#this is also kind of long woops
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ik you said you're not active on this blog but if that's the case, have you considered allowing more mods on this blog perhaps? it's true that the sticker maker site has cleaned stamps but it by no means has all of them and it doesn't really seem to be getting updated, so it's not like this blog is useless
i have considered it but i dont think any of my friends would be interested & id rather it be someone i know ykyk ? and while they dont have every single stamp cleaned i do think its a better resource than this blog because it seems like there are far more cleaned and theirs are usually not as messy ! however if anyone is interested i could try and make a little tutorial on how i do clean stickers so people can do their own ? maybe maybe
#ALSO i saw ur other ask a while ago and i forgot to respond to it im so sorry orz#this is also kind of long woops#≫∘❀♡❀∘≪ asks
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Doppelgänger
Miguel x Fem!Reader
TW/CW: Angst, self-image issues, mentions of childhood trauma, addiction, our mans has had it rough as fuck™
A/N: Brought on by this post from @tarjapearce and the comments i made (I'm sorry i am a ho for some angst sometimes) I'm merging ATSV stuff with comic stuffs because NO WAY IS HIS MOVIE DESIGN LIKE THAT ON PURPOSE WITHOUT IT POSSIBLY COMING UP IN FUTURE MOVIES ASDFGHJKL
Taglist: @tojishugetiddies
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You came home and it was quiet. Quiet and dark; and already you knew something was up. You left Miguel sleeping so you could attend to some meetings and paperwork at your office, and pick up a few groceries.
Miguel had been acting strange the past few days. You'd asked him if it had something to do with work and he simply shrugged the question aside, like it was a small chip on one of his broad shoulders.
You'd asked him what was bothering him again, and he simply stared at the carpet, muttering something you didn't quite catch, and he went straight to bed.
You were so worried you'd even texted Gabriel on your walk home:
Hey, Gabe...
Heyyyy! If it ain't my favorite brother's girlfriend!
You couldn't help but roll your eyes with a soft snort. You only have one brother, Gabe.
No no, chica, I meant that you're my favorite of any girlfriends he's ever had. 😂
Gabe that sounds a little... Bad. 😬
Does it? Woops! Anyways, what's up? My big dumb, brick-house brother do something to make you mad?
No, Gabe... He's acting weird. Has been for the past few days, and he won't open up to me. I'm worried.
You could see the chat bubble pop up over and over again with '...' signifying that he was in the process of texting. With how many times it popped up and went away you were expecting a bible scripture's length of a text wall.
But what you got instead made your heart sink.
He saw our mom. She... She brought up Tyler.
Oh, god. You knew that Miguel and Conchata had a rocky relationship. Miguel had told you why. It was so bad, even just recalling everything, that you felt Miguel's pain like it was your own.
You also knew that Miguel's biological father, Tyler Stone, was the one that manipulated him, that used him, got him addicted to Rapture and almost killed him...
But it wasn't even the real dose of Rapture. It was simulated. Just another manipulation tactic. It was overhearing that conversation that Miguel found out the truth of his heritage, and you could tell that nugget of knowledge permanently chipped his sense of identity.
Even moreso when he confessed to you about Gabriela--
Your phone pinged.
They fought. It was... It was ugly. I... I didn't know about Tyler. God, chica, I didn't know. Dad was...
You felt your heart flop, knowing poor Gabriel was shielded by Miguel for so long so he didn't have to suffer like he did at the hands of their gaslighting and manipulative mother, his sadistic sperm donor... Miguel wanted nothing more than to protect Gabriel from that pain.
Your fingers flew fast on the little keyboard, a few spelling errors here and there;
God, Gabri im sory you had to fidn out that way
I know. It figures Miguel would have told you, before me, tho. He loves you.
He loves you too, Gabri. God, more than you know. He loves you.
I know. He was trying to keep me safe and out of Mom's drama.
No offense, Gabri, but if I ever see that woman I'm rearranging her face with a shovel.
OMG. I mean... After the things she said to Miggy, I... Kind of want her to at least feel consequences of her actions, y'know?
Oh, she will. Don't worry. Thanks for telling me this, Gabri.
Go cuddle my big brother and tell him I love him, k? Let me know how he's doing.
OMW home now, I'll text you when he's feeling better.
KK, see ya.
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Yeah. You knew for sure Miguel was still heartbroken when you came home after that.
You put the groceries away, a somber expression on your face as a million thoughts went through your head.
God, of course Conchata had to come see Gabriel at the same time Miguel was there. You wouldn't be surprised if either she could have tabs kept on him, just to... to try and lord her power over him somehow, like he was still that scared little boy, holding onto his baby brother, being his shield and buffer from their parents' fights.
That bitch had to have had a hand in Tyler using him the way that he did, that she had to have known about--
Your mind was knocked away from those dark thoughts when you heard glass shatter.
You dropped the bag of apples onto the ground, the fruits tumbling out and rolling across the floor as you made a mad dash to your bedroom.
Noting Miguel wasn't in there, you turned to the adjoining bathroom door, seeing faint light come down from below, small wafts of steam rolling out.
"Miguel?" You frantically called out, knocking on the door and leaning your ear against the smooth metal.
You could hear shuffling and the tinkling of glass shards, as well as the shower running; but no verbal reply.
You knocked on the door again, hurried and a little too hard, your fingers hovering over the control panel.
Before you could push a button, the door slid open.
Miguel was in nothing but a pair of boxers, leaning over your bathroom sink, his hands gripping the marble countertops, threatening to crack the material. Beads of water rolled down his muscular, tanned skin; droplets of water dripped from the ends of his thick, wavy chocolate locks, the natural curls more apparent thanks to the water.
That's when you noticed it. Your bathroom mirror, shattered into a hundred pieces, scattering the counter, floor, and in the sink.
Bright, scarlet droplets were on the floor, steadily building into small puddle from his right hand, his knuckles split, shards of the reflective material sticking out of it.
"I'll pay for it." His voice croaked out, unable to lift his eyes to meet your horrified gaze. "I just--"
"Oh, god! Miggy!" You breathed, reaching out, taking a step towards him, only to wince and hiss when the pieces of broken mirror stabbed the soft, delicate soles of your feet.
You gritted your teeth as the glass crunched, but you grabbed Miguel.
Instantly it was like a switch flipped inside of him, Miguel's head snapped up and he looked down at you, seeing the bloody footprints you now left on your tile.
He looked terrified at what he was seeing. How you just ignored the shards in your body in favor of frantically digging around one of the cabinets for your first aid kit.
"Bebita... I..." Miguel choked out.
When you found it, you killed the shower and stepped into the glass once again, pulling him into your room, and onto your bed, your feet leaving bloody prints as you walked, like macabre rose petals being left in your wake. Miguel had a large enough stride that he was careful to avoid getting any in his feet, but the smell of your blood permeated the air, it made him sick to his stomach. Not with disgust.
With guilt.
Of course, you checked him over first, plucking out the shards of glass from his knuckles and cleaning the cuts out with wound wash, ignoring the blood welling up onto the tile floor of your bedroom from.
You carefully roll his hand as you try to wrap the gauze around his knuckles. "Miggy, can you hold your--"
"I'm sorry." He interrupts.
You looked up at him, and only then do you see his face. Framed in his wet curls, his face was shadowed and haunted, his eyes dark and as tumultuous in a maelstrom of anxiety and fear.
You bring your hand to his cheek, caressing one of his sharp cheekbones with your thumb. "Baby, it's okay. It's just a mirror, I can--"
He shook his head, as if your touch to his face burned him like a hot iron.
He leaned over, grabbing your legs and pulling your feet into his lap so he can assess the damage, and return the favor of cleaning and dressing them.
"You're hurt because of me." He whispered sadly, dabbing the blood away.
"I'm hurt because of the glass, honey." You tell him gently, letting him apply the "honey" to the cuts in your feet, sealing them.
His massive hands encapsulated your ankles, his thumbs rubbing small circles as the rough pads caressed your skin. Like you were made of the delicate gossamer of a butterfly's wing.
He sits like that, not meeting your eyes. And god, did that hurt you so badly. You knew how important eye contact was with Miguel, he almost always went out of his way to keep eye contact when he was conversing with someone. Having him avoid your eyes... hurt.
Because you knew he was hurting.
"Miggy." You breathed. "Talk to me."
You move your feet from his lap and scoot closer to him, moving your face until he locked eyes with you again, and you could see the pain and the tears fill his own as he looked at you; his full, pouty lips trembling in an effort to hold his emotions at bay.
His shoulders dropped low, and Miguel leans forward until he was practically bent in half, clinging to you, burying his face in your chest as he fisted your shirt in his hands.
You rubbed his shoulder with one hand, biting your lip as he softly cried into your blouse, your other hand combing through his messy wet hair.
You stayed like that, for what felt like hours. You weren't sure how long it was exactly, with the blackout curtains drawn and the lights off. The only light that dimly illuminated the room was from your bathroom, and the open door.
He finally calmed enough to speak, to explain why he shattered the mirror.
"...I look like him." Miguel said, his heart in his voice, his soul stripped down and naked with raw pain.
"Mig--"
"God, I look like him. That... that cabrón." He hissed, tugging your shirt in his fists.
"I look like that bastard that... that made me into this." The self-contempt in his voice broke your heart.
You kiss the top of his head, murmuring against him. "No, you don't, baby."
"Yes, I do!" He snapped, pulling himself away from you and throwing himself to his feet. He paced like an angry tiger in a cage, waiting to swat at whatever keeper dared enter his enclosure. He didn't notice that he was stepping into the sticky, dried blood trails you left.
"I have his--his face. His fucking face--" He said, gripping his hair in his hands, tugging as he started to hyperventilate. "My fucking nose, my fucking cheeks, my fucking lips--they're all him! I'm not allowed to be me, every time I look in the mirror I see him! I can't ever get away from him! He's a part of me, he always will be! I fucking look like him!"
You get to your feet, ignoring the throbbing in your soles as you dared to reach out, to touch the pacing tiger.
Your hands smooth up his back, gently, softly; then back down until they wrapped around his mid-section.
You feel him, how tense he is, how his muscles flex at your touch almost like he's bracing himself for some kind of blow that simply will never come from you.
You rest your cheek against his back, feeling how hot his skin was burning.
"Baby. You don't look like him. You aren't him, and you never will be." You whisper.
You plant kisses wherever you could reach, not letting him go, feeling his body shake with each shuddering breath as your soft lips made contact.
"More importantly, Tyler will never be you."
"I--"
You cut him off. "Listen to me... Did Tyler figure out multi-dimensional travel, build a strike force of super-powered people from across the multiverse? Does Tyler, almost every day, work to keep dozens--no, hundreds--of universes safe from monsters?"
He didn't answer.
"And did Tyler Stone protect your baby brother from your mother all these years?"
No answer.
"You are Miguel-goddamn-O'Hara." You tell him. "I love you, with trauma, quirks and all. I love your little scritch-scratches you make, the way your bottom lip pokes out when you pout, your crooked teeth when you smile. I love your ridiculously large body, I love how you hug me. I love the little snores you make when you fall asleep at your desk, how you crinkle your nose when you're about to sneeze.."
You feel his hands slowly rise to touch your arms where they're almost-locked around his larger frame.
"I love how sweet and gentle you are. I love hearing you curse to yourself when you shock yourself with your soldering gun... I love listening to you bicker with Lyla, or complain about one of the other Spiders bugging you." You place more kisses after each sentence; hoping each one plants a seed of love beneath his skin, to bloom into a garden that he can admire and love, not hate for the very skin he was born with out of illegitimacy and infidelity.
"Tyler Stone is not you. He never will be. He will never be as good as you." You sigh against his skin, feeling the goosebumps form in the cold of your room, now that the adrenaline of his anxiety was beginning to fade, and his body became aware of the water that was slowly drying and cooling his skin.
"I love you, Miguel O'Hara. You and no-one else. Don't ever think for a second that you don't have your own identity because of your genes."
He slowly turns in your grasp, looking down at you with raw, unclothed emotion as his hand touches your cheek.
"You're more than that. You're you, and I wouldn't have you any other way." You say, your tone set and jaw tight; every word you spoke carrying a hefty weight of seriousness and honesty.
He smiles, almost sadly as you feel the rough pads of his thumb against your cheek, the little talon there poking you but not breaking the skin.
"...I..." He said, his voice stiff as he swallows the lump in his throat.
"I really will pay for your mirror, you know."
You grin up at him and turn your face so you can kiss the palm of his hand.
"I know you will, Miggy."
"But I am curious... I felt like you were going to keep going with the affirmations." He said, raising an eyebrow slowly.
"Well, the last one..."
"The last one?" Miguel tilted his head down at you quizzically.
You grin at him again, your teeth showing and eyes creasing as you barely manage to reach around him, swatting his ass playfully.
"I also love the fact you have the nicest ass I've ever seen on a man."
He couldn't contain the snort that came out of him, and he reached up to cover his whole face with his other hand.
"Mierda..."
You giggle as you step around him, giving a playful swat to his ass once again as you walk by.
"C'mon, Miguel O'Hara. You got a broken mirror to clean up."
His shoulders lifted as he watched you, his eyes softer than you've ever seen as he smiled.
Yeah. You were right.
He was Miguel O'Hara.
And he was certainly going to pay you back for the smacks to his ass.
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel x reader#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara x you#miguel ohara#miguel spiderman#miguel o'hara#atsv miguel#miguel spiderverse
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Hello beloved 💕 please give me best friend Dino who helps you get the attention of your crush (any member surprise me) and it results in a messy, hot threesome 😭😭 as rough and as mean as you can muster.
a/n: well, well nana... you kind of did this to yourself! but i'll gladly write this for you <3 love you, hope you like it my beloved! thank you @playmetheclassics for the banner ily <3
PAIRING: BestFriend!Richboy!Chan x Richgirl!Reader x TennisInstructor!Mingyu
GENRE: Smut (MDNI!)
WARNINGS: chan has dirty thoughts, fingering, finger sucking, bit of exhibitionism, once again chan and reader in an elevator, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, mean dom!chan, kinda mean dom!mingyu, degradation (usage of the words: slut, whore), pet names (baby, princess, good girl, baby girl), orgasm denial, tit job, cum eating, creampie
WORDCOUNT: 5.6k (woops)
Requests are open!
Check out my 1k special!
Chan knows you incredibly well. He knows when you’re happy and when you’re sad. Knows when you like to be left alone or when you crave attention. That’s what being a best friend is all about, he thinks. He also thinks that you’re extremely oblivious to the huge amount of attraction he feels towards you. Because besides all those things he knows, there are more things he knows. It’s comical, really, how little you understand what effect you have on him, or anyone really. You don’t know that Chan dies a little every time you take off your clothes in front of him when you change into something comfier. You don’t know how many nights Chan had fought himself not to press himself against your backside when he slept over at your place - in your bed. Maybe it’s his own fault for not telling you, but Chan is content with where he is standing in your life and isn’t exactly keen on confessing he’d like to fuck you.
“You really think this looks fine?” Chan is sitting on one of the armchairs in the boutique you’re currently in trying on dozens of dresses for one of your Dad’s charity galas. The dress you have on now is off shoulder, long and gold and it fits you so perfectly Chan once again feels the need to drag you anywhere to just… he shifts in his seat.
“You look beautiful in every dress you’ve tried on before, Y/N. Just… pick one.”
“But I don’t know which one!” You turn around to face your best friend, pout on your lips and Chan sighs, closing the incredibly bland fashion magazine he had open on his lap.
“How about the most expensive one? I bet Daddy would be thrilled to see his little girl spend all his money on a dress again.”
Scoffing, you roll your eyes at Chan and look back at the mirror. Maybe this is the one. It’s a bit extravagant, but after all you are the daughter of the host. Chewing on your bottom lip, head tilted to the side, you think about why you’re even trying so hard in the first place. You think of thick arms, of polo shirts that strain against said thick arms, you think of tennis shorts barely able to cover the thighs you would love to sit on or between.
“Earth to Y/N,” Chan frowns, “will you take this or not? Our lunch reservation is in fifteen minutes!”
Bringing your head back to its normal position, you sigh dramatically again, throwing your hands up in the air.
“Fine! I’ll get this one.” Hurrying back into the changing room, you don’t notice Chan’s eyes following you, don’t notice the little crack between the curtain, that is supposed to hide your body from stranger’s eyes, and the frame. You don’t notice the hunger in his eyes when he sees the dress slide down your body, nothing but your pink thong adjourning your silhouette.
Fuck. Chan licks his lips, not able to take his eyes off you. He doesn’t see much, just a bit of your right side and yet it is enough to get his blood stream down south. Ridiculous, he thinks, he is getting absolutely ridiculous. Finally averting his gaze, he gets up, wiping his sweaty hands off on his jeans and looks up when you come out, the dress hanging inside the changing room still as you wave over an employee that gladly takes it to the front with you.
“I’ll wait in the car.” Chan says now and you nod, giving him a smile as you follow the lady to the cashier, your Dad’s credit card already in your hand and ready to solve its main purpose: make you happy.
Lunch is uneventful, except for the fact you finally come clean about your crush on your Dad’s tennis instructor. Chan stares at you, his cute forehead in cute little frowns. Most about Chan is cute. Or at least it used to be. Ever since he started hitting the gym things have been different, but you had decided a long time ago that no dirty thoughts about your best friend were supposed to enter your head, ever.
“Wait, his tennis instructor? Jesus, Y/N, you know your dad would never ever let you date him.”
“That’s the fun in it!” You beam at him, bringing your glass to your lips and taking a sip.
“You’re unbelievable. And… and wait, he is coming to the charity event? How on earth did you get your father to invite him?”
“Oh, that was easy. I just told him it would be a fun idea to mix the crowds. You know, get all the instructors and managers from the club to the party, have them take place, feel as if they are actually a part of high society for once instead of just working for us. He was pleased by my innovative.”
Chan blinks at you, watches how you giggle and put your glass back down, how your tongue licks over your lips to catch some left-over ginger ale. He decided he really needs to get someone to fuck in the next few days or else he is going to explode.
“I can only repeat myself: You’re unbelievable.”
“Thank you. Anyways, I’ll need you to help me out at the gala.”
Chan’s ears perk up at that and so do his eyebrows.
“My help? With what?”
And here comes the reason why you really told him about your crush.
“I need you to talk to him, About me. You know, just… play wingman. Tell him what a great girl I am, how much I do for charity, that I always keep up with the news, that I read a lot-,”
“So, you want me to lie to a man I’ve never met? Gotcha.”
You shoot him an angered look.
“No, I want you to… exaggerate the truth a little, that’s all.” You pick up a cherry tomato with your fork, while Chan shakes his head, laughing.
“I haven’t seen you pick up a book in years, not to mention the news? Please, do you even know there is a war going on?”
“Shut it.” You throw your napkin at him.
