilled digit, mingyu circled your clit. feeling your head fall back into his shoulder, he peered down at you. the moonlight from the window illuminated your face, allowing him to watch the tension in your forehead release and your lips part in satisfaction.
he dipped his finger a little lower, teasing your entrance for just a second.. adding his pointer finger as he pressed them into you. you were always so reactive, so sensitive. your back arching off of his chest slightly.
using the arm that was underneath you, he adjusted himself to pull you back against him. pumping his fingers into you skillfully, curling them every few thrusts.
your breathing became heavy and a little unsteady, body wriggling against his from pleasure. mingyu hums softly, placing wet kisses along the side of your face, lips stopping at your ear to whisper a gentle “s’okay baby.. i’ve got you” as he increased the pace of his fingers.
as the tension in your belly began to build, your eyes fluttered open.. a hand reaching to grip his forearm. “fuck..” you whined, pressing your hips down to meet his movements.
mingyu smiled against your ear.. “there she is..” he muttered, shifting himself even closer to you as he became more brutal with his pace now that you were awake.
your grip on his forearm tightened, mirroring the band of fire stretching in your lower abdomen, signaling your impending climax.
clasping your fingers around his wrist that was setting an unrelenting pace on your dripping core, your mouth drops into an o shape, a high pitched gasp escaping before silence took over for a moment..
the only noise to be heard was mingyu’s quickened breath and your squelching pussy that was gripping his fingers even tighter than you were his wrist.
as you broke the silence with a anguished whine, mingyu wouldn’t let up. he couldn’t. he wanted more. he wanted to make you cum.. again and again.. and again.
“gyu, please.. i need more. i need you.. i need you to feel good.” you begged, turning to the best of your ability to look at him with teary eyes.
really..he felt great. watching you cum because of him was all he need. but he understood. you needed him. you wanted him.
mingyu searched your eyes, slowing down his movements before coming to a complete stop and pulling his fingers out.
despite asking him for more, you couldn’t help but whimper the loss of contact.. your hole clenching around nothing as it was desperate for more. for mingyu.
moving lazily, but skillfully.. mingyu pushes your underwear down, feeling you kick it off of your ankles beneath the blanket before following, pushing his boxers down and kicking them off the edge of the bed.
he quickly grabs your waist, needing to feel the heat of your skin. keeping you on your side, back pressed to his chest.. mingyu grabs your thigh, pulling it up and over his hip. you locked your foot behind his knee in a weak attempt to keep yourself grounded.
leaving open mouthed kisses along your neck, mingyu began to drag his tip through your drooling folds. sucking a breath in between his teeth, resulting in a quiet, hiss like noise that went straight to your core.
whining in impatient anticipation, you pushed your hips back against him, gasping when his tip bumped your clit.
mingyu felt hot. he felt like he was burning… that feeling worsening as he felt your warm, sopping cunt engulf him.. taking inch by inch of his painfully hard cock.. like it was made for him. molded for him.
a broken mewl escapes his throat, a hand sprawled against your thigh that was propped over his own. he speaks softly in your ear, voice laced with need.
“there ya go baby..” he exhales.. “shh.. s’okay, you’re taking me so well.. god.. you’re so warm sweetheart..” he practically coos, allowing you to adjust to his size. you’ll never get used to it.
when you started moving your own hips against him, he knew you were ready, hand dragging up your body to rest heavily against your throat.
pressing into you, the arm that was underneath your body adjusts to not only stop it from falling asleep, but to grip and paw at your closest breast.. underneath the fabric of the shirt you were still wearing.
the shirt has fallen off one of your shoulders, it’s bunched up around your waist. it’s pointless for it to be there, but neither of you care to remove it.
the room is filled with heavy, hot breaths and the pornographic sound of skin slapping as he repeatedly makes contact with your ass.
you’re dripping around him.. your thighs, his thighs, covered..so much skin is glistening with your arousal.
it’s loud, the squelching of your heat that is sucking him in so greedily.. your moans, whines and whimpers. his groans, grunts and mirroring whines.
“oh.. my pretty girl.. is that better? does my baby feel better? you needed me so bad” he starts, voice laced with an almost condescending hum “practically begging for me in your sleep”
you moaned out a broken sound that was more of a “ngh” than a reply, eyes fluttering closed as you were unable to keep them open any longer. you felt so good, too good.
gripping the forearm of the hand that laid against your neck, you felt yourself becoming dangerously close.. parting your lips to speak, to warn mingyu.. but nothing was coming out but breathy gasps..
mingyu’s pace is almost inhumane, his mind is clouded with the want and need for both of you to cum. hips snapping into yours as he chases both of your climaxes.
he takes note of your attempts to speak, hand snaking down for his fingers to find and circle your clit, your body reacting strongly to the added pressure. it’s almost too much.
“i know baby.. fuck.. are you gonna cum? hm?” he hums, kissing your exposed shoulder. “gonna cum for me pretty girl? gonna let me fill you up?” his tone is desperate, so desperate.. so whiny and overwhelmed. it’s only adding fuel to the fire that is erupting throughout your entire body.
pace unrelenting but becoming unsteady as he approaches his high, mingyu uses his pointer and middle finger to rub your clit until you’re practically exploding around him. a strangled moan echos in the room with the sinister sound of him fucking you so good as you reach back to grip his hip, back arching against his toned chest.
you see white as you cum, jaw dropping in a silent scream, fingers digging into the skin of his hip/ass. drool trickling down the side of your cheek, mixing with your tears that started to flow. you felt so good. so incredibly good.
mingyu whines, gripping your hip as he continues to pound your tightening, pulsating pussy.. mumbling praises as he closes in on his own high.
his bruising grip gets even tighter on your hip as he presses himself flush against your ass and body, painting your insides with hot, thick ropes of white.
hips stuttering against yours as he whimpers into your neck and shoulder, thrusting a few more times, riding out his high and pushing his cum even deeper into your warm heat.
you’re breath heavily, whining in overstimulation at his last few thrusts, your grip on him not letting up.
mingyu stills, leaving kisses on every inch of exposed skin he can reach. you stay like that for a while, catching your breath.. listening to mingyu’s sweet praises on how you’re so good to him, how pretty you are..
he pulls out with, slowly.. rubbing his length against your folds a few times to spread his cum all over you. chuckling when you whine again when he grazes your sensitive clit, attempting to move away from him.
you end your night with mingyu cleaning you up, giving you water and making you change your now sweat soiled shirt. he holds you, your body engulfed by his arms, head against his chest, your arms wrapped around him as he mumbles something about definitely needing to wash the sheets tomorrow morning before you both drift off into a comfortable sleep..
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straawberries · 4 months
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I AM GOING TO BE KICKED OUT IN 6 MONTHS AND I AM NOT MAKING MONEY FAST ENOUGH TO BE ABLE TO AVOID HOMELESSNESS
hey girls its me again. ill.. try to keep this brief? as brief as i can atleast.
if you havent seen my previous posts, hi, my name is delilah, im an autistic transgirl system with ptsd thats living in an abusive household where im barely fed and am constantly miserable, and to top it all off, the second my birthday hits on JUNE 1 2024, i am going to be kicked out. i want to make around $2000 dollars before then, but i only have about $350 right now. at my current rate, i wont be able to reach my goal, and i dont know how im going to get housing if i dont. to repeat in big text so people pay attention:
if i do not get about $1700 more in donations before june 1 2024, i am going to be homeless.
im trying.. really hard to not give up but its looking bleak. because i live in a small town in texas where everyone knows that im an autistic trans loser, ive been unable to get a job, and ive been forced to do this. i dont enjoy being forced to rely on other people's kindness, but its the best and atp really the only option i have.
C*SH*PP - @delilahswagga
P*YP*L - @delilahkill
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i make pixel art too! dm me if youre interested, i do most things including furries/anthros, humans, chibi/dolls, backgrounds and scenes, and small animations
a lot of scams claiming things like this have been going around, so ill talk about myself some. click the readmore if you want to read that.
i have a really big love for performing, i fell in love with theatre years ago and performed the addams family musical as fester about a month ago as my biggest role on stage yet, and right now im in the process of getting ready for antigone as teiresius. i love music, and its one of my life goals to learn as many instruments as possible, and currently i own quite a few, though my favorites are my two ukuleles and my super cool electric guitar. i have 8 partners at the moment, and i have a very big desire to one day live with as many of them as i can. i pride myself on being the best partner i can be, and its been my goal to make all my partner's lives better (and i think ive been doing a good job at it :3)
i love cats an extreme amount, ive never had a cat myself (because my dad is insane and hates cats and tries to hit cats with his truck) but being around cats makes me super happy and always makes my anxieties go away, even when im having an anxiety attack or a panic attack. i really hope i can get a few cats one day, and i want to give them all silly food names :) my fursona is kind of a reflection of that, her name is bagel. some cat names ive thought of are mochi, chili, Supreme Pizza, or maybe french fry :)
im not sure if ill be able to achieve any of my goals if i dont get the financial support i need. ive been.. really close to giving up recently, but i dont want to have to do that, so im going to fight like this for as long as i can.
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pandoraslxna · 1 year
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hiii omg i super fucking love ur step bro neteyam fic KALAMAKKAK the things it did to me 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 IM BEGGING for more  ゜・(x ω x)・゜。
Not good enough
Stepbro Neteyam x female Omaticaya reader
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Words: 3.7k
Summary: Neteyam isn’t happy about the future mate his parents have chosen for you. Afterall, no one can compare to him.
Warnings: explicit smut, minors dni, stepcest (they’re not related by blood, reader is adopted), jealousy, extreme possessive behavior, light degradation kink, praise kink, queue play(?), creampie, Neteyam and reader are adults!, princess treatment, fingering, p in v
Notes: this can be read as a stand alone as well as a prequel to 'three is always unfortunate' 🫶🏻
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Tarem was a good hunter and a well respected member of the omatikaya clan. Your stepparents were certain that he would make a good mate for you. And like the good and obedient daughter that you were, you agreed to anything your parents would ask for. You believed that they always knew what was best for you, and so you didn’t even doubt for one moment, that Tarem would be a good husband to you one day.
Neteyam on the other hand, was everything but happy about his parents pick. Truth be told, he wouldn’t approve any of his parents decisions regarding your future mate. He just didn’t believe that anyone was nearly good enough for his beloved stepsister. In his eyes, you were simply perfect and none of the men in his clan deserved to call you their mate. None of them were good enough for you.
So far, none of them had even dared to talk to you anyways –thanks to your big stepbrother of course. To everyone else, including his parents, he was just your overprotective brother and nobody dared to come in between you two.
Neteyam had always been a little more affectionate with you. If he could, he’d carry you around all day. He just loved to have you close, loved to show everyone else that you two were close. He would hug you whenever he could, he’d hold your hand or kiss your cheek, he would sneak inside your marui at night to cuddle with you and sometimes you did the same. He would even carry your stuff after you or do your chores, no matter how silly it may seemed because you were definitely capable of doing them on your own– but you wouldn’t need to lift a finger when he was around.
Neteyam was definitely a little possessive of you too. Whenever a man showed the slightest interest in you, whenever a man even dared to look in your direction– Neteyam was already standing behind you, scaring them away with only a glare.
But the future Tsahik would need a mate and since no one had dared to openly speak out their interest in you, your stepparents were left with no choice but to pick a mate for you themselves. Much to his annoyance. But he wouldn’t let just anyone come in between him and his favorite girl.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Neteyam had been looking for you all morning, since you didn’t show up at his marui at the usual time. It was a little ritual of you and him, that no matter how busy you two were, you would always make time for each other for at least an hour a day. An hour that was spend strictly with one another and nobody else. You would ride your ikrans together, go on a little hunt, explore the forest, take a swim or just sit and talk for a while. Whatever you wanted to do. In all of these years, since his parents had adopted you, neither of you had ever missed out on this.
Which is why it drove him absolutely insane to see, that the reason you were late today, was another man. Tarem. The man that his parents had chosen to become your mate. The thought alone made his stomach twist in a tight knot. Why him? You were way too good for that guy! Neteyam was sure that he wouldn’t be able to treat you as good as he did. He was your big brother, your protector. He spoiled you whenever he could, may it be through gifts, words or actions. Neteyam always made sure that you knew you were his precious little princess. You were his.
Whatever you two were talking about quickly comes to an end, once Neteyam lays his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side. Your face instantly lightens up when you see him, your big doe eyes looking up at him with so much love. "Neteyam, hey!", you greet him happily. But he wasn’t even looking at you. He was straight up glaring at the man standing in front of you both, with his ears flat against his head. He greets you with a small kiss to your temple, still glaring at that poor man. "I’ve been looking for my baby sister, thought you missed our date. Where have you been all morning, hm?" The eye contact he was holding with Tarem as he spoke was scary, yet you didn’t even realize. You somehow never realized when he did those things, blinded by the pure adoration and love you had for your older brother. "Oh, I’m so sorry 'Teyam. I’ve been talking to Tarem and totally forgot the time!" Neteyam knew you were speaking the truth. You would never lie to him.
Tarem swallows thickly, seemingly nervous before he greets your brother, "I see you, Neteyam. Great warrior, son of toruk makto and future olo’eyktan, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you."
"Save your breath", Neteyam quickly waves him off with a stern look on his face, "You’re not good enough for my little sister."
Almost immediately, your eyebrows furrow and you gasp, not used to your stepbrother being so unprovoked rude, "Neteyam!"
But before you can protest, he had already grabbed you by your upper arm and pulled you away, leaving a poor, dumbstruck Tarem behind.
Neteyam half marches and half carries you away from him, away from the village and to a lonely spot somewhere in the forest. It was rare to see him this angry, especially while you were near, which was why you‘d followed him without further questions or complains. But when he’d finally let your arm go, you couldn’t stay silent anymore.
"'Teyam, dad said—", you begin but your stepbrother was quick to interrupt you.
"I don’t care about what dad said. He’s not good enough for you. End of story." He was yelling at you and you can’t help the way your bottom lip begins to tremble. Neteyam had never yelled at you like this.
Once he realizes his mistake, he cups your face, his thumbs gently stroking over your cheeks. "Oh, cupcake don’t cry", he sighs, "I‘m sorry for yelling at you, I didn’t mean to."
"Are you mad at me?", you sniffle and Neteyam could feel his heart squeeze tight in his chest. He gives a small kiss to the tip of your nose before he reassures you, "I‘m not mad at you, I promise. But I don’t want you to spend any more time with that guy, okay? I don’t like him."
"But– But he’s supposed to become my mate! Dad said I should get to know him better before we—"
"So I‘m not enough for you?", he interrupts you again, "You have me, is your big bro not enough for you anymore?"
"You will always be enough for me, but…", you struggle to find the right words.
"But what? Why do you even need a mate when you have me? I can give you everything that he can and more. You don’t need him, he‘ll never be good enough for you anyways", he tells you and it sounded so desperate, like he was really scared to loose you to another man. Which was ridiculous, because you would always be his.
"‘Teyam, you know that’s not what this is about…", you sigh, leaning against the warm touch of his palms that were still holding your face.
"What? Because he can fuck you?", Neteyam scoffs and your eyes widen in shock, your cheeks instantly burning up in bright red. "Neteyam!"
"You think I can’t do that?", he tilts his head and some of his braids sway over his shoulder with the movement, "You think the only thing your big bro can’t give you is a good fuck and that’s why you’re so desperate to find yourself a mate, hm?"
Your mouth opens and closes, but no words seem to come out as you stare at him, dumbstruck. Neteyam looks at you, a smug grin on his face and it takes several seconds for you to gather your thoughts and form and coherent response. "T-That’s not what I meant!"
"Is it not?", he smiles as if he already knew the answer to it, "I know you better than you know yourself, sweetheart. I know everything about you. I know all your dirty little secrets, all the things you like and the things you don’t. I know that the name you whimper in your sleep isn’t his and you know damn well that he isn’t the one you want."
"That’s not true!", you protest, "Mum and dad have chosen him for me and, and—"
"Do you think he could even make you cum?" He was straight up teasing you now. He didn’t even try to hide it anymore, inching closer with every word. With every step that he took closer to you, you took a step back –until your back made contact with the trunk of a big tree.
"That guy couldn’t make you feel the way that I would, if you’d just gave me chance to proof it", Neteyams voice was low as he continued, "I could make you feel so good, baby. Just let your big brother show you how you’re supposed to be treated, yeah?"
You swallow thickly at his words and you don’t even mean to, but your gaze lands on his lips for just a split second and thats all he needed from you. He almost looses himself right there when he crashes his lips against yours. Your small arms wrap themselves around his neck and you desperately try to make yourself taller by standing on your tip toes, holding him as close as you can and he can’t help but chuckle against your lips. The kiss is soft at first, almost lovingly, but Neteyam‘s starving– starving for you. He barely gave you time to breathe before he was curling his tongue around yours. Your lips are smooth, warm and you taste so incredibly sweet that he groans into the kiss.
When Neteyam eventually breaks away, you mindlessly tried to chase his lips before your eyes fluttered open and you looked up at him, face flushed red, lips swollen and wet with salvia. You looked like a desperate mess, all for him and no one else. The sight alone was almost too much for him to handle.
His hands then slowly begin to untie your top, but when it falls to the ground, you instinctively cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to cover yourself. Your brother playfully tsks at that, "Don’t get shy on me now, pretty girl. There’s nothing I haven’t seen before anyways." And you know he was right. He had seen you naked countless of times, when you were swimming together or bathed in the river or when it was simply too hot to sleep with any clothes on.