“I am serious, Chan. I want him. And you’re my best friend, so you’re gonna help me get him, isn’t that right?”
Something inside Chan shifts. He feels something like jealousy roam through him and another frown appears on his face. Jealousy? Since when did he feel jealous about you and any guy? He had watched you go home with tons of dudes before, had even seen you give head to one (it was involuntarily and not on purpose and to this day he hadn’t told you (it had also been the main point of many of his fantasies since then)), so why on earth was he feeling this way right now?
“Right. And what’s in it for me?”
“My love and affection?” You grin and Chan rolls his eyes, a small smirk still playing on his lips.
“Fine, I’ll help you,” he stops for a second, contemplating something in his head, his smirk turns bigger and his head tilts to the side, “I’ll help you under one condition.”
“And what’s that?” You lean back, attentive look on your face. Chan copies your movement. Then, his smirk turns smug.
“I’ll let you know at the night of the party. Alright?”
And because you would have never thought of what his condition turned out to be, you happily agreed.
The night of the gala comes sooner than anticipated. You find yourself in your golden gown at the front of the room on stage with your parents, you and your mother standing by your father’s side as he welcomes everyone to the event and thanks them for coming. You barely listen to him, eyes roaming the room for one special person - only to be greeted with something, or more, someone else.
Chan is standing at the back of the room, a glass of champagne in his hands. He looks absolutely incredible. Black tux fitting like a glove, a slim tie around his neck. There is a vest underneath his jacket, the white dress shirt seemingly glowing in the light of the room. His hair is blonde. It wasn’t blonde two days ago. Your mouth is dry and a traitorous throbbing is right there between your legs. To make matters worse, he is turning around to someone you hadn’t noticed before even though you had been looking for him.
Mingyu nods at something Chan says, his gelled back dark hair showing off his sculptured face. He was also wearing a black tux, definitely not as expensive as the one Chan was wearing, but definitely not less expensive looking. Your head is droning. How did Chan find Mingyu already? And how do they look so good together?
Meanwhile, Chan is talking to Mingyu. He had recognised him from a picture on the club’s website. Posing with your Dad, shaking his hand as he smiles into the camera. Chan knew right then that this guy was right up your alley.
“You’re friends with Mr.Y/L/N’s daughter?” Mingyu asks as he looks over at the stage where he spots you. His eyes are taking in your body in that dress, drinking in every single bit of you he can for as long as he can without it being obvious. Chan nods, a small grin on his face.
“Yes. We’ve been friends for years.” He confirms and Mingyu, even though he doesn’t want to take his eyes off you, looks back at him.
“I see. So you go to these things often?” The hand that is holding his glass is moving in a circle, as if to underline what he was talking about. Chan nodded, bringing his glass to his lips.
“Unfortunately, yeah. My parents are here somewhere too, they have been doing business with Y/N’s family for as long as I can remember.”
Mingyu nods again, following Chan’s movement and sipping from his glass as well. Then, his eyes fall back on you. You, who is standing next to your mother, your one hand holding your clutch beside your body and the other holding the glass of champagne that he is also currently drinking. He wonders if it would taste better from your lips.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Chan suddenly asks and Mingyu feels caught. Clearing his throat, he slowly looks at the man next to him.
“Well, yes.”
“I’m glad you think so. She actually has her eyes on you, you know.”
Mingyu thinks he heard wrong. His eyebrows shoot up.
“She has what now?”
“Her eyes on you. She’s the reason you’re here tonight. Made her Dad invite all the instructors and managers from the club, just so she could get a chance to see you here.”
Heat shoots through Mingyu, heat that is somewhat a mixture of flattery and embarrassment. He decided to focus on the former and lets a small grin spread on his lips.
“Is that right?”
“Yup.” Chan drinks again before falling into friendly applause like the rest of the room when your father ends his speech. He doesn’t think he even caught a single word of it aside from “Welcome everyone”.
“She wants to fuck you.”
Mingyu goes still at that, his hands freezing mid clap. Again, he lets his eyes settle on you and how you kiss your father on the cheek, how you then continue to walk down the steps of the stage. He can see the slit in your dress, the way your leg looks, the high heel accentuating it even more and making Mingyu lick his lips.
He couldn’t lie - whenever you came to the club to either visit your dad, take your own lessons (which he was still about not being able to take over) or to simply sit by the pool up top; Mingyu would always sneak looks at you. You definitely were on his mind more than you probably should’ve considering your Dad tipped him more than any other person he trained. But he couldn’t help himself, not with the way you looked in your tennis skirt, in your polo shirts, in your bikini. He had to stop himself more than once from going to the next bathroom to jerk off to the fresh image of you in his head. Pathetic, really.
And now, here he is with your best friend who tells him you want him just as much. Mingyu’s grin turns cockier.
“How convenient,” he says, “I really want to fuck her, too.”
Chan takes you by the arm, leading you outside approximately five minutes later. The gala is, conveniently, held in one of the top hotels of the city and Chan had been kind enough to book nothing less but the penthouse for you and Mingyu… and him. Mingyu is already up there, waiting for the two of you.
(“You won’t mind if I join, right?” Chan looks at Mingyu with one crooked eyebrow. Mingyu chuckles.
“Oh, absolutely not. I actually think that’s a brilliant idea. Did you have her before?”
“Nope, it’s about time, though.” Mingyu nods, clinking his glass against Chan’s.
“Well, I am looking forward to fucking her with you.”)
“Chan, what-”, but you don’t get far because the second you’re out of sight from the room, Chan has you pressed against one of the grand pillars, knocking the air right out of you.
“Mingyu is upstairs waiting for you.” His breath hits your face and you feel goosebumps erupt all over your body. With wide eyes you can’t help but stare at him, his voice ringing in your ears.
“And I think I’m ready to tell you my condition, baby.”
Baby. Your thighs press together.
“W-What is it?” You stumble out, feeling Chan suddenly part those pressed together thighs with his own. You gasp. He smirks.
“The condition is,” his lips are right by your ear, his hands gripping your hips, “I get to join.”
When you suck in a breath, Chan kisses you roughly. Your eyes roll back before squeezing shut, your hands automatically finding his neck as his tongue slides into your mouth, a breathy moan slipping from your mouth into his. Chan feels himself grow hard already and he moves his one hand down, over your thigh to the slit of your dress and you whimper when you feel his fingers gliding over your core.
“You think that’s a good idea, baby? Me coming upstairs with you? Me fucking your pretty little pussy like I should have done ages ago, hm? What do you say?”
Honestly, you’re not sure how he expects you to answer with his fingers shoving your underwear to the side and sliding them through your folds. So, instead of using your voice, you nod your head, chasing his lips with yours again. Chan chuckles lowly, moving his head back, leaving you without his kisses.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he makes, “so, so needy. Tell me, Y/N, are you a slut?” You bite down on your lip, your hips moving against his fingers that are still seemingly aimlessly roaming your pussy. But you know better. Know that he is teasing you. Even though you’ve never been intimate - you know.
“Answer me. Are you a slut?” His index and thumb find your clit, pinching it right then and you moan out loud, your head falling into yet another rapid nod.
“Y-Yes, I am. I am a slut, Chan.”
“That’s what I thought.” He pulls you close again, lips crashing into yours at the same time as his fingers find your sopping entrance, pushing in two right away, your leg moving to wrap around his thigh.
“F-fuck, Ch-Chan!” You cry out, breaking the kiss and Chan’s other hand is right there underneath your chin, holding it up.
“Shut it, slut. Or do you want someone to hear Daddy’s perfect little girl getting finger fucked in the hallway of his oh-so important business event?”
His fingers work at merciless speed and you shake your head, pressing your lips together to somehow maintain your moans inside. Chan takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, bite at your shoulder and suck a pretty red mark onto your collarbone, all while you stay quiet with your pussy sucking in his fingers like a starved man eats his bread.
“God, you’re so tight, can’t wait to feel your pussy squeeze my cock like that.” Chan whispers into your ear before pulling his fingers out and bringing them to his face, sucking them clean. The view makes your mouth drop and your pussy cry.
“Channie…” The reality of how hot you find your best friend is suddenly crashing down on you. There he is; his fingers that were just inside of you in his mouth, his eyes dark and his hair blonde. This is crazy. You are crazy.
“Mingyu is waiting, baby. Don’t you want to go upstairs?” His voice is sultry and has you swallowing as you nod, Chan taking your hand and leading you to the elevator. As much as you probably should think about what this is going to mean for your friendship, you decide that you’ll have time to figure this out later. Tomorrow, maybe. Or next week. Right now you just want to hold his hand and feel the throbbing of your pussy and think about what Chan and Mingyu will do to you. Together.
Behind you, a group of what are presumably tourists come to a halt, Chan’s hand creeping around your waist, your hand left vacant. His fingers feel hot even through your dress and when he pulls you closer, you suppress the urge to let out a pathetic little moan. You wonder if Chan knows how insanely turned on you are - until you remember he literally just felt your wetness.
The ping of the elevator makes you and the group of people move, you and Chan ending up at the end of it, the group pressing their respective buttons, while Chan kindly asks one of them to press the one for the highest floor. The penthouse. You almost chuckle at that because of course he would get the penthouse to do this. The people don’t seem to care much, or at least they don’t show you if you do and just continue their talking. The heat radiating from Chan mixed with the smell of his perfume almost drives you insane. And when you suddenly feel the hand that had been around your waist move, sliding up the slit of your dress, over the inside of your thigh, to then slip into your panties, thumb pressing down on your clit, massaging it sensually, you can already hear the van coming to pick you up to the psychiatric ward.
“Don’t make a noise, pretty baby, you don’t want all of them knowing what a little slut you are, hm?” He is right there, lips so close to your ear and you slightly nod, pressing your legs together, but Chan’s hand is in the way, his movements becoming harsher. Stars seem to be appearing in front of your eyes and you feel like your knees are about to give in. You try to concentrate on anything else, failing miserably. Chan’s breath keeps hitting your neck, his quiet voice continuing to say dirty things to you that make your pussy clench around nothing. He quickens his pace as more and more of the people leave the elevator and you are holding on for dear life, trying hard to stay put, to not make a sound, to not let anyone know what Chan is doing to you.
When finally there is no one left but you, Chan presses you against the wall, kissing you hard as his fingers slip inside you like they did back on the ground floor. He is fast and hard and his tongue is in your mouth, licking against yours like a madman. He swallows your moans and you lift your leg up, once again wrapping it around his thigh and you feel your orgasm closing in on you. When he brushes his thumb against your clit, just barely really, you cry out in pleasure, lips leaving him as your head bounces against the wall behind you, your moan loud and needy, his name dropping off your lips like a song. The doors of the elevator open with another ping and you come hard, Chan fucking you through your orgasm with your fingers.
“I see you already opened her up for us, how nice of you.”
Mingyu’s voice is something you should have expected but hadn’t. Still feeling the aftermath of your orgasm, you blink a few times, seeing Mingyu standing right in front of the elevator, a diamond glass filled with what you presumed to be whiskey in his hand. His tie was already loosened around his neck, a few buttons open and, fuck, just the sight of him made your pussy clench around Chan’s fingers. Chuckling, he pulled them out of you, once again sucking them clean.
“Common, go over to him, I know you want to.” Chan takes your hand, softly pulling you towards the opened doors of the elevator, Mingyu’s eyes set on you. You can see the fire burning in them already, sensing the heat coming from him even before you stand right there in his space.
“Hi.” You whisper, eyes looking up at the tall man, who smiles and tilts his head.
“Hi, pretty girl.”
It feels like a rush is going through you when you find yourself grinding on Mingyu’s lap with Chan sitting on the armchair next to the couch, a glass of gin in his hand as he watches you. Mingyu has his hands on your ass, guiding your hips against his crotch.
“N-Need it inside.” You cry out and Mingyu smirks, hands tightening their grip on your ass.
“Is that right? Do you need my cock to split you open, princess?” You nod rapidly, making him chuckle. He leaned forward, kissing your jaw, not moving to take out his cock at all. You whine.
“M-Mingyu, pl-please.” Never had you ever wanted a cock inside you as much as right now. You want to feel him, want to squeeze him. But Mingyu still doesn’t budge. His pants are open already and when you look down you can see the clear outline of his apparently huge cock and your mouth is watering.
“I think you need to learn a bit about patience, baby. Didn’t you already cum? And you are still being greedy?” His hand shoots down, slapping your ass and your head falls back as you moan, Mingyu licking his lips as he watches your body shake.
“You should suck him off, don’t you want his cock in your mouth, slut?” Chan chimes in, legs crossed as he watches attentively. Mingyu looks over at him, grinning.
“What a great idea, Chan,” he says, before looking back at you, “what do you say, will you be a good little slut and get on your knees for me?”
You do it. Of course you do it. Your mind is blank except for the need to please and be pleased. Your nimble fingers shove down his pants and briefs, them now pooling at his ankles and your eyes seem to pop out as you look at his cock, his leaking, throbbing cock, that makes your mouth water and more of your slick drip into your panties. You let your hand grab the base, your eyes wandering over the prominent vein at the side and the slit glistening with pre, then you look up at Mingyu who feels like he could probably shoot his load right onto your face if you just continued to look at him like that.
“Now, now. Get to it.” He orders and you nod, eyes back on his length in your hand. First, you stretch out your tongue, let it slide over his red tip and Mingyu groans quietly. He tastes salty and still somehow good enough for you to suck his tip into your mouth, hoping to milk more of him. The sounds he makes spur you on, causing you to begin bobbing your head, your hand jerking off the part your mouth can reach. Mingyu’s breathing grows labored and his hand finds the back of your head, gripping a fistful of your hair.
“Fuck, such a good girl, common, take more, I know you can.” He begins to shove you down and you gag when his tip hits the back of your throat. He revels in the sound you make, his hips bucking up.
Meanwhile, Chan has his cock out, stroking it lazily as he watches you on Mingyu’s cock. He imagines it’s his you’re choking on and wonders how wet you are right now. Precum leaks out of his cock and he uses it to rub himself with more ease.
“Can I fuck your throat?” Mingyu breathes out, his cock now in all the way and you nod to the best of your abilities. Immediately, he thrusts up, his head spinning from the way it feels to have your tight heat around him. He feels your throat restrict, sees the way tears build up in your eyes and he can’t help but move again, quicker this time. He loses himself in the pleasure, head thrown back as he moans your name, both hands on the sides of your face, holding you in place as he uses you like a toy. You love it. Love the tears that now stream down your face as you breathe through your nose, love the way he feels inside your throat, the way he will probably leave bruises. His moans make your core throb harder with every passing second and you sneakily let your hand move down, pressing down and circling your clit, the moan you let out having Mingyu’s cock twitch.
“Oh fuck, b-baby, gonna cum, can I cum down your throat?” He is still frantically fucking your mouth and you again nod as best as you can, having him shoot his load down your abused throat three seconds later.
“God, yeah, sh-shit, swallow it all for me, my perfect whore, swallow it, common.” He is riding out his orgasm, eyes squeezed shut as you do swallow it all, every last drop of his pleasure.
Chan now sees your hand, sees the way you try to make yourself come and he gets up, cock hanging in the air as his hands both grab you from Mingyu, who is recovering from his high.
“Think you can just touch yourself without us noticing? Stupid slut, come on.” He bends you over, your hands finding the small coffee table and without any warning, Chan tears off your panties, dress shoved above your ass and his cock rams into your needy core at godspeed. You scream his name, hands grasping the edges of the table and Chan slaps down on your ass cheek, eyes focused on the way his cock slides in and out of you over and over again. Mingyu watches from the couch, his spent cock twitching at the sight. He leans back, grabbing the glass he had discarded on the side table earlier, taking a sip as he watches Chan fuck into you.
“Ch-Chan!” You moan again, your hips trying to move, but he holds you steady.
“Don’t you dare cum, slut, you cum only when I allow you, got it?” Chan pulls your hair with his one hand, pulls you up against his chest, both of you standing up right as he fucks into you, your eyes rolling back, legs spreading lightly.
Soon, Chan changes the position, has you kneeling on the armchair he previously sat on, your torso hanging over the backrest as he fucks into you from behind. He grunts, rutting his cock into you quick and hard and it takes everything in you not to come undone.
“Pl-please let me cum, need to cum s-so bad!” You cry out, more and more tears streaming over your face, but Chan just spanks you once again, shaking his head.
“Shut up, only moan my name, got it? Don’t wanna hear another word.” He feels your pussy clench around him, feels the way you squeeze him, how you want to milk him and he chuckles evilly.
“God, you really are a whore, such a dirty fucking whore, likes to get her throat fucked and told what to do. Bet you’d be able to fuck yourself on my cock for hours, baby.”
You whimper, nodding as your body jolts forward every few seconds, Chan’s thrusts hard with no mercy in sight.
“Get her over here, I shall use those pretty tits for my entertainment.” Mingyu is fully hard again by now, and Chan nods, his cock slipping out of you and you sob, missing him already. Chan wraps his arm around your waist and softly pulls you off the chair, instead letting your dress fall off your frame, finally having you completely bare in front of him.
“Shit, you’re gorgeous, baby,” he mumbles, hands groping your tits only for a second before Mingyu clears his throat. Grinning, Chan moves you back to the couch. You get on all fours, Chan kneeling behind you, his hands massaging and slapping down on your ass, instead of his cock, his fingers find their way inside your sopping hole. There are stars dancing around your head at this point.
Mingyu licks his lips, he is leaning against the armrest, his cock in his hand. He watches the way your face contours in nothing but pleasure as Chan fucks his fingers in and out of you.
“Chan’s right, you are gorgeous.” The words make you clench and whimper and when Mingyu reaches for your arms, basically having you cage him in, Chan moving with your body, fingers pulled out of you so his hands could hold your hips in place. Your tits are hanging right over Mingyu’s cock now and he bites his lip, before bringing his hands to them, thumb pressing down on your stiff nipples. He can’t really reach them with his mouth right now, but fuck, the urge to put his lips around them is making his cock leak again.
“You wanna fuck her tits?” Chan asked then and Mingyu nodded, your hips moving against Chan's groin.
“You’re gonna let me fuck your pretty tits, baby?” Mingyu squeezes them hard and you nod frantically.
“Y-yes, pl-please fuck my tits, want your cum all over them.” Mingyu moans at that and soon enough his cock is engulfed by your breasts, the feeling of the slick from sweat skin around him almost too much at once. He begins to thrust almost at the same time as Chan fucks his cock back into you.
The two men have their way with you, fucking your respective body parts at their own speed and you feel like you’re about to explode. Your moans don’t stop, saying both of their names repeatedly, and only when Chan wraps his arm around you, thumb beginning to circle your clit do you realize how close to release you are.
“Ch-Chan, f-fuck, I’m so cl-close.” You stutter out and Chan smirks, pinching your clit with his thumb and index.
“Yeah? Is our little slut close? Do you think you deserve to cum yet?” Chan moves to slap your clit, a wave of pleasure shooting through you and when he does it again, you feel yourself leaking into the couch, your cum dripping down your thighs, leaving a stain. Chan twitches inside of you, realizing he just got you to squirt - even before your orgasm. He curses under his breath.
“Fuck, Mingyu, look, our dirty slut squirted all over the couch.” He feels his balls tightening, feels his head spinning, his vision going blurry as he comes, thick white ropes of his juice landing inside your pussy, getting fucked into you repeatedly by Chan.
Mingyu cries out, seeing the stain behind you and his eyes roll back as he slips his cock out of your tits and instead jerks himself off, his load landing all over your tits and collarbone the next second. Both of them climaxing in and on you gets you over the edge and your already overstimulated pussy squeezes Chan as you cum, exhaustion mixed with euphoria filling you, your eyes falling shut as you found yourself pressed against Mingyu, his arms around you as his cum now lands on his clothed torso. He doesn’t care in the slightest.
“Holy fuck.” Chan pulls out of you, sinking into the soft cushions of the couch, wiping the sweat of his forehead with the back of his hand. He watches you on top of Mingyu, your naked body, his cum dripping out of your core and he stares at it for a moment, fascinated by the way how pretty your pussy looks when it’s spent like that.
“You did you well.” Mingyu kisses the top of your head and you sniff against his neck, feeling like all energy has left your body all while you’ve never felt this satisfied in your life.
“Let’s get you into the shower, baby girl.” He continues then, helping you sit up, your chest still smeared full of his cum. He sighed at the view.
“Fuck, you’re so hot.”
He gets up and pulls you with him, picking you up into his arms bridal style and you giggle as you look over at Chan who still seems frozen in place.
“Wanna join?” You ask tiredly and Chan nods, sure that there was nowhere else he’d rather be than in the sower with you and Mingyu right now.
#svthub#svt smut#dino x reader#mingyu x reader#chan x reader#dino x you#mingyu x you#mingyu smut#dino smut#seventeen smut#seventeen au#seventeen imagine#svt au#svt imagine#mingyu au#mingyu imagine#dino au#dino imagine#changyu smut
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SPOILERS WOOP
AKA ME OVERANALASYING, AS USUAL
THIS
THIS SCENE
WAS REALLY FUCKED UP LIKE WTF PELO HOW DARE YOU MAKE ME FEEL THINGS
It's just the fact that Moloch is using them against Father Gregor, Michelle had already talked to him and left clear how much she missed her son, how he seemed to be only thing she had left apart from her cats and how religion was her last hope for him to be saved, he said he would do whatever he could and not long after that he is meet with THIS
He saw Dexter asking for his mother, to add salt to the wound, he's asking it like a scared kid, after Gregor has been dealing with Skid and Pump all day who left clear that they have absent parents, this hit him hard, even if he knows it's not real, because it also confirms to him that he and his mother (likely) are dead
Dexter was,,, I mean he wasn't normal, after all he had the need to kill, but what I find interesting and sad is that he is trying so hard to control it, he got into a job where he can kill small animals in a morally accepted way, he also helped her mother take care of the cats (Tho I kind of believe the sick cat did not come back, but helped her anyway) and seemed to live with her or at least spend a lot of time with her
Going back to Deadly Smiles, he tried to control it, he didn't wanted to kill the kids until he couldn't take it anymore and just decided to do whatever it took to fulfill his needs, but other than that, he lived a normalish life, he tried to, and he would've probably managed to keep with it if it wasn't for Moloch
Oh and also HE. IS. NOT. DEAD.
THE UNIVERSE DOES NOT LET HIM DIE, HE KEEPS COMING BACK, FUCKING AFTON STYLE
This leads me to believe there's more about Dexter for the next episodes and holy shit, am I looking forward to see it
He's really a tragic character, I love him so much, sorry not sorry I am now a Dexter apologist, my boy did nothing wrong
#spooky month#Spooky month dexter#Spooky month michelle#spooky month father gregor#Spooky month spoilers
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🪶🌟💫 woop woop! a compilation of swap!aa5 drawings ranging from various levels of polish and incompleteness pftt <3
if you're curious who's swapped with who, feel free to refer to this and if you want more trilogy-aa4-centered swap au art, well i've got just the thing right here! and as always, feel free to send asks about the au and i'll try my best to answer! :^]
also coughs did you know i made a speedpaint for the aa5 lineup long ago on youtube it's over here....
i've accumulated a lot of drawings over the last two years so more stuff under the cut!
(about the thing with bobby being the phantom in this au, it's not actually set in stone! i'm kind of still deciding if he should still be the phantom or if the torch is passed to someone else but eh, i just like playing around with the idea nevertheless <3)
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#ace attorney#den's aa roleswap au#miles edgeworth#simon blackquill#athena cykes#klavier gavin#clay terran#juniper woods#bobby fulbright#constance courte#apollo justice#kay faraday#blackbright but just a lil bit#tw blood#cw blood#i know that its danganronpa looking blood its the only way i can stomach drawing it wheezes#aa5#dual destinies#aa5 spoilers#dual destinies spoilers#ace attorney roleswap#aa roleswap au#aa swap au art
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Here's the actually* short notes for the course, "The Science of Well-Being" from Yale on coursera, which is available for free. Mostly focusing on the actionable steps.
Point the first: We/society at large is often wrong about what makes people happy/have a sense of well being. Unless you've been reading into motivation, happiness, flow, etc, already, in which case you're likely right on track.
We adapt to both good things and bad things, so neither one effects us as much as we think they will. Our brains adapt to, and filter out stimuli after a while. If we want to get the most enjoyment out of something/life, we should increase variety and take breaks. Like, drink a different kind of tea every day, or take breaks when listening to music. Also, practicing gratitude, savoring (pausing and intentionally appreciating the good moments in life), sharing experiences with others, and recalling past moments of joy. Also, you can practice negative visualization, when you on purpose think of how awful the world would be if you didn't have something that you do have.
A good job is one that allows you to practice your signature strengths and enter the flow state.
The income-increased happiness plateau is somewhere between $75k and $500k- but I found a recent article** after the comments to this effect, and "Yet is important to note that the relationship is weak, even if statistically robust. The correlation between average happiness and log(income) is 0.09 in the experience sampling data, for example, and the difference between the medians of happiness at household incomes of $15,000 and $250,000 is about five points on a 100-point scale. The flattening and accelerating patterns are even smaller modulations of a small effect. However, the emotional effects of other circumstances are also small. KD reported that the effect of an approximately four-fold difference in income is about equal to the effect of being a caregiver, twice as large as the effect of being married, about equal to the effect of a weekend, and less than a third as large as the effect of a headache." Which says to me I'm making the right move by going to a 4 day work week :P But seriously, that's great news.
We think in comparisons, and comparison is the thief of joy. You can reduce consumption of images of people who are richer, cooler, more skilled, etc than you, and that will help prevent mood deterioration. You can also reframe to compare to yourself in the past.
Being kind makes you and everyone involved happier. Buying things for others makes you happier than buying things for yourself. Giving to charity makes you happier if it builds social connection. (Why the focus on buying things to make you happier? Why not on actions you can take to make yourself or someone else happier? Probably because giving someone $20 is easier from a study's standpoint.)
Get 7 or more hours of sleep a day.
Move 30 minutes a day.
Meditate- look into mindfulness, loving kindness.
Social connection- doesn't have to be a romantic relationship! Just interacting with others, even strangers, makes us happier (still sounds fake to me, but I'm like a mega introvert). Spending time with people you like is good.
Having free time is important.
Create an environment that supports what ever change you're trying to make.
WOOP = Wish, Outcome, Obstacles, and Plan. "What's your wish for your goal? What's your best outcome? What are the obstacles? What's your if-then plan?" Really helps with actually accomplishing your goals.
*I realized I said short notes before, but then somehow that ended up being super long.
** Income and emotional well-being: A conflict resolved by Matthew A. Killingswortha, Daniel Kahnemanb, and Barbara Mellers
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A list of (almost) everything MatPat got wrong about GenLoss:
"Generation Loss is an ARG." Generation Loss is actually quite transparent about not being an ARG. It has elements similar to an ARG, such as audience interaction, but there is a clear barrier between the story/characters and real life. One of the defining features of an ARG is the lack of this barrier.
"Ranboo is the Founder and orchestrated the entire show from start to finish."
"The teasers ask the audience to kill the Founder, and the finale ends with the audience voting to kill Ranboo, implying they are the same person." It was heavily foreshadowed that there are many generations to come, and also confirmed by cc!Ranboo several times. Killing the Founder in Generation 1 wouldn't make sense. That, and just because Ranboo died doesn't automatically prove that he's the Founder.
"Ranboo always makes choices that keep the performance on track." He is being controlled to do so. One of the very first details you can possibly notice in the series is that when the mask comes on, Ranboo is not in control of his actions.
"Ranboo doesn't participate in searching [in ep 2]." The Showfall announcement on twitter says that interactive elements are limited on episode 2, giving Ranboo no commands or agency of his own to actually help other than the limited audience polls. also the mask was reset in episode 2, placing him under even stricter control.
"Ranboo knows what is happening and will do anything to keep the show going." Since the very beginning teasers, Ranboo has been labeled The Hero. This name alone makes it obvious that Showfall has intended for Ranboo to be the protagonist, and thus the one that makes it to the end. Again, he's under control- even if he knows what's going to happen, none of his reactions or choices were truly his.
"Ranboo locked Sneeg in the basement, that's how he knows Sneeg was there for 6 months." There's no evidence that Sneeg actually was there for 6 months, given that the cabin is canonically just a set that they use. All we have to go on for this is a throwaway line (which GenLoss is full of throwaway lines). And Ranboo somehow "knowing" how long Sneeg was there isn't a direct implication of guilt, again considering that it's the set of a show.
"The Puzzler is scared of Ranboo." The Puzzler is the Bad-At-Being-A-Villain archetype. Him going "woops sorry" when he almost accidentally kills Ranboo is not him being "scared" of Ranboo. It's him being the goofy villain that Showfall wrote him to be. (Sidenote: Interesting that Matpat was implying that Jerma may have flubbed some lines, when the entire point of his character was to be as incompetent as possible. Saying the wrong thing was kind of... the point of the character.)
"Ranboo believes he is doing everything to help humanity." Yeah he lost me there. I don't even know what that's supposed to mean.
"Ranboo's death was staged" I'll give this one the benefit of the doubt. He may not have actually died, or he may have been brought back, but it's not because he was actually the one behind it all.
"The cooking show cutaways prove that Ranboo is still alive." The cooking show cutaways are obviously prerecorded, even in-universe. You have to consider that even in-universe this is still a live show. They would've had to have been prerecorded anyway. Even if these cutaways had been filmed after the fact for a prerecorded show, the cutaways still could've been recorded between episodes, as canonically there was a day in between each episode (where it's implied that characters go into an idle state).
Using cc!Ranboo's explaination about the rerecorded/remastered aspects of the Founder's Cut as evidence that gl!Ranboo is manipulating the footage. This would be a very interesting take on the idea and definition of Generation Loss as a concept, however cc!Ranboo has stated many times before that the Founder's Cut is solely to get past the limitations of the live setting. It also would not make sense that gl!Ranboo would be the one manipulating the footage, but we're too deep down the "Ranboo Is The Founder" rabbit hole to talk about that.
"The Founder's Cut will replace the original VODs, slowly changing the details until a distorted copy is left." Again, cool concept. But Ranboo has already confirmed that this is not the direction that the series is going. The VODs will still be up and the Founder's Cut is not meant to replace them, just make them easier to watch.
Conclusion: MatPat focuses too much on throwaway lines, in-universe jokes, and whiteboards, and ignores blatant visual clues such as the mask, morse code, and... just about everything really... for 16 minutes.
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Feral JD!!! I love this kinda stuff, and you already got some awesome art for it! I’ve been appreciating John Dory more and more lately, so it’s cool to find all the AUs
Got any specific scenarios you’ve been thinking about for him? Love to hear anything about it.
I also wonder about when he discovered he couldn’t read anymore, was he nonplussed? Disappointed? Didn’t realize it happened? How’d his brother figure it out and would they go about teaching him again?
I appreciate you! ✨💜👍 have a good day!
OOOOOOOOH I HAVE SO MANY ACUALLY
I'm having so much fun building his world out
I actually have a few scenarios in the works now and some mini comic ideas too, Just gotta finish them :]
The reading thing is actually an interesting point. To be honest it wasn't something I initial thought to hard about but now that you brought it up. Here are some thoughts I had on it.
(Also sorry this kinda long I got a bit carried away woops)
not being able to read does come as a shock to JD when he first realizes, It takes him a bit to come to terms with it and when he does realize its a "Shit, I really am a failure." kind of mentality.
Since he was just out in the wilderness reading and writing wasn't something he need to do, it was all about survival for him so something so simple as that never crossed his mind as a skill he could lose.
Not being able to sing/talk just sort of sprouted from when he turned grey and fully integrated himself to being alone, Truly alone. Just being by himself he never had a reason to speak, so eventual the years added up and he just couldn't figure out how to speak.
So I always figured Clay would be the first one to figure out that JD can't read. For some context JD has been away from any type of society for several years if not a whole decade at this point. just by himself out in the wilderness wander around from place to place. So loneness has set in hard and he hasn't had a conversation with someone since being on his own.
JD tends to approach his brothers when their on there own or hanging out with each other. He tends to avoid large crowds and sticks to the outskirts of pop village unless there is immediate danger within the village. They had a spider incident a week ago but JD dealt with that real quick. The village still has pretty mixed options on allowing him to stay but considering the brothers haven't even been able to get JD to come inside branch's bunker yet. It's not something the they have really considered or cared about yet.
Also for Clay figuring out JD cant read it would probably go something like this...
Being in a book club Clay can often be found reading books around pop village. So when its a beautiful sunny day. He decides that it's the perfect time to catchup on his latest book. That quickly becomes wishful thinking however when he feels the brush of fur against his arm. He's surprised to see John Dory crouched next to him head tilted leaning into his personal space. Just sort of staring at his book with a curious look on his face. He's not interacted this close to JD yet on his own, usually he only makes an appearance if Floyd or Branch are around. So being on his own with John so close makes him pretty nervous. Especially since previous interacts between the two of them haven't been the best. John may or may not have tried to attack him and Bruce at their first interaction. It was quite a shock to all the brothers when they discovered that not only Floyd but also John Dory had been kidnapped by the pop star wannabes. If Clay's being honest he didn't believe Floyd when he first told them that John Dory was still trapped some where in the dressing rooms. It didn't make any sense to him. Why would they keep leave John backstage for their big performance. Unless they had already sucked him dry of his talent. What they actually discovered Clay could have never seen coming. Their brother, their oldest brother was practically unrecognizable, In both behavior and colour. He still thinks about when they found him in that room huddled in the corner. The terrify snarl that came from him when they tried to get close. Heck. he didn't even know a troll could make such a noise. So what was he doing here with him now?
"Uh . . . hi?" Clay asked curiously his voice wavering slightly.
He could see John's ear tilt towards him so he must have heard him and was at least listening. Hopefully.
"what uh . . . what brings you here today?"
A low deep rumbled sounded out from John's throat has he lifted his hand nearest to the book and brought it closer to himself. Eyes flickering across the page. To Clay it looked as if he was trying to read the pages so without a word he tilted the book more towards JD and waited. Just watching him. As seconds turned into minutes he could feel the frustration growing inside his brother, from the way his brows knitted together, to the way he kept getting closer to the book. Like if he looked harder, tried harder it would all make sense. That was when it clicked.
He cant read. Clay thought.
He can barely talk, if grumbling even counts as talking. Can't read and chances are he cant write anymore ether.
With a scoff John shoves the book away from himself slides down from the rock to sit on the grassy earth below.
Clay felt odd. He wasn't sure what he was feeling. Pity? Hurt? No that wasn't quite right. Emptiness? A sense of loss? A mix of everything he guessed.
He never really considered how John must be feel. That it must be . . . frustrating. Not just being alone for so long that he unconsciously forgot things that always seemed so, basic. Normal to everyone. That writing and singing songs came so natural to all of them. That the once self-proclaimed leader of Brozone couldn't even read his own lyrics anymore. He could never imagine not being able to read again. Being left unable to communicate even the simplest of things, but here John was. Going through all that. Practically alone. Clay frowned well he stared down at his once proud brother and then a flicker of hope flashed through his eyes.
". . ."
"Do you want to read again?"
His ear perked up at that and his head quickly flipped back to Clay. An unreadable look in his eyes.
"I could teach you, to read, write, to talk again?"
He see the thoughts swirling through his eyes, the hope, that became to spark but that quickly disappeared as he sank back down towards the grass. I look of sadness crossing over his face as he began to fiddle with his claws.
"Do you not want to learn how to read again?" Clay aske bewilders
John huffed and stared at him with an unamused face
"well why then?"
John glanced to the side and gestured in way "carry on" sort of way.
"I don't understand."
John gave him a deadpan stare and flung his head to the side letting out a deep sigh.
Clay was thoroughly confused. what was he missing, what wasn't ne understanding. This was his brother, his older, former bossy, arrogant, obsessed older brother. So Clay wanted to try something. Something he had done in years.
"What, are you still to cocky to let your little brother teach you a thing or two?"
He huffed again, but this time it sounded more like a light chuckle followed by a quick eyeroll and after a few seconds John stared at him, one eyebrow raised like he was saying "are you serious right now?"
"So your telling me you'd rather sit on grass and feel sorry for yourself rather then spend time with your younger brother?"
Oh ya, That hit a nerve. If there was one thing John cared about it was his family, Family was apart of him and it always had been. His greatness strength and weakness. Something Clay figured out real quick when they were younger trollings. John must have felt as offended as he looked because next thing clay new he had already stood up and hoped right back up on the rock beside him.
"Same old Dory"
To which John responded by giving his brothers shoulder a shove and jerked his head towards the book down in Clay's hands.
"okay okay, will start with the basics . . ."
Don't know how in character this is for Clay but I tried guys. So yeah that's my thoughts so hopefully this makes sense.
Also if any Fanfic people out there stumble across this and start thinking they want to give try at writing some stuff for the Feral boi please do I would LOVE to read it. Like tag me please so I can read it and draw it.
Anyway imma go to bed byeeeeeee
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*crawls into your ask* OK SO! How do they figure out they are mates?! IS IT SOULMATE MARKS?! Does Alastor find the mark of the devil on his skin after their first meeting?!??! Does Lucifer think Al is an alpha at first bc of the way he challenges him but then one night during conversation he's like "I SENSE A DISTURBANCE IN THE FORCE" and woops, a little peak into Al's soul and he's like WAIT YOU'RE MY MATE?!
Hello Hello!!!