Hesitantly, you lower your arms and expose your chest to him. A smile stretches over his lips at the sight of your soft looking breasts and he reaches out to touch and knead them. His thumb gently brushes over your nipple to pull these sweet little gasps out of you. The ones that he usually only heard when you were having those special kind of dreams or were touching yourself, without knowing that your stepbrother was just pretending to be asleep right next to you.
When he tugs on your nipple, you can’t help the moan fall from your parted lips and Neteyam could feel his cock throb at the sound. He then makes quick work getting rid of the only piece of clothing he wore, discarding his loincloth to the mossy forest floor. Your gaze instantly falls to his cock, standing hard and proud in the air. There was already a bead of pre-cum forming at the tip and you can’t help the way your mouth waters from just looking at it. Neteyam seems to realize that as well, now leaning in close so his lips were almost touching your ear as he spoke, "C‘mon, baby, touch it. It’s okay."
Carefully, you reach your hands out to touch his hard length. He‘s heavy in your palms, too big for you to entirely close your hands around it. You give him an experimental stroke, ever so slowly that his hips buck and you could feel it twitch in your hands. Neteyam grunts in pleasure. The friction of your soft palms was so pleasurable to him, that some of his pre-cum spilled over and dribbled down to land on your thigh. "Yeah just like that. See, I’m all hard for you", he whispers against the shell of your ear and you shudder, clenching your thighs together to gain some desperately needed friction yourself.
He buries his face in the crook of your neck, where your skin is so soft and he can’t help but kiss and suck on it, leaving dark purple marks for Tarem to see and hopefully make him never want to talk to you ever again.
"'Teyam", you really had the nerve to whimper his name like that, like a plea for him to do something– anything, whatever he’d like. You would take it all, he was sure of it. Because you were his good girl. The absolute best.
"What’s wrong, my precious baby sister, hm? Tell me what you want", he says with a grin on his face and your cheeks turn pink as you’re forced to word it out. "M-More, please. Want more…" It’s barely above a whisper but Neteyam knows. He would know what you need, even without words.
His fingers slip under the waistline of your loincloth and he pulls it down, leaving you completely exposed before him. Neteyam‘s eyes widen slightly and then his eyes are narrowing in on you, like a predator catching sight of its prey, as he took you all in. Your tail nervously sways from side to side as you squirm under his intense gaze.
"You’re so pretty, baby", he sighs, his eyes fixed on your core, "There’s no way anyone else will ever be allowed to see that cute little pussy of yours, except for me." He then reaches out and gently slides a finger through your folds, collecting your slickness and smearing it up to your clit, where he lazily rubs a few slow circles. Instantly, your hips jerk forward to meet his touch.
Knowing that he was the reason for the slickness between his stepsisters legs made Neteyam feel dizzy. At first you were subtle about it, but now you desperately tried to grind against his palm, tears pricking at your eyes when his touch isn't enough anymore.
Neteyam chuckles and closes his teeth around your earlobe, briefly. He’s careful with the sharp tips of his canine grazing across your skin and you shiver under his touch again.
He hisses when he finally slides a finger into your waiting cunt and you moan, so sweet that it makes his cock twitch in your palms. He swiftly adds another finger, his pace increasing as he brings you to a begging, tear-eyed mess. The sound of your whines and moans start to increase in volume, your hands leaving his cock to find leverage on his arms. He adds his thumb to draw tight circles on the tiny pearl between your folds and instantly, he feels your knees buckle.
With a sound somewhere between a laugh and a purr, he curves his fingers a little more and thrusts them faster, matching the rhythm of his thumb until you’re moaning his name like a prayer.
"See how good I can make you feel? You think Tarem could do that?", he asks rhetorically and with a smug grin on his face. He could feel that you were close, your spongy walls pulling his digits further in and then he flicks his thumb one last time and you falls apart with a silent scream. "There you go, my sweet girl", he encourages and holds you firm against the tree trunk when your legs finally give out, "That’s it. Feels so fucking good right? Hm I bet it does, can feel you squeeze my fingers." You can only nod your head at that, face flushed and teeth biting into your lower lip to prevent yourself from being too loud.
He then slides his fingers out of you, in awe of the strings of slick connecting them. Your legs feel like jelly and you have to stable yourself on his forearms, your breathing still rapid from your orgasm. Neteyam leans forward to whisper lowly in your ear, "I‘m gonna make you feel even better now, would you like that? You’re gonna let your big bro fuck you?"
"Y-Yes", you splutter, a little ashamed that you answered him so quickly, "Please 'Teyam, I need it so bad."
"I know, baby, I know", he chuckles lightly.
His hands blindly find the underside of your knees and then he lifts you off the ground. You clutch to him, your arms thrown around his neck and legs instinctively wrapped around Neteyam’s middle. Like this, you could already feel the thick head of his cock prodding against your slick entrance. With both hands on your bottom, he carefully sinks you down on his length. He presses himself past your tight opening and further inside and relishes in the obscene sounds that you make. He let’s you whine at the stretch, moan with the effort of taking his cock and sweat beading on your forehead. "You’re so tight. Fuck– but you’re taking me so well, like you were made for me. That cute little pussy was made to take my cock, just mine and no one else’s", he moans once he has fully bottomed out.
Your stepbrother fucks you in shallow thrusts at first. Three inches in before he draws all the way out. You cling to his shoulders, your thighs framing his hips. It’s just moans and heavy breathing and the sound of flesh against flesh echoing through the forest for a while.
Vaguely, you feel yourself leak more and more of your slickness and your body welcomes him with every stroke. Snapping his hips forward, you moan out loud. Each pounding thrust he gives you knocks the very air from your lungs and you can feel yourself tightening even more. He slowly begins to set up a brutal rhythm, pistoning in and out of your body roughly, the tip of his cock pressing against your g-spot at just the right angle.
"'Teyam, feel’s so good, you’re gonna make me cum", you brabble out between high pitched moans. Hearing you call his name like that when you were squeezing him so tight had awakened a very primal part of him. Neteyam wants to mark you, to claim you, and so he reaches behind your back, feeling for your braided hair. With your tswin in hand, he presents those tiny, pinkish tendrils in front of your face. Your eyes widen when he sticks his salvia covered tongue out, teasing to touch them. "N-No, not there it’s— ah!", you squeak when he actually does, your tendrils making contact with that warm, wet muscle and it felt like he was actually fucking your brain out now. Simultaneously, his cock thrusts up into you and you choke on a moan. "Yes, yes right– right there, right there", you could feel that familiar, addicting, tension building up in your core and like the teasing big brother that he was, Neteyam chuckles.
He retreats his tongue, but swiftly moves to grab his own tswin and holds both of their ends close together. The tips of your tendrils dare to touch at any second and you’re too lost in your own pleasure to even think about the consequences. The coil in your stomach tightens dangerously, prompting you to curl your toes while he presses you harder against the tree. Your back stings from the friction of your soft skin against the rough bark, but you’re far too fucked out to care.
"Where, baby? Right here?", Neteyam thrusts up in you particularly hard and— he connects them, forming the tsaheylu bond.
Neteyam watches your eyes roll back into your head, your mind completely overcome by the sensations coursing through your body that you’re unable to respond to him with words, while his own eyes dilate. Both of you were now feeling not only your own, but also the other ones pleasure. And that’s enough to finally drive you over the edge. You cum with a sound that’s a mixture between a sob and a moan and your arms around him tighten enough to make him unable to breathe for a few seconds.
"Holy shit", Neteyam groans as he continues to pound into you, unable to think of anything else asides from the way your walls tighten around his throbbing cock. "Gonna cum inside you. Can’t hold back, I just need to fill you up, gonna fuck my cum into you and— ah shit!" He plunges into you, one, two, three more times and then follows you, coming with a groan of your name, his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. He fills you with his cum, all the way to the hilt and he could literally feel you feel it, thanks to the tsaheylu bond connecting you both.
He shivers once he has pumped the last bit of his pleasure into you, feeling it leak around his cock and dribble down his balls.
"Fuck", Neteyam exhales a shaky breath, once’s he’s able to form articulated words again, "You better keep it in there, pretty girl. Want you to walk back to Tarem with my cum dripping down your legs and tell him to fuck off, understand?"
You could only hum in agreement, a tired sigh leaving your lips as you continued to cling to him, relishing in the warmth and comfort of his body as he held you close.
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hana-no-seiiki · 1 month
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Hi! Could I be ✨Anon? (Im not sure whats been taken already) I've been on a big Batfam kick these past few days and have a v indulgent request if it interests you.
Could I request something for a (gn) civilian reader who is friends w/ the Batfam, but recently got superpowers that are magical girl-esque? Neither of the parties knowing of the others Alter Egos. Here are some of my thought, but write the post however you'd like.
Reader was accidentally caught up in some commotion that involved stealing specialty cargo. One of them being an alien artifact, and reader uses it in desperation to save themselves. But now they have these sparkely, pretty, and showy powers that they never asked for. (And maybe a magical animal companion that insist they bring light and justice to Gotham)
Reader is reluctant to be a vigilante, but keeps finding themselves in situations to help people anyways.(Maybe its a side effect of being a magical girl) They end up fighting alongside the Batfam at some point, but they feel embarrassed to interact w/ them. Reader feels completely out of place with their colorful and over-the-top powers when next to the cool and brooding batfam.
Sorry if this idea is a bit out there, but ty for letting me be indulgent in your ask box 💕!!
NO CAUSE I FEEL THIS DYNAMIC SO MUCH.
I either have the friendliest vibe or the bitchiest vibe and no in between. Meaning that people either come to me for everything or think I’m a snob/will bite-
and sure non! i don’t really keep track of my anons nowadays so people can be whatever as long as it’s not listed in my pinned
BAT X MAGIC ✨
IN ANY CASE
I’m gonna mix Sailor Moon, Miraculous Ladybug and Onimai for my inspo with this ask if you don’t mind
Magical Girl/Boy/Person! Reader is really close friends with Tim and Damian. If there was one thing all three could agree on it’s that they loved superheroes in manga/comics.
And Reader? Boy did they adore the Batfam. There was just something about their dark, brooding aesthetic that they couldn’t get enough of.
So it was a tad bit ironic that they stumbled upon the most “girly”and “bright” power ever known to Gotham.
It didn’t help that your abilities had to be activated with cutely yelling things like “Sparkle Blast!” or “Smile Hurricane!”
I like to headcannon that you have a familiar or Kwami like creature that in exchange of keeping your identity magically hidden, absolutely bullies you by making the one above a requirement.
I headcannon that Damian has the PHATTEST crush on you. Like even moreso than the stalker, otaku Tim. Like he is just head over heels. You’re strong, you’re capable, you’re adorable?? But that mostly extends to just your magic persona rather than your real self. He’s super obvious about it to anyone but you too (similar to the og miraculous ladybug w/ felix instead of chat).
Tim is more interested on who tf you were. Like yes!!! Magical Person Hero!!! You were basically his childhood crushes incarnate!! But his inquisitive mind really needed to know who you were in order to calm himself down.
Jason is honestly a bit overwhelmed by your whole getup, but grows to love you the most in terms of how kind you are and how you help them even in the most dire of situations (not knowing that you were basically forced to)
He’s very much Tuxedo Mask type wherein he’d be very annoying to you when the disguises are off but an absolute Casanova with em on.
You and Dick are the most close when it comes to patrols and fighting. I feel like you, being the big fan you were, would make him look even more flashy and handsome during battle with sparkles and whatnot. I have a feeling he’d be the first to ask you out or fully romance you, as well as be the first to befriend you/contact you as a vigilante.
Bruce is definitely perplexed by how you always evade him in terms of your secret identity. It frustrates him to no end that whenever he gets close to finding out something either gets in his way or his mind just goes blank.
Once you explain how your magical persona works tho he’s pretty quick on the bandwagon, especially since he sees that his boys love you.
Also cause you look way too adorable to really be heinous.
…Right?
Once you break one of your familiar’s rules though, they do share your identity with the bats and well…
All hell breaks loose.
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leighsartworks216 · 7 months
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Hello!! I love your writing a lot and Im sorry if you've written something similar before but I just think a quieter Tav who would gently tug on Astarion's sleeve or shirt everytime they need help with a lock or a trap would be super cute. It would be super light and gentle tugs or taps to his shoulder, nothing forceful or hurtful. In exchange for his help they would let him have first pick of whatever is inside. Tav thinks he agreed to help because he gets a cut of the rewards, and that is true, but mostly because he's more fond of Tav than they know and he likes the way they smile and look at him when he helps - worth far more than the treasure inside any chest or room.
Thank you for sharing your writing! ❤️❤️❤️
This one feels super short to me but I still think it's pretty cute
Warnings: none
Word Count: 572
Masterlist
AO3
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Astarion couldn’t quite recall when it started. He remembers that you were cagey around him - around everyone, for that matter. Always so quiet, never speaking unless you absolutely had to. He’d tag along with you while you explored, and when you needed his lockpicking expertise, you’d call for him. Even if it was barely a whisper, his sensitive ears picked up on it and he came sauntering to your aid.
It evolved, rather quickly, he thinks. You stopped calling for him in favor of tapping against metal or knocking on wood, calling his attention to your location. It was especially effective over long distances, if you’d ended up wandering off.
And then it evolved further. This time it was mostly on his part. He decided once to stay nearby, search the rooms with you, looking for anything you may have looked over. But when you needed his help, you didn’t knock, you tapped on his shoulder. Admittedly, it startled him at first. Your footsteps were so quiet he didn’t hear you coming up behind him. Somehow, despite the efficiency of knocking, this was how you continued to get his attention.
You tugged on his sleeve, tapped on his arm - always gentle. That, too, formed its own little code. You tugged when there was a trap ahead, telling him without words to be careful. You would tap when you found a locked door or chest, or even just to get his opinion on something.
It was… endearing. The rest of the group would wander on ahead, exploring for themselves, and he stayed by your side the whole time. He wrote it off, of course, claiming he didn’t want you to strain your voice for his sake, but it became much more than that. And even though you always compensated him for his trouble (First dibs on treasure had earned him a few lucky finds, things that the others sure would have liked for themselves.), he found a greater treasure in your smile. In the way your eyes lit up at a particularly interesting discovery.
-
You tapped on his arm excitedly before you ran to a door. It was old and rusty, but not rusted enough to break through the lock keeping it in place. You tugged on the door handle and turned to him with such glee. He could hear your heart racing with anticipation.
“And what do you hope to find in there, darling?” he teased as he pulled out his lockpicks and got to work. He could see you shrug from the corner of your eyes. “Well, if all that’s in here is a skeleton, I’m afraid I’ll have to pass on claiming my reward.”
You nudged his shoulder playfully. He had a hard time keeping a smile off his face. With a few clicks and a very stubborn turn, the door unlocked. He stepped back before you could barrel him over.
The room was dark, with small reflections of light off metal catching your attention. It was probably gold or weapons or something worth the effort. But he couldn’t tear his eyes from you. Your child-like enthusiasm as you rushed inside to grab anything good, bright-eyed and smiling. If he could see his face, he’d see just how fond he looked at them - the gentle smile that came unbidden to his lips; the softness of his eyes, full of adoration and affection.
Yes, he thought, this was the best reward.
---
Tag List:
@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @lynnlovesloki @aurasyn @furblrwurblr
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koiiiiijiii · 3 months
Text
windbreaker characters & their possible love trope (part 1)
warnings : no in general, maybe a ooc, but its my point of view, fluff
recommend : to turn on Lana Del Ray - West Coast
୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀
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Dom - arranged marrige. we take into account the fact that Dom is the heir of the yakuza. His father had long dreamed of the idea of uniting the two clans to expand the business, strengthen the position, and in general he was very close with the head of another clan, you know the type of male friendship when they brag about who has the coolest car and everything like that. (for about the same reason, you and Dom have an age difference of a couple of months) In general, when you were born, your fathers did not immediately decide that this would be a planned marriage, they still wanted freedom of choice for their children, but the two old men were too fascinated when you and Dom played together in the sandbox, or you two shared toys, and overall you got along great as babies. But as the years passed, interests changed, and from about 2-3 grades you began to have a "crisis in relationships", Dom were more interested in the "boyish" things, you in turn discovered the Internet and the charms of fictional characters (real footage of all of us). Therefore, your communication has gone from about infantile sympathy to childish antipathy when boys say "eeew girls, im not interested in them" and to the complete cessation of communication over the years. Well, your fathers also almost lost hope, trying to try on two fifth graders at holiday feasts, but everything ended up making faces at each other, and Dom’s first showed middle finger and yours first obscene phrases in response to him (later you both received a cradle from your parents) but the decision had already been made, and so everyone decided to just wait.
In fact, everything happened spontaneously. As it happens, girls grow faster, and there were no exceptions with you. So since you saw each other less often, Dom did not immediately recognize you, and of course refused to admit to himself that he liked you, and he decided to shove this sympathy away. A couple more years have passed, and you again super accidentally (no) met at one of your parents' clubs. This time it was your turn not to recognize Dom. And when you realized in the morning whose house you were in, you were shocked. So it tooks you two another 1-2 years to actually accept that planned things needed to be done and the idea of marriage in the first place wasn’t that bad.