Ok ok so I know every omegaverse is different, but for mine I like to think along the terms of soul-bond, which I think would become apparent through any form of close connection. Almost like a pack I guess, but they just know deep down that this is their mate, no questions about it.
Scent has a lot to do with it too- eachother’s scent causes the other to react much stronger than other alphas and omegas
And also, I think just a bit of free will!! They chose eachother. No need for official mating, no need for anything Alastor is uncomfortable with. They can just sense it, when they’re around eachother. Because Lucifer is wanting to protect and shelter him, and Alastor (despite himself) is wanting to receive the shelter and protection
ALSO YES!!! I firmly believe Alastor was masquerading as an Alpha before. For a demon overlord, it’s just what everyone would expect- not to mention, he’d have much more control over his own autonomy by being an Alpha. No one would expect him to find a mate- he could just exist.
And then, ya know. During the challenging between them both, Lucifer felt something different hovering between them. He chalked it up to how long he’d been away from others, how out of touch he’s been- but then he starts to get these urges (especially after the fight with adam!!! knowing alastor got injured by the other alpha caused something inside lucifer to snap) and he’s suddenly wanting to growl at anyone who gets too close to Alastor, wanting to heal him, help him, protect him.
And Alastor, for his part, is equally dumbfounded- because suddenly he’s wanting to nest, he’s wanting to be scented, he’s wanting to curl up and share body heat
So yeah!!! I’d say it’s mostly just the sudden shift in their natural desires that does it for them, in a sort of soul-bond kind of way 🥰
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idk Peter being toxic and reader and him both know that he’s bad for this relationship but it’s smutty? it could also end in fluff
Pairing: TASM! Peter Parker x Reader
Rating || Genres || Warnings: M. Romance. Angst. Fluff. A bit of smut, allusions to sex, and minor drinking so those under 18 please turn away.
A/N: Ok yes, I live for these kind of requests! Also I think this fic got away from me a little bit. Woops? Also, THIS was a roller coaster to write!
What had started out as a casual one time thing, had quickly escalated into something that would not be considered healthy.
Peter had been grieving, was still probably grieving, the loss of his girlfriend. Gwen Stacy. His first love.
You had been mourning the loss of your best friend. The girl you had known since you were in kindergarten together. Had grown up with. Whom you considered a sister and told everything to.
Seems like none of those feelings and years of friendship mattered when you slept with Peter the first time a month after her death.
You felt guilty everyday. Simply recalling the memory of that first night made you feel twisted up and sick inside. You were betraying her, betraying Gwen by sleeping with her boyfriend.
Former boyfriend, your mind had tried to reason with you on more then one occasion. That did not matter, your heart had argued back, she had still loved him, she said so herself.
As you sat in your apartment, nursing a warm cup of tea between your cold hands, your treacherous mind drifted to the fateful night. How you had been crying into your pillow, trying your best to get some sleep. You had a long day of work tomorrow, and yet sleep alluded you. Flashes of Gwen's smiling and laughing plagued your mind, causing you to close your eyes, wishing for those images to go away. They were only causing you heartache.
But then you heard someone, right outside your window. You sat up, and once you recognized that silhouette through the drawn curtains of your window, you quickly threw it open, allowing Peter to stumble in.
You could smell the alcohol on his breath, barely caught him when he almost fell over. You questioned him, asking if he was alright and what was he thinking swinging around while drinking. He could've gotten seriously hurt. He wasn't full on drunk, but he was a little inebriated at the very best.
But once he met your gaze, and you were able to see the sheer sorrow and despair in his eyes, you stopped in your questioning. He whispered Gwen's name before all but falling against you, sobbing into your shoulder.
You felt your own tears sting your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him and held him closer, needing to feel his warmth just as he needed to feel yours. He kept whispering Gwen's name and how he could save her, how he had failed to save the girl he loved. As an act of comfort you pressed a kiss to his forehead, before moving to brush your lips against his cheek.
What you hadn't anticipated was him moving his head at the exact moment. Just enough to allow your lips to meet his lips. Shocked, you quickly pulled back, stuttering an apology as your cheeks reddened and you moved to step out of his embrace. But he stopped you, bringing you back to him. He was looking at you now, and you knew his heart was beating just as fast as yours given how you had your hands pressed up against his chest.
Neither of you knew who moved first, but a moment later your lips clashed together in a flurry of teeth and tongues as your hands began to explore one another. Clothes were pulled off, two bodies fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and heady kisses. There was nothing romantic, soft or slow about what happened next.
It was raw.
Emotional.
Desperate.
Your lips continued to meet, tongues battling against one another, hands never stilling as the two of you explored the other's body. There was no gentleness to it either. It was scrapping nails and gripping the other with an almost bruising strength. Never once did either of you open your eyes, perhaps because deep down you knew that once you did, the moment would be over, and reality would come crashing down.
All you needed, what both of you needed, was some semblance of comfort. Of familiarity. A reminder that you weren't alone. Neither of you.
And when Peter pushed himself inside you, when he began to move against you, when you held on tighter and buried your face into his neck to bite and nip at the sensitive flesh, when he moaned deep and sensual against your ear, when you threw back your head and allowed the sweet sweet release to drown every coherent thought from both of your minds, you found.......peace.
As you came down from your high, Peter rolled away from on top of you. You had wrapped your blanket around your body, laying on your back and staring up at the ceiling as you slowly came back to your body, and realized what you had just done.
And perhaps you were feeling selfish, perhaps you were angry at Gwen for leaving you, or perhaps you were exhausted from that constant gut-wrenching pain that crushed your soul, but you couldn't bring yourself to regret your actions. Peter had given you a few moments where you didn't feel like your heart was breaking. And you knew, he had found comfort in your body as well.
Though it didn't stop that feeling of guilt prickle under your very skin as you slowly drifted off to sleep.
————————–
That had been almost six months ago.
Since then, whenever Gwen's loss would get too much for either of you, Peter more so then you, the two of you would sought out the company of the other.
And while it did provide the two of you with some semblance of comfort and peace for a few moments, your friendship turned into a dry husk.
Before that Gwen's death, you and Peter had been decent friends. You had always been a third wheel between the two lovebirds, but you didn't mind. You were happy for your friend, and Peter was a great guy. And the two of you shared a passion for photography. Now? For almost a year, you hadn't spoken to one another. Even during sex there was barely any verbal exchange, unless one would count sounds of pleasure and approval. Even after sex things were quiet.
Once the act was done, you two would either lay on your back, or turn your backs to each other. And if it had been a particularly tiring day, you would sleep together. Otherwise one of you would put your clothes on and leave.
No greeting, no goodbyes.
And it was tearing you apart.
Tears lined your eyes and this time you didn't bother wiping them away. Pushing aside the now cold tea, you buried your head in your arms placed atop the kitchen island and cried. With every sob your shoulders shook.
You cried for Gwen.
You cried for Peter.
You cried for yourself.
You cried until you had no tears left, but you didn't move from your position.
————————–
A gentle hand on your shoulder was what shook you awake. Your head snapped up, eyes blinking to clear away the sleep and remaining tears as you did. You found Peter looking down at you, at the look in his eyes seemed to drive a knife into your heart.
He hadn't seen you cry, and yet you had a feeling he had been there for a long time now.
"We need to talk." You said, your voice low and quivering as you looked up at him.
Silently, he nodded.
————————–
It was her first death anniversary, and you were beginning to feel like your old self again.
You stood in front of her grave, holding a bouquet of beautiful yellow roses. The color symbolized two things, the deep friendship the two of you had shared, and the forgiveness you sought from your friend. Slowly sliding to the ground to sit cross-legged in front of the headstone, you heaved a deep sigh.
"Well its been quite the year Gwenie. My first one without you and its been so strange. Not having you here." As you spoke, you untied the ribbon that was tied around the bouquet, allowing the flowers to separate in your lap. "I did manage to get the apartment we both had our eye on, of course I have to work two jobs now, to pay rent, but its okay, its keeping me busy." You set down a flower on the grass in front of the tombstone.
Tears pricked your eyes but you continued. "And you won't believe it, but I finally managed to get around to watching The Lord of the Rings. I understand now why you begged me to all those years. Though its unfair of you to have called dibs on Aragorn without giving me a fair chance." A small laugh fell from your lips as you laid down another flower.
"Your mom and brothers are alright. They moved away a couple months after you went. I still talk to them over the phone. Your mom actually asked me to come and pick up some of the stuff we shared over the years. Says you would want me to have it. Though she doesn't know I already called dibs on your blue sweater." Another tearful laugh, followed by a flower and a tears that dripped down your cheeks.
You sighed softly. "I.....started to see a therapist. I wasn't....right after you left Gwenie. And I did something bad. But I've been working on it." Laying two more roses, you played with the petals of the next one.
"And I wanted to apologize." Here your voice trembled as your raised your eyes to the name that was engraved in the grey stone. "For what I did with Peter, I just.......I was just so lost and sad with you gone Gwenie. And he was just there. He....understood." You shook your head. "And I know that is a lame excuse for what I did, and I know how much you loved him, and I am so so so so sorry Gwenie. I'm so sorry." Aside from the flower you held in your hand, you laid down every last one of them on the ground.
You sat there quietly for a good few minutes before speaking. "I haven't met him or seen him for months now. We finally decided to just sit down and talk. And we agreed that what we were doing wasn't going to help either of us in the long run. So we stopped."
A deep sigh, one that echoed from the very depth of your soul fell from your lips as you tilted your head back and looked to the beautiful blue skies. "I hope you will forgive me Gwenie." You whispered, your head coming back down to press a sweet kiss to the final flower you held.
You stood up, leaning down to set the flower atop the gravestone. Your fingers lingered there, caressing the cold stone lovingly.
"She wouldn't want you to feel that way you know?"
You jumped slightly at the voice, your head whipping around to see Peter standing there with his hands in his coat pockets. He wasn't carrying any flowers, so you guessed that the ones already there were from him. You had suspected that perhaps it had been Mrs Stacy.
Slowly he approached you, so he could stand beside you, his eyes never leaving the headstone. "I remember when her father died and she was grieving. She was just so sad all the time." You nodded, recalling how devastated she had been after Mr. Stacy's death.
"It was actually the first time we slept together." Your turned your gaze towards Peter, lips parted in surprise. Gwen had never told you that. Peter sighed. "She just looked so sad and I couldn't do anything about it and it just happened. She felt guilty afterwards, saying she had taken advantage of me or something like that, but I told her to not even think like that. That I was glad I could comfort her in some way." He finally turned his gaze towards you, a small understanding smile pulling at the corner of his lips.
You swallowed thickly, pushing back the tears as you returned the smile. "Maybe we could comfort each other as well. As friends." You offered, your heart beating fast in your chest. You had missed Peter, had missed your friend. Maybe this was the do-over the both of you needed.
Reaching out, he grasped your hand tightly, prompting you to smile at the gravestone in front of you. The wins blew softly around you, and though you knew it was not possible, as you closed your eyes, you swore you could hear Gwen's hand slipping into your other hand as you stood side by side.
————————–
Your eyes blinked open, eyelashes fluttering as you fought the heaviness of sleep from them. Slowly, you blinked them open, snuggling deeper into your warm blankets.
Only to be made aware of the person sleeping beside you.
The scent that enveloped you could only belong to one person, and you smiled as you snuggled closer to him, feeling his arm wrap around your waist as he pulled you closer in his sleep.
You and Peter had spent months building your friendship once again. The two of you had been one another's rock during some very trying times, and now it had been nearly a year and a half. A year and a half of friendship that had slowly started to shift to become something more.
He had asked you out on a date, wanting to do things properly this time. And though you had been hesitant at first, an accidental mention to Mrs. Stacy had made you say yes, after the older woman had urged you to not let a guy like Peter get away.
Your first date had been a month ago. Your first kiss as a couple had happened a week after. Your first night together had been last night.
It had been the complete opposite of what the two of you had shared all those months ago. Last night had been slow, sweet and loving. Every caress, every kiss, every look had been full of love and trust as the two of you had floated on a cloud of utter bliss and pleasure. And while you had never met one another's eyes previously, this time neither of you had looked away.
This time neither of you slept with your back to the other.
Neither of you left the bed before the other woke.
And as you felt Peter stir awake, saw him smile sleepily at you, his hair all mussed up from the night before, greeting you with a morning kiss, you allowed yourself to feel something you had not felt in a long long time.
Loved.
#tasm! peter parker x y/n#tasm! pater x reader#tasm! peter parker x reader#peter parker x reader tasm#tasm!peter x y/n
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The Pompous Lawyer II
Pairing: Changbin x afab!reader
Word count: 13.7k (WOOPS FR THIS TIME)
Genre: enemies to lovers
Warnings: 18+ explicit minors do not interact. Choking, kissing, arguing, mentiosn of naked body, handjob (m receiving), penetration, orgasm, dirty talk.
Tag list: @seo--changbin @j-0ne25 @cb97whoree
@kpopsstuffs
Note: HEY guys, its been a while. This took me a long time to write i am very much sorry :(((( I hope you enjoy and i hope everyone is doing well. I also appreciate all the support that I have received in my absence as well <3 Inspo is (here) (also psa thats literally visual porn you have been warned!!)
Summary: The case had not progressed, seeing as the two of you chose to spend the time together doing something else. But going back to the bickering enemies you were before may be harder than it seems.
The smirk on Felix’s face was apparent when he saw you walk into the break room, ready for another day of work. At this point in time, it was best for you to ignore his presence, you wanting to at least enjoy one sip of coffee before being berated.. It was also your luck that he was enjoying a light hearted chat (or so you thought) with your rookie, Hyunjin, out of all people, before they both went silent, waiting for you to take up the empty seat at their chair. Your best friend’s mouth was already open before your elbows could even relax on the table.
“Did you do it or not?”
A hand came to your chest as you rapidly placed your cup on the empty table, leaning forward as the liquid barely had time to swallow before choking, hard, the coffee going every pathway except your throat..
“That’s the first thing you ask at your grown up age?”
He shrugged, unbothered by your criticism as he continued looking, waiting for an answer to his ludicrous question. You had two options; lie and tell Felix that it was just a brief consultation, leaving him with no further questions and him continuously being suspicious, or tell him the truth and live a life of never ending embarrassment.
“Just answer Y/n.”
Hyunjin had never received a death glare so terrifying in his life.
“Is that how you talk to your T.O?”
“Stop deflecting,” Felix whined, hitting you on the knee, “did you do it or not?”
“No,” you laughed, the exaggeration of your chuckle making it obvious that you were lying, “it was just a brief consultation and beginning of preparation for the trial seeing as it’s next week.”
“Sure it was,” the rookie smirked, tongue poking the inside of his cheek before you stormed out of the room; being ganged up on wasn’t something that you wanted to deal with right now. Sitting at your desk and recording a stack of torturous paperwork was somehow much better than your best friend and rookie prying into your personal life,, together.
It did not take long for them to follow, forgetting the convenience being that your desks were right next to each other. You decided to ignore them, letting your fingertips type away on the raised keys in front of you. It was only a matter of time before you knew that there would most certainly be a time where you had to face the consequences of your actions. Did you regret it? The logical part of you was saying a little. This had to be some sort of conflict of interest, any kind of vocabulary that could be applied to this situation was being applied. Mixing business and pleasure was probably not the greatest idea. Wanting to take back what happened yesterday evening would be the right thing to do; but being smart was tiring. Letting your brain shut off for a brief moment to enjoy the pleasures of life that was physical gratification from your enemy really wasn’t so bad, right? It was nice for now, mainly because it was all you had roaming around in your mind.
That was, of course, until you saw the wide doors of the precinct open, and saw the pompous lawyer, with his ridiculously priced suit, compromising shirt that showcased way too much, and that stupid briefcase that had the gold plating on the exterior seams. God, it was so fucking annoying. The way you knew that your eyes would immediately dart to his handsome features. His sharp eyebrows, slicked back hair, his lips. Fuck. His lips were something you already noticed prior to your rendezvous, but now it was a whole different story, with a whole new meaning behind it. His walk was elegant, like all of a sudden he changed the way he strutted, still like he owned the place, but for some reason it wasn’t as annoying. You were kidding yourself if you were unaware of why your perception had changed so suddenly. Your eyes quickly darted back to the computer screen. It was better to ignore him at the station. All the officers had spoken before, and you would rather truly die than for it to come out here, from him, or you in the heat of the moment, out of all places. It was also just less of a mindfuck. Not having Changbin in your sight was not going to leave your mind trailing to what might be.
“Y/n quick Changbin is here!”
“Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath, “if he asks tell him I’m not here.”
Your fall to the floor was sudden, hitting the top of your head in the process. The thud could be heard from a mile away, the painful groan following as well. It wasn’t a coincidence that you were under the huddle of your desk, and the name of the pompous lawyer had been mentioned. When you were back on your knees, visible to your coworkers, cussing them out seemed like the perfect option.
“Are you guys fucking serious-”
“Y/n?”
The anxiety in your stomach rose when you heard Changbin’s voice. The pompous lawyer was standing right there, and boy, did he catch you red handed. You were facing him, eyes at length with his own as you looked up at him. That smirk. That used to be the evil fucking smirk that now makes the hairs on your arms raise straight up in stature. The spiral was immense, immediate as soon as your eyes were on him. From the time you left his office last night, to when you drove home, ate your dinner, slept, woke up, and came to work. It was easy to be in denial. Easy to never come to the realization of ‘holy fuck I slept with someone I hate.”
But when the situation, AKA, Changbin, was staring you in the face, the feeling of denial was practically non-existent. All the memories of him flooded back in an instant. A heavy gulp swallowed in your throat, eyes wide as he continued to ponder down at you, and you hated that your mind immediately went to the gutter, mouth watering at the implication of being on your knees in front of this man. You could even see the pompous lawyer clench his jaw for a brief moment, another immediate shift in his demeanor as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Are you hiding under the table?”
“What? No I,” you huffed, not protecting your head and hitting it, again, one hand holding the base of your head, the other leaning on your desk to help you rise back to your feet. God this was fucking embarrassing, and your two cowokers snickering behind you was not helping the embarrassment at all.
“I just dropped my pen.”
The pompous lawyer crouched down, bending his knees all the way as his eyes scanned the indoor concrete flooring, not a pen in sight. His devil coated smirk covered his face as soon as his knees came back 180 degrees. Fuck your life. That fucking smirk! Before, it was the bain of your existence. The sole reason behind your anger and overall frustration with arrogant lawyers, district attorneys; basically anyone that you had to work with that wasn’t police or innocent civilians. But now, that smirk carried so many connotations. The flashbacks were immediate as you tried so hard to suppress and deny the ideas flooding your brain like a dam wall when there is a rain storm. Your heart rate accelerated, and the temperature of the precinct suddenly felt a little too hot. All you could do was stand there, looking at him wide eyed, knowing exactly what he was going to say.
“I didn’t see any pens there.”
“Hello Changbin,” Felix chimed in, a rather unusual grin when looking at the pompous lawyer, “how’s the trial prep going?”
The smirk on his face dropped immediately. The color drained from his face, the complexion of a ghost-like complexion covering his skin. He was now panicking, bad. There had been no time to get your stories straight. Did Felix know? Did he not? Changbin had way too much pride to tell a stranger, let alone someone he knew was your close friend, to him, about his private life. One that involved colleagues and criminal justice moreso. He also found it strange. Strange that Felix firstly used his name without mumbling it under his breath, and secondly, actually asking a question, inquiring about something that had nothing to do with him. The look of stress was a sigh of relief, knowing that the pompous lawyer completely forgot that he had caught you out.
“Uh good,” he quickly acknowledged, giving Felix his attention for all of 10 seconds, before turning to you again, “I actually came here to talk to you about that.”
“Oh,” you nodded, nothing remotely close to a smile, “can we talk later today? I just have a lot of paperwork that I need to get done by patrol time which is in,” you paused, taking a quick glance at the digital watch on your wrist, “1 hour.”
Changbin let out a nervous laugh.
“You can’t talk now?”
“No,” you huffed, “I just said that. Surely there is another reason you’re at the precinct?”
He shook his head, biting down on his bottom lip. Fuck it really shouldnt turn you on as much as it just did.
“What,” you chuckled, “haven’t got any clients in detention right now?”
“Uh-uh,” he smiled again, “I just came to talk to you quickly and then I have a meeting in the building next door.”
Your heart rate increased rapidly at his words; and that smile. God that fucking smile. It was too nice to look at, his lips making yours turn up in unison, eyes glued to the floor as it was much too intimidating to maintain eye contact with him at this moment. The tension felt thick, and the room suddenly felt like everyone else had disappeared, the two of you only existing in this space. A small giggle erupted from your lips, yet another reminder of what happened that last time only the two of you shared a space. The space solely between the two of you felt like it was getting smaller itself.
“Ah-ahem.”
The sweet little moment was interrupted by the burning craters that were 2 pairs of eyeballs burning the left side of your face. You turned to them, a smile wiped off your face the moment you saw their grins. You tucked your hair behind your eyes, snapping back into reality mode. An immediate spark of anger rushed through your body, for two different reasons. One was that everything you told yourself in the morning, to deny and suppress. Secondly, the fact that you had been caught out, and humiliated in front of the two people that you interacted with the most during work hours. Now it would be even harder to deny.
“Ok so I’ll talk to you later?”
“What time?”
“I should be done patrol at like 3.”
“Okay well I’m busy after 3 so can I just talk to you now?”
“No,” you snapped, frustration increasing from Changbin not listening to you, “I just said that I can’t.”
“It’s going to take 10 minutes. Surely you can spare that?”
“Why? Because my work is not as important as yours?”
“No,” he scoffed, scratching his face out of his own frustration, “because I need to tell you before the end of the day.”
“Okay well I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”
The sound of the precinct was softening, the sounds of other conversations coming to a halt, the only one that could be heard was the two of you with your in character bickering. People were starting to look, but you would not let Changbin get the last word out of you; this was always the case. He said nothing, jaw clenching at your non-compliance.
“Can’t you just tell me now, at this desk?”
“No,” he mumbled, “it’s kind of private.”
“Just say it now I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
“What part of it’s private do you not understand?”
“Changbin if it’s about the case you can say it, everyone knows who he is.”
The pompous lawyer panicked, trying to say anything to keep your attention that he was so desperate for.
“So you,” he sighed, hesitating before he spoke again, “ so you want me to tell everyone that he said you’re a bad cop and he knew from the day he became your T.O?”
The look on your face was unexplainable.You were speechless. An immediate pang, which felt like a gunshot, shot straight to your heart. It should have made you more angry. Fuming that he would say something like that. But really, it just made you sad. It was genuinely hurtful, even though he was a criminal, to hear someone that you were so close to and looked up to speak ill of you. The hundreds of times he had said to your face how proud they were. It was all a lie.Suddenly the air felt thick, making it hard for you to catch your breath, gasp, breathe for air, the walls were closing in, and there was nowhere to escape.
He, Changbin, could read it on your face. He couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was, but he knew that something wasn’t right. It was an emotion he had never seen on your face before. You were speechless, he was also speechless. The guilt hit him like a truck, twisting in his gut like the actions of a murderer with a knife. He stepped forward, a hand coming to your shoulder, but it was too late, your back was turned, and the closest free interrogation room felt like the right place to be as you locked the door behind you. A tear threatened to spill from your duct, finger immediately wiping any possible remnant of clear liquid before it could make a mark as you sat in the chair nearby as thought after thought after thought ruminated in your stress riddled mind.
It wasn’t a surprise to hear a knock on the door. It was a surprise, however, that when your eyes peeked through the small glass window that covered the center of the door, it was the pompous lawyer that had come to your rescue. You quickly ducked down, praying that he didn’t see you.
You shouldn’t be mad at him, but he really was the last person you wanted to see at that moment. It was too late though, the click of the door easily audible and now it was him, in the same room, looking at you, huddled up on the floor. The list of things to be embarrassed about was becoming easier to identify.
“Hey,” he mumbled, the volume of his voice lowering, practically non-existent at the last letter of the greeting. You quickly stood, humiliated that it was not the first time this day he had found you like this. You said nothing, a quick sniffle escaping your nose as you stood to face him.
“Look, Y/n, I-”
“Did he really say that?”
Changbin let out a heavy sigh as he averted your gaze, “I don’t think he meant it.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, genuine confusion expressed over your facial features. You began to pace back and forth, index finger in your mouth as your brain began to rewire itself. Trying to think of every single moment you shared with your T.O. Were there times on the job that he was doing dirty things behind your back? How did he do it? There was no doubt in your mind he was guilty, but the situation never failed to play games with your mind. It was a vicious cycle. Wanting to help him, but remembering he did everything you stood against, questioning why, how, trying to convince yourself he was a good person, and repeat. It was in fact where your mind was right now, and he could see it. It was written all over your face. Although you were ‘special’ as he said, you were not the first person to testify for a client of his that had a reaction like this.
“Why would he say that though? It makes no sense.”
You continued to pace, making him worried very much so. Although he hated your guts, seeing you in this kind of anxiety, it made him feel for you. He stepped forward, attempting to prevent you from pacing back and forth, but it was no use. You were much too deep in thought.
“Y/n.”
Nothing
“Y/n.”
His tone increased in volume the more you ignored him.
“Y/n,” he sighed again, “y/n?”
Fuck he did not enjoy being the lack of being acknowledged in the slightest. The blight on his ego was simply too big.
“That’s it.”
He huffed, pacing over and perfectly timing his attack so that he could nip at your wrists, pushing your body weight backwards and against the door, hands above your head, just like last night. The look in the pompous lawyer's eyes, however, was slightly different. Not close to being as gentle or placid at the last time your proximity was so close. It took your mind out of that toxic loop instantly, the only noise you could make was a gasp. Maybe you blanked. Maybe you just completely dissociated, because you really had no idea how you ended up here, again, pinned against a hard surface, Changbin the one pinning you down. Brows still furrowed, a frustration was rising on your chest. No matter how hard you pushed, he would not budge. He was simply too strong for you. The thought made your heart race. Your chest was heaving up and down, breathing heavily as your body tried to make up for the pacing that was most definitely a workout for some, and you as well apparently.
“What are you doing?”
You tried again, a soft groan of pain escaping your lips as your elbow hit the wooden door.
“Stop trying to escape, and listen.”
“Why should I listen to you?”’
It was now the pompous lawyer’s turn for his facial expressions to change. He was biting down on his bottom lip, jaw clenched as he just waited, simply waiting for you to, for once, not be as stubborn as usual.
“Because I’m trying to help you.”
“How are you helping me,” your tone was angry, the tremble in your voice was small, but it was definitely there, “ever since you’ve made me a part of the case, you’ve done nothing but hurt me. You’re doing it right now.”
His immediate reaction was to let go. The thought, to him, of genuinely hurting you in any way killed him on the inside. Before, it was a minute detail in his day; well, that was how it started for him. Day by day, it became the thing he looked forward to. Sure, his clients were important, but the moment Changbin saw your look of distaste from the moment your eyes met, there was a satisfaction. A gratification. If he went to the precinct and you weren’t there, he got stuck on it. He would never admit this, but arguing with you tends to be the highlight of his day.
Hearing you say such words now; the impact was different this time.
“I’m sorry, I,” he hesitated, knowing you were in a vulnerable state, “I didn’t mean to.”
His voice was quiet, but it didn’t matter to you. The anger that was bubbling at the peak of your chest was making you too blind to see his genuine regret he had in the moment.
“You’re not helping me. You just embarrassed me in front of the precinct, again.”
“I didn’t mean to,” he hissed, starting to get annoyed by your antics, “I wanted to tell you in private, but you insisted on me telling you in the moment.”
The eye roll from you was immense.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
“What,” you asked, unsure why he was reacting the way he did.
“Don’t fucking roll your eyes at me, I’m trying to fucking help you.”
“How have you helped me, huh?”
You took a step closer to him, then another, the pompous lawyer refusing to back down from your attempted intimidation. The two of you knew better than to participate in a subtle, yet strenuous tension in the form of a face off. Before it never led to anything, but with the events of yesterday already adding another layer of tension to the complication of your relationship, things were about to take another turn. Maybe it’s what you wanted. Maybe he too also wanted that. But you could list a bunch of other unsatisfactory tasks you would rather do than admit it. The space between the two of you was closing in an immediate time frame, the silent tension of the room deafened slightly by the footsteps that were your boots. Changbin’s heel on his obnoxiously luxurious dress shoes clicked backwards with each step he took. It was now his turn to be backed into a corner, wide shoulder hitting the back wall, opposite to the door. If anything happened now, anyone would be able to see through the window of the door.
Your care for that was irrelevant as your back faced it, the thought not even coming into your mind.
“Why are you so silent now?”
“Because,” he gritted his teeth, “I did fucking help you.”
An exacerbated laugh fell from your lips, “You talk the talk, but you can never walk the walk Mr. Seo.”
It was his turn to smirk, his left hand dared to snake around your waist, fingertips traveling your midline, stepping at the edge of your neck. His thumb and index finger split ways, the pad of your digit giving your neck a gentle squeeze. Your eyelids fluttered involuntary, hating that your body craved him once the pompous lawyer's touch became existent. He could feel you, you were tense. Even the way your head slouched, shoulders decompressing, and then he squeezed again. God you should have fucking hated this. Swiped his hands away and punched him. How dare a man think he could just do that.
But Changbin was only doing what you said. Proving that he could do the talk and the walk; all of a sudden the pompous lawyer was speaking a thousand words with two simple maneuvers of his finger tips. An unexplainable moan left your lips, the texture of his fingers feeling almost too perfect to gain your own skin.
“Ringing any bells now?”
You couldn't say nothing, the combination of your circulation being impacted and the secondary fact being that you would never admit when you were wrong. Although morally questionable, he did help you in his own way. Your lips began to tingle, unsure if it was from his grip on your throat, or the unexplainable feeling that could be equated to the dopamine high of the texture that was Changbin’s lips, but one thing was for sure. The longer he had you like that, the stronger the intensity to need him right here, right now became.
When your eyelids fluttered open again, you couldn’t help but smile, now partly embarrassed of how easy it was for him to persuade you. Remind you of how good he could make you feel. The pompous lawyer, in his own way, was helping you get through this.
“Fuck, I’m gonna regret this.”
You gave him no time to respond, walking backwards, dragging him by the hand around your neck as his backside landed on the edge of the table once more, your own legs atop of his as you now sit on his lap, lips lunging forward and connecting with him immediately. It was completely forgotten the environment you were in the moment the two of you connected. Everything felt so much clearer, like there was a pathway out of all of this. The pompous lawyer withdrew his hand from your throat, instead, snaking both to hold your ass in place. A deep groan escaped his lips as soon as he got his hands on your flesh. He was subtle with his touch here, a light rhythm of massage forming as the kiss deepend further and further, all of your senses focused on the texture, sound, smell of the pompous lawyer.
“Fuck,” you mumbled inbetween each kiss, “this is so unprofessional of me.”
He chuckled, the vibration easily felt against your lips as they left yours, covering the outer edge of your jaw, teeth gently biting down on your lobe, but that was it. It should be illegal how good his teeth felt fucking biting down on your like that. The pompous lawyer smirked, able to elicit the exact response he wanted.. He knew that you definitely were remembering how he was helping you.
“You never answered me,” he growled, voice laced with deep lust, the wanton need for you was eating him alive.
“You didn't ask a ques-”
“They’re fucking crazy.”
The voice through the speaker of the interrogation room took you out of the lust filled dimension that had engulfed you and brought you back to reality. The pompous lawyer knew he had been caught in a compromising position. He was much too experienced to know what that sound meant. The interrogation rooms at the precinct had a one sided mirror, allowing detectives to watch perpetrators when being interviewed, as well as if they needed to communicate with personnel during. Not for officers to be snooping on personal matters.
“Hyunjin what the fuck? Turn the one-sided reflection off and show me what you're doing right now.”
He did what he was told, the glass showing the sheepish, mischievous duo that was Hyunjin and Felix. Had they been there the whole time? Fuck. This is quite literally the worst thing that has ever happened to you in your life. The world was flashing before your eyes, and you knew damn well that there was no possible way that you could ever live this down. They also looked just as shocked, assuming they thought they were too slick to be caught. Changbin stood up immediately, bringing his hands to either side of his suit jacket in an attempt to straighten himself up. He checked his phone, pretending that he had a missed call from ‘someone important.’
“Oh uh, I have to go, I missed a call from a client.”
“Oh yeah sure,” you nodded, “you should probably take that.”
He nodded, eyes glued to the ground because quite frankly, he'd rather get hit by a bus than even having a chance of making eye contact with the two male officers standing in front of them. He went to walk out, meeting the two officers he wished to avoid outside of the room with you, the two of them watching your every movement. He looked at you once more, giving you a smile without lips or teeth, kind of like when you pass a stranger in the street and want to be nice.
“I have room tonight if you want to uh, discuss more about what we have been talking about.”
“For the case right?”
“Yes,” he yelled, way too loud and a poor strive of trying to come off as cool, calm and collected, the opposite of how someone should be after they have been caught making out with their sworn enemy. He coughed, adjusting his tone, “Yes of course, I’ll text you the time.”
“Yeah great okay bye.”
The pompous lawyer sped walk into the opposite direction. A sigh of relief escaped your chest the moment he was out of everyone’s sight. It was now time for your two best friends to cop the biggest grilling of their life. But later, you were honestly way too annoyed that Changbin riled you up and they interrupted such a hot, arousing moment. It was killing you the way that they didn’t even look apologetic. If anything, they looked like they were about to burst at the seams with laughter. There definitely was an “I told you so” bubbling at the brim of their lips.
“I don’t want to hear a fucking peep out of either of you for the rest of the day.”
The walk from the room to the seat was painful, the snickers and giggles erupting behind you only adding to your frustration. Even the moment you sat back down at your desk, they were burning holes into the side of your face with their eyes. You could only take so much. But at the same time it was impacting you from getting your work done, and that was where you drew the line.
“How much did you hear?”
The two of them looked at each other, then back at you, a guilty expression written on their faces.
“Do you really want to know?”
“Would I ask if I didn’t?”
“We kind of followed Changbin for about 30 seconds after he went to look for you so he wouldn’t see us.”
A heavy sigh escaped your chest at their unfortunate confession.
“Ok,” you huffed, turning to face them. You really wished you weren't going to ask this, but it was better, you thought, to get it out in the open now, rather than being the elephant in the room.
“I will let you both ask one question each and after that we never speak of it again. Deal?”
They both nodded, thank fuck.
“Okay, who is going to go first?”
“Me me me please,” Felix whined, kicking his feet up and down like a literal child throwing a tantrum.
“Okay go ahead.”
He smirked before opening that big mouth of his again, “what did he mean when he said,” he paused, adjusting his voice to imitate the pompous lawyer, tucking his chin in and lowering his head, thinking that would help achieve the sound he wanted.
“I did fucking help you.”
Your head was buried in your hands immediately. There was just no way you could answer. It would be opening a can of worms. You knew there would be no way that the two of them would be able to limit themselves.
“With the case. T.O is apparently saying a lot of bad stuff about me.”
Felix knew as soon as your eyes darted away from him that you were definitely not telling the truth.
“You’re lying.”
You gasped, “No I’m not! How dare you even accuse me of that?”
Hyunjin smirked, “Y/n I’m sorry I know you’re my T.O and im 100% going to be stepping over the line here. But do you really expect us to believe that was the first time you have made out with that man?”
Your jaw dropped in disbelief. What were you even supposed to say to that? It was embarrassing because he hit the nail bang on the head. It took you back to last night, in his office, his length, his body that you saw always straining against that insufferable fabric, his hands, his fingers. The images of his hands on your core flashed through your mind for a brief moment, making you feel a little dizzy.
Hyunjin raised his hands towards you as he spoke again, “It looked like he really knew what he was doing with you.”
“Okay fine! You got me okay! It’s not the first time.”
“So when was the first time?”
“Last night,” you mumbled, turning away from them completely so the chance of them seeing what you said was zero to none.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Uh no,” Felix replied sarcastically, “I actually didn’t.”
“It was last night. At his office.”
The two of them said nothing, instead, Hyunjin reached into his desk drawer, pulling out a 10 dollar note and a pack of mini m&ms from the vending machine.
“I fucking told you!” Felix yelled, causing half the precinct to stare. The three of you shriveled into your desks, whispering now seeming like the appropriate way to continue the conversation.
“Okay,” Hynunjin’s tone in a whisper was harsh, “you have to tell us the sequence of events.”
“No I don’t? That’s so personal.”
“Oh yes you do,” your best friend interjects, whirling around in his chair to get closer to the two of you in the desk triangle, closing you in with nowhere to escape.
“Fine. You know I went there with innocent intentions. To talk about the case and that’s it.”
They nodded, but you huffed, knowing that you were about to sound so predictable and ridiculous to them.
“But, fuck man, he just makes me so angry. Like he says stuff to just piss me off on purpose because I say one little thing. Fuck he’s such a fucking dick! Like everybody, whether you like me or not, knows that this is a fucking hard situation for me. I was already so nervous going into it because the questions would be difficult. He just knows how to push my buttons.”