Owen - forbidden love/ rivals/ competitors. While you honestly believed that your boiling hate for each other was mutual, Owen found it quite cute and intriguing how each time you trying to compete with him and how mad you get if you lose or if he jokingly flirts with you. Of course, he found you quite an interesting opponent, but you attracted him more as a girl, although it was still difficult because of your rival teams, and as Camila once told him when she noticed how he was staring at you at another training session, where he came intentionally before the rest of the Light Cavalry participants, "This won't be good for the image of our team." Usually you see him in training center, when your team finishes training, or when you wait for Light Cavalry to finish, or on the competitions and it always ends with your threatenings to his life or his bike. Of course you didn’t mean it so serious, it was kinda like tradition - he always so nice and jokes around while you all loud and screaming at him for his flirting lines.
Usually, you two never see each other somewhere in the city or on the streets, apparently you lived in different areas and everyday affairs were too different from each other, but somehow, now, almost at 11 pm, you look at each other in surprise, standing in the park, where both of you came to practice and free your heads from burdened thoughts. Owen wanted to break the awkward silence by greeting you, but you beat him to it by sternly asking “What are you doing here?” He smiled softly and running his hand through his hair, as he replied “I came here just to clear my head before sleep, shortcake. I hadn’t any intentions to interrupt you.” And looking up at you again, he smiled so sweetly, in his usual manner. You clicked irritably and went to meet him, “Then, since you're already here, let's have a race, and the loser is looking for another park, deal?” Again, she frowned so sweetly at her eyebrows, just the very seriousness - Owen thought to himself looking down at you from his height. Like all the smartest, the idea was certainly not bad, you even thought at the moment that you were about to win, because the agreed finish was already around the corner, when suddenly Owen jumped out from behind you and did a risky trick that allowed him to get ahead. But unfortunately, either out of surprise or confusion, you lost control and collapsed almost at the finish line. Your speed was decent, and your knees, shoulders and arms had a hard time now, all bleeding. Slowly rising from the ground, you felt such resentment and at the same time anger, either at yourself or at Owen. And all such a seething feeling of resentment, because of such a small mistake, to lose at the very finish, overwhelmed you with your head, and flowed out with tears from your eyes. You sat down by your fallen bike, hugged your bleeding knees and buried your forehead in them letting yourself cry. Suddenly you felt someone stroking your head and sitting down next to you, putting his hands on your shoulders. Looking up, as you expected, you saw Owen, and shrugged your shoulders and squeal at him “Get the fuck away from me! I don’t need your pity and help!” “Hey, hey, easy shortcake, im not a monster to let girl, who is also injured, be alone in park at night.” He tried to take you by the shoulders again. “I said get away!” You clearly didn’t planned to stop crying, and Owen understood that you’ll have a tantrum in a moment, so he decided to ignore your screams and pulled you closer, already hugging you completely. Of course, you didn't appreciate this gesture, you started pounding him in the chest with your fists, shouting for him to let go, for you to try again, that this time you would definitely defeat him and in general how much you dislike him. And Owen just held you tight, and let your screams and crying be drowned out in his sweater. After a couple of minutes, you were just crying into his chest while he pulled you closer, sat you down between his legs and just gently stroked your back.
When you finally calmed down and raised your tear-stained, red eyes to him, Owen gently put his hand on your cheek and quietly asked, “Well, have you calmed down? Will you let me help you now, shortcake?” taking a confused look away from him and blushing, you said, “If anyone finds out about this, you're finished, got it?” Owen laughed loudly and pulled you closer to him, and dropping his free hand on your cheek, gently kissed you.
Harry - hate/love or sunny/grumpy. Even ignoring the fact that you’ve been in the same team, he somehow never liked you. Honestly, he didnt even know the reason. You had such a bright personality, always nice to people around and guys in team,but still defended your interests and borders when it was necessary. Harry just couldn’t stand you. In his eyes you were quite ideal, he even accepted that you were kinda powerful at cycling. But most blood boiling fact about you were that Harry knew perfectly - he had a thing for you, but he decided for himself to hide it under mask of indifference and disinterest, because come on, feelings make you weak (such a men moment)
But the other thing about you that Harry absolutely couldn’t stand - is your tears. He saw it only twice, once when it was your first year with the Light Cavalry, the team came to wish you a happy birthday right at 12 a.m., and you burst into tears from the joy and sweetness of this act of attention. And the other time was when Harry himself brought you to tears, because you chewed his brains all day. He think that sometimes you have a bad habit activated, walking around and teasing him all day, offering to compete in something, and just dripping on his brain, because you probably have a pleasure to bring him to a white heat. And when he couldn't stand it one more time, he turned sharply at you and barked - "Are you a complete idiot? I think I told you to fuck off from me, leave me alone and go fuck someone else's brains out. How many times can I tell you, I don't intend to compete with someone like you," - and Harry took care to squeeze the word "like" like poison into your mind. And fortunately for him, as he convinced himself, you stopped bothering him after that time and resorted to communicating with him only in the most necessary cases. So for the first few days he liked how you avoided him, but after a week and a half of your absence from his daily life, he began to feel sad and guilty for being harsh with you... But wasn’t it your own fault!? That's right, it was your fault. But didn't he like your attention? Wasn't he warmed by the rays of your warmth?.. Damn, all these thoughts were difficult for Harry, and he did it easier - he left training earlier, stopped by the store on the way, bought a random gift that reminded him of you, went to your house and waited for you at the entrance to the house. To say less, you were shocked when you saw him near the building were you live, but decided to act all cool and just to pass by. He didn’t let you. Harry grabbed your elbow, but you tried to pull away, he turned you around to face him and grabbed your other elbow. “Let me go, you creep!!” You could feel how tears forming in your eyes. You didn’t understand why he even came here, he supposed to be in other place, he supposed to hate you, he supposed… “For the fuck sake just shut up and take it.” He handed you a gift. You were confused and looked up at him with an obvious question “why?” in your pretty eyes. Harry clicked tongue, left your elbows and started to walk away. When you softly mumbled “Thank you” he turned around and quickly closing the distance, he awkwardly hugged you. For the first few seconds you freaked out, but gave up and hugged him back and mumbled "You idiot" in his hoodie. Harry chuckled at your comment and squeezed your back harder "At least im not a crybaby as someone". He got a reminder that you can kick his knees pretty hard.
Hwangyeon - school crush. You were quite popular girl from his class - moderately smart, kind, but not enough to take advantage of your kindness, beautiful and friendly person in general. The fact that Hwang tried to get your attention by his money flex, “cool” - as he thought - actions towards other people in school, where so obvious, as the fact that he liked you. But you weren’t impressed by his shitty personality and usually you treated him coldly or mocked him about he is trying to assert himself at the expense of others. Was he mad at you for that? No, of course, he melted like butter in a hot frying pan from every second of your attention, and bragging to his boys that you two had “conversation”.
Actually his friends, everyone around and mainly Sangho were tired of Hwang’s whinings at home and he told him what to do. So here he is, standing in doors of your class begging you to help him with his english class. Since he asked you nicely and promised not to mock students as long as you help him, you agreed to tutor him for some topics that he couldn’t understand. So with time you two became a little bit closer and you even been in his place and know Hwang’s siblings. (both of them thought that he is paying you to be his friend*) In the midst of one of these preparations Hwangyeon was whining about how he didn’t understand anything and probably won’t pass this exam. You hated the fact that he was giving up fast and easy, but luckily you knew how to motivate this guy. In a second, you grabbed his cheeks with both hands, turned his head towards you and said “Listen, we’ve been preparing for this for so long and you gonna drop everything because of small misunderstanding? I already wanted to take you out for ice cream if you wrote this test better than the guy who sits behind me at school, but since you've already given up, well, I guess i’ll have to go with him instead.” you said slowly letting his cheeks go. Hwang took your hand, to let it stay on his cheek and rise his eyes up on you and with dead serious eyes muttered “If my score will be higher than 75%, we will go for that ice cream.” You smiled at him and said that it is deal.
Spoiler : his score was 68% his friends and you laughed at him for his bragging before exam, but you still took him to that ice cream shop and kissed his cheek for a good bye.
*bonus
its been quite long preparation session for english final exam before summer weekends, so you decided to continue at Hwang’s place. it wasn’t your first time visiting his place, maybe third or fourth, so his siblings already knew you, when you enter the house. you greeted everyone, warned them that you would be preparing for the exam and went to Hwang’s room. after few hours of studying you were tired of punching and shouting at your friend so you left the room for glass of juice and in the dim light of the kitchen you met Sangho with his laptop and glass of something probably alcoholic. you stare at each other for a second and you awkwardly announced that you came for pack of juice that two of you left in fridge. Sangho mumbled something softly and turned back to his laptop, when you were about to leave the room he raised his eyes from laptop again and asked in serious voice “did he pay you?”
you froze in place you were standing and on stiff legs, turning to him. “mhmm?”
“did my brother pay you to pretend to be his friend or whatever you two are?”
“n-no? he just asked me for help, t-that’s why im here!” he grunted something like okay and went back to his laptop. when door after you closed, Aria got out from behind the sofa and held out her hand to her brother. Sangho, in turn, pulled a banknote out of his pocket and gave it to his sister without a word.
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luvyeni · 11 months
Note
heeseung smut + super shy reader 🤭🤭??
JERSEY ; LEE HEESEUNG
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pairings. basketballplayer!heeseung x shy!reader
wc. 2.1k+
warnings. oral (f. receiving) , protected sex (wow crazy) , dirty talk, kinda pervy heeseung,
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i hope you like it <3 !
heeseung loves seeing you in his jersey.
"you hate basketball." you maneuvered your way to your seats , your friend right in front of you. "i do , but i like jake sim more." she pointed to the boy who was currently on the court floor. "way way more." you shook your head , your friend had been obsessed with the basketball player since freshmen year , and when he finally started to show interest in her , she did everything she could to please him , including coming to his basketball games.
"i have to support him , you know how happy he gets when i come to his game." you didn't have a have a problem with jake , in fact he was actually really nice to her — you just hated basketball. "well heeseung is playing tonight , see." your face heated up just at the mention of the boys name. "i see that smile , im not blind , you should talk to him." you rolled your eyes. "like hell , i wouldn't even be able to talk to someone like him." you watched the boy pass the ball to the other player. "well jake told me that he talked about you." she said. "he wondered why you never talked." it wasn't that you never talked — you just couldn't talk to him , everytime you tried to nothing came out.
you ignored your friend , focusing on the game — well more so heeseung. he was ethereal , you've never been a fan of sweat , but he was just so sexy , and the way he played basketball. your heart damn near dropped to your ass when he made direct eye contact with you , quickly turning away , you didn't notice his smile before he turned back to the game.
all throughout the game , he'd constantly look your way , smiling at you before making a basket , smiling when you'd shy away , trying not to smile to yourself. soon the game was over , and your bestfriend was dragging you towards the court. "god it's like he can't make a basket without looking to you first." your friend said , you shook your head , waving her off. "stop saying nonsense." you scoffed. "and where are we going?" she pointed to the two boys walking towards you. "jake!" your friend jumped into the boys arms. "good game , im so proud of you." she kissed his cheek. "thank you baby." the boy said. "hey y/n." you waved. "hi jake."
"you know heeseung right?" he looked better up close , his body towering over yours , looking down at you , smiling. you nodded , unable to speak properly. "she's in a few of my classes , she sits way in the back." your face heated up. "she's a bit shy." your friend slapped your arm. "say something." you wanted to curse her out. "h-hi." you wanted to crawl into a hole and die. "nice y/n , nice." your friend sighed.
"we're gonna head back to our apartment , you girls down?" jake held on to the girls waist. "of course." you turned to your friend — who was too excited for your liking. "we are?" you said. "yes , we are." she gave you her best puppy dog eyes , she knew you couldn't resist it. "i-i guess , sure." she clapped excitedly , pulling jake away to the car. "you coming?" heeseung waited for you. "o-oh yeah." you followed behind him , he still made sure to walk slow so you wouldn't get left behind.
you climbed into the back seat of jakes car , heeseung climbed in the back, sitting down right next to you , his thigh touching yours sitting his gym bag on the side. "i hope you don't mind , but she looked like she was ready to fight me over the front seat so." your giggle , made him smile. "i finally got you to laugh." your heart was about to beat out of your chest , you turned to look out the window.
heeseung watched you out the corner of his eye , the way you fidgeted with your fingers , he thought you were so cute , he'd notice the way you'd always run away whenever he was in the vicinity , keeping your head down , smiling to yourself whenever he'd look at you , you did nothing to hide your crush on him , even though he didn't mind.
he could feel your leg shake with nerves. your skirt riding up just a bit , he wanted to so desperately squeeze your thigh , he wondered if you'd make a noise , he would love to hear it. "we're here." jake parked the car , knocking both of you out your thoughts. he let you get out first , taking a peek of your ass , before climbing out of the car , gym bag in his hand. you guys made it to their shared apartment , making your ways to the livingroom.
"you guys want drinks we have beer?" jake said. "y/n doesn't drink beer." your friend answered for you. "oh well there's sodas , but those are heeseung's and he doesn't like- she can have one." heeseung quickly spoke up. "you never let anyone drink your sodas." jake said , your friend sneakily wiggled your eyebrows , that made your little heart jump. "it's fine , she can have one." he sat down couch , next to the chair you were sitting in. "you must be really special." jake handed you the soda , sitting down next to your friend , heeseung's face turned red.
you guys ordered some food , turning on a random movie while you ate , and you listened to them talk , occasionally nodding when they talked to you. it eventually slowed down , and it became silent while you guys watched the movie. "hey." heeseung whispered , leaning into you. "hi." you said. "this movie is boring , did they even check to see what they were putting on?" you turned to the couple , they weren't even paying attention to the movie , they were two wrapped up into each other.
"i don't even think they recognize that we're still here." he laughed. "how about we go watch one in my room." was he serious ? in his room? alone? you could barely stand it when his leg simply touched yours , you don't know how you were gonna survive being alone in his room. "s-sure." you managed to get out. "okay , let's go." he held his hand out , helping you up. "t-thanks." you went to tell your friend , but she was already looking urging you to go.
he held your hand , guiding you to his room. "here it is." he opened the door , letting you in. "i cleaned it this morning so." you walked in , sitting down on the edge of his bed. "your room is nice." you don't even know why you said that , his room was pretty basic. "really?" he laughed , sitting next to you. "it seems pretty plain." he was so close , you could smell his scent. you looked around , your eyes coming into contact to most interesting thing in his room, his basketball jersey.
"try it on." he said , your eyes went wide. "it-it's fine." he stood up , picking up the shirt. "come on , i want to see you in it." he handed it to you. "i bet you would look really nice." you hesitantly stood up , taking the shirt from his hand. "go on." you put the shirt on , it fell past your legs , covering your skirt. his brain short circuited for a minute , you looked so cute in his shirt , it looked like you were wearing his shirt and nothing else. it made his mind wonder to a dirty place , how you'd look if he fucked you in his jersey , his cock stirring in his sweats. "d-does it look okay?" god you looked so cute , he just want to pounce on you , and ravish you.
"you look really good." the change in his voice made you feel something in your stomach. "so good actually." he stalked you , you stepped back as reflex , falling on to his bed. "i'm trying my best , i really am." he said. "but you look so cute , i can't stand it." your heart was racing , you swore he could hear it , he leaned down , grabbing your face , pulling you into a kiss — it was your first kiss , but it was surely the best kiss. he pulled away , his thumb tracing your bottom lip.
"did you like that?" he smirked , you nodded. "you want another?" you nodded , he sucked his teeth. "sorry babygirl , but you gotta sure your words this time." he watched you open and shut your mouth , trying to get your words out. "come on , you got it princess , you want another kiss right" he encouraged you. "y-yes , please." he smiled , his cock hardening even more. "good girl." he leaned in , kissing you again , this time much longer.
he tapped your thighs , signaling you to move further up the bed , climbing on top of you. you couldn't believe this was happening , you felt like you were in a dream , there was no way you were making out with lee heeseung in his bedroom. "so cute , been wanting to touch you ever since we were in the car." he kissed your neck , leaving little marks. "those cute legs , wondered how the felt wrapped around my head." you whimpered. "you sound so pretty , would you like that , for me to eat your pretty pussy?" his dirty words making your panties soaked.
"words baby." he unbuttoned your skirt , pulling it down slowly. "say it , tell me you want me to eat your pussy." he hovered above your clothed heat. "p-please." was all you could get out. "please what ? gotta tell me what you want." he was messing with you. "w-wan y-you to e-eat me out." you were so shocked hearing those words come out of your mouth. "good girl." he kissed your cunt , pulling your pants down. "fuck , you're so wet." he groaned , kissing your thighs. "pl-please heeseung." you whimpered.
"you gotta keep quiet for me , don't want them to hear those pretty noises." he licked a strip up your clit. "so sweet , like candy baby." he licked and slurped up your juices. "hee-heeseung." you bit your lip , trying to hide your moans. his nose bumped against your clit , sticking his tongue into your hole. "fe-feels so good." you soft moans and whimpers were music to his ears , he tried his best not to grind against his bed , but you were making it so hard. "hee-heeseung , im gonna-" you could barely get the words outs , before you were wrapping your legs around his head , your heels digging into his back as you came on his tongue.
he lapped up the mess you made , finally coming up for air , his lips wet from your essence , hair messy and his eyes blown out. "you made such a mess." he wiped his mouth , getting up untying the string from his sweatpants , his cock bulging against his underwear. "i want you to keep the shirt on." he grinded his budgle against your cunt. "wanna make you cum on my cock in it." he pulled his cock out , reaching over to pull out a condom , stroking his cock , putting the condom on.