You closed your eyes, recalling the dialogue from last night in its entirety. For some reason you were anxious telling them. It had nothing to do with them judging you. They were simply just not like that. Maybe it was the fact that as you retold, you could feel his warmth, the touch that you mentioned you craved so much one it reappeared, running through your body. A dull ache formed under the top layer of your skin. Someone that you angrily hooked up with once, now twice, shouldn't have had this much of an impact on you. The context was vulnerable, you were sensitive, and he was just being there for you in sincerity, well that’s what you would like to think. Once your eyes opened, you were expecting a look of concern, but you were surprised, Hyunjin and Felix looking at each other with a brow raised before looking at you. They said nothing.
“What?”
“If I’m being honest,” Felix continued to whisper, “it kind of sounds like you were wanting to push his buttons.”
The rookie's eyes widened, clicking his fingers and nodding in agreement, “That’s what I was thinking!”
“Literally how did you derive that?”
“Y/n you know I’m honest. I feel like, and I can't believe I say a nice thing about that guy, but he was just being professional, asking the questions he needed, until you started rushing him, making comments out of the side of your mouth about him loving money.”
Felix paused, taking a deep breath, “I want to ask you, and don’t get angry with me.”
“Anything.”
“Did you go there, hoping that something would happen?”
You should have been offended by his question. What the fuck was he implying. But then you took yourself back to yesterday afternoon, and that feeling was back. That feeling that you couldn’t put your finger on, but you liked it. God did you fucking like it. The mystery of the unknown was enticing. But your best friend didn’t need to know that.
“No,” you gulped, “I was just nervous to talk about the case, seeing as I blocked the core of it out of my mind.”
“We still don’t know what happened after he said, and I quote ‘I want to make sure you’re okay and you don’t get caught in the crossfire.’”
Felix giggled at Hyunjins dramatic recall. Your hand came to your face in the form of a facepalm, knowing what you were going to say next was so cliche.
“Fuck my life, I said, ‘so rather than criticizing me, help me. Help me get through this how you would if you were me’ and one thing leads to another and.”
“And what, you guys kissed?”
Your lips escaped into your mouth, nodding, really not wanting to elaborate.
“Bit more than that?”
“Oh my god you guys fucked that’s crazy.”
The punch into Felix’s shoulder was warranted. You winced at the vulgarity of his words. However, it felt like a giant weight lifted off of your shoulders.
“You didn’t have to say it like that, but yeah, we did and now its lowkey fucking with me head.”
The shrill of the desk phone almost knocked the three out of your seats. After your semi-heart attack has passed, you check the tiny phone screen, an unknown number popping up on the screen. You answered, sternly, “Hello, you're speaking with Officer Y/l/n.”
“Y/n hey, it’s Changbin.”
Your eyes bulged out of your head when you heard his name. You really should not be that excited at the sound of his voice.
“Oh hey Changbin, what’s up?”
The two boys next to you were quick to swivel past, their ears resting against each of yours, waiting to get every single detail from a simple phone call they could.
“I was so flustered earlier, you know, getting caught I uhm.”
He paused.
“Can you cut to the chase please? We are very busy at the station here.”
Hyunjin nudged you, mouthing ‘that’s rude’ when you turned to look at him. He was right, it came off a little hush. Maybe you were just nervous, having an absent mind as to the reasons why he was actually calling.
“Oh uh sorry,” he coughed in between his words, “I realize I didn’t actually have your number. To contact you about our next appointment, nothing else of course.”
“Oh yeah,” you chuckled nervously, “sure for the case. It’s (y/p/n).”
“Great,” you could hear his smile through the phone, “I have some stuff at my apartment that I can’t bring to the office due to confidentiality. Would you be okay meeting at my apartment instead?”
“Uh, yeah okay sure.”
“Great, I’ll text you my address and the time.”
“Okay bye.”
Without warning, the phone was hung up back on the station. A pang of excitement streaked through your body, but vanished quickly, seeing your two best friends smacking each other silly. The moment you cut them with your eyes, they stopped, pretending to go back to work. They should not be this excited, and this time you were going to ensure that it was business only. You go, contribute to your testimony and leave. It did not matter that the setting would be informal, a couch, kitchen, a bed. The thought was irrelevant. It should have stopped there. But that would be too simple. One thought led to the flood of your brain, waves of cognitions of 30 minutes ago, his finger pads on your neck, lips on your jaw, which only naturally led to the lines of your ass tingling, reminiscing on the cool texture of the brown marble that was the edge of his desk. You could feel the perspiration excreting across your forehead at this moment. You brought your hand to your forehead, feeling an intense warmth at the touch. You were not getting just any fever from the cold weather. This fever only had the ability to be caused by one person. Him. The pompous lawyer, and it was fucking terrifying. It wasn’t even him as a person. Really you could care less about him personally.
The ding of your phone took you out of your thought monsoon, taking it out of your pocket immediately to see you had received a message from a number that had not been saved yet.
[12:42 pm]
*unknown* : Here is my address. I finish work at 7pm tonight. Does 7:30 work for you?
A sudden flow of panic swept through your body. Why did you feel so wrong, so guilty? It felt like a blight on your job, like it was going against everything you stood for. You also tended to have a flair for the dramatic. All you could do was stare at your phone. Unsure if you should even reply. If you didn’t, then you could save yourself from accidentally making this mistake. But then again, the longer you dragged this out, the longer you would have to work with him. Maybe it was just better to get it out of the way. Your thumbs began to hover over the screen, tapping the appropriate letters in order to reply.
[12:53 pm]
Y/n: I finish patrol at 7 so 7:30 should be fine :)
[12:55 pm]
Changbin: No worries. C u then.
“He texted you, didn’t he?”
“He did,” you replied to Felix, “I’m going to his tonight after work.”
Hyunjin smirked, “To his huh?”
“Shut up,” you whined, “I’m just going to talk about the case, nothing else.”
“That’s what you said last time.”
Yeah, sure you were.
**
The day went surprisingly quickly. Patrol was quiet, just a couple of parking tickets. No chases thank goodness. The clock striked seven, and you were quick to clock out, giving you as much time as possible to get home, shower, fix your hair, chuck on some makeup, get a house warming gift and still be punctual.
You decided to go pretty low maintenance. Just a quick brush of your hair, subtle makeup, simple clothes being a pair of black flare leggings and a basic tee. It was already 7:15 by the time you were ready, and checking the maps, it was going to take another 10 minutes to get there. There was no choice for you but to leave now. Looking up at the mirror just before the front door, you had one last glance, noticing everything was in place before grabbing your car keys and speed walking to your car.
The drive was nerve wracking, eyes focused on the road while also trying to listen to the maps was fucking difficult. The time you estimated was correct, arriving 5 minutes early before getting out of the car. You locked the car with the button on your keys, placing them into your bag before taking in what was the pompous lawyers house. A basic white picket fence, however, his house was nothing short of grand. An iron carved black gate in front of the front door, well groomed hedges and flowers, tulips, roses, hydrangea, you name it. It was there. The statue of a large black fox, so sleek, tapered water out of its mouth running at the same time as the sprinklers covering the grass that made up the rest of the front lawn. Once you heard the doorbell similar to a grand opera, you knew this was a mistake. Changbin had to have been lying. The only reason he invited you to his house was once again just a flex. A brag to show how much money he made defending the scum of the earth.
The front door opened, a much different person that was definitely not Changbin opening the door. You panicked for a brief moment, thinking that the pompous lawyer would do something as selfish as giving you the wrong address.
“Hello and welcome to the Seo manner. How can I help you?”
“Is this the right address? I’m here to see Changbin,” you shook your head, “Mr. Seo. I have an appointment.”
“Ah, you must be y/n. I am Seungmin, Changbin’s personal assistant.”
Seungmin opened the iron clad door for you, allowing you to walk inside and once again, take in the inside of his house. The first thing you noticed was the staircase. It was in a circular motion, rounding all the way until it reached the second floor, appearing to be only one room there. The first floor had marble floors, similar to the desk of his office, very much open spaces. Interesting artwork however, seeming to be sketches of very much naked women around the house. Ugh.
The pompous lawyer's personal assistant, who you did not know ever existed by the way, reached a hand out, inviting you to shake it. You accepted. Sheepishly, still taken aback by how annoyingly nice his house was.
“Changbin is just in his home office. I’ll take you there now.”
You simply nodded, walking behind the new stranger.
“So how long have you been Changbin- Mr.Seo’s assistant for?”
“For a few years.”
“But we have never met before?”
“Yes well,” he chuckled, “I don’t really take part in his business life. More home and personal events.”
“Ah I understand,” you smiled. The walk was short. Two large wooden doors obstruct you from seeing his office.
“You know Mr. Seo talks about you alot?”
There it was again. He was now the second person to say that. It doesn’t matter, it’s not like it meant anything. You weren’t sure what to say, interrupted by the grand opening, seeing a much more relaxed Changbin. His hair was down, a much stronger wave to it. He was not wearing a suit either. The pompous lawyer was wearing a pair of black sweats, a white t-shirt that was of course way too small for his figure, and a navy jacket, accompanied by a collar. The thing that took you off guard the most was the glasses. This was also a new fact that you had learnt about this subject. That he needed glasses. They were cute the way they sat on his face, much too big for the shape of his features. You could feel the heat creep onto your cheeks as soon as his eyes landed on you. His smile was warm for the briefest second you could count, returning right back to stoic expression before getting out of his chair, walking up to greet you.
“Y/n,” he smirked, a quick glance up and down before his hand came out for a shake, “good evening.”
Your brow furrowed, constantly confused by Changbin’s demeanor. It was constantly changing, and you really did not know what to expect. The toxic part of you longed for it when it was simple, which was only a day ago. Nothing but arguing and bickering. Instead, it was this half witted, sarcastic charm, showing off his ‘professionalism’ in front of his assistant. If only he knew what happened at the office. You took his hand, giving him an unsure shake before pulling away, following the gesture of his other hand towards the small couch in the corner of his far from humble office. He took the edge on the opposite side of you, adjusting himself before he gazed at you again.
“How was the rest of your day?”
“Fine,” you nodded politely, “how was yours?”
“Uh great.”
There was some awkwardness, yet simultaneously, there was a tension that lingered. The two of you would be stupid to be ignorant of it. Too many things had happened in the past 48 hours to act like everything was fine. Maybe for him it was. Part of the pompous layers job was to act nonchalant, mysterious if you will. He could never show his emotions in court, especially when he was losing. He knew how to keep things cool, calm and collected.
But everything changed when it came to you. Even before yesterday, no matter what you did, it always got a rise out of him, and he could not help but lash out. There was no self control when it came to you. But similar to yourself, he would rather stay in denial than admit that care about what you think of him. Your opinion of him.
Your chest felt like it was going to burst. The guilt traveled over your body. He was trying to be nice, accommodating. He didn’t half come to find you after you begged him to tell you the hurtful stuff you T.O said. An apology was sitting at the tip of your tongue, but you were not sure how to say it.
“Did you want to get start-”
“I’m really sorry.”
“Oh,” he chucked, “what are you sorry for?”
You scooched closer, wanting to be genuine in your sincerity, “For today at the precinct. That was really unprofessional of me and I will make sure that my two fellow officers apologize the next time they see you.”
The pompous lawyer said nothing, instead, throwing his head back, just laughing at your apology. How fucking dare he? Give someone an inch, and they'll take a mile. It already annoyed you in general when someone laughed at your sincerity, but the fact that it was him; the level of anger was a whole new one.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Oh,” you attempted to contain yourself, placing a hand on his chest, “why are you apologizing? I started it.”
“Oh.”
Your body suddenly relaxed, realizing that he was laughing with you, rather than at you. His laugh was somewhat infectious, causing you to follow suit.
“If anything I should be apologizing, I started it.”
“Oh well, are you going to?”
His laughing ceased quickly.
“No, I can't apologize for something I’m not sorry for.”
“Oh my god,” you huffed, immediately fanning your face to disrupt the heat that was coming to it. The smile on your face was impossible to wipe off. He noticed it too, but instead of embarrassing you, he got up, grabbing a folder of what you assumed to be classified documents off his desk and onto the table in front of you.
“Okay so, we need to really get into the nooks and crannies of your daily routines with your T.O.”
The mention of your former supervisor killed the lighthearted mood of the room. Even though you knew that was the purpose of this meeting, it still was a sensitive topic. You nodded, gulping intensely in preparation for what he would ask you.
“Right,” you sighed, gritting your teeth to stay on guard, “that’s what we are here for.”
“Yessss,” he hissed, extending his words, “well since this was an inside police operation, what would you do when he would communicate with witnesses that were part of the syndicate?”
“Uhh,” you puff your cheeks, eyes looking at the ground as you recall your memory, “I usually would wait outside because they would get me to coordinate and communicate with the backup officers.”
Changbin clenched his jaw as he concentrated on his notepad, legs spread wide as he focused the thin paper on one knee, forearm clenching back and forth to write down every intricate detail of what you said.
“Okay, and so then what if it was a minor crime?”
“I’m not sure what you mean?”
“When the crime was not large enough, and there was no backup required. What did he do then?”
“Oh I see,” you gasped, understanding the question, “usually I would just stand behind. If it was a home visit, he usually got me to look around while he asked the questions.”
So you were not present during questioning ever?”
“Not really, unless it was like pulling a car over. I usually did that.”
“Right, okay.”
As he wrote down what you said, your brain, unforgivingly, started to tick. It felt odd that your T.O wanted you as a character witness, yet they kept saying bad things about you to Changbin.
“Changbin, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
The pompous lawyer is unable to look up, still concentrating on finishing what you said on the notepad.
“Why would they want me as a character witness? Why do they keep saying bad things about me to you?”
His pen froze immediately.
“Uh,” he scrunched his nose, scratching his head in a feigning innocence, “I’m not sure. You do bring up a good point. Did you want a coffee? I also have tea.”
That was strange, but you chose to brush it off, blaming it on your nerves about the case being the reason for your perception. Changbin got up immediately, not even waiting for you to answer. You grabbed the bottle out next to your bag, making sure he could see what you were holding. He chuckled, “we actually have to do some work first.”
“Damn,” you sighed, smacking your knee playfully, “if only we didn’t need to do any work.”
“Yeah,” he replied, biting down on his bottom lip, “if only there were other things we could do.”
The tension in the room had come back, the intensity stronger than before. You knew he could be a douchebag, but not in a way that would turn you on a little bit. The pompous lawyer had never been so forward, putting it out on the table. It made you giggle, feeling like an innocent woman who had been corrupted by the devil that was the main in front of you.
Your giggle was cut short, however, hearing your ringtone permeating through the room. Unzipping your bag next to you, you grabbed your phone, confused as to when you saw an unknown number. You still answered, as you normally did.
“Officer y/n, who is calling?”
“Y/n.”
Your heart sank immediately,knowing exactly whose voice was on the other side.
“Why are you calling me?”
“Hey y/n, how are you though?”
“How am I?,” you paused, taking your phone off your ear and putting it on speaker, “what the fuck do you think?”
“Y/n,” they sighed, “I know I fucked up, I’m sorry I-”
“Why did you try to throw me under the bus to Changbin?”
As soon as you answered the call, the pompous lawyer turned his back to you. He did not want any part of this. That was until he heard your last question. His actions were immediate, jumping to your side as he anticipated his client’s response. He was desperate to hear what your T.O was saying, but it was impossible, seeing as your phone was glued to your ear.
“What? I never said anything bad about you to him. You were my most respected rookie.”
“How am I supposed to believe anything you say?”
“Look, y/n, I know I have fucked up bad, but I truly never said that. Changbin told me to call you.”
“What?”
The look on your face was contorted, truly confused about what to believe. The pompous lawyer's eyes widened, hands hovering over yours as he attempted to take your phone, thumb reaching for the red button, attempting to hang up. He should have known better than to try and take something off of a police officer. Your hands were nimble, however, it was your foot that came in clutch, sweeping at his ankle before he fell to the floor, pinning him down, hovering over his body, keeping your phone on the floor above his head.
“He told me to call you, ask you to help me in the case, by my character witness.”
“Oh,” you gritted, practically death glaring at the man underneath you, “did he?”
He tried to become free of your hold, but there was simply no chance. The anger that was beginning to bubble at Changbin’s deception was pooling into your hands, finger pads slowly digging into the bulge that was his forearm muscles.
“Yeah I-”
“Look, I gotta go. If you need something from me, you can contact me through your lawyer. Bye.”
You were quick to hang up the phone, simultaneously deciding to surrender your domineering position on top of him. Your chest was bubbling with vexation, hurt. Why would he do all of this? To embarrass you. To get back at what happened last night? How do you even address that?
The pompous lawyer said nothing, standing up and straightening his shirt before taking a seat in his home office chair. He opened his laptop, completing forgetting that you were there, to see him, for an appointment, to talk about this fucking case that he completely manipulated you into being a part of. You walked over to his desk, standing over him as you stared him down, refusing to give your stance. You waved your hands, knowing damn well that he would be able to see it in his peripheral view. He did nothing, instead, opening his emails and pretending to scan the screen, refreshing multiple times and most likely praying that he could get out of admitting to his fault by replying to a new message.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me right now?”
Nothing.
“Changbin? Are you serious right now?”
Nothing.
“What happened to helping like you said?”
He said nothing for a third time, but in your book, three strikes, you're out. Grabbing the papers that laid on his desk, you picked them up, thawing them on the floor. It took the physical motion of the papers dropping to the inferior surface is how you got something out of him. He turned to face you, still in his chair, jaw dropped to the floor.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Your head falls back in a laugh, amazed at the audacity of his question.
“Did I get your fucking attention? Do these papers being messed up disadvantage you in any way? Will this mess up your pretty little house?”
You pouted, as fake in sincerity as they come.
“Do you think that’s an appropriate way to behave?”
“God,” you sighed, “I knew this was a mistake coming here.”
Rather than arguing, it was easier for you to say nothing, grabbing your bag and heading for the door. Changbin watched you walk, but he didn't want you to leave. Of course he felt bad, but it was Chagbin. The pompous lawyer didn’t have the name for no reason. He scurried to the door, pushing it against your pull to shut it. Changbin stood in front, hands blocking the hinges to prevent your exit in any way.
“Let me explain.”
Your gaze remained anywhere but on him, refusing to give the pompous lawyer that satisfaction.
“Start talking.”
“They were telling the truth.”
Your heart sank, again. You walked back to the couch, taking a seat in order to listen to the bullshit this man in front of you was about to say.
“I did tell them to call you, but that was before I even mentioned the case to you. It wasn’t until yesterday when I spoke to your Sargeant that I should not have mentioned that. Which is why I was going to bring it up organically with you.”
“Right,” you replied in a blunt tone, “Did Sergeant tell you to lie and keep details from me as well?”
The pompous lawyer looked away, not wanting to fess up. The lack of answer made you shake your head, a laugh of frustration leaving your lips. Your hands were in the air.
“You know what? This is my fault,” you yelled, voice growing louder with each word, “I shouldn’t have expected anything more from you.”
“What?”
His eyes were squinted, completely taken aback by your bold statement. His eyes were blazing holes into your face, desperate to hear how on earth you would back up what you just said.