"you ready?" he grabbed the base of his cock , pushing his tip at your entrance. "y-yes." you whimpered. "good girl , using your words." sliding into your hole. "oh f-fuck you're so tight." his eyes closed , your cunt was gripping his cock like vice. "fuck baby , you squeezing my dick." he pulled out slowly , pushing back in , his cock stretching you out once again , before he began to slowly rock his hips into you.
"taking my fat cock like such a good girl." you covered your face in embarrassment , he chuckled , grabbing your wrists , holding them down as he fucked into you. "no don't hide your pretty face , let me see how fucked out you are." he speed up his movements. "hee-heeseung." you clenched around his cock. "sh-shit baby , you feel so fucking good." he grunted.
"heeseung m'gonna cum." he rubbed your clit , hitting your spot over and over. "you're so vocal now -shit-" he said. "where'd my shy baby go , you're gonna cum , cum for me pretty." you wrapped your legs around his waist , clenching tightly around him , your thighs shaking as you came. "fu-fuck , fuck im cumming." he moaned , his thrust getting sloppier as he came into the condom. "shit." he pressed his forehead against yours , heavily breathing.
"you okay? i'm gonna pull out now." you nodded , he slowly pulled out , discarding the condom. "keep my jersey on , you look so good." hey layed down next to you. "want you to wear it all the time , even to my games." he pulled you close tucking you under his arm. "your games?" you questioned. "of course , you won't come support me?" he pouted , you smiled. "s-sure." you said. "good i look forward to seeing you in my jersey in the crowd." he kissed your forehead.
"and fucking you in the gym showers afterwards."
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©️LUVYENI
1K notes · View notes
tiyoin · 1 month
Note
Now I'm thinking about twisted anxiety reader being able to sing really well. I feel like there could be some very interesting/funny moments (4 us not reader).
Reader probably only sings in a reclusive area like a forest around the dorm
I wanna say that the forest already has haunting rumors about it ,and when someone (jade or rook) hears reader singing they think that the "ghost" is up and active again. So students start doing a "test of courage" type thing.
I put Jade or Rook being the one to hear reader cuz they're really the only ones that would really be in that area without a reason.
I also know they're intelligent enough to know it's not a ghost ,but start the rumor anyways cuz they want to know who's singing. And it becomes this big thing the school trying to figure out.
Cut to reader losing her mind cuz she like "wow, I didn't know people thought it was that bad. How am I supposed to live, laugh, love ever again??"
When in reality they were just memorized by reader's singing. And they really want to find out who it is.
Bonus points if they film it and sent it to the group chat you posted about earlier. And reader just has to be like 🧍‍♀️ "whattt???? No way!! 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ a random voice in the woods 😱😱"
I'm sorry for sending 2 long asks back 2 back ,but twisted anxiety just gets my head going.
Also if you don't like being sent stuff like this just tell me and I won't send any more. I don't want to over step at all. These are just like head cannons I give to reader ,cuz I just love making things worse for her. Can't let her know what peace is
YOU
hOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET IN MY HEAD 🫵
i’m going to give you the fattest smooch alive you don’t understand. AND I LOVE IT WHEN I GET LONG ASKS!!! so please! ask away i don’t mind, i actually get really flattered that people want to share with me their long, detailed thoughts !! i was actually nervous people wouldn’t like my long responses 😖
no cause that’s ALWAYS one troupe i ALWAYS go back to.
i was thinking about making them a singer, REALLY I WAS- but i had second thoughts cause i thought people wouldn’t like it / maybe people would think its too… y-nie or im trying to make twisted anxiety reader too much, ya know
BUT OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU MEAH MWAH (also dw i got your other ask and fully plan on answering it, this one was just at the top of my inbox 🫶🫶)
but oh my god,,,, HEAR ME OUT;
twisted anxiety reader getting pent up because they. have. no. outlet.
none.
maybe they played a sport in their old world, but no longer can’t because seriously?? going up against beastmen, mermen, fae and just,,, men?! absolutely not.
they can’t do anything fun in ramshackle because of the ghosts can and will find a way to stick their noses into your business. also hello??? no privacy at ramshackle👎👎
honestly, twisted anxiety reader doesn’t have any friends so they can’t blow off steam that way either. and going to the gym is out of the question because 1. anxiety 2.gym bros- and working out at home is… different.
so there has to be a way to let off steam… good thing twisted anxiety reader dilly dallied in everything!!
they want to sing but aren’t confident enough to join the pop music club, and the walls to ramshackle are paper thin.
there’s absolutely no where you can go.
and yet… every time you glance at the forest. you can’t help but wonder…🤔
AND IVE ALWAYS IMAGINED READER SINGING
“everything stays” from adventure time
“love all mine” by mitski
“rises the moon” by liana flores
“sky fall” by adele
“memory” from cats
“listen” by beyoncé
“hopelessly devoted” by olivia newton-john
oh my god i have to make a separate post for this before i completely rot and accidentally write a whole chapter because i’ve been WAITING to write about this and i’d feel bad about making this SUPER LONG
but i can’t imagine rook going for a sunset “hike” (…sure, let’s go with that) and hearing you. belting your little heart to “hopelessly devoted” HAGFJAIWOFOSOWOFOAPEIFOZOQFOXOD
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ROOK IS AWE STRUCK
such passion! such devotion! how marvelously beautiful! rook is stunned.
of course after you finish singing he can hear you moan and groan about trivial things but- rook hunt was not a hunt if he didn’t appreciate the gift the forest provided.
and yet, the carful hunter made a careless mistake. cursing silently, he glared at the twig his boots stepped on before he snapped his head up to the clearing up ahead.
ah, you fled.
to say rook was… upset was an understatement. yes he was able to marvel in your voice, but he lost the privilege to listen to more, to observe from afar.
the strange songs you sang and possibly wrote (what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him) are gone with the wind and the high step of your foot as you vanished into thin air.
rook could easily hunt you down, but he stopped himself after a slight muscle twitch. non non! he was the enjoyer of beauty! not the hunter! yes he hunted beauty but it would go against his very being to trap it instead of let it fly free and continue its song.
so let this be your little secret, okay.
jade would def walk into you singing ‘everything stays’
OR OR ROOK N JADE BOTH TAG TEAMING READER IN THE CHAT SAYING HOW THEY WISH TO MEET THIS BEAUTIFUL VOICED GOREST ‘NYMPH’ SO THEY CAN HEAR MORE OF THEIR SONGS
readers just like;
😟
“time to find a new location☝️”
*there’s no where those two won’t be able to find you fyi*
TWISTED ANXIETY READER WILL NEVER KNOW PEACE‼️‼️ NOT AS LONG AS IM HERE‼️‼️
please send more headcanons i love reading them 🙇🏻🙇🏻
babes this is me n u rn:
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134 notes · View notes
1-49 · 5 months
Text
성찬 : Feeling every bit of this neon midnight that has filled my veins.
ᴘᴀʀɪɴɢ: jung sungchan × f!reader
❝ In which you catch the interest of a handsome stranger at the party, and he embarks on a night-long odyssey in order to validate this* awkward attraction, he strongly believes you both feel.
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ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: romance, some fluff, suggestive; strangers to ? slowburn one-night stand kinda?
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 13k
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: +18 i drag a lot in this sry. tiny bit of pinning; real tense and awkward energy; flirting; mixed signals; sungchan is messy; in a sense, he’s both confident yet appears doubtful and insecure at times. stolen kiss ups implied hot moments/dialogue lines. few magic scenes
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: no joke im obsessed with sungchan. this has also progressively made me grow more in love with him he’s so effortlessly lovley & funny, my introvert ass could never! the energy? the personality?? like, no broo stop! i envy him sm. his way with words too...
also any feedback, reblog, or support of any kind will be appreciated. tysm, and enjoy!
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A fine night, or so you thought, a showcase of stars in the sky. And while you are admiring the display of lights, in the middle of your peace, you hear the echo of an intruder ──── the sound of someone demanding to get in.
Who would be so brave? Who is willing to leave a party in order to get to you?
U let it pull u closer to the stars, this stranger’s energy that shifts the gears in your head. A stubborn being! Can’t he have a bit of patience? What could possibly be so urgent? What could he possibly be looking to discuss? As far as you know, the rave is inside, not outside.
[22:22] You wish you could describe the magnetic pull you felt just moments ago. 
[20:20] In keeping with the occasion, you took great care to make sure you felt and looked your best for your friend’s celebration. You chose a black outfit in accordance with the principle of seeking style through simple tones. Simple wide pants, a velvety sleeveless top, an open back, and some crystals hanging from your ears are enough elegancy to captivate someone. A desire for someone else’s eyes.
[22:23] Moreover, you are trying to make sense of the situation once you get to the balcony, relieved that no one is there to disturb your peace.
Sungchan’s intention, however, was never to make you uncomfortable. 
[21:45] On the other end of the room, he had already skimmed everything and everyone, not because he was that type of character, but because he was bored and new to the scene, and his inner extrovert was urging him to go find someone to befriend as soon as possible.
The options were plentiful at the scene, and the liquor in his hand resolved through his system a little faster, making him less rational in his decision. That is how your presence from the other side of the room alone helped him—some mysterious, indescribable force drawing him in.
You… 
Sungchan could not figure out why his gaze kept circling the room, passing from one person to the next but always returning to you. He rapidly became solely focused on you. The way you discuss something so profound with your friend makes him think it must be something so interesting and intriguing; the way it has you so invested in the matter undeniably gets him a little curious, secretly wishing to be in the same position your friend enjoys you. Simply put, the indulgence that you are in causes him to become greedy.
The way you smile now and then, the way your teeth graze your perfectly glazed lips, the way your earrings sway—there is just something about you that never ceases to attract his attention.
As a result, he does something about it.
You…
You notice his heated stare at you from afar and across the room—hell-bent, dense, and begging for you.
Sungchan does not immediately offer you a smile, nor does he try to be flirtatious in his gaze, but he absorbs you with such passion, concentration, and keenness that it honestly begins to make you feel super uneasy. You are having trouble reading him. 
Thus, as you start to pay more and more attention to him, things start to gradually work in his favor. This also begins to fill you with an odd sense of thrill, and before you know it, you are champing at the bit.
That tummy twirl as the eye-string between you works like a live-wire. Sungchan, lazily propped against the wall, significantly taller than anyone, and with such a pretty yet tempting set of eyes, and with the intimacy you share with him, easily begins to excite and scare you at the same time.
He possesses a spark that straddles the line between danger and enchantment. And sometimes you try to casually shift your eyesight and abandon the site, but the response you get when you return your gaze, which you always do, is that of a wounded animal.
Such a ‘casual’ face that molds into a hot one, then softens and becomes dear in a matter of minutes that whatever you two exchange quickly involuntary culminates in your breaking. Seeing him with his brows tied and slightly pouting, needy and greedy as to why you would try to wonder and abandon him even for a little, is a sight that makes your tummy clench at nothing.
You wish you were strong enough to respond to his request, whatever it is—like holding his stare until your confidence crumbles and he subdues you, or holding his stare until he is truly bored of you and can move on to the next victim.
And, because you are unprepared for any of this and are getting gagged by the space that is gradually getting more packed, you decide to dip the party in order to get some fresh air flowing through your brain.
[22:22] You are leaning over the metal rail, trying to inhale all of the lost air from earlier, and for a brief moment, you feel yourself again, relieved that you are still holding on to that sliver of confidence you promised yourself before this event even began. But the way this complete stranger was erecting himself around you had almost brought everything you had sworn to a halt.
You consider the view from the balcony to be ‘perfectly splended.’ Neon lights make love and oppose the monotonous yet sparkling dark blue sky above you on a very cold December night.
You shiver as you realize you are skin-naked against the harshness of the cold air. It is icy cold, but you are trying to ignore it for the time being. To your advantage, you try to enjoy the solitude of being alone; the tranquility of falling snow is far more appealing than the warmth of the place inside.
True, the bitter cold could not scold you out of there, so someone else had to. You are irritated when you hear the glass door slide, but you do not turn back because you know this one, whoever it is, is coming for your peace. 
A pair of hands approaches the rail, and in you sight of vision you notice the grip is somewhat firm, but you do not attempt to acknowledge this person’s presence. Not because you are cruel or ignorant, but because you simply do not feel like it right now. Someone disturbed your peace while you were seeking refuge; it is understandable to be agitated.
“Are you not freezing here?”
The ferocity with which this intruder delivers his words reveals that it is not only his hands that are strong but also his sweet, ’somewhat’ deep voice. It is enigmatic that you are not allowing yourself to be more selfish toward him; he craves your attention, and you provide it.
“I do not mind,” you say as you turn to face him and realize it is him.
“Obviously, your skin tells a different story,” he observes.
And who gave his eyes the go-ahead to roam your flesh? He is still an issue, and you can feel his gaze on you even as you try to fix yours on the scene in front of you.
Sungchan, on the other hand, is a little more confident, and from what he can tell, he still has an impact on you. Apart from the irregular breathing and chest rise, his only doubt is whether the way your skin is covered in goosebumps is due to him or the cold weather.
“I just needed a breath of fresh air. I am doing fine.”
“As you say,” he tries to give you the space you seek by shifting his gaze away from you. “Does not the cold bother you at all?”
“I suppose not. It is something I am used to.”
After a few minutes, you bring yourself to ask, breaking the little silence you two have built. Your feeble attempt at small talk, and, of course, regarding the host of the party because you can not think of anything interesting to say right now, it is as if he is taken over your mind and dumbed you down in the process.
“Are you related to Eunseok?”
“Oh,” he says, giving you his first smile, which is as bright as the light reflected off the lake’s surface and warmer and sweeter than a freshly baked apple pie. “Why? Do we look alike?” Honestly, a warm smile that could make the sun feel cold, and it is spilling out of the corners of his deep brown eyes.
Is there a length of time at which his smile should stop being your favorite sight? 
Certainly, no, but—
“Oh, no, no,” you say, backtracking in your head to see if your question was stupid. Finally, you admit, “I am just trying to make small talk.”
“I am aware of that,” he smirks triumphantly, as if he has finally won you over, because being under someone’s influence causes one to doubt and second-guess their statements, and you are doing just that, which he finds absolutely adorable.
You clearly sulk at his victory. “So?”
As a result, his smile broadens even more.
“Eunseok? Eunseok is a friend. A very close one.”
“Ah, I see,” you exhale a sigh of relief. It is even stupid, strange, and awkward that you feel this way, but you do.
“And you? Who is Eunseok to you?”
“May I say, a friend from work? We volunteer together.”
“Mhm,” he hums softly. “Strange, he has never mentioned you.”
“How can you be so certain that he hasn’t when you don’t even know what my name is?” You retort.
You are met with silence. A complete one. 
Perhaps he disliked the tone of your voice and the way you responded.
You are not sure what to make of the situation because seconds are turning into minutes and he has not said or asked anything else besides what you asked. You are worried and perplexed as to why you are still glued to being here when you could simply return inside and enter the warmth of the apartment, but you do not.
Why? What is it that keeps you here? Why are you staying out here in the cold with him?
Sungchan immediately abandons his pursuit of observing the city, the moon, and the thousand snowflakes falling from the sky when you finally turn your entire body his way. He is not interested in them anymore, if he ever was.
You unintentionally and unconsciously bring your hands together to hug yourself, not to express to him how cold you are but as a reaction to being out in the cold for too long and forgetting your coat inside. 
Your earrings flutter in the breeze, teasingly brushing against your neck and shoulders as if they were windchimes, and you are the music for him.
The wind also tangles your hair as it blows through it. Messy in the sense that your ends sometimes stick to your lipgloss and you try to ignore it. Most of his attention, however, is drawn to your delecate collar bones. And you are not wearing a bra underneath that velvet piece of whatever it is you are wearing. So the hug and squeezing on your chest only highlight your prominently hardened, sensitive spots for him.
And whether all of this divine show you are putting on is for him or not, or if it is all unintentional, Sungchan will have to figure it out on his own.
Sure, for the time being, everything is so unintentional, and he is aware of it. Sungchan understands that the cold has a big influence on how you look right now—the allure of it all—but deep down, he still believes that he, to some extent, causes it, that the cold creeps and shivers that linger on your body are brought on by him, and that it is not just the cold night.
And when he sees you like this—the neon lights reflecting off of you, the countless soft flakes landing on your face, some nestling and making a home in your hair, the way your eyes invite, and the little stars beneath them—he realizes how much he has grown dependent on you in such a short period of time.
While the neon dyes around you, he is hooked on your messy appearance. Blurred illumination and twinkling stars in the distance, but you are the star, beaming with lust in a riot of colors, or so he believes.
“Here,” he says, undressing his overdyed denim jacket in the hopes of trapping you within it—within him.
He does not even give you a chance to object. So, “thank you,” you say softly, despite the fact that you are anything but calm at the moment. His warm hands have brushed up against your arms during the process, which is a legitimate reason for your emotions to become agitated. “I did not bring mine,” you add to be more convincing. “I did not think I would be out this long.”
Sungchan grins from behind you, enjoying the intimacy the action has brought. “It is okay,” he says, brushing down the length of your now-covered arms.
His voice, words, breath, and scent rush from your hair to your ears at the same time. They are far too intimidating, but he is so smooth that it is contradictory, forcing you to disintegrate slowly. 
You are trying your hardest not to melt in his arms, but it is a difficult task. You close your eyes for a moment, cursing the thoughts that keep popping into your silly little brain, but this has been such a small gesture—a nice gesture by someone to cover someone. This is perfectly normal. This is not unusual. People frequently go out of their way to cover others who are cold. So everything is okay. This is completely fine. ‘It is fine,’ you tell yourself.
He lines up next to you once you have been wrapped in his scent.
“What is so funny?” you inquire, noticing traces of satisfaction on his face. The majority of them are smug, but it is the bite of his lips to suppress the smile and its reflection in his sweet eyes that perplexes you. He is soooo
“Nothing,” he flirts casually. His eyelid and nose bridge home these tiny, exquisite specks that wink at you, adding to his soft, angelic physiognomy. And this much is true: they are invisible to false gods, but when it comes to you, nobody is more capable of holding onto you than those moles.
“Hmph,” you murmur, cocking your brow. “All right,” you say, only increasing the smile between his bitten lips. Like this, Sungchan is quickly becoming someone who is difficult to be normal about—someone to yearn for.
Mid-eye-flirt, your eyes drop involuntarily, whether due to insecurity or not, but they do. They are on their way to examine his white cotton tee shirt, his broad chest and even longer shoulders, his venied and shivered ivory arms. His neckline too is begging for lips.
You consider his height and how your head would not even reach his shoulders if you were not wearing heels. Perhaps your high will be at his heart level, making it ideal for your ear to check on his heart palpitations. You have gotten so far in your delusion that you are wondering what it is like to kiss someone so tall.
“Sungchan,” he offers playfully, aware that he is destroying a fantasy you are creating in your head.
“Uh,” you remark. Is he reintroducing you to reality? You are extremely embarrassing. You clear your throat and respond with your name.
He begins to softly nod his head, his lips curving once more. The neon is intensifying him in the same way. He looks almost flamboyant against the soft, snowy backdrop that stretches far away.
And, should that be the case, does this signify that your two are now officially flirting?
Considering that the way he looks at you clearly has you sucked in. He wants to arouse your highs and make you fantasize about him even more. And, even if you think this is just another ‘barely even a’ fling, he is powerful and genuine, as well as strangely familiar and gently captivating.
The rest of the background fades away. You cannot feel the air or the ground beneath you; all you can feel is his gaze. Everything dissolves and energizes the ecstatic present, and your constantly rambling mind becomes thoughtless. 
By the time he breaks the intimate, soul-crushing silence again, you know you are captivated by him and you no longer want this to be a fling. This is the first time you have failed at flirting. And you know you cannot be bailed out of what is to come. In fact, 8.2 seconds of eye contact is required for love at first sight to happen. 
“Why are you here?” He asks casually, as if the minutes leading up to this point had not been too private. “Outside by yourself, I mean? You do not like it inside?” 
Now that his jacket is covering you, he has more room to investigate you, which feels like a fair trade for information. Of course, you did not ask for his jacket, and it was he who rushed with it, which is, to say the least, compromising, but here you are.
“I do not know. Not really. All I needed was some fresh air. It became too suffocating in there all at once, so I had to flee.” Given that he was the reason you left the crowded room, your smile appears phony. “It has also been a long time since I had a night out. So many people and everything... Strangely, I like it here even better. Regardless of the cold.”
“Regardless of the cold?” He teases.
“Regardless of the cold,” you say firmly.
“Mhm. I see what you mean. I can say the same thing.”
“But it is you who is freezing in the cold right now,” you say, concerned.
“It doesn’t bother me.”
If only you knew that the cold does not reach him. Being here alone with you is almost everything he does not want to lose.
Unfortunately, such a situation can only last so long. The cold, like the undefined chamisty, will eventually find its way into someone’s bones. You two are complete strangers, neither here nor there, and the atmosphere quickly becomes tense once more. It is borderline hot, cold and awkward. You are both at a loss for what to do next.
And, despite the fact that Sungchan is overjoyed to have you here, spending your precious time on him out of anyone else you could possibly be with, which undoubtedly must mean something, he is aware that he wants more of you, but how does he get there?
Perhaps someone joining you two on the balcony for a smoke can help alleviate the awkwardness that has developed between you two? However, when two more men join you to smoke on the balcony, his only concern becomes protecting you.
For whatever ‘self’ reason, he does not want you to share this space with them. Behaving in a selfish manner, he offers, “Come on, let us go inside. It’s too cold.” Because of the high likelihood that you two will part ways again, even he does not understand his thought process, but his mouth and a strong desire not to share you with anyone may be faster than his brain.
You, on the other hand, naturally accept. As if you could choose. He was the one who offered you the warmth of his jacket, and he is the one who is now freezing in his tee for you. That makes you feel guilty, but not really because his jacket carried the scent that clouded your senses. You admit that whatever you had going on was nice while it lasted.
And you do not let go of his jacket until you are both inside and you are ready to give it back to him. Again, it is not like you want to let go of it. You really do not want to, but you must.
“Thank you for not letting me freeze out there,” you say softly, handing him the overdyed piece of clothing, the dying ember in your eyes almost to the point of yearning. Half hoping he cathes upon it, half believing it is best if he doesn’t. A conflict with yourself.
“You don’t have to thank me. I am glad I could assist.” And as he gently picks it up, he becomes hesitant, as if he does not want to because he will have nothing to bargain with you for.
Sungchan feels like he has already lost you to the mass of people around him, and he feels like he is coming down to being nobody to you again. So he drags on this moment, picking up his jacket, stretching the second as much as he can, and making sure his hands have brushed and touched you irrevocably.
Time passes and the tension dissipates.
[23:13] After an hour, you are still trying to keep up with your few coworkers, who appear to be planning to call it a night and leave. You do not have much of a choice but are thinking about following their decision because Sungchan has not made any further moves towards you.
Simultaneously, this is the point at which you wish things had gone differently, and you consider many different outcomes if the dice had been rolled differently.
What if Sungchan made his move twice—once when he discovered you in the entire room and was determined to have you, and again when he got close to you on the balcony—and this time he was waiting FOR YOU to prove your true intentions and finally admit you are interested in him?
Uh, just when you thought you were going to get away from him, you find yourself wishing for more of him.
However, after witnessing you and your friends bid farewell to Eunseok, Sungchan realizes that it is now or never: lose you or have you. 
He dislikes trusting time and does not want to leave you in the future. To play the ‘if’ game. He wants you now, right now, in the present, and he will be damned if he does not tell you. As a result, he rushes to say his goodbyes, leaving you both on the same elevator.
[23:20] There is him, you, and three of your friends in the elevator, and while your friends are in the front and you are in the back, he makes sure to horn his way in to you. Fortunately for you, your friends are unaware of him and will not tease you, as no one has noticed your short romance tonight except the two strangers on the balcony. And they are also so lost in their heated debate, resulting in nothing but noise to fill the cramped four-wall space.
Even though the ride down is brief, you find yourself wishing it were longer because you cannot quite figure out Sungchan’s motifs. He is difficult to understand, in contrast to how he was at the start of the night when your gazes met across the room, when his intentions were banging on your heart’s door, eager to get in. You are not sure if the mystery he is leaving you is drawing you closer to him or making you more distant. You realize you do not want to lose him, and you tell yourself that there must be a reason he got in the same elevator with you, even if he does not say anything.
Sungchan’s fingers brush against yours at that precise moment, and he begins subtly playing, then slowly intertwining them with his, never compliantly taking your hand in his. The forbidden pleasure of the action takes the edge off—just him doing this, teasing you in front of your friends, teasing you so casually that he does not even address you. He is just doing this nervous dance as you turn to him, observing his side profile and looking for meaning in his actions, all while his gaze is fixed on the door in front of him.
So carefree, until the elevator stops and all of you exit, leaving him casually tagging behind.
And, once again, because he does not say, address, or ask you anything, and it was your friends who drove you here, it is only natural that you return to where you live with them. 
Why hasn’t he asked you whether you want to stay or go with him yet? Is he leaving the door open for you to make the next big move? Is he unaware that you are not a pursuer? Why is he putting you in this awkward position where every thought and notion ends with him?
For better or worse, you decide to work on it, telling your friends that you have forgotten your phone at Eunseok’s and will head up to look for it. And all the while they insist on waiting on you, you persuade them to leave, that you will be fine calling a taxi and that they should not worry because you may have changed your mind and will stay a little longer at the party as well.
What a scumbag lie, but it works in the end. Getting rid of them was probably one of the worst decisions made in tonight’s series, and for what? You are not even sure why.
‘What are you doing?’ ‘What the f—is this?’ You curse under your breath, despite the fact that you appear cold on the outside but are all hot and bothered on the inside. As you make your way back to the elevator entrance, a few more curses escape your lips as you wait for your friends to leave. Once they have left, you retrace your steps, noticing Sungchan standing there, checking his phone.
“What do you want!?” The request comes out a little louder than you expected. But, in your defense, you are only as direct and blunt in your candor because of his mixed signals.
Sungchan, surprised, lifts his face away from the phone, and the screen noticeably lightens and strengthens his features, giving you tunnel vision with the darkness around you and forcing you to focus on his lips whether you like it or not.
To their benefit, he adds his low and deep tone, “What do you mean, what do I want?”
“Don’t—”
Sure, one way to do this is to be playful, deny, and mislead. And he is still doing a fantastic job of it. However, you can only take so much right now. The more he complicates things, the more you want him, and the more you want your answer, no matter how promiscuous the situation makes you appear.
“What were you doing inside messing with my fingers? Why take the same elevator? Why were you looking for a place to stay earlier at the bacony? Your cryptic cues are, to put it mildly, lame.”
“No, you are right,” he says with a smirk that would irritate even a god. “I am usually direct. Maybe I just wanted to take the long way around this time. And I was not doing anything. They just brushed naturally.”
“Sung—” you clench your teeth, trying to recall the rest of his name. “Sung—” but nothing comes to mind right now.
“Chan. SungChan,” he emphasizes. The satisfaction of seeing you lag when you probably want to throw hands with him is clearly visible on his face, and he is powerless to stop it. “What meaning did you find in them? I mean… our fingers touching? Many people will take nothing away from it and will most likely dismiss it.”
You shake your head in disbelief. “You can’t be serious? If you have a question, why just not ask me?”
“I already have. What meaning do you give us?” He speaks slowly, but with assurance and fixation. He is aware of the confidence he is currently displaying, so he might as well make it more lethal. “What do you want me to ask?” 
He would rather you express yourself. You! And, despite the fact that he already has a decent idea of your feelings and desires, he wants you to be more explicit about them. That is why he persists in pressuring you to give in to him. To hook you. To persuade you to ask questions. To convince you that you, too, need him. It is almost as if he is subtly switching roles. And it is he who is being chased this time.
“Oh, it has become what I want now?  you mutter. “I cannot believe it.” Turning around, you plan to start walking away from him. You are done with his nonsense.
But Sungchan’s long arm easily reaches out and firmly grasps your wrist. You pause for a moment, unsure whether you should turn back and acknowledge him, but you do. You cannot help but be annoyed because he will not ask you the question you know he wants to ask. He does not. In fact, he dragged on every opportunity he could have asked you tonight, and it is because of him that you lost your drive back home, and it is because of him—and it—
Is his ego that big? And if he does play, why for so long? How did he turn this into you running after him, which is completely opposite of who he was and what he wanted at the start of the night? It is heinous.
But, once again, the two of you can only take so much in the cold weather.
His warmth, in contrast to the cold, spreads from your wrist up the length of your arm to your neck. Hot that feels oppressive but relieves the chill.
His cheeks are undeniably flushed, and the adorable tip of his nose is irritated red. Your jaws begin to twitch, and his lips follow suit. A cold breath begins to emerge from beneath your noses, and your bodies begin to shake as you begin to burn from within. Such unavoidable conflict lingers on your face, and for a brief moment, he feels sorry for having you freeze out here. Sungchan might have had his games going if it had been a warmer season, but that is not the case right now. Finally, he brings himself to put an end to it all.
“I will give you a ride. You must be freezing.”
“Give me a ride!?” You mock, attempting to shake your wrist free from his grip, but it has no effect. You are so fed up with him.
“You lost your ride home because of me, right? He says it with a cheeky grin, as if he is proud of himself, as if missing your ride because of him is such a big accomplishment. “It is only fair that I do something abo—” It is like rubbing salt into a wou—But-but his intentions are all pure!
“Oh, my god,” you say, disbelievingly looking up at the sky before returning your gaze to him. “You are such a jerk. I never would have guessed you were this bad.”
“Your place, or mine?”
“Your game is awful. I am not sure how many times I have to remind you of—”
“As long as it works.”
You bite your lower lip in frustration while rolling your eyes.
The game is bad, but there are not many alternatives. Your phone is still in your small bag, as it has always been, and your friends have gone. Returning to the party or freezing to death are neither of the options that appeal to you. As a result, you end up in his car as the least bad option.
To put it mildly, the ride to his place is quiet; his grip on the steering wheel appears to be steady and relaxed, whereas you are a fucking mess. You desperately hope you do not come across as such and that what is going on inside does not show on the outside, despite your earlier efforts and utmost failures. It is frustrating because you were the one who persuaded him to respond, and you were the one who stayed with him—without him even asking. 
Therefore, everything that has happened up to this point has been an inaccurate reflection of who you are. You hope the circumstances did not boost his ego even more and make you a lesser version of yourself.
You divert your gaze away from the window by focusing on his side profile while he maintains his gaze on the road. Uh, infuriatingly beautiful! So, you decide, carelessly, to press the ‘imaginary’ pedal even harder, dazzling reality onto the fantasy, oblivious to the consequences and what if they worsen? And all they need is what you are about to say to escalate the situation.
“You do not strike me as the type, you know?” 
“As the type to?” 
Nervous, you rub your thighs. “The perplexing kind. To play games,” you pause. “Your smile is lovely, and your eyes are too sincere. You have the face and energy of someone who can play the cheeky extrovert in charge of the party atmosphere. Someone who is witty while remaining sweet. I think that your current self-presentation does not accurately reflect who you are. To be honest, I think you are terrible at pretending. You are so bad at it that you are losing at your own game.”
He remains unaffected, looking ahead at the road. “Then let us keep pretending. I can keep up the tough guy persona for you if you want.”
“It is not about what I want. Plus, you weren’t like that at first.”
He thrives on your somewhat nice compliment. “Was I someone sweet?”
“Shut up,” you repeat, and neither of you says much else after that.
The bottom line is that he can be anything you need him to be. And you notice it the moment you both enter the elevator, your backs against the opposite walls, the gap between you closing but not closing completely. The silence is still, awkward and sexy. 
In the literal sense, he is a walking contradiction. Why is he staring at you with his head pressed against the elvator’s metal, his stark jaw, neck exposed, and this dense ‘undressing’ look in his eyes, never losing his sweet smily charm in front of you? He is so good at it that you both despise and admire him. He both thrills and terrifies you. 
You have to keep wondering how he manages to be both endearing and seductive. It is peak performance, and it must have taken him a while to get there. It makes you long for him in ways you never imagined possible.
The type to give you a backhug followed by a kiss on your hair while saying, ‘You are mine,’ and then easily transform it into a chokehold while whispering in your ear, ‘Mine!’ 
Someone you would consider kissing or biting. Someone you would consider walking hand in hand with only to have him act disrespectfully later, when you are in a safe place and it is just you and him. Someone who will kiss your temple and then invite you to sit in his lap.
You close your eyes at the culmination of your thoughts. You are certain he can sense your internal temperature,  even if he is not touching you. He is touching you in ways you have not been touched before, and this time it turns into an elevator ride that seems to last forever and you wish it would end as soon as possible. 
[23:48] Stepping into the hallway, you try to pick yourself up and carry on from where you melted. You insert the key into the keyhole of your door and invite him in, but you are really second-guessing yourself and questioning your actions. However, it is too late. It is too late because the moment you close the door behind you, you are trapped against the next wall.
Whether provoked or not, he begins sliding your coat down, his hands coming to grip on your shoulders. 
Dazed and hurried, you search for some sense in his eyes but you cannot find any. This causes you to resent your hasty, ill-considered decisions, and you try to protest, but no words come out of your mouth. When did things begin to move at such a rapid and high rate?
Sungchan, fit and lean, towers above you, cornering you and putting you in a scary situation where your only way out is to scream. His overdye jacket rises with him as he raises his hands and rests them on each side of you on the wall. Your gaze shifts to his tiny waist as a tiny bit of his white tee peals away, revealing some of his hips.
You silently gulp at how quickly everything resolves. Your words and thoughts are both stuck deeper inside your mouth and will not form.
“Look at me,” he says, pointing out your excessive staring at the floor.
“I-I” 
Naturally, you cannot go on because your words are failing you. Should the deep look in his eyes in the elevator forewarn you of what he is about to do?
So, in order to get you to look at him, his fingers grab the thin strap of your top, intending to yank and tear it. Of course he doesn’t, but his strategy proves to work instantly as soon as your eyes meet his.
You start to tremble under the complete hot mess of his deep browns, wondering what would happen if he continued the action. The only thing keeping you from being too exposed and naked for him is the velvet fabric that clings to your body. It gets so hot so fast that you are not sure how it is possible, all while your heart feels like it is about to leap out of your chest. Self-defense kicks in, and you raise your hand to your sternum to keep the material in place just in case.