“You heard me. God I feel like a fucking idiot myself. Expecting more from you, to actually treat me with care and respect. But of course you lied, and acted like the pompous lawyer I knew you were to be. You brought me here to show me once again, how rich you are and that you think you’re better than everyone else.”
Changbin laughed, a smirk appearing on his face at your words, his own anger bubbling at the base of his throat. Like you said, his ego, pride was a large construct. The tumultuous amounts of time the two of you had squabble at the precinct, in front of others, being told off by the Sergeant, it was endless. But everytime you insulted him, directly attacked his character, it was like a stab wound right to the middle of the chest.
“I’m a pompous lawyer? You’re the most fucking uptight officer I have ever seen. Do every single thing by the fucking book.”
He took a step closer as he continued his speech.
“Everything. I took the fucking stick out of your ass last night and what? For you to turn around and say I’m not helping you? I’m a pompous lawyer, yet I took the time to bring you to my office. I followed you to the interrogation room today. And you’re angry?”
“Yes,” you bit back, viciously, “I’m fucking angry, you lied!”
The pompous lawyer chuckled, again, taking another stride closer to you. You hated so many things at that moment. The smug expression on his face, the way his chest was puffing heavily when he finished yelling back. But what you really hated the most, truly, was how turned on you were. Impressed that someone in your life actually had the balls to give back the same energy you gave him. His aura was angry, but it was not being translated that way. If anything, maybe because your senses were being blinded by your arousal, but the scent that permeated from the pompous lawyer was one that you could feel yourself getting pulled in, and you hated it. Really, really hated it. Trying to maintain your composure was getting difficult.
“You’re not angry,” he chuckled, again, “look at you.”
“Are you joking,” you laughed nervously, “you have no idea how angry I am right now.”
“Show me,” Changbin huffed, closing the distance between the two of you to, at this night, at all time close proximity. You could feel the perspiration on your skin linger, causing the palm of your hands to clam up. What was his idea? What were you expecting?
“What?”
The pompous lawyer’s tone decreased in sound the closer he got to you. His eyes however, did not move, pupils like superglue stuck to your own, every now and then hovering to your lips.
“I love when you're angry at me.”
“Why the fuck would you like that?”
“Because,” he paused, gently slipping his arms out of his jacket, before he continued, “it makes me want to fuck the anger out of you.”
A gasp escaped from your lips, completely taken aback by the vulgarity of his language, again. Out of all the things he could have possibly said, that was the last thing you expected. But deep down, you knew there was much truth to his words, and therefore, maybe that was the reason why the two of you fought so much. You would be lying if you said that you hadn't thought about it. Maybe it was because of your love life, after being in a relationship for a long time, followed by a long period of being by yourself. You were content, happy with spending time with yourself, family friends. But there were moments where you needed some passion. Sure, police patrol at times was crazy work, but it didn’t feel personal. Sometimes it crept into your mind how nice it would be to have a man rip your clothes off, treat you harshly and not apologize for it.
Your pursed lips turned into a smirk as you took a step closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. You were stubborn, so was he. Making the first move, with your lips, was not a viable option. Changbin still looked mad, his face never changing as his own arms wrapped around your lower back.
“Yeah?” you questioned, biting down your bottom lip, “I’m really fucking angry.”
This was not right. You forgot that the pompous lawyer had just lied to your face. But the feeling of his fingertips digging into your backside, palms crawling underneath the fabric that obstructed him from getting a feel of your skin, the real you, fingernails accidentally dragging across the faceless hairs on your back, the texture changing as a shiver shot down your spine, straight through the center of your back. A large gasp gritted through your teeth, the sound resembling one of giving up and into his touch.
Changbin got closer, lips barely an inch away, his bottom lip accidentally touching your chin as he brought them to yours, dragging it out as long as possible before the gentlest kiss known to man. A small peck was all it took before hebecause after that, things reached a boiling point within a matter of seconds.
Hands were flying around each other's bodies, tongues racing for dominance as the pompous’ lawyers strength walked you backwards, legs giving way as the back of your knees hit the edge of the sofa, falling backwards, lying across said sofa. Changbin chuckled as the two of you got pulled away from gravity, but he was quick to follow. The pompous lawyer’s reached out his hand to life you off of the couch, swapping positions so that he was now sitting on the sofa, spreading his legs wide as he used his left hand to point at you, middle and index finger suggesting you to sit a top of him, right hand undoing the buckle on his belt. Your jaw dropped at how simple he could multitask, and boy was it enough for you to accept the invitation. Each leg sitting on the opposite side of his, core begging to ache as the dense fabric of your bottoms gently brushed against his groin. The feeling that you have been chasing, the one you felt last night was coming back.
“Mmm,” he mumbled, wrapping his digits around the back of your neck as he pulled you in again, hips setting a gentle pace as your lips and hips moved back and forth. It took everything in you to not let out the most gut wrenching moan. The two of you were doing the bare minimum, and admitting to Changbin, the pompous lawyer, that you were getting great satisfaction out of such a simple action was just something you refused to do. Instead he did it for you, the bellow of his groan sending a vibration into your lips, past your throat, and into the pit of your stomach. Your hands began to snake around, left hand snaking up and underneath his t-shirt, the other attempting to wip the belt out of its holding. The man below you pulled away for a brief moment, shadowing the dorsal side of your hands as he whipped his own belt out of each hole, pulling and pushing it away as the two of you reconnected. The pompous lawyer kicked the pool that was his pants off his ankles, your right hand continuing its mission,right to his throbbing length. The pompous lawyer accidentally bit down on your bottom lip, pulling away again to let out a deep moan as he felt the callousness of your feelers wrapping around him. A sigh of relief, followed by a lustful smile played on your lips as you kept your hand in the same spot, watching the pompous lawyer drag his hips in desperation. God, Changbin was already on cloud 9. You having his hand on his cock was all he truly could think about since last night. Even the brief moment, the fact that last night, he spent most of his time trying to pleasure you, the few moments you spent pleasuring him were all he could think about. He knew it was selfish, because watching you contort and give into him, even after all of the meanings she he has said about you in the past should have been good enough to imprint in his brain; and by all means, they were. But as soon as your hands were on him again, quite literally, his memories were only replaying that. Although you sitting on his lap was blocking his full ability for you to feel all of him, he did not care. Any touch that was yours was good enough for him.
You scooted back, allowing Changbin to lift his hips and swipe his pants off in one swift motion, dropping the fabric to his ankles. His expose now gave you free rain, pulling away as you tried to catch your breath as both of your hands wrapped around the base of his pulsating cock, the pompous lawyer's hips bucking involuntarily, lips shaking as his throat let out a deep groan at the contact.
“Jesus,” he hissed.
“What,” you pouted, attempting to mock him in his vulnerable state, “can’t handle it?”
“You’re so annoying when your smug,” he groaned, fingers trickling across the hem of your shirt, arms leaving him for a brief moment as he lifted your obstructing garment over your chest, eyes almost watering as soon as it was off, two fingers hanging around your back and there it was, bra clipped off instantly. Your automatic reaction was to cover up, how ironic. It wasn’t something that he had not seen before, but this felt a little different. The longer he kept his eyes on your chest, the moreheated your cheeks became. His eyes softened, almost like he was watching you in awe. It made you freeze, part of you feeling rude if you moved. His hand came to your wrists, gently pulling on the flesh to prevent you from hiding, and as soon as he did, the man became a fiend.
Chanbgin’s lips attacked the soft flesh immediately, fingertips quick to assist as they gripped the mound, tongue flicking across your left nipple. Your head was throwing back, your own hands running through the pompous lawyer’s usually slicked back hair. His teeth came into the mix, the roughness of his mouth truly felt like heaven. It was in some kind of way a metaphor of your relationship. Rough around the edges. The roughness being the constant bickering, the continuous back and forth, but nonetheless, it still felt good. So good. The pompous lawyer was unforgiving with his mouth, tongue leaving your nippes, still stuck out however, leaving a trail down your stomach. The cool sensation of his saliva felt like ice to your heated skin, back arching the closer he got to where you needed him the most. Your eyes opened as soon as his digits reached the waistband of your pants. Luckily the bottoms you chose to wear did not have any buttons or a zipper, because Changbin was able to swing them off of your hips, desperalty kicking your legs to take them off, along with your panties simultaneously. Desperate time calls for desperate measures. If anything, it added to the fun of it all. Made it feel like it was something you weren’t supposed to be doing. The whole point of this was to come here and work on the case. The testimony was only a week away and to be prepared was the most important thing.
But as soon as you were in close proximity to Changbin, which usually boiled your bones, your brain conspired, a lust filling fluid encompassing the matter. It was going to become a real problem, because your cognitions began to change and associate with the lewd acts you did every time you saw him.
But that seemed like a minute detail in the current moment as the pompous lawyer gripped himself, a few pumps as a small uncontrollable moan left his lips over and over. You lifted your hips off his lap, wanting to help him as he lined his cock up with your pulsating entrance. My god, were you throbbing. This had been the longest time that anyone had not touched you prior to penetration. Usually you needed it, the men you had been with before never did enough to prepare you in that way. But your pussy was quivering with anticipation, dripping with arousal for him. Changbin used his free hand, index finger briefly swiping through your folds, your hips jolting immediately at the unexpected friction. The movement was quick, bringing his digits to his lips and smearing your arousal across the pink flesh, tips entering the hole that was his mouth. Your eyebrows furrowed as your lips fell open, ocre throbbing even harder at how attractive the pompous lawyer looked, underneath you, tasting your slick. Fuck, if you knew this is what would happen everytime the tow of you disagreed, this would have occurred alot sooner. Every second that he wasn't inside of you, it was a second of more torture.
“Hurry up,” you mumbled, giggling as your hips were fatigued, resting and letting your core land across his cock. Your clit barely brushed his tip, another nervous chuckle escaping your lips at the bare second of pleasure that flooded your veins at every little friction, every little touch. His smirk disappeared, tongue hanging outside of his mouth, eyebrows chiseled in a form that helped him to concentrate. But boy were you making it hard for him. You were such a distraction. There was a tumultuous amount of ways he wanted to pleasure you that were ticking on his brain, much more intensely before. Now, his brain was fried, your body combined with your horny daze was enough to drive him crazy.
Changbin’s tip was prodding at your entrance, and enough was enough. You lifted your hips again, this time ready as his cock plunged into your entrance, a universal moan of relief from the two of you as he allowed his length to chrome buried in the depth of your pussy. Changbin brought you close, wrapping his around your back immediately, face hidden in your tits. You thought, once you were well adjusted to his girth, that you should move. And so you did, ankles lying on either side of his thighs as your knees chipped away at the sofa, hips slowly beginning to rise, and fall. Rise and fall. Over and over again.
“Jesus fucking christ,” you spat, hips riding back and forth, the pompous lawyer’s cock hitting all the right spots inside. Changbin’s tongue found its way back to your nipples, the extra sensation leaving you unable to stay quiet. Every thrust was a new level of pleasure. Your digits came to the man below you’s face, leaning down to engulf him in a deep kiss, wanting Changbin to feel the moans in his throat. The pompous lawyer reciprocated, the combinations of noises spilling out of your mouth in unison creating a heavenly vibration across your lips. He chuckled as he broke away, head falling back against the back of the sofa as his hands were simply too desperate to not roam, finger tips gravitating towards the mound that was your ass. He smacked each cheek a few times, following by grabbing in an attempt to smooth over.
“Can’t believe that fat ass is bouncing on my cock again,” he grunted, smiling as he bit down on his bottom lip, “so desperate for me.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you whimpered, increasing the pace of your rhythm, “always cocky you are.”
“Yeah, and you fucking love it,” he chuckled, “this pussy belongs to me you know?”
Changin’s words made you moan, his possessiveness something that you didn’t know why, but really turned you on. His words always had an effect on you, no matter what. Positive or negative, the pompous lawyer’s words always had an impact that would be deemed much more significant than the average person should be by their mortal enemy. Then again, most people wouldn’t have sex with their mortal enemy, more than once. Changbin’s hands, the selfish things, began to roam again, slightly huffed at your lack of acknowledgement to his question. They somehow landed right where you wanted them, where they were earlier in the day, at the precinct.
“Ohhh,” you moaned, wrapping your hands at the bat of his right wrist as they were at your neck, Changbin’s digits fondly wrapping around the fragile skin, the most subtle of pressure being applied. Your face was in a dazed awe, unable to concentrate on your hips moving in a syncopated style. Instead, he removed his hands off of you for a brief moment, standing on his knees on the sofa as he waited for you to do the same in front of him. Bending over, Changbin was quick to make work, using both of his hands to spread your ass, leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to your pussy, followed by a stingy few kitten licks, the friction making your knees buckle. You brought your hand to your throat, trying to recreate the exact feeling that you needed from him. But it wasn’t the same. It was after he pushed his oscillating cock back into your hole, did he notice your hand there. The pompous lawyer chuckled, in awe at how desperate you were for his touch. The two of you stood, bodies pressed against each other so Changbin could reach your throat. He did it with ease, mouth resting against your right shoulder as he bit down gently, the rough friction gratifying by every means.
“So so good,” you mumbled, unable to form a coherent sentence, “don’t stop.”
“Such a fucking dirty girl,” he grunted, pulsating in his pressure against your throat, “imagine if anyone at the precinct saw you like this.”
You could only moan in response. His pace was cold, harsh, unforgiving. It made your whole body jolt in unison. He was right. The side you gave him privy to here in your personal time was something that not one of your work colleagues expected. Yes, you told Hyunjin and Felix information from time to time, but you were known as a stickler for the rules. A good cop that would never dare to do anything against the law. If police officers competed for employee of the month, you would be the employees that would have their face printed consecutively. Sometimes, it was hard for you to even believe that you were capable of showing, no. Letting someone see you in such a vulnerable, lust hazed state of consciousness.
“You belong to me, don't you?”
“Mhm,” was all you could manage to say.
“Say it, say your pussy belongs to me.”
“My pussy,” you paused, feeling yourself coming to an all time high, “b-belongs to you.”
“Fuck,” he grunted, using his free hand to smack your ass once more, “you’re so hot when you’re obedient.”
He continued to fuck you, the pompous lawyer becoming more desperate with each thrust. The noise of Changbin’s skin slapping so loud it was sure to be echoing through the house, something Seungmin would definitely hear. His hips were beginning to lose their synchronicity, thrusts becoming slower yet harder. You weren’t sure how much more you could take. The pit in your lower abdomen was getting together and tighter, the sensation that was Changbin reaching an all time high at any moment.
“Mmmmm Changbin,” you whined, unable to control the pitch of your voice, “Changbin fuck.”
“You ok baby?”
“I’m. I’m so close.”
“It's okay princess,” he cooed, the new nickname taking you by surprise, “me too. You need to cum?”
“Yes please.”
“Yeah you wanna cum for me?”
“Yes Changbin,” you cried, “it’s too much.”
“That okay baby,” Changbin whispered, “cum for me baby.”
His words smacked you into an orgasm, the sensation of the high rolling over every single nerve in your body at an intensity never felt by you before. You could feel the way your walls clenched around him uncontrollably, Changbin chuckling at how it felt around his cock.
“Such a good girl,” he hummed, deeply, decreasing the power of his thrusts, “that pussy feels so good tweaking against me like that.”
The pompous lawyer did not last much longer after, quickly pulling out as he came on your back, hips jerking as he jerked himself to full completion. Your eyelids were dazed over, unable to calculate the time it took for Changbin to leave the room, grab a warm cloth, and clean your backside. He helped you off of your knees, grabbing a blanket that was under his desk before laying underneath you. He thought it would be a decent thing to do, cover you up as if he didn’t just see you completely naked. The two of you sat there for a while, a comfortable silence falling over the room as you stared at the ceiling wall.
“This is crazy, you know?”
You turned to look at the pompous lawyer, met with his perfect side profile. It made you smile for some reason.
“Yeah. I don’t know what happens but-”
“Do you regret it?”
The question made you rise from his side, leaning over to face him.
“No. No part of me regrets it so far, as much as I should?”
“As much as you should?”
“Yeah,” you laughed, “you know, because we ‘hate’ each other?’”
“Oh,” Changbin smirked, “yeah, right. Listen, I don’t want to put a label on this right now. Our first focus should be the case.”
“I agree,” you smiled, pressing a quick peck to his lips.
“Awesome. I’m really sorry about lying to you as well. I felt like if I didn’t say those things, you wouldn’t have jumped on board with the case.”
“Look I get it, but please just don’t lie to me again. I always prefer honesty, and value it, now more than ever”
“Got it. I have one more thing I wanted to bring up.”
“God you talk a lot,” you whined in a joking manner, “what is it now.”
“At the precinct, we should keep things the way you are.”
“What do you mean? Like continue to argue in front of everyone like we normally do?”
“Yeah,” he paused, unsure if you were on the same page, “just so people don’t become suspicious. I personally am a very private person when it comes to my personal life. I’m sorry if that offends-”
“I am on the same page. Felix and Hyunjin already interrogated me about today. I don’t need that from everybody else.”
“Great. Should we work on the case now?”
“Totally.”
You smiled, getting up from the sofa as you found your clothes in a messy pile on the floor, simultaneously watching the pompous lawyer’s muscles bulge and flex as he also put his clothes back on. It shouldn’t have hurt your feelings, but there was a gentle pang at the bottom of your heart that he wanted to keep things casual. It didn’t matter anyway though, because once the case was over, the two of you would go back to normal.
Barely seeing each other and bickering when you did, right?
#ch4nb4ng#changbin#changbin smut#changbin fic#changbin scenario#changbin imagine#seo changbin#seo changbin smut#seo changbin fic#seo changbin scenario#seo changbin imagine#stray kids#stray kids smut#stray kids fic#stray kids scenario#stray kids imagine#reader x changbin
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It’s TIME my babies, i can finally offer the long promised Wegg and mr Neighbor figures from the wonderfuliloveditalotpleasereadit indie comic “Be kind, my neighbor” by @yugsly
Order here
You know the drill, fill out the form and just like with the Habits i’ll put you on a trello waiting list. Then i will make figures in batches. So there WILL be waiting times but you can just chill out because i’ll contact you about it. Also for the first few batches im gonna give a bit of a shipping discount because i’m not 100% there yet with my workflow. Thank you for your support and thank you for not noticing that i forgot to color in the eyes of the Neighbor in the video. WOOPS
#bkmn#be king my neighbor#wegg#mr neighbor#indie comic#finished#cadavercrafts#figure#sculpture#clay#video
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HYPERBOLIC SPOILERS FOR THE PHENOMENAL SECOND EPISODE OF OS2 x BBS x ATOTS
Can I feel so much in just one sitting?! Besides the UTTER giddiness of yesterday’s episode, at least for today, I think I have some actual, sensible, legible analysis to offer. I’m really moved, almost to tears.