“What exactly is going on?” You ask, stunned, caged by his hands on both sides of you, and already gone.
“You ask as if you haven’t already calculated the distance between our lips and guessed the flavor of my tongue,” he gruffly replies. “This is everything we both desired from the moment our gazes met across the room.” To make matters worse, he whispers, “Don’t deny it.”
A thought flashes through your mind, as sudden and powerful as a firework reaching the sky, because that is exactly what has been poisoning your mind. That is all you have been able to think about. What would it be like to kiss him? How would his lips taste? Is he the type to smile through the kiss, mocking you because you have given up?
“That—that is completely un—untrue,” you mumble, turning away from him and looking at the door.  But your neck muscles work with you, and is the current exposed line meant to tease him even more?
Sungchan seizes the opportunity, moving in closer, pushing your legs apart, and resting his knee against the wall between them. His figure is far too intimidating, while his lazy smile and curious lips climb your provocative neck to your earshell with a bit of his gut feeling that this is where you break the most. “Do you already regret inviting me?” 
His tone and breath are light and breezy, like soft sunlight peeking through the curtains at dawn, revealing a scent of freshness as they enter your little universe. They are, however, comfortably casual, which makes him attractively persistent at the very entrance of your ear. “I have already altered, if not ruined, your night,”  his lips almost kissing under your ear. “We might as well give in to this absurd affection. What have we got to lose?”
And waiting for an answer, having reached this stage, his instincts and the part of his brain receptive to pain are already bracing themselves. He can feel them clenching in his gut as this two coming to three hour-stand-situation has blurred the lines between lovers, strangers with ‘potential’ benefits, and something resembling a budding romance.
As you keep staring at the door while pressed up against the wall, beneath his words, his high and his strength, completely at his mercy, your thoughts are also protesting against being so emotionally fiercely oppressed. They are getting out of hand, to be honest, as the dislike of not wanting to be clingy, the desire to not be subdued, or the fear of yet another heartbreak are no longer enough to keep these rising hopes in check.
“Tell me,” he demands softly. Soft-skilled, his hand turns your face to him without your permission. He has no concept of consent, and gently, with doe eyes, he thefts your emotions.
“Sung—Chan,” you scorn in a moan as he holds your jaw in his hands and demands that you see…
“You made an effort to remember my name. I am confident you will remember my face as well.”
“You have a pretty forgettable face,” you lie, maintaining your larger-than-life persona. You. make. him. smile. 
One of those smiles...
‘FUCK!’
Sungchan’s lashes flatter above you, like venom attempting to doom you, as he catches you ‘dream walking’ between his teeth and his thumb, wishing he could push it past your lips and touch your tongue.
“Will you be able to forget a face you ruined?” He eventually asks.
In pain, you furrow your brows. You are at a loss for what to say in response to the nasty compliment-turn question. It is all on you. You were the one who started it. You are such a speck in comparison to him, having concluded that he is extroverted in every way possible.
“Yes or no?” The more he demands, the deeper his voice becomes. “Answer me,” he says, lowering his head so that his nose brushes against yours. As you watch him formulate his question, his eyes close.  “Will you be able to forget someone who intruded on your night in a very honest attempt to—to”
His other hand, which is gripping your waist, tightens. A real physical touch that threatens to melt your left side as you become unconscious of how much your legs rub against his that is between yours. The star details in your eye makeup could be mistaken for tears.
“Seriously,” he says against your lips, his confidence slightly backtracking. “Did I ruin your night?” Adding flaws to himself when he is perfect, “I have been messy and—”
You succumb to his lingering words, losing your voice and forgetting how to breathe, and the closer he comes to you and presses his body against yours, the more sensitive he becomes to the situation. The more he craves it, the more he overthinks, questioning whether he is doing everything correctly. The more he does not want to lose you, the stronger his possessive feelings become.
Obsessed with the idea of making you his even for a single night and oblivious to the idea of consent, he does not waste a second longer and brings his lips to your exposed neck, causing a new wave of warmth to spread out.
You feel your body quiver and break out in a cold sweat. His desperate, awfully warm lips awaken your moans, allowing him to revel in how helpless and breakable you have become this late into the night. And as a reward for his patience, he gets these tasty little audible treats.
“Sungchan,” you mutter in a complete filmic daze, hot all over and clutching his jacket and pulling him even closer to you. “We-we”
He groans into your neck, a whiny protest that caresses your already electrified skin, because he is too far gone, too shallow in his tender need for you, and looking into your eyes now would be too humiliating. All the while, he has to keep his ‘irresistible’ guy impersonation in check, right?
As a result, you are the one who uses force to get him to stop. You give him one last look before pressing your lips against his. You cannot think of anything else but having him smear your gloss all over your face. But before you can even feel his lips violently unite with yours, he pulls back. It is barley a peck. 
So, now, you are not sure if his provocative, melancholy expression is meant to delude you even more or if he is actually thinking. But what this giant really does is count to ten before unleashing his thrust that has been building for some hours.
His big hands seize your face again, but this time he tugs on your bottom lip first, retaining it between his teeth and claiming you before moving on. You realize that even the finest alcohol you have ever tasted has never been this potent. The softest, smoothest, and lightest silk you have ever touched does not compare to his hands on your face.
Sungchan’s sweet scent, taste, and shameless sighs overwhelm all of your senses, culminating in you ghasping in his mouth. In his struggle for dominance, his tongue is selfish, and his hand lands on your waist again and starts to pick up the material, exposing your skin to his touch.
His hand smoothly glides across your bare skin before groping you so hard that you bite him back, giving in to your wild side.
“Ouch!” he hisses, furrowing his brows. He takes a step back and completely releases you.
With him doing this, you finally recognize the coldness of the night for what it is because it hits you all at once, and not literally in the sense that the room is cold, but you feel extreme coldness in the distance he just created. You are aware that you and he are still at the entrance and have made no progress, but you are more concerned that you will be unable to continue due to his most recent halt, which you caused. Everything appeared to be going well; your lips had finally paired and become the same, but you had to go and ruin that.
His hand drops and grips the handle. But only if you knew this was your last chance to let him go—the last time he gains enough control to restrain himself. He hopes this is the last time you think clearly before realizing that if he stays, he will be unable to leave this place without leaving you ‘scarred’ in some way.
The kiss’s spontaneity and rapidity caught you both off guard, blanking your thoughts and leaving your minds so empty that neither of you knows whether staying or leaving is more rational.
In response, Sungchan’s hand presses lightly on the handl—
An aching “Stay!” escapes your used lips as you lose control through a clenched fist.
“Why do you need me here?”  he wonders.
“I don’t know! I suppose I want to remember this kiss, but it was so brief and happened so quickly. It surprised me.”
“I thought you said I had a forgettable face. So, what good is remembering our kiss?”
‘Mean’ you think to yourself. And what better than to offer him a silly stay? “I have a wonderful bottle of wine waiting to be opened,”  you remark as you pick up the coat from the floor and hang it up. “Oh, and you have to meet my fish. One of them looks exactly like you.”
His soft roused pink lips curve into a smile as the corners of his eyes crinkle. Something shifts in you when he laughs. It is as if your heart is swimming in honey. You want to drink it.
“How can a fish suddenly resemble me?”
“See?” you say as you lead him inside. “You are curious, aren’t you?”
“If you accept that we just made out, then fine.”
You return his sarcasm with wide eyes, noticing him softly poking the inside of his cheek and pouting his lips. He is flirting with you a little more confidently now that he has been officially invited into the heart of your privacy, which is your home, and is no longer considered the intruder.
[00:14] In the living room sits the stoic aquarium with his twin fish. The tank emits a cozy neon magenta blue in the middle of the dark room, creating a familiar color atmosphere to the one earlier at the balcony. 
As you two get closer, each of you takes a position on each side of the tank. Sungchan appears to be ecstatic about the fact that you were speaking the truth, that you were housing fish at home, and that you were not lying.
“You weren’t lying,” he says automatically, astounded by the several small creatures flapping their tails gracefully. Each one is unique and divergent. They go about their business, going through their insignificant daily loop. Some even resort to randomly breaking out of the loop by lightly tapping their mouths on the glass.
“Can you spot yourself?” You crack the joke over the glass wall.
He investigates the situation further before declaring, “They are kissing,” his finger pointing to two fish at the tank’s very bottom, partially hidden by the green seaweeds.
“Oh,” you say as you tap the glass to scare them away and get them to stop, “they are not ‘in love’ with each other. Actually, fish are the opposite. They are fighting. I am guessing you assumed one of them was the one who resembled you,” you say, tiptoeing to catch a better glimpse of his face over the tank.
He, on the other hand, is not troubled in the same way. He is tall and imposing. “It wasn’t me if they weren’t kissing... Do fish not kiss?”
“Fish may rub against each other or press their bodies together, but this is not kissing, whereas fish who touch their lips or lock in a passionate kiss are most likely sparring or engaged in battle. When this occurs, they are attempting to injure each other, which can cause severe damage. So, thank you for noticing. I might have to take action on this.”
“But why?”
“Because if you have fish that are engaging in this behavior, you must separate them as soon as possible before they injure or—The-the consequences can be fatal, okay?”
“A kiss that can kill?” he muses, his eyes brightening as he becomes fascinated by the matter.
You sense his intent, as if he had not delivered such a kiss a few minutes ago. Even though it was brief, it served as both bait and, most importantly, a promise.  That is, it could have been much worse had he not broken it. You have no doubt that he withheld his lethal kiss from you.
“Ugh,” you sigh, pointing a finger lovingly at him to correct his misbehavior. “Don’t look fascinated, as this is bad for my fish.”
He grins at your petty, silly threat.
Casually, as the fish swim in unison, unaffected by their monotonous routine, his eyes begin to reflect the contents of the salty tank. He is both close and far. The light enhances his face’s magical mystery, and you notice another tiny mole at the edge of his upper lip as he opens his mouth in delight. It is as if a top secret has been revealed, and you appear to be the lucky recipient. So tiny, yet celestial. Something simple but meaningful. How come you did not notice it sooner? 
Since he is always attracting you so calmly, you eventually come to the conclusion that Sungchan is a true meance. There is a slow-burning beauty about him—a beauty that destroys peace. Soft brown, like the coffee that inks the back of your throat and leaves you asking for more as your mind begins to crack. There is always some bait for you to take—some feature or trait of his that he is constantly working on in order to get you to long. His eyes, his pretty hands, and his towering physique. His broad shoulders, his side profile, and his absolutely stunning nose. 
However, his tiny mole is now attracting your attention back to his lips… And the truth is, the last time you thought about his lips... Well, you got them! Which, once more, is something you can have if you wish it.
He reverberates deep inside your innermost thoughts. ‘What about this killing kiss?’ ‘What about it? Just wh—’ You wish to know!
To clear your mind, you choose to pose a question. “Do you know about the soulmate theory? People say that moles are where your lover kissed you the most in your past life. Which indicates that you have—”
“I kissed a lot,” he cuts in.
“You have had a lot of kisses,” you point out.
“Then, what is more repulsive to you: me being frequently kissed or me being a promiscuous kisser?”
“How can I be the judge? You must have done a lot of kissing. That is all there is to it.”
“Alright. But I am curious. How would you kiss me if we had to do it all over again? ​If we had to take things slowly?”
“Wh—why are you asking?”
“Because everything up to this point has felt like a high that has caused me to act on impulse. But now that I am standing across from you, this calm and comfortable essence, the soothing sounds of this water tank... You. All of this balancing act of our energies seems to be helping to calm down all of that rush. I want to hold your hand and I want you to think I am cute.”
“Right!” you chuckle at him. “What exactly do you mean, Sungchan? Your eyes tell a very distinct—y-your your smile—” You pause for a moment to examine his sincerity, and you discover no flaws in his truth. “Wait, you ARE serious.”
Different shades of the same cyan and magenta spread across his face, each time so new yet so familiar. He rubs his chin, then runs his hand through his hair, ruffling it. “I am.”
The sweet, calming vibrations that he seems to be floating on top of blend with sensual and suggestive ones in a way that is beyond comprehension. How is it possible for someone to be both extremes at once? Sincerely, there is not a comb in the world that could possibly untangle your knotted feelings at this moment. You have had no idea how terribly screwed you are until this point.
Hence, your gaze returns to the fish, and you can tell by the sudden shift in the air that he is about to say something you wish he hadn’t. You make every effort to get him to stop. “But—”
“Look,” he wins over you; “your ability to completely eliminate my desire to socialize with anyone at a party in favor of creating tunnel vision speaks for itself.” 
He takes a moment to think of what else to say. “And-And we haven’t even gotten to the laughs and the banter, the bad sarcasm, the conversations, or the warmest embrace... The next-day breakfast that culminates in a ridiculously serious spectacle of coffee making, which I thoroughly enjoy from the best seat in your kitchen while you wear my t-shirt, which fits you far better,”
“Sungch—”
“But that’s THE future. So, then, of course, if I am just a one time guy, I am not kidding when I ask what kind of kiss you want. If you are going to remember or take something from this night, it might as well be something worthwhile.”
At least you should not be held accountable for falling in love because Sungchan is beautiful with his carefully chosen words. And as the chemistry reaches its peak, you realize you can no longer resist it. You tiptoe a little more to get a better look at him without having to look through the glass.  His eyes pierce you with a clarity you have not seen before, and you can feel him pulling you through the glass and water like a magnet.
You cannot put it into words, but something is there. A million thoughts, feelings, hopes, and dreams are exchanged without the use of a single word. You let the magnetism take over. 
And so he smiles as you drown, or is that his coping mechanism for drowning into you as well? 
Really, is there a length of time at which his smile should stop being your favorite sight?
Overcoming the rather tiresome governance of fear, you decide to speak in favor of your ‘lust-ings’, despite the fact that you never intended to spend the night with a guy, let alone invite and bring one home.
“If I had to imagine another kiss, it would be one that happened on the spur of the mome—”
In actuality, everything that has happened so far has happened spontaneously. Startled,   he cutely leans over the glass tank, gripping the top edge with both hands. “Again!?” 
“It seems to suit your personality, and for what it is worth, I think I like it. A kiss where we banter around because I cannot read your cues or antics, which leads to you being unable to take my sarcastic criticism, so you choose to silence me.”
“Is that how you define ‘cute’?”
Sweetly, you continue to enrage him. “You can’t even handle it right now, can you?”
Sungchan squints, attempting to determine if the patterns  of the ‘kiss has already started’ are already there. He lets go of the tank’s glass, crosses his arms, and pouts some more before starting to pull his jacket down, giving the impression of, ‘Sure, it is on... And please, do proceed!’
Yet, refusing to take it off completely, his jacket dangles halfway down his arms. His collarbones and tee collar are in a power struggle. Numerous veins swarm his arms and biceps, screaming for your attention. 
Again, something you have seen before, but is that supposed to make it easier for you to process? And how should you focus on everything at all, appropriately? And what should you do in response when he eventually decides to purposefully bite his lip in slow motion? His sheer beauty alone is giving you headaches, not to mention all of these other details.
To turn the conversation back on track, you give him a soft smile and continue to elaborate on what, in your opinion, is the ideal kiss. 
“You want to stop me from talking because I step on so many of your nerves, and there is not much else you can do but kiss me. You want so bad to grab me and shake me, but all you manage to do is squeeze my face gently between your palms…” You make a small pause before you continue. “The seconds get progressively slower in microseconds as we stare at one another. I successfully count three of your moles while you complete a ten-count. With that, your excitement to punish me dies down. A new need emerges.”
“I imagine a kiss where you don’t even realize how tender your lips are pressed against mine. But then, I bet you don’t even realize how soft your lips are.” A unique sensuality is added to your voice as it becomes increasingly lower pitched while you speak. “Or-r are aware of the way the corners of your eyes crinkle when you shut them. It is just ughh—ANYWAY, a kiss where your annoyingly long eyelashes, of which I am very jealous, tickle my cheekbones, and my lipgloss leaves sparkles on your nose. You take hold of my hands and slowly raise me up, letting me step on your toes and offering one of those smiles that you have already given me… while you are ignorant of all these tiny, lovely things about yourself, Sungchan. Is that cute enough for you?”
Your last words cause him to tilt his head back slightly, look up at the ceiling, and take a deep breath. “You are safe as long as this wall of glass keeps us separate. But nothing about anything, not even how I will treat you if you decide to move, is guaranteed. I just know that I won’t be able to stop myself.”
“Is that a threat?” You raise a brow.
“Assume anything you like,” he says indifferently. “It can be a threat if that is what you want it to be.”
“Hmph,” you razz him some more, “so you are going back to being the tough guy?” as you take the initial step away from the aquarium. “Might I suggest that ‘you do not seem like the type’? Did you forget, or what?”
“You don’t know me,” he at last asserts, embracing your challenge and making a step too. 
As soon as there is nothing separating you two, dopamine levels peak.
“You do it so effortlessly, I bet.”
Sunghcan gives his lips a quick lick. “You have seen and felt it.”
You answer truthfully, “I have.”
With a notorious smile that matches his innermost feelings, he snatches you without warning and begins to drag you over the couch, which is located in a more central area of the room. His stature is so great that he carries you with your feet elevated, and your ‘let me down’ whine is met with his ‘UH HUH, you are going to have to tell me why you have invited me.’
When he finally gets you both there, he exhales and collapses back onto the couch, holding you in his arms. You are slightly leaning on him with your knees around his waist. 
Quickly adjusting to the seat, Sungchan presents an offensive sight with his head resting on the couch. You are in a situation where you would like to know how to proceed, where to look, or what else to say, but all of those things have been done before. The only thing left to do is to give yourself entirely to him.
Sungchan goes right to work without much delay. His fingers gently dip on both sides of your waist before he applies more pressure.
There is a noticeable tremble in your voice. “W-what are y-you doing?” You manage to ask despite your heart thumping frantically in your throat and feeling like it is going to choke you from his intimidating appearance and the pressure of his hands on your ribs. 
“Act my part?” He says this with such intensity that he cleverly slips one hand past your waist and runs along your backbone, taking advantage of some of the exposed skin on your back.
Feeling tense, your hands start to shake, and you are not sure where to put them other than where his head rests—at the back of the couch. Well, that seems like a safe choice, duh. Or should you touch him back in return? Should—
You truly are clueless, yet all your thoughts can be seen.
So, as you hover over him and look into his eyes, the last thing you hear is his seductive, whispery ‘Come,’ which invites you to close the distance and gives you total control over how to initiate this kiss. His hands press your body against his, and his mysterious, deep tone easily compels you. 
As the heat of the moment engulfs you both, nobody says anything. It is what you two—especially him—had been looking forward to for hours. An earlier thought that was driving him crazy was picturing you exactly as you are in his arms right now, only to find that you are even better—even beautiful—and that your skin is hotter and softer than  he had fantasized.
He suffers from the same consequences of ‘the closeness’ as you do. You can feel his heart hammering against his chest, trying to break free. His steady lashes are growing more disturbed, and his breathing is labored and drawn out. And when your warm lips finally touch his, his brain shuts down completely. Maybe he is just not used to things going slowly. You are killing him subtly now by doing that.
Actually, this whole night was just a slow, steady death. You can taste the sweetness in him even in his mouth, so you can be assured that even though he can be quick at times, there is an unquestionable sweetness to him. The sweetness that translates from the smile he lets out while kissing you. 
Of course, he is skilled at this! He slowly extends his tongue after letting his hums seep into you and the kiss grows deeper.
The sound of the kiss developing into a passionate makeout accentuates the hair at the back of your head. You are completely absorbed by him, lost. And the moment you hear his first pant in your mouth, you scoop his face into your hands. He presses harder against your back as your hands burn from the heat of his cheeks.
You moan, hot yet weak and defenseless, ‘Sung—” polonged “chan,’ meaning to say something but never managing to.
“Mhmm-” As he fills your mouth with his tongue and spreads it farther in an attempt to find more space, the tender kiss seems to turn into something bold and invasive. It quickly descends into sloppy, steamy, wet kissing. A kiss that is actually so strong that it does not matter if you drool or think it is inappropriate.
He holds your waist with one arm while pressing you down onto him, applying pressure to your nape. His jeans quickly became unbearable to be in due to the slight movement causing friction.
Then he begins kissing your jaw. Further down, the dampness of his breath clings to your throat, making you lose consciousness. If it was just his lips the first time, now there are his tongue and teeth as well. He tampers with the strap of the top with his fingers before sliding it down your shoulder. His impatience is evident as his kisses travel down your chest. You are helpless to stop him from becoming needy in his attempts to torture you; all you can do is throw back your head and hope he stays that way the entire night.
In the moment’s trance, he lays you down and hovers over you in a fit of craving. The couch starts to screech because his weight and the pressure he puts on it are too much for it. 
It is at this point that you realize how much you enjoy being placed in a vulnerable situation where you cannot think about leaving because of his arms. The more you watch him, the more attracted he becomes to you, because he can see your thought in the way you look at him. Both of you and him get turned on by it. You love how openly and compulsively possessive he is. 
And… should you love it?
Just looking at him on top of everything makes you feel fucking aroused. Thoughts of how perverse his lip mole is are all over your head. His hair gets in the way of his dazed eyes, whose brown never stops being drenched in the aquarium’s neon blue. 
If the neon fades from him, will everything end?
Feeling a bit annoyed by the question that keeps coming to mind, you find yourself embracing his torso and seeking the comfort of his weight on top of you, biting his shoulder in the process. His writhing gasps are to die for as your teeth and fingernails dig into his white shirt.
Your silent demands are met with Sungchan’s insistence that you look at him. Not to mention that it becomes harder to do that. He is not letting you look anywhere but at him, as his fingers start to lift your top and you feel them drawing damaging figures beneath your belly button, creating such an intensely carnal, gut-wrenching moment as your desires intensify. And there is this throbbing, hot, and silky feeling to your skin, which makes him want to torment you until you lose any control. 
To do that, he grabs a tender spot on your thigh to further expose you and carve out more space for himself. 
As far as clothes go, for a moment, you wish there was nothing at all between you and him. And as you shut your eyes to the idea, Sungchan plants a kiss under your ear, leaving a trail of smiles across your cheek. Oh, how well he reads you. Have faith—he shares your desire.
You too have, unconsciously, contributed to his shirt being half-rid. Squares make up most of his belly, and they end at the bottom of his low-rise jeans. Your fingers smuggle themselves against his most sensitive skin, just beneath the hem of his jeans.
His lips open up, and you try to learn the precise way he hurts by watching and absorbing every move he makes while his eyebrows tighten at your touch. If you push your hand a little further, what should you expect?
He is fiercely competitive, so he rolls his hips into you after becoming enthralled with your fleeting, tender touches.
You cover your eyes in embarrassment at this gesture, but his voice is already there, right in your ear. “Open your eyes.” 
When you shake your head silently, refusing to give in, he grabs your hands and pins them over your head. 
“Open up,” he insists. A honey-like voice turned sour. Sungchan is cruel and hard, with the strangest soft skin, a contradictory scent, and the ability to practically lick your face with his words—a lesson that teaches you to be both tough and tender as well. As a result, you gently release the held fear. Your eyes allow him to be with you without you having to say it out loud.
And although he is too shy to let it on or say it, the subsequent crushing of his hips into you speaks of ‘That is right, baby…’ The following one of ‘Nice and slow,’ and the one right after of ‘I’ll go again... and again... and—’
“Please, don’t—” you cry out. 
His lips are blazing and red is blooming all over his cheeks, but still, Sungchan resists giving in to his shyness. As an alternative, he tightens his hold on your wrists. “Mhmm. Need words.”
“D-don’t—don’t let this end; it’s-it is just too fucking good.” 
“Yeah?” He smiles, releasing your wrists, recognizing that he is actually far too touch-deprived and needs your hands on every part of his body. “You know it is true,” he whispers, stroking your lips with his thumb before your frustration overcomes you and you take in his colossal index and middle fingers in your mouth.
Yeah, you know it is true… You introduce them to your teeth and tongue before you begin to suck. 
And is he really expected to be unaffected by that? When you devour him like that? He hurts for you to suck it so much that he is now in raw pain. No succulent sip should be missed. The taste must be unimaginable in many ways.
His mouth opens with a swear word. “As soon as I saw you, I knew you would find this irresistible.”
As you never really anticipated it this far, you are not sure if you feel the same. But here he is, and here you are, acting as the situation demands, so maybe he is right. Your reciprocal relationship is akin to an electric shockwave, meeting both your needs and your own desires in equal measure. The perfect balance... found in a stranger at a party…
Sungchan decides to reach your vulnerable center, soothing you with deep, heavy, lewd kisses. You have no idea what he needs or wants or if his body is adapting to yours, but you can bet that the ‘Fuck’ he sucks into your lips is real.
“Please,” you beg, raising your hands, only to have him slam them down once more while giving you a serious look as if you might have done him more harm than good. But in reality, you are so fragile under him that you steal his heart. Tears of sweat form at his temple, and you manage to free a hand to give him long, leisurely strokes as you brush his hair out of his eyes.
He says something incoherently like ‘sorry,’ leaning in to plant another kiss while entwining his palms with yours. 
What is he sorry for?
Nothing about his behavior, not even this kiss, matches his hard, deep, grinding hips. The night’s apex remains unaffected, even though the jeans denim is impenetrable. You want to burst at the way he begins to ease up on you, circling back and forth, momentum building, building, holding your fingers intertwined while his other hand rests on your waist to keep you still while he slows down, which intensifies the pain you are experiencing.
Eventually, he looks down at you and stops whatever he is doing, breathing heavily as though he is just finished a mile. You both suffer from this entire action. Needs and thirst are put on hold by him. At last, he gathers his courage to say something, gazing at you through the same wounded eyes that were there when your attention strayed from his way earlier. “I have something to tell you.” 
You reassure him, sensing a weight in his fast blinks, “You don’t have to say it.” He is even quicker to lean his cheek into your palm when you tickle under his chin to soothe him. The touchy-feely, seeking affection he displays pushes you to emphasize what you mean more. “It’s the way you look at me.”
“Isn’t it silly?” He muses with glassy brown eyes that are blown bigger than anyone’s ability to frighten him. “Love at first sight is not something I believe in. No one should, in my opinion.”
“Then, what makes you feel the need to tell me something?”
“I—” His speech falters as he struggles to form a complete sentence before sighing and collapsing next to you onto the overly small sofa.
“Don’t,” you say while squeezing yourself smaller to make more room for him. “Then don’t. You don’t have to say anything.”
“But I am not ready to end this evening,” he fusses, using his finger to tap both of your chests to show how close you two are, “which means I also don’t want what is going on in here to end.”
“I know,”  you say with a smile as you take his hand in yours, study it, and then walk the inward lines as though determining whether the two of you have what it takes. 
He watches you as you watch his hand; if there is anything he wants to hold onto forever, it is this. There is a certain cruciality to the moment. Despite not knowing if you two are a match, you both want this to continue. And so you say, "Nor do I."
“Seriously?” he asks, raising himself up on one elbow with a shocked expression.
You continue to feel and appreciate his hand, ignoring his question. The beauty of his hands is also astounding. “Would you say this is cute?” You mention his earlier observations about cuteness. 
“You remembered.”
“I want to hold your hand and I want you to think I am cute.” You quote him, then tap twice on his nose. “Of course I remember, silly, but it is me holding your hand, not the opposite.”
With his lips heavily affected by all the heavy makeout, Sungchan pouts the biggest pout imaginable.
You draw parallels and say, “I swear, you look like my fish.”
He asks through his giggles, “Who kisses to kill?”
“Right…”
“And…” he is curious, “did it work?”
You sigh mockingly to mimic exhaustion. “A lot of death kisses, yes.”
His heavy arm presses your waist against his body while he tucks his head into your neck in response, seeking to stay.
For the rest of the night, Sunghcahn clings to you, making sure you realize that no one else can touch you or make you feel the way you do right now. Perhaps this is his greed getting the better of him when he realizes that you could have ended up this way with anyone at the party and that, should things change and you decide differently, you could be this way with someone else as early as next week. 
His stomach turns at the thought. Your presence tonight brought to light a more beautiful side to the things that had seemed perfect before, completely changing his life.  It seems he has a great deal left to accomplish and a lot more to prove… as an intruder.
Though as for tonight, it is as if two entirely distinct universes or two distinct parallel lines that had never intersected finally made contact with one another. You two are so in sync—the type of people sensitive to distance.
[An indefinite persistent dream.]
The best thing he could hope to hear next is,  “Mark me yours.” 
“Where?”
“Everywhere.”
~
© 𝟭-𝟰𝟵. do not copy, translate, repost, and modify my works.
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eiraeths · 5 months
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do you guys want some of my cod 141 headcanons you’re getting them anyways
SOAP
-puts stuff in his mouth a lot to hold it when he runs out of hands (this includes when he’s making explosives, it stresses everyone out)
-gets cute aggression and bites people
-will also bite in a fight
-has bits and pieces of rubble from explosions that he thought looked pretty
-is feral, like he takes a hit to the face during a spar and grins with blood trickling into his mouth
-had a graffiti phase as a teen that never fully left and because of it he writes in all capital letters. this is great when they need something written down where no one can read it. (the 141 probably had a meeting where they went over how to read his handwriting)
-has dreams so realistic he wakes up confused wondering if it was a memory he forgot about even if it didn’t make sense
-military grade anger issues
-never fully grew out of his punk phase
-his childhood room was full of road signs and traffic cones
-is actually a hardass when it comes to training recruits (i think the proper term for privates in the sas is troopers but im calling them recruits cause that seems to be the term everyone uses)(everyone thought his bright attitude meant that he’s laid back and easygoing. no. he’s not. yall ever seen those videos of drill sergeants coming up with the most creative insults? thats him)
-randomly says “i am normal and can be trusted around military grade weapons”
-his journal from the og games is a must in the remaster sorry i don’t make the rules
GHOST
-can play guitar super fucking well, im talking full on fingerstyle ballads
-major staring problem, if he doesn’t want to talk to someone he’ll stare until they go away. sometimes stares at people for no reason. also stares when he wants something. he’s always watching.
-would be interested in getting into blacksmithing if he didn’t grow up poor and hates spending money on himself that isn’t out of necessity (seriously you need like 30k to start a forge)
-can and will obsess over damascus patterns in blades (i feel like his favorite pattern would be fish bone or those really complicated mosaic patterns. he gets soap into it too by showing him fireball patterns)
-never grew out of echolalia and because of this is amazing at mimicking noises (he mimicks smoke alarm battery low noises and phone chimes to troll people sometimes.)
-road rage, but its quiet fuming comments that make you grip the oh shit handle for dear life (“you better turn off your fucking highbeams or i can’t be blamed for the head on collision that’s about to happen”)(no one can tell if he’s serious or not)
-hates tin foil, hearing it or touching it makes him clench his jaw because it feels like he can feel it in his teeth
-secret sweet tooth, but it comes and goes. sometimes he’s disgusted by anything sweeter than white bread and other times he can fuck up an entire box of lil debbie cakes
-can hand sew efficiently and fast as fuck
-his favorite type of blanket is a heavy quilt
GAZ
-is aggressively hydrated and is one of those people who carry around those big 128 oz water bottles
-gets competitive over karaoke (it took him months to convince everyone to join and he only got the idea after finding out soap wanted to be in a band as a teen and that he spent days learning how to properly vocal fry)
-says WOO! when he’s super fucking excited (will throw his arms up as well if soap is around because the two of them are an echo chamber of emotion)(the WOO! might actually be canon theres a voice line in warzone)
-probably the most up to date on modern fashion trends (get this man a long cashmere coat he deserves it)
-he does own a bedazzled cap he found at a gas station though (it’s hideous)
-elaborate skin care routine (he’s conned everyone to have some sort of routine. especially ghost. he got so concerned when it hit him that ghost was always wearing the eyeblack)
PRICE
-listens to black label society (i won’t budge on this its not even a head canon to me anymore its fact it was revealed to me in a dream)
-plays solitaire (he’s a very high level and it took him less than a year to get there. no one knows where he found the time to play for that long)
-drives a manual and shames people who don’t know how to work a stick
-literature nerd (im talking all the classics and philosophy books this man can get his hands on)
-discovered tennessee moonshine and has thought about it ever since
-smacks people on the back of the head when they’re doing something stupid
-if anyone makes a negative comment on his facial hair he gives them the dirtiest side eye
GEN/MULTI
-gaz and soap carry those big contractor waterproof sharpies and leave gaz was here or soap was here everywhere they go (this stemmed from soap’s graffiti phase and gaz turned it into a competition. they once got into a competition on who could leave the most signs until price called them muppets and confiscated their sharpies)
-ghost put soap in air jail once, it was very effective
-gaz and soap go to the gym together and take photos in the mirrors after they’re done (somewhere there’s a photo of the time they got ghost to join and they even got him to flex an arm)
-ghost and soap are professional assholes to each other.
-none of the 141 are allowed play card games and gamble with each other because they’re all dirty charlatans
-price tried to stop smoking only once and carried around gum and peppermints. ghost stole the peppermints and soap wouldn’t stop asking for gum
-gaz and ghost are the only ones who really try to adhere to the lights out rule. price and soap can be seen drinking coffee throughout the day
-all of them can hold a grudge for life
-ghost clears his throat loudly when any of them smoke by him. or stares. depends on the say
-if any of the smokers see another outside smoking and decides to join them it turns into a drawn out conversation about the most mundane topics
-the 141 can have full conversations of pure sarcasm nons
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As per usual, info under the cut <3
IM BACK BITCHES!!!
Alright, here's the design stuff:
I wanted to go for kind of a Lois Lane vibe, including the way she gets all the way up in business she should not be up in. At the same time I wanted to bring the super cutesy gothic lolita style in at least a little. So I ended up going with a poofy short jumpsuit with bows and teddy bears. I would love to make a specific thank you to @themooncallsyou for suggesting I look at the Moschino 2022 spring line for inspiration, it ended up having a very heavy impact on the final design.
I tried to lean into the investigative part of investigative reporter, so that's what the heavy coat is about. I thought adding that classic detective silhouette would be a nice final touch. Plus, I think Blondie likes the drama of the coat flying behind her as she's chasing down a lead. It makes her feel very cool.
Alright, so her original pet is a bear cub named Grizz but I have. Several problems with that. The main one is that it's not clear what the difference between Grizz and the actual sentient bears and her story is. There is never any differentiation between them. It's a Goofy-Pluto situation. Like it doesn't need to be explained, but the minute you start thinking about it too hard it gets weird real fast.