I mean, as I blogged just a few minutes ago, part 4/4 of this second episode WILL go down in history in my heart as OBVIOUSLY some of the BEST, most STUNNING content in the HISTORY of anatomical and muscular analysis filmmaking. Yes.
I’m seeing on Twitter some grumpiness for the comedy of this all (the girlies want more woop woop?! I mean?!), but I seriously think this whole crossover set up and the way it’s been written is brilliant. And I don’t think this is just for fun.
But first, regarding the comedy and some other one-off points -- I mean, I knew that all four of these guys would be great, but their comedic TIMING, with the writing, is spectacular. They clearly had a FANTASTIC time filming this, and you can see it -- while they didn’t have much time to actually film it, it’s so well done.
I really want to call it, I really want to see it, I wanna see more subverting of the ships, and I wanna see these guys do more with each other separately -- I’m excited to see the implications of OhmEarth and NanonMix next week, and I think that Aof might be making a huge point by separating these guys, pairing them up together with others, and mixing shit up, because that’s what he does (especially while I have He’s Coming to Me on the mind soon on my OGMMTVC watchlist).
Another one-off point: like I wrote yesterday, we’re getting a double-dose of nostalgia, and I also wrote that I haven’t had to wait NEARLY as long as most of y’all for the return of BBS and ATOTS. But that being said, even though I only watched ATOTS last fall, I actually literally nearly cried when I saw the ATOTS flashbacks and heard the music. Because the way that show was designed in 2021 (I got so much OGMMTVC on my mind) -- those motifs WERE designed to imprint themselves in our memories as remarkable for a kind of cinematic, bildungsroman BL that we weren’t used to seeing back then. That show was nostalgic not JUST for the damn ship, but for Pha Pun Dao, for Chiang Mai, for the Thailand that Aof celebrates vis à vis EarthMix in ATOTS and Moonlight Chicken.
It’s gorgeous, and he knows what he’s doing by putting PatPran in that mix -- another couple at a different stage of their relationship, with a background and shared struggles that are different than TianPhupha’s, but that still offer both freshness AND nostalgia to the backbone story of ATOTS.
What’s moving me about these first two episodes reflects on what I just wrote -- this is no longer a story about Bad Buddy or ATOTS. This is a story about two couples going through their shit. Pat and Pran have ALWAYS been about going through their shit. We went through a A LOT of SHIT with them, including forward flashes after they graduated and seeing how they were faring in their long-distance relationship.
Remember: we haven’t spent ANY time with Tian and Phupha in their relationship yet, ABSOLUTELY NONE. They smooched once on the hill, we saw them cuddle, and Oishii sent us off. So we’re JUST finding out, NOW, how they’re faring, and we get thrown in a fight.
A fight that’s similar to the kinds of struggles that Pat and Pran have already shown us and are showing us now. Tian wants Phupha to see a slice of HIS life in Bangkok. Tian wants Phupha to yield a little, to stop being so stubborn.
Pat wants Pran to open up more. Pat KNOWS why Pran keeps everything so close to the chest. Pat is SO USED to being the balancing effect of their relationship, to push forward, to pull back, but to ALWAYS HOLD PRAN DOWN AND REMAIN AS PRAN’S ROCK, because Pran has not had the same kind of large family structure as Pat could rely on in his childhood and doesn’t know how to take emotional risks. Pat knows this and works hard on balancing it out.
But Pat can go overboard, right, and that’s partly why Pran drove away to Pha Pun Dao -- to prove to himself that he could complete this project on his own, but also, flirtingly, knowing that Pat would ultimately be by his side, and to play the competitive games that these guys always play with each other, because they’re still college dudes with bones to pick.
What we’re seeing is BOTH COUPLES FINDING THEMSELVES IN THEIR MATURING GROWTH STAGES OF THEIR RELATIONSHIPS.
Hello, mic check, there’s something happening here in Our Skyy 2. WHAT HAPPENED IN THE ECLIPSE EPISODES?
Same damn thing, the same damn thing that pissed the girlies off before. WE’RE SEEING AWLLLLLL THESE GUYS IN THE GROWTH STAGES OF THEIR RELATIONSHIPS. Akk was frustrated by all the expressions of care that Ayan is overabundant with. Ayan WANTS Akk to RECEIVE the care, because the RECEPTION OF CARE IS the signal, the trigger, the MEANING of the relationship for Ayan -- it tells Ayan, when I care for you, Akk, I AM SHOWING YOU MY LOVE FOR YOU, and that’s how *I* DEMONSTRATE IT.
Tian: Phupha, come with me to Bangkok.
Pran: Pat, let me do this by myself.
Akk: Ayan, I don’t need as much care as you’re giving me, it’s too much.
Phupha: You’re making only about me being madly in love with you.
Pat: I want to help you, my boyfriend.
Ayan: This is how I show my love for you, Akk.
Y’all. Aof, Golf, these filmmakers. QUEER RELATIONSHIPS ARE RELATIONSHIPS THAT DESERVE THE INVESTMENT AND RESPECT OF EMOTION AND GROWTH IN ART. Not all queer art/BLs need to be about the thrills and frills of the first kiss, of the first sex, of the first whatever. We’re expecting these guys to live together forever in fiction, right? Aof and Golf and the other homies are saying -- kk, girlies, we’ll give you the fan service, alright, but we’re going to show you HOW WE, AS THE QUEER COMMUNITY, DURING PRIDE, GET THERE IN OUR OWN RELATIONSHIPS, TOO, messy details and all. Shit.
Here’s something from reality. I’m the youngest girl of my Indian family -- I was not equal to my older siblings at all, expected to fail, treated as if I didn’t know how to function in society. Y’all can predict what happened. Your gal got a great career, a great family, a husband, the whole thing.
So when I first met my husband, I’m riding my life on my own -- paying my own rent, my own bills, everything. I had already proved I didn’t need my birth family for anything.
But what I didn’t consider during those first years of the relationship was the following: my future husband’s love language was dependence. He was certainly IMPRESSED by dating a woman who had her shit together. BUT. He WANTED me to DEPEND on him, AT LEAST emotionally, if not for other things. I wasn’t going to like, quit my job for a relationship, but -- I was ALSO having REAL trouble DEPENDING on him emotionally.
Like Pran, maybe. I didn’t trust trusting anyone emotionally, because that was a paradigm already created by my family in my upbringing. I had TRAINED myself to NOT need emotional feedback from ANYONE romantically, because I learned to survive in other ways.
Of course, with great communication AND TIME (TIME), I came around and learned to lean on him and trust him.
Aof and Golf are giving their couples the benefits of growth and time to make the relationships better, and stronger, and working, and functioning, and I can’t emphasize enough how REAL THIS IS.
That’s what these episodes are giving me. I WANT TO SEE MORE BLs with established relationships (@bengiyo, @lurkingshan, @wen-kexing-apologist: WHAT DID YOU EAT YESTERDAY FTW). I want to see contextual heartache. I want to see fights. I want to see tears. I want to see snottiness and shittiness and passive aggression, because all of that is worth examining in human emotional art.
That’s real, that’s worth reflecting in art, and I see Aof and Golf doing this on purpose to give RESPECT to the emotional structures that they’ve created in their work.
I’m having so much fucking fun with these episodes, but I should have expected this, I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN, that Aof would already render me an emotional mess as well. It always happens. That it’s happening to our BELOVED COUPLES, AT THE START OF PRIDE, I’m just like. We’re just so blessed to have this art to enjoy.
#bad buddy#bad buddy the series#a tale of thousand stars#our skyy 2 x bad buddy#our skyy 2 x a tale of thousand stars#our skyy 2 x atots#our skyy 2 x bad buddy x a tale of thousand stars#our skyy 2 x bbs x atots#patpran#pranpat#pat x pran#pran x pat#nanon korapat#ohmnanon#tian x phupha#phupha x tian#earthmix#earth pirapat#mix sahaphap#the eclipse#akkayan#ayanakk#akk x ayan#ayan x akk#first kanaphan#khaotung thanawat#firstkhao#unrelated to anything i wrote ohm's hair in the woods is FANTASSSSTIC the locks needed that woody humidity
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Wip Wednesday ☔️
Tagged and tagging @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @diazsdimples @honestlydarkprincess @wikiangela @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @watchyourbuck and my darlings @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @jeeyuns mwuahhh 💛✨
Woop woop, here is another snippet from — you guessed it — the mudslide fic. Because I need to keep my head in the game and focus. We are so close people, so close. 🥹
(edit: my focus has been blown to smithereens thanks to seeing Oliver's pretty tits face again and now I'll be a stuttering mess for the rest of the night cuz hoo boy. 😮💨 Also, getting to see Kenny twice a day?? Two days in a row?? And giving us Peter content too?? Bless his heart, I'm so glad he's back on social media for real. 🫶)
“You know you don’t have to do that, right?” Eddie walked into the kitchen, shaking his head fondly — if it was for Buck’s benefit or because he just checked on Christopher, he couldn’t tell.
“Mmm?” Buck only turned away from the chopping board long enough to take Eddie in, before continuing to dice the spring onions he had lined up on the counter.
“This. The whole,” Eddie waved an arm around vaguely as he made his way over to the fridge, “cleaning, cooking and homework duty. You don’t have to do any of it. You’re always welcome here, you don’t have to… I don’t know, earn your keep or whatever.”
“I know.” Buck shrugged absentmindedly, his brain already stuck on the ‘always welcome’ part. “I want to.”
“Yeah,” Eddie sighed as he opened the fridge and pulled out two beers, lifting them questioningly towards Buck and only closing the fridge door after he got a nod of affirmation.
“Besides, I don’t have to earn my keep, I don’t actually live here.” Buck pointed at Eddie with an onion green cockily, before putting it onto the board beside the rest.
“No? Coulda’ fooled me.” Eddie shook his head, his face slightly angled away from Buck, but he caught the tail end of Eddie’s smile anyway. “By the way, after dinner we’re watching the movie with the dragons. Again.”
Buck snorted at the disdain in Eddie’s voice, as he swept all the chopped up veggies into a mixing bowl, while Eddie opened both beers and sat down at the kitchen table.
“Hey, I don’t think we’ve watched it in like... two weeks. Besides,” Buck shrugged with a smile, “it’s kinda cute.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie sighed with the kind of exasperation that only a dad who’s seen the same cartoon for a gazillion times with the running commentary provided by a pre-teen could feel, but Buck knew better.
Eddie would watch one movie for the rest of his life over and over again if it’d make Christopher happy — he knew, because he felt the exact same way.
#making buck say the word cute is my passion actually#they are also domestic as hell before shit hits the fan#then they become clingy co-dependent losers smh#buddie#911#wip#the mudslide fic
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would love to hear your thoughts on the team bullying/forgiving jamie in s2, in particular what you disliked about it. imo i think sam’s treatment was harsh but not at all undeserved, while others like colin and isaac were a bit twisted considering they fully participated in the prick-ish behaviour in s1. and the whole led tasso bit was entertaining to watch, but it really reveals how problematic ted’s hands-off approach to conflict can be. to the point where ted refuses to refer jamie (and later on isaac) to speak with sharon, and never fully acknowledge’s each player’s feelings.
There was a really good meta I saw on this topic the other day that i cannot for the life of me find in my tags to link here. But yeah, there are definitely things I disliked about it! For me it's less about the players than about the leadership & Ted. I actually think the players reactions/responses mostly make sense. It's a bit weird, like you said, that EVERYONE suddenly hates him when half the team was literally participating in and/or endorsing him in season 1 (remember that episode where the team is split into two factions and one of them is Jamie's? lol. Like it wasn't even just Isaac and Colin participating in the behavior, it was half the team). However I can see that their opinion of Jamie might have changed given distance and their own growth.
Also, we don't really see any instances of Jamie publicly bashing his old team apart from singling out Ted and Roy, but apparently at one point he was off calling Colin a jaundiced warm to his hometown newspaper, so yeah I can see why that might've left a lingering bad taste in his mouth. Also the boys have gotten used to Richmond without him at that point, and it HAS been a much better environment, so I think it'd be easy to overlook that they were actually sort of starting to like him at the bonfire the night before he went back to Manchester (which was ultimately only just one night), in favor of focusing on all the times he was made the locker room worse. Also, there's probably a bit of misplacing their hatred for their past selves onto Jamie because it's easier to shift that blame around a bit than accept their own culpability in the bullying. Just like it's easier to blame relegation on Jamie, because he's there to blame, then on their own shortcomings in the game. Is it a bit unfair to Jamie? Sure. But it's realistic and I don't mind it.
Actually the only one I'm a bit ??? about is Dani, because he was absolutely getting along with Jamie in Two Aces even despite Jamie's prickish exterior. Dani hadn't even been around long enough to be negatively impacted by Jamie's effect on the locker room culture so? what gives? I also don't see him bandwagoning on just because everyone else hates him (which does make sense when jan does it hahah). So it's very weird to me that he holds as much of a grudge as everyone else, lol.
The biggest issue for me is (once again. woop.) Ted. Because he didn't want to get rid of Jamie in the first place. He was in fact IRATE when Jamie was sent away, and got into his first real argument with Rebecca over it, that's how upset he was. So why is he soo hesitant, suddenly, to let Jamie come back? His whole speech to Jamie at the Crown & Anchor makes me uncomfortable, because the whole "You burned a lot of bridges" thing doesn't even add up to the real reason Jamie was sent away and totally dismisses the progress he had already started to make before leaving. It seems to reiterate that Jamie was sent away because he'd been Bad and Done Something Wrong. Sent away after he'd in fact had a significant breakthrough with the team. No wonder Jamie is confused. Ted is crossing all kinds of wires and it's ??? Not to mention that he tells Sam Jamie isn't coming back, then brings Jamie back seemingly without even pulling Sam aside and explaining to him circumstances have changed, Jamie is coming back, and why. It's one thing to have told Sam and then change your mind. It's another thing for Sam to tell you he's upset at you for withholding information, explain that's not the case, then go and do the thing you JUST assured Sam you wouldn't: not consult the team re: Jamie. Idk, the whole thing rubs me the wrong way.
Ted having a conversation with the team beforehand, explaining why Jamie is coming back, would've already gone a long way to help Jamie, instead of just springing him on them and throwing him to the wolves. Led Tasso was typical hands-off Ted problem solving, and it's a funny comedy show bit but not exactly an appropriate workplace solution, is it? I might not mind it so much if it wasn't the start of a pattern of behavior where Jamie needs help, asks for help, and then is like...ignored or gone around or "acknowledged" and not helped. it happens with his return to the team, it happens with Roy refusing to coach him, it happens with fucking Zava. And it's extremely annoying that the team leadership fails him specifically again and again. ugh.
Re: Sharon/therapy and referring the boys, that one is soooo mixed up in ted's own mental health stuff I'm willing to give it a pass. of course Ted's not to going to refer players to see her when he doesn't see what she does as helpful and doesn't respect therapy as a possible tool/solution.
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Honestly it may not be your intention or of other people in the conversation but some comments around the sqq light eyes post have really rubbed me off the wrong way. I'm saying this with all the respect in the world and acknowledging your post about how you don't condemn harassment, but even before with the curly haired binghe and overall in danmei fandom it feels overly judgey towards westerners. Like these physical characteristics being a result of "whitewashing" when there's examples of official art or asian artists (the ZeldaCW art you linked) being some of the earliest examples. Most of us don't know Chinese, many don't even speak english and have to rely on MTL. I really appreciate this work you're doing and going to the original source, but I'm not into the gatekeeping tone some people are taking. Like, AHA! I knew this and actually all the people who don't are stupid for regurgitating fanon like it's canon. I'll be honest, there's plenty of fanon I don't like nor agree with, and I also make dumb mistakes myself (it's me, I'm one of the people who'd forgotten the hand scar came from jin lan woops). Sorry if this is too long or overly rambly, also feel free to ignore it. I mostly wanted to share this as a PSA that tone matters, be kind to others, and that preserving canon is not justification to regard people who go with fanon with a high brow. Regards, a non white non asian ESL 3rd world country svsss fan that's been in the fandom for a couple years (I point that out because I've seen way too many times any criticism be attributed to butt hurt white americans).
Thank you for your message!
When I make my posts here, I try my best for a neutral, informative tone, but between neurodivergence and linguistic issues, I’m not always certain exactly how it comes across. Perhaps a bit too blunt, perhaps the academic or formal tone I often use may seem stuck-up… really, I don’t have the best sense of it, though I do try quite hard.
I want to provide information here. This is to provide information for a few types of people: those who wish to maintain canon accuracy, and those who wish to know where an idea might have originated whether or not they care about canon accuracy in their own works.
Some people will hold canon as the most important. Others don’t particularly care. Some prefer fanon. How one interacts with fandom is entirely their own decision. My blog here isn’t trying to tell people they’re wrong. Or tell people that I’m better than they are, or that those who didn’t know something was fanon, or who enjoy fanon, are stupid or otherwise less than those who follow canon.
Fandom is supposed to be fun. I do this because I like analyzing things. Because it might be nice to have a record of details to see where trends came from. Even some things, I haven’t been sure about myself until doing the research, and some I’ve been mistaken on too!
Things can get muddled up. Especially when the wiki is updated with fanon information. It’s not hard for something to be thought of as canon when it isn’t, especially if trying to quickly reference something without reading the book again. No one is better than anyone else for what they do and don’t know about a fictional book.
And when it comes to design choices, there’s no need to jump right to whitewashing. A knee-jerk reaction is common in fandom spaces to anything that may be “problematic,” but sometimes a design is just a design. I only went into more detail on the post regarding LBH’s hair texture because that’s something i have experience with, and it’s not something widely known about that there are differences.
At any rate, there’s no reason to be unkind to others. People should be having fun in fandom. Those who wish to stick to canon should respect those who don’t care to, even if it’s not for you.
My posts are not meant to create a moral judgement against anyone.
If you’re using it for anything but information, then you’re using it the wrong way.
I don’t have the best eye for tone, but I will continue to do my best to maintain neutrality, and informativeness. Everyone who makes conversation on my posts, just because you knew something and others didn’t doesn’t make you better than them. It just means you knew something. Just because you didn’t know something, that doesn’t make you worse— it just means you didn’t know.
Let’s not moralize this sort of thing.
Enjoy the novel, enjoy the adaptations and interpretations that you like.
#psa#answered#this also got rambling#really I try not to come off as high and mighty#aside from my intro post which was a joke and playing into peerless cucumber persona#but I don’t actually know if I do a good job at it#I also cannot fully tell if anon refers to my own posts or just to comments on the posts themselves#again I will continue to try my best#sometimes I am not the greatest about getting my intention across#be nice to each other#at the end of a day it’s a silly little novel#just have fun and don’t nitpick other people too much since their enjoyment doesn’t really have to do with yours
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