Anyways say hello to Honey the magpie!! Magpies are great mimics and lovers of shiny things, so I thought one would be a perfect fit for Blondie. She repeats bits of gossip and steals little trinkets and clues to help Blondie with whatever case she's on. Honey is where Blondie gets her infinite supply of bobby pins. Her scale is a little off, I don't think magpies are actually that big, but I still think she's cute so I'm not changing it now lol.
Now for character stuff:
Honestly I'm not really changing anything as much as I am exploring what's already there. I think Blondie has the potential to be really interesting, because she's unique within the class system of the school. She's kind of the inverse of Raven status-wise. Raven was born to royalty, but because her mom is the Evil Queen she's actually considered a commoner by society. Blondie was born to a wealthy commoner family, but her fear of rejection leads her to exaggerate the prestige of her lineage. Everyone sort of knows that she's not a Princess but she's so desperate to keep up the image of royalty that no one knows where she actually lands. Most of the royals assume her parents are Lord and Lady or Duke and Duchess or something. In reality they don't have any noble title, and Blondie is very insecure about that.
Blondie isn't so much ashamed of her family as she is terrified of exclusion and rejection. Her standing in society is the one major thing that makes her different from all the other royals, but she has major anxieties that she's always on thin ice. In her mind she's permanently one wrong step from total ostracization.
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On a happier note, she does have a genuine passion for journalism! She considers her news blog/podcast practice for her future career. She starts out discussing school drama and gossip, but tries to stay a neutral third party. That's why her hair is so big. It's full of secrets. As the story goes on she starts reporting on more political and social topics beyond the boundaries of the school (and therefore becomes one of Milton Grimms worst nightmares). She is really, really, really good at getting into shit people do not want her to get into. She's got her eyes on prize and good luck stopping her
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sseniita · 3 months
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breaking generational trauma*
*pls give me a better name for this, im going insane
“She’s like me.” 
The villain stared at the child bouncing in the hero’s arms. The hero’s expression wasn’t unlike one she had when she begged for mercy on behalf of a civilian. Simpler, it was similar to when she had begged the villain to take care of her dog while she was away on a mission or when she wanted the last slice of pizza. Overall, the helplessly hopeful demeanor on the hero's face was one villain had become not only familiar with, but also weak against. 
“Hero, where did that come from? Put it back.” urged the villain, gesturing towards the bundle of blankets in her arms. 
“I can’t! I won’t!” The hero held the child closer, protectively, as if the villain was the one being irresponsible here. 
“Like you?” The villain asked, intrigued. “There is no one like you, Hero.” 
The hero readjusted the child on her hip, freeing one arm to grab paperwork rolled up in her back pocket. “That’s what I thought! Look!” She hastily handed over the crumpled up letters to the villain. It didn’t take more than reading the title for everything to click. 
“Experiment 02? You mean-?” 
“She’s from the same tests! We came from the same lab! They were going to do exactly what they did to me- to her-”
“Because of the success you were. I get it.” There was a pause between them for a second. 
The hero was godlike in some ways and machine-like in less important ways. A literal biological weapon, forged since birth. It was an experiment, you could go so far as to call it an accident. Purposeful or not, the hero was the result of a successful lab sourced super-power. It had taken many years for the hero to come to terms with how she became the hero she was, and even longer to investigate and ultimately discover who was behind all of it. Evidently, she had. 
“I can’t let them do it again.” She whispered, holding the child closely to her chest.
It was six months into knowing each other that hero confessed she didn't like being a hero. It was eight months later the villain found out why.
The villain sighed, motioning for her to walk into his apartment. Once they were comfortable on the villain’s couch, he began to ask a million questions. 
Where? A hidden lab. Why? She couldn't leave her there. Her answers we stable and much too clear of mind considering the hero had just stolen a child.
“How old is it?” He finally asked, skimming through the lab documents. 
“It's her. And about 4 months, I think. I just don’t get why they’re starting now. I never found any evidence to show they were doing anything before.” She restlessly bounced the baby. “I just don’t get it.”  
The villain raised a brow at her, she raised one back. “What do you know?” she scooted closer to the villain. 
“Superheroes are either decommissioned or retire around 50. But most lose relevance and popularity by 30. Whether it be they can’t keep their figure, or a newer, shinier thing comes around.” He scoffed. “Never ceases to amaze me” he said half-heartedly, staring down at the documents. The hero’s mouth dropped. 
“I just celebrated my 25th birthday?! You’re saying I’m old and ugly?!” The villain rolled their eyes. 
“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re perfect and probably always will be." He realized what he had just said, he quickly interrupted the hero as she was about to open her mouth. "It’s just how it goes. Once you reach 30, people aren’t as interested. It’s fucked.” The hero quickly caught on. 
“So, she’s my replacement?” 
“Seems like it. Nova, she’ll be called once she turns 15. Thankfully, tests hadn't started on her. They had her on weird ass diet to prepare her, though. You caught her in time.”
The hero was sitting close enough that the villain could peek at the baby’s sleeping face. She was so serene and had no idea what had already been laid out for her, all the pain and suffering, in the name of good. She’ll have no choice. Just like the hero. The villain often stared at the hero in the domestic settings they sometimes found themselves in. He’d imagine her on a lunch break from some normal, boring office job when they got late night coffees during the hero’s night shifts. Or at a dinner party whenever they teamed up and went undercover at some fancy party. God- he would have given anything to save his hero from the fate that was chosen for her.  The little girl had chubby cheeks and looked so dreadfully soft. Just like the hero.
Shit. The villain thought, looking at the baby. I have a chance to save you. 
  The villain sighed and leaned back, done reading the crumpled pages, discarding the documents on the coffee table, defeated, just like that. It only took 10 minutes. Maybe he had gone soft.
“Eloise. Her name is Eloise.” He exasperated.  It was heart wrenching to hear the hero start to coo at the baby. “No living family.” He hammered the last nail on his coffin. 
“Hello, little Lulu. Is that your name? Lulu? You’re so cute! Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you” She baby-talked, pecking kisses all over Eloise's forehead, evidently disturbing her sleep. “Oh sorry- sorry!” she whispered to the baby. 
She turned to the villain, eyes twinkling with hope. “I can keep her? Right?” The villain crossed his arms. 
“Hero, I’m not going to tell you what to do.” 
“Haha- that’s your way of saying you unconditionally support me.” She said as she cuddled the baby even closer. 
“Please let that child breathe, hero. You can’t hold her too close.” He reached a hand to push the baby a little further away from the hero’s chest. She beamed. “You’d be a great dad! Already keeping me in line!”
Please don’t start. 
 Despite himself, he looked for the best way to act disinterested and yet not fully close the window on that chance. 
“No hero. I know how much this means to you, but I’m not taking care of a baby. I’m not sure if you’ve forgotten- I’m a villain. This is no environment for a child- even if I wanted one. You have my approval if that’s what you’re looking for, but that’s it.” 
The hero ignored that, making a show of looking around the villain’s extremely cosy and expensive flat. Dark green wallpaper with flowers, a white brick fireplace with old books on the mantel. The place was decorated with the plushiest of carpets, and liveliest of plants. Each curtain hid a beautifully ornate window overlooking one of the safest areas in the inner city. The hero could see the hero offices which she resided in from here. Finally, her stare landed on the large spare bedroom where not only did the hero have a drawer of her things but had also spent countless nights in, recovering and playing patient to a medically trained villain. She raised her eyebrows at the villain. 
“No.” 
“Please.” 
“Hero. You are always the one saying you wanted a family. This might be your only chance- ok, I get it. But she can’t stay here. 
“I live in the dorms of the Hero Offices with 20 other heroes! I don’t and can’t have my own place! I’ll be found out for sure! There are probably a million people looking for her right now!”
“Hero-” 
“Villain please. I can’t let them find her. I need you.” She placed a hand on his thigh, seemingly not noticing the villain’s twitch. 
“Hero. I’m not a good person, you seem to forget. You cannot have that much trust in me-” 
“You are the only person I can trust. Please.” She begged. 
Perhaps the villain wasn’t the only one to blame, perhaps both of them had let this get too far. It started off normally, the fights, the one-liners, and bruises. And out of nowhere, the subtle flirting, the late night talks, the absolutely vulgar displays of emotions they’d never shared with anyone else, hit them like a brick. The hero had changed the villain’s life for the better. He no longer felt unbearably lonely and burdened, haunted by the constant terror and forcefulness of his occupation.
Villain had fallen in love months ago. And he had gotten far in distancing himself and learning to un-love. Now he had to take care of a baby with her that just happened to look like a perfect combination of both of them? His dark hair and tanned skin, her warm brown eyes and button nose. Just perfect. 
“Fine.” He squeezed his eyes shut as the hero leaned against him, setting her head right under his neck, thankfully she didn’t hurl the baby to give him a hug. Maybe I deserve kisses on my forehead for Gods’ sake. He quickly hurled that thought away. 
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!” She beamed, kicking her feet. “This means so much, you have no idea!” 
“Hero, this is temporary. If anyone finds out about this-” 
“Ya, ya, I know. Don’t worry. Everything will be ok! I’ll make sure of it!” 
The villain’s only hope was believing her. She was an atom bomb inside a 25 year old woman after all. Maybe he shouldn’t underestimate her. As she moved in towards the guestroom with Eloise, the villain watched intently, she set her down for a nap on the bed, and once she finally came out she looked determined and extremely excited. She plopped down on the couch making sure they were touching side by side so the villain could look at what she was seeing on her phone. Her fingers scrolled down a website titled ‘what to buy when you're expecting’ the villain groaned.
After an hour of the hero paraphrasing a multitude of blogs and villain jotting down notes, they had completed a list of things they needed to raise a child. The hero deflated when she mentioned how they’d have to skimp out on baby toys and clothes, but she quickly recovered after the villain reassured her money wouldn’t be an issue. Apparently villainy had its perks. 
“So what are you going to do about the corporation? Can you really make sure this won’t happen again?” The villain asked the hero from the entrance way. The hero walked over, baby in arms, the villain helped the hero get her coat back on. 
“Uh well. I maybe, sort of, accidentally, may have burned the place down…? Timidly she made eye contact with the villain who only chuckled. 
“I may have also stolen any hard drive I could have found and threw it in the river.” The villain’s laugh only continued as he put a hand on the small of her back and led her out the door. 
As they were walking to get a car seat- the first of many things on their list- the hero had asked the villain to hold Eloise while she used the lady’s room. She had been asleep when the villain got her but quickly after, she woke up. The villain immediately felt a panic and he feared she might start crying, he held her close, bouncing and hushing her to get her back to sleep. Eloise stared up at the villain for a long time before breaking into giggles, reaching her tiny arms up to touch his nose, getting the attention of the shoppers who started cooing at the handsome man rocking the baby with the loudest giggles ever.  
Right then and there, as he felt the tiniest, softest hands grab his nose, the villain knew he was completely and utterly wrapped around, not only the hero’s finger, but of these tiny fingers as well.
pt 2
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weirdmageddon · 7 months
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💿⚛️ davejade headcanons
sorry for leaving you guys waiting on this for like a week lol i kept being like “tomorrow for sure” but falling asleep but anyway here it is. i might add more to this if i think if anything but reblogs might not reflect the up to date source version so you can always find it here
most of these are pointing out stuff thats basically canon anyway but whatever lol. basically canon headcanons
dave tries to impress jade to get her attention because he likes her
this ones for you *misses hoop by 5 feet*
he doesnt mind jade’s inane riddles honestly. he isn’t perturbed by how she just knows things like rose is, because he doesnt think into it too far. he trusts her
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he spends a lot of time indulging in her interests and showers her in his music and poetry
they draw things for each other a lot <3 jade has the pictionary modus and seems pretty good at drawing and of course dave sent her sbahj as furries in the mail. sending jpegs over the internet is BABY NONSENSE. real boys send their childhood friend/crush pictures they drew for them through the INTERNATIONAL POSTAL SYSTEM to an unspecified island in the middle of nowhere, pacific ocean that gets packages dropped by plane so the recipient can tangibly hold it and hang it in their room
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actually i was going through the commentary and hussie addresses it as such:
“Also notice her SBaHJ furry poster, which was clearly a very thoughtful gift from Dave”
aww
jade would give dave a "cool" plushie of a tiger or something nd he keeps it on his desk . froot’s beautiful idea
he loves her plushie sensibilities. so much less unnerving than his bro’s phallic puppets. they're still soft but no cognitive dissonance this time about the softness coming from foam puppet ass hoorayyy
theyre still reading homestuck on act 4 but they understood them instantly
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jade humors dave’s ironic cool facade because it makes dave feel more comfortable without feeling too exposed, but it’s because of this that he feels like he can open up to her because she isnt prying. (im still not over the smile here btw. only jade could make dave smile after a fucked evening where he spilled juice on his turntables and accidentally skewered an innocent crow with his sword and broke his window this mf is TYPING. also getting a bit of joy out of the fact that the only visible suit on his cards-themed bedcover in this panel is a heart)
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but he knows that jade is not unaware of what he's hiding. couldnt even refute her lol
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from the knight’s perspective, it’s “i’m not as [blank] as i appear. i want you know that about me if i know you well and trust you, or i DON’T want you to know that about me if i DON’T know you well. the reason is that i want to know that i can trust you to avoid turning my insecurity into a Whole Thing”
basically she allows dave to take initiative when HE feels comfortable and confident in sharing the things he’s self-conscious about. this really helps him be comfortable and form a strong bond with her
dave would wrap his arms around her to “ironically” imitate a pair of tangle buddy squiddles (while actually concealing genuine affection basically unbeknownst to himself) but he winds up looking just a little too into it for just an “ironic” bit yall……
jade is slower to realize her deeper feelings since she shows love to everyone (so long as theyre deserving of it!!!) it just hits her one day that she actually Likes him in a special way, while for dave it is more dynamic and gradual but very on the downlow, expressed in creative acts and services
once dave actually recognizes he’s really caught feelings for her down the line, dave and jade happily do the tangle buddies hug all the time. its like their handshake. its their weird couple thing
these two when together as a unit they do not give a shit about what other people think of them
this shit lol:
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Creative Fucking Powerhouse the two of them
davejade ass song to me
jade is quite spacey and super appreciates dave’s level-headedness and steady pragmatism while at the same time not being a rigid stick in the mud about it. for example when they were acting as each others’ server players dave was advising her but it was appreciated by jade
sorry its just literally socionics duality LITERALLY THIS IS THEMMM (also i spent WAY too much time making these graphics and integrating texts from multiple sources please appreciate it)
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fittingly with that, as ouroborista writes about the opposite space-time aspect dichotomy,
Space and Time are the fundamental Aspect pair. Their job is to make shit take place. To create novelty. Between them they span not only all of existence but also the inseparable twin approaches of any creative project. Space goes for breadth, for ideas, for expansive, holistic input, while Time goes for needlepoint focus and a rapid-turnover ability to pull through on the prompt. There’s a reason why these are the two Aspects necessary for any successful session of SBURB.
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jade is literally always having a little giggle about him. dave is a funny guy. lame court jester ass boyfriend
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he’d draw his post-ironic fursona and show it to her with the usual deadpan expression on his face, eyes obscured by his shades. but jade will look at it and when he sees her smile and laugh it makes it all worth it. his cheeks feel warm and he’ll smile slightly like “heh heh”. dave the type to smile like an idiot over anything jade does like his mouth keeps making a thin line and hes trying to fight it but . Jade
dave thought jade looked absolutely stunning in her 3 in the morning dress his mouth probably stupidly hung open the tiniest amount seeing her after swapping into it
of course she only wears it for what she considers "very special occasions"…..spending time with dave seemed to be a very special occasion :)
jade think dave looks sharp in his suits!!
imagine jade adjusting daves crooked bowtie and lapel and his palms start to sweat and he darts his eyes from behind his shades and chews the inside of his cheek she making him nervous bro 💯
jade is definitely the teaser and dave is the teased. still i dont think jade teases dave as much as john and rose which is why he feels more comfortable opening up to her about his shit. her teasings are much lighter and inconsequential
despite how funny and informal he is dave is a classy well-put-together romantic. he is responsible and harmonious in how he choses to present himself. remember when he got secondhand embarrassment from rose when she was drunk before her date with kanaya and he suggested to her and kanaya that the two reschedule? … he’d NEVER do something like that. sober. suit is ON. hair is neatly combed. he is right on time, not too early not too late, and his first words are “yo whats up”
dave has this designated driver energy about him
after dogtiering jade’s dog ears can perk and flatten, adding even more expressiveness
jade has so many hobbies and interests i think she’d get dave into horticulture somehow unironically
theyre both the kinda mf to ask “would you still love me if i were a worm”
dave’s hands are warm
jade’s skin can be cool to the touch in some places like the back of her arms or shoulders and dave places his hands there to warm them. or by rubbing them or something
idk just some associations space is cool and time is warm to me. the vaccuum of space is cold and time is associated with gears which are associated with generating heat and dave’s classical element is fire and jade’s is earth and her planet is initially covered in snow and daves is covered in lava idk…. just makes symbolic sense i guess but its also cute in its own right
dave would love going to the beach with jade on earth c cause the ocean is so boob i mean boob i mean boob i m,ean boob i mean SHIT . blue. blue
this Fucking animation bro
she infodumps about science and he sits his ass down to listen
jade does this (excuse the fact that the url is roselalonde)
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